#he only slept in until like 9:30 that’s pretty good for him

[dayntee]

Okay, like, I started the Arlathan University long fic mostly as a joke. 1-2k chapters meant to be dumb vignettes of various Veilguard students tormenting Professor!Solas and also Solavellan desk sex because we deserve nice things.

Now I’m 14 chapters deep, 6k words into my latest draft and nowhere near done, and outlining out at least another 10 similar length chapters because these idiots in love decided they wanted plot and are taking me along for the ride.

Enjoy a snippet, this one’s gonna take a bit of massaging. Yes, that asterisk means what you think it means.

[capricornlevi]

inevitability- nanami x f!reader

tags: friends to lovers, salaryman!nanami, breeding, unprotected sex, fingering, missionary, mating press, creampie, mild cumplay

cw: alcohol (all sex sober & consensual!), pregnancy mentions, rough but v v consensual sex, reader and nanami are both in their late 20s/early 30s

word count: 5.3k

a/n: in which your decide with your good friend of many years that it's time to get you pregnant <3 this has been festering in my brain and i know it's pretty different than what i usually write but ! here it is! ahh! sounds of me screaming!

//

"this is weird, y'know?" you blurt out, watching as nanami hangs up his jacket by your front door before settling down beside you on the couch. he keeps a respectful distance, resting his hands on his broad thighs and smoothing down the fabric of his slacks, clearly nervous. "this is very, very weird. like, weird at levels i don't think people have achieved before."

"i know," nanami replies diplomatically, as if he could be anything but excruciatingly aware of how unconventional this is. "are you having second thoughts? because i completely understand --"

you shake your head abruptly. "no, no, just ... thinking aloud, i guess. just getting used to this, because it's really ... um ..."

"weird?" nanami offers helpfully, and you turn to nod.

"weird."

because what else do you call agreeing to have a baby with your platonic friend of 10 years?

you first met nanami on the second day of college and knew right away he'd be a good dad, even back when having kids wasn't even a consideration for you. it was obvious; he was already a good dad back then, with how he looked out for his underclassmen even as he progressed through his degree. how he stayed sober when he knew people would be going overboard, not sleeping until you texted him to confirm you'd gotten home safe after a party.

he helped you study at the weekends and, in return, you provided him with a discount at the local cafe where you worked. through this time spent knocking back americanos and proofing each other's work, you grew close.

even with all his responsibility and good sense contrasting your exuberance and recklessness, you found yourself enjoying being with him. and he could be funny, too, delivering sharp and witty quips when you least expected it.

you became inseparable. insufferable, some would call it; the matching-halloween-costume type of insufferable, a borderline codependent but obliviously happy friendship that can only be fostered on a college campus.

then right after college, when you had dived straight into your quarter-life crisis and dyed your hair every colour under the sun, got piercings in too many places, slept with questionable people and dated some even worse, nanami had gotten himself a decent, impressive, well-paying job. it was a job that had him wearing tailored suits at 23, paired with fancy glasses that cost more than your rent, and you'd laughed at him, at how serious he looked. but you also worried at how the bags under his eyes grew deeper and darker, how the amused lilt to his voice started to dissipate as time went on.

his 9 to 5 turned to an 8 to 6, and then he was working weekends and skipping movie nights, missing out on meeting new boyfriends of yours, fading into the periphery of your life with you unable to do anything about it.

as with all relationships in your twenties, it was hard to stay in touch. the higher he climbed up the career ladder, the further you grew apart.

soon, it was only on holidays or birthdays when you both would reach out, cordial and civil but achingly unfamiliar.

then, on your twenty-ninth birthday, drunk at a bar and having taken a couple minutes away from your raucous friend group, you had stepped outside to grab some fresh air only to walk head-on into nanami's firm chest.

you had spluttered apologies, lifting your head to see who you had headbutted, only to find your old friend looking down at you with an amused look on his face.

and just like that, things picked up where they left off. you spent the night talking, catching up over drinks and laughter.

with a tone that was only half-teasing, you had asked him what brought him out tonight -- it was hard enough to get him to come out for drinks when you were both in college, much less now with his big fancy job.

but he had laughed in that gentle, airy way you'd heard a thousand times, explaining that he had been out socialising with clients who had just left minutes before. he was just on his way out before running into you.

perfect timing. painfully perfect.

you stayed talking until last call, making exhilarated promises to get in touch the next day.

and to your surprise, you both actually stuck to that.

in the ten months since then, you've met up every sunday for breakfast at your favourite cafe. over lattes and freshly baked croissants, you fill each other in on the details of the half-decade spent apart. he had a serious girlfriend, serious to the point of moving in together, but she'd gotten spooked and left him last summer to go travelling. he was hurt, obviously, but understood her perspective in that annoyingly calm, measured way that is just part of his nature.

and on your end -- despite the drunken circumstances in which you'd been reacquainted, which is all part of moderation, after all -- you've actually calmed down considerably since your early twenties.

you have your own apartment. you have a rescue cat you care for immensely, even when he tries wriggling out of your arms to go stare out the window at passing cyclists. you have a retirement fund, started yoga, learned to bake your own bread.

you're not boring, you still have fun and let off steam whenever you can, but you're having the sort of revelations about life that nanami seems to have had years ago.

fun is good. fun is important. but it can't be everything, because then it starts to come at a cost.

truthfully, the birth of your nephew is what prompted you to make some changes. you didn't want to show up to babysit hungover. you wanted to have funds to hand in order to treat him to little toys and sweets when your sister allowed it, and soon found yourself amazed at how his little face lit up every time he saw you.

it made you grow up, and fast.

in the course of your cafe hangouts, you had mentioned your nephew to nanami. showed pictures of the boy's pudgy little hands reaching for the camera, told stories of how he could tell the difference between new episodes of Bluey versus reruns, and how he's changed your entire life without even realising.

soon, talk about your nephew turned to general musings about your own future.

then one night, when you decided to switch your meetup location from the cafe to a cocktail bar, you shared something that you had barely admitted to yourself.

you wanted to have a kid.

this realisation wasn't borne from some crisis about entering a new decade, it wasn't something forced on you by others or general societal pressure. it was something that grew organically, inspired by the honour of watching your little nephew grow up.

to your surprise, nanami didn't scoff or dismiss you. you figured he'd have rolled his eyes, laughing off your confession since you weren't in a committed relationship.

instead, he expressed similar sentiments, but for slightly different reasons.

"i'm sick of work being my whole life," he had mused quickly, sipping an old fashioned with a funny look in his eye. "it was only when we started hanging out again that i realised how much of my life I've wasted at a place that wouldn't care if i lived or died."

"do i need to be worried about you having the type of rebellious streak the rest of us went through ten years ago?" you asked, smiling and fidgeting with one of your rings without thinking.

he waved off your suggestion with a fond roll of his eyes. "i'm not impulsively quitting or anything, don't worry. just want to take a step back, i suppose, or find something with shorter hours. i just think there's more to life than endless hours slaving behind a desk."

you toasted to that sentiment, knocking back the last of your cosmo.

nanami continued, watching you set your empty glass back down with a soft grin on his lips. "the whole family, kids thing ... i get it, you know? it makes sense."

"yeah?" you pried carefully, interested to see where this is going.

"i'd be lying if i said i didn't think about it, too. i have a nest egg saved up which means i'd be able to take time off to help with a kid, to actually be there to see them grow up. and it's not that i want to have one just because i think i need to -- i think i'd be decent at it, y'know? the whole parenting thing."

you obviously agreed. you'd thought the same for a while now, and getting reacquainted with the man has only spurred on those thoughts.

he really would be perfect.

the issue wasn't discussed further that night, but it was brought up again at coffee the following sunday, then at the bakery the week after that, and before long, it was your birthday again.

after a massive party with all your friends and family -- and a little too much wine -- nanami had stayed behind to help you clean up, because of course he would, and you got to talking again, got to revisiting that topic that had been at the back of both of your minds.

you can't remember the exact wording of the discussion or how many bottles of prosecco fuelled the conversation, but what you do know is that when you sobered up, you didn't regret agreeing to it.

you were gonna have a kid together.

you and nanami.

coparenting.

as outlandish an idea as it might seme on the surface, when looking at it a little deeper, it made sense to you. this wasn't decided on a whim. this was something that had momentum building behind it for months and months, perhaps even years, without you even realising.

when meeting up for coffee the following week, you both gave each other an out. said there'd be no big deal if things were called off. but neither one of you took it, despite laughing for what felt like hours about how bizarre it all felt.

still, no sign of backing out.

which brings you to tonight, the agreed-upon date of when you'd start trying.

nanami had suggested using artificial fertility methods if that made you more comfortable, but you politely turned him down, thinking it unnecessary. he wasn't a stranger -- plus, you'd be lying if you said he wasn't objectively attractive -- so if he had no objections to trying things the old-fashioned way, then you didn't either.

and he obviously didn't mind too much since he's now here on your couch, folding his arms and then unfolding them as he waited for you to make the first move.

he looks good, despite all the nerves. he's filled out over the years, though he was always strong, with every muscle in his body well-defined and perfectly proportional. his hair is still blond but with the faintest specks of grey, his skin brighter and more well-rested than that night you got reacquainted.

his deep brown eyes stay fixed on you and your skin heats as his gaze traces over you.

"do you want me to kiss you?" you break the silence, the words tumble messily from your mouth.

he looks taken aback, as if this was something he'd vaguely considered but never thought would actually happen.

"do ... do you want to?"

his earnestness has you smiling, cutting through the tension, and you meet his eyes properly for the first time since he arrived tonight. he always has this way of making you feel comfortable, his presence alone is like an embrace that calms the racing thoughts that constantly occupy your mind.

it's only now that you're close, so close, you realise that maybe you really do want to --

"i wouldn't suggest it otherwise," you murmur softly as if your heart isn't hammering against your ribcage, shifting nearer to him on the couch but keeping that last bridge of distance for him to close.

his tongue swipes over his lower lip, almost subconsciously demonstrating his wishes as his line of sight drifts down to your mouth. he nods then, dipping his head, only a couple inches of space between you now.

"yeah -- yeah, okay."

you can see how his pupils dilate as you reach out to slip his glasses off, setting them down on the coffee table, cupping his face in your hands.

he returns your smile at that gesture, just the slightest hint of nerves in his eyes that disappear when he finally decides to press your lips to yours.

his lips are softer than you imagined ... though until this very moment, you hadn't even realised that this was something you had imagined.

he lets you set the rhythm but doesn't shy away; he meets your movements, your energy at every kiss, letting you stop for a moment to adjust yourself as things progress.

this should feel weird, right? you should have some lingering feeling of awkwardness at making out with your best friend, at taking his hand in yours and setting it down on your thigh to show you want him to touch you?

this was supposed to be a relatively unromantic event, after all. it wasn't meant to be the start of anything. though it was never clinical or unemotional -- you're technically starting a family together, after all, if an entirely unconventional one -- you never foresaw it going down like this.

this feels like something that was meant to happen.

he pulls back ever-so-slightly, lips still grazing against yours as he asks softly, "this okay?"

you nod by way of answer, not wanting to waste another second not kissing him. nanami captures your lips with his again, and with renewed enthusiasm, slips his tongue into your mouth, probing gently and barely hiding the low rumble of a groan deep in his throat.

all thoughts of propriety start to fade into the ether. his hand on your thigh burns hot, shifting up and down the exposed skin. you'd worn a nice dress for the evening, unsure of the dress code for an event as strange as this, but you find yourself grateful for choosing something that fell so far above the knee.

his hands are rougher than his lips but not in an unpleasant way. you figure it's from his only out-of-work hobby that doesn't consist of hanging out with you; his renovation group. nanami is part of a volunteer organisation that helps build and renovate houses for those in need -- as if he couldn't get any more painfully perfect, obviously.

you stay like that for a few more minutes, exploring these new sensations and becoming increasingly more aware of the ball of anticipation burning in your lower stomach. everywhere he touches you feels warm, every soft nip against your lips feels electric.

then, against every instinct in your body, you force yourself to pause to take a few steadying breaths. nanami responds in the same way, pulling his hands back to his own thighs, adjusting his stance on the couch.

he's hard, you can see as much from the awkward way he shuffles in his seat. not to mention the bulge very obviously visible in the front of his slacks -- just seeing it fills you with want, with the need to touch and be touched.

this is moving more fluidly than you had expected, arriving at each decision without a second thought. in that vein, you decide to ask:

"want to head to the bedroom?", hoping you don't sound as desperate as you're feeling. "if you're ready -"

"yes," he responds before you've even finished your sentence. you feel grateful that the eagerness is not one-sided as you get to your feet, taking nanami by the hand to pull him up with you.

when you've reached your room and the door is shut behind you, revealing the modest set up of your freshly-made bed and a single scented candle -- any more than that felt a little too forced, too awkward -- you marvel at the feeling of nanami's hands on your hips, somehow gentle and firm at the same time, manoeuvring you onto the bed with a pre-rehearsed confidence that never verges on forceful.

your head hasn't even hit the pillow before he's kissing you again like he's starving for it. it's messy this time, the gentle exploration from before giving way to something more primal and urgent.

you have to remind yourself that this is your nanami you're kissing. the nanami who was there for you through the most painful college breakups. the nanami who knows your coffee order, who helped zip up the back of your graduation dress.

but now, with his tongue against yours and the stiffness pressing against your stomach, all you can think is why you didn't do this sooner?

just as you're about to combust underneath him, he pulls back, balancing himself on an elbow as his eyes flick down to see how your dress is bunched at the top of your thighs. he closes his eyes, his breaths ragged and unsteady.

"i don't know how--" he whispers, tongue gliding over his kiss-slick lips, "how ... technical you might want to go about this."

you let out a little laugh, craning your neck to kiss his jawline so he knows it's not at his expense.

"i never really thought about the technicalities, but it doesn't have to be too clinical, or anything. i know you, you know me. we can just ... have sex."

"have sex," he repeats slowly, eyes open again, the hint of a grin on his face.

"yeah, have sex!" you answer with a chuckle. "or is there another way you'd like me to phrase it?"

he laughs then too, looking at you again as he shakes his head softly.

"what?" you press him with a mock indignance. "it's rude to laugh at my suggestion, actually. i felt it was pretty accurate."

"i'm not laughing at you," he says gently, lips still curved upwards. "just ... i must have pictured you saying those words a thousand times, and i never thought it -- it's just funny to hear out loud, is all."

it takes you a second to fully comprehend the words as they wash over you.

you'd be ignorant to say that the realisation never dawned on you, but it was something you thought was a relic of your college years. he had blushed a few times too many whenever the topic of sex came up at parties, had a hint of jealousy in his voice when giving advice about one particular ex-boyfriend. at your apartment complex's winter party in senior year, you can tell he was thinking about kissing you.

but that was when you were young and naive, inexperienced with life, and the thought of this nanami desiring you, of picturing you in his life, of imagining what you'd look like spread out underneath him like this --

you lift your head and grab his shirt collar, yanking him in for another kiss. when he's settled back against you, your hands weave down to unbutton his shirt. you feel him smile against your lips as he starts to unzip your dress in return.

you're a mess of limbs as items of clothing get strewn across your bedroom carpet. before long, it's all skin-on-skin, the heat of his body pressed against yours before he grabs your waist and flips you over until you're straddling him.

you feel the length of him pressed against your stomach, hot and painfully hard, but from the way he cups his hand against your neck and starts to kiss your throat, you know he's not going to rush this.

just as you gasp out his name as his teeth nip against your pulse point, he brings his other hand to the apex of your thighs, fingertips resting just over your pubic bone, barely brushing against the sensitive skin.

"want me to touch you?" he mumbles quietly against your throat, the way his breath fans over you making you shiver.

you nod pitifully, hips canting towards him, but he doesn't budge.

"need you to say it," he says low, quiet, thumb shifting down by the millimetre, "need to know how much you want it."

"i want it," you gasp, the arch of your back deepening the closer he gets to your aching core, all concerns about appearing desperate evaporating with every press of his lips to your skin. "i want it, kento, p- please touch me."

nanami obliges, fingertips trailing down until his thumb is brushing over your clit. he slides his hand lower, fingers slipping through your damp lips, and then uses your own wetness to start rubbing you in earnest.

any form of articulate thought slips from your mind, replaced with only those that can get you more of this -- nanami's fingers playing with your clit, the other hand possessively resting at your nape, his cock pressed between you with precum beading at the tip.

you want it in your mouth. you want it inside you, and as you go to shift your hips, nanami shifts his back.

"want to see what you look like when you come first," he says, slipping his middle and ring finger inside you as if to prove he's going about it the right way.

and he really is, because after only a few strokes of his fingers, your vision is getting hazy. you've never been this turned on so quickly before, never felt this desperate, all-consuming urge -- but then again, you've never had a man look at you like this before now either.

you try to focus on the sensation of his fingers stretching you open, his thumb still stroking your clit in the perfect rhythm, but your mind wanders to the thick cock pressed up against you. you want to rub against him, let him fill you up, make him feel good too --

but looking at his face now, pupils blown and lower lip raw from biting down on it, you can tell this is as much for him as it is for you.

less than a minute later it hits you, the explosion of warmth radiates out to every cell in your body, rendering you a boneless mess in nanami's arms.

he holds you as the aftershock subsides, strong arms keeping you steady even when your legs feel as though they've turned to jelly. when you feel capable of supporting yourself, you slide ungracefully from where you were perched on his thighs and fall back against your pillows, head spinning blissfully.

nanami leans down next to you and kisses your forehead, whispering words of praise that fill you with a strange sensation you can't quite place.

"want to take a break?" he ask after a few moments have passed, "or if you're tired, we can try again later --"

"no," you cut him off, turning your head to look at him directly, face splitting into a smile through the post-orgasm haze. "i just need a second is all, i still -- if you want to --"

"i do."

and so to ease yourself back into it, you kiss him slowly, intimately, bodies gently intertwining as he shifts closer to you on the bed. you guide his hands to your chest, gasping as his thumb circles a nipple.

"you're just ... beautiful in a way i don't really have words for," he mumbles, watching you squirm pleasurably under him.

"nanami kento lost for words? a first time for everything," you manage to quip through it all, earning a pinch of the other nipple that turns your laugh into a moan.

"we've plenty more firsts to get through tonight."

at that, nanami shifts halfway down the mattress and gets to his knees, hands gripping your thighs as he spreads them open. he takes his cock in his hand and slowly drags the head through your folds, up and down but not yet penetrating you, appreciating how you're almost sucking him in, the eager way you pull back your legs to accommodate him.

he stays like that for a minute. every time you think he's about to sink in, he holds himself back as if transfixed by the obscene sounds that come from playing with your pussy, of using you to stroke himself off.

he looks to be on the verge of a choice, like his brain is fighting between two options: taking you slow and gentle like you deserve, or sinking in and fucked into you desperately, filling you up until he knows he's bred you, that you're his and only his.

you soon glean that he wants you to actually say it out loud, wants to hear those words he's fantasised about for so long.

"fuck me, kento."

now utterly unable to hold off any longer, he heeds your request, lining up and thrusting inside you in one fluid motion.

it's a pleasant stretch; he's still careful to let you adjust to his size but you're soon relishing the feeling of being so full, and the fucked-out grin on your face spurs him on.

his hips shift back inch by inch until he's almost fully pulled out, letting out a low groan as he sinks back in again, and at that, he knows he's a goner, completely lost to the feeling of his entire length buried inside you.

this is nanami at his most possessive, fucking into you as you're caged in by his strong arms, your knees now pulled back as far as they'll go. the skin on the back of your thighs is raw from your nails digging into them but you don't care, single-minded in your aim to keep the head of his cock brushing against that perfect spot inside you.

your shoulder blades press into your soft pillows as you try to keep from writhing too much, wanting with all of your might to avoid upsetting this perfect rhythm.

above you, nanami's perfect cheekbones are flushed, his brows knit tightly together, your silky walls wrapping tight around his cock in a way that's driving him to the brink sooner than he'd like. against all better judgment, he slows down just slightly, allowing himself to indulge in the sensation.

"you take my cock so well, y'know that?" he mumbles in between quiet grunts, "with that pretty look on your face when i fill you up... you're trying to kill me, i swear to god."

you both laugh breathlessly before yours breaks off in a moan, slurring his name as he speeds up subconsciously. he presses his lips to every inch of your neck, jaw, collarbone, thrusts unrelenting but never too much.

if you weren't already aware of how soaked you are, the slick sounds of his cock sliding in and out of you provide more than enough proof, melding with the soft squeak of your bedsprings to just about cut through the muffled sound of your moans.

your body now guided more by instinct than intention, you slip your hand down to where your hips are pressed together, two fingers circling the swollen bud of your clit. the angle of his ruts means his cock grazes your fingertips as he pulls out, the desperate rubbing of your hand between your legs spurring him on.

"still want me to come inside you?" he says then, strands of hair coming loose, sticking to his forehead, "want me to fill you up?"

you nod feebly -- the answer clearly not sufficient in itself, since he leans in, pressing his forehead to yours as he meets you for a wet, messy kiss. continuing his question with his lips still touching yours, he asks;

"want me to take care of you? want to be my pretty wife, hm, wanna -- fuck -- wanna be mine, yeah?"

you slur something unintelligible, focusing on the second orgasm gathering quick and hot in your core. you lose your grip on your thighs and fumble to pull your legs back up.

nanami helps to hike your legs back up -- but not in their original position. instead, he guides them until your ankles rest on his shoulders, and after taking just a second to press a kiss to your calf, he sinks back to the hilt. feeling him bottom out, your vision nearly goes white; this new angle allows him to slide in so deep it's practically splitting you open, so deep you can tell he's serious about breeding you.

somehow, the sensation remains just shy of too much -- it's not too much of a stretch or causing too much sensitivity -- it's more than you've ever taken but you honestly feel you could stay like this forever, taking nanami's cock like you were made for it, with him looking down at you with a mixture of reverence and pure lust.

you want him like this for the rest of your life.

"i'm gonna need you to answer, cos I'm pretty close," he half-pleads as if reading your mind, his voice deep and strained, firm chest heaving as the thrusts get messier and less coordinated.

though your mind is near-blank and your lungs feel they can't get enough air, you manage to mumble a "fuck, yes. want -- want you to come inside, kento ... please."

that last word tips him over with you following almost immediately after, clenching around his cock as you feel him pulsing inside you, feeling more full than you've ever felt in your life. his head tips back as he cums, moaning beautiful praise you can just about make out, strands of sentences about you being the only one he wants taking his come, about how he's going to keep fucking you full for as long as it takes.

sparks of electricity reverberate through your body, hips pushing against his as you ride out your orgasm, pretty little whimpers harmonising with nanami's continued praise.

you stay like that for what seems like forever, basking in the wave of pleasure that's just swept you away effortlessly.

everything is just ... warm. purely and blissfully warm. the warmth of his hands still gripping your legs, the warmth of your own breath fanning over your sweaty chest, the warmth between your legs that starts to dribble down the backs of your thighs when nanami pulls out.

for good measure, nanami uses two fingers to push some of his come back inside, grinning as aftershocks pulse around the digits.

you lower your tired legs to rest on the mattress, thighs aching from being bent practically in half, but it's easy to disregard any physical exhaustion when you feel this level of contentment.

nanami's arms are soon wrapped around you, pulling you to rest on top of his chest where you spend some moments of perfect silence.

you can hear his heart beating in his chest, skipping a beat when you angle your head up to meet his gaze again.

"well?" you ask, a smile imbued in your words. "still lost for words?"

"just thinking about how every second of this was worth waiting for," he replies without missing a beat, eyes crinkling at the corners as he watches how his answer flusters you.

with one hand behind his head as he rests of the pillow and the other wrapped around your shoulders, nanami looks more relaxed than you've maybe ever seen him.

this is a man who looked on the verge of a nervous breakdown when you reconnected less than a year ago; he's almost unrecognisable now, the dark circles under his eyes have faded, his face filling out a bit more, the smile on his face entirely genuine.

and in this moment you feel a burst of clarity, a sudden realisation that's eluded you since that first night you met in college.

maybe -- just maybe -- you're as good an influence on him as he is on you.

[homestylehughes]

i wanna taste

pairings: jack hughes x fem!reader

summary: after one sight of y/n, jack has to get a taste.

warnings: smut 18+. oral- fem receiving, dirty talk, cussing, use of pet names. fluff, soft jack.

wc: 1.8k

au: hi loves! im on a writing streak (thank you spring break). im back with some jack smut woooohooooo, i realllllyyyy enjoyed writing this, i hope you guys enjoy. like and reblog if you enjoy<3.

happy reading <3

Rain softly hits the window, the soft light from the lamp in the corner of the living room illuminates the room with a soft glow. 

I've been awake for a few hours, my body waking me up at 5 am, turning over to see that Jack was sound asleep beside me, I decided to get out of bed and start my day.

Settling on the couch with a cup of coffee in my hands along with my book, this is where I've been for the last 3 hours. The book captivated me so much I didn't even check the time until I had finished it. 

The clock read 8:15, I was genuinely surprised Jack wasn't awake yet. His crazy hockey schedule kept him awake and up at odd hours, his body probably needed all of the sleep it could get. 

Getting up to get another cup of coffee, and the second book of the series I’m reading, I settle back into the couch and enter an alternate universe. 

I'm so into my book, that I don't even realize Jack creeping up behind me, wrapping his arms around my neck, nessling his face in my neck, feeling  his warm breath fan my neck. 

“Good morning pretty girl” I hear him say, as his face is still muffled in my neck. 

“Good morning” I say back as I crane my neck up to meet his face, getting a good look at his face for the first time today. 

Taking in his sleepy doe like state, hair a mess, eyes full of sleep, leaving evidence that he just woke up. Sweatpants riding scarily low on his hips, his chest bare, allowing me to rake my eyes over it. 

“Done checking me out pretty girl” he smiles down on me, catching me in the act. “Maybe, i'm not sure yet” i muttered back, my face heating with a slight embarrassment. “How'd you sleep?” I ask him, still looking up at him. “Good, really good. Would have been better if I woke up with you beside me” he says, looking down at me. 

“Sorry baby, I randomly woke up at like 5am. I didn't want to wake you up "I say feeling bad, for leaving him in the bed alone. 

“It's okay, you can make up for it now” he says as he begins to lean down, his lips meeting mine in a soft kiss. The angle makes it a little hard for me to fully kiss him, but I deal with it and push my body up further to meet his kiss. 

Our lips moved in sync for a few more seconds before Jack pulls away, resting his arms on the arm rest behind me, giving me a few seconds to catch my breath. 

“That's a better good morning greeting” Jack says as he's smiling, making his way to the other end of the couch, picking up the blanket that covers my feet and slides under it as he sits down. 

The simple movement probably means nothing to him, but it does to me, seeing him so at peace, and calm makes my heart warm. I'm quickly pulled out of my daydream when I hear Jack's voice.

“Has it been raining all morning?” he asks as he's looking out the window, the rain still hitting the window. 

“Yeah it's been raining since i've been out here” i say “it's very peaceful” he replies back softly. Turning his body back to face mine, “what time is it?” he asks, snuggling himself deeper into the blanket like a child, “9:30” i reply back. 

“Dang i slept in” Jack says with an airy laugh. I laugh softly in response, as I go to pick up my coffee mug to take a drink, to only find that its empty. 

“I'm going to go get more coffee, do you want a cup?” I asked him, raising my back from the couch to get up. 

“Yes please that sounds amazing, thank you pretty girl” he says, moving himself back to a sitting position on the couch. 

“Okay baby, I'll be back” I say as I fling the blanket off my body, not seeing Jack's widened eyes as I turn my back to him as I make my way to the kitchen. 

Making both of our cups of coffee I make my way back to the living room, I feel Jack's eyes on me instantly. 

“Here you go baby” I say, holding the hot cup out to him, “can you place it on the table for me?” he rasps out, as I go to place the mug on the table in front of us, I hear Jack speak again “set yours down too”. I look up at him confusingly as I set both cups down on the table. 

“Are you okay Jack?” I ask him, my eyes locked on his face. “Yeah i'm fine, can you come here please” 

I make my way closer to him, standing in front of the couch where he lays, Jack deciding that isn't close enough for him. He puts his hands on my hips pulling me into his lap. His hands moving to rest on my bare thigh. 

“What are you wearing?” he asks me, looking down at my body, i see nothing wrong with what i'm wearing. “Clothes?” i reply back timidly, still confused on why he's acting like this.

“Your not wearing pants” he says, tracing his hands under my shirt, circling his hands on my practically bare hips, causing my breath to hitch slightly. 

“You're walking around the house in a tiny thong, and a shirt that doesn't even cover your ass completely, and you expect me not to do anything” bringing his face to mine, close enough that I can feel his breath fanning on my face. I swallow before saying “what are you going to do about it?”

Before I know it, Jack smashes his lips to mine. The kiss is hot and wet, his tongue quickly entering my mouth fighting and winning for dominance. My hands in his hair pulling him closer to me, wishing that there wasn’t a blanket separating us. 

I began to rock my hips into his to gain some type of friction, I can feel the dampness between my thighs beginning to grow. 

I pull my lips from his and begin to trail them down his neck, kissing and sucking little love bites in my wake, softly biting his ear as I make my way down. I hear Jack's breathing beginning to pick up, moaning lowly in my ear. 

Just as I'm about to trail my way back to his lips, he pushes me off of him. My back is now hitting the couch. I look up at him breathless, waiting for his next move. 

“I have to taste you pretty girl, I've been dying to do it all morning” Jack says, eyes locked with mine as he pushes the blanket of his body. Making his way between my legs spreading them apart as he rests in between them now. 

Tracing his hands up my bare thighs, his hands sliding under the waistband of my underwear, pulling them down slowly, while keeping his eye contact with me. Once my underwear are completely off me, he throws them somewhere behind him.

Jack begins to kiss up my thighs, alternating between each of my legs. My chest is rising quickly now, I need him to do something soon, the tension is starting to kill me. 

“Pretty pussy is so wet for me” he sighs as he slides his middle finger between my folds before pulling it back out, his finger glistening in front of him before sliding it into his mouth. 

Moaning at the taste, his eyes are on mine. This action alone causes me to moan down at him, shifting my hips closer to his face. 

“Tastes so sweet, pretty girl” he says as he guides his face back down to my pussy. “ I think I wanna have a taste now, is that alright with you, pretty girl?” his eyes searching mine for an answer. “Yes jack, please” I breathlessly say to him. 

Not even a second later, jack is diving into my pussy, his tongue finding my clit instantly. My hands fly into his hair grabbing something to hold on to while jack fucks me with his tongue. 

My moans are beginning to fill up the room, along with the sounds of jack slurping up my pussy, like a man who hasn't had a drink of water in days. 

Taking me by surprise Jack pushes 2 fingers into me, continuing to lap up my clit with his tongue. “Jack fuck” I moan out, pulling his hair even tighter between my fingers, the action causing jack to groan into me, sending chills up my body.

I began to push my hips to meet his tongue and fingers, beginning to feel the coil in my stomach heating up. 

Jack senses that i'm almost there, he thrusts his fingers into me, but curves them just enough so that he hits my g-spot. 

Causing my eyes to roll in the back of my head my body arching off the couch, my hips pushing themselves further into his grasp. 

“Right there fuck jack, please dont stop” I groan out. I reach under my shirt grabbing my right nipple between my hands squeezing it in between my fingers, as my other hand starts needing my left boob. 

“Fuck pretty girl, you look so hot from up there” my breath labors at the sound of jacks rough voice “does it feel good pretty girl?” “fuck, you feel so tight against my fingers, taking me so fucking good like a good girl” he says as he brings his thumb to my clit, rubbing and pinching it hard and fast. 

Incoherent things are falling from my lips at this point, the only thing I'm focused on is jack and the dam in my body that's about to break. 

Before I know it I'm cumming, hard and fast. My orgasm gives me no warning as it begins to wash over my body, hitting me like a tidal wave. 

My moans and “don’t stops” fill the living room, my grip on Jack's hair never loosening. Finally coming down from my high, I try to catch my breath, I open my eyes that make their way down to Jack who's looking at me with wide eyes, and a parted swollen mouth catching his breath. 

Making his way up to me, so that he's now directly on top of me, pushing himself up by his arms. “That was the hottest thing ive ever fucking seen.'' Jack says before capturing his lips with mine. 

Pulling back to look into his eyes, before something catches my attention. The cups of coffee on the table. “I think our coffee is cold,” I say, trying to hold back my laugh.

“I dont give a fuck about that coffee anymore” jack says as he laughs back at me, bringing his lips back to mine mumbling “how about we finish this in the bedroom?” before picking me up and dragging me to our bedroom. The coffee being long forgotten about. 

[yandere-paramour]

Vivien's Morning Routine

If he has to be at work at 9, Vivien's first alarm goes off at 6:30, and it is promptly turned off and ignored.

The next alarm goes off at 6:40, then 6:50, 7:00, 7:15, 7:30, and 7:45. Each successive alarm wakes him up a little more, so by 7:45 he is now 80% awake, enough to get out of bed, even if he does lay around and scroll on his phone for a while.

Each of the alarms is a different bopping song. He specifically only picks songs that are loud and catchy, as quiet, soulful, deep songs will just blend into his dreams instead of waking him up.

Usually he loves listening to these songs, but hearing them waking him out of the gentle caress of sleep is not fun. He changes them every few months to prevent him from permanently hating the song.

Before even getting out of bed, Vivien will send Darling a good morning text and ask how they slept. He eagerly awaits their reply and keeps his phone nearby the entire day, his face lighting up at every phone chime.

He usually sleeps naked or in just his underwear, and the first thing he does after rolling out of bed is head to the bathroom to splash some cool water on his face. Obviously, he doesn't make his bed; he hasn't done that since he was a kid in the foster home.

If it's been a good, productive week, he has meal-prepped his breakfast like cutting up peppers and spices to put in his eggs or baking a batch of muffins to eat during the week.

Unfortunately, it usually isn't a productive week. He'll either buy some baked goods readymade from the store or just make something quick like toast, instant oatmeal, or frozen waffles. They're quick and easy and don't require too much thought so early in the morning from a sleepy guy.

After eating, it is usually 8:30 or so, and he needs to hurry and get ready. He gets a pair of jeans and a work shirt from Laundry Chair and throws them on. He does not care that they are wrinkly; he only cares that they're clean.

He brushes his teeth and runs a brush through his hair. After throwing his shoes and jacket on, he's pretty much ready to go.

He will never admit to this, but he finger-guns himself in the mirror to hype himself up before work. It's kind of cute.

One thing Vivien does not ever forget the night before is to pack his lunch. He loves his sleep, and he knows himself well enough to know that he won't put in the work in the morning. Lunch is usually leftovers from dinner the night before, some fresh fruit, raw vegetables, granola bars, yogurt and honey, and some sort of cracker like goldfish or Cheez-Its. If he's baked recently, he'll throw in something like a cookie or a brownie. He tries to bring a lot of snacks as he has to sustain himself until around 5:00pm.

This isn't obvious, and he's not telling anyone, but there is a secret pocket underneath the main compartment of his lunchbox. That's where he keeps some of his supplies. A bottle or two of pepper spray, an automatic knife, a pocket taser, even some of his sedative herb syrup. The bigger, more obvious stuff is left neatly hidden in his car; this stuff is only if he must protect himself in the immediate. Just in case he needs them.

After filling up his 64oz (half a gallon) water bottle, he grabs his keys off the hook, heads down the stairs, and gets in his car. The garden store is only 8 minutes away, and if he is on time, he will arrive at work at exactly 8:52. He unlocks the shop, flips the sign, and performs a cursory examination of the shop (even though he was there like 16 hours ago and nothing has changed). He puts his lunch in the fridge, and work begins.

He's ready for another day of hanging with the plants!

[pbandjesse]

I am having a pretty good day. I'm at an event right now and it's wrapping up. But overall today has been good. Even if I slept terribly.

I woke up at 130 last night and couldn't fall back asleep until after 430. And then I was up again at 630 to say goodbye to James. And then I woke up at 9 thinking I was smelling burning toast??? It was not restful.

So I stayed in bed until 10. And when I got up I was actually feeling pretty fine. I took a shower. And made the bed. And got dressed. It was cold today so I wore my fleece while I was home.

I had pizza bagels for brunch. And while those cooked I tidied up. Fed Crabcake. Hung out with sweetp. It was a nice morning.

I wasn't in a rush to do much. I put together a few outfits. I just hung out and enjoyed not having to rush.

I would leave the house around 1230. I decided to go to the diner for lunch. It was surprisingly busy there though.

I sat at the counter. And had a new waitress who was learning. I listened to a podcast. But my stomach started hurting really bad on the bottom again. So I got most of my food to go.

I still had lots of time though so I dropped off my leftovers in the car and went to walk around five below. My stomach still really hurts though so I would give up and go to the museum to sit with James.

When I got there they let me sit at their desk while they took a bunch of gifts and things to the car. Which was so sweet.

It's been a really nice night though. I just finished up and I'm heading home now but reflecting on my last evening event until May was really good.

Decatur Earth came around 1:30 which is very early but not a huge deal. And I went to check in with them and chatted with Jessica for a bit because she's finally back. There was a science event thing today with the engineering challenge so there was a lot of things happening. But I chatted with her and it was nice and I still really hurting but I was trying to work through it by walking around the museum. While I wanted to sit down I felt better when I was walking.

And I would have some nice conversations with Jesse and Merrill and it was just a good way to spend the afternoon even if there wasn't a ton for me to do.

I did bring my embroidery project and I got another two letters done. I finished the Z and the w. I wanted to do more but just didn't happen. Because I ended up chatting with Travis all night which is what happens every time me and Travis work together.

And it was a really fun event. I was a little nervous when the organizers for the event were still not there at 4:30. I went and made a chase just in case but I didn't tape it because I was worried that they would want to change everything and I didn't want to have to take the whole thing apart. But they ended up loving it and thinking it was so cool that we could do that and I made three options for them and they thought they were hilarious. This company is an HVAC place so I tried to find ones that kind of matched that theme but obviously it was going to be a little bit hard with my vintage mid-century type. I still think I killed it.

I have three educators this evening which I don't know the last time that I had that. But it was like the dream team of Jan, Kate, and Deborah. They're all wonderful and great at their jobs so it was totally fine and I was extra glad to have them because there was some confusion about when the galleries would be open from the organizers and they had put their scavenger hunt stuff like at 8:30 but my educators were only scheduled until 8:00 so it was a little confusing. So I checked him with them if they would be cool with staying and then I got approval from Jesse about making sure that they're going to get paid for an extra hour. And he said that was fine to just keep a note of it.

The food tonight was fine. I like the desserts more than the actual dinner. I did enjoy my potatoes and the caprese skewers that they had during the cocktail hour. But dinner wasn't super exciting for me. Because it was just a whole bunch of different meats but Travis and Kate said that it was good.

It's always hard to get the flow of when I should send the educators to get dinner when it's kind of weird like this but they all ate something even if I don't know if everyone got full dinner and I feel bad about that but I tried.

It was a really nice event though. 180 people and they had so much swag. They had umbrellas, full size standard umbrellas made with their company branding to give to every guest and there were so many leftover at the end of the night that I was able to take 13 of them. And there was still more to be taken. Travis got three. So I labeled a few for the educators that had already left for the evening and put the rest of the box behind the desk for other staff members if they would like them.

I had a good time just chatting with Travis about his baby mama and things that are going on with her and I met another pregnant lady tonight who is due on March 13th. And I was just having fun walking around chatting with people. It was a good evening and the vibes were very positive.

I would get some sewing done like I said but mainly I was just chatting and doing my job and making rounds and trying to be the very best event coordinator I can be. And I'm sad that it's my last event until May. I love this job. And I really hope that when I come back I can really jump in to doing more events if they're available. Because I just really enjoy the work. I want people to have really fun events and I want to do lots of special things for them. And make them feel like I'm going above and beyond. That's always my favorite feedback.

The event started wrapping up but they had raffle tickets and their company CEO or whoever he was, maybe the vice president, was a very slow talker and he kept making each district's full department come stand at the front because not enough people were winning prizes from the street teams, only office worker for winning and I think he thought that that looked bad and it was just kind of a dragging last hour because of that. But people want iPads and Kindles and TVs. And they had some pretty excellent gifts. And everybody was having a great time and right before 10:00 when the party was ending people were told to take as many swag bags as they wanted and start taking the flower centerpieces.

I got two of them because I thought it would be nice to give one to Travis to get to his baby mama. I thought she deserved that and so I brought them to the front and I was like we're going to switch these up so that we can get the nicest bouquets possible but then a guest came over and tried to take them from us and I was like you can have some of them you do not need both of these.

So I made two small bouquets for me and Travis and I put them in nice paper so that they would look cute and I let the guest keep the vase and the flowers I didn't want. Like the lilies because I can't have lilies in the house.

Travis said that I made them look very nice and I really hope that she liked them.

I started turning off lights and making my rounds and making sure that everything was getting cleaned up. I'm not super good about making sure that the caters do a walkthrough with me so I just do the walk through myself and then if I find anything egregious I will just tell them. But everything looks good and I was able to get some hugs at the end where everybody wished we luck and told me they would miss me. And then they were gone.

Me and Travis had a hell of a time trying to lock the front door. It just wouldn't lock. I had to call James. But it turned out that even though we always do the left hand side, the right hand side was the one that was locked this time. Just confusing me for no reason. But we were still able to get out of there by 10:30 with all the lights off.

I told Travis I would see him in May and then I wished him luck with his baby as well. And now I'm on my way home.

I have a very long day tomorrow so I'm really hoping that when I get home I can just wash my face and clean up and go to bed. And I hope that I can sleep easy tonight. I have two classes tomorrow so I will be at art with a heart from 9:30 until 3:00. Which is not that long of a day but like I'm also not used to it and I am only slightly stressed out about it. Like it will be fine but I am still a little nervous.

So wish me luck. I hope you all have a lovely evening. I hope that if it got rainy and cold near you that you are safe at home. I love you all very much. Until tomorrow. Cuz we're

[purplesurveys]

1850

1 - When was the last time it snowed where you live? Do you like snowy weather or is it just a pain? Uh... Anyway, cold weather is definitely preferred. We're reaching high 40s now and will still go up to the 50s in May, and it is not only uncomfortable but also starting to get very inconvenient.

2 - Are you expecting any parcels in the mail right now? Not for a while. I ordered J-Hope's album but was already informed in advance that I probably won't get it until June since my shop ships stuff from Korea in bulk. Which is fine. With BTS on hiatus I've considerably calmed down when it comes to merch lol.

3 - How long is it until your birthday? Do you have any plans for the day? Like, 363 days haha. I just celebrated my 26th last Sunday, and all I did was watch a Spongebob movie with my sister in the morning, slept all afternoon, then went to my favorite hotel buffet for dinner with my family.

4 - What was the last thing you had to drink? Coffee. The Spanish latte I got tonight had a cracked lid so my jeans are now all soaked.

5 - Do you need to do any laundry right now? Yup.

6 - Who was the last person you got a notification from on social media? Is this person a close friend of yours? That would Alex, just a dude related to work. No, I wouldn't call him a friend but he is genuinely one of the nicest people I know.

7 - Do you regularly buy things on credit? If so, how much do you owe on credit cards right now? No. I got a surprise credit card in the mail a few weeks ago (I say 'surprise' because apparently I said yes when I got surveyed years ago...? then I just forgot about it I guess LOL), but I absolutely refuse to use it. It's not even activated yet. I don't want to form a habit around paying things on credit.

8 - When was the last time you got a call from an unknown number? Did you answer or call them back? Can't be bothered to check when exactly, but I know it was a few weeks ago. I probably answered it because at the time I knew it would be someone work-related calling.

9 - When was the last time you got off work early? What was the reason and did you do anything fun with your extra free time? I don't do that, I always do the full 8 hours. Earlier this month though I did file a morning leave to attend a watch party for Wrestlemania.

10 -  What do you typically eat for Christmas Dinner? Are you the one who cooks or does a family member do the cooking? My family is never consistent when it comes to Christmas spreads lmao, it's always different meals every year! For the longest time it was my mom and grandma who did the cooking; but now that I could afford to treat my family (and can't cook hah) I buy platters and trays of all kinds of stuff so that everyone can get what they want.

11 - What time did you wake up this morning? Did you get out of bed right away? I needed to wake up earlier since I already had a meeting scheduled for 9 AM. I think I started to wake up around 7:30.

12 - Do you have any plans for the weekend? Are these plans typical for a weekend or are you doing something different? Saturday will be for rest as I have back to back events on Sunday. I'd say at this point it is pretty typical for work to eat up what little free time I have - it also comes with the higher role - but I'm hopeful this phase would stop soon. I have no weekend events booked yet for May onwards so that's looking like a good sign.

13 - Would you like to work a job that involves going in and out of other people’s homes all day? (Like care work, painter, decorated etc.) That'd be cool, but I wouldn't know what kind of related job would fit me best. I did always have an interest in interior design – I like trying to look into people's living rooms when we drive by them in the village (but tbh this is also because I live around rich people and they all have super big minimalist mansions lol), and when I was younger all I wanted to do in GTA was to have a cheat code that would let me in people's homes lmao.

14 - When was the last time you had an injury? Was it a minor cut/scrape or something more serious? What happened? Sprained my ankle two years ago. I had one drink too many and ended up tripping in a bad way over some steps on my birthday, hehe... 15 - Do you ever watch movies or TV shows that require you to read subtitles? I mean I like having subtitles around in general. It's obviously helpful when watching foreign-language shows/movies, but even for English I prefer having them turned on because I hate it when actors mumble or have too-thick accents.

16 - What accents are your favourite? Don't have any.

17 - How many people have you texted today? Are these people friends, family members or something else? People I've messaged today, outside of work, would be Angela, Lei, my mom, and sister. 3 out of 4 of these people are family.

18 - Are you any good at DIY? What was the last DIY project you finished? I'm not good at any DIY or arts or crafts, period.

19 - When was the last time you had a haircut? When was the last time you dyed your hair (if you ever have)? Hair cut: Year and a half ago. Dye: Around six months ago.

20 - Do you prefer wearing tight-fitting or loose-fitting clothes? I prefer the baggy/oversized fit now.

21 - Are you currently warm, cold or just right? Is the heating or air conditioning on to contribute to that feeling? I'm quite warm, but it's not as bad as the TERRIBLE weather earlier today. It's evening so it's a lot more manageable, but that's not to say I've stopped sweating because I still fucking am.

22 - What was the last piece of good news you received? Was it expected? Pharmacist licensure exam results came out today and I saw that my cousin passed. Yes, I always knew she was going to kill it.

23 - What colour socks are you wearing right now? Maroon.

24 - Do you prefer hot coffee or iced coffee? What about hot tea or iced tea? Iced coffee, iced tea.

25 - What are some of your favourite Christmas songs? What time of year do you start listening to Christmas music? Christmas Love by Jimin :) Kelly Clarkson also has that bubbly song but I'm blanking out on the title. I usually start to listen around the 2nd week of December, then go into overdrive between the 24th and 25th haha.

26 - If you see cats wandering about in the street, do you stop and fuss them? No.

27 - Speaking of cats, do you own a cat? Are they a particular breed or just a moggie? Would you ever want a specific breed of cat at all? No.

28 - When was the last time you moved furniture around to clean behind or underneath it? Do you need someone’s help in order to do that? Just a few weeks ago. No, it's just a decorative chair in the living room so it's easy to move around.

29 - Do you have any medications that you need to take daily? Is this something you’re going to have to do for the rest of your life? I don't.

30 - Do you know how to start an open fire and keep it burning without using loads of wood? Is this a skill you use on a regular basis at all? I don't know how to start fire.

[vel-hell-ael31]

────❝𝐒𝐤𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫❞───

First chapter. My native language is not English. I am translating it with Google Translate, I am very sorry if something is misspelled.

────❝𝐒𝐤𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫❞───

I wake up in my comfortable and warm bed tired. I hadn't been able to rest much, since I went to bed late because I didn't realize what time it was and I ended up drawing at my desk until 2 in the morning, and that thing about having to wake up at six in the morning to Getting to the Institute at a good time... It didn't help, I only slept 4 hours... As always.

I get up, to immediately feel three more pesos in my bed. They were my cat Freya, my ferret Tlaloc and my dog ​​Calupoh Anubis. They were demanding their breakfast from me, so with great regret I got out of bed to go downstairs and go to the kitchen. I tossed all three of them some food into their respective bowls. Seeing that they were already satisfied, I turn on the coffee maker and put two pieces of toast to heat up.

Meanwhile, I went back up to my room to get dressed, I put on something comfortable, like every day. Several people call me "Perfect Bum" or "Perfect Style". Anyway. Many people, many opinions which are worth embarrassing me

*CHING*

The mini oven rang indicating that the toasts were ready, the coffee for sure too. I quickly finished dressing and put on my necklaces, earrings and rings, I also checked that my piercings were well placed. I put on my old vans with some paint on them and almost fell down the stairs with my pets behind me.

Breakfast calmly, it was still very early, he started classes at 7:45. It was barely 6:10.

Once I finished my toast and the empty coffee cup, I left everything in the sink, I'll clean it up when I get back from school. I went to the bathroom to brush my teeth and went to the exit where I grabbed the straps and my jacket, it was early November, which means cold and rain (and maybe snow), to get closer to the door.

-Guys! Come on. Walk time -I yelled not too loud to hear the herd of pets.

I put my little Tlaloc in a special bag that I had woven for him, my girl Freya, who was always tucked into the hat of my sweatshirt, I put a kind of jacket that I had also made for her, and I put Anubis on my big one. kind of a dog scarf, glad i went to those crochet classes with my old neighbor.

Once everyone is ready, with their straps on and in their positions, we go out into the cold outside for a walk around the area.

Anubis relieved himself, the other two did not want to go down, it was too cold. So once the great cannon's needs were relieved, we made a beeline for home.

I put enough food for them so they won't go hungry until 4. I get back from school, open the backyard door for Anubis and say goodbye to them. It was already 7:00.

-Hey guys. See you in 9 hours -I yelled slightly into the air, I grabbed my skateboard that was next to the entrance and locked the door, before joining the road, I put my headphones on with the random playlist.

A few strides were enough for me to have a great momentum, from a jump I mounted to the skate, I pushed myself a few more times, and rolling I went to the Institute.

Good news. I arrived at the perfect time, it was barely 7:30 when I stepped onto the sidewalk in front of the institute.

There are several groups there, there are the typical athletes, then the pretty girls who are quite posh, further on in a cloud of smoke are burned lungs. But among all that crowd I find my two friends, Arthur D'Oyly and Isabella Ruíz.

The two best people you can find in this Institute. Isabella is my friend since we met in kindergarten. Later, in 2nd grade, we were joined by Arthur, who fit in very well with us. Since then we have never been apart.

—Heeey. What's up, greñas? -Isa greeted me jokingly while she looked at my hair. Shit, that's what I forgot...

—Don't you have a comb at home? I know that with the curls it is not necessary. But man, looks like you've got a family of birds up there. Don't you have Tlaloc in there? -The funny Arthur finished off, who high-fived Isabella.

—Oh yeah, leave me, okay? She had to get the gang out before she came. I didn't remember or give me time, besides... How many times do you remind me of a decent hairstyle? -I complained as I rested my arm on Arthur's shoulder, who was slightly shorter than me, enough to be comfortable in that position.

—Since elementary school graduation? - Isa doubted

—Correct, 5 points for Hufflepuff. -I replied.

—Hey guys, here it comes - Arth warned as he looked back, pointing with his gaze at a white van that was coming excessively fast with the music at full volume.

—Let's see what garbage cans he throws away today -Arthur and I said at the same time, to later look at each other and let the three of us laugh lightly.

Indeed, that van, as always, arrived quickly and then the crazy driver did not stop in time, thus running over the garbage cans.

It got closer and closer, and the speed was practically the same, this time I shot four dribbles out of six, almost a full.

—Okay... I think it's time to go in if we want to make it to the box office alive. -I expressed without seeing the boy who almost fell out of the vehicle, I didn't care either.

—Ok, go on. Let's go -Isa said, placing herself between Arthur and me, grabbing an arm of each one. We looked like three old ladies with linked arms.

Our lockers, thanks to whoever, were pretty close to our starting class. Mine and Arthur's were next to each other, but Isabella's was two beyond mine.

I opened the locker, put my skateboard in and took out the books I need for first and second class.

—Hey. What class do we have now? -Isa asked me while she looked in the mirror and fixed her hair, once ready, she pulled my arm and began to try to fix my bird's nest a bit.

—Well... -I thought while looking for the schedule on my mobile -We have Language and Literature, then your favorite, Technology and before the break we have History.

—Chachi. Done, look how handsome you look -She said cheerfully as she turned me towards the mirror that was inside her locker. And she was right. You can't even tell that I don't comb my hair.

—Thank you- i said as i gave him a light hug.

—Do not eat in front of the poor. Come on, you know how Mrs. Brittany gets if we're late. -Said Arthur with crossed arms looking at his watch.

—Owww the little one got jealous, come into my armsss -I said extending my arms and opening and closing my hands. After thinking about it for a few seconds he hugged me. -Go ahead, now to class. -I said cutting the red

The language and literature class passed us by as slowly as ever, plus the monotonous voice of the teacher and the subject she is explaining doesn't help at all.

Once the language class finished, we had to go down to the "basement" of the Institute. Where was the Technology Room. It was a large classroom with many computers and tablets. Then, in a somewhat secluded area, there were work tables and next to them, materials and tools for treating wood and metal.

Honestly, it was one of our favorite classes. I loved when the teacher let us invent what we wanted with wood. Last time, I made a ring box for Arthur, and an earring holder for Isabella.

Today's class wasn't as entertaining as it usually is. We only gave the binary numbers, the teacher said that from time to time she should teach us theory. I found it quite easy to understand the binary code.

Finally, 3rd hour, after this we could go to the cafeteria for a skewer. Being in the 4th grade of secondary school was quite exhausting, I don't even want to imagine when we get to high school.

History class was always one of my favorites, after Art, Technology and cooking of course.

Today we did not give anything relevant, the teacher ordered us to place ourselves in groups to do the typical work on a relevant character in the story, we three place ourselves, as always. After having the groups, we went up to the laptop classroom, to be able to start the work.

Although we really have a great time, we always choose the most hidden and secluded laptop to be able to play all the time. We do the work in my house with background music and more tranquility.

Finally, the recess had arrived. The troops were already roaring violently at Arthur, I thought he would agree to cannibalism and eat us in the middle of the class. But he controlled himself.

Today for those who did not bring their food from home (Like me and Arthur), the menu was some vegetables with chicken, an apple and a small carton of pineapple juice. It wasn't my favorite dish but after all, food is food

We went down the stairs, since we had gone up to the third floor and the cafeteria was on the first floor near the exit.

But before we could even get to the door of said place, the loudspeakers heard:

—Mr. Anthonyson, go to the director's office. Aex- Axel Anthonyson, to the principal's office. -Sounded on the speakers Instantly several people in the hall who knew me began to look at me, which made me quite uncomfortable, but I ignored them as usual.

—Let us join you -Isa told me giving me a pat on the back

—Nono, stop, go to the cafeteria and get a good table. And please, feed Arthur now or he's going to hunt a freshman for a roast. I'll catch up with you later. - I told them both. Arthur did not hesitate to take the path towards the cafeteria again, but not before saying a light "See you later"

—Okay, bye, see you there. -She said goodbye to the female, to catch up running slightly to the contrary.

I'm hungry but... they need me somewhere else.

Lazily but somewhat quickly I began to walk to the area of ​​the first year of secondary school and in other stairs I went up to the 2nd floor. I have always said, the Institute is badly done, why so many turns to get to the Director? Not that he was the president, although sometimes it seems so...

I arrived and everything was already hurting, I got my breath back and calmed my breathing before knocking on the door.

—Go ahead- I heard inside the office. So I slowly opened the door and went inside.

There was the Director sitting behind the desk, to the right of him was my Art teacher and also our tutor this year, Mr. Franklin. In front of them, there was a brown-haired boy sitting on one of the chairs, he looked like a dog with his tail between his legs, surely he's scared shitless.

—Take a seat Ax- Franklin told me kindly. I've been his favorite student since I stepped foot in this institute, that's why he always treats me well.

I listened to what he told me and sat next to the boy, I didn't see his face, but I could feel his gaze on me.

—What do you need Director, Mr. Franklin? -I asked kindly with curiosity, although I think he gave me an idea of ​​what they wanted from me.

—You see... Axel. This guy to your left is Greg Heffley. He goes to first grade. But his grades have started to drop slightly compared to the first term, as well as getting into big trouble with a boy from his class... We need you to tutor him. -Said the Director bluntly

-What I that to whom of what?

Here the first chapter. Hope you like.

Created: 10/12/22 00:52

Posted: 12/23/22 12:23 PM

Edited:

Words: 2032

[olderjodijournals]

TUESDAY, JUNE 1, 1999

The next next-door problem has arrived. So far, there’s been no problems, but I said, “so far.” Just give it time and there will be. I’ll write about it more later. Right now, I want to go work out.

WEDNESDAY, JUNE 2, 1999 I’m going to cover the basics as best and as fast as I can. I’m not really in the mood to do much writing now. I want to work out some more and go online to see if I can find more goodies. Been getting some really nice wallpaper pictures of landscapes, animals, etc.

Anyway, the city came to mow at 9:30, but I still didn’t have a bad vibe or any vibes about being woken up, so I went to bed relaxed enough and slept fine. Tom fell asleep around the same time I did, but when he got up in the late afternoon, a few hours before I did, he saw the new scum moving in (I can’t believe they moved in while I slept just fine just three feet away! He said it was a pretty quiet ordeal, though, with just a few car doors). I had thought the people I saw Monday looked white, but he said he thought what he saw looked Mexican. Well, it’d make more sense. How many subsidized people are white compared to black and Hispanic? I can tell you firsthand, from experience that most subs aren’t white.

He said he saw three different vehicles. The gold car we already saw, a blazer, and an old junkie Ranchero. The gold car and the blazer look like something the bitch’s associates would drive, but the beat-up Ranchero is a different story. He said he saw some rented furniture being delivered. How can they afford to rent furniture? Renting furniture can be more expensive than buying it. He said he didn’t get a good look at people, but he did see a big fat woman and two toddlers. So far, no dog and the only music he said he heard was played softly and without bass by the Ranchero as it was pulling out. He said it was so soft that he couldn’t tell what kind of music it was and that it wasn’t one of those really bassy stereos. He says he believes they work cuz how else would they pay their rent? With their SSI, SS, or welfare checks, I told him. We’ll see, though. It’s too soon for me to know if anyone there works, how many people are living there (among the ones that aren’t supposed to be living there), and if someone living there has a car, or what. They’re not here tonight. They were gone when I got up at around 7 PM, then they pulled in an hour later. I heard some voices calling out to each other and saw a mattress and a box spring being pulled from the Ranchero. They left at 9:30 and haven’t been back since.

They did what I figured would be done the very first day someone moved in there - changed the security light bulb. This one may not be too obnoxious, though. It seems to be a lower wattage than what was there before.

It’s just a matter of time. I may not have a bad vibe. I mean, this is a totally different feeling than what I had right before the other freeloaders arrived. Before the other freeloaders, there was a very ominous feeling in the air. I was all stressed out, knowing my peace was about to be stolen. Well, I may not feel this way what with knowing we’re moving soon enough, but I’m no idiot, either. I know the parties, the mass of vehicles, the music, the kids, and maybe even a dog, will be a problem. Like I said, it’s just a matter of time. Come the weekend, the whole street will be hearing them.

THURSDAY, JUNE 3, 1999 Boy, are we taking a familiar trip down Memory Lane here! It’s the same pattern. The same exact pattern. The Mexicans moved in little by little without making much noise. Meanwhile, I’d see several different vehicles. Like 3-4 of them. It wasn’t until they got fully moved in and were sleeping here that they began to make noise. As soon as they were settled in, though, it was time to get the neighborhood’s attention. Well, I see the same thing going on all over again. Again, no one stayed there last night. All Tom said he saw was a brown van in the carport at 2 PM yesterday. That’s 4 vehicles. They’ve been moving in little by little, not making much noise. Yet. Just as soon as they get fully moved in and are living there day and night, we’ll be hearing from them. That’s when they’ll let the whole street know they exist. What? Do these subsidized assholes have a system out here? Do they all move into houses slowly and quietly, then raise hell once they’re settled in? Are they all so rude and selfish, desperate for their neighbors to hear and notice what sick fucks they are?

I might’ve been wrong about assuming they don’t work cuz they’re moving in little by little says they do, just like with the bitch and cock.

Well, I may be seeing familiar patterns all over again, but guess what? This time I’ve got something I didn’t have the first time around - the city’s address. As soon as the parties, the music, the company, and the dogs get out of hand, I’ll be perfectly happy to put them in their place like I should’ve done with the bitch and cock from the get-go. I should never have let it get to the point where that bitch came running to take her shit fit on my doorstep and make me wonder for the rest of my life if I should’ve decked her. I should’ve dealt with every single fucking freeloader over there by contacting the city from the start of their shit. But I didn’t know these things like Tom did, and I wish to hell he’d brought up the idea sooner. He said he did, but I said it wouldn’t work. I remember saying that I had my doubts about it working, but that doesn’t mean he brought it up from the get-go. Those blacks moved in March of 96 and he never went to the library for the city’s address till late November of 97. Once again, I’m thrilled to know we’ll be out of here soon enough, cuz what once worked in the past, may not work in the future. The city may decide this time around to ignore my complaint and just let this batch of scum do whatever it wants.

What’s not thrilling to know is that the pest will be returning home today. I can imagine all the calls I’ll be getting about it, too. I’ll try to put off the 2-hour conversation all about God and food for as long as possible. I was going to be just as available to talk as always till we moved. Meaning, that I was still going to leave messages 1-3 times a week and chat about once a week, but I’m gonna be harder and harder for Andy to get a hold of as we get closer to moving. I’m not obligated, after all, to cater to this guy’s phone needs. Also, I’m sorry, I know it sounds selfish, but I’m just not thrilled to chat with him these days. I’m tired of it.

FRIDAY, JUNE 4, 1999 I called Andy to get the discussion about food and God over with, but he said it wasn’t a good time to talk cuz he wanted to just relax. Then why’d he answer his phone? Anyway, I told him to leave all the messages he wants this weekend, that I was glad he was back safe and sound, and that I’ll call him next week.

I had been wondering why Paula wasn’t pestering me so much lately till I tried calling her. I got a recording saying her phone’s been temporarily disconnected. I hope it’s a little more than temporary! But anyway, that’s more like the Paula I always knew. I mean, she’d move and lose phones as often as Fran did. Well, she always moved as much as he did, but for a while there, I thought she’d keep this last phone for life. That must’ve been the longest stretch she’s gone with a phone. I’m sure the main reason she lost that phone was cuz of all the calls she made to me. I tried to warn her about that, but it’s her life. Meanwhile, I’ll keep the letters going to her. She damn well better keep that PO Box she just got, cuz I made up about 30 envelopes with all kinds of pictures on the back of animals and scenery. Yeah, I sure got myself a lot of pictures. Got palm trees, cactuses, dogs, cats, and other scenic and animal pictures. I’ve got about 25 different screensavers made up now.

Tom told me what the neighborhood people helped themselves to this time around (the stuff we put in the alley). They not only took stuff we figured they’d take, but they surprised us by taking the faucets off the old sink but leaving the sink there. Now that’s desperate! Who’d want such old, ugly faucets when you can buy nicer ones at a reasonable enough price? I hated those faucets just like I hate the kitchen ones. I’d always hurt my fingers on them. They also took the beanbag and the last two old, beat-up kitchen chairs.

As for next door - Tom says that when he got home at 12:30, that van was there for about an hour and so was the gas company. He said he thinks the reason they haven’t been there is cuz they’ve had no hot water. However, it doesn’t appear that anyone’s there tonight, either.

He said he didn’t see any people, and that he’s not sure of the van’s color. He said it’s some dark, obscure color. Also, he’s not sure what blue/gray is (the color of the van driven by that pregnant child). Oh really? Why is that? Is he trying to stall me from finding out it’s that van after hoping differently after seeing what I thought was different, white people last Sunday? He tried that with the cock. When he changed cars, he tried to convince me that it wasn’t him.

But then he started describing other things that say this isn’t the same van, after all. When I asked if this woman was pregnant, he said that she was so fat that he wouldn’t even be able to tell if she was or not. Well, the woman I saw, the child, I mean, was definitely pregnant. Also, he said he’s seen two toddlers. That Mexican kid, though, had one toddler and one infant, but that’s just what I saw. Mexicans have kids like rabbits, so there’s no saying how many she had for sure. She could’ve left ten kids at home. I’m so sick of Mormons, blacks and Mexicans! If it weren’t for Gloria Estefan, I’d hate all Mexicans, though she’s Cuban.

I asked him if he thought that van belonged to whoever lived there, and he said no, he doubts a vehicle of any kind will be there at night, and he thinks the van belonged to someone related to them. Well, we’ll see. I mean, there’s always a chance someone is there now, and that they walk to the bus stop on weekday mornings to go to work, and return the same way, but somehow I doubt that very much. I think a car of some kind will be living there, but if that’s not the case, I think someone will pick them up and drop them off. What about the kids, though, if they do work? Who takes care of them during the day? Does someone come here like Bill did with the bitch’s kid? Or do they go somewhere during the day? Even if it’s peaceful there during the workdays, that doesn’t mean it’ll be that way after work and on weekends. I still don’t have a bad vibe, but my logic says that as soon as they get settled, they’ll be noisy. I don’t know if it’ll be from voices, dogs, or music, but there’ll be some source of noise and it’ll be more noise than normal. Of course, there’s still always the off chance that they end up being no problem since God knows we’re not going to have to be neighbors for 2-3 years. We had two years with the Mormons and 3 years with the blacks. If this was so, though, that’d be wonderful, but I’d still be like - thanks, God. Now you send me the ideal neighbors? Now?! When we’ve got just a few months left here? Well, if this is the case, better late than never. If I can get a few extra months of peace and take the last 6 or so months off from neighbor’s shit before moving - why not? Still, I highly doubt this will be the case. I’m sure they’ll be anything but ideal to have just a few feet away. Just wait till they get settled in, and of course, I wish I could say they won’t want to be outdoors much when it gets really hot like most people, but I’m sure that won’t stop them. Didn’t stop the blacks. He said he doubts the woman he saw will take to the heat very well cuz of how fat she is and that fat people usually have fat friends so they won’t either. Yeah? Well with my luck she and her cronies will be able to take it just fine. I’m sure they won’t mind at all.

He also said that if she’s as hard to get along with as I felt she is, she won’t have too many friends.

Wrong. Just the opposite. Assholes always have a lot of friends. That’s because most people are assholes, and since most people want people they have things in common with for friends, there are plenty of assholes out there for other assholes to be buddies with. It seems that the nicer you are, the fewer people you know.

Anyway, now that I’m rolling onto days, I should be able to get a look at this mystery van if it comes today, too.

Later…

At 7:50 the van pulled in. At first I thought it was that blue/gray van driven by the pregnant kid, but now I don’t know. I saw not only a boy of about 5 but a girl of about 9, too. Mexicans have kids like rabbits, and if these people are as Mexican as they look to be, there’ll be half a dozen kids living over there. The van pulled out 15 minutes later and once it got out into the sunlight, I could see that the color didn’t quite look blue/gray and I can see how Tom may’ve thought it was brown. This van seemed to be more like a brown/gray. Also, I saw two big fat women in the front, but couldn’t see into the van to see how many kids were in it. After seeing these women, I can’t say for sure that either of them is that pregnant kid I saw. So were there people in the house last night after all? Was this van picking up someone in the house to bring them to work? If so, why bring the kids, too? They can’t go to work with them, can they? Maybe they’re going to get dropped off first at daycare or something. Before they left, I saw them shutting the back of the van which suggests they may’ve unloaded or loaded something into it, but is this van going to live there full-time at some point? This weekend ought to tell me a lot, but I’d say that if weekends aren’t wild over there, I’d be one surprised girl! Maybe there won’t be a music problem, but I’d think that all these kids these Mexicans love to have, would be outside running wild for hours. Not just kids who live there, but other people’s kids, too.

I’ll be finding out their name in no time at all. It’s only a matter of time before the mailman gives me a piece of their mail.

I’m glad my letters to the girls didn’t spawn off calls from Tammy. That just goes to show how selfish she really is. She’s just like Dureen in so many ways. I never pressured or dumped her when she wasn’t having any contact with Doe and Art. But now that I’m not and she is, she had to pressure me into contacting them and then dump me when she couldn’t get her way. Well, she better enjoy life without a sister, cuz she certainly lost me for good, along with the others.

Again, just like I questioned being friends with someone who beats her kids (Paula), I’ve got to wonder if I really want to associate with someone who abuses her kids mentally and physically, uses one of them as a built-in babysitter and housekeeper, and who can’t accept me as I am, even when I’m not just like them, and I don’t think so! I think I deserve better than that. All I need is Tom. Just having one person who fully accepts me is enough.

SATURDAY, JUNE 5, 1999 So far I’ve been right about next door. They’re officially moved in and here to stay now, and the van does live there. I knew it would. I just don’t understand it, though. How is it they can be so poor and in need of our tax dollars, yet own a van like this? Maybe the city doesn’t know about the van. There’s a damn good chance that the woman that’s supposed to live there is carless like she’s supposed to be, but let her friend with the van (and the friend with the van’s kids) move in with her and her kids in secret so they could help each other out. Just like how the bitch had the convenience of her cock’s car, and the cock had the convenience of a pussy in his bed. So that makes two adults and God only knows how many kids. The friend probably needed a place too, or at least wanted to be in a house rather than an apartment, and the woman that’s supposed to be there probably appreciates the transportation. Guess they have a deal - you drive me where I need to go, and I’ll let you stay here and I’ll watch your kids along with mine and do most of the household chores.

Come next week, I’ll be able to prove/disprove my belief that says they don’t work. Already, though, we’re up to 6 different vehicles that we know of, about 10 different adults, and God only knows how many kids. Sound familiar? Tom disagrees, but I say they’re gonna be in and out several times a day, every day of the week. I think that just like with the freeloaders and the renters, there’ll be several different cars and people coming and going from there regularly. I just can’t believe I haven’t heard any music yet. Those stereos with major bass are more of a black thing, but still, I can’t believe it. Well, they’ve only been here a week, so we’ll see. They’re bound to have a theme of some kind. Just like it was the kids with the Mormons and the bass with the blacks, there’ll be something with these people. If we get through the weekend without and music problems, I’d guess their theme’s going to be a dog or two rather than music. Till I can get it removed, that is. Of course, I don’t know what the rules are for sure anymore, so I may not be able to get it removed. Hopefully, I can get them to take it indoors, though, cuz I really really do think there’s going to be a dog over there before two weeks is up. Not to mention a whole shitload of loud adults and kids. That I can live with, though. It’s music and dogs that I won’t tolerate. Not even for 5 more months.

Also, true to my vibes, they’re outdoors kinds of people. However, they were just moving in, and the weather yesterday was unbelievably mild. Like 20º below normal for being June. Perhaps something up there is going to call for mild weather for a while to let them be outdoors comfortably on account of me? Well like I said, voices I’ll tolerate, but nothing more.

The van came and went several times yesterday, and at one point, a blue/green pickup came with boxes and furniture and odds and ends. A guy and a girl in their late teens to early 20s unloaded the pickup.

When I got up at midnight, I saw a big huge furniture truck parked just outside their carport. The van was right in front of it. Do these people ever sleep, though? The lights were off when I looked over there, but the van left for a half hour or so just after midnight. As you’ll see, I’ve typed a log of their comings and goings. It’s been quite hectic, but fortunately for them, there hasn’t been much noise yet as far as slamming doors and voices go, and I’ve slept just fine. If you were to sit in the music room with no fans or music on, then yes, you can hear adult and kid voices. Van comes at 7:50 AM. Van leaves at 8:15 AM. Van comes at 9:30 AM. Van leaves at 10:30 AM. Van comes at 11:00 AM. Van leaves at noon. Blue/green pickup comes at 1:45 PM. Pickup/van leaves at 3:10 PM. Van comes at 3:40 PM. Van leaves at 12:30 AM. Van comes at 1:00 AM.

Tom and I both agree that it’ll be a rowdy weekend over there as far as people and cars go. They’re gonna want to show the place off to their millions of fucked up, jobless friends. He doesn’t think there’ll be a problem with music or dogs. He also thinks they work and that weekdays won’t call for much noise over there, but I don’t know. Like I said, God may let me out of having to deal with the music this time around, and thank God there’s no hoop there, but he’d never not let me have to deal with something. Never can Jodi have a neighbor that’s quiet or at least at a normal volume. There’s got to be something extreme. The bass vibes may’ve dropped slightly, but the dog vibe’s soared way up, and I think we can count on a dog over there for damn sure. It may take a couple of weeks, but that’s what I see. Along with the train of cars and people coming and going several times a day, it’s gonna be bark, bark, bark. Yeah well, they’ll just have to deal with me then.

Just like I did with that bitch, I’m gonna start a file on these people of their write-ups, omitting names, of course. You never know if in the end, I’ll want them to do some reading, too (if they’re not illiterate!).

Later…

Well, well, well. Our little freeloaders have been even naughtier than I was aware of. Tom didn’t leave me a message about what I’m about to write about (he crashed before I got up). He told me when he got up which was about 4 hours after I did. Bitch! Why’d you have to fucking move?! I swear it’s the same old shit all over again.

I don’t know how the hell I slept through this, but fortunately for them, I did. Tom says that the ranchero was here again and that it does have a bassy stereo which was blaring in the carport. Tom went out and told him to turn it down, but of course, I know it won’t do him a damn bit of good. I was curious, though, to know if the reaction was annoyed, or what. He said it was a kid, less than 18 years old, and that he startled him. The kid was apparently tired of hanging out with the adults, so it went to sit in the ranchero and make an ass of itself. This is all part of the hear-me obsession these subsidized, low-class, subhuman blacks and Mexicans have. The more you reject and try to turn away from someone, the more they rebel and try harder to be heard/noticed. It’s what they want. They want the whole neighborhood to hear them, to notice them, to acknowledge them, to know they’ve arrived. These sick fucks cry about not being accepted in society, but look how they treat people! Of course, society’s gonna try to brush these species out. Our refusal to tolerate such trash, though, only feeds fuel to the fire. Tom’s asking him to turn the music down will only ensure that all the more they go out of their way to blast us out. I know the drill. I know these kinds of filth. It’s the same old deal all over again. The only difference is that instead of a pack of skinny blacks, we’ve got a pack of fat welfare bums.

Oh, how I wish we could bake them a pie, bring it over to them, welcome them to the neighborhood, then watch them croak on the poison I put in the pie! Thanks, God! Thanks a real fucking lot! You really have a lot of concern and empathy for me, huh? Why do you always do this to me? Why do the rowdy shitfucks have to go next to me? Give me a break! What? Is this my compensation for having the last year of the black’s presence be fairly quiet? Why must I start this whole noise cycle all over again? Thank God, I don’t have to go through this for 3 years, but why can’t I just have quiet neighbors? Power of prayer, my ass! I knew praying for peace would be a waste of time. Now I have to fight to restrain myself from pummeling the shit out of them and do you have any idea how hard that is? It’s like drinking several cups of water and trying not to pee.

The dogs were going off last night, as usual. I’d like to say that they were rudely awakened from a peaceful slumber only to be pissed and have a hard time falling back asleep, but I know better. They all slept like logs regardless of the barking. The barking doesn’t bother them one bit. Not while they’re awake, not while they’re asleep. They just better not be waking me up, though, or else they’re gonna learn the hard way about the consequences of being such rude, selfish assholes.

I’m tired of society’s misfits! All our hard-earned tax dollars go to support these lazy bums while they turn right around and shit on us for it. That’s what we get for helping them. Such wonderful people! Why do these fucking subsidized city bums think that just because they’re in a subsided house that they can be so rude and so loud?! Why can’t these people blend into society and act like normal, civilized human beings and keep their noise for their ears only?!

So, here’s our new plan: Again, though, I don’t know how close we can come to acting upon our current plan, but the latest idea is to just do the bare necessities as far the prep work goes, then settle on a smaller 3-bedroom cookie-cutter house, or a house that already exists on a few acres of land, get out of here in 4-6 weeks, then get the dream home put on our property later on and turn the first house into a guest house or a place for Tom to work on projects and store stuff.

Also, Tom says he’s gonna assume the weekend will be wild over there since they just moved in, but that if they’re still wild come Monday, which he’s not gonna jump the gun and assume, then he’ll write a letter not only to the city address we’ve been using, but to the mayor too, and let them know that this is just ridiculous. It’s sickening! Totally, totally asinine! Well, he may be reluctant to assume anything, but I know. I know there’ll be trouble every day.

Anyway, Tom finished sanding the kitchen yesterday, and right now he’s draining the pool so we can do the step that’s chipped, and we’re gonna prep to paint and get the vent in the bathroom.

Even picking up this old, small house and putting it on a 3-acre lot is better than staying here, but to think that we may be forced to settle for a while on account of these fucking freeloaders really makes my blood boil! I don’t like feeling like I’m being controlled like that. Especially by sick twists that ought to be shot execution-style, or better yet, tortured for hours prior to being shot execution-style.

Later…

The furniture truck left a few minutes ago and the van’s out in the street. So I guess these freeloaders have furniture buddies, huh? That must be how they can afford to rent furniture. I suppose the furniture truck took off to make deliveries, but I don’t know. Is this truck going to live there, too? Or did the people with the truck just crash there overnight last night?

A red and white pickup that was loaded with God knows what and two guys just pulled up alongside the street to talk to some Mexican guy. Then the truck took off and the Mexican guy walked back towards the house. That’s vehicle number 7. I’ve lost count of the people, though.

Later…

Oh, no you won’t. Tammy just left a message, all nicey-nice, as if nothing ever happened. She said she was just calling to say hi, she hopes we’re doing OK, and she’ll talk to me later. Keep dreaming, sis!

SUNDAY, JUNE 6, 1999 I went to bed at around 5 PM and got up at 2 AM to find Tom asleep. He should be getting up in 2-3 hours. Meanwhile, to my utter amazement, nothing happened next door while I was up. I didn’t even hear any voices. Tom didn’t leave me any messages, but if anything did go down next door, it went down after I went to bed. All I saw, besides the furniture truck leaving at 8:00 and the red/white pickup, was the blue/green pickup at 11:30. It was there for almost an hour. Then the van left at 1:45. Someone was there watering the yard while the van was out. I’m not surprised, cuz I’m pretty sure there are at least two women and one guy living over there. However, there’s a chance that the guy was dropped off by the red/white pickup, then later picked up by the blue/green pickup. I never got to the window in time to see if the guy was dropped off or if he just went out to talk to them, but the more I think about it, the more I think he was dropped off. So, I don’t know if there are any guys living over there, but I do know there are two women living over there, and one of them isn’t supposed to be there. The one with the van. The van one may work, but I don’t know. I think the carless woman that lives there doesn’t work. I think that even when the van’s out, there’ll always be some adult at the house.

When I got up, I peeked over there. It’s a very dark night out so I can’t be too sure, but I’m pretty sure that the vehicle in the carport is the van that lives there. Also, they have their living room blinds open and a dim light on. I could see stuff piled up near the window, but nothing in particular. It looked more like a room with things thrown in it than a living room.

What I want to know is how the city can be so naïve. Are they really this dumb? Stupid enough not to do regular checks on their subsidized houses to get rid of all the people and cars that aren’t supposed to be there? I can just imagine how many of these subsidized houses have dogs in their yards right now that aren’t supposed to be there.

Yesterday, Tom got the vent installed in the bathroom, but there’s no electricity hooked up to it yet. That’ll be done today. He also spackled holes and I did a few, too. Did a good job, if I do say so myself.

Later…

OK, the sun’s up enough for me to see the vehicle in the carport and yes, it’s the van. Once again, though, if they don’t wake me up, get a dog, or go banging in and out with bass every day, they can fraud the system all they want and I won’t report this van that’s not supposed to be there.

Since my weight and inches aren’t going to go down anymore, I want to get my wedding ring enlarged sometime after we move.

Later…

I don’t believe this. I just don’t believe it! So far next door’s been quiet. There’s been some outdoor activity and vehicles coming and going as I’d predicted, but not only is there nothing going on that could wake me up, there’s nothing going on to disturb the peace in the house while I’m awake, either. If that basketball hoop was still there, though, they’d be driving me nuts. Tom said that 3 vehicles we haven’t seen before visited next door at 6:00, but that there was no music (that’s 10 vehicles). He saw a guy’s head in the backyard at 9:00 this morning when he was doing some outside prep work. For an hour or two, late this morning, I saw a guy and 3 kids out front. You’d think you’d hear their voices loud and clear throughout the entire house like you could with the Mormon kids, but nope. Only if you go into the music room can you hear an occasional burst of voices. At 2:30 the van left, then I noticed a red and white van parked there. The regular van that lives there returned shortly after (11 vehicles). So far things have been as expected, but not as expected. Except for the ranchero’s bass, Tom told me about, they’ve been too good to be true. So far. I’m not saying that they won’t start with constant music. I mean, I don’t sense it, but they’ve got to be furious with Tom for asking that kid to turn the music down. You don’t do that in Arizona. You don’t ask someone to quiet down. That’s like asking them to kill their mothers.

I don’t see anyone in front right now, but that’s typical of Arizona people, too. Always gotta hang out in front. Wouldn’t it be safer to have those kids in the backyard where it’s walled off? Then again, the main reason they hang out front is to be seen and to get attention. I can’t believe they only hung out there for just two hours, though. I really thought they’d be out there for more like 6 hours.

Tom said that ever since these people moved in, the collie house has had lights blaring like never before as if to say they’re afraid of all these people and fear they may break into their house. I don’t know about that. That bitch had a lot of people over there, too.

So, so far I haven’t gotten an eighth of the door slamming I’d get from the blacks. Most of the time someone comes and goes I never hear it (proving all the more that the blacks deliberately slammed doors loudly in regard to me). I’ve been right so far, though, about the hanging outdoors, the many vehicles coming and going, and the van living here. This next week will be an even bigger test, though. I say this will be the scoop: there may not be a music problem like what the blacks gave me, but at least one of the many people living there won’t work and will be home most of the time, the van will stay there, they’ll hang outdoors a lot, have many vehicles come and go, and they’ll get a dog. That’s when Tom contacts the city and the mayor, though.

Tom suggested we check at the library to see if the city still owns the house and that they didn’t sell it at a discount somehow, but we’re pretty sure it’s still city-owned and that these people are subs.

MONDAY, JUNE 7, 1999 Boy, do they leave early next door. Today they did, anyway. The van left just after 4:00. I could hear voices talking loud enough to tell me just how rude they are. They’re not as loud as the black bitch was, but loud enough for 4:00 in the morning. I could tell that the person in the van was talking to someone outside of the van as it was pulling out of the carport, so again, the person with the van who’s not supposed to be there, works. Meanwhile, there’s at least one adult home now, but probably two or more adults. I wonder if the van will leave this early every day. Does that mean it’ll be back as early as noon since people typically work 8 hours a day? At first I wondered if it was leaving to hide out from the city, but 4:00 is a little overkill of a head start on beating the city since they wouldn’t come out to the house till after 8:00. If they’re even coming out today. All in all, since they’ve been here, except for the ranchero’s mini-concert, they’ve been astonishingly quiet. The lack of bass tells me all the more I can expect a dog any minute (since God’s gonna compensate me for the lack of bass), but that’s when they’ll learn the hard way about following rules. And I’m still pretty sure they’re not supposed to have a dog. That van is not allowed to live there, either. So, if they know what’s good for them, they shouldn’t get a dog unless they want all their frauds exposed; the dog, the van, the people living there that aren’t supposed to be, etc.

Later…

The van’s back. When it left I heard one door slam, but just now I heard two. What? Are they going to be going in and out from 4 AM to after midnight? When do they sleep? And where in the world would you need to go for an hour at 4 AM and why? Questions, questions, questions. I like the mystery here. It makes for fun spying and detective work, but I still kind of wish the bitch had just stayed put. With her and her cronies, I at least knew what to expect. I knew pretty much who was who and what their patterns were as far as who’d come and go and when.

Tom called to let me know he’d be late. I figured as much.

Later…

In Kim’s email to me, she told me her fertility appointments are being postponed so they can check out what they think may be a growth on her cervix. Damn! Talk about hexed plumbing. I really really don’t think she’s ever going to be a mother. It’s rather obvious. I know the signs. All these setbacks are for a reason and I really think that if she was meant to be a mother, she’d have been one by now. She’d be too good of a mother, as far as God’s concerned. She just wouldn’t be abusive enough. Also, it’s what she wants.

Speaking of how life is unfair and all that, it’s amazing I haven’t gotten pregnant in the last couple of years. I’ve always known it’s not meant to be, but knowing how much God loves to give babies to women who don’t want them or who couldn’t cut it as a mother still amazes me that he’s let me off the hook as far as that general rule goes. Nonetheless, as far as Kim goes, something always comes up. There’s always a problem preventing her from conceiving. Regardless of the fact that she wants a kid and I don’t, see what I mean about God using things and other people to control our destinies? It’s no joke. With Kim, he’s using her plumbing and the fact that Walt’s had a vasectomy and is being resistant. With me, if I’m not too dry, too sore, or on a different schedule, it’s Tom’s fear, resistance, and the fact that there’s usually a problem with him. His back, a cold, being tired, sore, busy, too hot, a bum hip, allergies, bum knees, etc. About 7 or 8 out of 10 times we screw, we have to stop cuz of something going on with him. Coincidence? I don’t think so! Try a God-given fear. Well, he can rest assured, cuz even if he had no problems and squirted every day - fate is fate. Just because they couldn’t find anything wrong with me doesn’t mean I can conceive. It simply means that they don’t know why I can’t conceive. I know why, though, and that’s all that counts. I also know I didn’t have all the testing possible done, or have him tested (if he’d have been willing), but what I do know is that the results would’ve been the same - the tests would’ve been negative.

What are his fears based on? The usual - the time the kid would take up, the money it’d cost, my not being able to handle it. Those are the three basic things - time, money, and me. See the pattern? Now ask anyone who’s ever had kids and I’m sure that 98% of them will tell you the same thing - they conceived effortlessly, in no time at all, and they pretty much weren’t planning on it, if they weren’t totally against it. You either have kids just like that, or you don’t have them at all. So, my heart goes out to Kim, cuz I know what it’s like to want a child that cannot be had. I was once in her shoes. Again, as far as having to stop in the middle of sex goes - familiarity is comfortable. However, I feel like all the surprises are a thing of the past. There’ll be nothing new to look forward to. Nothing unexpected. It’s like how I feel about that bitch moving.

I sat and compared a cheaper 4-bedroom Cavco model to the 4-bedroom Redman model I love so much and you know, if we do have to settle if next door really gets out of hand, or if selfish people we’ve helped won’t help us with money if we fall short, it’s really not that much of a settlement. It has its pros and cons as do all models, but it would still work out very well. We could function in it just fine. I just worry that Tom will break his promise to me about not trashing his room, making it harder for me to clean. I know he’ll break that promise. That’s totally his style. He loves things cluttered, unorganized, and in sloppy piles. Saying there’s no room for the stuff is just an excuse.

Anyway, I like how the Redman model’s master bedroom is sandwiched in between its bathroom and its closet, and how it only has two windows. The Cavco has three windows and is on the corner, right smack by the front door. The Redman rooms are bigger, but the Cavco has more of a wall dividing the family room, the kitchen, and the dining area. Its kitchen also has a pantry. So, they sort of even out in the end, although I’d still take the Redman over the Cavco. The sandwiched bedroom with just two windows and the bigger rooms mean a little more to me than more wall length and a pantry.

Later…

That pain is back again. The one that feels like a UT infection. Again, always right before I’m mid-cycle. Could it really then be connected to the ovary on that side? I can’t believe God never hexed my plumbing with growths and things like that and had me have a hysterectomy. I guess he felt a dick that was virtually cumless would do the trick well enough.

Later…

The van left again. I’m sure it’ll be back by 10:00 or 11:00. I’ll bet you anything it’ll come and go 5 more times.

A small truck just pulled in across the street at the rental that says: carpeting & furniture something. There’s also a gray car there. Well, there was. It just pulled out. I wonder if they’re gonna re-rent it or sell it. I hope they sell it. That should keep it empty longer and up the chances of better, white people going in there, but that won’t change the chances of a dog ending up over there.

TUESDAY, JUNE 8, 1999 The van didn’t leave as early as 4:00, but I got a good look at the driver of the van, and it’s the guy I’ve seen living over there. I think I’ve got a better idea as to a headcount over there. At first I thought there were two women, a guy, and God knows how many kids over there, but now I think there’s a woman, a guy, and 4 kids. What is it with me and 4 kids? That cunt Barbara in Norwich had 4 kids, the Mormons had 4 kids, and from what I’ve seen, I’ve got 4 kids on my shoulders again.

All my predictions are ringing true so far, but I have yet to see the dog arrive, cuz I don’t think it’ll be here for another week or two. I just can’t believe how naïve and trusting the city is of its welfare bums!

The van comes and goes a million more times than the cock did, believe it or not. I find it hard to believe all these trips are to get stuff for the house. I don’t know where it’s going or why, or if it’s even legal, but at least these people don’t make such a big production out of it. They hop in the van, then after one or two door slams, they leave. They don’t hang out yelling for 10 minutes and slam doors 8 or 10 times before leaving.

Here’s another van report: Van left at 4:00, van came at 5:00, van left at 7:50, van came at 9:00, van left at 12:30, van came at around 1:00, van left at 2:30, van came at 3:30, van left at 4:45, van came at 4:00, van left at 4:10, van came at 4:30, van left and returned at least once more after 4:30. Yesterday, the van stayed in throughout the morning after returning at 9:00 and was gone at 12:30. I don’t know what time it returned, but it left again at 2:30. Then it made a quick run in and out at 4:00, left again, then came back at around 4:30. This was the last time I checked it before bed, but when I got up, I saw that the van was in a different position, so it had to have made at least one more run after 4:30. This is at least 8 times that I know of, that the van came and went. I just can’t believe this van doesn’t bang in and out! That tells me all the more that compensation from a dog is coming my way. If I can help it, though, that dog won’t be here for more than a week. Then God can go do something else to me. Tom says he doubts there’ll be a dog cuz of the patterns I usually see when I, or a move. It’s when they finally shut up or when I get a quiet neighbor that one of us moves. Well, it has been quiet so far, except for that one bass attack, and the collies. I’m very curious to see how the ranchero comes in the next time it visits. I think it’ll come in with its music much louder (Tom said it was almost as loud as the cock would play his music) cuz you know how people are - always gotta do the opposite of what you ask of them. It’s a human obsession.

Later…

The guy and the woman (I don’t know about any kids) left at 6:50 and returned at 7:11.

It’s not even 9:30 yet and already there have been two sales calls.

I’m getting bored with documenting my dreams, so I’ll just copy in what I’ve got so far, then I’ll just write the ones that really stand out. Here are the dreams I’ve written in from May 12th to June 6th:

I went back east to Massachusetts with Tom. We stayed in a motel and I went outside when it got dark and glanced up at the window above me. I saw that it was dark and assumed no one was staying above us. I remember thinking that Tom wouldn’t be seeing Connecticut or meeting anyone I knew there, due to my not being in touch with Tammy. We ended up in the yard of one of the houses I grew up in and were staying there for a while, apparently. I went out in the yard by myself. There was snow on the ground, even though we went there during the summer. I walked to a big swing set with 4-5 swings that had wicker baskets for seats. I saw a spider web on its bars and went looking for a stick to knock it down with. As I looked down on the ground, I noticed several straws from drinks. A feeling of sadness came over me at some point as I remembered how I only lived in the house 2-3 years before they sent me away. I felt cheated and like I hadn’t gotten to live there long enough. Inside the house, I pictured it set up with our stuff, then ran down the stairs into the living room where Tom was watching TV. Tom loved it there so much and when we were talking to someone about it, I said that if we did stay, it’d only be for a year, since I do love Arizona and newer, more modern places.

While back east, Tom was complaining to me about how the big maxi pad I was wearing bulged out in back. I bitched to him that hey, they were just big pads, so deal with it. It’s a normal fact of life.

A woman was playing a sex game with me, also back east, by rolling dice and touching a certain area of my crotch depending on what the dice said. At some point, I shouted that I was so horny and needed to get off. I couldn’t be teased anymore and she said, “Alright,” and kind of cupped my crotch with her hand.

In some building back east, I saw a young woman who appeared to be in her early 20s and wished I had her looks. I wished I could be just over 5’ like she was, that I was as thin as she was, and had her shorter hair and “simple eyes.” I then realized it was Jessie, who acted as if she didn’t know me.

I was alone at our supposed new home which was still sort of occupied. The people were on their way out, though. It was set up high on a hill-like slope in a crowded city by the ocean. Which ocean and where this was, I don’t know. Despite the congestion, the house was airtight enough that you couldn’t hear outside noise. At some point, people from the disability office were there, obviously doing some sort of evaluation on me. They sat at a large table in the middle of the house, while I was in one of the 3 spare bedrooms playing music. I had at least brought over my stereo, I guess. They called me out at one point to ask a question, then I went to the other end of the house to the master bedroom. Upon entering it, I wondered if it was too big for being just a bedroom, but then I decided that once the bed was in there, it’d look great. Besides, I wanted to sleep in the room that had the bathroom off it. I remember thinking that I hoped the former resident’s housekeeper would move out, since I wanted to live alone with Tom, and since I was used to the fact that if I wanted something done and done right, I had to do it myself or else it wouldn’t get done at all. I walked over to the window and admired the vast ocean view. Tears of happiness stung my eyes at the thought of living here and seeing this view every day. To the left of me, a partial statue that looked like the Statue of Liberty stuck up out of the water a few feet from shore. Then another thing dawned on me and I went out to where the group of disability evaluators sat. I asked them if they were aware of the fact that I wasn’t on disability anymore. They said no. Later on, at dusk, while I was still hanging out at the house by myself, Jim left a message saying that he and Jackie were having a party, but that they’d call later to see if I wanted one of them to pick me up and bring me over to their place for a while. I thought that was just oh so sweet of them that I called there to thank them. I couldn’t get Jackie or Jim to the phone, so I drove over to their house in my new car. Somehow, I knew the way and got there OK. I found Jackie who said, “My party ran later than expected.” I guess I stood there a little while. Then when it came time to leave, I chickened out, doubting I could find my way back safely enough, so Jackie drove me home and I asked if someone would drive my car over later. She said yes.

Apparently, I went to a GYN, who was secretive about the results of my exam. He said something about my needing steroids down there. Then I went and got into Nervous’s van and we agreed that we’d later figure out what I owed him for driving me around.

White people moved next door. I saw two cars, a woman, a man, and a boy around 10 years of age. The woman was coming towards me as I was walking towards our front door. It appeared she wanted to ask me something, but I just kept on walking and ignoring her as if I didn’t see her, not wanting to be associated with neighbors. I shut the door on her as I walked into our living room which was crowded with people.

I was watching what was supposed to be a Gloria music video, but that I also knew was no act. In real life, her son’s about 18, and her daughter’s about 4. In the dream, though, the son was about 8 and the daughter was in her teens. Gloria and her son were sitting on a couch. The daughter was crouched nearby sulking about something. Gloria was verbally coaxing the daughter to sit by her. Eventually, she did. She sat to Gloria’s left while the son was to her right. Then she leaned back against the son, who leaned back too, so that his back was to the couch while Gloria’s back was to his stomach, and she started moving up and down as if to massage the son’s stomach and her back at the same time.

I was waiting at Red Lobster for Tom to meet me there. I got there a long time before he did. At one point, I had to go to the bathroom and as I was walking toward it, I thought I saw Andy, but couldn’t be sure cuz the guy kept moving further away and the room was dimly lit.

I was in what was supposed to be this house, even though it didn’t look like this house. I was looking out our back door which was off a parking lot. A van pulled in and was parking as I shut the door, wondering if the person in the van could be a serial killer or something like that.

This dream had something to do with Tammy and Melanie. Something we were supposed to do for Melanie. A favor maybe? Anyway, I guess we never did it, cuz Mel didn’t seem too happy at one point. Marlee Matlin, the deaf actress, might’ve been in this dream, too.

I was wishing I could keep a schedule so I could get into watching TV series steadily. For some reason, a schedule was necessary for that in this dream.

Something about sucking up cobwebs from the ceiling with a vacuum.

I was at some huge, crowded store wondering how they closed a certain doorway with so many people streaming through it. Then some guy told me a warning beep goes off so people can know to move away.

I was supposed to wake Tom at 4:00. I don’t know if we were going to do fun shopping, errands, or what, but I was pissed when I realized it was past 4:00. I feared it was a whole hour past 4:00, and that he’d be pissed too, but a look at the clock showed I was only 20 minutes late in waking him up.

Tom tried to hide it by pulling an outer blind down outside the living room window, but we got new neighbors. It all began when I heard the obnoxious thump of bass. I went next door and saw that 5 white kids moved in. “Kids,” meaning between 18-20 years old. They had their music blaring away in an upstairs bedroom right by the wall of our house where our bedrooms are. At first, we were all friendly smiles as we introduced ourselves and shook hands, then I mentioned the music and could see by their sudden sulking faces and quiet demeanors that they weren’t too happy about my bringing that up. I knew that it’d take firmness to set them straight so I threatened to have them evicted if they didn’t shut up. Their silence continued. I asked one of the girls what her name was, but she just went slack-jawed, unsure whether or not to answer. She didn’t though. No one said another word from there on out.

Someone at some business, be it a library or something like that, looked on a computer and told me that the blacks weren’t evicted. They just moved on their own.

A cop was stalking me. It started out with him chasing me around a room trying to beat or kill me, but then it turned into a scene on a TV that I and someone else were watching. Tom and I lived on the third or fourth floor of an apartment, I guess, and I was afraid to leave any windows open. At one point I saw the stalker’s car pull up on the street and somehow I knew he was gonna pick the lock of our door and come kidnap me, so I went outside to hide.

I decorated a card with drawings for an old elementary school teacher - Joan Bowe.

I was ice skating.

Doe was sitting at a table with some guy crying about something, then looking out a window and commenting on people’s yards. These were yards of people she’d known for a long time.

Michelle, Andy’s friend, kills herself.

I was riding in the backseat of a convertible when I looked up at a tall building and saw it was an FBI building. Then I realized a few FBI agents were sitting in the front seat. They were asking me questions of some sort.

Someone, perhaps myself, killed someone. The dead body was sprawled across a table and a bunch of cops were milling about.

Something about a high-rise. Maybe an apartment building I lived in or a hotel I was staying in? I was walking outside of it when I realized it was already late fall and that we barely had a summer. It barely got up to 100 degrees.

I was psyched cuz Tom and I were going to do some serious shopping in some computer or electronics store. Then a rowdy high school crowd came in, and Chris Tazzini, a friend in elementary school, was suddenly there. She got shoved by the crowd and was annoyed.

We were away somewhere and I left Tom in some crowded downstairs room and went upstairs to change my dress for dinner. My ear began making a weird static-like sound. A voice said I better clean my ear, so I started to do that, then to do my hair till Christine McVie walked in and took over brushing my hair.

I was suddenly on a TV set, with who I believe was Roseanne Barr. I was noticing how fat she still was, wearing black. A color I figured they’d put her in.

My legs were stuck in rubber bands as I came awake from sleeping.

Two of the rats had babies. I had someone sex them for me. There were two females/two males. I kept the males.

I was observing someone pull a dead body from the ocean, but later on, I saw this person alive.

Me and a homeless girl whom I was hesitant about taking in as a roommate, stole some nice clothes from a fat lady.

My Bailey doll was undressed. I guess I was washing her clothes. I was looking for her diaper to put back on, but in reality, she doesn’t wear one. Just a sleeper.

Larry left a hateful message on our machine. At first, I was furious but then something about it (I don’t know what) had me cracking up with laughter.

I thought Tom wasn’t home and I wanted to order a pizza. For some reason, I felt I had to sneak it behind his back and keep it a secret, so I was wondering where I’d dispose of the pizza box after I finished the pizza. Instead of dumping it in the dumpster, I decided to dispose of it a few yards down. Just as I was going to call to place the order, I saw that Tom was home.

Tammy, Andy, and I were hanging out someplace. I was bitching to them about being fat and aging quickly.

My dolls had been packed away and undressed for some time. I put a leg back on that fell off of one of my Barbies, then I felt that it would be a good time to take all my dolls out and dress them. Patrice was the only one I couldn’t dress right away. I was in a building several stories up. Just outside the window, a foot away was another building just like the one I was in. Patrice was just inside the window right across from me. I knew I could open the window in the room I was in, reach across, open the window across the way, and pull Patrice across to my side, but it was nighttime, so I didn’t want to risk dropping her since I couldn’t see well.

I was filling up a big square tub in a big bathroom somewhere. I felt I had to pee and walked over to the toilet.

I was lying in a bed, and I don’t know if I had this baby or adopted it, but someone handed me a baby that sort of resembled Bailey with really long hair. Tom was standing to the left of the bed and his mom was sitting near the bed to the right smiling. Dureen was sitting behind her with a watchful, yet blank expression on her face. I tried to tell the baby that they were nana, but then I looked at our moms and said, “She doesn’t get it.”

Then some woman seated at a desk a few feet behind Tom, suggested a mold of the baby be made so I could use it to practice handling her properly.

I was looking through a phonebook and found Doe and Art’s current number and email address. In this phonebook, there were about 15 pages of family pictures, mostly of Tammy.

I was out just as the crack of dawn was setting in, roaming around a hillside at the beach I spent my summers at, only it didn’t look like that beach at all. I went indoors and suddenly, the 2-story cottage had no front wall. A carload of guys was slowly cruising by. The driver spotted me in one of the front rooms and moved back into a hallway where a closet was supposed to be, but then I realized he’d just back up the car and see me cuz there was no wall, and that’s what he did.

Tammy and I were at some beach or lake sitting on the shore.

Someone was showing someone the proof of someone’s kidnapping and explaining how they were kidnapped.

I was videotaping my so-called long-haired cat who looked like a dog. I was planning on sending Dureen and Art a copy of this video and I was wondering if they’d think this cat was really a dog.

I heard bass softly thumping and I opened the front door to find 3 full carloads of the black bitch’s associates. Guess they came back to live next door.

I went to Florida to see my parents, I guess. I don’t know if Tom was with me. I don’t remember seeing Art in this dream, just Dureen. I was sitting at a table with her and some others. She asked us if we needed anything. I said that just turning up the AC would be good enough for me, and she did. Then she was showing me the rest of the place and it dawned on me that it was similar to the same manufactured home we were looking to get. I remember thinking to myself that I’d just be cool, cuz I’d be disappearing and they’d never see me again after our visit.

I was in a private school that was several stories. A staff member kept asking me to take a test I’d already taken. We were in some huge kitchen with slanted skylights at a long picnic-like table that was filled with several girls or women and we were eating cheesecake. Then at one point, I was climbing out of a pool with two other girls who admired my really long hair.

I was dancing with somebody who was trying to give me these slurping, disgusting kisses.

Tammy told me she was using coke regularly.

I beat up some girl.

I took a journal that was half full of writing and gave it to Melanie. I’m not sure if I was going to leave the last half of it blank for her to use, or if I’d written something just for her in the last half, but anyway, right before I was going to give it to her, I realized I better check the first half in case there was anything there I didn’t want her to see. After checking it, I saw that they were mostly drawings.

Tom and I moved into our new house which may’ve been somewhere back east. This is because the house was huge and old, especially huge. We were on our way to go gambling. Tom asked me if I was excited about it. I said yes, but that knowing we weren’t destined to ever really win anything dampened some of the excitement. He went to wait for me in the car. I was in the kitchen and I remembered that I had reminded myself to look for a good spot for the garbage pail. I scanned the room and decided on a spot and planned to tell Tom when I got into the car that I found a spot in our perfect kitchen for the pail. I left the kitchen and entered the long, huge living room, heading for the door. Then I saw a light on at the opposite end of the room that I felt should be turned off. The living room was so huge that it was quite a jog down to where this light was. Some other day we went back to the old house. I don’t know why, but I saw that we left my wind chimes there and other outdoor things. We left stuff in the attic, too. As I was realizing this while standing out in the backyard, I saw that the people with the collies two yards down were having a huge party and were using next door’s yard too, since there was still no one living there. A kid would pop up every few seconds from behind the block wall and blow through a harmonica at me.

“Shauna” and I were talking about how she could afford to take a month or two off from work to go on a cross-country drive, which she said she’d been wanting to do.

I started some job in Maine and was filling out a questionnaire. One of the questions asked if I liked living in Maine. My boss reminded me she wanted me to wait an hour after work so she could do some treatment on me (connected to my female parts?) and I was wondering if the buses would still be running when we got done. I knew Doe would be home, believe it or not, so I made a mental note to call her for a ride when I could go home.

I was going up and down an elevator in a 6-story building. I got off on the 6th floor and found myself surrounded by fall foliage. When I tried to leave, I couldn’t find the elevator or any other exit.

I was showing Dureen my dolls.

A cop was sadly saying how he found some well-known actress had committed suicide.

Later…

The van left again at 9:50 and I don’t know when it returned, but it’s here now.

Yesterday, I was feeling a little bummed. Fortunately, I rarely feel that way these days, but it was mainly cuz of how long things are taking. I’ve been waiting to move to a house like we want that’s outside of the city for years now. Tom cheered me up, though, then we went to a couple of stores. Also, the frustration of being tight constantly was bringing me down, tiring me out.

I got some more books and some pet food.

Tom saw them cleaning the carpet across the street and thinks they’re gonna try to re-rent the house, rather than sell it. That’s too bad. I had hoped they’d sell it, but hey, we shouldn’t have too many more months to go. In fact, my move date vibe changed from the middle of October to early September. Tom still thinks we’ll move in July or August. Late August is possible, but I don’t know.

Tom’s picking up paint tomorrow.

I’ll really be looking forward to going back to Cigna when we move. I hate Intergroup. It may be more crowded, and the co-pay is higher, but it’ll be worth it to have doctors that are more dependable, all in one building, along with a pharmacist right in the building too, where I can get 3 months’ worth of refills at a time, rather than one refill at a time.

This time around the pain went away faster than it did the other months I had that pain in the lower right side of my gut. Guess it helps to have the cranberry juice on hand.

WEDNESDAY, JUNE 9, 1999 Been here for 7 years today!

More evidence has come in to make my mass ovulation theory a little more likely. I can’t say for sure, cuz I’m no expert, but I just had a big spot. I’ve noticed I tend to spot after having those mid-cycle pains. I’ve read you can bleed a little when you ovulate, so if you can bleed from ovulating one egg, imagine how you could bleed from releasing a lot of eggs. Normally, you’re not supposed to be able to feel yourself ovulate, but if the ovary wall is opening up wider than usual, with a lot of eggs going through it like a bunch of people trying to cram through a doorway, maybe you could feel it. Any kind of cyst is out of the question, cuz those grow for a long time before they hurt, and it would’ve shown up last December. Why it feels like a UT infection, though, beats me, but I find it awfully hard to believe I’m getting a UT every month at the same time of month. Also, I had no cramps. Usually, when the bleeding’s coming from the uterus, you have cramps, but I never had cramps.

If my theory is right, though, it makes no sense. It’s totally against destiny. Why would God allow me to release so many eggs at once if he knew a kid wasn’t meant to be unless the eggs were maybe dead? I can see it making sense if a kid was meant to be to bypass his not cumming, but since it’s not, I just don’t get it, if this is the case.

If God can do anything, though, and if I’m right about a kid not being meant to be, then it doesn’t matter if Tom doesn’t feel comfortable with cumming, and it doesn’t matter how many eggs I do or do not have, dead or alive.

Now I’ve got quite an update on Andy, which for the most part, isn’t very good.

We finally got to talk yesterday. I couldn’t believe he didn’t leave me any messages last weekend, but I think I know why. He started off by telling me that when he got the letter I sent to Gary’s house, he was not a happy camper and he suggested I don’t include my journal excerpts. He said I was so mean and he was offended by the following excerpt:

I first showed him my dolls, then the animals. He had trouble focusing, though, and I couldn’t get his attention to hold on to any one subject for too long. If I’d comment about the dolls, he’d ask about the rats. If I’d comment about the mice, he’d ask about objects in the back room.

When I wrote this I didn’t mean it to be “mean.” I meant it to be simply a fact like if I said I was short, I was hyper, I had asthma, etc. It was just an observation I made, and I do the same thing all the time. We both do. We’ve both always been on the hyper side and tended to repeat ourselves a lot and jump from subject to subject, and even he himself has admitted to this. It isn’t just him and I’m not saying he’s a bad person for it. I was simply stating what I perceived his state of mind to be at the time. It was sort of like he was distracted and had his mind on other things. I never meant to imply that he wasn’t paying any attention at all to the things I was saying, although yes, Andy has always had a problem with being a little on the selfish side and once again, he’s even admitted this, and has said that he’s gonna do what he wants to do.

I was right about his suspicions too, cuz I’ve dumped my sister and parents in the past and he never wondered if he was next back then. Now, though, he’s wondering if he could be next cuz I seem to have a problem with his ways, he says. There was no way I was gonna lie. I told him “I don’t know what the future holds with that.” Then I guess my dumping him won’t hit him as hard or surprise him as much.

Andy mentioned how he doesn’t dump people so easily, and he’s right. My having a hard time tolerating his ways, and my not sticking to the friendship as faithfully as he has, is my problem. In fact, if I had to pick Andy’s best quality, it’d be his sticking to friendships and not dumping people. I sort of envy him. I wish I could be as faithful and as tolerant, but on the other hand, I used to be that way and found that that was what got me in so many jambs with people. By sticking by and tolerating fuck-ups like Fran for as long as I did, I ended up having to deal with all his shit for as long as I did. Same goes for Nervous and so many others. I’m not saying I didn’t give them any shit in return, but things have changed. I think Andy’s in denial, not willing to accept that we’ve become so different from one another, but it’s true. I’m very very picky as to who I associate with nowadays, and not as tolerant as Andy is or as I used to be. I’m not saying his ways are wrong (except for the pot and the smokes, cuz it’s always wrong when we abuse our bodies) I’m just saying I’m bored, sick of, and annoyed by them, and that’s my own problem. If it’s wrong, or a weakness on my part, then so be it, but it’s not his fault.

It’s tough for me with my conflicting feelings. A part of me wants to stick by him like he’s stuck by me, not dump him, try to be more accepting and tolerant of his ways, and risk the consequences of being in his car again with his pot. Even though he’s a damn good driver, anything’s possible. The other part, the much bigger part, says to walk away for reasons that I’ve already gone through a million times.

Later…

The blue/green pickup’s here now. Also, the van apparently made its first trip in and out for the day, because it’s parked in a different spot than it was earlier.

Back to Andy. What it comes down to is that we’ve just become very different people with very different interests. I’m not saying I’m not doing some things I was doing back in the 80s, like journaling, and I’m not saying we have literally nothing in common, I’m just saying that his ways aren’t for me anymore, and I don’t want a druggie for a friend anymore. I’m just bored with his ways and I’m tired of talking to someone that’s baked out of his mind nearly every time we talk, and who just doesn’t get or remember half the things I say. Or write. He just gets on my nerves. If that makes me a Dureen, in a sense, for being so non-accepting and non-tolerating, then so be it, but I feel it’s best to walk away from him than to try to change him. I’ve politely asked him certain favors, like not eating on the phone, which I don’t think is asking too much, but to try to change everything about him that bugs me would be trying to change him. Meanwhile, he’s got other people he can call who’ll accept and tolerate his ways. Even if he backs off the phone like he has as soon as he suspected he was next, it’s still time to move on. We’ve done our time together and we’ve done what we were destined to do for each other (but I’m not always sure what I was supposed to have done for him).

Wow, it’s the 9th and I’m already on the 20th page for this month. For last month, I was only on the 4th page or so by this time.

Later…

The girl and the guy in the blue/green pickup just left. I remember seeing them when they were unloading the pickup. They’re fairly young. He’s sort of beefy and she’s your classic fat mom, but not as fat as the lady that lives there. She has long hair. It was pulled back in a ponytail with a white scrunchy.

What? Did we forget something? The pickup just came right back, then went right back out again.

We didn’t finish our discussion about his trip (cuz Tom came home and I wanted to spend a little time with him before he had to crash), but I’m very happy with him for the fact that he didn’t try contacting Tammy. I appreciate his respecting my wishes. I’m shocked he hasn’t mentioned God or food, but I’m sure he will soon enough. Again, this isn’t something I detest with a passion. So be it if he wants to tell me about God and the food he eats. Just because I think he’s delusional about God for the most part, and just because I think he’s making a pig of himself and making himself sick, doesn’t mean he’s wrong for it. He can believe what he wants and eat what he wants. It’s just that it gets old, that’s all. I still can’t figure out, though, if he’s stuffing himself to reflect Michelle onto himself, or if he’s doing it to make himself sick so he can have an excuse to avoid working.

All he really told me was that it didn’t rain on him, miraculously, but that it was hot, muggy, and cloudy the whole time he was there. He didn’t get to spend much time at the beach cuz of the cloudiness, and cuz Jenny, Gary’s girlfriend, fucked him out of having some time to himself at the cottage. So did Jenny’s stepfather. I guess he just had to do some work on a cottage wall at the time Andy wanted to be there. Then Jenny came down and took a whole slew of people along with her that live barely an hour away and that could’ve used the cottage any other time. Well, that whole family and its associates have always been notorious for being rude. Except for Marla, although she’s been rather rude to Charlotte. I agree with Andy as far as that goes - fine. Don’t be nice to Charlotte. But let the past go and don’t be rude and tell her you didn’t mean to say hello when you accidentally did cuz you thought it was someone else. I haven’t had any experience with Linda other than the phone chat we had last December, but I can see what Andy means when he says he feels like he’s walking on eggshells when he’s around her. I can see how she may be hard to deal with. This is why I haven’t contacted her as much as Marla. Judy and Al have always been phony, rude, selfish, vindictive, lying, gossiping trashholes, and the brothers are unstable little druggies themselves. Most of the family treats poor Andy like an outsider who no longer belongs cuz he’s even more different and cuz he’s moved away.

I don’t know what really happened in the 70s with our parents. Was it Judy and Al’s fault? Dureen and Art’s? Both? Don’t know and don’t care. All I’m saying is that I’ll never know for sure what went down, but I do know this - I know what these people are capable of. I’m sure they all fucked each other over. Shitfucks shit on other shitfucks all the time. An asshole for an asshole. That sort of thing. Know what I’m saying?

Meanwhile, I sent a note to Andy explaining the excerpts to hopefully smooth over his poor little feelings for now. I’m trying not to make any waves till we can get out of here. I’ll put up with a little more than I normally would, cuz it’s only for a few more months. It’s not like I don’t care about his feelings at all. I do, but at the same time, I can only spend so much time worrying about his precious, fragile feelings. I’m sure he can relate to that, too.

Speaking of precious, fragile feelings, I’m both surprised and not surprised that I haven’t gotten a call from Tammy about the letter I sent her explaining why I don’t want anything to do with her. Again, not that it’d change a damn thing, but just to express myself, which always feels good. I’m surprised cuz I know a letter like she got would upset her, but I’m not surprised cuz she probably wouldn’t want to give me the satisfaction of a reaction, but she’d be falsely flattering herself if that’s what she thought it’d be. A reaction wouldn’t satisfy me at all. No way. I don’t want to know she exists.

Anyway, the next thing I’m going to cover that Andy told me about makes me think, what a total, total loser! How desperate! What a waste of time! But hey, it’s his life. It doesn’t make it a bad thing, just because I wouldn’t want to go cross country to make out with some bar slut. He went to a new bar and made out with some guy, then had to deal with Adam’s boyfriend squeezing his ass. He didn’t want to tell Adam cuz of how happy he was. I can understand that, but poor old Adam’s happiness isn’t bound to last. He’s gotta find out sooner or later, I’d think, that his boyfriend’s a regular little whore.

I don’t know what else he did there. I’ll find out in our next conversation, but I have a feeling this is all he did.

He said that Wendy was super high all the way back there. She does major drugs like Laura did. Yeah, that’s an Andy friend for you.

He said he’s not going to be distributing notes anymore, cuz Wendy got him to see that he should be promoting peace, not terrorizing people. Good advice for a crystal druggie.

Later…

I was wrong. Tammy just tried calling twice, but I quickly picked up and hung up before a message could be left. Maybe I shouldn’t have told her I didn’t want to know she existed and that I’d erase any messages she left as soon as I heard her voice. You know how people are - gotta do the opposite of what you tell them.

An out-of-area call just came in right after the two with Mark’s number, which is typically sales, but it also says that for collect calls. Even so, I have a feeling that despite the many sales calls we get, that was Tammy trying to see if she could get through by calling collect.

I know Tammy, though. She’s a stubborn bitch who doesn’t give up. If she really wants to push her existence in my face, she’ll try again till she can leave a fuck you message, but fine. That doesn’t mean I have to listen to it or have her, her parents, or her brother in my life ever again.

I wonder, does Andy even have her number anymore? If so, he can call her and she and he can bitch about me together after I’m gone.

I asked Tom for his opinion as to my walking away from Andy and the others. He said he didn’t see the necessity of it cuz one can just let things evolve apart. Yeah, right! Not with the parents, the sister, and Andy. That’s not the way it works with them.

Later…

This is the longest stretch of time I’ve known the van to stay put. It’s been where it’s at since around 8:00 this morning. The pickup’s here again, though.

Tom sanded some more spackling and ordered the paints to be mixed. They’ll be ready tomorrow. Just the outside trim and the interior paints, though. We still have to bring them a sample of the light blue that’s on the house and hope they can match it. That way we only have to do the bad spots and not the whole house. We’re gonna be painting the exterior a glossy extreme white, and the interior walls a flat bridal gown. We need to get Blue Mist for the pool, and I don’t know what the yellow for the cabinet is called. I think that one only goes by a number, not a name.

I have more news on Andy. We talked for what seemed like forever and it took me 4 tries to get him off the phone. If I wanted to hang up at noon, for example, I’d have to start mentioning it and trying at a quarter till. Nonetheless, the conversation went well. He seemed sober and alert and spoke more fluently. Yes, most of what he told me was the same old same old, and the inevitable food and God delusion came up, but some of the things he told me were just so typical of him, that they were actually kind of amusing.

Let’s see…he left off with making out with Adam’s roommate and getting his ass squeezed by Adam’s boyfriend. After that, he went to the beach with Wendy. From what he’s told me so far, Wendy sounds pretty fucked up and selfish. He says she doesn’t do drugs as much since leaving Phoenix, though, and that she hated it here.

He didn’t see Charlotte, but he saw Natalie and Al. Natalie said to give her regards to me. Like I really care! He told me of some cottages that got modernized, including his favorite.

He said the first time he went down there, the water was unusually blue and clear. So clear you could see the bottom. What happened to that brown murky filth we always used to know? He said the place was litter-free too, till he went down the second time. He said the second time, the water was just as clear, but there was litter on the flat rocks. So, he decided that he was going to clean it up and not take any credit for it, cuz it’s best to get that from God. Gee, I wish I could get credit from God where it’s due me! I mean, what’s the trick? How does he get credit while I don’t? He said his tongue had been hurting him cuz of a decayed tooth rubbing against it, but that after he cleaned up, it was gone. He said he didn’t appreciate how Wendy bragged to a couple of people walking by that they were gonna go clean up. She never lifted a finger to help either, as Andy figured would be the case.

He said he had a lengthy discussion with his mother. His inheritance will be the condo they own in Springfield, which he doesn’t want. He says he’s gonna sell it and put the money towards buying some other house out here. Judy told him she felt he’d be happier if he sold his stuff and drove home, and that he could stay with them rent-free for as long as he needed to. Andy told her that even though his life is the same here as it was there, he’s staying here. Wendy also offered to put him up in the guy’s mansion she lives in in Brookline, New Hampshire. It’s nice to know he has all these options open to him.

He said he was bored most of the time he was there and that two weeks is too long. He said he’ll only go back there for a week at a time from now on.

Later…

Tom said he didn’t think the Ranchero would be back and that he thought it was just someone helping them out only. Well, it’s back. I knew it would be. The amazing thing about it is that I haven’t heard any music, but we’ll see. The pickup’s still here, too. None of these Mexicans work. They’re totally, totally lazy bums.

Later…

Andy finished off his visit in New Hampshire. The guy that owns the house bought an old ski resort which is the mountain his house sits on. He said the house was gorgeous and so was the view looking down into town. Wendy takes care of this house when the guy’s out of town. He owns 4 houses.

Wendy introduced him to a “functional drunk” who lives nearby. Leave it to Wendy to know such a character. He said that she had a nice house too, with a horse that was well taken care of. She was some artist, I guess, who was seeing a married man.

Andy flew out of New Hampshire and not from Bradley. He flew to Baltimore, then boarded his plane for here. He said he was sitting next to a couple of unruly boys, got up to go to the bathroom, then sat down in a different seat next to a gay guy. The guy was his type, but was from DC and only going to Phoenix for a wedding. Figures, huh? That’s just his luck. If he weren’t his type, he’d be headed for Phoenix to stay.

He told me he went to the bar when he first came back, which was loaded with your typical sluts. He said it was also the first time he went 90 minutes in a bar without smoking. He’s been thinking of quitting a lot. Aren’t most smokers?

I was right about Michelle. I knew it. I just knew it. She did get dumped by that so-called stable teacher. That so-called stable teacher was very similar to how Kacey was, telling Michelle she loved her one minute, then didn’t want her in her life the next. What a shit! She’s been getting jerked around by this girl yet she’s too stupid to keep putting up with it. She and Andy have what I believe to be a very warped idea of relationships. To them, a bad relationship is better than no relationship. I’d rather be alone than have my head played with like that. If Michelle keeps following in my footsteps like she has been, then she won’t settle down with the right person till she’s in her late 20s (she’s 24 or 25 now), and the person she settles down with just may have a dick attached to it.

Here’s the part that’s funny while it’s not funny. It’s just so Andy. Only he could end up in a situation like this with people like Beth (that’s the shit’s name). Beth is bi and has hit on Andy before. That’s when he learned the truth about Beth and decided he didn’t like her.

Andy, Michelle, and Beth went to Camelback Mountain. The three of them were sitting side by side and at one point Beth asked for a kiss, since Andy’s breath mints make your breath wonderful, as he says. Andy looked at Michelle for a response and got none, so he and Beth made out right there in front of Michelle with her watching.

Then they ended up in Andy’s bed. Everyone had their clothes on, except Beth lost her shirt at some point. Michelle was massaging her while Andy was licking her tits. Then Michelle pulled back and said, “Andy I can’t do this. You’re my friend and you’re a guy. I never wanted a threesome in the first place.” So, Andy apologized and admitted to being vulnerable and susceptible at the moment, cuz he was lonely, horny, and missing Quinn. Quinn, of all scum-sucking waste products! Quinn, I love you for hanging your ass, you little cock!

THURSDAY, JUNE 10, 1999 Tom said the war was over. I don’t watch the news. Too depressing. So I asked him which war he was talking about and he said we were bombing some country I’d never heard of. I asked why the slut president felt that was necessary and he said just because. That’s what’s really scary. If you can bomb innocent people in other countries, why not in your own country? People are sick enough to let their friends and family be killed just so they can take down the whole country and more. And then of course there’s our wonderful God to fear and despise for letting this happen.

Yesterday, I saw a young fat girl move the Ranchero to let the blue pickup out, driven by the fat girl and the guy. A couple of hours later, the Ranchero left. No music.

It looks like we may have more Mexicans moving in next door. There’s a gold pickup I’ve never seen before, and then the blue one was here for a while, too. The van’s been in all day. The van didn’t take off till late afternoon yesterday, but for how many times, I don’t know. Anyway, I saw tons of kids and adults carrying kids’ toys into the house. See, this is the problem with Mexicans. They cause overcrowding due to the way they breed like rabbits. Take a house, any house, and you’ve got wall-to-wall Mexicans.

Some guy was asking Tom, as he pulled in today, what the scoop was with next door. I guess we’re not the only ones who aren’t happy about it being a rental, and even more so that it’s an overcrowded rental owned by the city. So, Tom’s gonna send a letter to the city using the address we’ve been using to let them know of the overcrowding in a couple of days. If they start being noisy, the letter will go in right away, to the city and to the mayor.

I decided the pack of freeloaders isn’t worth the ink and paper, so I’ve decided to print the 15 or so pages I have on them and mail that in a regular envelope. I’m not gonna mail them all I’ll write about them while we’re here and send it to them in a manila envelope like with the blacks.

If I said it before, I’ll say it again - thank God there’s no hoop over there! I still can’t believe how quiet they’ve been though, as far as the kids go, and as far as that one bass attack being all we’ve heard so far. I just hope we’re out of here by the time the weather starts cooling down!

The fucking freeloaders are overloading the dumpster. I did say, after all, that there’s a lot of trash next door. God! Why me? Huh?! Why is it always next to me?!

Tom got the paints today (the yellow for the cabinets is called yellow rose) and we’re gonna begin painting this weekend. Right now, he thinks we can be moved by early August. I hope he’s right! At least my October vibe has faded. Even September’s a little weak, so that’s good.

Later…

Damn, these fucking distractions! I’m trying to talk to my husband, but the fucking phone which rings non-stop, just won’t fucking quit! When am I gonna be paid back enough, God? When are we going to let the past be the past and move on, huh? How much more payback do I deserve? Maybe someday he’ll forgive me for my mistakes as well as for my forefathers.

Both pickups have left, but how many people are in that house right now and how many are living there for sure, is still unclear. I just know there are close to a dozen and that most of them aren’t supposed to be there.

I forgot to mention that Tom said Butterscotch lunged at him the other night. He just charged at him when he was walking by to let Shiny out. I believe it. He is a meany. The most aggressive of the rats.

I cleaned the rat’s cage today and put newspaper in place of sawdust. I want to see how well it absorbs, how messy it is, and how much they like it, although I tend to think they don’t give a damn one way or the other. I’m hoping this will work out, cuz I’m getting a little tired of their kicking sawdust outside the cage.

Also, I cleaned the bar walls of the cage. It took me nearly 3 hours to clean it rung by rung.

I just can’t wait to move! The only sad part of it is that when we do move into that bigger, nicer, more modern home with its beautiful desert landscape and its peace and quiet, there’ll be a price to pay for it. You think God’s gonna let me have it sweet and nice with no strings attached? Think again! That’s not the way God works with me. Every good thing he lets me have has a string or two attached. I don’t know what the payment’s gonna be, though. Could be something wrong with the house, something wrong with us, more problems at work for Tom. My guess is that he’ll have things within the house, among our stuff, break or not work right. It’d be just my luck to move and find that the dishwasher doesn’t work, but at least we’ll be out of here!

I mentioned to Tom certain things I saw happening when we moved, including that the sex would remain as it has been. Then he had the nerve to say he would go down on me but was hesitant cuz he doesn’t want me to pretend I’ve cum. What a lame excuse. Why does he always have to make up some bogus excuse, or pin the blame on me, instead of just coming out and admitting that he doesn’t want to? It’s plain and simple - he doesn’t want to. He can just say so. Not make excuses.

The nerve of him, though, cuz wasn’t it him that was the pretender for a while there? Wasn’t it him that claimed to be cumming most of the time for many months till I spilled the beans on him and let him know I knew better? I told him how it was quite ironic how things changed as soon as I spilled the beans on him. When I pointed this out to him, though, he said that it comes and goes in spurts. Yeah, right. Uh-huh. Tom, you’re great at just about everything, but you’re a lousy liar. I mean how fucking convenient to say that, huh? He says the reason he hasn’t been cumming lately is cuz he’s had problems, be it colds, his back, etc. But he always has a problem. Ever since I knew him, there was a problem. Some are legit, but my gut instinct tells me that most of them were just excuses.

I hope he isn’t forgetting the important thing and that’s that he can never cum again if that’s what he wants, as long as he’s happy, doesn’t lie, or play games. I appreciate the fact that he hasn’t put me through the sexual head games he used to, like the I-forgot-how-to-screw game he used to play with me when he wouldn’t go inside.

Oh, did I tell you yet how he’s changed from guessing we’ll have a child to that being a logical thing to happen? Yeah, he feels a kid is logical cuz of how our lives are going. That’s what he said in the past several times. Well, he can stay in denial all he wants and believe what he wants, but I know two things. That it can’t happen no matter how our lives are going, and that it’s still not what I want.

Later…

The van’s made a couple of its multi-trips out.

Again, the little animals are out with the sunset. It amazes me that I can see them, but I can’t hear them.

Tom and I were talking about how mish-mashed this house is. Some of the baseboards are wood, some are vinyl. Some of the plugs/outlets are wood, some are plastic. They used two different types of wood to do the kitchen cabinets and two different shades of yellow. A darker shade for the upper cabinets and a lighter for the bottom. Then there’s the shade of yellow that’s in the tiles, and the contact paper that’s white with yellow wicker-like stripes that’s on a few of the cabinet doors. Of course, there’s also that blue/green paint I painted on, too. Then you have the disgustingly ugly floor colors of gold, dark orange, and brown.

Tom’s mom sent us an anniversary card with a $25 check.

FRIDAY, JUNE 11, 1999 This is the third morning I’ve woken up to spots. They go away after I’ve been up for a little while. It’s obviously accumulating in my sleep, then when my body’s upright after awakening, I bleed a little.

The day before yesterday I was up for 18 hours and slept for only 6 hours. I wasn’t tired, though. Yesterday I was up about 16, your normal number of hours that you’re up for, but then I only slept 5 hours. I crashed last night close to midnight and got up just before 5:00. I’m a little tired. This is good, though, cuz I’m gonna need to be on days as much as I can while we’re prepping and moving.

The bird clock’s dead already? But we just changed the batteries. Damn, those sounds really suck up the juice!

I don’t know why I’ve been calling the house I like best a Redman model when it’s a Palm Harbor. It gets hard to keep track of all the names. There’s Shultz, Redman, Cavco, Palm Harbor, and more.

Later…

The gold car just came next door, and again, I swear this old couple’s white. The guy was on crutches. It’s weird, though. Why would this seemingly well-to-do white couple want to associate with poor, lazy old scum? I don’t have a bad vibe on next door for the weekend, but unless the Ranchero or some other vehicle bangs in, I shouldn’t. That’s because I’m still pretty sure that the weekends will be just like the weekdays and when you don’t work, and none of the people you know work, your daily routine tends to be the same whether it’s the weekend or not.

The gold car’s leaving. This time, someone’s in the backseat with them. The guy’s nauseating, though. Totally anorexic. It seems that the guys I’ve seen over there are bone-thin while the women are huge. Except for the one that comes with the girl in the blue pickup.

Once again, though, just like with the blacks, all the vehicles except for the Ranchero have been nice and fairly new. Whoever it is that owns the van, does not work. I doubt they inherited the money to buy the van and laze around. They either stole the money for the van. Stole something and cashed it in so they could buy the van. Or they’re dealing drugs or doing something illegal in order to afford the van and laze off.

SATURDAY, JUNE 12, 1999 Our beautiful freeloaders have been predictable, outdoors, at home practically all the time, and have company every day. I can’t believe there’s only been one bout of music and that there’s no dog yet, but I still have a dog vibe.

The van’s been in and out already and is in and out a dozen times a day. At least, like I said before, they hop in and go. They don’t slam doors a dozen times to get my attention along the way. I heard them talking in their carport, but couldn’t make out anything that was said. I saw a broom handle leaning against the house and saw that their driveway was wet, so they’ve been watering again.

Here we go again with the weekend calls from Andy. That’s OK, though, cuz if all goes well and as planned, there should only be about 8 weekends left here.

Anyway, there’s a gold car here, but it’s not the same gold car that the older couple drive. At least I don’t think it is. It seems darker. I think that whoever drives this car has kids, but don’t all freeloaders? Yesterday, about 4-5 animals were out front. Amazingly, the only sound I heard was when one of them decided to beat its hand on the basketball hoop pole that still stands.

MONDAY, JUNE 14, 1999 I’ve got a ton of stuff to write about. A ton! I may not remember everything in the first shot, so I may have to come back and make additions as more things come to me. I wasn’t in a good frame of mind to take notes for the most part, and yes, it has to do with our wonderful freeloaders. Besides the lovely welfare bums, though, I was quite busy. Before getting to next door, let me get other things out of the way first.

I’m having second thoughts about an exercise machine. It’d take hours and hours of working out every day to get the ideal body and to really make a difference in my muscle tone and my appearance. I just don’t have the desire to work out 8 hours a day. I’m never gonna be smaller than I have been the last 6-7 months, and I’m never gonna be under 108 pounds again, either. Not without starving or being ill. So, it’s best I just accept that and do the best I can to maintain the muscle and appearance I’ve got now, but I’m not gonna drive myself crazy with it and slave myself 8 hours a day. I’ll never be thin again and that’s that.

I’m hoping to get Trio 2 sometime soon. I forgot about that till I remembered it the other day. That’s the second album Linda, Dolly, and Emmylou did together. They put out their first one in ‘87 when I was living on Oswego Sreet in Springfield.

That wasn’t Andy who called Saturday morning when I last wrote. I was surprised he didn’t call me on Saturday, though. He chose Sunday evening instead. He told me that he and Michelle had been having fun going to gay bars.

I did get a call on Saturday morning from someone else, though. I got up at 8:00 that morning and saw that my dear old sister called. When I went to listen to her message, I got the exact opposite of what I expected to hear. I expected her to really lay into me and cuss me out and cut me down in every way possible, but instead, all she said was hi, hope to talk to you guys soon. What’s going on here? Is she playing dumb, or did she not get my fuck you letter? Well, in hopes of keeping her at a distance till we can split, I sent her a letter saying that I just needed time and would contact her once we moved, but as you know, I’ll do no such thing.

The last 3 days we spent painting the house. Tom was sandblasting the pool steps, too. It’s got a way to go but is moving along sure enough. He packed some more in the back room and took the shelves down that were bracketed to one wall.

We decided to celebrate our anniversary on his birthday. We’ll go to Red Lobster that day, and to Wal-Mart to pick each other up some cheap little $10 gift. We don’t want to be spending any money right now what with the move coming up, and you know how we are - just being together, happy and healthy, is what matters most.

OK, freeloader update - the nightmare began just after I last wrote last Saturday morning. The only thing they haven’t taken from me yet is my sleep. And they also haven’t gotten that dog yet or blasted in and out with car stereos, but they certainly took my peace away from me last Saturday. That’s the only credit I can give these sick, sorry, motherfuckers I’d like to kill so bad. God, I am so sick of blacks, Mexicans, Mormons, and assholes!!!! Someone’s gotta set these fuckers straight. They’ve got to be taught that having a subsidized house is not a ticket to making a scene for the whole neighborhood.

Saturday was like having the blacks and Mormons all over again all rolled into one. The ironic part of it was that this wild party followed the party the blacks had back in June of ‘96 to a T, with the exception of the car stereos. The similarity in it was almost scary, but that’s what you get when you got blacks or Mexicans on your shoulders. I never hated them as much as I do now. They are the rudest, hateful, mean, selfish, subhuman species I’ve ever known, and God should be ashamed of himself for creating such fucking assholes! What did I ever do to these assholes for God to sic them on me as he has?!

The party was also on a Saturday, it also was in June (the 8th rather than the 12th), they too, had a zillion cars over there, they partied for 12 hours, they barbecued, they played music from their house, and a ton of adult and kid’s voices could be heard carrying on throughout the whole ordeal. Like I said, the party was almost identical to the blacks.

Just when I was thinking that these people just might be OK after all, what with God knowing we’re moving soon, I found out the hard way how wrong I was, and boy was it hard to restrain myself. I wanted to let them have it soooooo bad with no regard to Tom’s reminding me that no human being can beat up 16 people. I was too mad to care. Yeah, I probably would’ve gotten my ass kicked, but it would’ve been worth it. These freeloaders don’t know just how lucky they are, though. It’s only because it’s temporary (besides Tom’s wanting to always do things the legal way) but had we no plans to move, you bet I’d lose it on them! I’m so sick of these fucking freeloaders partying at our expense. We pay for them to sit on their asses all day and they treat us like shit in return for it. When is this country gonna wake the fuck up and change its totally unfair laws?! These scum suckers have got to go. We can’t keep supporting them for 3 or more years at a time and have them carry on in society the way they do. No wonder there are so many racists! Well, the hatred they get is exactly what they ask for. They get what they deserve when they encounter racism. If they learned how to carry on like respectful, productive, normal, non-selfish, non-destructive, non-lazy human beings, then maybe people would see them in a different light. Meanwhile, you carry on like a fucking selfish asshole, desperate for attention, no one’s going to like you or give a damn. From here on out, I don’t care if they see me spying on them, I don’t care if they hear me singing at night, I don’t care what they think about the complaints the city’s gonna receive on them, but I’ll tell you one thing right now and this is a fact, not a threat - if any of these assholes come to my door, the reaction won’t be just verbal like it was with that black bitch. There’ll be no words coming out of my mouth and I don’t care if there are 50 of them.

There’s a chance they may get complained about by others, too. That guy who asked Tom what the story was with them was talking to one of the people who attended the party, and he might be lodging a complaint. We think he was trying to weed out any info he could from the guy. Also, their rowdiness set off someone’s house alarm in back somewhere. The reason we’re gonna wait till next week to send off our letter is so that the city doesn’t think we mistook their noise for moving-in noise. By then these losers will have been here 3 weeks. Also, Tom wants to wait till we get closer to moving, cuz he thinks that they’ll react just the opposite of the blacks. He thinks it’ll provoke them into being louder, and that they’re “blatantly illegal.” They go to extremes and push it to the limit till they can’t get away with their shit anymore, then they go elsewhere and start all over again. They don’t mind getting evicted, either. Yeah, but the city’s not gonna just keep moving them around. If they get evicted enough times, then they’re on their own, and if they’re too lazy to work, what are they gonna do? Guess they’ll have to deal drugs, won’t they? That’s probably why so many Mexicans and blacks deal in the first place. It’s easier than working. They’re just so anti-work. “Blatantly fucked” is what they are, and no matter when we move, or what they do, they’re gonna get theirs and I’m gonna see to it. No matter what happens from here on out, and regardless of the fact that they have been much quieter, the city and the mayor’s gonna be hearing from us. Someone’s gotta teach these assholes that they can’t keep up with the same old cycle of shit and that their avenues will run out on them.

Anyway, from the looks of it, Saturday was a special occasion. We thought one of the millions of kids was having a birthday party, but it may’ve been more like a housewarming party, cuz I thought I saw someone carrying a gift as they arrived, and Tom saw a box for a blender in the dumpster. I thought housewarming parties were supposed to be for those who owned houses, not rented.

At 10:00, the music began. Not from cars, but from inside the house. It didn’t have the bass that rap music has, and with no fans, you could only hear it in the music room, and faintly in the bedroom. That was enough for me, though, so I went out front just as half a dozen adults and half a dozen kids were pulled up in two cars and told them to turn the music down.

A woman said, “We don’t have any music.”

I mentioned the music coming from the house, and she said she’d tell them. Believe it or not, the music did get softer. I could still hear it in the music room, but it did actually get softer. But not right away. No, these rebellious little fucks, that are a total, total carbon copy of the phony black cock, took their sweet time in lowering it. Nothing could be heard at all over fans, the music was never close to being loud enough to wake me up, and neither was anything else they did, but we both heard enough. The illegality of it and knowing that it’s our tax dollars that lets them carry on this way is what really burned me up. And how dare God give people like this any kids let alone so many! I don’t want a kid, and he did the right thing by not allowing me one, but I swear, he wants kids to go to the fuck-ups of this world. That was obvious a long time ago, and I try not to let things that I can never change get to me, but it’s hard at times. I’d have gone after them for damn sure if I knew we weren’t moving, and I’d have been way more stressed out and tight-chested. I’d have slept like shit too, always waking up, but I slept OK. Not going to sleep till the party was breaking up helped, too. In fact, I went to sleep at the exact same time I did the night of the freeloader’s big bash.

I thought about opening the music room window and giving them a sample of my music, but as Tom said, they wouldn’t even think twice about it, cuz it’s so much a part of their lives and everyday living.

When I asked Tom what our compensation would be for the new house, since God puts strings attached to everything he lets me have and seemingly with him too, he said this is our compensation. I hope he’s right!

It just couldn’t get dark fast enough, but not even that stopped them from hanging outside yelling and screaming. I can’t believe our yard wasn’t littered like hell. They sat on their cars and were everywhere! In back, in front, in the carport, in the driveway. The house was infested with adults and kids. I knew the heat wouldn’t keep them inside, although conveniently, God’s been keeping things pretty mild around here weather-wise. I kept wishing it was December, cuz I’d think that any normal human being wouldn’t want to be out on a cold winter evening, but these people are anything but normal, and not even human as far as I’m concerned.

Let’s see…besides the 5-hour concert, there were at least a dozen cars, and of course, they kept coming and going. They’re all so fucking fat over there that they probably had to keep going to the store for hot dogs and shit like that (they were barbecuing), among lines of coke, no doubt.

For cars - there was the ranchero, the gold one, the darker gold one, some dark green one, the furniture truck, the blue pickup, a silver pickup, an older white car, a new white car, a red and white van, and more.

The voices were non-stop for 12 hours, and I almost screamed shut up out back by the wall just to make me feel better. However, I knew that if Tom heard me, he’d be paranoid that Iran’s army would come hunt us down and kill us for it.

This is really gonna hurt us trying to sell this place. These people fuck those up who just want to live their lives in peace in so many ways. No one wants to move into a Mexican neighborhood with their loud, overcrowded, selfish, rude lifestyle. I just hope God sends us someone who doesn’t mind the noise, but I know better than to ask him for any favors.

Yesterday, I heard horn-honking, a woman saying, “Fucking son of a bitch,” and the kids’ screams that would come in intermittent bouts. Like I said, it was blacks and Mormons all over again. The blue pickup was over there for a while yesterday. Just like with the bitch, they can’t go a day in their lives without some car showing up there. The fat broad in the ranchero was the visitor of today, but today’s been amazingly quiet. Today they’re pretty much back to being how they were up till Saturday. Not even the kids are out for their evening stroll in the street.

My neighbor at the Vista, Mary B, wasn’t kidding when she said that where there’s 1 there are 50 of these things. There had to have been a total of 50 people, counting adults and kids.

TUESDAY, JUNE 15, 1999 Half a decade married! It’s been a great half a decade, that’s for sure. Despite his being a disorganized slob and not very good in bed, I couldn’t be more blessed.

He picked up some primer today for the wall art. I knew we’d have trouble covering most of the Goddamn wall art I wish to hell I never did. He picked up a couple of gallons of it and I hope it works. He’s gonna put a coat of it on the wall art tomorrow.

I’ve seen the people that own the house across the street over there, and I saw a jeep pull in there last night. All it did was pull in, sit for a few minutes, then leave. Right now it appears empty, but I’m sure that soon enough the new batch of kids will arrive. Maybe, though, the owners will be pickier with whom they rent this time around. I know we’re not gonna be here much longer, but I don’t want a dog barking non-stop from right across there!

Again, from what I could see, it was lights out next door at 8:00. Why so early? Well, not all of them were early on hitting the sack. Some kid was dropped off at 1:30 AM in two cars. Why it took two cars to drop off this boy of 18-21 who’s definitely not supposed to be there, beats me.

I typed a brief yet perfect little get-the-fuck-out-lazies!/I’m-gonna-report-you-to-the-city letter that I was gonna claim was from that guy we saw talking to them that also talked to Tom, and tape it to the back of their van at 3 AM last night, but I chickened out. Not because I feared what they’d do if they saw me, but because it’d be just my shit luck that they’d come to this door inquiring about it and maybe asking if we knew this man when Tom was home and awake. Naturally, all we’d have to do is deny knowing a damn thing about it, but the paranoia it’d bring upon Tom may very well kill him. So, instead of typing it to ‘Resident’ at their address with no return address, I handwrote a bogus name, put the return address as being across the street and a few houses down, and then in the lower-left corner of the envelope, I wrote: $10 Wal-Mart certificate enclosed. This way, just in case they would’ve thrown the envelope away seeing that it wasn’t addressed to them, they should at least want that certificate.

I can’t believe the mailman hasn’t given me a piece of their mail yet! Most of the mail we get that isn’t ours, although it improved after the 10th complaint, is to N. 21 Dr.

Anyway, the Mexicans will be getting 3 envelopes from me. I decided they should read up on their party review, after all.

Tom sees I was right - no one next door works. He suggested that the guy with the van could be on disability, but admits that it’d be unlikely for a couple to be on disability together. I don’t think they are. I think she’s on welfare and that he’s just freeloading off of her and that he got that van illegally.

Later…

Got an anniversary card from Kim. That was nice of her to remember, unlike someone who’s supposed to be my best friend. That is unless he calls later. I wouldn’t be surprised if he did call later, only I doubt he’ll even acknowledge our anniversary. A part of that could be his jealousy, though, and not just his pot brain with its dead memory cells and his being wrapped up in his own self. A friend shouldn’t have to get another friend a gift, or even send a card on birthdays and anniversaries, but a simple, quick phone call would be nice. A simple “happy anniversary.” But you know how it is, you can’t make people care about things they just don’t care about.

Guess I didn’t re-offend him by sending him the last letter I sent him clarifying what I meant by his jumping from subject to subject. Personally, I wouldn’t have cared if I did. I have better things to do than smooth over any ruffled feathers Andy might have and I’m just not in the mood to smooth over his poor little hurt feelings right now if he’s got any.

Later…

The freeloaders look like they may be getting their yard done now, although I don’t hear anything. There’s an old beat-up truck with a cage-like back that’s parked on the street in front of their house. I was wondering when they were gonna stop watering and start cutting that grass. Could just be one of the many assholes that visit them, though.

I hope it’s as hot as they say it’s going to be this weekend, although I’m sure they’ll still be outside acting like wild little assholes, blaring music from their house. At least half a dozen cars will have to visit, too. Everybody’s always gotta go next door. Next door just can’t go to them. If it’s not as rowdy as last Saturday, then it’ll be like Sunday was. Sunday was in between Saturday’s nightmare and yesterday’s and today’s peace. In fact, if they were like they have been today and yesterday every day that we’re still here, we’d have it made, but that’s just not gonna happen. They said it was supposed to be 102º the day they partied, but Tom said it couldn’t have even hit 100º. They say this weekend’s to be 105º. A little hotter, if not much, but like I said, still won’t keep them from ruling the outdoors.

WEDNESDAY, JUNE 16, 1999 God, the constant biting gets frustrating! Every day I bite myself or get pinched by these braces, and I’m so sick of it! I had planned to quit the Tic-Tacs and just chew gum after the braces come off, but I don’t know. Not if that means I’ll be biting the fuck out of myself. The more I chew something, the more I get bit up. It not only doesn’t tickle, but the area that gets bit swells up and makes it harder to chew around.

Tom got primer, and as my vibes said, it doesn’t seem to really help a lot. It looks like we’re gonna have to spray paint since that puts a lot more paint on. If that doesn’t work, I guess we’ll have to either go with a darker color or wallpaper. Why the fuck did I ever have to do this wall art?!

The assholes next door have been home for the most part, as usual, sitting on their asses. The van’s on one of its many trips out right now, though.

God, do I dread this weekend!

I’m reconsidering the exercise machine once again. Maybe I should get it and just build. That doesn’t take numerous hours a day like shaping/toning does. I’ll just have too much muscle rather than too much fat, but I think that if most of us had to choose which one we had an excess of, it’d be the muscle.

As I was doing some printing yesterday, I noticed that the second to last call made by Tammy was on the 5th. Well, of course. The day before Doe’s birthday. She was calling to pressure me into calling Doe on her birthday. The last call still has me baffled, but my guess is that rather than deal with acknowledging my letter and going off on me about it like she probably intended to do that time she tried calling twice, she decided she’d play dumb with the hopes that things would carry on as usual so she wouldn’t have to deal with it.

Later…

I made the mistake of calling Tammy back, who still insists on calling. I figured I could hold her off and keep her at arm’s length at least till we moved, but from here on out, if she calls again, I’m ignoring her just like with the others for damn sure. There’s nothing anyone can do to ever get me to talk to her again, any more than with the others. I’ve had it for good with anyone named O or G, and that includes Lisa. I hate to give her up, but I have no choice and again, sometimes you have to give up the good in order to give up the bad. Reuniting with her when she’s an adult and on her own would only open up an old can of worms, bringing the past and its people with it, to haunt me all over again. I’m haunted enough as it is. For the rest of my life, I’ll have to deal with thoughts and memories of these people popping into my head at any given time of the day and tormenting me, and this is hard enough to live with.

She called swearing that she wasn’t dumping me and that she wasn’t trying to pressure me into doing anything I didn’t want to do (could’ve fooled me!). All she wanted to do was talk about her feelings. She said she doesn’t give a fuck about Ma, but that she still has feelings for Dad. Well, that’s between her and him, as it is, but I understand we can’t help our feelings. Then she started to tell me something about his carotid artery, making his throat and vocal muscles paralyzed. She said he can talk, but it’s very hard for him and that he’s hard to understand (oh, so they called me a few weeks ago so I could feel sorry for them, huh? They figured they’d use a little pity trip as a way of snaring back into their sick little web of abuse and going through the same old sick cycle). This is when I came out and told her that due to her hyping things up in the past, I had no way of believing or knowing just how ill someone really was when the report was coming from her. She told everyone she was dying when she lived in Texas. She blamed that one on having no self-esteem. Well, I was no angel myself, and I had no self-esteem for a while there either, but I didn’t go around telling people I was dying.

The fact that I felt no emotion whatsoever over Art’s condition, tells me all the more how badly he and his associates have hurt me time and time again. It may take years, but you can only fuck with your kids so many times before they’ll be gone forever. I just thank God he wouldn’t allow me kids so that this cycle could be broken, cuz it won’t break with Tammy. Larry’s nothing like Dureen and Art was, fortunately, but that’s only when the whoring wimp’s home.

Anyway, our conversation ended with her asking for examples of how she’s hyped things up. After the dying in Texas incident, I told her I didn’t buy Bill’s so-called cancer for a minute, and this is when she screamed oh, fuck off and hung up. Well, Tammy, that’s exactly what I’ll do. In fact, I’ll make damn sure to fuck off for the rest of your life. I promise. You asked for it, you got it. Meanwhile, you’ll have to talk to someone else about your feelings. I don’t need any more shit from these people and 33 years of it is more than enough.

I watched Tom’s father struggle with cancer until he died. I saw what it did to him. Meanwhile, Bill’s not only alive, but his health is just wonderful. According to what Tom and I read about lymphoma online, he should be long dead, not that I wish he weren’t.

The very beginning of our little chat started out with her not knowing we were seriously moving (not a word about our anniversary). Oh yeah, we’re damn serious. We just can’t get the fuck out of here fast enough! With our luck, we really will be here till September or even October. Even 7-8 more weeks seems like a year.

Later…

I added Tammy to my mailing list, so that’s Tammy, Larry, the folks, the bitch, the freeloaders, the collie people, and Andy that’ll be hearing from me one last time when we move. 1 manila envelope to Tammy, 1 to Larry, 1 to the folks, 1 to Andy, and 2 to the bitch. 3 regular envelopes to the Mexicans and 1 to the collie people. A total of 10 pieces. I also inserted a couple of sheets of old journal shit in the envelopes I had printed pictures on the backs of, so Bob will get a total of 6 and Paula will get 15. I’ll send them out weekly.

Our freeloaders are doing a different routine tonight. Instead of lights out by 8:00 with the blinds drawn and the van there for the night, their blinds are open, I can see a light down the hall that may be coming from one of the bedrooms (there are 2 in front/1 in back), and the van is nowhere in sight. Maybe the late-night scream I gave them has them a little on guard.

I’m surprised I haven’t seen the little kids outside playing in the late afternoons lately. Maybe they do get a little sensitive to temps over 100º.

THURSDAY, JUNE 17, 1999 I haven’t heard from Andy since Monday, if I’m remembering correctly. He knows. He knows we’re basically finished. Who knows why he hasn’t called for sure; perhaps he’s waiting for the weekend, but I won’t call him till I hear from him. I want to see if I’m right or not about his not mentioning a damn thing about our anniversary before I go reminding him how it’s just as easy to be offended by him. I mean, he says he’s my “best friend” and he doesn’t even call and wish us a happy anniversary? Please! Some “best” friend. It’s not just about his being jealous, it’s about his being the typical selfish person Andy is famous for being.

It was pretty funny the other day how I reached to open a kitchen cabinet and ended up with half a handle in my hand (the door stayed closed). The middle chunk of the handle broke apart and let go, so we’ve got to replace that handle.

As I knew would be the case, we’re still having a hell of a time covering this fucking wall art I wish to hell I never did, even with the primer, but I got an idea. Tom said he didn’t think of it, which surprised me. I figured that if I thought of it, he must’ve too, but nope. Anyway, I thought we ought to take that sanding block, which only strips what’s on a wall and not the wall itself, and maybe that way we can get through the stubborn parts. The reds, oranges, blues, browns, blacks, and darker colors, just won’t budge. Tom isn’t sure this will work but is definitely willing to give it a try. I’m hoping to hell it will work without adding another week to our sentence here, but with our luck, something or another will keep us here into September, although it doesn’t look that way right now. But we need to get through this painting! If we could just get the inside painted, and the outside trim painted, we’re virtually home-free and ready to sell. Well, there are worse places to be than here on N. 21 Ave.

There was an ad in the Penny Saver with a good deal on a house on a 3.3-acre parcel of land with irrigation and all that, that Tom intends to call about on Monday. He said he was going to wait till Monday cuz he was tired of not being called back. Well, something just hit me - maybe he’s not being called back for a reason. Remember how God had people missing phone calls by seconds on other apartments for me in Connecticut? Well, of course, God knew it was my time to come out here. Well, maybe, just maybe, God is on our side about getting the model we want.

The rental’s still empty, and I wish God would keep it that way while we’re still here, but as I write this, I’m sure God’s up there looking down at me saying, keep dreaming!

The only thing I’ve seen from next door this week is a cock that lives there that came out at 7 PM and mowed. I guess they do have a mower. The weird part was that only 1 kid was out there, too. Not 4 or more. It was about 3 years old, playing in the driveway, stark naked except for its underwear.

Also, the van was there last night. I either just didn’t see it when I wrote my last report, or it was out. They didn’t hit the sack over there till around 12:30.

Tonight, the living room window blind that’s deeper in the carport is drawn shut. The other’s open and I can see straight through to the inside of their front door. They have shelves with God only knows what by that window. Some time I’ll take the binoculars and see if I can see what.

Tom says that if the weekend’s like today, no one will be hanging outdoors. He said it’s like we’ve skipped summer and went straight into the monsoons which aren’t supposed to be till August. It’s very humid out and definitely hotter than last Saturday. We’ll see, but I still say that even if there’s no music, not a ton of cars, no adults out, the kids will be. They’ll be outside screaming all day. There’ll be some sort of ruckus, and I’m not even gonna wait for them to act up. As soon as I get up, on goes the stereo. I may sleep through most of their wild times, though (God help them if they wake me up!). I’m trying to roll my schedule over for Melanie’s appointment on Monday.

Here’s something astounding - I don’t think they had company yesterday or today. From what I could see and remember, there wasn’t any other vehicle but the van.

Another thing that’s sort of surprising is that I haven’t seen the city come out. You’d think that by now, with all these fucking party animals, there’d be something to fix. They should go out and inspect a week or two after someone’s moved into their houses to make sure they’re sticking to the rules, but maybe they just don’t give a damn. They’re just too damn trusting and too damn naïve. Mexicans and blacks live to break rules, and I still can’t believe there’s no dog over there yet.

What I don’t get is why these freeloaders seem to act like they work. From what I’ve seen so far, they seem to have the bulk of their company and shit going on during weekends, just like with the blacks. Maybe their cronies actually work.

Later…

Typical, typical Mexican, I swear! This is just like on Oswego Street in “Puerto Rico.” The air cleaner’s on, so naturally, I thought that at this hour, all would be quiet, but boy was I wrong. I went out back to see if I could coax the cat in to eat and got an earful of screams from the kids next door. They’re out barbecuing or something since I could smell food. Meanwhile, the backyard’s infested with screaming kids and I could hear adults, too. I screamed and got a scream from one of their many mistakes in return, along with laughter like it was some big fucking joke to them. What are these freeloaders gonna do - spend hours outdoors at night since it’s too hot and humid during the day? Thanks, God. Thanks a real fucking lot! In fact, they’re probably sleeping in late, just so they can be out at night. Anything to get attention and stand out like a sore fucking thumb. Fucking motherfucking freeloaders, I HATE them!

I can’t wait to see the letter to the city Tom’s gonna write. Why the fuck did that bitch have to move?! Even months after she’s gone she’s still pissing me the fuck off!

Even if these people were normal and quiet, I’d still be pissed at having to pay my tax dollars to these people just so they can sit around all day. Why can’t they get up off their lazy asses and work and support their own fucking needs?! Let them take care of their own damn kids!

Later…

Just went outside to do another “sound check.” I didn’t hear any kids this time. Just an adult female laughing. Yeah, sit on your fat ass and laugh at our expense bitch, but enjoy it while it lasts, you mother-fucking cunt, cuz I’m gonna set you straight before too long!

Later…

Next door is still going strong. What? Is it really a Saturday afternoon out there right now? I caught one of them peering over the wall, but couldn’t tell if it was an adult or not. It was too dark. I thought I heard what could’ve been a chair moving right after it saw that I saw it, suggesting it was a kid that climbed up to peer over, then ducked and jumped down when it saw me. Well, adults or kids, they can peer over all they want. If I catch any of them in the yard, though, they’ll learn in seconds what a grave mistake that was and that they picked the wrong yard. We better not have anything of value out in the yard or they’ll steal it for sure. They may even steal something that isn’t of value just to be stealing. These people don’t have brains enough to think their crimes through. They act on impulse and will risk their lives just for the sake of spontaneously stealing a fucking gum wrapper.

FRIDAY, JUNE 18, 1999 OK, now that I’ve had time to calm down somewhat, I’ll update the latest batch of shit I’ve had to deal with.

First, though, next door seemed to have taken their antics indoors at about 11:30, and the van made its last trip in and out at around that time, too. At my last 1 AM check, I could see the glow of a TV coming from over there. See, I really think they’ve got themselves scheduled by the weather. I knew there was no way they’d stay inside just because it was hotter and more humid. They’ve got to get the neighborhood’s attention. Apparently, they’re sleeping in later and going out when it’s cooler. They might be sleeping till late afternoon.

Well, we’ll be taking care of the freeloaders, but meanwhile, enough of them and onto other things.

One of my brackets popped off. At first I thought it was gonna be a big deal and something I couldn’t live with till Monday that’d have to be dealt with like now. However, I waxed it and it’s holding it in place well enough till I can get in to see Mel Monday. Tom says he’s still gonna try to be here when they call tomorrow, tell them what the scoop is, and see what they recommend. I think it’ll hold till Monday with the wax, and fortunately, it’s the second tooth from the back, so I can eat on the other side of my mouth. If it were a front incisor, rather than a back molar, I’d have to have only liquid foods, not that that’d kill me to do if I had to.

Later…

I checked just before 2 AM and the lights are out. Maybe they are up during the day, but just don’t go outside. Or maybe I don’t hear them if they’re out. I didn’t know they were out till I went to check on Shiny. With the fan on, I couldn’t hear them. With the AC running and not the cooler, I couldn’t smell their food. As Tom suggested, maybe I ought to just stay inside and fan them out. That way, I won’t have to know they exist and burn with rage and want to go kill them.

My idea to sand the wall art was a bust. Tom’s new plan is to go around and paint the walls and ceiling completely. No more playing games, he says. Then, he’s gonna spray paint the wall art. He says that’ll cover it cuz you can get more on that way. I hope so! He says we’re still on for early August. I really, really hope so!!!

Later…

Another day with the freeloaders to deal with.

I didn’t get up till 8:00, their peak time these days. Tom said he hadn’t heard anything since being home at around 9 AM. That kind of didn’t surprise me. They didn’t start up till 10:00. It’s only just after 10:30 now, and I’m sure they’ll be up doing God knows what till around 1:30.

At 10:00, a white car I’ve never seen before came blasting in. It sat in the driveway for a couple of minutes to let the neighborhood know it had arrived, and by the time I got out there and screamed to keep it down, I didn’t want to know they exist, and that I was to have them evicted, the cock was walking towards the house. It glanced at me for a second without a word, then kept on walking.

A few minutes later, I thought it was leaving, but it obviously came out to test/bait me, along with 3-4 of the Mexicans that live there, then they deserted the car which is still out there. The weird thing about it was that they only based me out for barely half a minute. Just as I was on my way out there to really raise some hell of my own, the music stopped. The people stayed, though. I couldn’t make out a word they were saying, but I can guess what must’ve been said. Something like, “Go ahead. Have us evicted. We don’t care.” Or “No one can get us evicted. We can do anything we want and get away with it, too.” Yeah, well if this is what they think, they’re gonna learn the hard way how wrong they are.

I was surprised to see the van leave as early as 6 AM yesterday, just 6 hours after its last trip. Just when do these people sleep?

Anyway, I haven’t heard anyone hanging out back yet, but I’m sure I’ll know it when this white car leaves.

All I know is that I’m being severely compensated for the two months that house was empty, just like I knew I would. Something’s really out to get me good lately, and I don’t know why.

My stereo conked out again on me yesterday, but thankfully, Tom fixed it. God’s really on a let’s-get-Jodi spree now. So let me guess - he’s gonna have that white car return tomorrow earlier so it can wake me up, right? But why?! Why is God letting this happen?! What did I ever do to these people? And the last people? And the last? I thought people were supposed to only have people harassing them who did something to deserve it first. Well, that’s the way it should be, but it’s obviously not. People just don’t know when to give up, either. They pick and pick and pick. They just don’t know when to quit provoking.

I’d still like to know what I ever did to these people. Why does God insist on throwing these people on me like this? I don’t even know these people. Why can’t God allow me to be left alone? And just what will he have done to me for moving away from these people he seems so desperate to sic upon me?

I think Tom’s right - these blatant fucks are blatantly illegal, and now that they know they have enemies (which they obviously sought out as an excuse to badger people all the more), they’re gonna really live it up at our expense, and I’m sure they’ll insist that this white car visit more often now, too. How I’m gonna keep from killing these people, beats me. I’m so pissed right now and my adrenaline is so pumped up that I could probably take on a champion boxer. Okay, so not literally but these people just don’t care and they just don’t get it. They really are extremists.

Later…

These people are just as weird as the renters and the blacks, only ten times more fucked.

See, it’s in the middle of the day for these people. It’ll be a few more hours before things die down around here. The Ranchero decided to make a visit. The white car and the van backed out of the driveway. The van took off somewhere. After a few minutes of shouting, the white car pulled into the driveway. The Ranchero stayed on the street. Both the white car and the Ranchero have bassy stereos, so which one was playing music, which was shockingly sort of soft, I can’t say for sure, but I’ll bet it was the white car. The Ranchero, also shockingly, was only here for a few minutes (but will probably be back). I heard a shitload of voices hollering at each other.

Later…

I was right. The Ranchero’s back.

Later…

It used to be that these freeloaders wouldn’t slam doors and hang out in cars like the blacks did, but not anymore. There are at least two adults who went to hang out in the Ranchero, play a little bass, and so did their kids. Kids running around at nearly midnight in nothing but diapers! It’s sick! Fucking sick!

I hope one of their kids gets killed. Not only would the kid be better off dead, but maybe that’s what it’d take to teach them a lesson, although I doubt it. As long as there are Mexicans and blacks in this world, there’ll be trouble. If God would erase the Mexican and black population completely, he’d solve half our problems. I’m not saying there isn’t a lot of white trash out there, but how many good Mexicans and blacks do you know? I’ve met quite a few of these people and I can count the good ones on just one hand.

I saw the guy that talked to us and them walking around the other day. Tom was right when he said he walks around the neighborhood a lot.

Which of the 3 is the case here so far? 1. No one complained to the city. 2. Someone complained and the city didn’t talk to them. 3. Someone complained, the city talked to them, and true to what Tom said would be the case, they just don’t give a damn. I have a feeling it’s the first one that’s the case. Why must everything be up to us and dumped on our shoulders, huh?

Later…

The white car just left. Thank God! And please God, don’t let it come back in 10 minutes! I’m sure it’ll be back tomorrow, as it is. When the car started up, the music was a little loud, but get this - after just 3 beats, it turned it off. It turned it off! I couldn’t believe it! The Ranchero’s still here and the van’s still out unless it slipped in without my noticing it. I can’t believe that God doesn’t have this van, the vehicle that lives here, bass in and out 20 times a day. I wonder if it’ll start, though. That’d surely make things twice as bad if not more. If the Ranchero and the white car bang in and out regularly, though, that’ll make up for the lack of bass coming from the van.

Later…

Oh, God! I should’ve known better. The white car’s back. It came in with soft music. Why God? Why me?! What did I ever do to these assholes to deserve this?! There’s no doubt in my mind, though, that all these cars’ trips in and out are to get drugs. All that keeps going through my head over and over again is - bitch, why’d you have to move!

SATURDAY, JUNE 19, 1999 The van’s been gone an hour and a half. This is the longest it’s stayed out this late that I know of. What if they went to Mexico or somewhere and are having the people with the Ranchero and white car babysit their many mistakes? That’d be all I’d need! Unless they’re not back by 2:00, I’ll assume the van will be returning, then the white car and the Ranchero can bass out. They don’t mind waking up the kids. They don’t just shit on others. They shit on each other, too.

Why has God been so obsessed with using kids and music against me like he has since 1992? Why?! The kids are easier to deal with than the bass, and people attached to me that live directly next to or above me like in the NHA and the apartments I had here. But still, I just don’t get it. God’s obviously not using the kids to show me that he has that planned for me, too. I’ve known all my life I was destined to be childless, like it or not, and 6 years of unprotected sex with a virtually cumless dick has proved that. Maybe God just felt that knowing I wasn’t going to have kids, he felt it wasn’t fair that I live my whole life without a taste of what it’s like to have them close by. Well, believe me, God, I know what it’s like!

Good. The van’s back. Now can we just pack it in for the night and be done with all this shit till tomorrow night so I can have some peace and concentrate on things I want to do?

Anyway, the only reason I can think of as to why God would sic the music on me is due to people I’ve bugged with my stereo, like my old neighbors on Oswego Street and Woodside Terrace (the first time I lived there). If this is the case, once again, it just goes to show how I have to get what I gave many times over. If I make one prank phone call, I get four. Get it? There’s no way in hell anyone could’ve been as bothered by my music as I’ve been by other people’s music. No way. Not even close. There’s no comparison between the stereos I had back in the mid to late 80s, and these bassy car stereos and that band that used to play across the street. If you played the stereo I had back then full blast, it still couldn’t come close to the volume of one of these car stereos playing softly.

It’s almost 1 AM. Makes me wonder if the white car and the Ranchero, or at least one of them, will be staying overnight. They may be too doped up to leave, but if that white car wants out, the van’s gonna have to move first.

Tom was right about Mexican music being less bassy. I heard plenty of bass, don’t get me wrong, but I heard more drums than bass. It doesn’t matter, though. Drums on these stereos are just like bass - they both sound like someone’s hammering your walls. I’m sleeping with my stereo on for damn sure. I know they’re gonna wake me up. It seems only inevitable. It also seems only logical that that’d be just what the Gods would order, too.

Later…

I can’t see for sure, but it looks like the Ranchero left.

It’s a damn shame these sick fucks have so many laws on their side. These fuckeroos are next to impossible to evict, and even if we could have them out of here tomorrow - they’ll just turn around and have people move in that are just like these assholes and the last ones, too. It’s a widespread, endless cycle. And of course, their millions of kids grow up to be just as fucked up, if they stay alive and out of jail.

Tom caught Melanie’s call to remind me of our Monday appointment and told her the scoop. She said it’s a common thing, go ahead and keep it waxed in place, and she’ll glue it back Monday.

Later…

The van left again, but the white car is still there. Just where the fuck do these people need to go 50 times a day and is the white car staying overnight or what?

I brought up the idea to Tom (in a phone msg) of us exploring and experimenting with sex stimulants when we move, figuring that if we use lubricants, why not try stimulants, too? I have a feeling, though, that this stuck-in-a-rut kind of guy here won’t want to bother, but OK. I have vibrators to spice things up. I still say that the vibrators do the trick for me better than he can, anyway. They’re more reliable. They don’t work, they don’t sleep, they’re always on my schedule available when I want them, and they don’t have a million excuses.

Anyway, all he said in his reply was that he wanted fun when he got up. Says he deserves it and that I owe him that. No prob. I just hope my crotch won’t mind, cuz we skipped last weekend. I wouldn’t be too surprised if he came either, cuz I’m getting close to a period.

He also said that he’s gonna work 8 hours on Saturday, 6 on Sunday, then evaluate where we are and decide the rest of the week from there. I feel like we’ve got a long way to go yet. We haven’t even bought the land yet! If we could just finish this fucking painting and cover this fucking wall art I never thought I’d regret doing so badly!

Later…

The van’s back and the white car’s still here. The front light’s off, though, so that tells me all the more that the white car’s staying overnight. The fact that I’ve never seen this car before worries me. What if one of the adults living over there just got this car and what if it’s here to stay? I saw two people get out of this car, but that doesn’t matter. The passenger could’ve been a friend. These subsided blacks and Mexicans know a whole shitload of people.

Just a few more days and the city and the mayor will be hearing from us. But is Tom right for sure? Will it worsen things? Do they really not mind getting evicted? Or will it have the same effect on them as on the blacks? I tend to agree with Tom. Not just for the reasons he does, but because I’ve learned that just because something works once, doesn’t mean it will again. In fact, it’s usually just the opposite. What brought good results once tends to bring negative results the second time around. Or at least with the second batch of assholes. Well, it took two letters for the blacks to get it, so maybe after our 10th letter, the fucks will either shut up or move out.

Later…

No, he won’t be cumming. He’s gone to “do a duty” before we get together, so that tells me something right there. It’s just a gut feeling, know what I mean? He took the little computer in to play Hearts, he says, but I still wouldn’t be surprised if he got relief out of the way first, but again, it’s best that he does. Despite what’s destined, a man shouldn’t cum in a woman that doesn’t want kids if they’re not gonna use birth control.

SUNDAY, JUNE 20, 1999 How do the kids sleep throughout all this loud babbling? Somehow, I doubt these wonderful role models give a shit.

Anyway, they’ve been out back gabbing away since I got up at 10:30. Makes me wonder if they could ever run out of things to say to each other. They just never seem to come up for air. The mouths go on and on and on, and bitch! I hate you for moving! I never thought that I’d be faced with having to worry about next door again like this. Especially after midnight! If it weren’t for us moving, I’d be out back screaming for them to shut up, even though I know it wouldn’t do me any good. Besides, I did say I’d fan out anything that wasn’t bass and that could be fanned out during our remaining weeks left here (unless God sees fit to add more time to our stay here). I really feel bad for the next people in here, cuz knowing how God works, odds are they’ll be nice folks who won’t deserve this shit. Not assholes, or assholes that are just as noisy.

Other than their vocal antics, this is the quietest Saturday yet with them here and that will probably ever be. Tom said there was the expected weekend company, but no music, and only a couple of cars. He didn’t see that white car.

Unbelievably, the van came and went from 10 PM last night to late in the morning. Over 12 hours of coming and going to and from God only knows where. From what we can gather, these fucks are sleeping from around noon-8 PM. I’ve never seen anything like this coming and going. Not even the blacks and the renters combined had these many vehicles and this many trips in and out.

I’m a little disappointed with Tom, cuz I feel like he reneged on our deal. He said if I insisted, he’d send out the city and mayor letters Monday but would prefer to wait till the house went up for sale. But who knows how many more weeks away that is?

I thought I just heard car doors, but I just went into the music room where they can be heard loud and clear and they’re still there. Why are they sitting out gabbing in the dark? Not one light is on over there.

Anyway, Tom thinks that others have complained already. I don’t think so. If they complained about these people, then why didn’t they complain about the blacks? And why isn’t the city doing anything like they did with the blacks?

Tom said that the city won’t do anything cuz of the way they run things. He said the mayor will, cuz mayors know that people write letters to newspapers if the mayor fails to respond to their letters. Well, I disagree, but maybe I’m wrong. I don’t think that just because the mayor’s in real estate and sold David this house that it means he’ll do something about the shit next door. If the city doesn’t do something, no one will. Not unless we the people take action and go over there and shoot all of them dead ourselves.

As I told Tom, I can’t make him do anything he doesn’t want to do, but I don’t think we can rely on other people having complained first, or wait till we put the house up for sale in case we can’t put it up for sale for months. Something’s stalling us and keeping us here by hurling one setback after another at us, as I knew would be the case eventually. It does not want us leaving here, and as far as I can see, if we don’t gain by the letters, can we really lose that much?

Yesterday, we thought we finally found the answer to the wall art not being able to be covered by putting on a thick joint wall compound, but guess what? As soon as it dried, the wall art was visible again. It just won’t fucking go away! And of course, he’s still in denial, saying it will get covered with spray paint, but no it won’t. Only painting the walls black or wallpapering will cover it. At least he got the bathroom vent working.

Yesterday morning I wished to hell I had the camera ready for that fat bitch who mooned me really good. It was barefoot, wearing a short dress as it bent over to grind out a cigarette. It obviously doesn’t believe in underwear either. Got a perfect full view of that fat ass!

I figured out how to program my stereo to play the Heart songs I like best repetitiously while I slept, but that didn’t go over very well. I kept waking up for the first few hours of sleep. I turned it off and slept well from there on out. If I’m gonna ever need music, I’m gonna have to go back to playing Gloria’s instrumental CD. That has a steadier beat, although if music pulls in next door that’s loud enough, nothing short of blasting my stereo will override it.

Later…

This is fucking unbelievable! Totally! It’s 3:00 in the morning and the freeloaders are still out there gabbing. I went out back a few minutes ago and screamed for them to shut up. I knew it wouldn’t work, but it made me feel good just to scream like that. Someone answered, “Hello? Are we really that loud?”

I told them, yeah, they were, and that I’d have them evicted. Then all I could make out through the garble of 3-4 voices was something about how they’re only human, but I didn’t want to hear anymore. I just came inside and threw the headphones on and watched a movie.

I’m telling you, no one complained. No one complained and no one ever will.

Why God?! Why me?! Why is it always next to me?! Any prayers to God for peace around here are going unanswered, as always. He wants this for me. He wants me inflicted with this shit from neighbors.

Later…

Still gabbing away non-stop. Also, I just noticed that the white car’s here behind the van now. I knew it’d be back. I forgot to say that it left quietly yesterday morning at 8:30.

These are obviously “seasonal freeloaders.” If it were December, they’d be gabbing all day and sleeping at night. At least I think they would be. You call this human, though? Normal humans don’t gab outside till 3:30 in the fucking morning, and if there’s anything I do agree with Tom on, it’s that no, they don’t mind getting evicted. If you’re gonna be out gabbing at this hour, you can’t be worried about getting evicted, and if you are stupid enough to be out gabbing at this hour, and someone threatens you with eviction, and you still gab on, then you really don’t mind being evicted.

This is not a good moving sign. Between the freeloaders and the wall art crisis and other setbacks, this is not a good moving sign at all. I really hope Tom will write the letters now and stop assuming too much. I mean, what if we are here till September? Or even later? I’m not putting up with their shit that long. No way!

If the kids are sleeping while they’re up yacking away all night, who watches them during the daytime?

I woke up at 107 pounds, and haven’t had much of an appetite. First time I’ve been this low in ages, but you can thank the freeloaders for it. It’s cuz of the stress from their shit. Whenever the fuck we get out of here, I’m sure I’ll be struggling like hell to keep from going over 110 pounds.

I was eating popcorn when the bracket let go. I doubt the popcorn did it, cuz I’ve been eating it ever since the braces went on and that was over a year ago, but just in case, I’m having more graham crackers and less popcorn. There are fewer calories in a serving of bite-size graham crackers than in a bag of popcorn, although you certainly don’t get as much. Still, it should be filling enough as a snack. If I have two servings a day that is a couple of hundred calories each, a couple of 200-calorie TV dinners, and a banana or two, that should keep me from going over 110 once the stress comes off. No wonder I was so thin back east and when I first got here!

I’m just too stressed out to do much when I’m not writing or listening to music. I can’t concentrate on reading. All I do is sit and stare at the wall sometimes. I keep reminding myself that we will be moving. It may not be soon enough, but it’ll happen. It doesn’t seem to reassure and calm me as much as I’d like.

Later…

And the lovely freeloaders continue to ramble on. How is it that the dogs haven’t been going off all night cuz of these freeloaders?

I wonder if these freeloaders are my present from God for having the hoop removed. Maybe he would’ve been more lenient with me with neighbors if I hadn’t gone against him, so to speak, and had it removed. Like I said, if I don’t take what he gives me, I’m really in for trouble.

Later…

Although somewhat quieter, the freeloaders are still out back. This time, I went out back now that it was getting light. I could smell that they were doing laundry. I thought you couldn’t raise kids if you were like me - no routine, schedule, or structure? Well, there are not just an awful lot of kids over there. There are an awful lot of adults over there, too. Maybe the adults that are up are childless, but I’ve never heard of a childless freeloader. They start breeding practically as soon as they hit puberty, and they don’t stop till menopause.

I wonder - is the white car gonna be here every night? Or just during weekends? Will the freeloaders be out back every night from here on out while we’re still here?

MONDAY, JUNE 21, 1999 Things kind of came to a head around here yesterday, but it may be for the better. It’s too soon to tell, but it just may’ve been a good thing.

At around 5 AM yesterday, when Tom was getting up, they finally shut up next door. I typed the city a letter too, but we agreed to hold off on the mayor’s till the house went up for sale.

As we were going to Jack-n-the-Box at 7:00, I saw a guy walk out from between the houses in the carport, glance at us, then go back towards the backyard.

When we returned, the hood of the van was open, and I was thinking, great. Just great. So now they’re gonna be playing car repair all day like most freeloaders do and who knows what noise that’ll trigger being just a few feet away.

Between 8:00-9:00, the white car banged in and out 3 times. The final time, which was finally loud enough to wake me up, was the final straw. I blew from there. The years of having to deal with neighbor’s shit had taken its toll on me and I snapped. The stupid fucks with the white car backed the car out in the middle of the driveway, then left it sitting there with the bass booming while they went inside the house. So I stormed over there and walked up to their door which was wide open and let them know I was fed up and they had to shut up. At the same time I was turning to walk away, a woman was saying, “Will you please get out of my house” (but I didn’t step foot over their threshold and I reminded her that it wasn’t her house). Once I was back at our door (Tom was outside at this point) and the dudes with the white car came out. Tom was telling them to turn it down but they played deaf and dumb. Then he told me to call the cops, but they were leaving right as the dispatcher answered, so I told her to never mind and I hung up. She called right back and Tom told her the scoop.

Just as he hung up with the dispatcher, the doorbell rang. I opened the door and there stood two fat ladies and a guy. From there on out, I was thoroughly surprised and even impressed with what transpired. I was a little confused, too. The bigger woman, Debra, who looked and sounded white just like the other woman even though Tom thought she looked Hispanic, told me she was trying to buy the house. I guess the city has different programs and that they’re on an extremely different program than the blacks were on. How can a low-income person afford to buy a house? How can jobless people afford to buy a house? And how can 5 adults and at least 4 kids live in that house and still have room to breathe?

Anyway, Deb basically did all the talking. Her husband, who seemed like a very subdued, passive individual and who appears to be Mexican, said nothing. The other lady, whose name I don’t know, only spoke a few scattered sentences.

The 5 of us spoke for about 10 minutes and Deb let us know that my temper wouldn’t get me anywhere, if there was a problem with anything please come to her and not yell over the wall or go off on her guests, and that she knew where our door was, so she’d do the same. We agreed to this, and as I let her know, it was music that concerned me more than voices or anything else.

She said she was a good person and that she wanted to talk like normal human beings. Well, I must give her credit for coming over and talking to us like a civilized adult. She didn’t have to do that. She didn’t have to try to reason with us or compromise. She could’ve come over yelling right back. But she didn’t and I appreciate and admire her for it. She’s to be commended for how she handled the situation, which was far better than how I handled it.

All’s been quiet since I got up at 10:30 (Tom didn’t leave any messages, so I guess that means they were quiet) and the white car hasn’t been back that I know of, but don’t get me wrong. Even though I feel much calmer and have a good feeling about how things will go from here, that doesn’t mean that some sort of shit won’t go down (mainly with the white car or some other vehicle). Maybe they’ll go right back to being just as loud, or even worse of a nightmare, but for now, I’m hopeful that things will be OK till we can move, and I feel much more comfortable having met these people. Now that I know the people and have seen the faces behind the voices, I’m not as stressed out.

Tom and I agreed that from here on out, if there are any more problems, to let him know about it in full detail, then he’ll go talk to them.

From here on out, even though I’m sure I can’t be heard, I’m going to be singing really soft so they can’t say I’m practicing what I preach. Normally, I wouldn’t care, since they’ve been noisy and since most people out here are noisy, but I have to care. They have music more powerful than mine. Music that can take away my sleep. Therefore, as far as they’re concerned (if they stay quiet), they don’t know I exist.

So, we’ll just see what happens from here on out. I’m putting a hold on the city letter for now. I may even forget about sending them any excerpts on them after we move. It’s one thing to call a person a racial slur behind their backs as a way of venting, but it’s totally wrong, as far as I’m concerned, to directly call anyone a racial slur.

Even if things do go well from here on out, I still think they were wrong to be as noisy as they have been, and I still think it was intentional. I think they wanted to get attention and acknowledgment and I don’t condone their antics.

Meanwhile, I never meant to condemn them or anyone else for their lifestyle. The only time I have a problem with someone else’s way of doing things is when it comes through my walls. I don’t sic my noise on others. Therefore, I expect them to keep their noise and music for their ears only, too. I expect others to treat me as I treat them.

TUESDAY, JUNE 22, 1999 Andy left a message about starting a 2-week temp job answering phones during the day for $9 an hour (which he’ll quit or lose by Friday) and in my reply, I told him my feelings about not acknowledging our anniversary. He left a message saying he doesn’t acknowledge anyone’s anniversaries. Only birthdays. He said it was because he didn’t believe in marriage, then he chuckled and said he didn’t know why. I know why. It’s because he’s jealous. I know jealousy when I see it. It’s OK, though, to be jealous. I understand how badly he wishes he could say he’s been with someone for years and has had a great relationship with them. Then he tried to say he wasn’t sure when our anniversary was, but he thought it was June 15th. He knew that. He knew damn well when it was, cuz I mentioned it before the 15th. He can’t even blame his scrambled pot memory on that one, but he didn’t try. Anyway, we acknowledge what we acknowledge and I told him that’s OK (but of course, only I know, despite how much he may suspect it, that this will be our last anniversary where we’re friends).

Later…

Boy, have I been in a lazy mood! I got up at 12:30 last night, but all I wanted to do for the most part was lay around. At 10:00 this morning I ended up conking out till 5:30. I hope this doesn’t mean my schedule is fucked up for Monday. Monday, his birthday, we were gonna go to Red Lobster and look at some land.

Tom called yesterday about some land advertised in the Penny Saver, and we received info on it today. He said there are some promising deals.

Also, ironically enough, a lady left a message saying she sold some property in this area, so, if we’re interested, give her a call. That’s quite a coincidence, although I doubt we’ll be needing her.

It looks like I may’ve forgotten to mention this, but about a week ago, Paula left a message. It came up as private, so she apparently called from a friend’s house. I hope she doesn’t ring someone else’s bill up to call me. It doesn’t look like she’ll be doing that, though. She said she didn’t want a phone anymore, she’ll call me back, and everything’s OK. She hasn’t tried to call back yet, as far as I know. Also, I doubt it was a case of her simply not wanting a phone anymore. Maybe some guys were bothering her, but I think the main reason she lost the phone was due to so many calls to me. Also, she didn’t sound “OK.” She sounded rather down.

Yesterday, I gave Mel (who decided to leave that bracket off) a few pictures of animals I printed out for her, as well as a few of myself at different stages of my life, including one of my hair just past my shoulders back when I was 24.

As I stood up to leave, I wondered - was her big, baggy smock just sticking out? Or was she pregnant? I certainly wasn’t gonna ask and risk offending her and making her wonder if she was suddenly huge-looking and if it was just a case of her smock sticking out. Well, I’ll pay closer attention next time I see her, but it’s awfully hard to picture her pregnant. She just doesn’t look like a mom, nor does she seem like the type to want the hassle. I always pictured her as either never having kids, or not having them till she was in her late 30s.

I decided to forget about singing softly since we did make a deal, after all, to go to our doors if there’s a problem. So, if she can hear me, and if it bothers her, let her come to my door. I highly doubt she can hear me, though, cuz it’s in the house that sound goes easily, not out of the house.

I still haven’t seen the white car since Sunday, and all’s been quiet, but it’s not the weekend yet, either. I know the ranchero and the white car will be banging in and out next weekend, too. At least that white car doesn’t live there like I was beginning to fear was the case. I think it’ll live there on weekends, though.

THURSDAY, JUNE 24, 1999 Andy hasn’t called to tell me he was fired yet, so I guess that means he’s still working. He said the job was a piece of cake and that he has more free time than not while he’s there, so he reads magazines.

Also, he was puking his brains out like he always does the day before he starts a new job. But why? He should be an expert on starting new jobs. He only starts 50 new jobs a year.

Tom was rubbing against me suggestively when I got up. I asked him if he needed a quickie and he said no because it’d be too quick of a quickie and he had to shave. But he had nearly an hour and a half before work. Talk about being inflexible!

Anyway, I feel sexually trapped. This guy just does not want to branch out, explore, experiment, or try anything new when it comes to sex. It’s the same old, same old. It’s starting to get to me, but again, knowing I’m sexually hexed and knowing my bitching about it won’t change anything, I just keep my mouth shut and go along with what he wants in bed as we always have. I mean, there’s no variety. I know what we’ll do step by step whenever we get into bed. There are no surprises anymore. It’s not new and exciting anymore, and I know it’ll really turn him on if I bitch about it (I know it sounds horrible saying this about this otherwise great man, but it’s true. I just know it is), and that God has me hexed sexually no matter what, no matter who it’s with. It doesn’t matter if it’s only him for the rest of my life or a million people. Hexed is hexed. I can’t get him to break his rut of the same old and try something different for a change, and when I can, it’s only once or twice, then it’s right back to the usual. His idea of variety is stopping before we even begin. And every single Goddamn weekend it’s the excuses. 90% of the time, there’s a problem. He can’t just screw and not make excuses for why he has to stop. I know why he has to stop, but I was obviously right when I said he’d never admit to it. Then why not just keep his mouth shut? Why the constant excuses? If he can’t come out and admit his fears and ask that we use birth control, does he have to make excuses instead?

I’ve never enjoyed sex with this guy and I think about quitting, but what kind of guilt trip will he lay on me for it? How guilty will I end up feeling regardless? What will God do to me for it?

Speaking of God and his doing things to me, it’s quite a coincidence that I’ve been bothered, once again, by his taking away my right as a woman to choose, ever since the showdown with next door this weekend. See? If I don’t take what he dishes out to me, he inflicts some kind of pain or punishment upon me for it. There’s just no fighting what God’s got on the menu for me. I fear that if I go against God by throwing away the sex, he’ll do something to me emotionally for it.

Anyway, Tom straightened up the kitchen and the living room of papers and hardware, and I cleaned the refrigerator.

He got some more boxes today and a pretty, colorful pad of notepaper for me.

Later…

Next door’s still quiet at night and during the daytime. They still seem to go in and out a lot, the first trip usually starting now, at 6 AM.

I’m not at all looking forward to the weekend, as always. I don’t know if that white car did start to move in only to change its mind, if it only planned to be there for the weekend, or what, but I do know there’ll be some kind of shit over there this weekend. My guess is that the white car will bang in and out, or the ranchero will. I’ll probably send the city letter off next Monday. Especially if they fuck up my schedule which I just managed to get back on track so we can go look at land Monday, as well as to Red Lobster and to Wal-Mart.

I’ve gone from 107 pounds to 111 pounds. Yeah, I knew I would. Am I gonna try to lose it again? No. I’m not gonna bother, cuz I’ll just gain it right back.

Later…

Oh, no. Here we go again with Lisa trying to call collect. I’m not gonna answer and tell her a third time not to call me. I’m just gonna ignore her calls and hope they stop while we’re still here. We just can’t get out of here fast enough!

There was a private call a little while ago. Could it have been Andy? They didn’t leave a message, but he’s supposed to be at work now. What’d he do? Bail out of this job, too?

FRIDAY, JUNE 25, 1999 Less than 24 hours to go before the peace we’ve had around here since Sunday’s gone.

I saw a bunch of people working on the rental yesterday, but I don’t know what they were doing. They were hammering an assortment of objects that were on the ground, they were on the roof, they were everywhere. I can’t believe the place is still empty, but I doubt it’ll last much longer.

I wish I could get myself to quit worrying about what I eat and just live life. Tom says I’m skinny, but as far as I’m concerned, I’m far from it. I’m not huge either, but I’m plump. Quite chunky in most areas. I will never be any thinner than I am now, so I wish I could get myself to stop wasting my time on diets. Also, although I want to, getting a home gym will be a tremendous waste of money. I’m just gonna do what I always do - I’ll stick to it with utter dedication and determination for the first few weeks, and then I’ll have to push myself. I always lose interest and drive. I’m still doing my stomach exercises, but barely. It’s a real struggle to get myself to do it. All that ambition I felt for a couple of weeks there is gone. Perhaps the reason I lack motivation is that I know I’m so limited. I knew my stomach wasn’t gonna get any flatter than where I’d flattened it to after a couple of weeks.

Tom worked a zillion hours overtime, again, as usual, cuz of a failed hard drive that runs the sorter he uses. When are we ever gonna get back on track with the painting, and when will this painting ever end, and when will we get the fuck out of here?! Before Lisa tries calling a hundredth time? Before Tammy decides to go on a let’s-forget-the-past-and-move-on-till-the-same-old-shit-happens-again-for-the-zillionth-time calling spree? Before Andy asks for a dozen more favors or wants me to go somewhere with him? Before next door’s company has banged in and out enough times to drive me crazy and wake me up?

Lisa’s only called once so far, but here we go with Andy’s favors again. Can’t come over without needing something from me. Couldn’t God have held him off just until we could finally get the fuck out of here?! He needs another button sewn. He says it popped off the first time he wore the pants, but I don’t buy it for a second. I’ve never heard of anyone popping buttons like he does, and sometimes I think he does it deliberately just to get a favor from me. And he happens to need to bring the pants over to me on a weekend? He says he wants to bring them over for just “5 minutes” or drop them off. Anything to rebel and to butt into my weekends! I left him a message to just drop them off and I’ll call him when they’re done. I told him we’d be out all weekend looking at land.

What’s he gonna do when I’m gone? He’s gonna have to learn to sew his own buttons on. And stop eating, too! I’m sure that most of this constant button popping is cuz he’s stuffing the shit out of himself. And I also think that’s the cause of the bulk of his puking, too. Stomachs and pants can only handle so much food.

Later…

Wow. It’s supposed to hit 110º this weekend. Finally! This is the mildest summer Arizona’s ever seen so far. It won’t stop cars from blasting in and out from, 10 PM-1 AM, though.

I listened to music, I scrubbed the bathroom, I scrubbed the kitchen sink, and now I’m bored shitless. Perhaps I should read and do some more cleaning since there’s nothing on TV but the usual, and since I have nothing to say till the weekend. Come the weekend, I’m sure I’ll have plenty to say. Till then and till we can get the fuck out of here, I find myself vegging out with my thoughts. I think about what my view is going to be like looking out at the natural desert landscape. You know how rotten a neighborhood Oswego Street was but did I ever tell you about the view? The exact view? From my back door, I could see a big old ugly dumpster. A few feet behind that was another 4-story brick building only it was empty and rundown. Some of its windows were boarded up and the ones that weren’t were smashed. There was graffiti all over it and garbage strewn everywhere. That was my view. And that was barely a decade ago.

SATURDAY, JUNE 26, 1999 The bathroom fan does a great job. Not one drop of moisture was on the mirror when I stepped out of the shower.

To give my hair a break from the same old, same old, I switched shampoos. This one has a separate shampoo and conditioner, unlike the one I’d been using that had both in one bottle. Its vanilla scent, which seems to be a popular scent these days, is nice and it lets me use more conditioner. Those two-in-one put way more shampoo in than conditioner and this hair needs a ton of conditioner.

All’s been quiet next door since I got up at midnight. In fact, from what I can see, no vehicle at all has been over there. My vibes said there wouldn’t be any music, but my logic said there would be. Well, I’m glad my vibes have won so far, but I repeat, so far. The weekend’s young. However, since our chat last Sunday, I haven’t seen or heard anything more than the van’s comings and goings. No kids, no music, no voices. And thank you God for seeing that as of yet, I’ve been wrong on that dog vibe. If that vibe’s right, I just hope it’s not till after we’ve moved. I don’t know if their quietness is a result of our talk, or if it would’ve panned out this way anyway, but I’m enjoying it while it lasts.

Later…

The van went out at 6:30. It’s deathly humid out there now, and hot. That might curb any shit from going down next door, and my vibes are good, but I don’t know. It didn’t stop that black cock from banging in and out of there when he was here in the heat and humidity, but so far, no sign of the ranchero or the white car.

Sex was pretty amazing earlier. Makes me wonder if he’s read my recent writings about the same old, same old getting rather old. He’s still making excuses, as usual. Don’t get me wrong. He’s still on the back excuse trip, saying it’s really weak and needs to be strengthened. Maybe so, and although he denies this, perhaps his age has something to do with it, too. Whatever. What was amazing was that he suddenly, out of the blue, asked if I wanted to go on top. I guess a part of this was cuz of his back and not just for the sake of variety, but what was even more amazing than me being on top for the first time in ages, was that I had no problem guiding him in there. As almost always, neither of us came. I asked if he’s cum by that before and he said yes. Anyway, I told him the variety was nice, and that although I did prefer to screw and be on the bottom most of the time, I like a change of pace every so often. Actually, I wish he’d go down on me every other time we got together (it just feels the best), but I know that that would be too much to ask of him. Way too much. The guy’s tongue would fall out! It takes me longer to cum nowadays. Besides, I already made my feelings known about him going down on me for a change, he didn’t do it, and I don’t want to make him do anything he doesn’t want to do.

SUNDAY, JUNE 27, 1999 My vibes have been right so far. No music from next door. All we saw was the gold car come to visit and Tom said he heard voices out back yesterday afternoon when he was rinsing paintbrushes. I told him I knew the humidity wouldn’t stop them from hanging out back (not that I care about voices at this point. It’s music I care about) and he said they may’ve been inside the house with the evaporative cooler running which needs open windows. I said I was surprised they’d run the cooler and not the AC, and he said they may not have much of a choice. Really? I thought everything was paid for them - their bills, their food, their clothes, etc. Maybe not, though. The electricity may’ve been included in the Oswego Street project, but it wasn’t in the NHA.

Just heard the van return and two car doors. One for him. One for her. So, does the smaller fat lady, whose name I don’t know, stay home and watch the kids when Debra and her hubby take off? Who is this woman in relation to Deb? Her mom? Sister? Cousin? In-law? Friend? I never got a good look at her to see if I could see a resemblance to Deb and how old she might be, but she’s gotta be in her 40s at the very least. I can’t tell if Deb’s in her 20s or 30s. Her face is so swollen with fat that her eyes are nearly swollen shut and I can’t see lines and wrinkles too well if they’re there.

No calls from Andy (yet). Now that’s really surprising. I mean, aren’t we gonna have to play phone a zillion times over a lousy pair of pants? Isn’t he gonna have to call a zillion times leading up to the big drop-off of these pants? Maybe they’re already out front, but I’m not gonna check right now. Not with the hinges loaded with masking tape. We masked the doors and shit like that that we didn’t want the paint sprayer to hit.

For the last 5 days or so, there have been private messageless calls. Tom says it could be Eldon, whose number comes up as private, and who’s been known to call and leave no message. Could be Andy, too.

Later…

Tom took the air compressor inside so he could spray paint and he made a major breakthrough with covering the wall art. Most of it barely shows anymore, so that’s great. He did the kitchen and the living room yesterday, although the living room ceiling still needs to be done. Today he’s gonna concentrate on the bedrooms.

TUESDAY, JUNE 29, 1999 Yesterday Tom turned 42. It’s hard to believe that in just 8 years he’ll be 50. If there’s one good thing about his being older, it’s that if the place we move to does end up growing over the years, we can move to Sun City in just 13 years.

The thing that really pissed me off was that Tom’s mom didn’t even care to send him a birthday card this year like she always used to. There’s always the chance it was misdelivered or will be delayed, but if not, that just made the woman go even lower in my mind. First she uses him, steals our time and money, then she doesn’t even send him a birthday card!

For his birthday, I made Tom a disk of a screen saver I made for him with different sayings on different backgrounds.

Before I get into our land hunt - Minnie’s trying to get in touch again. Also, and to my utter amazement, I never did hear from Andy this weekend and no pants showed up at my door. I left him a message a little while ago asking what the scoop was with that. Maybe he took care of his own damn pants for a change. Or got too fat for them, button or no button.

Next door was quiet all weekend. As quiet as they usually are during the week. But will it stay this way? I wonder about July 4th. Well, if it doesn’t stay quiet, we’ll deal with it then.

I went out to put my mail out and saw all their van windows open. This may not be New York City, Boston, or Springfield, but that is so stupid!

Later…

OK, on with yesterday’s outing. We left at 6 AM and didn’t return till 1 PM.

We didn’t go to Palm Harbor’s place in Apache Junction as we originally planned, but that’s to be our next step to find out what we qualify for. Then, we go out with a realtor to more property.

We drove out to Maricopa which is nestled by the Ak-chin Indian reservation and the Gila River Indian reservation. They also have Hopi, Navajo, Mojave, Apache, and more throughout the state. In fact, most of Arizona is owned by the government (national parks or forests) or the Indians. They have a lot of ancient Indian ruins around the state too, that I want to check out some time.

We looked at 3-acre lots. Some had manufactured houses on them, some were empty. I was surprised to see how close the houses were, although Tom didn’t think they were too close at all. To me, they looked two houses apart. From us to the collie’s house. He said he didn’t think so. He felt they looked 10 houses apart, and that distance can fool you if there’s nothing in between houses. He said we wouldn’t hear neighbors in our house. Outside - maybe. The 3-acre lots were more expensive but were rigged with utilities and water that was piped into the houses just like they are here in the city. We liked the more secluded, private, bigger lots, that are cheaper, but the catch is that they aren’t rigged for phone, electricity, or water.

I was surprised to see how many kids lived there (I still plan not to have a kid) and the school buses for summer school that went by. They have mail services, but the mail doesn’t come into your house through a slot. You have mailboxes at the edge of your property. I don’t know if UPS goes out there or not, but I’d think so. Maybe the mail service will be better out there and we won’t need a PO Box.

The owners of the rental are here now. When are they gonna sell or re-rent the place?

Anyway, the secluded lots were more private because their natural desert landscape was untouched. The sage bushes and Palo Verde trees are boring looking compared to saguaros, prickly pears, and ocotillos, but they do shield you from other houses. The houses that were on the smaller lots had originally been farmland, so all the sage and cactuses were cleared out. In that area, though, embedded in the base of Papago Butte Mountain, was a house for sale that we might consider checking into. It’d be perfect as far as utilities and water go, and the payments would be cheaper than this house, but the house might be a dump. It’s a manufactured house, but it’s about 20 years old. I’d prefer something new. It’s listed as a 3-bedroom 2½ bath with an addition that could make it a 4-bedroom house, but the big question is - is it quiet being elevated above other houses and with neighbors on either side, that again, seem so close? Don’t get me wrong. They’re not 3 feet away, but I still don’t see how a pack of screaming kids couldn’t be heard from the next house over (not that a 3-acre lot wouldn’t suit us. It’d sure beat 3 feet and be much quieter) Also, being higher, that enables the surrounding houses a straight shot at the house with their noise. Lastly, we were wondering how you’d put a pool in with it being on an incline like that. We may have to put it in front. At least we wouldn’t have to worry about anything noisy coming in behind us being nestled right against the bass of the mountain.

So, now that we saw the area, measured distances, checked out acreage, and looked over landscapes, we checked off all the appealing ads in those papers that the realtor sent so we can check those out, and the mountain house, too. We got a kick out of some of the ads that said: secluded with good neighbors. If you’re so secluded, then how do you know what your neighbors are like? And when they say “good neighbors” do they mean quiet neighbors or neighbors that are decent people?

Some of the mountains are prettier than others. I like the rockier mountains, rather than the ones that look like huge piles of dirt.

Tom asked if I’d be nervous with him gone since some people worry about being all alone with homicidal maniacs on the loose. Homicidal maniacs can be anywhere, but I think there are more of those in cities. Also, and as I told him, if it’s my time to go, so be it. If I’m destined to ever be shot, run over, or stricken with a killer disease, then there’s nothing I can do to stop that. Meanwhile, I can’t imagine my being nervous, and to this day I regret bothering the police to check out the sounds I heard when I first came to this house. I should’ve been a big girl and checked it out myself, just like I do from time to time, and that’s what I’ll do if I hear anything strange no matter where we live. If it’s our house, it’s our problem and our responsibility to deal with anything suspicious or that has our curiosity peaked. Anyway, a homicidal maniac can throw itself into anyone’s house anywhere, but if one does decide to pick our house, it damn well better come armed or with lots of pals, cuz any unarmed cock or two that comes to my door is gonna be walking straight into a death trap. I’ll kill it, bury it, and not even bother to call the cops. Let its family wonder whatever the hell became of it.

Anyway, noise is more important an issue to me than views or privacy. People can look as long as they don’t bother us. If I hear soft sounds off in the distance that isn’t constant, OK. As long as dogs, music, and people aren’t heard as well as I can hear them here.

The only bummer of it is, is that we’re still looking at being here another 2-3 months. At least. As Tom says, we have the rest of our lives, but I want out of here! I’ve been wanting out for years!

After looking at the land we went to K-Mart. They had ugly sundresses, but a surprising number of $20 porcelain dolls. They had some for $30 too, that were a little bigger.

What I did end up getting was a Heart CD. It was another Greatest Hits album, but this time, with the original recordings. Not live. I was hoping this one would have another version of Dreamboat Annie, a really beautiful song, for variety’s sake. They did. Only this one’s not nearly as nice. It also comes with the lyrics. Tom and I had tried to find Heart lyrics online to no avail.

Tom forgot the map, so he bought another one in Osco Drug so he could find the way to Red Lobster. Also, he wanted a newer map of the state. Osco Drug also had a handful of $20 porcelain dolls.

Our experience at Red Lobster was totally different than our last trip there a year ago. No kid could’ve thrown food at us if they wanted to as the nearest table was too far away. Also, all the neighboring diners were adults. There was one baby, but it slept the whole time it was there.

The lobster was good, but it didn’t seem as meaty this time around. Guess it was a little one. He had a hamburger.

Our last stop was the grocery store to quickly pick up a few items. When we were at the check-out counter, I saw a little booklet titled: The Right Way to Pray. Well, how hard can that be? Don’t you just ask God for what you want? Maybe there is a right way and a wrong way to pray since he’s never answered 98% of my prayers. Or maybe there simply is no right way we can pray for the things we aren’t meant to have. You can’t ask for what isn’t destined.

What is it with all this God shit popping up, anyway? There are so many commercials about books to get on how to establish a personal relationship with God. Well, to each their own, and yes, God’s blessed me in many ways, but for the most part, he’s allowed pain and hardship to be inflicted upon me and I don’t care to establish a relationship with someone that could do that to me. I don’t do connections with control freaks whether they’re parents, Gods, or whoever.

I look in the mirror and I still see a pudgy person there. How can Tom call me skinny? I swear I’m only thin in the wrists and ankles! Having such a small mouth doesn’t help my face. It makes it look bigger. I also wonder if my bottom teeth will always go downhill from left to right. Since the teeth on the right side are back further, it makes it look like the teeth on the left side are taller. Well, even if they stay like they are - they’re great compared to what I started with. They’re plenty straight enough now.

Later…

I got to thinking about it and started wondering if all those private calls not only could be Andy, but messages he’s leaving that I’m not getting, so even though I doubted that the machine was fucked up, I called and left a message asking him about it, but he says it’s not him that’s been calling. Well, I admit that it could be sales or Eldon, but my gut instinct says it’s Andy. The calls are coming when I know he’s home, and I really think he had Michelle call when he was back east to try to throw me off. A private call came in right after he left his message. What better way to try to throw someone off than to call right after leaving a message denying you’ve been calling them, huh? I should know. I used to do the same thing he’s doing. Well, although I’m curious to know who the caller is for sure, they say your gut instinct is the one to trust, so I think I can bet on it being Andy. OK then Andy, have your fun while it lasts!

Really, though, if it’s entertaining to him - fine. The loser doesn’t have anything better to do. It’s so sad, too. This guy isn’t dumb. I mean, he is and he isn’t. If he only wouldn’t waste his life sitting home getting stoned, he could offer this world so much.

Anyway, in his message denying the calls, he didn’t say anything about the pants, just that he had a dream about Quinn (oh, God!) and that he misses him. Also, he knows where Papago Butte is and wouldn’t mind visiting me there cuz it’s not too far. Well, Andy dear, it’s about 40 minutes away from where you are, you say you have a shit car that’s unregistered, and the town is Maricopa. Only the mountain’s called Papago Butte (not that we’re definitely gonna live at the base of this mountain). But it doesn’t matter how close or how far it is, cuz I know he’s not going to be visiting.

[getittogetherk]

Sunday, December 1, 2024

A new month! I'm not sure why, but seeing a 1 for a date made me feel different today. Somehow the last few months have felt long, so it felt like a new beginning to have a fresh month.

i'm happy to be writing again. not as much time has lapsed between this writing and my last, relatively.

week in review: last sunday: Didn't go to church because i was watching tango and was afraid that he would cry/howl the whole time, like he did in the other times i was watching him and kristin would tell me about it. i also checked in on thor a few times. for maybe the first time, i really enoyed tango's company. he wasn't that needy, would take naps while i worked, and pretty much sleep whenever i wanted to sleep and would curl up on the bed and sleep through the night and i would feel his little warm body down by my feet. we'd go out for short walks 4-5 times a day and only occasionally would he sort of put his paws up on me and look at me, and so i'd get down and give him such attention, but that was it. monday: work, and then to patti's, where i met up with patti, jeff, matt, and alex, and we chatted and played some of the best, funnest, and funniest rounds of Codenames to date. despite telling myself that i wouldn't stay past 10, i ended up staying until around 11 or 11:30 and getting home around midnight. tuesday was rough since i was so tired and was also an in-office day, and joyce provided lunch; this time it was costco sandwiches, homemade salad, potato salad, chips, and maybe something else. matt was invited and came along and of course got along with everyone. afterward i went to chinatown and got a haircut and an eyebrow threading, and then to the arts district for happy hour with the ceo folk, which then switched venues two more times, ending with drunken karaoke and dancing at The Mermaid bar in little tokyo, followed by the requisite sobbing and having to be consoled/talked down by cesar in his car. wednesday was work at home where i was dead tired but also very embarrassed by the previous night's antics. thursday: thanksgiving. i bought some things at ralphs, then went to my mom's around 1pm. she had acquired a chunk of turkey breast which she had baked and some honeybaked ham, and i made green bean casserole, mashed potatoes, and mac and cheese (the latter two from scratch). then we had some pie and coffee and i trader her one episode of Brooklyn 99 to one episode of the travel show with Kian 84 before i headed out, absentmindedly ate a bunch of leftover mac and cheese, and then rolled around with a stomachache until i puked around midnight. friday: fishing with sov and the kids at the Hansen Dam basin. no catches, but some sightings and bites. the kids amused themselves when not fishing with playing in the dirt and collecting little pod things and stacking rocks, that kind of thing. i went home and shortly thereafter joyce called and then we played pickleball in LC around 3. saturday: am walking/hiking behind jpl with danielle and snicks, followed by the requisite tacos, nachos, and margaritas at Homestate. great conversation and company. i think then i just sat around and ultimately finished the last two episodes of Brooklyn 99 which was kind of sad but also done in such a way as to make it as least sad as possible. sunday (today): did not go to either church or pickleball as i had slept very poorly and didn't get out of bed until 9:30 am, but then was productive until about 4pm. i washed three loads of dishes, took out a bunch of trash and recycling, posted a bunch of free things on the buy nothing group, scrubbed the tub, swept the bathroom floor, put away a bunch of things including any clothing lying around, sorted some papers, that kind of thing. then at 4 i put on some joggers and took a 45 minute walk as the sun set, listening to The Read and chatting with lana. though i didn't see anybody or talk to anyone besides lana, today was a pretty good day. i felt it once i sat down in the morning with my coffee and filled out all of my little trackers. my daily to do list, my tracking journal, the last few days' of expenditures. i'm realizing that i like this, that it's calming, that i like putting things on paper, filing things away in a way that feels systematic and organized. i like seeing how the dollars and time are spent. i like checking off boxes and setting small achievable goals.

some other things i've noticed lately. i'm getting a bit sick of youtube. i used to be able to watch it without stopping, one after another. the downfall of this or that celebrity, youtuber, tik toker, some self-improvement, minimalism, reality tv recaps, murder mysteries, etc. but lately i've gotten a bit bored. after scanning the usual news, tmz, and slickdeals, i find myself a bit wondering what else to do. i'm reading a bit more than usual but not loving the book i'm reading, Jitterbug Perfume. it's well-written, but it feels like i need to read larger chunks at a time, and that i'm not really getting it when i just read a few pages at a time, which is lately mostly all i have the patience for.

i want to go more analog. i want to look at my phone less and maybe when i want to be serious about researching something, use my laptop. i'm starting to use my field notes journal more, and i want to use it more than the "notes" app on my iphone. i also want to write more. journal or maybe even that memoir i've thought so often about. again, i feel the shifting. my infatuation with anh has waned, and i'm again looking around the condo and addressing things that have long since needed to be addressed. i removed a lot of the tacky wrapping paper and old scrapbooking materials and put them up on facebook. i put away manuals and the "sentimental" items into their boxes. i replaced my bathroom vanity mirror yesterday with a similar style but wood instead of the stainless steel/nickel that was there before, that matches my floors and warms the place up a little. i bought bouquets of mums at whole foods yesterday, of which i gave one to my mom and one for myself. i wrapped christmas gifts, made christmas lists, and bought a few things on amazon that i've wanted/needed for a while, like a wooden sleeker queen bedframe.

yesterday joyce took a photo of me at pickleball and when i saw it, i looked so bad. my stomach was practically hanging over my pants and i just looked unhealthily overweight. i watched some youtube videos on fat/weight loss but i also knew that i knew enough to lose the weight. i just needed to commit more.

i'm reading a consensus that diet is one of the biggest things to focus on, much more than exercise, so i want to focus more on my diet. other items more important than exercise is less stress and better sleep, and i think those things might be easier for me to do than exercise, and i've already been working on healthier sleep habits. maybe that's why the idea of a new month and soon, a new year feels uplifting to me. another opportunity for a fresh start. a reset. a new hope. and this time, i'll do better, but if not, there will be another new month.

i think another part of tackling long held-off things at the condo is getting rid of things, and not just the daily and weekly trash, recycling, packaging, and mail, etc. but things i've been holding on to for no particular reason. i want to focus on 1-2 items a week or 3-4 items a month in which i get rid of things or tackle chores that i've been off for more than 3 months, like working on the fishing closet and researching prices for my dad's cameras. i want to get rid of some of the things from my relationship with j, like picture frames and maybe gifts i received. she is married, there is no return, and that is long-gone chapter and i do not need souvenirs of those times. i think i'm ready, or at the least, significantly readier than i once was. i want the condo to be cleaner, emptier, less cluttered, and i want my mind to be as well. i actually stopped reading a book and put it away to return to grace because i just didn't want to read it anymore, and that's not something i've done in the past. i just didn't want to continue spending my time on such poor writing like it was homework that i just needed to grit my teeth to get through, when there were so many books out there that i would much rather be spending my time on.

one more interesting "revelation" i had was regarding travel. i feel like i don't enjoy traveling as much as i thought i did, or perhaps once did. i look forward to getting back to wherever i'm staying to look at my phone and lie down, which is what i do most of the time i'm at home too. i don't like how i have less control of my meals and that i eat out so much and i get frustrated that i can't have the particular things that i want, like an in n out burger or pho when i want it. there are always hassles like uber costs, public transportation annoyances, random walking, sometimes to nowhere. i occasionally like eating good food and i enjoyed walking around mt. rainier and a nature path/hike near portland, but a lot of it was otherwise uneventful and unimpactful, and made me question if i even liked traveling. i find, when traveling, i'm more reminded of things i should get to improve the quality of my life, particularly as it comes to travel. a shirt that breathes, shoes other than tevas, a nicer head/neck pillow for the plane. and i get more self conscious about food as previously mentioned. i suddenly want more fruit and vegetables, or specific niche foods that are not available. and i often think about ways i want to improve "once i get home" and "once i'm back to my routine". i think about how i want to lose that weight and dress better as i'll see myself in photos and be very unhappy with what i see. i basically become more aware of how my daily routine could be improved, and i think more about getting back to it than i necessarily enjoy the moment.

ironically, when i'm at home and in my daily routine, besides the structure from the daily lists and mechanical chores, etc., i don't really eat better, or cook healthier, and i spend so many hours staring at my phone. the past 2 weeks have averaged about 8.5 hours/day, which is bad considering 8 hours is supposed to be sleeping and 8 in working, which means that at least for a part of my sleeping and working hours, i'm staring at my phone. it's like this constant state of dissatisfaction where the grass looks greener on the other side, and i can't seem to enjoy where i am when i'm doing it.

except for maybe now, and maybe the last few days. the reading, pickleball, walks, organizing. maybe the travel is helpful in that it encourages to make more of the time that i spend at home. it almost makes me miss it, to romanticize it. i think people like traveling because it's a break from the monotony and strain of daily life, but when my daily life is not particularly strained, the vacation feels less like a vacation, and more like a different type of strain that i am less familiar with.

interesting times. interesting insights.

signing off, ghil

[nathank77]

4/3/24

8:48 p.m Updated/Edited/Slightly Added to 9:16 p.m

I took the 1MG and passed out rapidly. I slept for about 5 hours. I needed to pee and I couldn't fall back to sleep bc of it so I took a Benadryl... and slept until 4:45 p.m.

So my doctor sent me the paperwork to get my hsv2 test. I scheduled it for Friday.

My endo called me today when I was sleeping and he wants me to try the Atorvastatin again and stop if I get muscles spasms again. He said my thyroid ultrasound went well. Yet there are two nodules so I'm confused. Are they talking about my 3 year inflamed lymph node they always scan and the original nodule on my thyroid?

Also they said nothing about my eye exam... Maybe that means call the eye doctor cause he already did it? I'm going to call the eye doctor tomorrow.

Anyways I woke up at 4:30 p.m. My new Ray-Bans will be here tomorrow, as well as all my boxers/socks and my new shoes. The nerdy rimless are still in, "the works." EVGA received my package and idk if they shipped another.... the RMA is, "complete." But I don't see tracking and never got another product. I'm going to call them tomorrow.

I decided I needed to go grocery shopping as the weather today sucked but will be the same tomorrow. I had therapy at 7 p.m. There is a huge puddle around my car and my engine has been ticking, so I had to put oil in it. Idk if it resolved it bc of the hail and shitty weather. I used the whole bottle and didn't see anything on the dipstick... I'm sure there is enough. I know I haven't done an oil change or filled it in a while and my car has 7 oil leaks. It usually needs oil once every 2 months or so. I will find out if it fixed the ticking on Friday when it isn't a fucking monsoon and I can hear my car.

The puddle was so bad that it was taller than my shoes plastic bottom. Water sunk into my sneakers and soaked my socks all the way up to the top of my feet. So I had to go to Walmart and stop and shop like that.

I only grabbed the necessities. I need a decent amount of stuff still but I'll be good until Friday. I'll go to Quest, then grocery shopping and then cvs for my Xanax.

I got home changed my socks and shoes and attended therapy. Mike was saying my report isn't formated correctly.. I'm going to read the thing he sent me but I have put a lot of work into it. He was like you don't need a notary, ummm yes you do I called and talked directly to the office and I need to have a notary so the people I listed can release information.... I'll read what he sent me but I'm pretty sure I did everything right. He said I need bullet points and headlines... I don't think that's true...

Either way it was a generally ineffective therapy session. Not the worst one. I'm not mad but he said you got to make sure you do it right otherwise they won't even read it.....I'm pretty sure I am doing it right.

Beyond that he said something concerning, once I report her it will be available publicly... Idk how true that is but if it is, I mean I still need to do it for my internal peace and suffering... I'm concerned about that.... but I can't let her live her beautiful life and potentially endanger another client... she truly is negligent...

He also said benzodiazepines are going to get phased out in 10 years like quludes... like bro please stop giving me anxiety. They are the only reason I fucking sleep.

I feel like the first 35 minutes was the Mike show. I can't wait to leave. I'm going to give him maybe a month, I need him to read the report so he knows what I said. I'll still read the website he sent me but I'm 90% sure I did everything right.............

Anyways now that I've had a little time to go over my test results I took pictures of everything concerning. I'm the most concerned about my Alkaline phosphate jumping so high within like 15 days... I'm concerned about a few other things but I got to do my research. It's funny cause I'm on less Methimazole than I was before. So in theory it's likely not the Methimazole or maybe I'm going into remission and I need to stop it idk....

[madnessformunson]

Double Daddy Part 9

Notes: sorry this chapter took so long and it’s pretty short, the next one is longer. Hope you all enjoy 🖤

Also when I pasted it into tumblr my formatting changed a lot so it looks really weird but I’m too lazy to try to fix it 🖤

You slam the front door once you follow in the house behind your dad. He is shaking his head as you cross your arms in frustration.

“You are not even trying to hear me out dad! You don’t know the whole story” you shout at him.

“I don’t need to know the whole story y/n, he clearly has been sleeping around with multiple people” Hopper states as he makes his way into the kitchen. Joyce is there preparing lunch but makes no effort to join in on your discussion.

“Dad we were anything serious” you start to argue but Hopper cuts you off, “somehow that doesn’t make this situation any better”

“He slept with Chrissy one time at a party where he was drunk at Dad. I’m not the biggest fan of the situation either but it is what it is, at the end of the day he is the father of my baby. I need to be able to get along with him.”

“I understand that y/n, it just-it just really upsets me that he upsets you so much, I don’t want you getting hurt by him” Hopper says as he pulls you into a hug.

It was a great warm hug. One of the best hugs you’ve had in such a long time. You don’t know if it was your raging hormones or the fact that you and your dad haven’t shared a hug like this in forever, but you started to cry.

“Oh honey I’m sorry” he says to you as he squeezes you tighter.

“It’s ok dad, I’m ok. I just need to be on good terms with Eddie because… I think I might want to keep the baby” you respond, still buried into his embrace.

“Y/n you know all I ever want is for you to be happy and healthy. It up to you if you decided you want to raise the baby but I really encourage you to weigh out all your options and make the best decision for not only you but the baby as well”

After that was said, hugs were released and the tears that had spilled out of your eyes were wiped.

“Here” Hopper said as he tossed his truck keys to you, “why don’t you go to your appointment and stop by Eddie’s on your way home. Curfew of 9pm sharp”

“10pm?” You said with a laugh and smile.

“9:30 and not a second passed” he agreed and you nodded as you made your way to the truck.

The appointment went well and everything was on the right one track. You are 16 weeks now.

After the appointment you drove to Eddie’s trailer. Once you pulled up you realized you didn’t know if Eddie had informed his uncle of your current situation. You dig through the truck until you find an old black pullover of yours. It definitely didn’t completely hide the bump but it made it not as prominent.

You slowly approach the door as your heart starts racing. You practiced what you thought you would say in the car on the way over but now? You had no idea. You knock lightly three times on the door. Wayne answered it in a rush, continuing to button up his work shirt.

“Hi Mr. Muson, I was wondering if Eddie was home” you said rather quietly.

“Kid I’m pretty sure you’ve known Eddie for years now and I’ve told you repeatedly to just call me Wayne” he said as he stepped out of the doorway so you could walk inside.

“Sorry”

“It’s ok kid, haven’t seen you in a while around here” he said as his eyes drifted to your growing stomach then back up to your eyes.

You just stood there uncomfortably for a second.

“Well I’m off to work now, Eddie should be in his room. Make yourself at home” he stated as he turned to grab a to-go cup of coffee and headed out.

You approached Eddie’s door and knock, “hey Ed’s it’s me can I come in”

You hear movement and sniffling behind the door before it is opened to reveal Eddie. His eyes were red and glossy with puffy cheeks to match, you could tell he had been crying. His messy curls pulled into a loose bun at the back of his head, no shirt on his body, just some old black pajama pants.

“What are you doing here y/n?” Eddie said in a concerned voice.

“Just wanted to check on you, seemed like you had quite the life changing afternoon”

He gestured you in the room and you sat on the edge of his unmade bed while he took a spot in the desk chair. It’s was silent for a few moments before Eddie decided to break it.

“I am so so sorry y/n”

“I know” you said emotionless.

“No seriously I’m so so so sorry, I don’t know where my head has been the past couple months and I just-“ Eddie started but you soon cut him off.

“I don’t want to say it’s ok Eds cause it’s not but I’m willing to put it behind us. I’m willing to work together as a team so we can raise our daughter together” you said looking down at your shoes.

“I’ll figure out someway to make it up to you I swe- wait did you just say daughter?” Eddie said as he stood up to sit next to you on the bed.

You nod. “I had an appointment today, remember? They were able to tell me they are pretty sure the baby is a girl”

“Fuck I was suppose to take you to that appointment I’m so sorry-“

“No more sorry’s munson, I’ll give you a free pass for today since it was a really shitty day for you” you smile at him.

“I think-I think I want to keep her” you say to him in almost a whisper.

“Are you sure that’s what you want”

“I’m still going through all my options but every day I feel closer and closer to her, I want what is best for her of course but I also want to try to give that to her” you say, placing a hand on your rounded tummy.

You get back home not long after that. Joyce and Hopper sat in the dining room, just the two of them in the dimly lit room.

You greet them which breaks their deep conversation they were having.

“Hey sweetie, how was your appointment?” Joyce says as she motions you over to sit at the table with them.

“It was good, the doctor said we are healthy.” You said with a smile as you sat down.

“Your dad mentioned that you are thinking about keeping the baby?” Joyce asked as she took your hands into hers.

“Yeah I’m still trying to decide though, nothing is set yet” you wiggle in your seat, feeling uncomfortable with the conversation.

“I know that right now, this feels like the hardest part but it’s not dear. This is the easiest part, once the baby is here is when the real struggles begin. There are amazing and beautiful moments in raising a child, but there are also dark and lonely days. Children don’t come with a book. But I hope you know, whatever you decide your father and I will support you in any way we possibly can. And we will be incredibly proud of you, no matter what you choose.”

Tears break loose from the brim of your lids.

“Oh sweetie, I didn’t mean to upset you” Joyce says, taking you in for a hug.

You embrace the hug and then wipe your eyes with your sleeves, “this is so hard, I want to make the right decision but it doesn’t feel like there is a right one. I just want to do what’s best for her”

Your dad joins in the conversation now, “her? It’s a girl?”

You nod and more tears spill over.

“Oh sweetie congratulations!” Joyce says as she covers her mouth with her hands in excitement.

“You know we will help you in any way we can y/n, we love you both so much” your dad said as he got up to give you a hug as well.

“Thank you both so so much”

The next day Joyce came into your room early to wake you up. Honestly you were pretty pissed she woke you up because you were so tired, but you were trying to be nicer to everyone. She told you to get dressed and come down stairs as soon as you were ready.

You threw on your leggings which were the only pair of bottoms you had that fit you anymore. You topped it with an oversized sweatshirt and your sneakers.

You ran down the stairs and sat at the table, filling your plate up with the breakfast foods Joyce had made.

There was a knock at the door, followed by Steve entering the house before anyone came to open the door.

“Good morning!” He entered with a smile making his way over to the kitchen table.

You mumble as you stuff a biscuit into your mouth. Steve reaches over to grab a piece of food off your plate to which you promptly smacked it away.

“What are you doing here Steve? Don’t you have your own family to annoy in the mornings” Hopper said as he sipped his black coffee. Your dad's comment made you chuckle and Steve took a seat at the table.

“I know she’s moody because she’s pregnant but what’s your excuse?” Steve said with a laugh.

Hopper rolled his eyes, “seriously what are you doing here”

Just then Joyce enters back to the table, “I asked him to come over and take El and Will to the arcade for the day, I wanted to have some girl time with just y/n”

You almost choke on your food. Joyce has been amazing to you but ‘girl time’ still wasn’t something you enjoyed.

“Why can’t El come too? She’s a girl” you ask, not making eye contact.

“Because I don’t think she’s going to find going to the maternity and baby store that exciting”

“Do we have to go do that today?” You let out with a groan.

“Yes we do, you need more than one pair of pants y/n. Plus I already talked to Eddie and he will be meeting us there so we can look at some of the essentials you’ll be needing for the baby”

Your eyes grew wide “why would you invite Eddie? I thought we were having a girls day. I really really don’t want to do this”

“I just figured it would be good for him to tag along so he knows what you guys are gonna need if you decide to raise the baby”

“This should be considered torture” you let out another loud groan, placing your head into your hands.

“No torture would be me pulling out my old maternity clothes from the Rubbermaid container in the garage and telling you to wear those” Joyce replied as she started to eat her own breakfast.

[kythed]

“almost funny”

synopsis: suna rintarou thinks you’re out of his league, and you think he’s out of yours.

tagged: general dumbassery, fwb-to-lovers, some profanity, sexual references but nothing explicit.

commitment level: 5.6k words.

It’s almost funny, really. It’s funny how what started out as a purely physical transaction has now transformed into a one way ticket to Simpville with the name Suna Rintarou stamped on it in big red letters. Suna runs a hand through his hair in frustration as he stares down at your sleeping form, curled up in his SF Giants tee that fits you like an oversized nightgown. He loves how you look there, wearing his clothes, bed head resting on his pillows. It’s almost embarrassing how much he loves it. How much he might love you. 

He doesn’t really remember when he started seeing you as more than a good fuck. Maybe it was that time you told him he looked pretty with your lipgloss smeared across his mouth. 

“That’s a nice shade on you,” you’d laughed as he wiped his lips on the back of his hand. “You should wear it more often.” 

Then, before he could respond, you’d yanked him back in by the collar, licking into his mouth, deep and dirty. He shivers now even just thinking about it, recalling the taste of that lipgloss. Strawberry lemonade, the sort that comes in little bottles at the dollar store. However “pretty” he might’ve looked in that moment, he’s sure you looked a hundred times better. You always do, and you don’t even have to try. You’re the prettiest thing he’s ever seen, even in your worst moments. 

Or maybe it was the time you remembered his birthday when no one else did. January 25th; all his friends had taken off on their ski trips or tropical vacations, but you showed up to his apartment toting a cupcake and a single candle, belting a loud, out of tune rendition of ‘Happy Birthday’ until he shut you up with an impulsive kiss on the lips. You’d been surprised, but not so surprised you couldn’t kiss him back. Suna’s pretty sure most friends-with-benefits don’t do that sort of thing. They don’t sit across from each other at the kitchen table, splitting a vanilla cupcake and laughing over matching frosting mustaches. They don’t hug each other goodbye after two hours of scrolling through YouTube and nothing else, content to linger in that air of tentative familiarity and pseudo-friendship. 

Whatever the reason, whenever it happened, all Suna knows now is you’re more than just a fuck buddy. He doesn’t even want to associate the term with you — it feels disrespectful. He wishes he could just stop pretending. Stop pretending he doesn’t want you to be his. 

“Hey.” 

Suna grins at your low, throaty morning voice. It’s cute. 

“Hey,” he responds, reaching forward to flick your shoulder. “You slept in.” 

“Did I?” You blink the sleep from your eyes and squint at Suna’s bedside clock. 9:06. “Oh, shit. Shit, shit, shit.” 

You fly out of bed, wiggling into your jeans and tossing your hair into a careless ponytail before frantically scanning the room. “Have you seen my sweater anywhere?”

Suna exhales through his nose before getting up and walking over to his closet. “I hung it up last night so it wouldn’t be wrinkled.”

You freeze in your tracks, slowly turning with a teasing grin plastered on your face. “Oh? How considerate of you.”

Suna shrugs, avoiding your gaze. He feels a flush rise to cheeks and desperately hopes it doesn’t show. “Just being polite.”

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you had a little crush on me,” you crow before taking the sweater from the hanger and slipping it over your head. 

“You wish,” he snorts, but all he can think is you’re absolutely right. 

You ignore him and begin shoveling all your things into your purse: a compact mirror, lipstick, house keys. You glance at the clock again. “I’m gonna be so late to this lecture. Damn. Maybe I can text Aiko and ask her to record the first part for me.”

Suna raises an eyebrow. He remembers your friend Aiko from a party last year, before you and he began your… arrangement. She’s outgoing, friendly, and probably the flakiest person he’s ever met. “She’s not gonna do that. Just let me drive.”

“No, it’s fine,” you automatically brush him off, heading into the bathroom to splash your face with lukewarm water. “You probably have your own shit to take care of.”

Yeah, you, he thinks, but instead he says, “Not really. Plus, you’ll probably miss the whole thing if you try to bike to campus. Let me take you in the car. I’ll strap the bike onto the back.” 

You give him a look. “Are you sure, Rin?”

“It’s really not a big deal,” he says, throwing on a shirt. “Outside in five, and I’ll have you there by 9:30, easy.” 

After a few more weak protestations, you finally agree, and as he drives you to your university, he lets himself pretend you’re his girlfriend sitting there in the passenger seat. He turns on your favorite artist’s Spotify mix on the aux and smiles to himself when you hum along, watching the city fly past out the window. What he wouldn’t give for that reality, one where he can love you without all these restrictions, these tricky boundaries between friends and lovers. When you jump out of the car, calling a cheeky “I’ll text you!” over your shoulder, he pretends it’s an affectionate “I’ll see you for dinner tonight!” instead. He pretends that instead of rushing to get away from him and into the lecture hall, you kiss him on the forehead and squeeze his shoulder, reluctant to leave.

“Fuck me,” Suna says angrily before slamming his palm into the horn, scaring a few freshman walking to class. “And fuck you too!” 

He’s not sure who “you” is. Maybe the universe. 

No, Suna Rintarou doesn’t know why or how it happened, but he’s in too deep now. And he’s pretty damn sure you’ll never feel the same way. 

+

You slide into your seat beside Aiko just as the guest lecturer pulls up his power point, breathing out a sigh of relief. Aiko shoots you a grin, waggling her eyebrows. Suna? she mouths, and you roll your eyes, nodding nonetheless. Aiko can hardly wait until after the lecture to start pestering you about it. 

“So,” she says as you leave the auditorium together. “Did you tell him yet?” 

“Tell him what?” You dig in your bag for your water bottle, groaning when you remember leaving it on the edge of Suna’s sink last night. 

“Tell him that you’re in loooooove,” Aiko sings, nudging your shoulder. 

You scoff. “Okay, first of all, I don’t love him.”

“But you like him,” Aiko persists, and you hold up a finger. 

“And second of all, even if I did, I would never tell him.” You yawn, rubbing your eyes before realizing you hadn’t taken your makeup off and thus probably have awful raccoon eye bags. “He’s so out of my league it’s not even funny. It’s kind of pathetic for me to think he’d ever like me back.” 

Aiko scoffs. “If anything, you’re out of his league. You could pull any guy you wanted to. And when I say any, I mean any. Like, I bet you could even get Jake Gyllenhaal.” 

You laugh. “Why specifically Jake Gyllenhaal?”

Aiko shrugs. “Dunno. Just the first hot guy that came to mind. But forget him. My point is, Suna Rintarou is definitely yours for the taking. All you have to do is —”

“I know, I know,” you interrupt. “All I have to do is confess.” 

“Exactly,” says Aiko. Before she can open her mouth again, you cut in. 

“Okay, but listen, Aiko,” you say. “Suna’s the kind of guy who doesn’t let himself get attached. He fully admitted to me when we first hooked up that he’d never had a girlfriend. And that’s obviously not from lack of female interest. It’s because he doesn’t want one.”

“Or maybe it’s because he hasn’t found the right person yet.” Aiko starts heading towards the campus coffee shop, and you follow her. 

“Sure,” you say, getting in line. The cafe is crowded with students getting in their daily caffeination, inhaling sugary lattes and bitter espressos just to stay awake through their next class. Ah… college. “Or maybe he just. Doesn’t. Want. One.” 

Aiko keeps arguing all the way up until you reach the cash register, where you realize you haven’t even decided on what to order yet. 

“Hey there,” says the cashier, smiling sunnily. “What can I get for ya?” 

You blink. He’s attractive. Very attractive, actually. Bleach blonde, a crooked grin that screams trouble in the best sort of way. Miya, says the little name plate pinned to his shirt. “I, uhh…”

“Take your time,” he says leaning forward like he’s about to tell you a secret. “Between you and me, we have an excellent mocha latte. Not too sweet, y’know?”

You find your manners. “Oh, um, yeah. That sounds great, actually.” 

“One mocha latte, then?” he asks, picking up a cup, and you nod. “And to whom do I owe the pleasure of serving today?” 

When you tell him your name, he smiles to himself and scrawls it on the cup. “Pretty.”

You flush and pay, hands shaking a little when you slide your card down the side of the machine. The cashier notices and shoots you a knowing look. Five minutes later, when you pick up your drink from the other side of the counter, you see not only your name written on the lid, but a phone number, too, along with a tiny winking face. 

“What’d I tell you?” exclaims Aiko shrily when you leave the shop. “Any. Guy. Period.” 

You shake your head in exasperation, but you can’t help but throw a final glance over your shoulder, meeting the eyes of the cute cashier one more time. Maybe Aiko does have a point. 

+

That weekend, Suna’s stretched out on his couch, dangling his feet over the armrest and staring up at the ceiling. It’s one of those lazy Saturday afternoons, and usually he’d be enjoying his alone time. Not today, though. Today there’s something — someone — on his mind, and that someone is spelled y-o-u. His phone pings, and he snatches it up with embarrassing speed, groaning when he sees it’s just Atsumu. 

“Bastard,” he mutters, not even bothering to open the message. Probably just asking for the O-chem lab answers. 

Suna rolls over onto his stomach, pulling up your contact name. What he really wants to do is see you, but how is he supposed to do that without sounding weirdly desperate? Hey, he types out. Wanna come over and watch a movie? He pauses for a moment before adding, Pizza’s on me. 

He buries his face in his hands and deletes the text. That makes it sound like he’s asking you out. Well, that’s what he does want to do, but you can’t know that. He’s fairly certain if you knew how he felt about you, you’d freak out. Girls don’t like to be tied down, he reminds himself. Suna groans again, grabbing two fistfuls of hair in irritation. 

“Why are women so complicated?” he says aloud, letting the words echo in his empty apartment. He takes a couple seconds to close his eyes, take a deep breath, and unlock his phone again, this time settling on a simple Come over. Short, sweet, and to the point. Well, not exactly. That makes it sound like all he wants to do is sleep together, when he’d really rather just… talk. Spend time with you. 

“Oh, God,” he mutters. “I’m so done for.” 

It takes what seems like forever for you to arrive, breathless from biking, hair slightly mussed. Suna grins, biting his lip. You’re so beautiful, he thinks, pulling you in for a hungry kiss. Even if all he can get is the sex, then he’s sure as hell going to appreciate it. You smell like lavender laundry detergent, he notices when you press yourself into him, fumbling to close the door behind you without breaking the kiss. 

“Well, hello there,” you laugh when he finally breaks away and draws in a shaking breath. “Somebody’s eager.”

Suna rolls his eyes. “As if. You just took so long to get here.” 

You cock an eyebrow. “You texted me like half an hour ago.”

“Yeah, and you’re half an hour too late.”

You snort and hurl a pillow from the sofa at him. He catches it and smiles, taking your wrist and drawing you in for another messy, open-mouthed kiss.

“Sorry that I don’t have the power of teleportation,” you quip, laughing when he pulls you into the bedroom. Suna resolves to take his time with you today, undressing you carefully, trailing his lips down your sternum and collarbones, grinning to himself whenever you gasp. He almost catches himself saying “I love you” at one point as you cling to him, mumbling his name, but he placates himself with kissing you extra hard at the end instead, pulling you into his chest and falling back into the pillows. 

Usually, you’d take a few minutes to lay in silence, tracing shapes in his skin, and he’d lean back with closed eyes, imagining what it would be like to be loved by you. Slow early morning kisses, skin on skin, whispering and giggling and everything cheesy he used to hate but now wishes he could experience with you. Today, though, you peel yourself off of him and grab your phone as soon as it buzzes, fingers flying in response to whoever had texted you.

“New boy toy?” he jokes, almost choking when you don’t immediately say no. Oh, shit. “You’re kidding.”

“Just a guy I met the other day,” you say casually. Suna stares, slack jawed. “Works at the coffee shop near the quad.” 

“Coffee shop?” He furrows his brow. Doesn’t he know someone who works there? He internally scowls, digging into the back of his brain. Aran? Osamu? 

“Mm,” you say, suppressing a smile as the nameless suitor sends another text. “His name’s Atsumu Miya.”

Suna’s heart nearly falls right out of his chest and cracks at his feet. “No.”

You look up, raising an eyebrow. “No?”

“Not him,” Suna says, forgetting himself, forgetting the nature of your relationship. 

“I didn’t realize you were in charge of who I can and cannot be interested in,” you say bitingly. 

Suna sits up. “I’m not. It’s just, Atsumu… he’s not your type.” 

“You know him?”

“Yeah,” Suna says, thinking back on his days observing the Miya twins’ antics. “He’s not your kind of guy, trust me.”

“Pray tell then,” you say. Oh, fuck. You’re irritated. “Who exactly is my kind of guy?” 

Me, he thinks. I’m your kind of guy. “I don’t know. Just trust me though, okay? Atsumu… he’s difficult.” 

“Thanks, Suna,” you say, tone tinged with sarcasm. Suna cringes. You only ever call him by his surname when you’re upset with him. “But I think I can go out with whoever I want to go out with.” 

“Fine.” The word tumbles out more harshly than he’d meant it to. 

You stare at him in disbelief. “What, are you mad at me or something?” 

Suna exhales heavily. “No, I’m not mad. It’s not like we’re dating or anything. I just wanted to give you a little guidance. As your friend.” 

“As my friend?” you repeat. “My friend?”

Now it’s Suna's turn to be confused. “Are we not friends?”

“I don’t know, Suna,” you say, swinging your legs over the side of the bed, pulling your clothes on. “You tell me.” 

“I’m not sure what you want me to say here,” he says, watching as you struggle to pull your shorts back on. He knows what he wants to say. No, we’re not friends. We should be together. Isn’t it obvious? 

You huff, grabbing your bag and the water bottle you’d left behind the other day. “You know, I don’t really know either. Forget I ever said anything. I guess I just thought…” 

You trail off and shake your head, heading towards the door. Suna scrambles out of bed to follow you, pulling on his pants as he hops down the hall on one leg. “What’s that?” 

“I said forget it,” you call over your shoulder, trying to slam the door, but Suna catches your wrist. As you stare up at him, he thinks he sees your lip quivering, eyes shining with half-formed tears. “Let me go.” 

“I’m serious,” Suna says. “What did you think?” 

You draw in a deep breath, and for a second, Suna thinks you’re about to say the words he’s always wanted you to say. Then you look away. “Let. Me. Go.” 

Slowly, Suna releases you from his grasp, and you stumble backwards, wiping your eyes on your sleeve. 

“Don’t call me.”

“Wait, no —”

“Don’t call me, Suna!” you say loudly, before turning on your heel and speed walking down the stairs. 

Oh. Oh. Suna stares in shock at the place you were just standing on his doorstep. “Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.” 

When he heads back inside, head empty but for the single thought, I’ve just lost the best thing that ever happened to me, he glances at his phone on the counter. In an instant, he’s opening up his messages, pulling up Atsumu’s. 

Met a cute girl LOL. Gonna bring her to that party on Friday. 

Then, in a separate bubble — Btw: chem answers? 

+

“And then he called me his friend,” you say angrily, handing Aiko the box of Oreos. The two of you are sprawled on the floor of her dorm room. “Just like we were two bros who got together to play XBox every once in a while, instead of two people who had literally just banged.” 

Aiko takes a cookie before handing them back to you. “Asshole.”

“I mean, I know technically we were ‘friends with benefits,’” you say, stuffing an Oreo in your mouth. “But I guess I thought we could be something more. I thought there was no way he could kiss me like that, look at me like that without feeling something. Guess I was wrong.” 

“Screw him,” Aiko says. “You’ve got boys lined up around the block, and he thinks he can treat you like rubbish? Absolute bullshit.”

“I don’t have boys ‘lined up around the block,’” you remind her, smiling regardless. “Just one.”

“And that one is hella cute!” Aiko says. “You’re way too cool to pine over some guy who thinks you’ll just answer his every beck and call without even committing to a relationship.” 

You sigh. “Yeah, you’re right. It’s just… ack. I don’t know. Am I jumping to conclusions? He seemed like he wanted to talk to me more, but I kind of stormed off without saying anything.” 

“Seems like he was pretty clear,” Aiko says with a shrug. “Your call, though. If I were you, I’d forget about him. Plus, you have Atsumu now. That’s a promising route.” 

You smile down at the Oreos, thinking about the cheery bottle blonde. “Yeah… he invited me to a party this coming Friday.” 

Aiko gives you a look and nudges your knee with her own. “You’d better wear that black dress.”

“You think?” you laugh, momentarily forgetting about Suna. 

“Oh, definitely. Gotta look your best on the first date.” 

“Right, and then after that I can just dress like a bum,” you joke. You purse your lips. “Rin might be there. Apparently he and Atsumu are pretty close.” 

“Even better,” insists Aiko. “Make him suffer a little bit. He won’t like seeing you all dolled up on Atsumu Miya’s arm.” 

“I’m not gonna try to make him jealous, Aiko,” you say, and Aiko shakes her head.

“No, I just think he needs to understand what he lost,” she says. “You don’t even have to pay attention to him at all, though. You should try and get to know Atsumu a little better.”

“Yeah, okay,” you say, before reaching down for another cookie. “Oh. We’re out.”

“Gas station run?”

“Gas station run.” 

+

When Friday rolls around, you’ve successfully managed to avoid thinking about Suna the entire day. You have a calculus exam in the morning, and then a club meeting in the afternoon, and by the time you get done with everything it’s already time to get ready to leave for the party. It’s across town at someone’s loft apartment, so Atsumu offers to give you a ride, rolling up in a shiny Lexus, a sharp contrast from Suna’s old Chevy. 

“Hey,” he says, getting out to open the door for you. “You look great.”

“You don’t look too bad yourself,” you say. “Although, I might prefer the work uniform.”

“Oh, please,” Atsumu says with a grin. “That apron does nothing to flatter my figure.” 

“Mhm.” The ride there is a slightly awkward one, but that’s normal, you tell yourself. You’ve gotten so used to the easy, teasing camaraderie you and Suna have that you’re rusty in regards to flirting. Atsumu has a different sense of humor, too, nothing like the dry sarcasm Suna’s such an expert in. You shake your head. Stop thinking about him. 

Even sitting next to a new guy, you can’t help but run last weekend’s drama over in your head. The past few months have been a jumble of mixed signals, and last Saturday was no different. How he tenderly brushed your hair from your face as he hovered over you, how he pulled you into his arms afterwards … how he seemed almost jealous when you mentioned Atsumu. Was it really jealousy? Exactly how much does Suna Rintarou care for you? You roll the numbers inside your head, trying to quantify the soft touches and lingering stares. He’s not easy to read; trying to understand Suna is like trying to decipher Greek without ever taking a single class. 

Even trying to get a measure on how much you care for him is difficult. You definitely like him as more than a friend. The only reason you agreed to the whole friends-with-benefits thing in the first place was because of a little crush that grew, that fed on that intimacy… but you’re not so sure now. 

“Here we are,” says Atsumu, jolting you from your contemplation as he pulls up alongside the curb. When you climb out of the car, he takes you by the hand, flashing you a quick smile. Your heart trips over itself, and you smile back. “Let’s do this.” 

+

Suna doesn’t show up to the party. He spends most of Friday busying himself at home, paying off a couple electricity bills, cleaning out the fridge. He even does a load of laundry. That’s how bored he is. By the time the clock strikes eight, he feels as though he’s Swiffered every single kitchen tile, folded every shirt, and wiped down every counter in the entire apartment, all to avoid stewing over you and him and all the ways he keeps messing up. But after doing everything on his to-do list and watching a movie and cooking his own dinner (unheard of!) he finds himself pacing around the living room, biting at his nails and thinking about you. More specifically, you and Atsumu. He hopes you’re not wearing that little dress you wore to the club with him a couple months ago. Not that you don’t look great in it — you do, and that’s the issue. The better you look, the more likely Suna will never get a chance to be with you again. 

To be fair, he’s not entirely sure how much of a chance he’s ever had with you. You’re incredible, plain and simple. Gorgeous, intelligent, the best player two on every video game he’s ever played with you. You’re not especially adept at the games themselves; no, there’s just something about you. There’s always just been something about you he can’t seem to find anywhere else. 

“Damn it,” Suna grunts aloud, flopping down on the couch. It’s nearing half past eleven now. He wonders what you’re doing. Dancing to some shitty music in some crowded living room. Sipping a can of cheap liquor. Letting Atsumu touch your waist, his hand dipping lower and lower until — 

Suna buries his face in the couch cushion. He’s usually not one to let his imagination run away with him, but tonight seems to be one of many recent exceptions. If only there was a way to know where he stands with you, or at least where you stand with Atsumu…

Well, there is a way, actually. Almost of its own accord, his hand inches towards his phone, sliding it open and somehow finding its way into his Snapchat. Fingers shaking, Suna clicks on Osamu’s story. It’s dimly lit, a mass of bodies, loud, drunk guys and scantily clad girls. The music is too loud, even through the phone. Suna squints at the screen — there’s Aran, even Kita’s there, quietly sitting in the corner, but no sight of — Suna’s eyes nearly pop out of his head. Because there you are, and you’re not alone. You’re sitting on Atsumu’s lap, but he can’t see your expression because Atsumu is kissing you sloppily, and — oh, God — it looks like you’re kissing him back. 

And you’re wearing the fucking dress. 

“Damn,” Osamu says in the background. “Looks like he’s getting some tonight.”

Suna throws his phone across the room like it’s a grenade, staring down at his empty hands in disbelief. This can’t be happening. Not to him. Not to you. 

For the first time, Suna Rintarou thinks he understands what it really means to want someone. Not in a sexual way, but in the deepest sense of the word. Want. He wants you, and he’s pretty sure he’s never wanted anyone or anything quite so much in his life. 

All of a sudden, before his brain even has a chance to catch up, Suna finds himself shrugging on a jacket and snatching his keys from the table, dashing out the door like he’s being chased. If he leaves now, he thinks, starting the car and nearly slamming the door on his foot, he can get to the party before you leave. And then, well, then he’s not quite sure what he’ll do, but he’ll do something. 

Again, though, it seems as if the universe might be against him, because there’s an accident on the highway and it takes twice as long to get across town as it should. Suna cusses loudly over the incessant honking and chews on the inside of his cheek until it bleeds. When the traffic lets up and he finally pulls up to the apartment complex, parallel parking in a spot that’s probably illegal, he races up the stairs and into the loft, grabbing the first partygoer he sees. The poor kid’s plastered beyond belief and stares at Suna like he’s an extraterrestrial, eyes glassy.

“You see a girl leave here? ‘Bout this tall, probably left with some douchey looking blonde dude?” 

The kid blinks, hard and slow, before nodding. “Yeah, man, you just missed her. That your chick or somethin’? Because she was sucking face with —” 

Suna spins on his heel before the kid gets a chance to finish his sentence. He’s lucky Suna doesn’t deck him the head, he’s so irritated. 

“Sucking face,” he mumbles, climbing back into the car. He has the route to your house memorized (although he’s not sure how), and he’s pretty sure he breaks about twenty traffic laws trying to get there, so it takes significantly less time to arrive, but to Suna, it feels like an eternity. How did he ever sleep soundly at night knowing other guys had a shot at you before this? He doesn’t know, and he hopes he never has to worry about it again. Not after tonight. 

He gets there just as Atsumu’s pulling out of the driveway. Suna flashes him a mental middle finger and resolves to kick his ass later. No time for that right now. You’re still standing on the front porch, and when Suna stumbles out of the car, you turn towards him, mouth agape. 

“Rin? What are you—”

“Give me a chance.” He’s breathless, eyes wide and hair whipping around his face in the cool breeze. His heartbeat pounds in his ears like it’s about to burst blood vessels.

“Huh?”

“Give me a chance,” he repeats, reaching forward to take your hand. Your palm is cold against his. “I can do so much better, I promise.” 

You furrow your brows. “What in the world are you talking about, Rin?”

The dam breaks. The dam breaks, and everything — the longing, the frustration, everything — comes pouring out in a waterfall of rushing words he doesn’t even have time to think over before they splash at your feet.

“I can do so much better than Atsumu. He doesn’t know you. I know you, and I, well, I’ve liked you since forever, okay? I know your favorite color and your birthday and which Chinese place you like to get takeout from on Saturday nights.” Suna clears his throat. “I know that you like to be hugged from behind and that you hate it when people see you cry. I know so many things about you, and I want to know more.” 

“Rin—”

He holds up a hand. “Just listen. I know we’re just fuck buddies, or friends with benefits, or whatever the hell you want to call it, but I want to change that. You mean so much more to me than the sex. God, even if we never slept together again, I would still love you.” 

You stare at him. “Love?”

Suna swallows hard. “Yeah, fuck it. Love. I love you. Whatever that means to you, it means to me. I love your stupid jokes and your stupid laugh. To be honest, I’m so in love it feels like I’ll never love anyone else.”

He stops to take a deep breath and a shaky laugh. “Pathetic, right? I know it is. I can’t help it. I’m well aware that Atsumu is way more charming and outgoing, and I was probably wrong when I said he wasn’t your type… but I just need to know if I have even the smallest chance of winning you over.” 

There’s a beat of silence. Then another one. You’re gazing at him, head cocked, and the seconds tick by. He still has your hand in his, growing warmer via body heat. Suna feels himself grow increasingly nervous at your expression, curious and almost apathetic — until a wide smile breaks across your face. You laugh, and he thinks it must be the best sound he’s ever heard. 

“You weren’t wrong.”

“What?”

“He’s not my type,” you say. “We didn’t click.” 

“But — I saw, uh — Osamu’s story,” Suna stammers. “Sucking face.”

“Sucking face?” You squint in confusion before chuckling again. “Ah. Yeah, I kissed him. It was part of some stupid game. He’s kind of bad at it.” 

“Atsumu’s a bad kisser?” 

“Well,” you say, drawing the word out. “I wouldn’t say bad. It’s just… you’re better.” 

Suna’s silent for a second, letting the words ricochet around his brain. He’s better. He’s a better kisser. It was just a game. You’re not into Atsumu. “So… does that mean…?” 

“I love you, too.” You smile, and it’s not like your usual cocky grin. It’s sweet and almost… shy. 

“You love me, too?” Suna repeats in utter shock. He hadn’t expected to get this far.

“That’s what I just said,” you say. “What are you, a parrot? Speaking of which, though, I think that whole speech was the most I’ve ever heard you talk.” 

Suna doesn’t respond. Instead, he takes a step closer and pulls you in for a hug. A real hug, not like the hesitant embrace you’d given him on his birthday, or the side hug he gave you after running into you at the grocery market a few weeks ago. No, this is a true, bona fide hug, and he translates everything he’s ever wanted to tell you but couldn’t into his arms wrapping around your waist. 

“So… wanna come in and watch a movie?” 

+

A little while later, Suna’s stretched out on your mattress with you between his legs, chin resting on the top of your head. You’ve changed out of your dress and wiped the makeup from your face, and Suna catches you yawning in the corner of his eye. There’s a trashy romcom droning on your laptop at the foot of the bed. To any outside onlooker, the scene is mundane, just a typical couple enjoying each other’s company. To Suna, though, this is paradise. 

It’s almost funny. It’s funny how, a week ago, Suna was a boy pining for a girl he thought he had no chance with. He looked at you and saw something unattainable, someone who would only ever want him temporarily. (And, unbeknownst to him, you felt the same way.) He experienced an overwhelming amount of want, heart knotting in on itself and twisting and turning until it pushed him over the edge, forcing him to confront his own desires. His own inadequacies. 

It’s funny how love is what everyone longs for, but it’s also the hardest reward to earn. It’s the most uncomfortable, heart-wrenching, nerve-wracking, anxiety-inducing pathway to happiness Suna’s ever seen. But still… he’d do it all over again if he had to. The months of headaches, the overthinking. It’s worth it. You’re worth it. 

Oh, well. What can he say? Suna leans down and presses a featherlight kiss to your temples, and you tilt your head up to smile at him. Love’s a funny thing. 

Fortunately, Suna’s always down for a good joke.

[yourmidnightlover]

Dreams of Iris - Chapter 4

chapter 4 - reality check

series masterlist

spencer reid x fem!reader

series overview: when introduced by penelope, reader and spencer take on a sexual bdsm relationship. secrets are discovered as time goes by. what happens when they both try to discover who the other is within themselves?

series warnings: bdsm themes, smut (rough sex, penetrative sex, spitting, choking, cum play, fingering, oral (male and female receiving), bondage, overstimulation, edging, grinding, thigh riding, handjob, aftercare), talk about/illuding to previous abusive relationship, angst, crying. this series is 18+

chapter summary: spencer spends the day helping you out at the shop and learns a bit more about you and your past.

chapter warnings: face fucking, oral (m), teasing (spencer), heavy petting, kissing. *please let me know if i missed something*

A/N: hiiiii :) i’ve been a bit mia. mental health is tough and boyfriends (now ex) suck. i’m not sure how active i’ll be but this has been in my drafts for a while and i’ve been trying to finish it. inspiration is few and far between nowadays but we’ll prevail. anyway, i’m sorry for being gone for so long. i love you all and all of the support you’ve given me. with love, jay <3

as the sun streamed in through his curtains, you gently stirred awake from the melodious ringing of your alarm. you reached out to the bedside table your phone rested on and turned the alarm off before turning to face spencer.

he looked so peaceful while he slept. there weren’t any worry lines or furrowed brows. he was just there. calm. you could only hope he felt like this more often, perhaps, if you were lucky enough, he would feel like that if he were with you more often.

his arm was wrapped around your waist as you stroked the hair out of his face. your thumb traced his cheekbones down to his lips before you connected yours with his. you felt him smile into the kiss as he deepened it before he pulled back.

“good morning to you too, angel,” he whispered in his morning voice, the low grogginess exciting you more than you’d care to admit.

“hi,” you smiled as you traced your hands to his shoulders, gently applying pressure that made his eyes shut once more.

“th’feels good,” he sighed as he melted into your hands’ pressure.

“i have to get up,” while keeping the pressure from your hands, you continued to massage his achy muscles.

he placed his hands atop yours, “no…” he groaned. “just stay for a little longer?”

“i have a bookstore to run,” you chuckled as he took your hands in his and reopened his eyes as he pressed them to his lips.

“what if…” he trailed off with a sinister grin. “what if i came with you? i’ll be like your assistant.”

“spencer, you’re supposed to be on sabbatical, not working for someone else and taking on their stress,” you tried to reason as you wiggled out of his arms, throwing on the clothes he managed to put in the wash before you passed out last night.

“i wouldn’t really be working so much as keeping you at arms length?” he demonstrated as he grasped your arm and brought you down onto his lap. “i just want to be around you all the time,” he rested his chin on your shoulder.

“alright,” you sighed as you leaned your head against his chest. “but i’m not paying you.”

“i wouldn’t have it any other way,” he pressed a kiss to the bare skin on your neck, trailing behind your ear.

“i-i have to be there at 8:30 so i can open at 9:00,” you breathed out to give him a timeframe.

“that gives us over an hour to… play?,” he nibbled on tour earlobe, causing a shudder to radiate through your body.

“mmm,” you nodded. “i like the sound of that,” you turned on his lap so you were straddling him. “what’d you plan on doing?”

“i could…” he trailed his hands down your arms until he grasped your wrists, “tie these behind your back while i use that pretty little mouth of yours,” he smiled as he leant in to kiss you.

you were practically purring into his mouth as his tongue met with yours. you got off his lap temporarily as he got into his closet to open his chest of toys. out of said chest came a purple nylon cloth. he toyed it between his fingers as he made his way back to where you were sitting.

“turn around, angel,” he smirked as you immediately flipped for him, presenting your hands already bound together in wait. “already being such a good girl for me? i hope this behavior continues.”

you waited patiently as he tied your hands behind your back before he pulled you onto the ground. you fell to your knees and bit your lip as you looked up at the man who stood before you with wide eyes.

“so precious, my sweet angel,” his hand cupped your face before he began undoing his belt in front of you.

rubbing your thighs together in anticipation, spencer chuckled from above you at your eagerness to only please him. once he finally released himself from his trousers, you maintained eye contact with him as he stroked himself a few times. when he looked back down at you, seeing that your eyes hadn’t left his, he let his free hand stroke your cheek once more.

“ready?” you nodded eagerly. “words. i need verbal confirmation that you want this. prove to me that you want this. i need to be convinced.”

“oh, please, sir,” you adjusted yourself on your knees so your heel would grind down perfectly on your clit. “please fuck my face? i want it so, so bad. please, just-just let me please you.”

“such an eager little pup, aren’t we, y/n?” he trailed his hand to the back of your head before he yanked your hair back, forcing you to face the ceiling. 

“only for you, sir,” you breathed out before repeating, “pl-please, sir?”

and with that, he shoved his cock in front of your face. a bright smile filled your face, one of satisfaction and excitement. spencer knew he would give you anything you asked for - whether you knew it or not. perhaps if he gave you everything he possibly could it would make up for who he truly was as a person. those places in which he lacked like social ques and confidence. maybe his generosity and need to give you everything you could ever want would overshadow the shadows of his past he tries to hide from everyone, including you.

you opened your mouth expectantly, wanting him to make the first move. you were rather disappointed when he only placed his erect dick on your tongue, but you adapted nonetheless. you closed your mouth around his member and lightly sucked while your tongue traced the bottom of his dick. as you began to bounce your head back and forth on his dick, his hand in your hair gripped a bit tighter. 

“fuck,” he lightly huffed out as he threw his head back for a moment before remembering that he didn’t want to miss a second of watching you in such a state. “you’re doing so good, making me feel so good.”

he began to lightly fuck your face, still giving you a little bit of control before he took over completely. you let your jaw go slack, giving him all reins to do whatever he pleased. his hips began to thrust into your mouth rapidly, his other hand finding the opposite side of your head to help guide himself in and out. your jaw was starting to become a bit sore, but you refused to do anything about it. he just looked too godly to disrupt his pleasure. there was a light sheen of sweat over his chest and lining his hair as he kept his eyes trained on the way his cock was going in and out of your mouth. 

“such a little cock slut, huh?” you moaned around his cock. “that’s it,” he chuckled. “you take it so well, angel.” 

at this point, there was saliva dripping down your cheeks onto your neck and chest as well as tears building behind your waterline, threatening to spill out and decorate your cheekbones. with every thrust, you felt him hit the back of your throat. the only sounds in the room were moans and the sound of you gagging on his dick. it sounded glorious.

“i’m close,” he spoke up before his hips increased speed. “where-fuck-where do you want it?” he asked, ever the gentleman.

your only response was forcing yourself even further down on his cock.

“message received, my angel,” he chuckled before making eye contact with you once more time as he hit the back of your throat one more time, the tears building behind the wall finally falling over. “fuck!” he groaned, refusing to break eye contact with you as he thrusted into your mouth a few more times.

you immediately swallowed his release, opening your mouth after he removed his dick to prove that you did so. 

“ahh,” you presented your throat with a faint smirk decorating your lips. 

“fuck,” he gently grasped your face and connected your lips to his passionately. “you’re amazing,” he whispered before kissing you once again as he untied your hands.

“thank you,” you smiled against his lips as he massaged your wrists, looking down at them to make sure there wasn’t any bruising.

“let me make you some coffee? that might help with your throat,” he grimaced lightly upon imagining the soreness of it. 

“oh, i can make it if you want?” you offered, not wanting him to feel as though he had to take care of you. 

“that’s alright, angel,” he furrowed his brows for a short second, not wanting you to see him so confused. “i just abused your throat, let me take care of you?”

“mmmkay,” you nodded with a small smile before you sat on the bed as he went to make the coffee.

looking to the in table, you noticed that the clock read 6:45. you still had quite a while before you had to be at the shop, so you browsed the books decorating the surface of the mahogany wood. after finding a book suffice to your curiosity, you ran your hand along the spine, admiring the wear and tear of the old copy of pride and prejudice.

spencer had never struck you as one who would read such romance novels, he seemed to be one who enjoyed historical or science fiction more than this genre. often times, you’ve found that guys who visit your bookstore tend to make fun of such novels. they would always make remarks of how “unrealistic” and “far-fetched” the idea of a perfect man is, as if that’s what each of the novels were meant to portray.

each novel isn’t about a woman finding the perfect man and living happily ever after. it’s about finding a man who has flaws and recognizes them. it’s about him recognizing her flaws and loving her, not in spite of them, but because she has them. they would face trails and tribulations but instead of letting the pressure get to them and crush their relationship, they work through them and make themselves stronger.

so, no, it’s not about finding the perfect man and living the perfect life for the rest of eternity. it’s about the complete opposite. finding somebody who’s willing to work through disagreements is much harder than finding the perfect man, because people can change who they appear to be. it’s their spirit that can’t be fabricated as easily.

“reading now, are we?” he greeted as he leaned against the door, two mugs of steaming coffee in his hands.

“merely admiring your choice in literature,” you grinned as you closed the cover of the book, placing it in its rightful spot.

“pride and prejudice?” he asked as he made his way to your spot on the bed, handing you your cup. “it’s a classic. how could i not enjoy jane austen’s writings? sense and sensibility is one i’ve loved since my mother began reading to me when i was young.”

“how old were you?” he sat beside you on the bed, allowing you to rest your head on his shoulder.

“almost 7?” he questioned himself as he began to stroke your hair.

“you were seven when your mother read you sense and sensibility?” you chuckled before looking up at him.

“my mother wanted me to get a sense of good writings when i was young. she taught 15th century literature,” he informed you.

“i suppose she wasn’t too far off in the timing,” you added before grasping his chin in your index and thumb, forcing him to look down at you once more.

“i really want to kiss you again,” he whispered, as if you wouldn’t want him to kiss you.

“please do,” you mumbled as you closed the distance between your lips.

they danced together as they have many times before, finding that synchronization that made it feel as though you were made for each other. his hands grasping your waist moved you on top of his hips gracefully, something you’ve never been too good about. you sighed into his mouth when he gently sucked on your bottom lip, your hips rutted forward as a reflex to get some friction.

“we have to get ready, pretty girl,” he smiled when you followed after his lips, followed by a small pout. “hey,” he tutted. “if you’re good i’ll make sure you get a real treat tonight, yea?”

“mhmm,” you grinned as you wrapped your arms around his neck, effectively pressing your mouth against his one more time. “that sounds nice.”

“alright, so let’s get ready,” he announced as he slowly got up from the bed, tapping your thighs before he went into the bathroom.

-

once you had opened the shop, spencer had become quite the apprentice. he followed you around as he picked up on how you processed the books, did the company logs, assisted customers who needed recommendations, and just running your bookstore.

you were great.

with adults, books, children, organizing, everything. it’s like you were somehow perfect at everything you did. spencer knew it wasn’t true, it’s impossible to be perfect. but if anything came close to being impossible it was you.

the way you held yourself around snappy customers who didn’t have time to look around or demanded to speak to someone knew was astounding. had anyone else been in your shoes, they wouldn’t have been able to cope with everything.

as you carefully fixed an old, well-loved book with a gentle glue, he admired how precise you were with it. you carefully took your bone folder and spread the sticky substance on the spine as evenly as could be imagined. you carefully placed a large rubber band over the book to keep it pressed tightly together and set it aside to move on to the next book.

it was precision and focus and spencer couldn’t help but admire you as he sat from afar, “reading” his own book.

“when did you learn how to fix a book’s binding?” spencer spoke up as he walked over to the counter you were stationed at.

“uhm,” you sighed as you tried to think back to when you learned the skill. “when i was really young i would read the same books over and over again and eventually the spines would wear down, so i learned how to fix them myself. i think i was around 12?”

“most people would just throw the books away,” spencer added.

“i don’t think you should ever throw books away,” you shook your head. “they’re like little worlds all in themselves. if you throw one away you’re throwing away the creativity and lives of each character. besides, my family didn’t have enough money to be throwing books away just because they were read so often,” you shrugged as you placed your elbows on the counter, your head resting in your hands. “if anything, that’s more of a reason to keep them around.”

“my mother has a similar outlook on books, the same one, i believe,” spencer smiled as he picked up one of the now fixed books. “it’s amazing. i love how patient you are with them. it takes such skill and precision.”

“it’s just how i do things i suppose,” you ran your hand through your hair. “i’m just used to it now. sometimes i get so far into the zone that i don’t even realize when it’s closing time.”

“you’re such a gentle soul,” he chuckled a bit as he said it. “incredibly humble as well. you’re amazing.”

you blushed as he paid you such a heartfelt compliment. it had been a while since anyone had paid such close attention to you, let alone complimented you so tenderly. you knew better than to get used to it, though. before you knew it not only would the compliments be gone but so would spencer.

“oh, uh, thank you?” you laughed a bit in return to hide the awkwardness in your voice.

you knew spencer was a profiler. of course he would pick up on the hesitation in your voice. whose to say he would even care so much to analyze anything though? you were just friends who were occasionally intimate with one another. you meant nothing to him, not really. you’ve been burned before in the past and now you knew better than to imagine someone cares more about you than they do.

this time you weren’t young and naive. this time you didn’t expect him to give you the world. this time all that you did expect was a friend and an occasional fuck. no biggie.

“it was a compliment,” he smiled, just figuring it was your inability to accept a compliment resurfacing.

eventually he would make sure you were content with receiving compliments. he would ensure that you were comfortable in your skin. you deserved to like who you are and realize that other people see the amazing person you are. it would simply just take time. but he was willing to help any second he got.

the little smile that you tried to fight off your face lightened his heart. he knew you were a bit insecure. you doubted yourself and what you meant to others, possibly because of someone from your past. mother, sibling, father, perhaps? that would take a bit more sleuthing. for you, he was willing to do most anything.

the rest of the day at the bookstore flew by with conversation that simply flowed. everything was natural with the two of you, something that neither of you expected but welcomed with warm smiled that were exchanged between the two of you.

when closing time came spencer had decided to grab the two of you some coffee. spencer greeted you with the warm liquid as you were locking the door. you accepted it with the brightest grin.

“ugh it’s amazing,” you groaned. “i like the coffee i can make in my little office but… i mean nothing compares to this,” you held the coffee tenderly with both hands as if it were the most important drink you had ever had the honor of consuming, spencer thought it was the cutest thing in the world.

“i would get you a million of those coffees if it always makes you so happy,” he chuckled a bit of you squinted your eyes at him, a bit embarrassed.

“sorry,” you rolled your eyes playfully. “coffee is just my second love language.”

“coffee is a language in itself.”

“jackie chan,” the two of you said in unison, breaking into a fit of laughter.

“y’know i really enjoy our little sleepovers,” spencer broke the giggles. “i like waking up next to you. it just makes sleeping… easier, i guess? i actually feel rested when i sleep next to you. and i haven’t felt like that in a while.”

“oh uhhh… really?” you asked as you began walking towards the car.

“i guess there’s a dual meaning to your nickname, angel,” he nudged your shoulder gently. “but, yea, really. it’s like you’re my personal dream catcher. i don’t think i’ve ever been as well-rested as when i’m with you.”

“we’ll, i’m glad to be if service,” you tried once again to not get your hopes up, rather deflecting the warm hearted statement.

“y/n,” he sighed as he stepped into the passenger seat. “why do you do that?”

“do what?” you acted as if you didn’t know what he was talking about, which was stupid to do in the first place.

“please,” he pleaded as you began driving, almost the perfect excuse to not look him in the eye. “y/n …”

“look, we can just talk about whatever that is later when i’m not driving,” you began. “driving takes a lot of focus and i don’t know if i can have a serious conversation while driving unless you want us to crash,” rambling was a strong suit of yours.

he accepted defeat and rode in silence for the rest of the drive back to your place.

-

a few weeks had gone by and the two of you hung out often. he would help repair old books while you organized them. he would also run coffee errands anytime you needed it, or anytime he just wanted to see you take a break and smile. often you would have sleepovers where things would escalate quite a bit, but you haven’t had sex yet. not penetrative, well, not with each other specifically. only with the toys.

it was another one of your usual hangout sessions after a long day at work. you had just finished takeout and a bowl of ice cream when you had decided you wanted to just relax on the couch.

the entire relaxed evening was spencer’s idea. he knew your moms birthday was coming up, and he knew how hard that was for you. you and your mom weren’t very close anymore after your last relationship. you hadn’t explained much to him about it all, and he accepted that. he simply wanted to make you smile a bit more.

so, he picked up takeout and your favorite dessert on his way to your place. little did you know he had also gotten you a fuzzy little blanket and a trinket that he was holding in his pants pocket.

as soon as spencer sat back, you tentatively sat on his lap, your thighs straddling is legs. you gently kissed his right cheek, then left, trailing down to his neck as your fingers began to work on his shirt.

“what’s this for?” he sighed, simply enjoying your touch in the moment.

“hmmm,” you hummed against his skin. “for being you,” you nipped at his collarbone as he shrugged off his shirt.

“i’m not one to complain,” he breathed out once more as you both moved to lay down on the couch.

you moved back up to kissing his cheek when he gently grasped your face, moving his lips to meet yours. they tenderly moved in sync with one another, both wanting more of each other. but this time, there was no rush. you were simply taking in each others presence and relishing in it. you had all the time in the world and you planned to use it to your advantage.

his hands reached for the hem of your shirt, gently moving it up your body and off of your shoulders, happily shrugging it off. his hands explored your torso, not to get himself off but in order to memorize every inch of you. every inch he wanted to lavish, and prove how amazing you truly are.

you moved your hands between the two of you and began working at his belt as he undid the button on your jeans. you had just removed the belt when you felt a box in his jeans. you didn’t want to pry so you simply moved on, but he gently guided your hand inside of his jeans and pulled out the box.

“open it,” he urged you with a sinister grin.

“… what is it? should i be worried?” you bit your lower lip.

“no, no,” he smiled. “it’s something i’ve been meaning to give you, i just didn’t have the right time. but now is as good a time as any.”

you squinted your eyes at him before opening the box, revealing a necklace with a pendant. on said pendant was the phrase “my angel” in spencer’s signature chicken scratch.

your eyes welled with tears as you began holding the box with two hands. he reached up to grasp your cheeks as the tears began to overflow.

“hey, don’t cry,” he pleaded. “this was a happy gift, not a sad one.”

“they’re happy tears,” you looked at him, biting your lip in attempt to keep it from quivering. “i don’t even know what to say right now.”

“you don’t have to say anything, my angel,” he reminded you as you pressed your lips against his.

“i can start with a thank you, i think,” you chuckled, briefly breaking the kiss.

you didn’t go any further with each other that night. it felt perfect just the way things were in the moment, playfully making out with one another and occasionally engaging in a tickle fight that soencer would back out of - you become violent when tickled.

you ended up falling asleep on the couch, a blanket drawn over your half naked bodies, touch on one another, breathing even, dreams peaceful.

Dreams of Iris taglist:

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[mandoalorian]

Fluff #9 with Max Lord please 🥰

“You took all the pillows so I’m using you as one.” with Max Lord

AN: I loved this. I’ve missed writing fluff for my bby so much. Thank you for requesting this one. As someone who struggles to sleep, this made me very very soft. PLEASE REBLOG IF YOU ENJOYED READING.

Word Count: 1000>

It was 3:30 in the morning. The lights were out. Alistair was fast asleep. Maxwell was snoring his head off. But you? You hadn’t slept a wink. You kept tossing and turning, rolling over and groaning every two or three minutes.

You envied him, you really did. You could feel yourself shooting your sleeping boyfriend the evil eyes as he slept peacefully on six pillows. Six freaking pillows. He’d been complaining about having neckache from craning his head reading paperwork, so if six pillows was helping him, then you were glad. Only, he’d taken your three pillows and claimed them as his own.

His snores were shallow and he looked so pretty when he slept; bathed in the moonlight that sculpted his perfect features. You could watch him forever. But Gods help you, you were absolutely exhausted. You’d had a busy day with Alistair, taking him around the Smithsonian and walking him around the play park. Tomorrow would be a busy day too, as you were both planning on going to the aquarium. All you wanted, all you needed, was just a little bit of sleep.

Slowly and strategically, you tried to pull just one of the pillows out from underneath Maxwell’s head. Using all your might and strength, he barely moved an inch, the pillow staying put too. You cursed under your breath, crossing your arms over your chest and re-evaluating the situation.

You tried again, and again, until a sleepy Maxwell swatted your hand away and mumbled something incoherent. It was nearing four o’clock and you were running desperate.

Your boyfriend did always look... soft. And you spent plenty of times relishing in his warm embrace, whether it be hugs or cuddles or spooning. You liked curling up by his side and resting your head on his shoulder. Hell, you even liked lying on top of him.

Wait— you liked lying on top of him.

Unable to hide your smirk, you carefully pulled away the blankets and straddled him, before leaning down and shimmying into his chest. You were right. He was so warm, and your ear pressed against the beat of his heart was almost enough to immediately send you to sleep. Until...

“What the hell are you doing?” He asked, sitting upright and your body moving with his.

“Whoa.” you mumbled, looking up at Maxwell who was now tiredly rubbing his dark eyes. On instinct, his big arms wrapped around you and began to smooth out your hair.

“Are you okay?” he asked, reaching over to his nightstand to turn on the lamp.

“Mhm,” you nodded tiredly.

“Are you...?” Maxwell raised an eyebrow as he looked you up and down. You were still straddling him. This time he was smirking, rubbing circles in your thigh and his hand travelled up your silky nightgown. “Do you wanna? ‘Cuz I’m tired... but if you wanna...”

You scrunched up your nose and his implication and profusely shook your head. “No silly,” you groaned, leaning back down and nuzzling your head into his neck. “I’m tired too.”

There’s a brief silence. “Okay... and we’re you planning on telling me why you’re lying on top of me?” he questioned, continuing to smooth out your hair. He found the simple action so relaxing, and you did too.

“Well, since you asked,” you grinned, adjusting yourself slightly so you could get a good view of his face. “You took all the pillows so I’m using you as one!”

“I— wh—?” Maxwell moved his head and counted the pillows that were beneath him. “Oh darling, I’m so sorry. I hadn’t even realised—“

You hushed him, pressing a chase and gentle kiss to his soft lips.

“It’s okay,” you soothed. He went to pull out your pillows from underneath his head but you stopped him. “No, don’t,” you told him. “I just wanna stay here, like this.”

Maxwell smiled and nodded his head. “Okay then sweetheart, I love you. Try get some rest.”

“I will,” you promised. “Goodnight Maxie.”

“Goodnight my love.”

***

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[pbandjesse]

I just finished up leaving my first event at the museum. And honestly I think I went right. It was a fairly simple event because it was corporate and it was outside and they weren't inside at all but I think I did a really good job and I remembered where all of the lights were and I mostly remembered which key was which and I think I did a really good job making sure everyone had what they needed.

I was nervous. I didn't feel very good today so I was particularly nervous about that but it ended up being okay.

Some of the problem was that I had some very very strange and intense dreams last night. One of them was about my dad building secret rooms off of our house that had an entire different people group living in them. It was like a shopping mall and also like a dollhouse and it was very bizarre. And I had another dream where nosferrato owned a strip club. I am absolutely taking a shot in the dark and how to spell that word.

So I woke up not feeling incredible. And I knew that we had to leave the house by like 9:30 so I slept until 9:00 but I could have slept longer. I was just tired and uncomfortable.

But we had to get Sweetp to the vet and I knew that that was important so I got myself up and I got dressed. I really wanted to wash my hair but I would wait till tonight. It was a gray and cool day outside. And I was not prepared for that. It became fall all of a sudden and I love it but I did not plan my outfits accordingly. I will have to reassess tomorrow.

I didn't really want breakfast so I just ate the donut that we got yesterday. Which was fine. And sweetp came over to try to steal my milk and we used that opportunity to quickly get him into his carrier. That was the most successful time me and James have ever had getting him in there. Like James is usually pretty afraid of picking sweetie up in that situation but I was like no we got to move fast and we got him in there no problem. And while he cried a little bit he was a good boy. And he didn't cause too much trouble.

We drove to the animal hospital and I really like this one. It has this like very '70s vibe to it that I think is great and the vet is just so nice. Everyone there is so nice. When we got there we only had to wait for a few minutes and the waiting room at first there was two kittens and then there was a very sweet little dog. They were like a English bulldog quirky mix of some kind I think? But they were very sweet. And then a puppy who was a golden retriever who was only 9 weeks old came in and they made bestfriends and it was very cute.

I always love going into the vet because they always tell me how handsome and smart and kind and beautiful and large sweetp is. And it's true. He's a big boy. 16 and a half pounds. And he did a really good job getting his temperature taken even though he hates it and he let them weigh him and it just went really well.

When the vet came in he is the biggest personality and always has so much to tell us and he wanted to know all about where we work and all that kind of stuff and so when he found out we work in a history museum he wanted to tell us all this history about his family and the connections he has to some of the things in the museum specifically his father and grandfather owned a paint factory and they were friends with Dr bunting who invented noxzema. And he had all these great stories and it was awesome. And then I told him that I am pregnant and so he was like let's test sweet pea for a toxoplasmosis and it was going to be expensive but we have cat insurance so we're hoping that we can get some reimbursement for that. And sweet pea got his rabies vaccine and a new little tag that is red which I really appreciated. And they gave us a bunch of information and stuff to read. And he even gave us an $80 flea treatment for free. So kind. I love coming there. He also gave us a handmade cat toy from one of his texts that's made of a golf tee that looks like a little dragonfly. I haven't seen if sweet pea likes it yet but I hope that he does.

They would take sweet pea out of the room to do his shots and take his blood. But they said he looks great and that made me feel really good. And then we packed them up and we paid and headed out.

I was really not feeling good at this time though. I held it together to talk to the vet but I was really like I just need to be horizontal. I had 3 hours until I had to be at the museum and so we went right home and I changed into a sweatshirt and I laid down and it was very good.

I sort of took a half an hour nap and it helped but I would have appreciated more sleep. But because I didn't have time to wash my hair before the museum I wanted to at least round brush it so it looked nice and I got dressed and I actually wore the corset I got at the Renaissance Faire over this dress and I think it looked great and it was very very comfortable. This dress is very cute but the shoulders fall down constantly so having the straps from the corset vest made me very happy.

James had gone to their parents house while I was resting to help take out the air conditioning units and they were back by the time I woke up. They gave me a big hug and we went downstairs and I got myself together. And then I left.

I still didn't feel amazing but my plan was to go to McDonald's and get french fries and a soda because for some reason that fixes me every time. A combination of the caffeine and the salt. And so I went and I got that from McDonald's and I was a little annoyed because it was $4 for a large fry. But I ended up talking to Alexis when I got to the museum and she told me that if you order it in the app it's a $1.50 so now I have the McDonald's app even though I taken that off my phone years ago. But if it's going to save me money I'm going to do it.

So I ate my fries and had my soda and enjoyed sitting in the car watching a video. But eventually I was like oh I should go in the museum now. But I don't have any keys and no one was at the desk and I rang the doorbell twice and no one let me in. I told Merrill and she wasn't working today so then I called Jesse and he told me that Donnell the new maintenance/facilities a director would come and let me in and he did and I was only slightly frustrated that I was sitting out in a drizzly rain.

I felt a lot better though and I was just ready to do my thing. And I think I did a great job. Jesse came down to give me the keys and give me some overview for the evening. Corporate event outside. Atlantic was the caterer. He gave me the times and then I was basically in charge. We ran around a few times together just so that I could have any last minute questions or concerns answered but I felt pretty good. He gave me an alarm code for the building and then he went to his office to work for a few hours.

The museum isn't open on Mondays so It was pretty quiet in there. I would post up at the front desk and wait to see the caters or anybody else. And when they start coming I introduced myself and maybe try had names and they are very confident so I was not worried about them. But I was worried about the rain. It was kind of drizzling and a little windy and I was like I can put the sides down and so I had Phil show me how to use the drill attachment so it would be faster. And I'm really glad I did that because about an hour and a half after I asked if they wanted it and they told me no they were like actually can you please put the sides down it's so windy. And so I would do that. I did twerk my wrist a little bit because the drill was very powerful. But it made it a lot more comfortable for them and it would only get worse so I'm glad that I did it when I did.

I mostly had a chill night. I would knit and hang out the desk and watch a video and chat with Mo the security guard. And nobody was in the museum so I didn't really have to deal with that. I would periodically go outside but then the rain really picked up as the party got started and it was just windy and blustery and bad. I felt really bad that they couldn't hang out inside but they didn't rent the museum. They would use our bathrooms so we had stanchions set up for that but there was not a lot I could do. So I just tried to be a smiling face and I think the people who came enjoyed their food and had the best time they could despite the weather.

It was a crab feast so there wasn't a ton for me to eat but I did get sides again. And I really like the corn on the cob the other day so I got that again and I made a little sandwich with a hot dog bun and had watermelon. And I brought that inside and was soaking wet from walking across the parking lot on the rain so I dried off and I wore James's work fleece that they leave on their chair. But I would warm up and it would be a really nice night. Just a little boring for me but I'd rather that on my first night alone then too exciting.

Because it was so blustery and cold outside the party wrapped up an hour early and so the caters pulled everything together and I started turning off lights and get everything ready to go. And we were out of there by 9:00. I was really proud of us.

Mo kept giggling at me for being so efficient as he kept saying. Getting things locked and lights turned off. But I was ready to go home. And I just pulled up at our home. James made me lasagna and I'm going to wash my hair and I'm really just excited to get some rest.

I took the day off tomorrow. I hope to work on my teddy bear hospital patient and catch up on my temperature blanket. And I really just hope it's a good day.

I hope you all sleep well. Take care of yourself. Goodnight!!

[imagine-that-100]

Truth Serum

Description: Matty Healy x Reader (Female) | You’ve been friends with Matty for quite a few years and he thinks he knows pretty much everything about you. Like how you’re always more honest when you’d had a drink and even more so when you’re tired too. But when a head injury and strong painkillers are added to that equation, for Matty it’s entertaining, but for you it’s a recipe for heartbreak. 

Word Count: 9.7k

Warnings: A lil bit of angst but mostly fluff.

A/N: This was requested by @jagz72​! Sorry it took so long but I got VERY carried away and just couldn't stop writing. I really hope you enjoy reading it, I definitely enjoyed writing it. I hope everyone has a very Happy New Year! This year has been amazing (on Tumblr) and I’ve connected with so many people on here it’s been really lovely making so many new friends. I’m wishing you all a wonderful 2021!

Likes and Reblogs are appreciated but most of all, thank you so much for reading x

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

This really wasn’t how you hoped your day would go. But here you were, sitting on a hospital bed with a nurse shining a torch in your eyes making sure you were okay.

The reason you were here may be funny in the future when you tell it back to your kids or something. But right now, you were worried and so was the man that was holding your hand, who’d been the cause of your injury.

Matty had brought you to A&E as soon as the incident happened.

You'd been friends for 3 years, so it really wasn’t anything out of the ordinary these days when Matty popped by early in the morning. You knew he liked getting out of his house so his inability to sleep for long durations didn’t suffocate him.

After all, no one liked lying in bed wide awake when you knew you were meant to be asleep.

So, you’d given him a key many moons ago to try and help him combat that. You were a creative person, be that crafting or baking or painting.

You had it all.

So, his mind could run wild in your house and he’d yet to get bored. You’d woken up more than once to find him in your lounge, painting once but most of the time you found him trying to replicate your baking goods.

And he was really shit at it.

When he walked into your home this morning, you were already up and in the kitchen baking. Truthfully it was a surprise to see you up and about so early as it was only 6:30.

You didn’t sleep very well last night as you’d been out drinking with a few friends. You never really slept well after an alcohol filled night. It always left you really dehydrated and because you lived quite a bit out of London, not too far from Matty, you most of the time started with your hangover before you even got back home.

But that was the choice you made when you went into the city to drink.

So in theory Matty shouldn't have been surprised when he saw you already awake this morning. He knew you’d gone out and he knew what drinking did to you.

Matty quite liked when you got drunk with him, you were a really funny person and you pretty much had no filter when you had alcohol in your system. That was always fun for you all when you went out, and Matty loved the taxis back home with you on nights like that.

He always brought an extra drink in the taxi with him so your hangover wouldn’t start in the 30 minute drive back.

Matty had greeted you with a hug when he walked into your house and found that you were in the kitchen. You seemed really happy to see him too and you got to chatting about how Notes was coming along.

But it seemed that you and Matty let time get the better of you as Matty kept teasing you for practically still being drunk. The alcohol that was still present in your system obviously hadn’t worn off it’s truth serum effects yet and Matty liked to tease you about doing impulsive things, like baking cookies at 7:30 in the morning.  

The next time Matty looked at the clock though, he was really late for a meeting. Your tired, tipsy, sleep deprived self had been quite entertaining leading him to forget that he had people to meet.

Jamie had called him double checking about the meeting that was meant to be starting at 8:45. But the time was now 9:22 and he still hadn’t showed up so Jamie, being the friendly manager he was, just called him up to check if he was okay.

“Oh fuck.” Matty curses looking at the caller ID and the time.

You look around at Matty worriedly and ask, “What’s wrong?”

“I’m meant to be at a meeting with Jamie and the lads right now.” Matty tells you, “I’ll be just a minute.”

Matty goes out of the kitchen to answer the call as he didn’t want to disturb your early morning baking. He didn't care if you could hear what he said or not he just didn't want to disturb your morning.

That and he was going to try and get out of the meeting so he could stay and eat all the cookies you’d yet to put in the oven.

Matty answers Jamie and profusely apologises for lacking manners to show up to a meeting on time. Thankfully, Jamie isn’t that fussed about it and suggests putting the meeting back as he was free until early afternoon.

Matty jumps at that chance.  

But then Matty practically whips himself around with the intent to ask you how long it will take to bake the cookies so he’d know how long to push the meeting back, but he never gets that far. When Matty turns around, he barges his shoulder straight into you causing you to be pushed back.

You were just about to make your way past him to get your phone from where you’d put it on charge in your lounge earlier, but that was long forgotten when your head smacked off the corner of the wooden door frame behind you.  

The bang to the back of your head shocked Matty to his core. You both stopped dead and looked at each other and as soon as Matty’s hands rested on your shoulders he kept apologising.

“Shit shit shit. Y/N are you okay?!” Matty asks, his hands flying to your shoulders to steady you, his phone still in his hand.

“I’m okay.” You tell him in shock, moving away from the door frame a little to hold the back of your head.

You could feel a lump forming already, but there was no blood, so you guessed you were alright. Matty quickly puts his phone to his ear to tell Jamie he’d call him back before he pockets his phone and holds your shoulders again.

“I’m so sorry Y/N. I didn't know you were there, are you okay? Did I hurt you?” Matty asks worriedly.

“Not your fault Matty.” You tell him, “I’m fine.”

Something which Matty doesn’t believe for a solid minute despite you assuring him that you were okay.

Once he relaxes a little, he pulls you into a hug as another way to apologise. You also relax and take your hand off the back of your head to hug him back, trying to assure him you’re okay. But you can’t help the curse that falls from your lips as you could already feel a headache coming on.

“Fuck me.” You say resting your forehead down on his shoulder.

His eyes go wide, “Really?” Matty questions in shock.

“No.” You say immediately, and Matty is about to laugh until you correct your statement to, “Well, not right now.”

Matty’s eyes widen, “What?”  

You didn’t even say it in a sarcastic or joking way. Matty immediately felt the need to pry.

“My head hurts a little.” You whine into his shoulder, but he assumes it's to try and distract from the little slip up you just had.

And as much as Matty wanted to make your head better instantly he was shocked by what you said. So before he could stop himself he grins, “Tell me what you just said.”

“Matty I’m fine, go to your meeting.” You say picking your head up off his shoulder.

He looks into your Y/E/C eyes and they narrow as he asks if he hears correctly, “You said I couldn’t fuck you right now?”

“Yeah, so?” You shake your head as if you didn’t remember saying that.

Matty looks at you curiously, frowning a little as the thought had never really crossed his mind that you thought of him like that. “You want me to fuck you?”

“We’re not discussing this right now.” You shake your head again but Matty sees pain flash through your eyes. You hold the back of your head again and he can see you're actually in pain. “Matty, my head hurts.”

“I’ll get you some ice.” Matty says letting go of your waist and looking to your fridge freezer across the room.

Before he can move though you grab his arm and say, “No, go to your meeting.”

“You can’t just say you want me to fuck you and then tell me to go to a meeting Y/N.” Matty grins at you.  

You close your eyes and sigh, “Matty.”

Matty’s grin gets bigger and he holds your waist again and teasingly says your name, “Y/N.”

“You shouldn’t be joking about this now...” You shake your head a little harder, “You just made me accidentally whack my head on the fucking door fra- oh... I feel dizzy.” You say and Matty’s heart goes in his throat when your eyes roll to the back of your head and you almost go limp in his arms.

“Shit.” Matty says, tightening his hold around you so you don't fall to the floor and hit your head again.

And that was how you ended up in A&E at 9:55 on a Friday morning.

“Okay so, you’re okay but you’ve had a moderate concussion and you're unfortunately going to be in pain for a day or two with it.” The nurse tells you when she stops shining the torch in your eyes.

“We will give you stronger painkillers than the ones you’ve already taken but with these you need to be woken up every two hours when you go to sleep tonight. Try and stay awake as long as possible today and then,” She looks to Matty, “You need to wake her a little every two hours. Not like getting up and about but she needs to respond or you call an ambulance.”

“Oh he’s n-” You start to correct her to wonder what you need to do for yourself because Matty wouldn’t be with you.

But Matty says, “Yeah course, I can do that.”

After the nurse told you and Matty what symptoms of things getting worse to look out for you picked up your prescription from the chemist. After that though you expected to go back home and try to relax your headache away but Matty refused to let you out of his sight because it was his fault you were in this state.

So Matty took you to his pushed back meeting and took you to the studio afterwards as he had to keep his eye on you. You weren’t chatty throughout it all, as you tried to keep yourself to yourself.

But that didn’t mean that you didn’t find the meeting fucking boring and you felt like you were intruding in the studio. But you did get another insight into their new album which was fun.

You tried to keep your mouth shut whilst you listened to it, liking to take in the lyrics but when you did you were a little shocked about it.

The song you were allowed to listen to today was Nothing Revealed/ Everything Denied and there were a few revelations in there that you weren't expecting. But you tried to keep that as quiet as you could because the strong painkillers mixed with the lack of sleep was also acting as another form of truth serum.

Since taking your painkillers early this afternoon, you’d been messy to say the least. You’d made a fool out of yourself when you complimented all of the other boys.

Earlier you basically told George earlier that you thought his tattoos were attractive. You told Ross that his hair was looking really good with it longer on top and you even accidentally moved it and styled it a tad for him. You forced yourself to not tell Adam that you found him hypnotic when he played the guitar.

“You have nice eyes” You tell Matty, but not actually meaning to, as you sat across from him at the cafe you’d gone to for lunch not far from the studio.

Matty glances back at you from the window then and he smiles, “Thank you”

He also feels the need to add, “You’ve got nice eyes too”

You seem to become a bit embarrassed then which makes Matty smile. You seem to disagree with his observation though and shake your head which confuses him a little, until you say, “I have boring eyes”

“Mine are literally the colour of this table Y/N” Matty says, pointing to the dark wood that your plates both rest on. “Not very interesting”

“They are interesting. They look like they see the world differently” You say honestly before looking back down to your food.

Matty watches as you eat then. It seemed like you didn’t mean to say that either because you went a bit shy again.

He decides to let this one slide but when you do it again he can’t help himself.

About 3 hours later, Matty was driving you both back home from the studio and he noticed that you were pretty silent in the car despite one of your favourite songs just being on the radio. Matty looks to you after the song finishes and notices your leaning your head on the window.

Your eyes were closed and you looked a bit better than earlier, so he asked you, “How you feeling, love?”

But you didn’t answer him and that makes him panic a little bit. He forgot you weren’t allowed to sleep.

“Hey Y/N/N” Matty says, flicking his eyes between you and the road and he shakes your shoulder.

“I’m tired Matty, leave me alone ” You say shrugging his hand away.

“No no no stay awake” Matty says pulling on your hair a little bit instead to try and annoy you awake.

He does it for a minute and he only stops when you pick your head up off the window. You shift in your seat and turn towards him so you’re now facing him properly and resting your temple on the headrest.

You close your eyes again but you know he’s right, so you ask, “Can you keep chatting to me to keep me awake because I don’t think I can do it on my own.”

“Fuck.” Matty chuckles.

You always told him to shut up. Never to keep talking.

“Have I broken you?” Matty chuckles a little looking back to the road.

“Not in the way I want you to break me.” Matty hears you whisper and his eyes go wide.  

He sees that your eyes were closed again but this time you were curled up on the seat facing him. It didn’t even look like you knew what you just said.

He immediately turns his head and asks in shock, “Do you know you said that out loud?”

“I said that out loud?” You ask, your eyes open in shock.

“Yes Y/N.” Matty smirks glancing back at the road and then at you again.

You look mortified and you pull your phone out  of your pocket and distract yourself on that. You don’t look at him as you say, “Well pretend I didn’t”

Matty wants answers though. “Y/N do you wa-“

But you interrupt with, “Matty when are you releasing Notes because I wanna play If You’re too Shy on repeat?”

“Y/N/N.” Matty tries again but you have none of it.

“Answer me.” You insist, evidently not wanting to revert back to what you said.  

Matty gives in and estimates, “Like May-ish.”

“May?” You question in an annoyed sigh. “Matty you said it would be out last year.”

“Don’t believe what I say music wise.” Matty says looking back to the road now as you definitely weren’t going to go back to the topic of him ‘breaking you’. “I said that we were stopping the band after Notes remember and that’s changed.”

“Yeah, I don’t know why you ever said that. You belong on a stage”. You say as you scroll back through your phone.  

“Thanks Darling” Matty grins, “Do you like watching me up on stage?”

He hopes to get another comment out of you like before. But he just gets a sarcastic, “Oh yeah Hun, you look like the drama queen you are.”  

You’re good with your slip ups after that until late at night when you head up to bed with Matty following close behind joking about the ‘adult sleepover’ you were having. He’d insisted he was staying and doing the checks on you every two hours.

You were fine with that as he’d stayed in your bed before when the both of you had passed out mid movie nights, but the jokes you could do without. Especially when your lips were speaking so freely from the meds you were on and the lack of sleep in your system.

“You hurt me Matthew, you should be taking care of me not asking me to shag you” You say before heading into your bathroom to get changed after throwing a pair of joggers his way.  

When you re-enter your bedroom, you see Matty already under your duvet and you give him a hug once you lie yourself down beside him.

“You’re never this touchy with me” Matty says a minute into the hug that's practically turned into a cuddle.  

“Because I don’t know if you like me touching you.” You say as you let go of him and grab the pillow under your head to bring it between you so you could hug it as you drifted off to sleep.

But you leave Matty confused then. You were never the touchy type in general and in the time he’d known you, he’d never seen you with the boyfriend you had when you initially met so he didn’t even know if you were a cuddly person in a relationship.  

“You don’t like anyone touching you.” Matty says after your eyes had been closed for a few seconds.  

You don’t open them back up again, not even when you admit, “I like you touching me.”

It makes Matty once again freeze as he wasn’t expecting your honesty. And he certainly wasn’t expecting you to continue with, “Makes my day when you give me a hug or kiss my cheek or give me a loving headlock, even if your hair does tickle my face when you do it.”

You chuckle a little at the end of your sentence which leads Matty to do as well, at both your honesty and the comment about his hair. The way you’re smiling into your pillow is also impossible for Matty now to smile at.

“I love your hair, you know?” You tell him, still keeping your eyes closed.  

Matt smiles at the fact your filter seems to be completely gone at this point. So Matty feels the need to compliment you back.

“I love your hair.” Matty tells you, tucking a strand of it that had fallen onto your face behind your ear. He tells you honestly, “I like messing with it”

“Mhhh” You hum with a smile. You add in a whisper, “I like it when you pull on it.”

Matty is once again taken aback by your statement and this time he can’t let it go. The teasing remarks that you’d been accidently letting slip all day had to have meant something, or you wouldn’t look so sheepish after you said them.

Like just now you were cuddling yourself into your pillow more than you already had been and Matty just couldn’t bring himself to let it go. Yeah it may not be the time for such a conversation at 1:48am but here you both were.

And Matty had to know.  

So after a silent minute he said, “Y/N”

“What?” You ask softly.  

“You know I can hear you whispering?”

“Maybe you were meant to.” You tiredly suggest, your voice barely above a whisper.  

“Where’s this all coming from?” Matty asks, a little amused as you never gave out compliments unless it was about his music.

The music was something you never joked about but you always did with him and the rest of the band.

Matty watches as you internally battle with yourself on what to reply. But it seems the truth ends up being your easiest option despite you sighing before you start.  

“I think I like you a lot Matty.” You tell him and it shocked the curly haired man to his soul. You carry on, your eyes still closed, “And once I slipped up I couldn’t stop myself from carrying on.”

Matty struggles to find words for a moment there. He didn’t know what he was expecting but it certainly wasn’t this.

“I think about you all the time when I’m not supposed to…” You trail off for a moment there leaving the room in silence. Something which then leads to you add in a sad tone, “And I get it if you leave... I wouldn’t like me either but I’m sick of hiding it now.”

Matty stumbles again but he just about manages to ask, “Ho- How long...? Have you liked me?”

“I think I noticed after George’s party” You say thinking back to three months ago.

“Why?” Matty asks, not remembering anything significantly different about that night compared to the others you’ve shared together.  

“Because you’re you” You say simply.

Matty frowns a little then, not annoyed he doesn’t think, but maybe a little disappointed. He didn’t want people to like him because he was Matty Healy from The 1975 anymore.

Matty wanted that left behind in 2015. That’s why he’d had the long relationship with Gabby and that was why he’d only been out with very few people since her, Twigs being the only one that got a little serious. But all of them eventually fizzled out for different reasons.

Matty just didn’t want people to want him because of who he was on stage or who the media presented him as anymore. He was done with it... completely and utterly-

“You always make me laugh by pulling a face when I’ve had a bad day at work.” You carry on after those few seconds of silence, and you continue on to say, “You know my shit and you tease me about it but in a fun loving sorta way. You tuck your hair behind your ear when you're nervous which is the cutest thing I’ve ever seen and I get jealous when you do it to other girls and not me, but that’s fine. And my heart goes rapid when you tell me a cheesy joke because you decided to tell it me first. And I find myself wanting you to be around all the time even if it’s the middle of the night.”

You finish off your tired rambling leaving Matty on the opposite side of your bed completely stunned. So much so that the man who always has something to say is left speechless.

Nothing coming out of his mouth even if he could think of something to say. You have completely stunned him.

He is so desperately trying to think of a way to reply to you that he doesn’t realise how much time passes. The only thing that rips him out of his thoughts are your next soft words.

“Am I allowed to go to sleep now or do I have to stay awake?” You question in a whisper, your voice thick with tiredness.  

Matty looks at your soft stunning features and just about manages to whisper back, “You can sleep... But don’t you want me to tell you how I’m feeling?”

You shake your head into your pillow and Matty listens intently when you say, “I’d rather have ten more minutes of us being friends without it being awkward and then I can wake up tomorrow and cry when you’re not there and don’t want to be my friend anymore.”

And just that sentence alone breaks Matty's heart. He assures you, “I’m never going to not be your friend”

Because no matter what happened tomorrow he didn’t want to lose you. You’d always been such a good friend, there was no way Matty was ever going to let that go.

“But you’re not going to be close with me anymore because you know I like you.” You say, your voice full of melancholy. But you for some reason feel the need to assure him, “And that’s okay. I wouldn’t like me either... But thank you for being my friend for as long as you have.”

“Y/N” Matty starts but you don’t let him finish.

“Goodnight Matty. Talk in the morning.” You say, “But if you go, I understand. I won’t bother you anymore.”

“I’m n-” Matty tired again but your tired voice interrupts once more.  

“Thanks for everything Matty.” You say giving him a smile, your eyes still closed but you must have known he was watching you.

That night Matty didn’t sleep a wink. You were all he could think about. He lay on the other side of your bed for hours trying to process everything you said.

He couldn’t believe it. He was really shocked by your honesty just before you went to sleep but as you spoke he could physically see your body relax. As if it was a weight of your shoulders which he guessed it must have been.

Matty took the hours he lay awake and processed everything about yours and his friendship through his mind. And there were so many happy memories.

Matty didn't even get through the first year before his 2 hour alarm went off on his apple watch and he stirred you a bit to make sure you were still alive. He of course knew you were but when you hummed a little in response to him calling your name that was enough for Matty to let you rest again.

Matty went over every single thing he could remember in his mind. The highs and the lows of the last 3 years in your presence and he was smiling throughout most of it.

Sometimes his thoughts got away with him so much he had to put the TV you had in your room on to distract him. The volume stayed on low but he had to distract himself because not getting a chance to talk to you left him wanting to wake you up and talk everything through.

But he knew you’d had a shit night’s sleep the previous day and the bump on your head had left you really tired. So he couldn’t deprive you the rest you definitely needed.

But now it was 7:36 and Matty couldn’t just lie in bed next to you anymore. He had to go do something.  

~*~*~*~

You woke up the next morning afraid to open your eyes. You were petrified.

Of course you remembered everything that had been said the night before and you knew if you opened your eyes and saw the guy you fancied beside you that your friendship at the very least would be okay. But if you opened your eyes to see an empty bed, you know you fucked it completely.

So that was why you kept your eyes closed for 5 minutes once you woke up. You could hear your TV playing music from the other side of the room so you never heard Matty breathing. But there was a reason for that.

Because when you opened your eyes, you found an empty bed.

Your heart sank and immediately tears came to your eyes. You knew you shouldn’t have done it. You shouldn’t have told him anything.

Now you’d lost your good friend and probably the rest of the band on the way. By the time you sat up and walked into your bathroom, the tears were freely streaming down your face.

You didn’t even try to stop them. You just let them fall and got in the shower so you could cry to your heart’s content.

Your chest hurt. It hurt in a way it hadn’t for a long time because you’d not let anyone in like you’d accidentally let Matty in.

And of course he wasn’t interested in you. Why would he be?

You were no Halsey or Gabby or FKA Twigs. You were no one’s love of their life, but you thought Matty might have been yours.

It was so stupid of you to think like that.

You hoped the 20 minute shower would have been enough time to settle your heartache but apparently it wasn’t. You were still crying long after you turned the water off and you got yourself dry.

You cried as you blow dried your hair, you cried as you changed into your comfort pair of joggers (the ones you’d loaned Matty last night) and your massively baggy hoodie. You couldn’t stop the tears from flowing which meant that the pressure behind your eyes started to hurt your head.

You turned the TV off but that didn’t help. So you went downstairs to get yourself a drink and some painkillers as your injury from yesterday wasn’t helping either.

But when you opened your kitchen door the bang of something hitting the worktop didn’t help either. You push the door open fully and we’re shocked to see your kitchen in an absolute state with Matty standing there in his clothes from yesterday with a tray full of unbaked cookies in his hand.

“What are you doing?” The words come out of your mouth as you look at the state that your kitchen was in.

There’s baking goods everywhere and from the things that were out you couldn’t tell if he was making bread or some sort of cake. You were very confused but your curly haired friend also looked confused.

He didn’t turn to look at you as he was trying to make sure the cookies that were on the tray didn’t roll off as he put them in the oven. He opened up the now very hot contraption and once they were in and the door was shut he quickly put a timer on his phone to check them after a while.

“I’m trying to make you some cookies. But you know yours are always going to be better than mine because the first batch I tried I put icing sugar instead of cast-  what’s wrong?” Matty asks, finally turning to look at you.

When he did, he saw that your eyes were swollen and your cheeks were puffy and your eyes were all bloodshot. He threw the oven glove to the side not caring where it went and walked over to you, “Why are you crying?”

You withdraw then and look down away from him. The ball immediately rises back to your throat and the tears that had just briefly stopped are threatening to flow again.

“Y/N/N” Matty takes your hand so you can’t move away again.

You shake your head and look down to the ground. You just about managed to get out, “Doesn’t matter”

“Course it matters, you’re upset” Matty says but you just shake your head and don’t look at him.

But that doesn’t mean he can see the tears rolling down your cheeks.

“Come here” He says, pulling you into a hug and you truly didn’t realise how much you needed it.

You inhale a very shaky breath which hurts Matty’s heart so he asks again, running a hand up and down your back, “What’s wrong? Why are you upset?”

You don’t have the energy to make up a lie so you just tell him the truth.

“You weren’t there when I woke up. I thought I lost you” You whisper but your voice comes out in a much higher octave than usual as you’re trying not to fully sob again.

Matty pulls away from the hug but keeps you close. Both his hands come up to cup your face and his thumbs brush away your tears and he says softly, “Don’t cry”

“Matty I’ve been crying for the better part of an hour, you telling me to stop won’t just make it happen” You half laugh half whine.

Your emotions were everywhere. You couldn’t believe he was still here. You still weren’t to be fair, you were half sure you were dreaming.

“You really think I would just leave you?” Matty asks with a tiny frown as he again wipes another tear away.

“Well yeah.” You shrug a little pathetically before carrying on in a pained voice, ”You don’t owe me anything. I’m just some girl you know. I’m not one important, so why would you stay?”

“Because you’re so much more than that you’ve just said.” Matty tells you honestly. His heart hurting that you thought of yourself like that.

“You don’t have to pretend.” You shake your head, ”I’m a big girl, I can handle rejection.”

Matty can’t believe you don’t get it.

“Y/N/N I’m standing in your house trying to bake you cookies, comforting you, I always flirt with you and I have done for ages… And you still think I want someone else?” Matty asks, wiping your tears away.

”No.“ Matty confirms, ”Yeah, you shocked me last night because you’ve never ever given me the slightest inkling that you liked me but when you started, it all fits Y/N.”

Matty continues to shock you with, “Why do you think I said ‘really’ yesterday when you said ‘fuck me’? I didn’t mean to say that just like you didn’t mean to say ‘not right now’.”

Matty grins as he finishes explaining, “But your you. You never let me get a word in edgeways which most of the time I love, but yesterday you didn’t let me get a chance to say that I fancy the fuck out of you.”

Your eyes go wide and you immediately shake your head, “No you don’t”

“Believe me I do.” Matty assures you, but you still don’t look like you believe him, “I don’t think you understand just how much though.”

“Because you don’t fancy me Matty. Stop trying to be nice” You shake your head and go to turn around but Mattys hand finds your hip and stops you turning.

Matty tells you honestly, “I’d say I’ve fancied you since we were out at that bar months ago and The Sound came on and you were dancing to it singing it to us.”

Matty grins as he continues, “And you did that thing I do on stage for the playing with yourself lyrics and I fully gulped. And then you pulled me up to dance with you and I loved listening and watching you sing my song at me.”

“A little narcissistic of you that Matty” You can’t help but say as you wipe away the tears that had sneaked down your eyes.

“Well it's lucky you like me anyway so I don’t even have to pretend it’s not.” Matty grins tucking a strand of your messy bed hair behind your ear. “Plus you looked really fucking good in those leather pants and you had the cutest most excited look on your face when you got me up dancing”

You giggle a little then and you half smile at him trying to make the tears stop. Matty helps with that by gently brushing his thumb over the bow sensitive skin under your eyes.

“So my beautiful and wonderful Y/N…” Matty likes the way you smile when he says that, “You need to stop crying because today I planned on wooing my best friend with cookies in exchange for a kiss and later on I was gunna get on my knees and beg my best friend to go out with me.”

You grin as you joke, “George is a lucky boy, isn’t he?”

“Shut up” Matty giggles.

You whisper a little, with a grin on your face, “Especially lucky for the get on your knees part.”

He gives you a knowing look then, but he just grins and asks, “How’s the head injury? Still making you spill your secrets I see”

You smile a little but only answer his question, “My head hurts from crying so it’s not a lot better.”

“Please stop crying.” Matty begs, ”I’d never leave you especially after that. I’m sorry I didn’t stay in bed, I just wanted to do something for you because you never got to finish making the cookies yesterday”

“You’re cute” You smile.

Matty mirrors it, “So are you.”

You smile at him and your eyes flick between both of his. He looked so gorgeous, yet so sleep deprived.

You're about to ask him about his sleep but Matty gets a question in there before you. “Can I kiss you now?”

Your eyes go wide, “No.”

“I feel vile, I’m all disgusting” You add sniffling a bit because you were all bunged up.

“Y/N you know how disgusting I am, do you really think I care?” Matty chuckles a little, again wiping away a stray tier.

You look into those gorgeous eyes and tell him, “I care”

Matty just pouts, looking down to your lips, “I wanna kiss you.”

You smile at his eagerness but softly plead, “Please wait until I’ve stopped crying.”

“Fine.” Matty says, “You win this one” and then he kisses your forehead.

You smile at the contact and Matty pulls you into a hug which you greatly appreciate. You tightly hug him back and you sort of melt into his warm body.

You feel another kiss being placed to the top of your head and you smile feeling that. “Come on Darling, gotta give you more of that truth serum” Matty says, knowing you needed more painkillers.

You giggle then but you pause when you recognise a familiar smell. You pull out of the hug and say, “Matty the cookies”

Matty immediately smelled the burning batch then too. He rushed his way over to your oven then saying, “Shit shit shit”

~*~*~*~

After the burnt cookies made it out of the oven and you helped him with a normal batch, you spent the day together. Him still looking after you like he did yesterday but this time he was overtly flirting with you all day.

You had to admit that you did love it. The fact he actually liked you back was something you were still a little shocked by but by the time you were sitting down eating your lunch together you’d talked through things a lot.

Matty had told you that he wanted to take you out later to a bar for some quiet drinks, and he said he had every intention of kissing you when he brought you back. You tried not to show how that made you feel bit Matty knew how you hid things so when he cupped your cheeks and felt how hot they were he teased you about being silently on board with the idea.

But the more you thought about actually going out with him, the more you wished it didn’t happen whilst you had a head injury. The last thing you wanted was to go out to a bar and have noisy people around you.

Matty himself was a handful sometimes and if you were honest you didn’t really want to get yourself ready to go out in public. You’d rather just stay in with the man himself.

So you thought you’d ask if he’d put a pin in the idea for now.

“Matty” You say once you come back into the lounge. As you sit yourself down on the settee beside him you ask, “You know how you said you’d get on your knees and ask me out later?”

Matty gives you a little playful grin then and answers, “Yeah?”

“Can you do that maybe in a day or two?” You ask him a little hesitantly. You also explain, “I still don’t feel all that great and I’d like to enjoy our date when we go out.”

“Thought you’d like me on my knees for you?” Matty teases a bit, shuffling himself a little closer to you.  

You’re both facing each other on the settee now. The side of your heads are resting against the back of the cushioned surface and you’re just smirking at each other.

You run your tongue over your bottom lip as his playful look continues. Despite the teasing remark though, you continue with your honesty.

“I’d probably love it a lot more when I don’t have a splitting headache and I’ve not been crying all morning.” You grin and Matty chuckles a little before resting a hand on your knee.  

“That’s fine” Matty smiles, letting his hand rub your knee soothingly. “What would you like to do instead?”

You quite liked that he didn’t want to leave despite you postponing the date. It gave you more assurance that he was still interested, even though he’d assured you several times now that he was.  

You suggest, “Netflix?”

“And chill?” Matty suggests with a teasing smirk.  

You can’t help but laugh, “We will see.”

The rest of the day surprisingly goes pretty fast. That may have been yours and Matty’s weird thing around each other though because whenever you were together it seemed like time just flew by.

You both went on a walk around the park near where you lived as a way to break up the day. It was a walk filled with Matty now being very cheeky with you and he found every excuse to put his hands on you.

The most memorable time being when you were standing in the queue at the little cafe that was there so you could get yourselves a sandwich. His arms had snaked around your waist from behind and he pulled you into him for everyone to see.

His touchiness didn’t even die down when you got to the lady who was serving. If anything he was even more attentive to you as he called you ‘Darling’ and ‘Babe’ when he was asking what food and drink you wanted.

The lady serving you seemed amused by your first ‘lovers quarrel’ over who was paying for what. Something which Matty ended up doing because he wasn’t taking no for an answer. You’d be sure to buy him something at some point to make up for it though.

But before either of you knew it you were curled up together on your settee with the lights on low as you watched your films. They weren’t anything intense, they were just shitty comedies like Zoolander and Step Brothers. Just films that you could chat over but then also pay attention to if you wanted a break from the chatting.

You don’t really know how you got into the position but in this moment in time you were curled up against Matty with your legs over his and he had his head on your shoulder as you watched the film. It was needless to say you felt so much better than you did this morning.

Maybe you should have been honest from the get go and you could have been experiencing this for a lot longer. You certainly looked forward to the cute innocent cuddles you’d have in the future as Matty had made it clear he was interested.

You must have got lost in your head for a moment though, because Matty’s lips gently meeting your neck was something that brought you straight back to reality. It was just a gentle peck which made you smile towards the TV and you just carried on playing with his hair like he’d not done anything.

But then he did it again for a little longer and then again a little bit higher up your neck. It was only when Matty carried on his little adventure that your fingers laced into his hair to encourage him.

You felt him grin into your neck then and he slowly worked his way up your neck like a teenager exploring that section of skin for the first time. You of course tilted your head to the side to give him more room and you both had a little giggle at that both being fully aware of what the other was doing.

When Matty started nipping on your neck you let your eyes close to bask in the sensations he was bringing to you. You felt like it was ten times better than what anyone else had done before, but maybe that was because you really fancied him.

Whatever the reason though, you didn’t want his lips to stop. And thankfully they didn’t.

Matty teased your neck until he was itching to kiss your lips. So much so that he silently pleaded to himself that you’d let him now your tears had long dried up.

“Can I please kiss you properly now?” Matty asks against your neck after another minute of the sweet torture.

You pull on his hair so his lips detached from your neck and when he looked up at you and his sweet brown eyes met yours. You nodded a, “Yes please”

And Matty didn’t need to be told twice.

Matty’s pillowy lips meet yours and you instantly melt. The nervousness that you felt building before every first kiss you’d ever had was gone and you let yourself enjoy it.

For Matty it was everything he hoped it would be. Your soft lips meeting for kisses every single time and when you brought your hand up to cup his face it was indication that you liked it enough for it to continue.

Your lips moved against each other’s almost cautiously as you both softly go in for the kisses you’d been starving yourselves of all day. Even though they were sweet and innocent, you couldn’t help your heart beating erratically in your chest.

You think it meant more to you because you liked him and have done for a while. Kisses like this weren’t the same as the ones you get when you were after a quick pull at a club. These meant something and the fact you were both gentle and almost hesitant with them proved that.

After a minute you both pull away, Matty pressing his forehead against yours so you could feel his curls tickle your face but you didn’t mind in the slightest. Your hands had chosen to cup his cheek and his neck so you really weren’t that fussed about his curls, if anything you welcomed them now you knew he didn’t mind you being close.

In this pause to catch your breaths you never really lost, Matty decided to tell you with a grin, “You’ll be pleased to know I definitely like you”

You giggle at that and let your fingers lace back into his curls before saying, “You’re a cheesy fucker” before you pull him in to meet your lips again.

It was less hesitant from both of you this time as the joke caused you both to smile into it a little. But it gets a little more forward after that.

They were more confident kisses this time which was slowly setting your skin on fire. And you both got that into them that the next time you knew what was going on you were leaning backwards with Matty’s lips still meeting yours meaning he was slowly trapping you between him and the settee.

Thankfully there were definitely worse places to be trapped. You would choose this form of imprisonment every time.

When Matty deepened the kiss it caused the both of you to whimper a bit. Mostly because of the way you pulled on his curls to encourage it and the fact that Matty’s hand had found your hip and he held you against him tightly.

The kisses only got braver from then on. Both of you now fully getting off on your settee with absolutely no intention of stopping anytime soon.

The only time you pause is when it’s getting a little intense for you because the lump on the back of your head was pressed into the harder part of the arm of the settee. So the next time Matty’s lips trail down your neck to allow you both to get some air, you let him know in your own sarcastic way.

“Matty” You half whine, loving the way he was kissing your neck now.

“Yes baby?” Matty asks and the pet name causes your stomach to flip. Hearing that fall from his lips in the position you were both in definitely felt good.

“I know I'm a good kisser and everything so it's not a shock I’m clouding your mind, but I had a head injury yesterday and you kissing me the way you are is pushing my head into the settee and it’s starting to hurt again.” You ramble honestly keeping your fingers tightly laced into his curls.

Matty chuckles into your neck then before placing one last kiss there for now. He then leans up and pecks your lips once more.

“Sorry baby” Matty says, pulling you up into a different position. You're straddling his hips then and Matty leans back against the settee with a grin plastered onto his lips, “This better for you?”

“Cocky little shit, aren’t you?” You laugh shaking your head at him.

Matty laughs too but he backchats, “Says you… You’re the one that just said your kisses were that good they left me with no memory”

“Well” You grin, pecking his lips teasingly once more before saying, “I’m speaking from experience”

“Come here” Matty says shaking his head, pulling you back down to him with the hand that cups your neck and you note a playful grin on his lips, “We will see whos mind goes foggy”

You end up kissing him like that for a long while just enjoying this new dynamic with each other. You had to admit to yourself that he was a really good kisser, but that shouldn’t really have surprised you, his tongue was out a lot in the Love Me video and he had it out half the time when he teased the crowd when he was on stage.

He definitely knew how to use it.

After the both of you calmed yourselves down, you cuddled yourselves up against each other much like earlier on as you carried on watching another shitty comedy. You watched them into the night again and you only noticed you half dozed off when you felt a soft kiss being pressed to your neck again.

“Matty” You murmur after feeling another lone tired kiss against the skin on your neck.

He must pick up on what you’re about to suggest because he asks, “Can I stay again?”

You nod and say, “Course”

You wanted to kiss and cuddle him for a lot longer than you already had been doing.

“Let’s go to bed, love” Matty says, picking his head up out of your neck and pecks your lips once more.

It leaves a warm feeling in your chest as you turn everything off downstairs before heading to bed.

When you get up to your room Matty’s arm travels around your waist and he hugs you into him. You lean back against him and smile at the feeling of his curls against your skin as he nuzzles himself into your neck again.

“You smell really good” He tells you before placing a kiss to the place where your neck meets your shoulder.

You grin at that, “Thanks, I think it’s just you though. All I can smell is your aftershave”

“Don’t feed the narcissism Darling” Matty spins you around then, “Take the compliment.”

You giggle before you kiss him again, this time with no hesitation at all. Your fingers lace into his curly locks and you pull on it hungrily to keep him close as he continues to walk you back into your bedroom.  

They are just playful kisses coming from the both of you. Nothing too intense at all.

You like the feeling of Matty’s arms wrapped around your lower back pulling you into his body. You like the fact that he wanted you close, because you wanted him just the same.

You both pull away giggling a little when Matty almost trips the both of you over from moving towards your bed a little too fast. But thankfully it just ends in a playful, “Need to slow down. I’d feel bad if I gave you another concussion”

“I get it… I’ve wanted to kiss you for ages

“Well you can kiss me whenever you want” Matty grins pulling you down to straddle his lap which you do.  

“Good to know” You giggle before kissing his pillowy lips again.

After a few more kisses, you’re both very aware of the tiredness creeping its way into your systems despite the new sensations you’re both getting from your lips attacking the others.

“Y/N/N, Darling, you’ve got my joggers on” Matty grins knowing that they are what you gave him to wear last night.

You grin, “You’re right” and then you get up off his lap and grab yourself some new pyjamas from your drawer.

“I can only apologise mister Healy” You say with a smirk as you push them down your legs and step out of them.

Matty wasn’t exactly expecting you to strip in front of him tonight but the fact your gorgeous legs were on display to him for a minute he didn’t stop himself from looking. Your very oversized hoodie now acts as a dress as it hides your underwear from his gaze.

Matty just couldn't take his eyes away from your legs though. He didn’t think he’d ever seen you in a skirt or a dress so actually seeing you in front of him like that just led to new thoughts circling his mind. Or his mind was until you hastily picked them up and launched the scrunched up joggers at his head.

“Ey” Matty called back playfully, holding the joggers in his hands now.

You point to your eyes and silently tell him that is where they are with a knowing grin on your lips. Matty can only press his lips together as an apology before you head to your bathroom to change again like you did the night before.

He didn’t need to get everything on the first day.

After changing and doing your nightly routine you come back to your bedroom to find Matty changed into your joggers and no top like last night and you don’t shy your eyes away from his tattoos this time when he walks past you to use the bathroom himself. Matty catches you looking but he doesn’t comment on it and at this point you don’t really care.

When he gets in bed beside you and he pulls you in to cuddle him you bring him out of his thoughts, “Can I ask you a personal question?”

“Course” Matty says, not having anything to hide from you. Especially if you were going to work out in the end, and he had every intention of you both working out.  

“Do you really not try? Because I always thought you would be the opposite” You ask him curiously, more truths spilling from your lips thanks to your meds.  

Matty asks curiously, “Not try what?” brushing your hair behind your ear so he could see your cute face.

But pout, a little embarrassed, “Don’t make me say it.”

“I genuinely don’t know what you’re talking about.” Matty chuckles, looking at how shy you’d all of a sudden become.  

“In your song yesterday.” You say and it brings Matty a bit more clarity on what you were asking, “You said you lied and you’d never fucked in a car”

Matty grins knowing exactly what you were asking now, but he teases, “So what’s your question?”

“You know my question, why are you making me say it?” You chuckle, getting more flustered with each passing second.

Matty leans down and pecks your lips once before he tells you, “Because you’re cute when you get embarrassed.”

You sigh and whine into his neck, needing to hide when you ask, “Do you actually just lie down and not try?”

“See” Matty chuckles, “Wasn’t that hard to say, was it?”

“Just answer my question.” You whine embarrassed that your stupid fucking meds just let you ask anything under the sun.

“Why don’t you just wait and find out?” Matty giggles, pulling your out of his neck a little bit.

He found it very cute that that was the only thing you got out of his song when you were drugged up the previous day. At least you’d told him you liked it though.  

“Because I’m nervous now. I thought you’d be the opposite.” You say honestly, “And after earlier I’m confused”

“Why are you nervous?” Matty asks looking into your gorgeous Y/E/C eyes, wanting you to feel comfortable with him, “We aren’t doing anything right now.”

“I know.” You say, and then shrug, “Guess you just spoil my fantasies by saying you haven’t fucked in a car.”

“We can fuck in a car if you like?” Matty teasingly offers before leaning in to kiss you again. He mumbles against your lips, “It won’t be a fantasy then.”

You giggle at that but don’t hesitate to kiss him back. When he pulls away you keep him close and as your nose brushes against his, you suggest, “One step at a time, ey?”

Matty loves the little eskimo kiss you’re giving him enough to carry it on for a few more seconds after he nods in response to your suggestion. God you were so cute, he was very lucky that you liked him.

“Can I keep you on these drugs?” Matty questions, “They make you very truthful.”

You roll your eyes when he says, “Quite like you complimenting me and asking me questions you wouldn’t usually. It feeds the ego more.”

You giggle at that.

“Don’t really have much to hide from you anymore.” You tell him truthfully.

Matty wants a little confirmation, surprised by you saying that, “No?”

“Nope” You grin.

“I’m quite glad you like me Darling” Matty says, tucking a loose piece of hair behind your ear.

“I’m glad you like me back Hun” You grin and kiss him again.

The sweet kiss lasts for a couple of seconds before Matty pulls away so you’re both cuddled against each other again now. You definitely liked being close to him and you were glad he was the cuddly type.

But then he makes a joke that makes you playfully smack his chest as you giggle. Of course, your Matty jokes, “Can’t wait to tell our kids you asked me to fuck you and then fainted”

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

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