#her email so i have to print it out for her anyway so i usually just fill both of theirs out in paper but my dad always argues about doing

[nerdie-faerie]

It's the fourth year in a row of me applying for uni maintenance loan and my parents arguing with me about how it works. But this year my brother is also applying to uni so the loan forms got filled out without me knowing but neither him nor my dad fucking read anything or understand uni so they did it fucking wrong

[magicmumu2]

I fucking love librarians. I love libraries. I love books even though I haven't read a physical book and probably 3 to 5 years. I love all of the resources that are available at libraries.

This is in general, but especially today. I'm going to rave poetic about this librarian I talked to today under the cut because I know nobody cares anyway but me.

I haven't been to the library in a couple of years but back when I had had no internet I just didn't pay for it and I would go to the library all the time and check out stuff and use my computer's DVD player I just watch movies that way all the time.

But today I have to print out a document for my doctor which is FMLA paperwork to hopefully save my job and I have my appointment today at 1:30, and I called because lately I've had mobility issues to wear walking even what feels like shorter distances like throughout buildings and stuff like that it is difficult for me because I do have both my leg wraps from complications from diabetes as well as I have respiratory issues due to an ongoing illness that may or may not be caused by mold. Either way it's hard for me to walk very long distances and usually after the activity of getting ready for work walking around the building at work is difficult for me in the morning. Anyway I was talking to the librarian saying hey I know that this library location has the printers upstairs and even with the elevators and stuff my own personal mobility getting not only through the parking lot up the ramp and into the building is going to be hard but also going through the building to get to that elevator and then once I'm out of the elevator going through the building again to get to the computers is the lot for me right now. So I was just asking if there might be anything that they might be able to help me with for any of that or I don't have any mobility AIDS right now partially because of my size and partially because I don't know what else I could get for what I need and if I would rely too much on it and not try and get better. Maybe having a walker or something to lean on or something that unfolds into a chair so I can walk short distances sit down for a couple minutes and then get up and go again but either way I was asking if there might be any way that I can get some assistance there and the librarian is like well I don't know we do have anything like that but let me look into it. I told her well it's just you know FMLA paperwork so if you do know of any branches that are nearby or that I can stop by on my way to my doctor's appointment where the computers and printers might be closer to access within the building that's another option too. But she's like well you know what if this is the closest location to where you live let me see what I can do and she says if it's just FMLA paperwork I will print you know you can email it to us and then say okay it's FMLA paperwork so I'll be happy to send that to you I have it right here. But she looked it up and she found the paperwork online it was and so we just double check that it we were looking at the same document and it was all the right information. And so she said you know what I have it right here I'll print it out for you and I'll leave it at the front desk she took my name and my phone number and I said that's awesome and then she said she wouldn't even charge me for the pages, but pages are like 10 15 cents per page anyway and I was expecting to pay maybe a dollar for all that so I'm like thank you that's awesome. The library anyway for whatever that's worth but I loved that.

She didn't have to but she did and I just love her for that.

I used to want to be a librarian. I went to college at first to take libraries sciences and to try and get a bachelor's or even a masters in some of that and learn like computer stuff because I know a lot of libraries stuff that you do involves a computer and keeping up with their online catalog and holds system and helping people who are there to use the computers for what they need to use computers for.

My favorite memory of a librarian though was when I was probably an early adult before going to college and stuff and I went to a library with my dad and I asked the librarian I said look I don't know the name of this book but this is what I remember from the plot of it and so I don't know if or how you can find this book but I liked it and would like to read it again. I gave her all the information it was a young adult book something about a bunch of kids who were thought to be delinquent but it was because they had these powers that they didn't realize that they had and it was causing trouble for them and so they ended up in this like youth detention or some kind of boot camp kind of place and the main person figures out that it's not them being bad kids it's that these Powers were misconstrued as them causing issues. Like somebody with fire power was you know there for arsonists kind of reasons, and then there's one person who just had extreme luck and could just find things was being there because they thought that he was stealing stuff, and then I think the main person also had a power bike remember what it was. Anyway I told her all this stuff and gave her all the details and she put every little thing she could in her database and we eventually found it. And I remember this only really because one she took the time to talk to me he didn't look to talk about me didn't see him at all frustrated that I wanted to find this book and was just happy to help me the whole time. I also remember because we both were just so excited and happy when we discovered what the book was or found it and I'm like looking at it oh my God this is the book because the cover looks familiar and I looked back of it as a yeah this this is the book I'm looking for. I remember how excited she was when we all found it and I remember that this was near Halloween or on Halloween because she was dressed as a pirate.

There is also a time when I used to just hang out in the library all the time. I remember walking to Miles every way up and down hills and stuff just to get to the one library I liked going to. Because the buses didn't really go there or it took a while for me to get to the buses or the buses that were there didn't run as often as a lot of other buses did. My mom was like as long as you tell me where you're going and she knew that I wasn't going to go out and do weird shit. So I would just tell her I'm going to the library and then walk to the library and then come back and have a backpack full of books that I'd be reading. And that library I walked 2 miles to and from was my first kind of foray and actually reading manga which I didn't really read a whole lot before or after.

Also when I was in early college going to community college I would go to the community college's library because I would be able to be on the computer for a long time and nobody would kick me off nobody cared I was just doing stuff on the computer there and I never ever took a book out there but they always let me be there and let me exist there so I would walk to that community college library which is about a mile or so mile and a half away and I just do that just about everything because I was there initially to get my GED and stuff like that I was taking GED courses there at the time at that community college and then I would just use their library from then on cuz I was still technically a student for a while so I would just go to their library stuff and then even when I wasn't a student anymore but I still had student credentials that they never took away from me I was able to use their computers.

So yes I love libraries. I love librarians.

[petitelepus]

Can I have a academic kny reader thar is a person out side of school with tengen and with wife's and how that manage things

Id this is ok

Summary: You don't work in school like your partners do, but you all love and respect each other. You get off work early and decide to make something for your loved ones.

Warnings: Nothing, Reader is a lousy cook

A/N: Gender Neutral Reader, Tengen Uzui, Makio, Suma, Hinatsuru, Kozo Kanamori, Mitsuri Kanroji

You hummed as you tapped your computer's keys, focusing on your work as a simple office worker. It wasn't a glamorous job but it paid pretty well since you were one of the best there was. Other workers looked up to you and asked for your advice, so many relied on you and your expertise.

Speaking of expertise, you were almost done with work for that day. You glanced at the small clock on your computer's right bottom corner and you realized that you had tons of time before your partners would get out of their work at Kimetsu Academy.

You smiled as you finished your reports, sent them to your supervisor, and just in case printed them also. You picked up the papers, and walked up to the older woman's desk, making sure to clear your throat so she would notice you.

"Chief, I'm done with my work for today." You said as you placed the small stack of papers on her desk before her. The woman squinted her eyes at you through her glasses and picked up the paperwork.

"I see." She nodded, "You could have sent me reports by email, you know?"

"I did that also." You nodded proudly, "So, I was thinking, would it be alright for me to head home early?"

"Sure, you've been recently working late anyways so I don't mind." Chief said and you smiled happily as you bowed lightly, "Thank you!"

You turned to leave when the woman behind you called you by your name, "You're going back home to that partner of yours?"

"Yes, ma'am!" You smiled cheerfully, "Since I'm early, I'm going to somehow surprise them!"

"That's nice," Chief nodded, "Take care."

"Thank you!" You made your way to your desk logged out of your computer and grabbed your case before heading out of the office. As you walked, your coworkers wished you a good day and you returned their wishes with your own.

As you left, you wondered what you should do to surprise your beloved husband and 3 wives. Usually, Tengen, Hinatsuru, Makio, and Suma got off work earlier than you so preparing dinner was usually left to them to do, but since the 3 women usually handled the cooking you thought that a dinner would no doubt be a nice surprise for them!

My, you were such a good partner, as you were always thinking of your loved ones!

You were in a splendid mood as you made your way to the local supermarket to buy some ingredients for dinner… But as soon as you got the shopping basket, you were struck by total confusion. What should you make and how to prepare it?

Before you started dating and then ultimately married Tengen and the 3 women, you were living nearly only with instant cup noodles, frozen pizza, and such. You started to eat healthily and more diversely when you 5 became a thing.

Thinking about it, how hard could it be to buy something frozen and heat it in the oven or buy something and then fry it in the pan? You would need something healthy and delicious, so you grabbed a bag of frozen veggies and some chicken breast. They were no doubt healthy and delicious!

You paid for the groceries and made your way to your house. Despite being an art teacher, Tengen's family had tons of money so you had a pretty nice big house with enough room for 5 people.

As you unloaded the grocery bag, you started to set everything up for dinner. You turned the oven on, added the frozen veggies to the baking tray, and stuck them into the oven. After that, you grabbed a skillet, heated it and once it was hot, you added some butter and then placed the thick slices of chicken on it.

You were actually having pretty fun, no wonder Hinatsuru, Makio, and Suma did this all the time.

Time passed while you were cooking… And for some reason, your chicken was turning black? You realized that the pan must have been too hot so you quickly turned it off and put the skillet and the meat aside. You decided to check the veggies and thinking they were done, you pulled them out and placed them on the counter.

They looked good! You smiled as you grabbed a piece of carrot with a fork and tasted it… But they were so bland, damn, you forgot oil and salt!

They weren't bad… But they definitely were not good either.

You frowned as you swallowed and then you proceeded to cut open the chicken to check, and yes, it was raw inside. Nope, wouldn't be able to eat that, nope. You could stick it into the oven… But as you glanced at the clock, you realized that you were running out of time and you doubted that you would be able to save this dinner with your cooking skills.

Time for plan B!

You quickly grabbed your phone, pressed the speed dial, and waited for someone to pick up on the other end of the line…!

"Hyottoko Pizza, how may we help you?" Came a familiar voice and you nearly cried out, "Kanamori, I need your help!"

"Oh, hi there!" You could hear a smile on Kanamori's face as he recognized one of their best customers, "It's been a while! What would you like to order?"

"The usual pizza set for 5 and fast home delivery! My husband and wives are coming back soon and I don't have anything to feed them!" You cried out and the man chuckled, "Don't worry, I'll have Mitsuri bring pizza to you as soon as possible."

"Thank you, you're a lifesaver!"

"No worries, just be prepared to pay Mitsuri when she arrives!"

"I will, thank you!" You closed the phone and checked the time on the clock on the wall and you panicked. Your partners would be back soon but you couldn't do anything but wait for pizza to be delivered.

Well, you decided to get rid of the evidence of your bad cooking skills and threw the bland veggies and burnt raw chicken into the trash. You were washing the skillet by hand when you heard a scooter's motor park in your driveway and you realized it must have been the pizza delivery!

As the doorbell rang, you grabbed your wallet and rushed to the door.

"Good evening!" It was Mitsuri, the pizzeria part-timer who helped to deliver pizzas and such.

"Oh God, I'm so happy to see you!" You cried out as you opened your wallet and handed the money to the pink-haired girl and gave her a 1,000 yen tip for hurrying your order.

"Oh, thank you!" The young woman smiled happily, "I hope you enjoy your pizza!"

"We will, thank you so much for delivering them!" You both smiled and then she took off with her scooter and you headed inside with your pizza.

You just managed to place the pizzas on the table when the front door opened and your beloved husband and 3 wives stepped inside. They weren't used to you being home before them, so when you rushed to greet them, they were shocked.

"Welcome home!"

"Honey!?"

"You're home early!"

"How are you here?"

"I thought I saw Kanroji drive past us?"

"Ha ha…" You chuckled as you showed the 5 pizza boxes sitting nicely on the dinner table, "I got off early so I thought I might get us something nice?"

"Pizza!" Your partners smiled and despite failing at cooking, you smiled purely thanks to the fact that you managed to feed your loved ones.

"Get in here and let's eat!" You said cheerfully and the man and women took their seats and you all started to eat, you asked how their day at school was because there wasn't such thing as a boring day in Kimetsu Academy and your partners inquired how you were home so early.

It was honestly a nice meal with people you loved so dearly. After the meal, however, when you guys were cleaning, Suma noticed the dirty skillet on the sink, "Honey, did you try frying something?"

"A- I- Ah-!" You tried to figure out what to say when Makio noticed the food in the trash when she was taking empty pizza boxes, "Honey, you cooked!?"

"I- Uh-!" You swallowed as you nodded and slumped in defeat, "Yeah, but I failed so instead of feeding you guys my awful cooking I got us pizza."

The women shared quick glances with each other before smiling.

"That was an extremely sweet thought, Honey," Hinatsuru smiled sweetly as she walked up to you and kissed your cheek, "But please, leave the dinner and other stuff for us."

"But you guys work so hard at school…?" You asked and they smiled at you, "Yes, but you and Tengen work hard also. Feeding the both of you makes us very happy."

"Are you sure?" You asked and all 3 women hugged you, "We're sure."

You couldn't help but sigh in relief as you hugged your wives and then-!

"What's this?"

The 4 of you looked and saw Tengen return into the room from his trip to the toilet. The man looked at you guys and chuckled, "A group hug and I wasn't invited?"

You guys laughed as you opened your arms and the man stepped ahead, hugging you guys just as lovingly as you were hugging each other.

Yeah, all 5 of you worked in totally different lines of business, but you all loved each other just as hard and equally.

[187days]

Day One Hundred Fifteen

It was an early morning after a late night, and it started with a meeting. All the ninth and tenth grade advisors gathered to go over how we want to communicate with our advisees about their NWEA scores. Mrs. R and I had worked with The Principal to draft some talking points, which we presented, along with a weekly timeline for going over student reports (which we showed everyone how to access and print), having students set personal growth goals, having class meetings to discuss schoolwide goals, looking at how the reports can inform course selection, and so on. I was glad Mrs. R did most of the talking because she's better at it than I am, but The Principal thanked us both for our work.

Afterwards, as we were walking down the hall, I thought he might say something about the email exchange I'd had with The Curriculum Coordinator, but he didn't. So I guess everything's cool?

Anyways.

Rather than heading to my room for my prep time, I headed to the staff room the English and Social Studies departments share because it's a bit of a mess, and a lot of the materials on the shelves aren't in use anymore due to changes in curriculum, etc... Mr. N and I decided months ago that we wanted to make it neater, more usable space, and today we finally started cleaning the place out. That meant it actually got messier because we were pulling stuff off shelves and filling trash bags and supply boxes, so we jokingly printed and posted signs like the ones that stores put up when they're under renovation: "pardon our appearance." We'll do more next week, and the progress will start to become more visible.

After that, rather than go teach Global Studies, I had a sub cover my first two sections so that I could attend an IEP meeting. It wasn't a big deal, though, since students were just reading and wrapping up research projects. Not like I had to write super detailed sub plans for that. I did get back in time for about the last ten minutes of the second section- long enough to answer some questions from a student about the book he's reading, proofread some projects, etc...- and then I taught my third section as usual.

During block 4, one of the girls on the track team, who's in Mrs. C's Civics class, came by to ask if I would take her class for a walk around the building because the sub (Mrs. C is out sick) didn't want to walk that far. It's a beautiful day, it's class full of seniors whose work was done, so I said yes. That meant I got to have ten minutes of fresh air and sunshine before going back to my own work.

The rest of the day? Spent it making copies, checking an assignment for Ms. A, speaking to a few other teachers about an incident that had happened in one of the shop classes, and eating delicious chocolate chip cookies the culinary students had baked.

So it wasn't a typical day, but it was a pretty productive and positive one!

[dayntee]

[Fic] That Year at Arlathan University - Ch.12: Developments

Available on AO3 or below the cut as usual.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/61923295/chapters/161454133

(Don’t know why preview isn’t working. Blame mobile.)

Summary: In which Ellana gets more than she bargained for (and also a burger).

Why are chapters getting longer? Why did I spend 6 hours and 500 words of this figuring out how cars work in a crack universe? The world may never know.

*****

She awoke with a hand down her pajama pants, covers thrown off of the bed, and a heat emanating from… well, pretty much everywhere.

‘That is the last time I read the Randy Dowager before bed,’

Ellana took a moment to center herself before turning off her alarm and preparing for the morning. It was hard to chase the very vivid dream from her memory; everything had just felt so real. His mouth on hers, the heat of his skin, the way he’d crushed her body to his and ran his hands up her thigh…

It was a good thing the water in her shower was running cold anyway.

As she brushed her teeth, she ran over the events of the previous day. She hadn’t seen Solas at all, now that she thought about it—particularly not after she left the printed email on his desk. It was just as well; this conversation was going to be awkward as hell no matter what. At this point, though, the ball was really in his court; she’d done her part of alerting him to any potential problems. Hopefully he hadn’t found it too embarrassing.

Worst case scenario, she would make it clear no harm was done and they could move on with their day like normal.

She put a quick breakfast of oatmeal and fruit together and opened her laptop to check her email ahead of the work day. She didn’t need to be in any earlier than lunch, but she and Solas had made a habit of grabbing a meal together before their first afternoon class, and it was easier to simply meet him in the office while grading papers or working on one of her research topics. Today, though, she might have to have a change of plans.

There was an email from Josephine Montilyet on behalf of the Dean’s office. She opened it and skimmed over the contents quickly, and felt her heart rate begin to increase and a smile grow on her face. One of the side projects handled by the arrangement between Arlathan University, the Chantry, and the Veil Jumpers was the excavation of the major Arlathan ruins, located outside the city proper. Students could often volunteer for credit, but occasionally, teachers would also be tasked to assist with particular ruins of note or significant importance.

One such site had been found and the Dean’s office was extending her an offer to be the cultural resource consultant on the dig; resources were still being allocated and ground would not be broken until after the new year, but all that meant was she had time to prepare if she accepted.

She skimmed the high level information; until she gave her answer, details were scarce. All that was indicated was that it was some kind of small temple, and her insight into modern Dalish traditions and beliefs was likely to be relevant to these findings.

‘How could I possibly say no?’ she responded to the email immediately, wasting no time at all, and spun on her little kitchen barstool with excitement.

This was the real stuff! She hadn’t even been here a full year and already she was being looked to as an expert in her field. Sure, maybe it was a smaller site, one where she could simply find her footing. That made it no less exciting.

Everything else on her mind was instantly forgotten; all she could think about was how she couldn’t wait to tell Solas.

*****

She practically skipped her way into the office. It was empty, given that Solas was usually teaching other courses through the majority of the morning, but she figured she’d settle in anyway and get some grading done before he arrived. She flicked on the light, dropped her bag onto her desk, took off her jacket and scarf, and was just about to settle in when she saw it.

Her wolf figurine was facing her. Again.

The last time this had happened, the rest of her day had gone atrociously (at least up until part way through dinner). She supposed, in retrospect, it wasn’t all bad… But she still wasn’t going to risk it, either. Looking around, as though she’d be caught by some omnipresent, invisible force, she reached forward and turned it quickly to face the door once more.

Surely she wasn’t imagining things, right? She had definitely properly arranged the figure to face the door twice now, once when she had been talking to Solas and once that Friday afternoon. Maybe a student coming in for open office hours was moving it. Or the cleaning staff while they did their work?

It couldn’t be an omen or anything. ‘That would be ridiculous,’

She set up her laptop in her docking station and tried her best not to keep glancing at the thing. There were things to do, papers to grade, and literally anything else to think about.

Her email chimed again; Josie had responded to her acceptance of the offer.

Professor Ellana Levellan,

We are thrilled to hear you are excited for this opportunity! This effort will be funded in part by a new benefactor to our university. To welcome them to this partnership and unveil several of their projects, a formal dinner will be held next Thursday, kicking off the Satinalia festivities to be held the next day. Please note that Satinalia is observed by all students and faculty, so no classes will be held.

Your invitation is attached; please RSVP at your earliest convenience and indicate your attendance, dining preference, allergy indications, and whether you will be accompanied by a plus one.

Kind Regards,

Josephine Montilyet

AU Finance Officer

Ellana raised her eyebrows; first a new opportunity, and now a fancy dinner? This was… a lot. Like, a lot a lot. She’d been to feasts, of course, but they’d largely been for Dalish celebrations like the Arlathvhen or clan wedding rites. Nothing quite like this.

She took one breath in, then one breath out in a long exhale. Obviously she’d need to attend, but where did she even start?

“Maybe I could ask Harding,” she mumbled to herself, opening a web browser and starting a poorly worded search for ‘how to attend a fancy party.’

“Ask Harding what?” the voice startled her and she slammed her laptop closed with a yelp. Solas cocked an eyebrow at her curiously from the door, glancing purposefully at her laptop before back up to her again.

“O-oh. Hi Solas. Nothing. Just… Hm,” her thoughts stuttered out, and suddenly all she could think about was a wildly inappropriate dream from the night before. She hadn’t been doing anything that embarrassing or inappropriate, but by the gods, it sure looked like it now.

‘What the fuck is wrong you?!’

Solas gave her a curious look, a slight smile twinging his lips as she fumbled, and she could tell he was doing everything in his ability to not laugh at her.

“I… see. Informative,” his tone was teasing and he gave her a nod before moving past, and she swore he stifled a chuckle outside her view. She could feel the tips of her ears warming and did her best to ignore it.

She took a deep breath as he unpacked his own bag and settled into his desk, docking his own laptop to work on something or other, and once she felt herself calm, she turned in her seat to look at him. He raised an eyebrow again questioningly.

“I got a digsite offer,” she said quietly with a smile, and as he clocked the words, she saw his eyes brighten in recognition.

“Really? What will you be overseeing?”

“I don’t know yet. Apparently I have to attend some fancy shindig for a briefing on it,” she shrugged.

“That is unusual protocol. Normally they would simply send you the details once you have accepted the offer,”

“Josie said it’s because some new financial partner has made a deal with the school. There weren’t a ton of details, just an invitation and-“ she had noticed he stiffened and seemed to be lost in thought. “Is something wrong?”

“…She did not indicate who the beneficiary is?”

“No, just that they will be funding several projects. I’d guess I’m not the only one invited,” she shrugged again. His brows were knit together and he appeared lost in thought.

“Ellana, there are…” he stopped, and brought his hands up, tenting them in front of him. “Actually, I would rather speak of this elsewhere. Perhaps we take our meal off campus today, if you are amenable?”

“Sure,” she agreed tentatively; Solas was acting weird. She hadn’t often seen him unnerved, finding that it made her nervous in turn. He began shutting his laptop down and packing it away. “Wait, do you mean now?”

He nodded. “I can drive, if you like,”

That was a surprise. “You have a car?” Personal vehicles were generally rare, though not entirely unheard of; if anything, it was simply because they were often expensive to keep and maintain.

He gave a small smile. “I would consider it more of a collectible,”

*****

She had so many questions on the drive to lunch.

It turned out that Solas was one of a handful of owners of a very rare, very old type of vehicle dating back to the tail end of the Blessed Age, in the midst of what was now viewed as the Dalish industrial revolution. As Nevarra and Orlais had busied themselves with war and conflict, the Dalish had taken the opportunity of their oppressors turning a blind eye to establish their cultural preservation society, the group that would one day evolve into the Veil Jumpers. Their discovery of several archaeological artifacts during this time initiated a technological race with other nations, and one clan particularly dedicated to June had experimented with enhancing their aravels with magically powered travel.

Personal vehicles were rare, as the cost was expensive. Fueling them for long spans came at a cost of either heavily refined lyrium or the active supply of a mage’s mana. It had been easy to forget that Solas was a mage, given there was little need for day-to-day use of magic without a present threat of a blight or war.

“Is this an authentic Aragavira?” she wondered, taking a close look and almost afraid to touch the antique herself. It was a smaller roadster, only suitable for two passengers including the driver, but it’s compact design and sleek frame suggested it could travel move quite fast. “I’ve only heard about them, I’ve never seen one up close before,”

“It is,” he had confirmed, seemingly amused by her nearly child-like wonder. “An 8:72 Morlyn model, to be precise.”

“8:72?! It’s in such nice condition!” she gasped, and the look she threw him was practically scandalized. “You just drive an almost 70 year old antique around?”

“That is what it was built to do,” he shrugged, and he moved past her to open the passenger seat, gesturing for her to get in. The seats were plush, treated halla leather, and the rest of the interior was paneled with a lacquered, treated wood.

He closed the door behind her, moving to and entering the driver’s seat.

“I feel like this thing is worth more than my life savings,”

“To an appropriate buyer, it probably is,” he admitted with another shrug. “I did not procure it recently; it is somewhat of an heirloom,”

Solas didn’t often talk about where he was from or what his family or clan was like; she had assumed from the get-go he was not Dalish, given his lack of vallaslin, and he had confirmed as much. Still, to have such a historically important piece of Dalish history in his possession was simply astounding.

She asked him a number of questions along the way; how it felt to drive it, how often he used it, how far or how fast it could go. He happily answered all her questions, and they both found that the drive to a small, dingy burger shack on the outskirts of town as over sooner than either expected. A poorly maintained sign showing traces of building rust read “Tasty’s” on the outside, and after he parked, she couldn’t help but stare for a moment.

“I know how it may look, but I promise you will be surprised. If you have never had a proper Feralden burger, there is no better place,”

A middle-aged, stocky Feralden woman with a dour look but cheery disposition ran the small shack, barely large enough to hold the kitchen inside. Several picnic tables were set up outside for seating, as there was certainly no room in the shack for it. There were few other business within immediate distance; while the restaurant (if it could be called such) was not in the middle of nowhere, it may as well have been on the edge of it.

After they had acquired their food and taken up at a table, she noticed he waited for her to eat first, as if he was evaluating her approval. In all honesty, it smelled incredible, and after she took her first bite, she realized he’d been entirely correct.

“Gods, this is good,”

“I am glad you approve,”

They ate more or less in silence, as one often does when presented with a meal that’s too delicious to put down, and as their main course was finished and they moved on to the fried fingerling potatoes, he spoke again.

“I believe we can return to our previous conversation now,” he started.

“Oh, sure, now that I want to fall into a food coma,” she exaggeratedly groaned in response and ignored his smirk. “Anyway, it seemed like this situation’s pretty unusual?”

Solas’ expression grew more serious and he nodded. “They must be significant persons of note if they are being celebrated in such a manner. By now, you should have been sent a full debrief of the intended site and what to expect.”

“The e-mail did say they wouldn’t break ground until the new year.”

“While that could account for the delay in details, it does not account for the pomp and circumstance. Do you recall the research and investigation I have been pursuing?”

Ellana started; it was such a different subject, she wasn’t sure how it was related.

“You mean your theory on the elvhen pantheon being mortals?”

“Indeed. I…” he hesitated, thinking carefully over his words. “I have reason to believe at least one of the Evanuris walks among us in the present,”

Ellana was halfway to eating another potato when it dropped unceremoniously from her mouth. “Excuse me?”

“I warned you my investigations might seem… rather unbelievable,”

“Solas, you just told me one of my gods is a mortal being that’s also been alive for thousands of years. How is that not unbelievable?”

“Perhaps I should start from the beginning. I may not believe in the ancient elven gods as your people do, but I do believe something existed to start the legends. Spirits, or perhaps powerful mages. What is a god if not a being of power who leaves behind a legacy of faith?”

“That is a broad definition,”

“Is it no different than the raising of Andraste as the Maker’s Herald? We have proof Andraste was a living, breathing person, one who commanded power and whose legends have stood for centuries. What we do not have proof of is her actual divinity,”

“I see why you didn’t want to have this conversation on campus,”

He chuckled, “One of many, yes.” There was a softer look in his eyes with that statement, and she felt her heart skip a beat. She didn’t press further.

“Okay, so… for the sake of argument, say this mortal god walks among us. How have they survived for thousands of years?”

“How much do you know of Ancient Elvhenan?”

“Most of what you’ve published in at least your public papers, and the little more you’ve told me since I started here,”

“Then you know your stories are at least half right. Elves were immortal once. The Evanuris were simply the strongest of the most ancient of us,”

“I thought our people lost our immortality when the humans arrived?”

“A coincidence, I suspect. My current theory suggests another event occurred prior to the humans’ arrival that is the actual culprit. But forgive me, we have strayed from the topic. What I am about to share with you I have only shared with a select few at the University. I ask for your discretion in this matter,” he was deathly serious. Before she realized what she was doing, she reached across the table and put her hand atop his. She felt him flinch for a moment before relaxing again.

“I would never betray your trust, Solas,”

A small smile. He took another deep breath, as though he were preparing to release a weight from his shoulders.

“The Evanuris are not dead, but rather trapped, specifically in the Fade. At least, most of them. I have… friends who have witnessed their resurgence, and I believe they will soon be making a play to reclaim their power in the waking world, as gods amongst men,”

“That is… a lot,”

“What it should be is terrifying,” his eyebrows knot together and he turned his hand up, taking hers gently in his. “They are playing ancient games with modern tactics, which suggests they are not alone in their efforts. Financial investments are but one of the strategies we’ve observed, and I…” his hand squeezed hers softly, a thumb running over her knuckles. He grew quieter, softer. “I would not see you in harm’s way.”

Ellana did her best to ignore the butterflies threatening to burst from her chest, swallowing down emotion and not insignificant amount of panic. “You think these new investments in the University are from them?”

“I have reason to believe so,”

“What…” she took a steadying breath, realizing she was trembling. “What should I do?”

“Well, you have already accepted the position. I am afraid that means you are involved regardless,”

“So I should just continue on as if everything is perfectly normal?” she was incredulous at the notion; was the work she was going to be doing for or against her people? She honestly wasn’t sure, and the latter notion sickened her.

“I do have thoughts on how to proceed, if you are willing,”

“I mean, shoot. I might already be at the behest of a god’s whims, how much worse can it get?”

“Indeed,” he grinned lopsidedly for a moment, and released her hand; she found she missed the warmth already. “Would you be willing to report back your findings to me separately? In addition to your expected duties, of course.”

“Spy for you?” she inhaled, bringing her hands back to hug herself. This day was going all kinds of sideways from the moment she woke up. “I… I trust you, Solas. We might have gotten off on the wrong foot when we met, but…” she smiled gently at him. “I’d like to think you’re my friend, and I appreciate that you’re looking out for me.”

“Yes, well,” he seemed to break her gaze intentionally. “What are friends for, after all?” he stood, adjusted the glasses on the bridge of his nose, and began gathering the remnants of their meal to dispose of it. “We should probably head back before we are late for our lectures.”

Ellana felt like she had missed an opportune moment, but he was right; their talking had gotten the best of them, as it often did. She helped him clean up and they made their way back.

The ride back was quiet this time, Ellana deep in thought about all the information Solas had shared with her. It was life altering. No, world altering. And he was right—it was also terrifying. Just as many of the tales of her gods were about their righteous anger as they were their care or protection, and given the way Solas had framed the conversation, she was willing to bet there was more truth in the former stories than the latter.

He pulled into his parking spot, but paused before exiting the vehicle. Ellana sensed his hesitation and turned to look at him.

“I know this is… a lot to take in. I am sure there will only be more in the coming months. But I am here if you need me. For anything,”

Perhaps she had a moment after all.

“Actually,” she started. “I did have one thing. You see, I’ve never really been to this kind of function before… Dalish parties aren’t exactly… well, you know. Would you like to come with me?” Ellana realized, of course, she was basically asking him out on a date, but the guise of a work function proved enough of a safety net to get the question out.

There was a pause and a moment of surprise crossed his face fleetingly.

“If that would make you feel more comfortable with the matter, of course,”

She exhaled a breath she didn’t know she was holding. “That’s good, because I really have no idea what I’m doing,” she laughed in spite of herself, raising a hand to her forehead in a steadying manner.

He smiled and indicated they should start their walk, both leaving the vehicle and Solas locking it up as they headed to the Halamshiral Hall.

“I would be happy to brief you on function expectations; I have been to a few similar events in the past,”

“That would be amazing. Thank you,” she was so much more relaxed as they reached the crossing of two hallways where their paths would divide, taking them to their intended destinations. As she turned to leave his side and say goodbye, she caught what she believed to be a smirk, only to be confirmed as he leaned in close and murmured quietly.

“I could not possibly turn down a request to lend an extra hand, least of all from you,”

His breath was hot on her ear for but a moment. Then he was gone, turned and headed in the opposite direction as though nothing at all had transpired, leaving a bright red, flustered Ellana who was coming to grips with a number of puzzle pieces suddenly fitting uncomfortably together.

She wasn’t sure what was was worse—knowing that the next few days would be in his close proximity while knowing he knew what he knew, or the overwhelming panic of needing to prepare herself for an event that was certainly out of her depth.

*****

Notes:

Aragavira - (made up word in el’vhen) - a play on Aravel, meaning “a path to here/a place to go”

HE KNOWS. SHE KNOWS. THEY BOTH KNOW!

Now just make out already, jeez.

I think ya’ll can see where I’m going now with plot, at least somewhat. Solas still has some secrets he’s keeping close, but this version of him is a little more trusting than others.

Special thanks to my husband for helping me figure out the most pretentious car I could give this guy, and to Kai for her incredible El'vhen Dictionary that helped me name the stupid thing (ya'll have no idea how long I spent on car stuff writing this). I appreciate you so much for your feedback and this amazing resource! (For real, writers and linguistic nerds should really check it out).

Fun fact - this is the longest chapter so far. How do you prefer longer chapters? Better? Worse? Prefer the bite-sized ones more? Let me know!

[batsyforyou]

I cannot express my joy at finding a blog that writes for Stargate! And active too! Can I ask you to write a letter from Sheppard? I am a girl, I have red-ish brown hair and blue eyes. I have a sweet personality, kinda soft and soft spoken. I LOVE to bake and cook. I also like to knit. I’m like one of those pink, soft, super girly people if that helps. In the letter, now you don’t have to do this, but can the situation be married and first baby on the way? If not that’s fine! ❤️❤️❤️❤️

Tags: Love letter, hinted pregnancy 

Pairing: John Sheppard x fem reader 

Author’s Note: I gave this my best! I hope you enjoy anon! Side note I've been dying to use these ribbons so yeah.

Surprise!

You sat at the kitchen table eating your hard earned breakfast, an omelet, a smoothie and some cut fruits. You sighed and rubbed your swollen belly feeling the baby kick. Being alone on Valentine’s Day wasn’t ideal but honestly you were just glad to know that your husband was still alive. He sent messages weekly if not every two weeks giving you comfort when he could and apologizing for not being there. You sent messages back of course, sending him updates about the baby and telling him how much you missed him.

Today wasn’t an exception but instead of a recorded video or printed email it was a letter with a dried herb attached to the corner, dangling like some kind of key chain. You’d never seen it before but it was very pretty. 

Munching on a carrot you ripped open the seam and pulled out the folded paper. 

“Dear Y/n,” You read aloud, “As usual, I have no idea what to say to make things better... I hope you're doing well, and I’m sorry I can’t be there for you. I know things must be rough right about now, but you’ve always been strong in your own way. 

I would much rather be with you than listening to Rodney go on and on ‘bout his usual nonsense. Oh, you remember Teyla? The woman I mentioned before? Yeah, well, turns out she is pregnant too. I didn’t even know she was seeing anyone. 

Anyway, if this reaches you before or after Valentine's Day, happy Valentine's Day. 

Teyla sends her love and I send mine. 

John.” 

You grin and giggled, rubbing your belly, typical John. 

Startled, you heard a noise at the door, and got up to look. Turning the corner you gasp, John stood there with a sheepish grin on his face with his bags around his feet. 

“Happy Valentine’s Day.”

Masterlist

[olderjodijournals]

Monday, July 1, 2002

Stamps went up 3 cents. 37 cents is a bit much to be mailing as many letters as I have to Paula. Besides, unlike Mary, I never hear back from her, so I’m gonna cut my letters to once a month to her. She never even emailed me back.

Tom signed us up for AOL, but last I knew he couldn’t get it working, so we may stay with Earth Links.

So far, my 195 photos have been viewed 19 times (no downloads yet), the rats being the most viewed, believe it or not. I have 7 albums in all – 1 land, 2 rats, 2 mice and 2 dolls. One of the dolls and one of the mice albums has yet to be viewed. I emailed Mary about it, but they don’t get their mail too often so they might not know about it yet.

My dolls are really nice compared to what I saw which was mostly paper dolls. Paper dolls, can you believe it? Boring! A lot of Barbies, too.

I decided to begin a new collection as soon as I can – a rat and mouse mug collection. This site makes mugs, t-shirts, prints, mousepads, key chains, etc. Besides, my dog and cat mugs are getting rather old.

Sure enough, one of the prairie dogs was looking up at the window at me, silently pleading for a treat, so I threw a carrot out. There are a few baby prairie dogs out that are quite cute.

A slew of new dolls hit PG. They have a really nice 30” showgirl for $149. I may get her instead of Chari sometime next January. I won’t be able to make woman dolls so easily that require special outfits that I can’t get just anywhere, like at a department store. I’ll probably have to buy these kinds of dolls. It’d be easier, anyway.

A couple of days ago I emailed PG to get a date on when Carmencita was mailed and they told me she went out on the 18th. That means she should be here by Tuesday, though after 7 dolls, I certainly do know better.

Whatever was eating at my throat and energy levels the last couple of days is gone.

Tuesday, July 2, 2002

I just realized that I haven’t seen that many iguanas this year, though I don’t know why.

Those vultures are huge! I just tried to get a shot of them, but they flew away. These things are bigger than some small dogs! I did get a good quail family shot, however. It’s a bit hard to see the babies, but they’re oh-so-cute! They’re barely palm-size, and it’s so cute how they follow Mom around.

My 195 photos have now been viewed 29 times. Still no downloads, though. I’m adding two more albums; a third doll album and a wildlife album. That’ll make 9 albums in all.

We couldn’t get AOL to work. Of course not! After all, you wouldn’t think God would allow us to save a whole $100 bucks a year, would you? At least he ought to be really happy with me for this album thing. After all, I’m serving the public for free.

I got rid of the Carmelhead, as I’d call her. I have one too many crazies as it is, so now I have 5 rats: Little Buddy, Little Ratsy, The Spotless Ratsy, The Carpet Rat and Blackie. I have 3 mice, too: Pearl, Cutie and Half-Patch.

Got a quick note from Mary thanking me for the letters and promising to answer them as soon as she can, but she’s been sick, she says. She says she even told her family not to visit. I don’t know in what way she’s sick, be it physical or emotional.

I can’t wait till the 11th. It’ll be interesting to see what happens to Hope if anything. Also, the 22nd. That’s when Mary may know if she’ll be hanging around longer or leaving for Florida.

Wednesday, July 3, 2002

Damn this doll curse and damn that post office! I already sent a message to PG, telling them that they let the last doll sit on their shelf for a month without even trying to deliver it, so could they give them a call to double-check for Carmencita? I’ll have Tom leave a note in the box, too. Either way, I know that if I haven’t gotten her by now, I’m in for a wait, as usual.

Why does this always have to happen to me? Why?

In other news, I was standing at the kitchen sink yesterday evening at 7:30 when I heard sirens. My first thought was, oh no! My worst nightmare’s come true, but I didn’t do it! I swear. Whatever they’re here for, I didn’t do it!

Then I thought of the new rental. After all, they’re like the freeloaders only without the music; always something going on back there. Sure enough, I peered out back and saw an ambulance there, though I couldn’t tell what happened. All I saw were a few adults and a few kids milling about, then a woman came from either the side or the back of the house and got into the passenger side of the ambulance before it took off.

Nothing going on back there that I can see of today. God, they’re an eyesore with all the shit they’ve got on their property, though like I said before, better seen than heard. There’s always someone home too, so maybe there’s an elderly person living there that needs caring for and that’s who the ambulance was for. Tom even suggested this. Remember, we live in a time when homemakers are bashed, even if they have small kids, so it’s unlikely that someone’s home all day without some other reason. Also, it’s very hard to afford even junk houses on just one income, and most people don’t make what Tom makes in this state. He makes excellent money for Arizona.

The more I think about it, the more I think it’s the house that ends up in front of us that I’ve got to worry about. It’ll be the closest house to us, something God will no doubt take note of. If the closest house to us in Phoenix had been the house across the street, then that’s where the blacks/Mexicans would’ve been fated to end up.

Tom and I made a few deals. He says he promises to bury the old plastic piping that keeps getting blown around this weekend that’s sitting in the wash, and he says we can get fences in January.

We’ll see, but with or without the freeloaders and Scot hanging over me like a dark cloud, being the never-ending shadow that exists in my life, I want this damn property fenced! I’m sick of having to worry about dogs approaching me whenever I go out. I’d feel a lot less exposed, and we wouldn’t have to lock the gate. Not unless I was planning on sleeping during cheek hours. Otherwise, locks would be useless against anyone up to no good, cuz all they’d have to do is cut the thing with metal cutters.

Anyway, I’d be willing to bet my dolls on Scot’s not lessening the home visits as the so-called end gets nearer. I think he’ll play this up to the end just like I’ve always said. And just because he hasn’t said anything, I’m not gonna assume I beat this class bullshit, either. If October 30th of ’03 were tomorrow, I still wouldn’t assume this was a closed chapter in my life. After the way I’ve been lied to, tricked and manipulated in every conceivable way, why should I believe anything I’m told now?

Because Scot came so late in June, I wonder if this means he’ll skip July altogether and come in early to mid-August after it’s been about 6 weeks? It’s just so asinine that I have to see him as often as I do over a letter. If I’ve got to be on probation, I shouldn’t be seeing him more than once a month. I’ve seen him 37 times already in the 13 months I’ve been home. What did those pigs say about me?! They no doubt said I was this dangerous monster from hell! Tom said that that would’ve been the impression that was given, too. Yeah, I’m sure it was. Always gotta exaggerate, the fucking pigs.

Though it would be nice if they’d magically disappear, I don’t want all the blacks and Mexicans to die; I just want them to leave us alone and get the fuck out of our lives! They’re not going away and I know that, so as long as they cannot interfere with our everyday lives, I’ll live with them. I have no choice. I just don’t want them ever again to make their business ours and to get me thrown in jail when they’re the perpetrators who provoked me and deserved whatever it is I might’ve given them.

But I know better now. There’ll be no words either out of my mouth or on paper should this ever happen again. In Arizona, you either beat your tormentors off your back or you simply sit back and take their shit till one of you moves.

Anyway, I’m guessing there’ll be about 10 more visits here from Scot, so when you add that, plus my visits to him, plus the times I’ve already seen him, that’s nearly 80 times I’ll just have to see him in a 2½-year period over a letter!

I’m just so afraid of being set up again! They already know we won’t fight back, though I intend to surprise them next time around now that I know the law better, but because I’ve sent a message to the state saying I’ll take whatever shit they feel like dishing out to me, that could make me a little more vulnerable to more corruption and abuse by this fucked up system.

Later…

Wow. It’s actually thundering out there right now. The winds are dead calm, though, and judging by the looks of the clouds, I doubt we’ll get any real rainfall. At least the clouds cool things off a bit, even if it makes for more humidity. It brings the renters outside more, too.

Later…

The usual slew of workers is in back now. It looks like this time around they’re working on their cooler.

We had a few minutes of rainfall, but now it’s clearing up.

No photo album viewing for yesterday.

Still no response from PG, either. Hopefully, they’re getting on the PO’s ass about delivering me the damn doll rather than just saying that they tried to. Or maybe they’re going to wait till it’s been 30 days from when the doll was shipped. In that case, the doll will just have to sit at the PO till then. Maybe not, though, if Tom will agree to put the note in the box.

Finished proofreading 1987-1993, so now I’ll begin 1994.

Thursday, July 4, 2002

PG completely blew me off yesterday. I was surprised. I expected some response, either way, not to be ignored. I guess this means they’re not gonna do anything for a couple of weeks or so. Meanwhile, Tom put the note in the mailbox at the PO. I know, though, that due to this doll curse that’s on me for whatever reason, she’s going to have to sit at the PO for a while, since she wasn’t back-ordered. In other words, I can’t simply order a doll and get it within the normal 7-10 business days. Tom thinks it’s in transit and that it’ll be here Monday, but I don’t think so. Not with the track record I have with getting dolls in the mail. This is San Diego we’re talking about coming from, not Boston. So how can it take that long?

Later…

Tom’s up now working on the car’s AC. It’s not gonna cost us the $300 to fix like we thought it would. It’ll cost about $30, but he realized just now that he needs an adapter he doesn’t think he has. Yeah, I knew we were gonna have to sweat our asses off tomorrow going to Scot, the restaurant and the doll store.

We ought to have two special accounts, I told him. The Breakage Account and The Freeloader Account.

Later…

I should’ve fucking known better than to think this AC bullshit would cost just $30. It turns out the problem’s not what he thought it was, but he doesn’t know what it is.

Friday, July 5, 2002

I’m ever so glad that someone created misters since the car’s AC is still broken.

Anyway, I was in and out of seeing Scot fairly fast. What held us up a bit was some girl who was talking about going out of town.

This time I asked him – don’t you remember? – when he asked how long I got. He chuckled and said that with 70 clients, he couldn’t. Then he said I could do the rest of it standing on my head.

Maybe, if he doesn’t wake me up or bring up classes again.

After we left him and hit Circle K for some drinks, we originally planned to go to the doll store, then to the Olive Garden, then to Walgreens, then maybe a pet store. But once we got to the doll store, I was like – oh, I have to have this doll! We can forget about Walgreens (I was going to look for a coffee bean grinder) and the pet store.

They had a 40% off the entire store sale, and I ended up getting this gorgeous 16” vinyl fashion doll. I was surprised it was vinyl. I could’ve sworn it was porcelain at first, but it’s a very hard vinyl Tyler Wentworth doll. It’s normally $80, but we got her for $47, plus tax which put her at $51. I rounded her off to $50 in my doll chart file.

Anyway, she has rooted brown hair in a high-pitched ponytail, light-painted eyes, and is as poseable as a Barbie doll. She’s dressed as a businesswoman, wearing a white cotton blouse with lapels that button down the front with elbow-length sleeves, a black knee-length wool skirt, black stockings and black velvet high-heeled pumps. For accessories, she has a black leather belt with a gold buckle, a white beaded necklace and dangling gold and pearl earrings. I polished her nails metallic carnelian.

I never thought I’d like a vinyl doll so much. She’s way more realistic-looking and better proportioned than Barbie. I can see myself getting one or two more of these. I don’t need a lot of them cuz they’re still overpriced for vinyl, but I want the black and the oriental ones they have. They’re just so nice for someone who was never really into vinyl before. Perhaps when they have another sale again, I can get another one. I’m on their mailing list now.

They also have porcelain fashion dolls, too. Maybe when we take classes Tom can make one of those, and I’ll make the doll they recommend starting on – the same sleeping baby JBS recommends. Yeah, it looks like we’re gonna be taking classes with them. But when we don’t know yet. Perhaps in the fall because they’ll have more daytime classes then.

Tyler also came with a portfolio containing pictures of other fashion outfits. I checked out the website I found in it. The dolls range from $50-$150. The average one seems to be $80-$120. Pricey, but nice. Perhaps I can make porcelain ones in the future and just buy their outfits. The outfits are a bit pricey too, at around $40-$60 apiece. I think they’re worth it, though. You can get dressed dolls, outfits, shoes and other accessories.

Their store was much bigger and nicer than JBS’s.

So, as of right now, I have 2 dismembered and dead dolls, 13 packed away, and 29 displayed throughout the house. On display, I have 9 blondes, 1 redhead, 7 brunettes, 1 with auburn hair, and 11 with black hair. Hopefully, soon enough, there’ll be another brunette, another redhead and another with black hair. PG finally emailed me back, saying they couldn’t call the post office and that they recommended we use UPS. Well, UPS does come here, but we don’t want people coming to the house, even if it’s not every day that I get dolls. The doll may’ve come in yesterday cuz now they’re saying it was shipped on the 20th. Tom will find out tonight if she’s there and pick her up on Monday if she is.

After we got the doll and asked more about classes, we went to the Olive Garden. It was pretty good, but as usual, I had to sit and listen to a screaming kid throughout it all. He got lasagna and I got Alfredo with shrimp, muscles, crawfish, scallops and mushrooms.

Saturday, July 6, 2002

Cool. They’re gonna send me weekly emails with my album statistics. So far my 223 pictures have been viewed 30 times with 0 downloads and 0 guestbook entries. Guestbook entries are where people can leave comments regarding your albums.

Sunday, July 7, 2002

Paula B is going to be one happy lady! I went and fixed up the dolls I no longer want which are a dozen in all. My original plan was to try to sell them at a consignment shop when I was making my own dolls, but then I thought about surprising Paula with them. I won’t tell her to look for them till they’re on their way. She’ll be one ecstatic puppy and will love each and every one of them. She doesn’t have the picky tastes I do, as far as I know. This will no doubt be the opportunity of a lifetime for her; getting 12 dolls at once. Not even I got that many at once! This is roughly $250 worth of dolls, too. She’s getting Anne, Edie, Mary, Christina, Katie, Ashley, Shauna, Melanie, Stephanie, Selena, Nakita and Misha. They range in size from 12” sitting dolls to 22” standing dolls. She’ll get 5 blondes, 1 redhead, 1 with black hair, and 5 brunettes. There are 3 with blue eyes, 3 with green eyes, 3 with gray eyes, and 3 with brown eyes.

I took pictures of them after I fixed them up and got them fully dressed right down to the shoes, with stands for 9 of them that bear their names underneath. Then I created another doll file, so now I’ll have a file on my own dolls, then any I give away or sell.

Instead of putting them all in one big box, as Tom pointed out, it’s best not to put all our eggs in one basket, so we’ll ship them in 2-3 boxes. It’ll be about a month, though.

I’m watching these adorable cottontails out front right now, eating the bread I threw out. I see that same quail family every day too, and of course, the prairie dogs.

Tom started burying the plastic pipes with dirt in two different places in the front wash. Eventually, he’s going to create a loop driveway and this is how he’ll drive over the wash.

Before, with no dirt on them, the wind would kick them up. This morning he caught a dog playing with them. Yeah, I remember seeing dogs playing with them a while back, and you know, that is really fucked up. Totally fucked up. This is Maricopa. The city’s where you’re supposed to have problems with dogs and trash!

“But we’ve got 100 times more land here,” Tom told me. “You couldn’t even fit this house on the lot in Phoenix.”

Yeah, but I’ll still feel much better when we get fences. Dogs even got into the trash bin and made a fucking mess so Tom put water in the old umbrella’s stand to put on top of the wire mesh that sits on top of the bin.

Anyway, we may open a PO Box here in Maricopa soon and get a bigger box that’ll allow for bigger packages. Being a small town, it should hopefully decrease the fuck-ups, but I don’t know. People are stupid, be it in big cities or small towns.

Tom re-inked my cartridges and I printed out some doll pictures for Mary. I mostly wanted to show her Tyler, but with my changed settings, I also wanted to show her a close-up of Bailey so she could see how realistic-looking she is. The sharper settings look better on the computer screen, but I don’t think they print out much better. I didn’t print them on the higher-quality setting either, so maybe that’s why they’re still a bit grainy.

Monday, July 8, 2002

Tom, who left a couple of hours ago, is to stop at the PO before work. If the doll’s there, he’ll email me a little later on. I told him not to bother if it isn’t, but watch, he’ll go and email me anyway to get my hopes up for a second there.

Anyway, he thinks it’ll be there, but with their track record, I don’t think it will be. I’d say it’s more likely I’ll have mail from Mary. If I’m right and it isn’t there, then I’m not gonna know what to believe. Meaning, I won’t know if it’s the PO’s fault, or if it wasn’t yet shipped. I still don’t see why it’s such a big deal to send me the dolls I order within a week. It’s like – just grab the dolls off the shelf I ordered and deliver them to the fucking address we give you! Is that so hard? Obviously, it is, and this tells me it’s a curse. If it had been a few dolls every now and then, then I’d say it wasn’t, but every single fucking doll?

I can’t swear to it, but I might’ve finally heard from the renters last night. I’ve heard faint spurts of music the last couple of nights. Two nights ago, it was louder at the back of the house than at the front, and even louder at the utility end, telling me it couldn’t be the renters. It was probably at Dan’s. Last night when I heard music at 11:00, I looked out back and saw no lights at the renter’s. Again I assumed it was either the renters or someone else entirely. But when I heard it later on as late as 1:00, the front light was on at the renter’s. It dimmed for a sec as if someone was going to turn it off, then changed their mind, so I don’t know for sure where it was coming from or if it was from multiple sources or what. In the backwash of light, I couldn’t tell if anyone was hanging outside. Unfortunately, they have evaporative coolers, which means that if they do have a house stereo turned up, they can afford to let the sound out through open doors/windows.

Also, they seem to have changed schedules with the seasons. They seem to be asleep throughout most of the days, then out and about at night when it’s cooler like the blacks were. The Mexicans were round-the-clock people, but mostly night creatures. In the winter, 4 out of 5 times I looked out back, I’d see people. I’d still really like to get privacy hedges of some kind someday. They’re not only an eyesore, but they’re just too visible for me. If they didn’t have so much shit in their yard and they weren’t constantly hanging outside, then it wouldn’t matter as much, though they’d still be nice. The whole idea of living out here is to escape civilization. Well, if we ever do have an Arizona room or a pool someday, I don’t want to have to see people most of the time I go out. They’re a little close for comfort, though the people next door are closer and the house across the street will be even closer once it gets here. I guess the land’s still for sale in front.

I couldn’t stand to live in a place with no AC during the monsoons! And I’m sure they don’t have any AC. Just the EC and a furnace.

Tom brought up the idea of getting 4 small evaporative coolers next spring that you stick in your window just like with air conditioners. Well, it’d certainly save money, but it’d bring in the smell of horse shit. I know from Phoenix that evaporative coolers don’t filter outside smells. I remember smelling all the barbecues in the area as well as the orange blossoms. However, just like with most things we talk about getting for the house or doing with the land, I’m sure it’s just that – talk.

What I’m gonna make damn sure isn’t just talk is the fences we agreed we’d get in January. I’m sick of our yard being a regular playground for Maricopa’s dogs that no one cares about. It’ll be perfect timing too, since by the time they’re up, the kids in back will be getting to that age where they can play outside with less supervision and I don’t want them thinking our backyard belongs to them.

Tom’s so wrong when he says it’ll take a couple of weeks to put up. Even I know it’ll take more like a few months.

Tom and I are now thinking that he might make a large sitting doll to sit on the loveseat in the den. A couch, a chair and a loveseat are a bit much for two people, so why not let some dolls use the extra seating space? In contrast to the black velvet, I’d like him to make a blond doll with green or violet eyes. That is if he wouldn’t mind. If he wants to make an Indian with dark hair and eyes, he certainly can do so.

The more I think about it, the more I believe the outcome would’ve been the same with or without a confession. What fucked me over was pleading guilty, having Paul for a “lawyer” who was my enemy, having the wrong judge, and telling the interview lady that I wouldn’t fight whatever was dished out to me. That’s what got me. I should’ve refused to talk to the pigs, no matter how much they might’ve spited me for it, pled not guilty, and gotten a real lawyer. It’s just that I was determined not to spend any more money on the black bitch than necessary, but what did it matter? We were destined to spend thousands anyway, so why not a few hundred more? I had no way of knowing this at the time, though, of course.

Back when I was having a rough time dealing with Teddy Bear’s blowing me off, I broke down and prayed to God to let me get over her. Then I kicked myself for it and said to myself, are you crazy? When you gonna learn that he doesn’t give a damn?

Yet ironically enough, I haven’t been so hurt over her since. Is it a coincidence or not? I don’t know. I mean, what if I prayed for the sun to rise and set? Could I then say the sun rose and set because I asked him to have it do so? What if I asked him, God, please protect and always watch over my current/future perpetrators? Never let them get caught or pay for any wrong they may do me. But once again, that’s a done deal. So I don’t know about this prayer thing. Given how few prayers he’s granted me, I’d say it’s just a coincidence. I’m getting over her on my own.

The more I think about it, the more I don’t think I want to live in a retirement community in the future. We couldn’t have neighbors as bad as we did in Phoenix, and we may have no choice but to get into the city once we start getting older and the doctor’s office becomes a second home to us, but I know that the people next to us are going to be the ones to have their screaming grandkids over practically every day, not to mention the barking dogs.

Just jumped up to throw a few pieces of bread out for the quails, prairie dogs and bunnies.

I got up to 125 pounds again, so I began cutting my calories a few days ago. I’ve lost 4 pounds. The question now is, do I want to keep going? Or just eat my way back to 125, then lose it again?

It’s clouding up out there. We’re now entering the official monsoon season.

Later…

Still no email. I’m not surprised and I am so done with the mail-order dolls. So, so done with them. Just as soon as I somehow manage to get the 3 I’m waiting on and fighting for, they can keep their discounts and free shipping coupons.

On the first, I changed the tattered flag to the iris flag.

About 45 minutes ago, I spotted movement just across Ralston behind a big tree. Three kids were huddled under a big tree, obviously trying to hide. Assuming they were up to no good, and assuming they might start a fire with a joint or a cigarette, I went out front with the hopes of my presence causing them to move on. After a second I came back in, and sure enough, the kids moved on, heading on down past Meadow Green. One was high school age or close to it and the other two were around 8. They had a medium-large white dog with them, too.

Later…

No email. I’d say that if he hasn’t emailed me by now, I was right about the doll not being there. The question is, did the PO give her away or are they just not letting me have her? Was she even shipped? Maybe we should’ve used UPS after all since it’s not like I get dolls every day, but because it’s a curse, it doesn’t matter who delivers them or who sells them. There’d still be problems and delays either way. Meanwhile, he can let me know if I got anything from Mary.

It just dawned on me that I forgot to write about Blackie’s grand escape a few days ago. The crazy shit got out the front door which I’d forgotten to latch. I spotted her under the TV stand that Ciara had been propped up on and knew it’d be useless to try to coax her into a tube, cuz as soon as I lifted it up, she’d be flying out of it. She’s no different than a wild rat, I swear! Finally, she ran across the room to the cage. After a few minutes, I coaxed her to climb up and into the top of the cage.

Blackie’s the biggest of the nutjobs. The Spotless Ratsy’s a little better, then Little Ratsy’s, with The Carpet Rat being the bravest, although none of them are tame. They’d never let me handle them. At least not willingly.

Later…

As soon as any music starts, I’ll open the kitchen window to see if I can gauge its location. I sure as shit won’t have any lights on so no one sees me. Not only so I can see out there better, but so that if it is the renters, they can’t see that they got my attention enough to cause me to look out back, cuz that’d just egg them on all the more.

If it is them, why now? Is it someone who just moved in with them or who’s visiting? Or did they just get a new stereo?

We also talked about getting me a new foam bed in January and turning the king-size bed I use into a twin that we put side by side in the master bedroom. Then the only thing will be dealing with the snoring, but at least I won’t be able to feel him. We won’t use the same sheets/comforter.

I have mixed emotions about doing this. I mean, do I really need to feel “normal?” I certainly don’t desire sex, so I don’t know. We’ll see. I may never be able to adapt to the fucking snoring he does anyway. No matter what we do, I still want a new bed cuz this one’s sagging at the side. Even the waterbed was nicer than this bed.

His lack of concern for what I may or may not want sexually is amazing. Then again, if there’s any one subject – no two subjects – he never cared what I felt about, it’s sex and my wanting a kid in the past. As I told him, I can’t promise I’ll never fool around on the side with a woman (though I highly doubt it), but doesn’t he care? He seems so indifferent to the idea of it that it surprises me. The idea of me getting it on with Teddy Bear back when I thought she was a person of her word didn’t seem to concern him one bit. Maybe that’s because he knows we’re each other’s number one, and most guys don’t mind the idea of two women if it doesn’t totally turn them on big time. But I just didn’t think Tom was ever like most guys when it came to sex in the first place. His near-zero appetite is usually a woman’s thing. Maybe it’s more common than I think, but I don’t see how because while I’ve heard of those who can’t rise and of those who squirt prematurely, he’s the first case I’ve heard of who gets hard but doesn’t cum. I still think it was about impregnating me, but I’ll never know for sure. Had we continued on with the sex, I may’ve found out one way or the other once I hit menopause, but if we’ve gone this long without screwing, we’ll almost certainly never screw again. I think that would be awkward for both of us. I think we’re used to the way things have been, and personally, I prefer it this way. The only sex that appeals to me in my mind right now would be getting it on with Teddy Bear, but since that’s never going to happen, I’d just assume stay celibate. I’ll probably keep going with the celibacy indefinitely which is all I can do for a few reasons: I can’t make myself desire him sexually, I can’t make him make himself desire me sexually, and I don’t expect to ever meet another woman I’m attracted to that’s attracted to me too, that I actually end up getting together with. Besides, if we did, it’d only be once or twice.

I’m just so thankful I haven’t been like I was 4 or 5 years ago – always wanting sex and desperately wanting a kid. That was one of the most miserably depressing experiences I ever had to endure. A definite, definite curse. No doubt about it. I just don’t see how something like that could’ve “just happened” without a reason. I just hope to hell it never happens again.

I ask myself, the screwy sex life you guys used to have bothered you, so why doesn’t it bother you that your husband doesn’t desire you sexually these days? I guess the answer’s because one, the feeling’s mutual, and two, I don’t think it’s a case of him not desiring me personally. I think he has no desires. Period.

Tuesday, July 9, 2002

We had a storm blow through, though it wasn’t too much of one. Some of the humidity seeped into the house. I can feel it till the AC kicks on. The storm has lowered the temperature, so that’ll save us a bit of money.

Tom just left for work. Good. I’m tired of his irritability. He gets all moody, defensive and impatient with me at times and it gets old.

He sure cracked me up earlier, though, when he got his fingers stuck in the bars of the rat’s cage for a minute. He’s lucky Little Buddy wasn’t Ratsy, Scuttles or Houdini. He’s even luckier he wasn’t the bear.

Woke up the same weight as yesterday – 121 pounds, so that was a bit discouraging and therefore I’m taking a break for today. I’m stuck too, and if I don’t go at some point, I’ll be up a pound or two come tomorrow.

When I asked Tom to guess my weight, he guessed 108. The man’s either just being nice or he’s completely blind, though all the muscle I’ve got from the regular workouts does weigh more than fat. I haven’t been 108 since jail, and if the freeloaders can keep from controlling what I eat, I probably never will be again till I’m an old, dying, sickly lady.

The Friday after next, after we see Scot, we’ll probably go to the Olive Garden one last time. We used half of the $40 credit, so we’ll use up the last half next time. I’ll probably get the eggplant and enjoy that to the tune of a screaming, whining kid. I swear kids weren’t this unruly before the late 80s to early 90s. There’s no such thing as discipline anymore and when there is it’s usually not in a good way. Why do people take babies to restaurants? I mean, you don’t take a baby to a restaurant. How rude!

Got a big doll poster from PG. Yeah, that’s all they’re good for. They’re pretty reliable when it comes to that and their catalogs. If the doll was mailed on the 20th, and I don’t know that it was since they keep changing their story, then the 10 business days would’ve been up last Friday and not Thursday. I forgot that Thursday was the 4th, but even so, it should’ve been here a week ago or even more. Especially coming from San Diego, but like I said – no more mail-order dolls! It’s too bad too, cuz I really like this company, but I’m sick of this shit. I really am.

Wednesday, July 10, 2002

Got up at 5:30 this afternoon. Sure enough, the indoor animals were ready for dinner, and the prairie dogs were just out front looking up at me as if to say, “It’s about time!”

I never did hear any music last night.

Being that it was coming up on 6:00 and starting to cool down, sure enough, I could see a couple of adults and a few kids out back. I really don’t like looking out back there to see 5 people milling about. I don’t know why it bugs me so much, but it does. I know I’d rather see people 500’ away than hear them 3’ away, but I’d really rather not have to see them either. Especially when it’s so often.

I caught and scared off a couple of dogs from tearing up the pipes that poor Tom worked so hard at covering with dirt. Fuck these fucking dogs! Oh, I can’t wait till we get fences!!! Doesn’t anybody in Arizona besides Mary allow their dogs indoors?

In better news, I was completely stunned out of my mind to learn late last night from Tom when he emailed me from work that the doll had arrived. He headed out before I got up and should have it in the car right now. He’ll be in around 2 AM.

I’m trying a new wallpaper changer at this wallpaper site that has the nicest wallpaper pictures I’ve ever seen. They’re all high-res. and they all fit nicely on my screen. They have a huge variety, too. Even skaters, dancers and gymnasts. The two catches are that you have to use their wallpaper changer program in order to use their pictures at all, and you can only download up to 5 a day unless you pay $20 for a year’s membership. I noticed Tom’s got this thing (Webshots) on his computer, too. I was surprised since he never cared about wallpaper.

I’m having some problems with it, though, so I don’t know if I’ll keep it. It keeps stopping on me and defaulting to the pictures I’m using for my screensaver, which are the skaters, dancers and gymnasts. I’m using flowers for wallpaper. Trying to, anyway.

Thursday, July 11, 2002

I finally got Carmencita, and for two fucking weeks the mother-fuckers at the PO had her sitting on a shelf. Again they claimed they attempted to deliver it on the 24th when she arrived. Why the fuck do they do this? I mean, they have to deliver it sooner or later, so why not sooner? Do they just get off on making people wait?

They haven’t yet done this with the back-ordered dolls so hopefully PG will ship the remaining two a day or two after they receive the new shipment, rather than 5, and the PO will let me have them as soon as they get them. What? Do they have so much extra shelf space that they can afford to simply stick boxes on shelves till they feel like giving them to the people two weeks later? Or even a month later like they did with the last doll?

Anyway, I’m glad she finally made it home. She looks much nicer in person. She’s 22” and dark-skinned. I polished her nails silver in contrast to her dark skin. I left off the headdress and the feathered cape. I didn’t like how they looked. I’ve got her holding her maracas, though. Instead of having the stand hold her by the waist where it’s more noticeable, I have her held by her upper thigh like one of my all-porcelain ballerinas, Patrice.

She’s got a fabric-covered stand and what appears to be a different, yet nicer outfit, than what’s in her picture. The picture’s outfit looks like it’s plain white material, but mine’s shiny and more of a pearly white. I like it much better, though I can’t get the bottoms to fit as in her picture. They’re awfully low and she’s a little thin-waisted, but still very nice. I like her a lot. I’m sure I’ll never want to sell or give her away.

Anyway, she has brown eyes and hair. Her curly hair hangs just past her ass and goes to her knees when pulled straight.

Her costume is accented with orange, purple and green beads as well as gold sequins.

Tom was tired as hell when he got in. There was a typical crisis at work. I guess the imaging machine went on the fritz. Tom wonders why they don’t give him more money after they brag about what a hero he is when he fixes things.

Doesn’t he know by now we’re destined to be used and ripped off?

I downloaded about 23 Webshots pictures from samplers, then my daily 5 that are allotted to me until and if I become a member. Their pictures are gorgeous - excellent clarity! They make things look good like lakes and woods, something I was never gung-ho on looks-wise, as opposed to tropical and desert scenes. Sunflowers – not my favorite flower – they make them look great! This is total kick-ass professional photography.

Later…

I added one of the Giselle dolls to Paula’s collection, but as I’ll tell her, she’s a fixer-upper more or less. She needs a stand, eyelashes, and either a new outfit or work done on the one she’s in (I had cut the lining out under the lace skirt). Meanwhile, the other Giselle sits naked and bald on my closet shelf.

Now I can get 10 Webshots pictures a day instead of 5. I log in as Tom after I’ve logged on as myself, and that’s how I double what I get. I have 38 pictures so far and I can live with getting 10 a day. It’ll give me something to look forward to and it’ll save us $20. That’s 70 pictures a week, minus any I may delete. Sometimes they don’t look as good as I thought they would once I display them on my desktop.

I decided that September 1st would be a good time to order Christmas Jewel, whom I’ll just call Jewel rather than Chris since I shorted Christmas Glow’s name to Chris. She’d be $24.98 with free shipping and $18.73 if they really did screw up by letting me have two more 25%-off coupons. The membership comes with two, but I may have 4. We’ll see. I doubt it, though. However much she costs, we’ll have a Maricopa PO box by then and hopefully they won’t throw her on a shelf for 2-4 weeks before giving her to me. I can’t blame PG for the PO’s fuck-ups. It’d be nice if half their dolls weren’t out of stock, but I can live with that.

I wish I were as black as Carmencita. Not just because it’s a great time to be black in today’s minority-loving society, but because it’d hide my zits, veins and other blemishes.

Saturday, July 13, 2002

Believe it or not, my doll came yesterday, but I didn’t get it, of course, cuz the PO was closed when he got the notice. I have to wait until Tuesday. So the non-back-ordered dolls are late and the back-ordered ones are early.

Tom’s computer’s been having problems. Well, of course. It’s not even two years old.

His birthday balloon’s still hanging on. Makes me think it’ll survive forever, though it is getting lower.

The community Webshots people sent me my weekly statistics on my online photo albums.

I forgot to watch the news on the 11th for any information regarding Hope’s trial. I couldn’t find anything pertaining to her when I looked online, so if there ever was a trial, I guess it wasn’t worth mentioning. Everyone must be the same color then. Therefore, it’s more important to cover the poor, poor abused blacks who are really the abusers themselves which nobody wants to believe, rather than the innocent baby whose ribs were broken by its sick mother. In today’s minority-loving society, news would travel faster concerning “cases” like mine than cases like Hope’s.

Now I can get 15 pictures a day. That’s because we set me up with a new email address. They’re such nice pictures that I printed out a few.

I still watch old reruns of Charlie’s Angels. I could never get sick of them. The show is so 70s, too. If they were creating the show today, at least one of the angels would be black or oriental. In fact, that was the case with the movie they made based on the series; one was Asian.

Monday, July 15, 2002

We’re going to be bombing in a few hours. I’m so fed up with these crazy rats that I’m considering cutting them down from 4 to 2. Naturally, Tom’s pressuring me to keep animals I don’t want, but what kind of pets is this? I can’t tame them, I can’t associate with them in any way except to hand them food. They won’t let me handle them. They just won’t.

I sent Tom’s birthday balloon off and it slowly sailed up and away. It was in view for quite a while. It moved slower than the last one and was easier to see cuz of its colors.

I tried calling Paula yesterday morning, but she said she had to call me back cuz something was going on there. What it was, she didn’t say, and as I figured, she never did call back.

Tuesday, July 16, 2002

I did cut out a couple of the crazies. So now I have 3 rats and 3 mice. Much easier to handle.

It’s pretty cloudy out there now. Cloudy enough to have the blinds open. It’s nice for a change when it’s cloudy. You get sick of the constant bright sunshine. It also lowers the temperature somewhat. Early in the morning is gorgeous at this time.

I saw a giant white dog and a giant black dog walk across the property in front. Fortunately, they stayed off of ours and out of our shit. Oh, I can’t wait for the fences! They won’t be up, though, till close to the end of the probation. Well, of course, right? Isn’t that what I said all along?

I also saw a black snake this morning. I guess they’re afraid of quails. The quails chased it back down into a hole. Then it popped its head up and looked around for a while after the quails split, then it pulled itself up and out of the hole and down into another a few feet away. I hope it hasn’t eaten too many of my prairie dogs! When it emerged again a few minutes later it slithered off into the brush. The prairie dogs must sense danger close by cuz I haven’t seen them yet.

Nothing ate the jellybeans I threw out yesterday morning. After we set the bombs off we went to Circle K for some junk and I got some jellybeans. Not liking citrus flavors, I threw out the orange, green and yellow ones.

The best news of the day is that I received Murganah and a letter from Mary.

Murganah is absolutely gorgeous! Just beautiful and she’s definitely the best PG doll yet. Strangely enough, though, she has painted nipples that show through her sheer blouse. I love her colorful, shiny outfit and her gold glitter eyeshadow. I didn’t know she had this eyeshadow. I couldn’t see it in her picture, but when I took pictures, I shot facial close-ups, so it’d be visible. Then I uploaded them to my online album. Of course, I’ll be enclosing pictures for Mary, too.

The total viewings on my albums are now up to 103 with 1 download on a land pic.

In Mary’s letter, she praised me and thanked me for being there for her, then she told me she’d been depressed. They really put their foot down about letting people out to make evening phone calls and she’s bummed out about it cuz she can’t talk to Todd, who works in the daytime. Maybe she’ll be able to find a DO willing to let her out sometime in the evening so she can call him. In the meantime, at least they can still write to each other.

Another favor - she asked me to look up some site on coping with depression and stress and to print out what I could find, but I couldn’t get to the address she gave me. She either gave me the wrong address or they don’t exist anymore.

She said Hope may get 40 years. What is that really – 12 years? I’m confused, though. I thought the 11th was her sentencing. And why is she going to trial – because she refused to plea bargain? Why is her case taking so long? She’s been there over a year and they’re just now selecting her jury? I don’t get it. Whatever happens, I hope she gets what she deserves and is never allowed custody of any kids.

I doubt it, though. I’m sure she’ll get some kind of a break. Good things happen to bad people all the time.

In response to my comment about the humidity with the onset of the monsoons, she said she was glad to be inside with air conditioning. She said she had a heat stroke last November when they shut the AC off. Yeah, I know all about heatstroke. That’s why I can’t believe that they can make people live in tents in a desert. Arizona and its sick laws never cease to amaze me!

She didn’t say anything about when she was leaving. Just that she wouldn’t mind staying there, even if prison is supposed to be easier. Yeah, I wish she’d stay there, too. I wish Pérez would return so she could find out for sure if she got my letter, and of course, I wish Teddy Bear would return. If Pérez tells her she didn’t get the letter, then I’ll either think it wasn’t mailed or she didn’t get it, which could mean Teddy Bear didn’t get hers either.

I didn’t know this, but some inmates wear what’s called a Taser belt under their clothes so that the guards can zap them if they go crazy. Hope and Monster will have to wear these.

I hear so many people on TV bragging about how wonderful this country is, but is it? I mean, look at us – we won’t allow a woman to be president, but we’ll pay the freeloaders to sit on their asses all their lives. We allow people to marry people of different races, but not of the same gender.

So just how great are we really?

Naturally, this is just talk at this point, but Tom’s thinking about getting an old truck next January with the stock money. He said that instead of fixing the AC on this car, he’ll either keep it as a backup or sell it. Meanwhile, he’ll get a cheap, 20-year-old truck to fix up.

It’d be nice if we could have a truck for hauling in the fencing, among other things, of course.

With Paula not being so bright, I was able to quiz her yesterday on the phone about dolls and was told what I figured she’d tell me – that she’d collect more dolls if she had the money. Space-wise, her place is small, but she is looking for a bigger place.

I just hope she can stay out of jail! Yeah, her life’s pretty much the same old, same old that’s getting worse. She just can’t stop hanging with the wrong guys. After she laughs about the fun she and this guy have in the woods, she goes on to list all kinds of horrible things about him. Things that are obviously stressing her out big time. When I tell her she should dump him, she goes, “I know,” then she says she’s gonna kiss his ass to get him to drop the charges he filed against her. Then maybe they can have a relationship.

She is one mixed-up woman!

The guy shoves her into a wall one minute in front of Justin, then tells him the next that he’d never hurt her. Meanwhile, the guy’s supposedly charging her with stalking and threatening to do bodily harm. She said she thought she had one 90-day suspended sentence, but her PO informed her she had two. The PO also told her to go to court and try to get the charges dropped or else she’ll violate her.

They also wouldn’t waive her $270 fine and she says Justin rang up a huge phone bill too, but they credited some of it.

The lady cop she slugged has been harassing her, she says.

On top of all this, she’s driving with a suspended license. It makes me wonder – does she just not care or does she want to go to jail? Even she herself said she wasn’t going to make it.

Not at the rate she’s going.

I asked about the email and I guess Justin deleted it without even bothering to show it to her.

Wednesday, July 17, 2002

Damn these mother-fucking dogs! I’m sick of our land being a playground for Maricopa’s dogs! And Tom’s only giving them more to play with by trying to bury those pipes. I told him he was just going to have to redo them over and over again. Dogs dig. They’ll just keep digging them up no matter how much dirt he throws on them. He’s better off throwing them under the house till the place is fenced in.

Our latest leak curse is right by my shower. I stood inside the shower stall with water streaming onto the doors and Tom said he didn’t see it leaking. I think it’s coming from underneath and that somehow a connection between the pipes, which are in sections, pulled loose. When the water pools in that area, it seeps through the wood and up into the carpet.

In other news, I didn’t receive a reply when I sent Paula an email, not that I expected one.

I have a dentist’s appointment at 11:00.

Friday, July 19, 2002

Just got back from Scot a few minutes ago. Still no mention of classes.

Good, cuz I’m taking classes for me. Not for the state.

This time, instead of asking how many years I had left, he said I had a little over 15 months, then I’d be done.

“Well, I hope so,” I said. “That’s what I was told nearly 3 years ago, so I don’t believe anything till I see it.”

Tom said it’d be best if I kept my doubts to myself so he doesn’t feel challenged and like I’m putting down his profession. Yeah, he doesn’t need to remind me about Arizona’s little sensitives. It’s just that I don’t see how Tom can be so gullible as to believe it’ll be over 10/30/2003 just cuz they say it will be. Have they ever told us the truth yet? So why should he believe them now?

Anyway, if they prolong it, I’m sure it’ll be my fault just like most everything else seems to be and that I won’t fight back. I’ll just sit back, take whatever shit they dish out to me, and God can go on protecting those involved. I know most people would tell me I’d be crazy not to fight any extensions they may try to throw at me, or else this shit will never end, but you know what? The judge said this is over on October 30th of ’03, so October 30th of ’03 it is which means there won’t be anything to fight. If the courts can’t keep their word, then I’ll just have to keep it for them. Maybe I’ll casually mention moving out of state to Scot the last time I see him. That way word may get back to anyone who might be thinking of taking advantage of me, and the prospect of my being not so accessible might deter them.

I nearly stepped on a snake on our way there. As soon as I stepped out the side door, I saw a black and white striped king snake (at least I think it was a king snake) that must’ve been getting a drink by the AC that’s by the door. As soon as it saw me coming down the stairs, it ran under the stairs, then under the skirting of the house. The movement startled me until I realized it was a harmless snake.

It was a cool-looking snake. I hope to see it again long enough to get a picture of it.

Yesterday afternoon and early Wednesday morning, a big black snake was out front. Both times it ended up in the brush surrounding one of the big trees by the wash.

I’ve been putting a fresh bowl of water out in the wash every day. The prairie dogs and rabbits love it.

I never did get to see the dentist on Wednesday. Her daughter had appendicitis. I was pissed too, to have come that far in the heat and humidity. It was cloudy throughout most of the trip and even rained some, but still, we went all that way for nothing. It wasn’t till after we’d left that she tried to get a hold of us.

While I was there I got a free sample of tooth-whitening gum. I’m sure it doesn’t really whiten teeth, but it’s got a nice refreshing taste anyway, so I had Tom pick some up at the grocery store. I’ll be seeing the dentist on Monday, I hope. We made the appointment early to beat some of the heat.

Paula, or probably Justin, sent an email saying they couldn’t get into my online photo albums, so I asked if they wanted me to send pictures on a CD. Then I discovered a way to send them links to take them directly to each album. I’m still waiting for a reply as to what they want me to do.

Meanwhile, I’ve been updating my doll albums which has been taking forever! That’s cuz of the higher resolution I’m now using. I’m also going to add a 10th album called Assorted Pets which will consist of pictures like the pigeons, Bunny, guinea pigs, etc.

Later…

I emailed PG asking when the last doll I’m expecting was shipped. Hopefully, they’ll let me know soon enough, and they’ll give me the correct date, too.

It’s back to being like June weather-wise. It’s hot and clear, but not so dry that my hair’s full of static. I’m gonna get a small humidifier sometime in October so I don’t have to deal with that again when it gets really dry.

All my uploading is done. I have 10 albums and 245 pictures in total. Someone downloaded 6 doll pictures yesterday. I know they had to be either pictures of Joy or Barbies, cuz that’s a very small album and those are the only pictures in it till the Fairy of Cork and others join it.

I threw in a couple of other dolls for Paula. She’ll be getting a total of 15. Wish I could be there to see the look on her face! I just hope she has room. I’m sure that somehow she’ll make the room, even if it means buying and putting up some cheap shelves. She’ll be getting Anne, Edie, Chris, Christina, Giselle, Misha, Ashley, Nakita, Selena, Melanie, Stephanie, Shauna, Gloria, Katie and Mary.

I made a second doll picture file. One’s for the dolls I have (porcelain), and the other’s for the dolls I’m giving her, plus the two I took apart, and my vinyl dolls, except for Tyler.

I currently have 28 porcelain dolls, plus Tyler displayed. They are Patrice, Colette, Ciara, Autumn, Pine Leaf, Sacajawea, Jade, Joy, Bailey, Summer Dream, Asha, Nyla, Murganah, Carmencita, Angel, Falling Star, Praying Spirit, Valentine, Emerald, Mei Lin, Meagan, Victoria, Tiffany, Maria, Rapunzel, Twinkle, Sugar Plum and Lollipops.

I’ve written just under 230 pages since my release.

Saturday, July 20, 2002

I never heard back from PG. Makes me think they haven’t shipped the doll yet. I just sent another message to let them know I didn’t hear back from them yesterday and would like an answer today.

I also left Paula a message last night, never hearing from her via phone or email. I hope she’s not in jail. Of all the times I ship something to her, it’d really suck if she went to jail now for 3-6 months.

I just upped and called Paula. She answered, saying she’d call me back. She sounded rather depressed.

Just got a message saying they left a message saying they shipped the doll on the 12th. If this is true, she should be here between the 23rd - 26th.

Sunday, July 21, 2002

I don’t know what the hell’s going on with Paula. She never called me back and there’s been no answer at her place. I just hope to hell she isn’t in jail so she can get the dolls! Of all the times I send her something other than a letter, it’d sure suck if she wasn’t home. I hope someone else could claim the packages and make sure she gets them when she gets home if this ends up being the case. I wouldn’t know if they emailed me since last night, cuz our modem is fucked up.

God, I wish our stuff would stop breaking and leaking!!! Just 3 months. 3 months without anything breaking or leaking! Why is that so fucking much to ask for??? A lousy 3 months!

Anyway, I’m having fun editing MP3s, but it’s a time-consuming job. I sit there fine-tuning old journals while the files save and compress themselves. I’m on the 1994 journal now.

Tuesday, July 23, 2002

Got lots to update on. For starters, I got the Fairy of Cork. She’s cute and her fiber optics display is much nicer than Chris’s. It’s more colorful, displaying more of my favorite colors. Chris only displayed green and red with a touch of blue. I’m sure Paula will love her, though. I doubt she’s ever had anything like the dolls I’m sending her and I doubt she ever will, either. I think this will be a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for her.

Anyway, this fairy’s not attached to her wings which is what the fiber optics are attached to. She’s supposed to sit on a seat up against the wings that are attached to the back of the seat, but I thought she blocked too much of the wings. Therefore, I stuck a Kelsey doll on it. Kelsey dolls are slightly smaller than Barbies. This doll looks better on it. Meanwhile, I put the fairy on a shelf in my office. The only thing is that she’s battery-operated also. I thought she was a plug-in.

Other than that she’s 14” with red hair and green eyes with purple glitter eyeshadow.

I got two letters from Mary. The letters themselves were brief. The bulk of what she sent was book parts. I’ve got about 32 pages to type up.

So Hope’s trial is done from what she told me. The day after she sent the letter was the day the verdict was to be in, but I don’t know what it is or how she went from looking at 40 years to life, but this is what Mary told me. I know this is Arizona and that Arizona will practically hang a person just for breathing wrong, but she must’ve done more than break her baby’s ribs, as bad as I know that alone is. Maybe Mary can fill me in more cuz I just looked again and couldn’t find squat online.

Are those of us who supposedly sent threatening letters that much more entertaining than the child abusers?! If Hope’s kid were black, that’d be different. Then they’d plaster her story all over the place, calling her a racist.

The for-sale sign’s gone. I don’t know if it’s cuz someone knocked it down or if that property is sold. All I can do is what I always do when it comes to any new neighbors – hope they’re white and not trouble-makers. Especially not trouble-makers, but as I learned, all I can do is take whatever shit people dish out to me. The only one that suffers when someone fucks me over is me and the only one that suffers when I try to fuck someone else over is also me, so I won’t even bother to think about any kind of complaints or retaliation. It’ll either be useless or get me thrown in jail.

It looks like the shower leak’s fixed that he caulked, so that’s good. Also, he epoxied Ciara’s stand, my big 38” doll.

I switched back to my old wallpaper changer cuz Webshots was getting to be a pain, always wanting me to compress files and not saving pictures from other sites into my wallpaper directory. It’d save them to the directory, I’d just have to create a whole new file in order to add them in. With this one, I don’t have to do that. I still have Webshots on my computer, though, so I can still get pictures from them, then export them to my directory/changer.

I finally called and spoke to Justin and Paula after Paula said she’d call me back and never did. Without telling her what I was sending, I told her to stay out of jail so she could get the 2 or 3 packages I plan on shipping. Also, I hope she’ll at least be kind enough to call and let me know when she gets them. Hopefully, her PO won’t shelve them for a month before letting her know they’re there. I wonder how it is that they know when a package contains something that’s back-ordered. Unless it’s just part of the doll curse that’s on me, and hopefully not on her too, the PO has some way of knowing which dolls were back-ordered. Those are the ones I get as soon as they arrive.

Tom didn’t even have to wait in line for the fairy. This time they put her in the box they left him a key to.

Anyway, I spoke to Justin as well, answering a few computer questions for him. I told him I’d hang up with him and go send him direct links to all my albums and to let me know if it worked, and it did. I figured it would, cuz it worked for Mary. I’m still going to enclose a picture CD in one of the doll boxes for them.

He tried to get me to tell him what I was sending his mom, promising not to tell, but I knew he would. I gave him hints, though. I said there were 15 of them and that they consisted of a good variety. Also, like I told Paula, she needs to start making as much room in her place as she can.

Naturally, in spite of how dumb his poor mom is, Justin’s obviously not very bright himself. His writing was the equivalent of a 5-year-old’s, rather than an 11-year-old’s. Even an 11-year-old should know that ‘didn’t’ isn’t spelled ‘dint’. They must suspect I’m sending dolls, though, cuz I find it really hard to believe they could be that stupid.

All Paula had to say was the usual – how much stress this guy brings her whom she has so much fun in the woods and who dropped the charges he filed on her. I asked her, but what if he files charges again and doesn’t drop them?

“Then I’ll do 90 days in jail,” she said, “but God help him when I get out.”

I just don’t understand why she’d want to hang out with someone who could land her in jail, let alone put all the stress on her that he does. I don’t know, maybe she likes it in a sick, twisted sort of way. My own sister gets off on abuse from men.

Anyway, I told Justin that Tom would load up IM software so we can do instant messages.

I sent album links to chickenmax to see if they’d pick up their mail from me since I knew it would automatically notify me as soon as it was. They never picked it up and now I’m not sure what to think. Is it them shutting me out, or is it someone else altogether? Neither one makes sense at this point. If it was them, why ignore my mail when they could either block me out or change their address? If it’s not them, wouldn’t they either read the mail out of curiosity or let me know, hey, we don’t know each other?

Well, either way, I won’t be sending anything else.

I saw a roadrunner eat a baby prairie dog yesterday. I didn’t know they were carnivorous, but some birds are, so why not?

No cheeks today. I wish he’d show up on a day when Tom and the car were gone, so I could have the pleasure of saying “no” to anything freeloader-related, though I will say “no” the next time he wakes me up.

I thought we were going to get stormed on yesterday evening, but all we got was some wind, one little rumble of thunder, and a tiny bit of rain.

I know it’s a waste of time worrying about us getting old and dying while we’re still in our 30s and 40s, but I fear the end and that we’ll be alone and helpless. How will I take care of him if he gets really sick or senile when he gets old? How will I see him if he’s in a nursing home? What if he dies first and I’m forced to kill myself, knowing I couldn’t go on without him, and wouldn’t want to, even if I had all the money and transportation in the world? What if someone killed my husband, like some pig on a macho car chase that I couldn’t get to in order to kill them before I killed myself?

What if, what if, what if! Wish I could quit the what-ifs! But that’s easier said than done when it comes to Tom, my one and only true blessing in life. It’s not that I don’t have any other blessings, but most of those are material.

Ironically, ever since I quit wanting a kid, babies don’t always seem to be everywhere I go, though I don’t think it’s a coincidence. Back when I wanted one, it was in everyone’s conversation, on every billboard I’d pass by – everywhere. It was as if something up there wanted to torture me all the more, though it is still on TV like crazy. Yeah, I saw part of a documentary where a teenage gang-banger was expecting. She’s totally the kind that makes my blood boil.

Yesterday’s trip to the dentist went well. No cavities. They did X-rays like they say they do periodically. They did it right there in the chair, too. At the other place, you had to go into this little x-ray booth.

She asked me if I was still drawing, then I remembered the pictures I sent her. I told her I got sick of that and had hopes of becoming a dollmaker. She said that sounded cool and that maybe I could show her pictures. I asked for her email address and sent her the links to my albums so she could see what I have already, besides the critters and the land which we also discussed.

She complimented me as usual, telling me she likes my hair color.

Got a good-sized sample of toothpaste and another whitening kit. The stuff really works. I think this will be the last time I’ll need to do this for quite a while.

On our way out of the waiting room, the doctor asked if we knew the man waiting for the next appointment, a guy who was also from Maricopa. He told us where he lived and we both knew the streets he mentioned. He has a conservatory business at his place. Tom got his web address. We might go check it out sometime, as well as this place in town just 10 minutes from us that has porcelain doll signs. I don’t know if they sell them or just make them or both.

Later…

Another pretty rainbow off in the distance. It’s clouding up out there, but I don’t know if we’ll get a storm or how much of one we’ll get if we do.

We went the way we usually don’t go on our way back home yesterday and saw that they were paving more of the main road. Just two years ago we were 7 miles from any paved roads. Soon we’ll be just about one mile away!

Anyway, after leaving the dentist’s, we went to Fry’s Electronics. He got a new computer case and a new modem, in case the one we were using was no good. It was okay, though, so we’ll keep it as a backup. After an hour’s worth of work, Tom got us back online. At least we were only unable to go online for a day and not weeks.

I also got some white paper as well as decorative paper with a big tulip. At home, I sent in for the $3 rebate on the white paper.

Our last stop was Denny’s. Not only was the food great (my T-bone was cooked to perfection and cut very easily), but the people were civilized for a change. It was just our luck that no screamers were near us. The oldest kid around us was around 10.

Wednesday, July 24, 2002

Time is making it easier to deal with not seeing Teddy Bear, though I’ll always think about her and wonder about what happened. I still don’t see how something I wrote could get her in trouble. I’m the one who has to pay for other people’s actions, remember? I’m still pretty sure she changed her mind. If she’d either lost my number or didn’t get my letter, that’d be one thing, but to have lost the number and not gotten my letter? I don’t think so.

As much as I would’ve loved for her to keep her word and come see me, I realize that seeing her could’ve been a bad thing. With my being attracted to her and my having feelings for her, I could’ve been torn between her and Tom, not that I’d have left Tom. I still believe he’s the only one who could ever accept me as I am and deal with our living arrangements as he has. That’s where I’m glad he’s not your typical red-blooded man, or else the not sleeping together wouldn’t fly with him so well.

Anyway, I guess I’m meant to be both faithful and celibate, but that’s okay. I can live with it for I have Teddy Bear in my fantasies and she’ll always be in my memory.

With the way I’m so fed up with society as a whole, I think to myself, just as soon as some bitch or some cock pisses me off bad enough or threatens to kick my ass in a place where I have no visits from Tom or commissary to lose, you’re going to lose it like never before. After so many years of being held back for various reasons, you’re going to explode on them so badly. They’re gonna think they can flatten you cuz you’re short, and you’re going to show them that no they can not just step right on you and snap you in half as if you were merely a twig.

Then I tell myself, no you won’t. You’ll sit there and you’ll take it and you won’t fight back. You’ll make up some excuse as to why you didn’t fight back, you’ll send them the wrong message, they’ll take advantage of you, they’ll get away with fucking you over, and God will see to it that you suffer just because you thought of fighting back while he protects and worships the ground your perpetrators walk on. And no, you wouldn’t have nothing to lose if you did fight back. You’d get in hot water somehow cuz you know you can’t get away with shit. You’re punished with other people’s evil deeds as well as for things you didn’t even do, so you sure as hell would be made to pay for things you did do, even if the person deserved what they got from you.

Words cannot express how frustrated and angry I am at God for protecting anyone who ever did me wrong. People have beaten me, stolen from me, lied to me and so much more, yet they never ever had to pay the consequences for it. I’m not saying they should all be thrown in jail, I’m just saying that it’s rather sad to know that while people are walking away from murder, I’m paying for stupid, piddly-assed shit. I pay for other people’s hatred, vindictiveness, stupidity, misunderstanding, incompetence and greed, but who pays for wronging me?

I look out my office window. I see a tiny portion of the house two lots away and I wonder? Am I one day going to fall victim to its occupants for 7 years while I’m completely powerless to do a damn thing about it? And all because they might think I look too Jewish or because they have connections in law enforcement?

As I learned the hard way time and time again – I don’t have to go looking for trouble. Trouble does a fine enough job of finding me on its own.

There are about 250 million people in the US. I figure about 80 million of them are black. Wouldn’t it be oh so awesome if one by one, they could all drop dead?! I’d settle for just a few million. And they could up and die suddenly too, for no apparent reason, leaving the surviving blacks baffled and fearing they’ll be next.

I thought about typing myself a threatening letter supposedly from them, but it wouldn’t do me any good. First of all, it could be determined that the printer that printed the thing lives in this house. Also, unless it was the last piece from the package, it could be determined that the paper came from this house. Even if they couldn’t prove it was my paper and my printer that printed it, all they’d do is say, “Well, we couldn’t find any fingerprints, they say they didn’t do it, so there’s nothing we can do.”

Of course, I know they wouldn’t do anything even if they did have physical evidence. Between God and the Jew-hating law enforcement officials that can’t believe non-whites would fuck over a white person and don’t want to, there’s simply no revenge and no justice in this case. They won. They won in Phoenix and they won in Maricopa.

Anyway, Tom tried to set up IM software so Justin and I could do instant messages, but it wouldn’t work. Also, I don’t think I dig the idea of swapping messages with an 11-year-old kid. I have enough mixed emotions about Paula as it is. I mean, I do care about her or else I wouldn’t write her or send her dolls, and I know she can’t help being the way she is, but I get sick of the flakiness. When I think about it, though, she’s never done me any harm, so associating with her can’t hurt. Besides, she’s all the way on the other side of the country. It’s not like we’re neighbors. It’s the little things that bug me. An example of that is how I asked her to let me know when she gets the packages, though they won’t be mailed for another week or two, and she said she would. I know better, though. I won’t hear about them either way till one of us catches the other by phone, though maybe Justin will mention it. It’s no biggie, though. I mean, I’d rather have to wait to find out if she got the dolls and what she thought of them than to have Jew-hating blacks and Hispanics playing their music for us, trashing our yard, then ultimately getting me tossed in jail to be led on by someone I end up crushing on.

I was so, so crushed out on her! We just didn’t have enough time together in the end there. Our time together, in the end, went too fast. How I wish we’d established our little thing for each other sooner than we did! I’m sure we both liked each other pretty much from the get-go; I just wish we’d known it.

Back to the dolls - it’s a damn good thing they don’t have a conscious, the poor dolls. It may sound mean to say this, but those dolls would be so miserable if they did. Instead of being in a nice, spacious modern house, they’re going to be in a cold, damp, small, old and ugly place, having to hear Paula, Justin and God knows how many other people, screaming and yelling about this and that.

Later…

Justin said he saw the pictures, but Paula didn’t. I’m not surprised. Paula’s always so wrapped up in her own little world. One kind of has to feel sorry for her, though. Her life’s been the same as long as I can remember and it doesn’t look like it’s ever going to change.

I’m hearing more thunder this evening, but seeing fewer clouds. Tom said they said it could storm tonight, but I don’t know yet if it will.

During the daytime, I hear this squeaking sound that I figured was some bird doing a weird chirp, but I learned today that it’s the prairie dogs making the noise. I noticed I was hearing a lot more of it these last 2 or 3 months. It’s always the same pitch that lasts for a second. It was really weird, though, cuz I saw a prairie dog do it while it ate lettuce in front. It’d munch away, then open its mouth to emit a squeak, then eat some more, let out another squeak, and so on and so forth.

Thursday, July 25, 2002

We were having problems with the instant messaging thing. Besides, I decided I just didn’t want anyone bugging me while I was online. Especially some mixed-up kid.

I finished the clip Mary sent me. This clip was when she ran from Justin in Florida with Gretchen to New York where she and her homeless brother were stuck in a hotel with less than $100 to their names.

Talk about hard times and curses! My heart totally goes out to her and Gretchen both for all their pain and suffering. It serves as a reminder, particularly in Gretchen’s case, that we can’t always count on God to help us and that sometimes God does give us more than we can handle. Again I have to ask myself – how much of God is for real versus wishful thinking? Sure, we’d all like to believe that there’s some loving, guiding salvaging force out there, designed to protect us, but when we consider how much more bad than good there really is in this world, I don’t see how that can be possible. Not for the most part, anyway. It just seems that any good, loving God wouldn’t allow innocent babies to be killed. I know there are those who would respond to that statement by saying that he has his reasons, but I’m sorry. I just don’t see what kind of reasons could possibly justify the slaying of an innocent child. Nothing about what happened makes “sense.”

If only Mary cut ties between them sooner than she did. I cut the ties between Doe, Art, Larry and Tammy and never again can they or will belittle me or try to control me. I pulled back and looked at them as people, not parents and siblings, and when I didn’t like what I saw, I put biology aside and walked away.

I wish more people could do the same when the situation calls for it.

It burns me up to think of how many times Doe and Art smacked me around only to get away with it, while I lose time, money and freedom to bullshit words.

So when the thought of my curses and life’s unfairness gets me down, I think of Mary sitting in a jail cell, feeling like a complete failure for not saving her daughter. For not having the courage to say “no” to abuse, be it physical, sexual, verbal or mental, until it was too late.

Friday, July 26, 2002

Damn Mary and her not putting enough postage on envelopes! I told Tom not to bother making the time to pick this latest one up and to let it get returned to her. Speaking of messages, I’ve obviously sent one saying: I’ll bitch about it, but Tom will make the extra time to pick it up in the end anyway.

Not anymore. She should know by now what’s too much to be stuffing in one envelope, so anything with postage due is going right back to her till she gets the message and gets her postage straight.

Tom stopped at a hardware store after work and got a round wooden base for Joy. This will make me feel a lot better as her metal stand alone isn’t very stable. For the bigger, heavier dolls, you really need a heavy wooden base, versus paper-thin metal.

He also got a couple of ceiling fans, so the den and living room will finally have them.

Sunday, July 28, 2002

Here I am just trying to get over Teddy Bear, then I see someone on TV that reminds me of her, be it her physique, her mannerisms, her voice, and it brings back some of the hurt, the longing for her, the missing her, the never getting to know her, etc.

And something didn’t want to punish me when it sicced these freeloaders on me? Right!

I wonder just how many others she may’ve led on like this. People who do this don’t usually leave people hanging just once. It tends to become rather habit-forming (Kacey and Al were prime examples). Am I the only inmate, though? I couldn’t have been the only one to be crushing on her. Just how many others have joined the R. D. Johnson fan club?

Questions, questions and never any answers!

I may love a babe in uniform, but I hate pigs and that’s exactly what she turned out to be in the end – just another pig with a badge, despite how cool she was in jail. I wonder if I’d have been as attracted to her if she hadn’t been in uniform?

Maybe I was wrong in assuming this summer’s monsoons would be fierce. Almost every evening it looks like we’re gonna get slammed, but it never happens. All we get is a little wind, a few rumbles of thunder and shit for rain. If it were going to be a fierce summer, it would’ve been by now. Guess this is why they call this the desert!

Although the storms are cool, the lack of them has its good points, too. No losing power, no potential wake-up calls. I got the freeloaders as potential wake-up calls just as I did in Phoenix and that’s enough.

I had a great idea for the base of Joy’s stand. I decided that after he cuts it smaller dimension-wise and square in shape rather than round, I’ll take the same material used to make her dress and cover the base with it. I also have spare scraps of carpet that I could use for future bases as well. That’d look cool.

I saw a documentary on a penitentiary in Louisiana that opened after the Civil War. This was right after slavery ended and this is what the freeloaders used as an excuse to become the mean, hateful criminally inclined assholes they still are today. We’re to blame too, though. All we were doing was breeding criminals by making them slaves, and simply turning them loose in the end was where we fucked ourselves over. They should’ve either remained as slaves or been deported back to Africa where they belong.

Later…

I looked at Jade and decided – why wait for future bases when I can carpet yours? So I took her off the base, traced the circular base on the back of a piece of carpet where the netting is, cut it, cut a hole in its center to go through the pole her waistband’s attached to, then slipped it on and down onto the base. Then, to keep the ends from lifting upward, I secured them down with glue. Now I’m washing a bigger piece of carpet that many a rat has peed on. When it’s washed I’m going to cut a thin strip of it to glue around the sides of the base. Then she’ll look more or less like she’s standing on a mound of blue carpet.

Monday, July 29, 2002

I was pleasantly surprised to get an email from Paula herself. First she called, but I was asleep. In the email, she answered my questions as to what colors she likes/dislikes (I was curious) and the answers couldn’t have been better. She said she likes red, purple, white and green and hates orange and black. Well, as it turns out, I have a doll for her in purple, a doll in red, 3 dolls in white and 3 in green. None in orange or black. I decided to take the gold dress I had on Anne and put it on the new Irish fairy I just got that came in a green outfit.

So, as it will turn out, she’ll get 1 doll in purple, 1 in red, 3 in white, 3 in green, 3 in blue, 1 in gray, 1 in rust, 1 in white with blue and another in white with sea green. There will be 1 redhead, 2 with black hair, 5 blondes and 7 brunettes. There’ll be 4 with blue eyes, 4 with green eyes, 5 with brown eyes, and 2 with gray eyes.

He cut the wood of Joy’s base, making it square at 9” in diameter, rather than a 12” circle. Then I cut a slit in the fabric to go through the stand’s pole. Then we tacked the material underneath.

No, the shower leak is not fixed after all. It looks like my worst fear is right and that it’s leaking from inside the wall, down out on the carpet in the front right corner of the shower stall itself, but you know what? As I said to Tom, we are not going to succumb to fixing every single goddamn leak in this house! Nor are we going to be reduced to fixing every single fucking thing that breaks. Especially when they shouldn’t be breaking so soon! If we spend our lives fixing everything that breaks, we won’t have a life. I’m at the point now where I’m so beyond fed up with our shit breaking that one tends to reach a point where they simply stop fixing things. I’ll shower in his shower from now on till that breaks too, many years sooner than it should.

I don’t know, maybe if whatever’s put the breakage curse on us sees that we won’t bother to up and run to fix things as soon as they break like broken car ACs and leaky showers, it’ll give us a break for a while. Yeah, for about a month.

Later…

I don’t believe this. I simply do not believe this! What broke today? Now the sprayer on the bug spray container burst!

“But the thing was old and they’re cheap and I can pick one up when I go out today to see my mom and do other errands.”

But I don’t care if the damn thing was old and cheap. He can play this down just like he does everything else, but I just want a week in our lives without breakage!!!

And a month without the freeloaders. That one’s impossible, though, of course, for quite a while, if ever. I know Scot is coming this week or next and I don’t want to be woken up. He hasn’t woken me up since February, so it just seems like it’s about time to lose sleep over these freeloaders yet again.

Always with me, always with them. Oh, how I want to believe 15 months is all I have left of this shit, but I can’t. I just can’t. First they told me it was over, then a handful of months later I was promised a year of probation and that I wouldn’t be jailed even if I were convicted, so why should I believe it’ll finally, truly be over in 15 months? There’s nothing to say that it will be. If I can go a whole year without the freeloaders controlling anything I do, anyplace I go, anything we spend our money on, then I’ll believe I’m finally free and clear of them. Until then, I’m still very much their victim, like it or not. They’re just victimizing me in different ways than they did during the first few years.

The sucky thing about his working nights is that his car’s here all day, but hey, I’ll decide when I let who into my house, so if Scot does stop by while I’m asleep – tough. I just wasn’t in the mood for company, I’ll tell him, and he’ll just have to live with that. If he’s not going to call first, then he’s going to have to deal with the fact that I just may not want company every now and then, though I’ve always let him in so far. That’s only because he either caught me when I was up, or it was before I put my foot down and made a no-playing-form-if-I’m-asleep rule.

I still want him to come around just once when I’m out, but I know God will never see to that. Even more so, I want him to come around when Tom’s not here and when I’m awake just so I can say “no” to the freeloaders. Never yet have I been able to say “no” to anything freeloader-related. I’d like to have that privilege if only once, but again, I doubt it’s an honor God would be willing to grant me. Protect thy freeloaders, you know? That’s God’s motto. Actually, it’s more like “Protect Jodi’s tormentors!” That’s his real motto.

And I thought those stormin’ Mormons were oh so bad compared to the blacks and Mexican welfare bums?!

Later…

Well, the freeloaders didn’t cause me to lose sleep today, but see? It’s just like we were all living together again; when they’re not actually waking me up, I’m fearing that they will.

Always with me, always with them.

PG’s selling a 40” sitting doll for just $80.

Tuesday, July 30, 2002

Paula is going to be one lucky bitch! Tom got a few boxes that are 18x18x18 and some bubble sheeting and I managed to squeeze all 15 dolls into one box. Then I added a few things like that Hairdini that drove me crazy trying to figure out, the messy comb-in pink streaks I didn’t like, a couple of rings, a bracelet, a necklace, a parrot watch I never wear, some dental floss, emery boards, glitter perfume, barrettes and a few other odds and ends. Of course I threw in the picture CD and a letter, too.

Rabbits and prairie dogs are hanging out front regularly now. I saw a prairie dog lay down for the first time ever. It lay up against the water bowl.

Got 4 envelopes from Mary today. Each had a brief 1-page letter. Most of it was book stuff. I got about 50 pages to type up. Fortunately, she numbered the envelopes so I’ll know what order to type stuff in. She worries she’s overwhelming me, but it’s not like I’m working full-time yet with dolls, so I have the extra time.

I will say this, though, and that’s that I’m glad I’m not the one who’s going to have to organize this book in the end! I’m just typing what she gives me, then some editor or publisher can take it from there.

She asked that I change words and sentence structuring when I feel it’s necessary. I told her I’d use my best judgment. I may change her directions for starters. She has Idiot’s dad referring to New York as “out there” from Florida. Well, typically Florida is “down there,” New York’s “up there,” and the West Coast is “out there.”

She asked for rainbow and storm pictures, so I printed out a few shots I took.

She asked if I was having fun watching all those storms. All those storms?! What storms? This has been the wimpiest monsoon season in the decade I’ve been out here. We’ve had lots of clouds and humidity, but shit for rain. I think Phoenix has gotten way more rain than we have.

If she’s truly guilty, then I’m glad Hope was found guilty like she said she was. She’s to be sentenced next month. She’s looking at 40 years which really means about 12. Even so, you’ve got a long time to do, Hope! I’d kill myself for damn sure!

I just cannot believe she’s had the same celly for over 6 months. Why couldn’t we have been cellies from New Year’s Day, the day we met, till I left?!

She’s hoping to stay in Estrella rather than be shipped to Florida. That’d be nice. I just wish I knew when Teddy Bear will return, if ever! Could be soon, could be years, could be never, though I’d think that at some point they’d stick her back there.

She says that where she goes and for how long is up to the judge, and she’s trying to do things like get her GED to help, but as I told her, I wouldn’t put too much stock in the judge acknowledging her efforts. I suggested she not count on him to be pleased with what she’s done to help herself. I’m only speaking from personal experience. I bent over backward for this state. I knew they’d want me to see a therapist, so I went out and got one before sentencing, yet the fucking cock of a judge had already made up his twisted mind, before he ever laid eyes on me, to go along with the DA’s ludicrous recommendation of 6 months for words on paper. I did this, I did that, but nobody gave me a chance. No one gave a damn.

She says she’ll be on heavy probation when she gets out, but is ok with that as long as she’s free, though I know she won’t be “free.” Freer than in jail or prison, but no one on probation or parole is “free.” I asked her what her probation will entail and for how long she’ll be on it once she’s out. If standard probation could be as overwhelming as it was for me in the first 5 months, I can only imagine what intense probation is like! Sure, anything’s better than jail/prison, but sometimes I’ve felt like my probation isn’t probation, but rather an extension of jail.

Oh, how I hear her as far as wishing for a laptop goes! I missed my computer so much while I was in jail. Can’t imagine life without it!

Wednesday, July 31, 2002

I did some cleaning, did my workout, printed out the grocery list, so now I’m free to read, write, watch TV or whatever.

I was surprised to find I have a 29” waist at 125 pounds. I’m surprised it’s not 1-3 inches bigger. The combination of the crunches and the zapper really helps. It’s been a while since I’ve “dieted.” Working out won’t make me lose weight, but it’ll keep my weight where it’s at, and I’ve resigned myself to the fact that I’m not going to lose weight. Just like you can’t have thin curly hair or thick straight hair, middle age and skinniness just don’t go together. Not without drugs, a serious lack of eating, or some medical problem. It’s simply not natural for 95% of those over 30 to be thin and I wouldn’t lose the weight even if I could. Why lose weight I’d only pack on two weeks later?

I’m pleased to see that Scot has skipped July altogether as far as bugging me here at home goes. I thought he would. More so, I hoped he would. I still don’t think I’m gonna get 3 months off from him here, though. I think the time I did was only a fluke. It makes no sense to come less often when I’ve got more of a reason to run and then start coming more often when that reason lessens a little with time. Something else was no doubt going on in his life that actually took higher priority than me.

Paula is one fucked up individual. It’s sad. It really is. I told her to dump this cock that filed charges on her that he dropped, warning her that things wouldn’t get better and that he’d probably file charges again. Well, she didn’t dump him and he did file charges again. So now she’s got a show-cause hearing on August 15th.

After asking myself numerous times how she can keep putting up with the same old shit from the same old types of guys, the answer’s as clear as it was when I asked myself that about Tammy. She likes it. She truly likes it. It’s both sad and sick, but some people are like that. No one can be so dumb and naïve as to just happen to get with the wrong guys this many times. She’s obviously actively seeking this type out. It’s bad enough that they’re cocks, most of which are sickos, but to make bad news even worse, these are Ricans she’s going after.

Just like there are pain freaks out there, there are stress freaks, too. I honestly believe she enjoys the stress, the anger and the frustration. She’s an aggressive person who loves a good fight. Paula would be absolutely miserable if she suddenly had a good life with good people in it. That’s just not for her.

I’m not going to bother emailing her because half the time Justin doesn’t let her see the email. In an email I sent last night, I said I wasn’t smart enough to figure out the Hairdini and maybe she could. Then Justin replies saying: yer smarter.

Yeah, I am. At least when it comes to who I hang with. One can only advise a person so many times not to hang with users and abusers whether or not they’re related to us, but it’s up to them to do what they’re going to do.

Her selfishness really irritates me at times. All she wants to do is bitch about her fucked up men when we talk. Never does she ask about me, about Tom, etc. She did ask if it was hot out here, but that’s about it. It gets so frustrating. I try to change the subject and talk about something more cheerful, but then she goes right back to the usual shit she cries about.

I’m going to be talking to her less and less and writing less and less, too. I’m sorry for her, but it gets old. It really does. I’m not going to “dump” her and I’m not going to try to change her. I’m not Dureen. But I am going to avoid contact with her more often. That is after I find out if she got the package okay, then, if I can get a word in edgewise throughout her non-stop babbling and bitching, I’ll see if I can find out what she thinks of the stuff.

I can relate to and understand her selfishness to a degree. Abuse tends to make a person selfish, cuz whether or not you get off on it, you’re so wrapped up in your day-to-day survival that you’re just not in a position to be thinking of others.

[tiikerikani]

All aboard the time machine

2024 Aug 18 – Utran Uittoareena, Joensuu

Funnily, 2 years ago, on this same mid-August weekend, I also saw Rautiainen on Friday and Vesterinen on Sunday. But that's not the only parallel, as you will soon find out...

The usual shore pic:

I cut short my traditional listen-through of Sorni Nai because I heard music coming over from the theatre already at like 4:15. I went over to the yard there and sat on the usual steps facing the restaurant. Turns out the audio techs were setting up their stuff using tapes from previous performances, which ... really confused me at first.

Regular Groupie drives through the yard at 4:25, followed immediately by Merch Table Guy and Merch Lady. Regular Groupie walks over to me a bit later to say hi (she'd ended up parking the car in the other lot outside). At this point (about 4:45) the band van shows up and the guests who had purchased the pre-show dinner go inside the restaurant.

When I went inside to get my usual mug of coffee, I noticed that there was a stack of paper tickets by the till. So they did exist, despite not having really needed to use them. Anyway, I found out on Friday that they do actually scan the ticket QR codes now (they might have switched to this last year, since my paper ticket then had a unique alphanumeric code printed on it), so I'd printed out the ticket email at the library the day before.

The same (I think) two fangirls who blocked me in the queue last year started the queue again this time, but I remembered from Friday that there would be a second lane so I took up position there instead. I was first to be let in at 5:55 (yay for QR code on paper) and casually jogged to my normal first row seat. The girls took the other side of the centre aisle.

It's also my tradition to read something sociology/philosophy-related while queuing/waiting.

The woman and her husband on the other side of me were local. They weren't able to snag tickets last year but were on the ball this year. I think they must be newer fans because they didn't know about my cape. She was really excited to practise speaking English with me (it happens, I don't really mind). She'd recently lost a family member, so she was in tears the whole time. Not to trivialise her grief but certain songs trigger a grief-like mood in me as well and I also wanted to cry but sometimes I just can't. It makes these posts really hard to write.

Pictures part, I guess:

These people in the boat hung around a bit. There were also some people sitting on the dock on the other side of the river almost the whole time. Hey, free entertainment.

People more proficient with their cameras or whatever can go ahead and take their portrait photos of his infectious happy face. I'll be in this corner trying to capture his other, less common, expressions. My pictures don't win any popularity contests and that's OK.

Oh hey got a good picture of Markus and his grin again (he was not wearing fun socks)

I tried to get a few more of these reaction shots but I need more practice with the iPhone:

Why is he gesturing at me again after a [checks notes] 15-month break? (I'm not complaining but I thought he was over it.)

The two fangirls hung around after and wanted the set list signed by whoever they were able to catch, such as Jukka-Pekka. Markus was talking with some couple, and the fangirls and I hovered trying to find a gap in the conversation. It just didn't feel like it was happening so when I did get a moment I just said "Thank you" and shook hands and went on my way.

Maybe it's because it was Sunday, but the place cleared out really quickly. Like all the guests had either disappeared into the bar or (more likely) gone away within at most 20 minutes. Even Regular Groupie had to jet because she had work the following morning and needed to drive like 6 hours to get home. (She's told me once but I don't remember where she's from.)

Merch update: In addition to the denim jackets with the back patch, they'd also printed the design on the backs of t-shirts. Which, in my opinion, is less fun because it isn't as self-referential that way. They were also selling the patch separately so people could sew it onto their own things, but they'd already sold all they'd brought with them this weekend. I'm not really sure where I'd sew it. Like it looks quite large but is it the same size as the big Nightwish patch on the bottom of my party overalls? It'd take up a huge chunk of the apron I got for Vappu this year, which I'd hoped would give me at least a couple years' worth of space...

Maailma palaa

Kohti sydänpeltoja

Samaan mutkaan kaatunut

Jamesin takki

Kolme hyvää vinkkiä

Ilman mua

Tummilla teillä

Rodeo

Turisti [intermission]

Exodus

Valot eteiseen

Kiljut riemusta

Faarao

Kanto (yes the guitar solo is improvised.)

Kukaan ei koskaan

Nuoriherra

Hetken ikuinen

// Arlandan portailla

[Concert write-up archive and master calendar]

[magicalsliceofpie]

Day 6-10

On day six I was so tired. All I remember eating was an omelet with cheese and some hot chocolate. I was stressed out because I was trying to finish up some final projects for class. I didn't finish them which stressed me out more.

On day seven I felt completely exhausted. I stayed in bed all day but I didn't do much. I tried to finish my final projects which were due the next morning but I was just so tired. I started feeling sorry for myself so I made some cookie dough and ate 6 good size cookies worth. I also made 2 packs of the cream carbonara ramen flavor from that spicy ramen brand. At the end of the day I almost finished the projects out of anxiety but I fell asleep anyway. I barely had any liquids that day. I did have a glass or two of milk.

On day eight I was woke up very sick. I finished my projects early in the morning and printed them out. I felt dizzy and disoriented but didn't have any other symptoms. Every time I get sick and think its something else I get told it was stress induced and I can't keep going to the doctor. So I just wrote it off and went to work and my late lab. At work I felt even worse and I just stopped by my lab to turn in my project and told my professor that I wasn't feeling good. He let me leave and I'm grateful for that. I could barely drive home. I also slept terrible with constant tossing and turning. That day I drank a cup of milk and ate a banana. I had one slice of pizza when I got home. I drank a lot of water and some sugar free Gatorade for the electrolytes.

On day nine I took my temperature and it was 100 on my forehead and 102 under my tongue. I didn't feel good at all and I called out of work and school. I drank even more liquids that day. Only water this time because the gatorade started to taste pretty bad. I couldn't stomach anything with sugar or even sweet after eating all that cookie dough on day seven. I ate two eggs and two prunes for breakfast. I puked up everything around lunch. For dinner I had clam chowder and a slice of sourdough.

On day ten I was starting to feel better. When I'm sick, throwing up signals the end of it. I ate one small pancake, I made a white rice with a bit of butter and salt, and I blended frozen blue berries, yogurt, and some local honey together. I went to my late lab to present my final project but I called out of work again. They don't mind calling out because they don't have a lot of staff and don't want anything to spread. One time something spread to half the company and from then on they rather you just stay home. One of my class professors asked for a doctors note and I don't know how to tell her that the doctors is too expensive for me right now and that this was likely stress induced anyway. So I just told her that I didn't have one but that I was unsafe to drive to work or school. That usually works but I haven't gotten an email back yet. When I got home I ate a handful of peanuts (lightly salted, no sugar) and a tortilla out of the fridge. My appetite hasn't returned quite yet.

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

I didn't exercise or do my routine for any of those days. I managed to shower twice and do my laundry but that's about it. This is what my health is like. I have given up on going to the doctors because they tell me the same thing. It's stress. And I have no choice but to believe them because they ran so many tests that I could barely afford. Blood tests and stool samples and ultrasounds. There's nothing but a bit of fat around my liver and even that shouldn't cause any symptoms since it is barley noticeable on the ultrasound. I would like to believe that I have some mystery illness and the doctors aren't listening to me but they are listening.

Everything just keeps showing negative. I feel like I'm going crazy. I was in lab on day ten and someone told me "It seems like you are sick every week. Did they (the doctors) tell you what's wrong?" and it just stuck with me. Even the people I barley know can tell that I'm just not healthy. I push and push and push but it just makes it worse. I know I'm just ranting now but I am happy that I made healthy choices with my food this week. I am going to keep trying to eat healthy and exercise. This blog and the food journal I have been keeping will help me in the future. If there is something wrong with me I can prove it by showing that I'm living a healthy life style. And if there is nothing wrong with me then I can see the patterns of what makes me sick.

I'm trying to keep a positive outlook. I'm going to get back into routine very soon.

[radicallow]

Interview between Jolijn Baeckelandt, Nienke Baeckelandt and Tamara Beheydt in the artists’ shared studio  

17 March 2024.

Tell me about your first experiences with Saint-Cirq-Lapopie and Radicale1924.

Jolijn Baeckelandt: The first time we went to Saint-Cirq-Lapopie, in 2022, only Nienke was participating in the Parade. I just tagged along. I did take a lot of photographs there, and after talking with Chantal it became clear that I was going to participate the following year as well. I didn’t have the intention to make a work that first year, but I took photos – like a tourist would – and it turned out that they would come to play an important part in the work I would later develop.

Nienke Baeckelandt: Chantal (Yzermans) had contacted me, first via email. I found it difficult to create a work in Saint-Cirq-Lapopie. I collected rocks, which we brought home. We stayed in the village during summer, but not during the Parade itself. That was impossible for me. 

read full interview below OR on Jolijn or Nienkes page.

Which work did you make that first year, in 2022? 

NB: I had collected rocks and Jolijn and her boyfriend brought them back to Belgium for me. I made epoxy molds from them and tried to cast them into ice. I made videos of how the stones melted, but I wasn’t completely satisfied. Instead, I decided to present a transparent epoxy version, merging with a smaller original stone, which seemed to ‘melt into’ each other. It was as if the transparent stone was desperately trying to conserve the other one. 

That seems very fitting for the Parade, which in itself is also a fleeting event. 

NB: My practice always revolves around themes such as melting, transparency, seeing and not seeing, ephemerality of moments. That’s what I like about working with ice. It’s transient, you cannot keep it, whereas other works of art are usually conserved, shown multiple times, maybe sold. There is a lot of beauty in making a work that is temporary. And indeed, it reminded me of the village itself. The stones also reminded me of typical souvenirs, like the crafted wood objects in Jacky’s shop in the village, or like minerals that you can buy in the museum shop at a prehistoric cave or archaeological site.

The work you created the following year, in 2023, is related. This time, you did use ice as your medium. 

NB: The work Tasteless came easier to me – I believe because I had already experienced the village once before. I created my own glasses, plates and cutlery in ice and let them melt on Chantal’s table in her garden, where we always sat. I wanted the visitors of the Parade to witness this melting process (and I filmed it). The village itself seems like a frozen memory, there is a strong desire to conserve the heritage, but at the same time, hardly any inhabitants live there all year round. This is contradictory: wanting to conserve the stones, the heritage, but letting the soul disappear from it. And it happens in different places around the world too. In Flanders, I see this contradiction between the will to conserve Flemish heritage, but letting contemporary artists struggle. Anyway, that is what I wanted to show with the work: a frozen memory melting, with the most picturesque view of Saint-Cirq-Lapopie as its background. 

Jolijn, was your work also inspired by your experience of the village itself? 

JB: It’s so striking, in the village, to see how people come by car in the morning, open their shop or restaurant and go back home to another town in the evening. There is only momentary life. The first time I visited Saint-Cirq-Lapopie, I took polaroid photographs, quite a cliché. Back in the studio, I started scanning and printing them, repeating this process with each new printed result. I often work with patterns and images relayed in different mediums. The photos became the first layer of many, combined with scenic postcards of the village. My printer was broken and this also added to the image. The photos are present in the work, but fade with every new layer. I keep on scanning and printing layer upon layer and ultimately, I draw on them. Finally, I reduced the drawings to the original first layer: the format of a postcard. I added another drawing on top of the reproduced postcards. So, it became an edition but with each copy being unique.  

Somehow, several things came together in this piece. I had this idea for a long time, since 2016 I think, to work around the contrast between ‘fiction’ and ‘non-fiction’. For me, this is also related to seeing and the contrast between green and red, which are contradictory colours, but also complementary. The have functions in painting, but also in our society. And I suddenly saw this idea perfectly fitting with Saint-Cirq-Lapopie, where there is a tension between the history and heritage on the one hand, an a kind of ‘Disneyfication’ on the other. I also created a pair of glasses, with one red glass and one green. The glasses are completely dysfunctional, made from cardboard and sticking together with tape. They make a kind of promise, of showing you what is real and what isn’t, but in fact, they’re useless. For the Parade in 2023, I presented these works, accompanied by a banner with the words FICTION / NON-FICTION, on a blanket in the street, trying to sell my work to tourists. 

At the same time, you also started a spontaneous collaboration with Corentin Canesson, a French artist who was at the time residing in Maisons Daura.  

JB: He was working as a resident at Maisons Daura and had an exhibition there. Chantal introduced us. Corentin’s project revolves around a collection of works, both his and others’. It’s a travelling project with works constantly being added due to spontaneous encounters, such as ours. So, I was invited to add my works in the show at Saint-Cirq-Lapopie and one work to his collection, which now traveled to Switzerland. I am still in touch with him. We are both painters. Content-wise our works are rather far apart, but we do relate.

In the threefold exhibition in 2024, you will both participate on different moments. What are your plans? 

JB: I am still developing the works. The ideas are forming, but works usually develop just by doing. I will most likely continue working from those scans and maybe translate them to posters. Again, working with the idea of advertising the village and its tourism, but it would be closer to my own medium than the postcards. 

NB: I will participate in the exhibition in May and I plan to show the video of the melting process of my previous work, Tasteless. I am doubting whether I will slow it down or speed it up. In any case, the experience of time will play an important part in it.

How would you describe the general impact of participating in Radicale1924, for your practice? 

NB: I especially felt the impact of being there during the Parade… What this project does – it brings you together with other artists, but also people of the village. I was already experimenting with ice, but I really developed it there and made a strong specific work there. It was like a test scene. It’s a Parade, but it’s also a safe environment to show your work. It’s not like in a museum or institution. And because of that, the works usually turn out really well. You do work towards something real and concrete, but you’re allowed to develop it organically. 

JB: As a painter, I often work alone and my practice is a bit isolated in a way. In Saint-Cirq-Lapopie, I am getting out. It is valuable to be surrounded by other artists, who are also there to create work. And remarkably, in this place, the ambiguity that I work with anyway becomes tangible, inherent to the context. It’s not neutral in that sense, like an exhibition space would be. And the idea can grow throughout several years of participation, that is a great gift. 

NB: We had really nice encounters there. It’s not like at an opening or event here, where you might not really talk to each other. In Saint-Cirq-Lapopie, we eat and work and talk, so you get to know each other on a different level. Just by being in the same environment as other artists, you have a kind of unspoken check-up of your work. You see it in the artistic eco-system, whereas in your studio, you often remain alone, in your own thoughts. Speaking with Chantal is also a good way to spar about the work. That’s rather rare.

Are the works that you created in Saint-Cirq-Lapopie still there? They stayed behind?

JB: Yes, it only seemed logical to leave something behind. 

NB: The work with the stones too, yes. It was created for that place so it makes sense. The stone especially: the real stone traveled from Saint-Cirq-Lapopie to Antwerp, and its copy traveled back. Just like the video will now come back one year after the work melting. It wouldn’t make sense to me to show this anywhere else. 

Do you feel that your practice is somehow related to surrealism or the practice of Breton? 

JB: For myself, my research or experience is really more empirical. I work from life, from the tangible contrast in the village between what is real and what is fictional. The idea of images fading and staying present only in the deepest layers… I think that might be the only link with surrealism. 

NB: My research was directed more towards the village and its demographics. Maybe the nature of my work is a bit surrealist, but not on the surface. Other artists worked directly with surrealism or Breton and I think it’s good that there is this balance. What is more important to me, is Breton being there, inviting his friends over. And the fact that his house has been annexed by tourism. It becomes something completely different, like the house of Ensor in Oostende. How do we deal today with the heritage of these artists? That’s what really interests me. Their legacy becomes inscribed in a kind of touristic, and often political narrative.   

[itsohh]

Mission: Love Note

A/N: Female reader, Kali my beloved. I don’t think I’ve ever acted up so much for a woman like I have for her.

Word count: 4405

Warnings: NSFT, smut, boss / employee relations

AO3

Rule number one: don't get caught. That had been your first priority when you first started. At least not until you found out how she felt about the situation. If she didn't feel the same, then you could pretend the matter didn't exist. That nothing ever happened. You would simply never tell her and you wouldn't lose your job.

Rule number one dictated the way you acted. The way you worked. Over time you had made up a decently sized map of the main facility. There you found all the camera locations and their blind spots. Next was people. Most people on base had a rather typical regime. You figured out what people's patterns were and what their preferred paths were. For most, you didn't have to bother about lower operatives and staff. No one would question your whereabouts but people equal to you? They would. Anja was one of your biggest targets. She would immediately discuss something with Kali if it felt off or strange. Observant and smart, she was by far your biggest hurdle. Luckily for you, Anja was a person of habit. Which meant she could be predictable.

The first time had been a thrill. Anja would be very much in her lab as you slipped into Kali's office. While she kept the room unlocked, everything inside of the room was heavily secured. But you didn't need anything in her room. There was, of course, a camera right next to it but you discovered there was a three-second blind spot when it turned. One you abused to gain access.

Heart racing inside of you it was like you were a recruit on a first mission. The small note had been prepared ahead of time. Neatly printed words folded in half placed in the middle of Kali's desk. At first, you had been worried about handwriting but soon brushed the notion off as you realised it was very rare for you to actually write something at Nighthaven. Most things were emailed or typed up so Kali wouldn't recognise your handwriting when she came back and saw it  She wasn't due back for another day at least. Leaving the room would be a little harder but your watch helped you time exactly when the camera would move. When the time struck true, you would slip out without notice.

This is how it started. A perfected system that you started to do whenever Kali left base. You hadn't heard anything from her. A matter which you couldn't tell if it was good or bad. Each note became more and more daring, flexing from small compliments into something far more. For a while, you were perfect in your execution. For a while.

Nerves racked your body, the note had been heavy in your hand. A final note of sorts that fully told her how you felt. The hand on your watch ticked away and you snapped the door open. Yet the hallway hadn't been empty. "Ah fuck!" With wide eyes, you quickly closed the door behind you. There with his hands over his nose was Håvard. You had always thought Anja would be the one to catch you, but no, it was unpredictable Ace.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry." Mentally you kicked yourself over being caught. Your hands went to his side in comfort and he showed you his nose.

"Is it bleeding?"

"No, no. It looks as perfect as usual." The compliment worked as intended and a grin covered his pain.

"Ah, that's what I like to hear. What were you doing in Kali's office anyway?" If it had been almost anyone else you could have brushed him off with 'important work, mind your own business' but in all matters he was your equal.

"Looking for Kali. Have you seen her?" Your voice was deadpan and he nodded.

"You heard she was back early too?" What. She was back early? You hadn't heard this at all. Panic spiked inside of you but you didn't allow it to get to you. "You know what, I'm really sorry to have hit you. How about I buy you lunch out somewhere as an apology?" His face lit up at the thought of this.

"How about dinner? I'll pay." He leaned in towards you with a wiggle of his brow. Mentally you smacked yourself. This wasn't what you wanted. Yet it worked as a successful distraction as the pair of you started to walk away from Kali's office.

"That would defeat the purpose of an apology lunch." He rolled his eyes at this but still held his interest and light mood.

"You know, you didn't need an excuse to ask me out." You almost coughed in disbelief at this.

"It's not a date Håvard." You reminded him as you started to look for an escape from the conversation.

"Ah yeah, 'an apology lunch.'" He winked while he gave you air quotes.

How is it that you managed to get the attention of the wrong person, mentally you sighed. "Yes, an apology lunch. How about I take you out tomorrow?" It was better to get it done sooner than later.

"Sure- oh wait we have Jason's birthday party tomorrow at lunchtime." Oh that, you had forgotten all about the engineer's birthday. His 50th, it was a big deal.

"Um, Friday then?" Your eyes caught a group of people exiting the shooting range and your head lit up.

"Can't wait."

"Look as much as I would love to stay and chat…" A lie. "...I'm actually going to hit the range. I'll let you get back to what you were doing Håvard." You veered off your course from him.

"Alright I'll see you Friday for our date" He shouted and you were glad no one was near to hear it.

"Not a date!"

"I'll tell Kali you were looking for her if I see her." You swore under your breath and you simply waved a hand in the air in response. Now you had to hope he didn't come into contact with Kali.

-

It had become routine for her. To get back to base and find a single note on her desk. In a way, it had been something she was subconsciously looking forward to. In fact, she had gone back to her office specifically for it, knowing one would be there. Her lips parted as she read the message. It was a game in a sense and you had evaded all her attempts to figure you out but a part of her liked not knowing it was you. In a way, it felt more genuine. Most would compliment and praise her in hopes to get into her good books or manipulate her. But with this, there didn't feel like an alternative motive.

The words on the thick paper were memorized in her mind. They made her breath hitch as she leaned on her desk. For a brief moment, she allowed herself to be absorbed in the note. Eyes closed, her mind wandered with the possibilities. Sure she had her suspicions but there was only one person she actually wanted it to be from. That angered her. Just a little. The heat in her cheeks made her feel like a young teenager in high school. A breath escaped her lips as her eyes opened and she promptly hid the note in her locked desk with the rest.

The small time she had set aside and come to an end, she needed to get back to work. With the confidence of a goddess, she strode out of her office only for her door to make a loud smack when she opened it.

"My nose!" A familiar cry came and she stared at the person who held their nose. Håvard. Pain consumed his face as he hunched over, and the door closed as she stepped out of the way.

"You should be more aware of your surroundings." Her brows narrowed at him.

"Is it bleeding? My noooose." He whined and she rolled her eyes at his dramatics. Still, she checked when he showed off his nose.

"It's fine."

"This is the second time today." Her lips curled slightly in amusement.

"You should have learnt from the first time." She folded her arms.

"It's not my fault that door swings out." He gestured to her office room.

"Have you tried watching where you are going instead of being on your phone?"

"My peripheral vision is exceptional, boss."

"Evidently not. Who was the first person to hit you?" Curiosity had peaked her.

"That was Clover earlier today." He winced as he rubbed his nose. "At least I got a date out of it." He muttered under his breath and Kali stilled.

"A date?" Her brows narrowed at him, envy boiled inside of her but she punched down her feelings with ease.

"She asked to take me out for lunch as 'an apology.'" His two fingers bounced Kali let out a breath that she hadn't realised she had been holding. It was just Håvard being his usual self. "Speaking of her, she said she was looking for you earlier. I think she might still be in the firing range if you're lucky." This sparked Kali's interest. Why would you need her? Either way, he had given her an opening from the conversation and she wasn't going to waste it.

"It might be important. I should go find her. Go ice your nose... and Håvard, watch where you're going."

-

The arsenal of your usual weapons was set up behind you. A handgun, submachine gun, assault rifle and marksman, all available at a moment's notice. You were focused on the hand in your gasp. With both hands extended out you emptied the clip at the target. No flinching or hesitating. The music beneath your earmuffs kept you caught up in the moment. It wasn't until a movement in the corner of your vision occurred did you put down your weapon. Kali. Shit. Mentally you swore, had Håvard snitched and told her that you came from her office? You hoped to god he hadn't.

"Hey, Kali what's up? Good to have you back on base." You pulled the plugs for your ears alongside the earmuffs and placed them on the metallic surface in front of you.

"Håvard said you were looking for me." Your shoulders relaxed for a moment before you realized you now needed a reason to have been looking for her.

"Oh uh, yeah. Nothing serious. I just uh." You swallowed and your eye landed on the marksman rifle behind her. "I've been wanting to improve my long range. You know, sniping and there's no one better than you. If your free sometime I'd love to get your help." Saved it. Mentally you patted yourself on the back for coming up with something so plausible.

Kali weighed her body and nodded. "Sure, always good to learn from the best. I'm free now. How about you warm up a few rounds and I'll see how you do." She took a step back out of your way so that you could retrieve the weapon.

You could feel your heart race as you put the target at the max range before you leaned over. There was something different about practising with her watching. Almost vulnerable as all your imperfections would be up for scrutiny. The gun snug in your grip you fired it. Just like with your pistol before, you emptied the mag. Your shots hit their mark, almost all of them. A couple of shots hit the target's shoulder but regardless all of them hit. To most, the result would be great. Kali wasn't most.

"Hm, you're tensing your shoulders too much. It's making your movements to stuff and your jerking." There was disapproval in her voice but no mockery. Her hand electrified your back in an attempt to fix your stiff state. The gasp that escaped your lips was covered by the knock by the doorway.

"Clover! Oh and Kali too." A high-pitched voice was ecstatic to see the pair of you.

The pair of you turned to face the scientist who bounced their way into the room. In her hand was a comedically large card and a pen. "I was just looking for Clover but since you're here too, you can sign as well. It's for Jason's birthday. Everyone's writing a message and signing it if you're interested." Lisa was her name, a nice girl. Smart.

You turned to Kali for a moment before you placed the gun down. "Sure. I'm not the best with notes though." You nervously laughed. A lie. One that Kali seemed to tense up at.

"Awh, just say how you feel. And if you don't know then just say something nice. It's the thought that counts." She handed you the pen and card. Kali's eyes were one of a hawk as you wrote down a small message and signed your name and call sign in brackets.

The card was quickly passed to Kali and she did the same but there was a shift in the environment. Kali's eyes seemed to look into your very soul. Seconds ticked by and Kali handed the pen and card back. Lisa grinned and bounced on her way. Kali started to follow the woman but onto to close the door behind her and you noticed the lock that she activated. The viewing shutters were closed behind you and Kali turned back to you.

"So we don't have any more interruptions." She explained. With a nod, you picked up the gun and her hand resumed its location. Directly behind you, her other hand came forward to correct your position. "You know better than this." She tutted in your ear. Her lips were so close to it as her head locked over your shoulder. "Fire." At her command, your finger came on the trigger and you squeezed it. Kali moved with you and absorbed the recoil.

It clipped the side of the dummy's head. "Continue." Slowly you lost yourself in her arms, working on muscle memory you fired almost your entire clip save the last bullet.

"I know I shouldn't be, but I am so completely and utterly smitten by you." The purr of her words in your ear had you flinch, the bullet missing its mark by a decent margin as your lips gaped open. How? Håvard must have told her and she figured it out. The words that you had left on her desk earlier in the day now spoken in your ear. There was no playing it off. She knew, there was no going back now.

"You missed. A shame."

"Kali I-" Your face was flushed with heat and her contact with your body didn't help the pure embarrassment that had consumed you.

"You have been busy while I have been gone haven't you, little girl." Kali leaned into your body and you put the gun down.

"I-I look if- sorry." You finally settled, stuttering over yourself.

She laughed. Oh god, she laughed. It was like music to your ears even though it made the heat in your cheeks five times stronger.

"Why would you say sorry. You weren't lying were you?"

"No of course not I just… I'm sorry if I've overstepped a boundary. You are my boss after all."

"That I am."

"If you wish to forget-"

"Forget? Oh, but how could I? I have all those so lovely notes in my desk at this very moment." Your eyes shut as she continued. "But you're very right about me being your employer. Do you know what's so great about leading a PMC darling?"

"N-no?" Her fingers were soft on your chin, directing your face towards hers as your eyes peaked open. With a whisper, her face was millimetres from yours.

"I get to pick the rules." At the end of her sentence, at the end of her bite, her lips pressed against yours. Time itself stopped as her lips confidently moulded against your own. The taste of her lips mixed with what you presumed to be Chapstick consumed your taste buds. Kali's movements paused for a moment, happy to take in your tongue against her own. Then like a wave she hit back twice as hard. Her tongue against your own had you moaning while she fully turned you around and picked you up only for a moment to slip you onto the metal surface where your empty gun lay.

Thoughts gone from your head, all you could do is think about was her. She consumed every thought, every sense of your body as your arms wrapped around her neck. Kali's hands ran up your thighs and stopped right at the bottom of your shirt. With her eyes now open she pulled back and a line of saliva kept the pair of you connected. "I have to know, how did you get into my office without any cameras spotting you?" It had been impressive feet that had been stuck at the back of her mind.

Without hesitation, you answered her question. "There's a decent amount of spit second blind spots and most operatives and employees are creatures of habit. I have a plan written up in my room that I can show you later."  Her brow cocked and she graced you again with a swift kiss.

"Smart girl. But you didn't think that such an exploit could be used against us?" She hummed, his fingers playing with your shirt.

"Permission to speak freely?" She laughed as this, a full laugh that had her head tilt back for a moment.

"Oh, darling, you have permission to do a lot more than that. I assure you, however this develops?" She gestured to the pair of you with two fingers. "Is completely separate from our work. When it's just us, I may be your boss but I am not your employer. Now, I believe you have a question you were going to answer." Her eyes met yours.

"The last person who broke into Nighthaven can't even be seen on cameras and frankly I don't know how someone would manage to get such information without having decent access. I mean it took me a good couple of weeks of pure observation for people's schedules and habits alone." You were lost in thought, all nervousness gone as you both defended and explained yourself.

Kali watched and listened to you with such fondness. Only when you finished speaking did you bite your tongue.

"You put a lot of thought into this didn't you?"

"I uh- yeah." She seemed amused by the notion, but more importantly, she was impressed. Flattered. "How did you figure it out? Did Håvard tell you that he saw me leaving your office?" Her brows shot up in surprise and she laughed.

"Oh, he told me that you hit him with a door. I didn't realise you hit him with the same door that I did."

"You what?" Your voice was one of disbelief. She continued to laugh but soon grew incredibly close once again.

"You're a saint you know that sweetheart? You have put so much time and effort into this and it's only fair I reward you with such." Once again you were blessed with her lips, her hands now firm on your shirt and slipped the buttons undone. Kali's messy lips pressed down your neck in a line of kisses before she stopped at the crook of your neck. "Say the word and I'll stop. I may like to push but I want you to know that whatever you're comfortable with is perfect to me." She whispered into your neck in a way that was almost surprisingly vulnerable.

"Kali?"

"Yes?"

"Please touch me." Kali's lips spread into a grin against your skin and she but down. Hard. A yelp turned into a moan that echoed from your lips as her hands found your breasts.

"Such a polite girl for me. All mine aren't you?"

"From the moment I saw you." You mumbled back.

"I remember seeing you for the first time." Her hand found the back of your bra and undid it. The pair of you worked together as a team to remove it and your shirt. Kali's thumbs brushed over your hard nipples as her palms grabbed at the rest of your breasts. "You were training. Had that just adorable focused expression on your face."  She pinched your nipple and you let out a whine. One she ignored. "Then you made just the most perfect shot and I knew right away I had to make you mine." She chuckled at the memory. "Of course back then I only meant as an operative. This, this is a pleasant development. One I plan to make the most of." The flat of her tongue licked the side of your neck before her teeth grazed your jaw.

"Such a perfect darling girl for me." Her breath was hot on your cheek while her fingers left your chest in preference of undoing your pants. "To be honest, I'm not sure what I would have done if it wasn't you sending me those notes. My disappointment would have been immeasurable."

You braced your hands on the metal surface and pushed your hips up into the air. Kali pulled down your pants and underwear in one go. At your ankles, your pants wear bunched up and she quickly dipped in between them. On her knees, she fell, face perfect height with your cunt. "So wet already, I'm glad to know you like my touch as much as I like touching you." Kali had that cocky grin on her face and her two fingers spread your lips wide.

"Stunning." Her tongue came forward to make a long and precise taste, her first taste of many to come. A gasp left your lips which turned into a curse while you lay back, your legs over her shoulders. One of your hands flew to her head and in the process of trying to get a grip, you knocked off her glasses and scrunched up her bandana before they both fell to the ground. Not that she cared.  "Perfection." Her judgment came and she dove back in. Kali's salvia mixed with your juices as she first licked every spot, gauging and evaluating all your reasons. The small flinch you made when she came.into contact with your clit. The moan that joined it.

Mentally she was already planning how and when she would take you next. There was no way this was a one-way time, no, plans sprout in her head as she thought of what she wanted to do to you in the future, oh the things she would dress you up in, the things she would put inside of you. Lost in your taste her mind drifted away only snapping back when your thighs squeezed around her head. What a view. Her eyes looked up at your heavy pants, body wet and desperate as you rocked your hips against her face.

Kali's tongue focused on your clit, firm hard licks that had you practically shaking against her. Her nails dug into your thighs as she kept you from crushing her head. Like a prayer, you chanted out her name and it was pure music to her ears. How could she refuse you? Her motions continued until a long draw of her name whined from your lips.

Your nails clawed at her hair as your orgasm rocked your body, relaxing all tension that had built up. Eyes nodded, all energy had left your body as Kali started up at you. Her head rest on the side of your thigh when you finally sat up. "Back down to Earth are we?" She placed a kiss on your thigh before she dipped out between you and your pants. Her finger swiped up your leg where your juices had started to run. A wink was given to you before she stuck it in her mouth, humming at your flavour. Her new favourite flavour.

Slowly you shrugged your pants back up and she handed you your shirt and bra. "The card." She finally spoke up and you gave her a confused look while you did your bra up. Kali came forward to help button your shirt, her eyes flickering yours only for a second. "The message you wrote in Jason's card. I recognised your handwriting from your little love notes." She wet her lips with her tongue. "Speaking of, I hope this hasn't put you off giving them to me. I do rather like my welcome home gifts whenever I get back to base." Kali smiled and took your hand, leading you from the room, any gun practice long forgotten.

Bonus:

Kali finished making her speech at the birthday party, her eyes glanced over to you where you spoke to Anja. Everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves, and Jason certainly seemed happy. In the corner of the room Kali eventually retired, she knew that they deserved to cut loose a little and wouldn't under her keen eye. Håvard was the one to join her, his eye on you just like hers was.

"You know I think I would be happy to be hit in the face by a door more often if it means I get more dates with her. Not my preferred method but I'm not complaining."

"It's not a date Håvard."

"She's just being bashful, the shy type you know."

"She's being nice, it's a pity thing." Kali rolled her eyes at him.

"Call it a pity date, all I need is one to show her a good time." Fed up with the discussion Kali put her drink down on the windowsill next to her.

"You're not taking my girlfriend on a date." She bluntly spoke only for both you and Anja to turn to face them. Of course, Anja had been the first person she spoke to about the situation and Kali wondered what the pair of you were talking about, probably her. Any nervousness had seemed to be removed from your body and you were frankly the most relaxed she had seen you in a very long time. With a wave, you beckoned her over.

"Wait what?" Hävard spluttered out as he absorbed her words. "What do you mean girlfriend. Like a friend that's a girl?" Kali shot him an annoyed look but ultimately left him there.

"Friend that's a girl right?!"

[ao3komorii]

Tangling with the Lifeguard (Pool Party Sett/Reader)

The Pool Party Sett story is done! I’ve gone with a beach!AU sort of setting where league races exist in a modern-day beach sort of place. Also sorry to any MF or Syndra mains, they don’t really come out the best in this xD Hope you enjoy, and as always, there is a smut warning for the end!

---

The sun was shining high in the sky, crystalline waters lapping against the shore as beachgoers took advantage of the perfect summer day. Taking in the scene from your place in the shade of a tree on the border between the beach and parking lot, you let a smile grace your lips as you mused on just how much this place seemed to not change, even after so many years.

The last time you had set foot on this beach, you had been twelve years old, full of excitement and unaware of the harsh realities of the adult world. Your parents had brought you here for that summer, now thirteen years ago, the beautiful beach an unforgettable experience. You had left after that summer with treasured memories, and a new friend, that same friend the very reason why you had returned to Port Navori beach after so long.

Taliyah had been the same age as you, with fairly lax parents who let her roam the beach by herself, even as the small twelve-year-old she had been. You had bonded instantly, spending almost every day together, and keeping in touch through letters, and later emails and text messages.

You had long said that you had wanted to come back and visit the lively beach town, but the timing hadn’t been right, not until this year.

You were done all your schooling, and had quit your high-stress, low-pay job, and as Taliyah had said on your last phone call, you had no reason not to visit. Her parents had been travelling the world since they retired, so you would have her house all to yourselves.

In your absence, Taliyah had become a fairly accomplished surfer in the local scene, working at an ice cream shop on the beach to support her expensive pursuits. She had been so insistent that you couldn’t find yourself able to refuse her offer; work in the ice cream shop with her in the day, and then spend the rest of your time catching up with each other. You had missed your friend dearly, and had accepted the offer without a second thought.

And now here you were, waiting at the beach’s edge for Taliyah to show up. She had told you to dress for the beach, sounding casual as was her usual, so you had worn a swimsuit with a short, flowy shoulderless dress on overtop. Unwilling to look like a lobster by day’s end, you had carefully layered yourself with sunscreen, and now all you needed was for your friend to get here already. Just when you were about to get out your phone to text her, an excited call of your name had you re-stowing the phone in your bag and looking back to see your friend bounding across the parking lot towards you.

Taliyah, dressed in a two-piece water suit and carrying a tropical-flower-print surfboard, came to a stop before you, leaning her surfboard against a tree to free her arms to tackle you in a hug.

“You’re finally here!” she grinned, surprising you with the strength of her hug. “We’re gonna have so much fun!”

“So what’s first?” you asked as you pulled back from the hug.

Taliyah hummed. “I guess I’ll show you the shop.”

You followed her onto the beach, recognizing the small bright blue building from the pictures she had sent you before. Taliyah took you around the back, fishing a key out of her pocket before unlocking the door and leading you into the small room.

There were large tubs of ice cream in the middle of the room, the walls lined with containers of various toppings and machines. On the back wall from you were two windows, glossy menus pasted to the doors that would display out when they were opened. Upon walking closer to the menu signs, you noticed something.

“Hey, it says we open at nine, but it’s ten-thirty…”

“It’s fine,” Taliyah replied with a shrug. “The owners are pretty chill. If anyone complains, I’ll just tell them I had to train the new employee.”

You playfully rolled your eyes. Sometimes you really envied Taliyah’s ability to be so carefree. Her calm energy was a big help for you, having got advice from her on numerous occasions over the years.

Taliyah came over to where you were, eyes flitting boredly to the menu boards before turning her attention back to you. “So I’m thinking we get you taking orders while I make them.”

“Works for me,” you agreed. It certainly sounded easier than figuring out what a poro float was supposed to be. You never knew ice cream stands had such fancy options now, used to the simple menus of ice cream cones and bars back at the shops in your hometown.

You were about to open the order windows when you were stopped by a rustling noise from the back of the store. You turned to see Taliyah digging in a cardboard box in the back corner, pulling out some folded-up fabric that was the same sky blue as the stand.

“Didn’t think you’d get away without an embarrassing uniform, did you?” Taliyah teased, tossing some of her fabric pile your way.

You caught the bundle, unfolding it to find an apron with Poro Palace Frozen Treats in pink bubble letters, little white fuzzy animals dotting the apron. There was an accompanying blue visor hat that looked like something out of a kid’s store. You reluctantly slipped both items of clothing on, looking back to find that Taliyah had done the same.

“Stylish, huh?” she smirked, striking a modelesque pose.

“We look like we work at an amusement park, Tali,” you laughed.

“Feels like it sometimes with all the annoying kids that come by,” she replied. “Okay, you can open it up now.”

Taliyah settled herself down in a chair in front of the section of ice cream tubs, and you reluctantly turned to unlatch and open the windows, unsure of exactly what you were getting yourself into.

The small room lit up with the outside sunlight streaming in from your window to outside, the immediate glare of the sun making you wish you had worn sunglasses.

Almost immediately, the masses were upon you. You noticed a woman with several children in tow who perked up as she laid eyes on you, striding over to you with her children right behind her, pushing each other as they scrambled to be the first one to get over to you.

You heard Taliyah groan behind you. “Get the pen ready. They always have the most annoying orders.”

You rose an eyebrow, but picked up the pen and notepad that sat beside the cash register as the woman came to a stop before you.

“You know, I’ve been waiting for an hour already. You young girls don’t know how hard it is for mothers,” the woman complained, not letting you get a word in edgewise. “Alright, tell her what you want.”

“I want a brownie sundae!” a small boy with blue hair who clearly intended to make full use of his outdoor voice shouted. “But with cotton candy ice cream and pop rocks and I want only blue candies!”

“Uh…” The kid was talking too fast for you to write, but luckily Taliyah had your back, a got it ringing out from behind you.

You weren’t sure how you had managed to get their orders out before they melted, messing up their total several times before Taliyah had to come and help you out. With a last snide look and a fistful of blue napkins, the mother and her little terrors left the stand at last.

“She’s the worst,” Taliyah said, bringing your weary gaze her way as she cleaned off an ice cream scoop. “I accidentally put one red candy in that kid’s sundae once and he screamed until I remade the whole thing!”

You winced. “Feels like we got off easy today.”

“Yeah,” Taliyah agreed. “Helps that they order the same thing every time, so I’ve got some practice.”

“Are they all this bad?” you asked, turning away from the window after seeing no potential customers nearby.

“Not all of them,” she replied with a strained smile. “I swear the heat just brings the jerk out in some of the people here.”

Speaking of jerks… your conversation was interrupted by an impatient-sounding throat clearing noise from behind you. You whirled around to see a redheaded woman with heart-shaped sunglasses and a revealing swimsuit leaning against your counter. She was staring at you like you were gum she had stepped in, flipping some hair over her shoulder when she knew she had your attention.

“Five cherry snowballs,” she said, dropping a few coins on your counter, some of which bounced and hit the floor. “To the red umbrella, thanks ice cream girl.”

Without any further interaction, she turned on her heel and strutted away, hips swinging as she went, leaving you wondering what had just happened.

You slowly turned back to face Taliyah again. “Um, do we usually deliver?”

“Nope,” she answered. “Not to people like that anyways.”

“But…” you protested weakly. You knew Taliyah got away with a lot here, but you didn’t want her to lose her job because some rude girl complained to her bosses. “I’ll just take them over and next time I’ll just say we don’t deliver.”

“Still tempted to put rocks in their snowballs,” Taliyah joked as she set about piling the scoops of red ice.

Soon you had a tray with five cherry syrup-coated piles of shaved ice in little plastic bowls with accompanying little plastic spoons stuck in the side of the dishes.

“I’ll be right back,” you said, heading past Taliyah to the back door, opening it to find yourself back out in the mid-morning heat.

The sand still felt uncomfortably hot underfoot, even with your flip flops on. With how hot it was out, these would have to be delivered as soon as possible to not be a puddle by the time they were eaten. Your only problem was that you had no idea where to go.

The redhead had said that she would be at the red umbrella, but of course nothing at this ice cream stand would be that easy. Standing just outside the hut, you were treated to a veritable rainbow of colored beach umbrellas. You counted at least ten red ones scattered across the beach, none particularly standing out to you. You didn’t have many options, and were forced to go with the most tedious one; checking every red umbrella until you found the girl and her group.

The first umbrella had been a bust, as had the next five. The sixth had led to a sweaty old man who told you that you were just in time to help him sunscreen his back. By the time you had hurriedly fled from that creep, it had been about five minutes of searching, the snowballs on your tray looking considerably droopier than they had been when you had left the shop.

You stared down at the tray of melting treats, unsure of what to do now. Should you go back and have Taliyah remake the snowballs? Try a few more umbrellas and hope you got lucky? You really hadn’t been anticipating this much stress when you had agreed to work here with Taliyah for the summer.

You frowned at the now-more-water-than-ice treats, your decision made. You couldn’t serve these, not as melted as they were. You would go back and help remake them and see if Taliyah had any insight as to which red umbrella was the right one. You turned around to head back to the stand, only to trip on your overheating flip flops and fall forward with a cry.

You had closed your eyes with a flinch as you fell, but opened them with a start as you heard a grunt from right in front of you. Looking up from your position in the burning sand, you felt like your heart was going to stop in your chest.

Standing before you was the most attractive guy you had ever laid eyes on, with fire red hair and a pair of black animal ears that looked soft to the touch. He was dressed in a tight pair of swim shorts, a lightweight red jacket tied around his waist. He had a flower lei around his neck, but that was the only thing that he wore on his top half, his insanely-well-built torso on full display, a torso you realized with horror was currently splattered with red syrup and shaved ice.

You looked from the hot guy to the ground, the sand around you speckled with plastic cups, spoons and napkins, your tray turned upside down in the sand. You slowly risked a gaze back up, only to see the guy staring down at you from behind his pink-tinted sunglasses as a clump of ice fell from his stomach to the sand just in front of your hands.

Embarrassment forced you to spring up, grabbing some stray napkins from the ground and dabbing them against the mess of syrup and ice on the man’s abdomen.

“I’m so sorry, I–” You looked up from your apologizing to see the man silently staring at you, your hand freezing in place as you realized that you were basically feeling this guy up through the napkins, the realization making your cheeks burn with shame and embarrassment.

“I’m really sorry!” you cried out, pulling your hands back. He still hadn’t said anything, and you realized that you couldn’t just stand here like an idiot, your flight instinct kicking in as you reached down to grab your tray before moving around the man and fleeing in the direction of the ice cream stand.

“Hey, wait!”

The man tried to grab your arm as you passed, but you were faster in your embarrassment-fueled retreat, and soon the hot stranger was far behind you. You didn’t stop running until you were back at the shop, the empty sand-logged tray clutched tightly to your chest, your heartbeat pounding in your ears as you shut the door, making eye contact with a confused Taliyah.

“Hey, are you okay?” she asked, getting up to approach you when you didn’t respond. “Talk to me. What happened? If that snob said anything to you–”

“No, no, she didn’t,” you replied weakly, sinking to the floor with your back against the door. “I didn’t even get to her.”

“Then what happened?” she pressed, bringing you a glass of water and prying the tray from your hands at last.

She ushered you to your feet and down into her chair, taking a seat on one of the counters. You took a deep breath, taking a sip of the water before recounting the events of the past ten minutes to Taliyah, who listened silently.

“…I didn’t know what to do, so I just ran,” you finished, setting your water down to bury your face in your hands.

“It’s no big deal,” Taliyah replied gently. “Everyone has embarrassed themselves in front of someone. Remember that time I tripped over my board in front of that group of tourists?”

“I covered him in cherry syrup, Tali,” you groaned. “I don’t think I’m cut out for this.”

“It’s your first day,” she stressed. “You’re bound to mess some things up.”

She stood up, returning to the shaved ice machine. “Now how about we remake those snowballs and then I’ll–”

Taliyah had frozen in place, a plastic cup in her hand as she stared straight ahead.

“Tali?” you questioned, standing up. “Are you–”

“That guy you dumped the snowballs on,” she quickly interrupted. “Did he have majorly cut abs and animal ears?”

“Uh, why?” You felt a jolt of fear shoot up your spine as you followed her gaze to see the man from earlier currently approaching the shop, well-defined abdomen now minus the sticky mess you had spilt all over him. “Oh god, it’s him!”

You and Taliyah exchange wide-eyed glances before you dove down out of sight, hiding behind the tubs of ice cream like they were a fortress.

“Please get rid of him!” you begged. “I’ll do whatever you want, I just can’t face him!”

You heard Taliyah sigh. “Fine, but this means you’re coming stone hunting with me tonight.”

You agreed immediately, even if the prospect wasn’t overwhelmingly appealing. Taliyah was always eager to add to her collection of shiny stones, but was so picky that it often took hours to find just one stone that met her standards. But right now you were so desperate that you would have promised her anything just to make the angry hot guy go away.

From your position behind the ice cream tubs, you could only hear Taliyah’s voice clearly, the general noise of the beach preventing you from hearing what the furry-eared man was saying. You wanted to peek out from your hiding spot, but found yourself chickening out. You really didn’t need him catching sight of you and making Taliyah’s job even harder.

You had gotten so in your own head with panic that you had completely tuned out of your surroundings until a hand waved in front of your face and you realized Taliyah was crouching in front of you, calling your name.

“You okay?” she asked worriedly.

“Is he gone?” you replied quietly.

“Yeah, he’s gone,” she confirmed, standing up and grabbing your forearms to pull you up with her. “Now help me remake those snowballs and then I’ll fill you in.”

You bit your lip as you scooped shaved ice into a row of plastic cups as Taliyah readied the cherry syrup. Soon you had five pristine-looking snowballs on your slightly-sandy tray, the sight of them bringing you back to your moment of collision with the cute guy.

The tray was snatched from your field of vision by Taliyah, who headed over to the rear door. “Be back in a few. Try not to freak out too much while I’m gone.”

And then the door was closed and you were left alone. Looking over at the order window, you decided that you were probably safer to just resume your position behind the ice cream tubs, unwilling to risk being out in the open in case the guy decided to come back.

While she was gone, you couldn’t help but fret over exactly what had been said between your best friend and the mysterious hot guy. She didn’t seem to be upset, so clearly their conversation hadn’t been that intense. Or maybe it had; Taliyah was a fairly relaxed person, so it would be difficult for a random angry customer to really get to her. But that didn’t quite make sense either; if he had yelled at her, you would have heard it over the noise of the beachgoers. All you were doing was overthinking yourself to death, exactly what Taliyah had told you not to do.

And it was there you remained until Taliyah returned, closing the door behind her and placing the serving tray in the sink before she turned her attention to you at last.

“Calm down, it’s fine… I think,” she said.

“You think?”

“Well he didn’t seem mad,” she explained. “He asked if a girl that looked like you worked here and I said you went home sick. Said he’d come back another time.”

“Another–” Oh god. Was he really so angry that he was willing to come back just for the chance to yell at you?

“I can see you freaking out,” Taliyah scolded. “Don’t. You’re fine. Musclehead or not, he’s not going to kill you just because you spilled shaved ice on him.”

She was probably right; hot shirtless guys on the beach likely had more important things to do than yelling at clumsy ice cream shop workers. By tomorrow, he would probably forget you ever existed, and you could go back to enjoying your time working alongside your best friend.

 The rock collecting that night had been long and boring, at least for you. Taliyah hadn’t found any rocks she liked enough to take home, only ending the search after she had found some sea glass that she had deemed acceptable to add to her collection. You could only hope that you wouldn’t owe her any more favors any time soon, unsure if you could survive another late night rock hunt.

The next morning, you entered the shop alongside Taliyah, who put her bag down and began to set up the day’s supplies. Considering it was ten minutes past opening time and Taliyah had insisted that she didn’t need help setting up, you decided that you might as well just open the order window for the day, hoping that mom and her group of demon kids wouldn’t be waiting out there, only to unlatch the widows and see something arguably worse.

The window had only been open a peek, but it was enough for you to see the large figure of the man from yesterday standing ten feet or so from your shop, his back facing you as he stared out at the beach. In your brief glimpse, you also noticed that the jacket wrapped around his waist had a white plus sign in a circle as well as the word lifeguard in white blocky letters above it. Oh god, of course you had gone and pissed off a lifeguard on your first day here.

You shut the barely-open windows with a too-loud slam that made you wince before you quickly locked them again and rushed over to Taliyah.

“Tali, he’s here again!” you hissed.

“Huh?” she replied, pausing her task of refilling a container of sprinkles. “Muscle guy?”

You nodded frantically and Taliyah frowned, putting the sprinkles down and approaching the order window herself. You watched as she opened the window ever so slightly, peering out for a few seconds before closing it back up.

“Well… can’t say I was expecting him to actually come back,” she said evenly.

“What do I even do?” you asked, staring at the order windows like they would burst open at any second and reveal you to the clearly-determined lifeguard. “He’s a lifeguard, Tali! What if he bans me from the beach?”

She rolled her eyes in response. “He can’t just ban you from the beach. Lifeguards don’t have that much power. If they did, I would’ve been banned a long time ago for all the times I’ve surfed after hours.”

“Then what does he want with me?” you asked, looking away from the window.

Taliyah shrugged. “You’d have to ask him that.”

“But what if I… don’t?” you replied weakly. “He’ll give up eventually, right?”

“I mean, maybe?” she said. “But it might be easier to deal with him now and get it over with.”

You saw her point, but it wasn’t her that was being pursued by a tall, muscly lifeguard with a vengeance!

Taliyah clearly caught the reluctance on your face and sighed. “Fine, I’ll switch with you for today. Now let’s go over how to make the basic stuff before we open.”

True to her word, Taliyah had allowed you to hide in the back making orders, telling the lifeguard guy that you were off today. You watched him walk away from behind the shaved ice machine, hoping that your ordeal was finally over, but your hopes were quickly dashed the next day as you went to open the store again, only to see the same broad back facing you from just outside the shop.

Taliyah had reluctantly agreed to switch again that day, and the day after. But by day four, even the promise of helping her scavenge for rocks again wouldn’t get her to agree to switch.

You closed the window again, turning to Taliyah with pleading eyes, but she was having none of it.

“It’s been four days,” she said, arms crossed. “Clearly he’s not giving up. You should just see what he wants.”

“But…” The thought still terrified you. You knew you deserved to be yelled at for what you had done, but it was made that much worse by the fact that the subject of your plight was just about the hottest guy you had ever seen.

Taliyah shook her head at you. “Okay, but I’m not doing orders again today, so if you want to keep hiding from him, we’ll have to move onto plan B.”

Plan B, as it turned out, was a mascot suit of sorts; three fluffy poros stacked on top of each other like a snowman. A poro each made up your upper and lower body, the last poro being the head of the costume. You looked incredibly awkward, the arms and legs of the costume hairy and tipped with little brown claws. You were momentarily stunned by the sheer lengths you were going to just to avoid this guy, but you were already in the costume, so you reasoned that you might as well follow through with it now.

Taliyah put the costume’s head on you and your world was plunged largely into darkness, minus the mesh one-way view out of the top poro’s eyes. You were helped to the back door, some fliers for the store shoved into your hands.

Taliyah helped you walk out front, and you were pretty quickly swarmed by kids. You couldn’t see the lifeguard guy, but the relief that coursed through you was short-lived, swallowed by the immediate explosion of business brought on by your costume.

One thing you hadn’t considered in your haste was the heat. You weren’t sure if it was the costume or if today was hotter than usual, but very quickly you found yourself becoming a sweaty mess under the weight of the dense, furry costume.

The longer you were in the costume, the worse you felt, but you were determined to stick this out. So you handed out fliers and posed for photos with children while Taliyah ran the stand.

You wished that you could wipe the sweat from your face, but you weren’t sure if you could even reach up to remove the costume’s head yourself due to the awkward shape of the costume. So you endured the ever-increasing heat, only feeling wearier as the time ticked by.

You waved goodbye to a group of kids as they left with their ice cream cones, the sweltering heat really bearing down on you. As you went to turn and head back to the stand to ask Taliyah to help get the head off, a wave of dizziness crashed over you. You took one step towards the stand, and then another, and then it all went dark as you felt yourself falling forward, too weak to stop your descent to the ground.

 You woke up with a heavy head, feeling foggy with confusion. The last thing you remembered, you had been heading back to the stand…

Immediately, you realized that you weren’t at the ice cream stand, and you weren’t wearing the poro suit, or even your beach dress. Sitting up in the cot you laid in, you found that you were wearing only your swimsuit.

As you sat up, a blue ice pack that you hadn’t realized was there fell from your forehead and into your lap. Picking it up, the pack only feeling slightly cold, you turned to look around the room, still unsure what exactly was going on.

You were in a room of some sort, guessing it was afternoon by the minute amount of light filtering into the room, even through the closed curtains. There was a fan gently whirring above your head, but otherwise the room was silent.

There was another cot beside yours, and a table nearby with a few red first aid kits stacked on it, some bandages messily spilling out of one of them. There was a sign pulled over the door, the side facing you reading come on in, we’re open.

You got up from the bed, shuddering with disgust when you noticed just how sweaty your whole body was. The bed squeaked as you got up from it, your knees hitting a bedside table between the cots that you hadn’t noticed had been there. On the small table was a glass of water, as well as a white fan that was emblazoned with what looked to be a group of cats waterskiing.

You picked up the fan, letting out a small laugh at the silly-looking cartoon cats on the fan. It looked like something you could win at a carnival booth.

“If you can laugh, then I guess you’re feelin’ alright.”

A deep voice from behind you made you jump, fingers fumbling the fan, which fell onto the floor with a clatter that was only made louder in the quiet room. You turned to look behind you, only to fall off the cot in shock when you saw the very lifeguard you had been trying so hard to avoid standing in the doorway of a small office you hadn’t noticed was there.

“Hey, careful!” He quickly crossed the room to squat down in front of you, taking your elbow and helping you back up onto the cot. You were too stunned to resist and found yourself falling into his chest as a wave of dizziness hit you.

“You okay?” he asked, and you tried to nod, but your head was spinning too much to focus. “Hey, hold still.”

He placed his hands on your shoulders, keeping you steady against him until you were able to regain your focus. When he was satisfied with your condition, he pulled back, releasing your shoulders and instead reaching out for the glass of water on the table next to you.

“Drink,” he instructed, handing you the cup before standing up. “I’ll be right back.”

He stared at you for a moment before finally turning back and heading into the office at the back of the room.

You watched him go, feeling on edge, but complied, bringing the glass up to your lips and taking a long drink. The last thing you wanted to do was give this guy more reason to be upset with you. You were surprised at just how refreshing the water felt, and you had soon downed the entire glass, placing it back on the table when you were done.

“Alright, lay back down,” the lifeguard instructed as he returned.

“What?” you replied. What was he going to do to you? How had you even got here? Where was Taliyah?

He stopped before you, furrowing his eyebrows as he looked down at your shaky, terrified form. “Are you–”

“I’m sorry!” you exclaimed, bowing your head. “I didn’t mean to spill the snowballs on you! If you need to yell at me, go ahead. I’m sorry I didn’t just come out sooner and–”

It had occurred to you mid-ramble that he had yet to say anything, and you cut off your babbling, slowly looking up to find him staring at you with what you could only describe as a bewildered look on his face.

He blinked. “Is that why–”

“I’m so sorry!” you interrupted, bowing your head again. “If you want to ban me from the beach, I get it!”

“Ban ya from the beach?” he replied with a bark of laughter. “The only thing I wanted to do was get your number.”

“My… what?” You had to be hallucinating. There was no way he had just said that.

“Lay down first,” he spoke sternly, and you complied, still feeling stunned by his words.

Once you were laid down, he picked something up from the bed, which you recognized as another ice pack. He placed it on your forehead, the cool pack immediately flooding you with a feeling of relief. Closing your eyes, you let out a tired sigh, suddenly feeling fatigued.

“Get some rest, princess. We’ll talk when you’re up again.”

You took his advice, the cooling from the ice pack lulling you back to sleep, your eyelids too heavy to keep open.

When you woke up again, you felt infinitely better, your head clearer and body feeling less overheated. The ice pack on your forehead was room temperature, and it was now dark outside. There was a light illuminating your left side as you sat up in bed, turning to see the office in the back with its light on.

The cot squeaked under you, which was responded to by the squeak of a chair from inside the office, the red-haired lifeguard emerging from the office and approaching your bedside.

“Feelin’ any better?” he asked, and you nodded, biting your lip nervously. “Got you some more water.”

You looked over to the bedside table to see the water cup refilled and took hold of it, grateful to have something to focus on other than the intimidatingly muscular man before you.

You drank the entire glass before you forced yourself to finally address the situation before you. “Um… why am I here?”

“You passed out,” he replied bluntly, taking a seat on the cot next to yours. “Overheated yourself in that rat costume.”

“They’re not rats, they’re poros,” you replied, unsure of what to say.

He let out a huff of laughter. “Poros that important to you that you’re willin’ to fry yourself for ‘em?”

“No, that was…” you trailed off. Well, you might as well just admit it. If he had gone out of his way to care for you after you had passed out like an idiot, then he deserved the truth. “I was avoiding you. I was scared you were going to yell at me. My friend didn’t want to keep covering for me at the window so I decided to wear that stupid poro costume.”

“So that’s what that was about,” he replied. “And here I thought you were avoidin’ me ‘cuz you weren’t interested. Gave up on gettin’ your number and then got news that someone passed out from heat stroke.”

You were still having a hard time comprehending the asking for your number part, so you instead chose to focus on the other half. “Heat stroke?”

“Not sure what you expected, wearin’ that costume in this heat,” he said. “Can’t say nobody’s ever been afraid of me before, but giving themself heat stroke just to avoid me is a new one.”

He sounded somewhat self-deprecating, and you immediately felt bad. You had clearly misjudged him, and realized that he hadn’t even mentioned the snowball incident himself.

You forced yourself to meet his eyes, even with as awkward as you were currently felt. “I’m sorry for giving you so much trouble, and for spilling snowballs all over you. I’m just really sorry.”

He laughed. “Ain’t nothin’ for you to apologize for. I’ve had worse get on me since I started workin’ here, and usually it ain’t from a cute girl.”

You tensed in your seat, tearing your gaze from his to look down at your feet, your cheeks feeling warm.

“Hey, don’t go overheatin’ yourself again,” he scolded, standing up from the bed. “If you’re not interested, that’s fine, but I think it’s best if I take ya home. Don’t need your friend yellin’ at me again if you pass out on the way back.”

As much as you wanted to deny his assertion of you being not interested, you couldn’t muster up the courage, so you instead quietly accepted his offer of help. You would have to ask Taliyah what he had meant when you got back.

It was surprisingly cold on the beach at night, the icy breeze sending shivers along your skin. You stared out at the dark ocean waves, entranced by the water crashing against the sand, when your focus was broken by some soft fabric being laid over your shoulders.

You turned to look over your shoulder to see Sett just behind you on the steps of the lifeguard office, the jacket that was usually around his waist now laying on your shoulders.

He caught your curious look and raised an eyebrow. “You nearly cooked yourself to death today, I ain’t about to let you freeze yourself to death now.”

“Thanks,” you replied quietly, reaching a hand up to keep the jacket around your shoulders.

Your feet met the soft sand as you followed Sett towards the parking lot. The beach was totally empty, an odd contrast to how things were in the daytime. It felt weird to actually see the shape of the landscape unobscured by giant beach umbrellas and a sea of bodies. You only looked away from the empty scene when you realized that you had left the sand, and Sett was staring expectantly at you.

“…what?” you asked, getting the feeling that he had said something that you had missed.

“Which way?” he repeated with a quick glance at the street ahead of you.

“Oh right,” you replied. “My friend lives on Sandstone Way.”

Sett’s ears perked up. “By that tacky souvenir shop?”

“Yeah,” you laughed. “Right by there.”

You giggled at Sett’s assessment; you had noticed the eye-hurtingly brightly painted store when Taliyah had walked you to her house from the train station. She had rolled her eyes at the store as you surveyed the display of t-shirts with embarrassing designs on them, stating that sometimes they got some good rocks in, but it wasn’t worth the amount of tourists always asking for directions when she was walking around the neighborhood.

Looking over at Sett out of the corner of your eye, you were struggling to think of anything to say. He was dressed in just his sandals and shorts, his sunglasses forgone and giving you a clear look at his golden eyes that seemed to glow in the dark.

“So this your first summer here?” Sett asked, breaking the brief silence as you walked side by side. “I know I’d remember you if I’d seen ya before.”

“I was here for a summer when I was a kid,” you answered. “But everything looks so different now. Maybe I just saw this place differently when I was a kid.”

“Nah,” he dismissed. “It never used to be this busy here. Tourists bring money to this place, but it means it’s always loud around here.”

The conversation was slowly helping you feel more comfortable with the intimidatingly handsome lifeguard. You felt dumb for putting so much energy into avoiding him.

“So have you always lived here?” you asked.

“Born and raised,” he answered with a grin that you couldn’t help but feel looked a little sad. “Ma used to work at the boating shop… and the laundromat… and the candy store.”

“All at the same time?” you asked incredulously.

Sett shrugged. “Didn’t have much of a choice. Pa ran off on us when I was a kid, and it wasn’t like anyone would hire a fatherless runt to work for them.”

“Sounds like it was hard,” you replied. “Did you ever find out where he went?”

“For his sake, I’d better not,” Sett sneered. “I heard ma cry missin’ that scumbag more times than I can count. There ain’t a family here for that bastard to come back to.”

“How is your mom doing?” you asked as you turned onto Sandstone Way, passing by the tacky tourist shop, the flashy paint on the walls too bright even at night.

“She’s doin’ good,” he answered, finally looking happy with a satisfied smile. “Got her to quit her jobs when I started workin’ enough to pay the bills.”

“You’re a good son,” you complimented him. “She’s lucky to have you.”

You smiled at him, coming to a stop before Taliyah’s house. “Well, this is me. Thanks for walking me back.”

“Take care of yourself,” he said. “I don’t wanna see you passin’ out again.”

“I’ll try not to,” you replied. “No more poro costumes for me.”

“On that topic,” he purred, leaning closer to you. “You never gave me an answer.”

“An answer?” you squeaked, flustered by his sudden closeness.

“I’ve been tryin’ to get your number for days now,” he replied, and you did your best to supress a shiver from running up your spine. Was this real life?

You wet your lips with your tongue nervously, unable to miss how Sett’s sharp eyes watched the movement.

“I, um, I don’t have my phone on me,” you said, immediately realizing how dumb you sounded. You didn’t need your phone on you to tell him your number! You hastily made to amend your statement. “…but if you come by the stand tomorrow, I’ll give it to you!”

“Oh?” Sett’s grin was wide, gold eyes flashing dangerously. “I s’pose I could find some time to stop by. See you then, sweetheart.”

Sett turned to walk away, but you stopped him with a call of his name. “Wait, your jacket–”

“Keep it for the night,” Sett replied. “I’ll get it from you tomorrow.”

You reluctantly agreed, stunned silent by his bold flirting, his jacket sitting warm on your shoulders as you watched him walk away. You stared at his broad back until he was out of sight, only then turning to head inside, knowing Taliyah would be waiting.

 The next morning she was still on you as you spent some extra time getting ready.

“I still can’t believe he gave you his jacket,” she teased with a grin. “I mean, I figured he was probably into you, but–”

“You what?” you replied as you paused styling your hair.

“I kept telling you to talk to him,” she replied. “No guy like that is going to wait outside your work for days in a row just to yell at you for spilling ice on him. But I didn’t think you’d believe me if I told you.”

“I just feel so stupid giving myself heat stroke just go avoid him,” you lamented.

“Yeah,” Taliyah frowned. “If I had realized it was that hot out, I never would’ve let you go out in that thing.”

“It’s my own fault for being so dumb,” you insisted.

“But hey, it all worked out, didn’t it?” Taliyah grinned as she slipped on her water shoes. “You’ve got a hot lifeguard coming to visit you at work today.”

“Don’t remind me. I’m still super nervous,” you said, adjusting your beach dress over your most flattering swimsuit.

“You’ll be fine,” Taliyah replied. “He’s clearly super into you. You should’ve seen him when you passed out yesterday.”

“What?” You had been so tired last night that you had only told her the basics before crashing for the night, completely forgetting to ask her what had happened yesterday.

“Someone got him when you collapsed,” she told you. “You should’ve seen his face when he pulled off the poro head and saw it was you inside the costume! I tried to come with, but he told me he’d handle it. I maaay have threatened his life if anything happened to you, but just a little.”

You laughed. So that’s what Sett had been referring to.

Taliyah came up from behind you as you stared at your appearance in the mirror, resting her chin on your shoulder and meeting your eyes in the mirror. “Relax, you look great. Fuzzy ear boy isn’t gonna know what hit him!”

“Fuzzy ear–” you sputtered, laughing at Taliyah’s choice of words. “I guess his ears do look pretty fuzzy.”

“Well if he lets you pet them, tell me how soft they are!” she teased, pulling back from you to grab her bag. “Now let’s go. You’ve got a boy to meet!”

You somehow felt even more nervous today than you had the few days you had spent avoiding Sett. You were still having a hard time wrapping your head around the fact that a guy that looked like he had walked straight out of a fireman’s calendar was coming to your little beachfront ice cream stand for the sole purpose of getting your phone number. And his jacket, which was folded neatly on the countertop beside you.

You weren’t exactly sure when he was going to come. Usually, he would be there waiting outside in the morning before you opened, but all you had opened up to today was a sparsely-populated beachfront, no handsome lifeguards to be seen. By two in the afternoon, your anxiety had begun to get the better of you.

“Stop pacing,” Taliyah scolded you. “He’ll be here.”

“But what if he decided not to?” you said, taking a deep breath to try and calm yourself down. “What if this was just a joke?”

“Then I’ll go kick his butt,” she responded plainly. “He’ll come. Relax.”

You were about to reply, when a ding of the service bell at the order window had you spinning around, ready to take an order, only for the words to die on your lips when you laid eyes on the well-muscled lifeguard with the fuzzy black ears just outside the order window, sending a grin your way.

“Here to pick up my order,” he said, leaning an arm against the window.

“Your… order?” you replied, too entranced by his appearance to properly make use of your brain.

“A pretty girl promised me her number if I came by,” he replied, looking down at you through his sunglasses.

“I… right… I…” You turned back quickly to see Taliyah staring expectantly at you, mouthing the word number at you. Right.

With slightly shaky hands, you reached for the small notepad at the front counter, taking that and a pen in hand and trying not to focus on the fact that Sett was watching you as you began to write.

Double-checking that the number was right, you handed the paper to him, your fingers touching as he took it from you. Remembering about your other promise, you reached over to grab the lifeguard jacket from the counter beside you. You went to hand him his jacket, surprised when he didn’t take it from you.

“What time do you get off?” he asked, and you answered a quiet six. “Give it back to me then.”

With a short wave and a grin, Sett made a show of stowing the phone number in his pocket before sauntering off and leaving you standing there slack-jawed.

“See? Was that so hard?” Taliyah called from her seat at the ice machine. “Now you just have to keep it together for your date.”

“I don’t know if I can,” you said, leaning back against the counter.

“You did last night, didn’t you?” she countered. “He’s just a guy. A really hot guy, but still. Don’t freak yourself out. You deserve a nice guy. It’s just a bonus that he has more abs than spiders have legs!”

You let out an amused huff. Taliyah was right, as she always was. You needed to get over yourself and let yourself have a good time tonight.”

But for now, you had customers to deal with. You and Taliyah let out a shared groan as you saw the nightmare mom and her army of brats heading towards you. You both returned to your posts, hoping their overly-complicated orders would be right on the first try this time.

 Taliyah let out a yawn, stretching her arms high above her head before beginning the process of cleaning up for the day. After the last customer left, you hastily closed the order window, not wanting to give anyone the chance to come and beg about how it was only five minutes past closing and they’ve been wanting a banana split all day. You had learned your lesson from that mistake on day two.

Once the order windows were closed and locked, you joined Taliyah at the side counter, helping to return all the different containers of toppings to their rightful places. You found your hands moving slower, your nerves slowing you down in order to prolong the inevitable.

Taliyah eventually got tired of your pitiful attempt at stalling for time and gently removed the container of blue sprinkles from your grasp. “Just go, I’ll finish up here.”

“Are you sure?” you asked, and Taliyah sent you an unimpressed look. “Okay, fine, I’m going, I’m going.”

“I hope you know I expect all the details later!” she grinned as you made your way to the door, hesitating with your hand on the door handle for only a moment before opening the door.

It was mercifully less warm outside today than it had been yesterday, not to mention that you were also minus a heavy mascot costume. Yesterday hadn’t ended too badly for you, but you would still prefer to not end today in a hospital if you exacerbated your current heat-sensitive state.

You weren’t sure if you preferred if Sett was already there, or if you got there first to wait for him; neither option seemed to abate your nerves. But of course, the lifeguard was prompt as always, leaning against one of the beams that held up the awning above the order window.

You didn’t think you had been making much noise walking along the sand, but he seemed to hear you, turning to face you with a grin as you approached.

“Ready?” he asked as you came to a stop before him, tucking some of your hair behind your ear in an effort to keep your cool.

“Yeah,” you answered, impressed that your voice hadn’t come out squeaky with how nervous you were.

“Good,” he replied, before his grin turned teasing. “Was half expectin’ ya to come on our date in that rat costume.”

“Poro!” you corrected again, trying not to get flustered by his mention of this being a date. You weren’t sure what else it would be, but you couldn’t help the butterflies that fluttered in your stomach when he had acknowledged the obvious.

He surprised you by taking your hand, pulling you along with him as you tried desperately not to stumble and fall into the sand.

The beach crowd was beginning to thin out, people heading home or to one of the many beachfront restaurants nearby. Watching as a kid packed up his sand toys, you wondered if one of those restaurants was where you were headed as well. Sett hadn’t told you anything about what the plan was, and you found yourself curious when he led you to the bright white lifeguard office.

At first, you had thought that maybe he had forgotten something, at least until you followed him into the small building to see what looked to be the table that had previously held all the first aid kits, now decked out in a soft-looking purple picnic blanket. On top of the makeshift picnic table was a spread of various tasty-looking finger foods, the scene completed by two chairs pulled up to the table, cushions with a starfish pattern placed on the seats.

You were perhaps too dumbfounded by the sight, as you snapped out of it to Sett calling your name, looking over at him to see him looking surprisingly tense. You should probably say something, you realized.

“It looks great,” you said, meaning every word as you looked over the table. “Are those cabbage rolls?”

“Ma helped me make ‘em,” Sett explained, looking bashful for the first time since you had met him as he raised an arm to scratch at the back of his neck. “Helped me with all of this, actually. Never done anythin’ like this before.”

“You mean a picnic?” you asked curiously.

Sett chuckled. “Picnics. Dates. Not a lotta women ‘round here who wanted anythin’ to do with a fatherless half-breed.”

You had a hard time believing that; you had noticed several mothers checking him out as they packed their family’s stuff to leave the beach. But the hint of something sad in his eyes made you reconsider. You had no memory of seeing someone like him that summer you had spent here, but it wasn’t like that was a surprise to you. You and Taliyah had been in your own little world at that time, only ever spending time with each other.

“Well I’m excited to try your cooking,” you said, figuring a change of subject was for the best.

Sett grinned as he sat down. “Should be decent. Haven’t poisoned anyone since high school.”

Your eyes widened, hand freezing on its path to grab a cabbage roll, startled eyes darting to his.

Sett let out a bark of laughter at your alarmed face. “Relax. Wouldn’t poison ya. Maybe those kids that keep swimmin’ into the boating zone, but not you.”

“Thanks… I think?” you replied, biting your lip as you stared down at the cabbage rolls, weighing your options.

“Wasn’t real poison anyways,” he scoffed, taking some rolls from himself. “Not my fault sugar and salt look the same.”

You laughed, grabbing some food for yourself at last. “I suppose they kinda do.”

“Ma didn’t wanna hurt my feelings, but I knew when I tried some myself,” he explained.

“It was nice of her to try,” you offered.

“Too nice,” he said. “Ma is always too nice. Never said anythin’ bad about my old man, even after what he did. Had to work three jobs for years because of that bastard, but not a word.”

“Well I’m sure she’s glad she has you,” you commented. “Even if you give her food poisoning sometimes.”

“Once,” he corrected, taking a bite. “Learned my lesson the first time.”

You followed his lead, finding the food to be entirely poison-free, and actually the best home-cooked meal you had eaten in a long time. The conversation moved to swapping work stories, and you were unsurprised to find out that the mother and her the demon children had been a thorn in Sett’s side as well.

“They really buried sleeping sunbathers in sand?”

“Five times in a day one time,” Sett grouchily confirmed. “Last time Braum went to handle it. Said I would bury those little assholes under the sand if I had to go yell at them one more time.”

You sympathized with his pain. You felt lucky that you had only experienced the tip of the annoyingness iceberg with that group of little terrors.

“Braum?” you inquired as you both left the lifeguard office, the beach now fully dark.

“Fellow lifeguard,” he answered, nonchalantly taking your hand in his as you made your way off the beach. “Bald, giant moustache, even bigger than me. Better at the whole gentle-but-firm thing than I am.”

“Oh, I think I’ve seen him before. He comes by for poro pops sometimes,” you said, mind drawing a picture of the surprisingly friendly man in the small purple swim bottoms with a weakness for poro-shaped ice pops. “So are you the head lifeguard then?”

Sett considered your question. “Guess I am the boss of ‘em. All of the other lifeguards are always comin’ at me with problems to solve. The extra pay doesn’t hurt either if I wanna keep momma from feelin’ like she has to work.”

“Say thank you to her from me for the dinner. It was really good,” you said as you passed by the familiar tacky souvenir shop.

“She’ll be happy to hear it,” he replied with a soft smile that made your heart thump in your chest. “I know she wishes she had more to cook for than just me.”

You both came to a stop before Taliyah’s house, and you sneakily glanced over just to make sure Taliyah wasn’t peeking out from a window, which she wasn’t. You turned your focus back to Sett, only to find him closer than he had just been. How was he so good at sneaking up on you?

A large hand came up to cup your jaw, thumb brushing against your cheek, and your face was tilted up towards Sett’s. You were glad it was dark out, because otherwise you knew your reddening cheeks would be obvious.

“Still afraid of me?” he asked, voice low, lips so close to yours that you could make out a small scar that crossed over his bottom lip.

“No,” you answered, making no move to pull away as you stared up into his eyes. “Not unless I was about to taste your high school cooking.”

“Smart,” he replied with a smirk. “But I’m talkin’ about right now, because if you don’t turn and run into that house, I’m gonna kiss you.”

Your bag almost tumbled from your grasp, but you held fast as you stared at Sett, whose own had already become half-lidded. You had no words to describe how much you didn’t want to run right now, so you didn’t use any, instead angling your face further upwards, trying to make your willingness abundantly clear.

With a grin, he leaned down and kissed you.

Pulling back slightly, he dove back in, his other hand coming to your waist to pull you against him. You happily leant into him, your hands on his firm chest.

When he pulled back again, you opened your eyes at last, feeling almost as dizzy as right before you had passed out from heat stroke.

Sett looked content, and you were only hoping you looked half as composed as he did right now. He leaned back in to give you one more peck before pulling back from you entirely, the cold from the air outside immediately apparent as soon as you were minus his warm hands against your skin.

“Think I’ll stop by tomorrow,” he said. “Been cravin’ a cherry snowball for some reason lately.”

 Sett was a man of his word, you learned, though you were less happy to see him the next day when he asked if he could order a cherry snowball served like last time, and then laughed as you had proceeded to sputter like a broken machine.

His visits became daily, sometimes bringing Braum with him, who continued to surprise you with the sheer amount of poro pops he was able to consume in one sitting. Quite a few nights a week, you had found yourself all around Port Navori with the half-Vastayan lifeguard. You were surprised at how supportive Taliyah was being, considering you had originally come here to spend time with her.

“Gives me more time to surf,” she answered with a shrug when you had asked her. “And maybe that boyfriend of yours can convince you to stay here after the summer is over.”

“Boyfriend?” you yelped, and Taliyah raised an eyebrow.

“You aren’t? I thought he would have made it official by now. It’s been over two weeks… have you guys even done it?”

“Taliyah!” you scolded her, switching back to professional mode as a group of people approached the stand.

As you helped prepare their orders, you couldn’t help but think about what she had said. You and Sett had kissed quite a lot actually, but he had yet to do more than that. But it was far too embarrassing a subject for you to have the confidence to broach, so you had resolved yourself to just be content with things as they were.

It was just your luck that right then was when Sett had decided to make his daily visit to the stand, approaching the counter as the other group left.

Taliyah apparently wasn’t done pestering you for the day as she sped to meet him at the counter before you could get there yourself.

“Hey!” she greeted Sett with a sly smile as you stood frozen behind her, nervous about her motivations. “You’re on your break, right?”

Sett raised an eyebrow. “What about it?”

“Well,” she said, in the voice you knew meant that she wanted something. “There’s a surfing contest I entered, and it’s almost my turn and it won’t even take that long and–”

“Tali!” you interrupted, rushing over to the counter.

“All I need is an hour,” Taliyah insisted, before pulling you beside her at the counter. “And she needs some help while I’m gone since lunchtime is when most of the people come by.”

“I’m fine, I–”

“I’m in,” Sett cut in, eyeing you with almost palpable smugness.

“Awesome!” Taliyah replied, immediately shucking her apron and hat onto the floor in her haste to get out the door. “Have fun, see you after I win!”

“Taliyah!”

Your call of her name fell on deaf ears as she already had her board and was out the door, leaving you standing at the counter with Sett still leaning against the counter.

Sett reached up to pull his sunglasses off, tucking them into his packet, his golden eyes fully uncovered and sparkling with mischief, the sight alone making you feel weary.

“Well? You gonna invite me in?” he asked. “Not sure I’d fit through the window.”

You scrambled to meet him at the back door, not wanting him to try and get into the shop through the order window that was less wide than he was. It was a strange feeling to open the back door of the shop to a guy that was almost too tall for the doorway, and another thing entirely to try and corral him into behaving as you tried to keep the ice cream stand functioning while Taliyah was gone.

“Aren’t lifeguards supposed to set a good example for others?” you huffed, wiping ice from your apron. At least he hadn’t made things truly equal and put cherry syrup on the ball of shaved ice he had pressed against your neck.

“Not when I’m off the clock,” he answered. “Besides, it’s my once in a lifetime chance to see what workin’ one of these is like.”

It would definitely be only one time if you had anything to say about it. If the almost-hour with him here had taught you anything, it was that Sett was not cut out to work in an ice cream shop.

The scoops of ice cream he doled out were easily twice the size of the ones Taliyah did, which made for happy customers, but a less happy bottom line if he was here for more than an hour. He was also lacking Taliyah’s patience, and you were forced to sideline him when an especially picky middle-aged woman came by who insisted you remake her smoothie four times until it had an acceptable pH level. The woman’s complaints had miraculously stopped the moment Sett had approached the window himself, becoming so invested in flirting with the handsome lifeguard that she had snatched her next smoothie attempt from you without complaint, not even glancing your way as she batted her eyes at him, only leaving when he excused himself with an excuse of needing to make more orders.

You approached Sett to check on him and found yourself pulled down into his lap as he leaned back in the chair.

Huffing, he pulled you against him, nuzzling against your neck. “Don’t know how you deal with that. Couldn’t pay me to make her damn smoothie one more time.”

“You get used to it,” you replied. “Don’t you deal with worse as a lifeguard?”

“Yeah,” he grunted. “But nothin’ sayin’ I gotta be nice when I deal with ‘em.”

“That’s true,” you laughed.

“If anyone complains, they can go somewhere else. Ain’t another beach within a hundred miles as well-run as this one,” he bragged, kissing at your neck.

As much as you were enjoying his sudden affection, you knew time was running low until Taliyah would return. You made to pull back to tell Sett that, but were instead pulled into a kiss that took you a few breathless moments to find the strength to escape.

“This Friday,” he murmured, face inches from yours. “There’s a party at the pool. You should come with me.”

You had heard about the exclusive pool parties on this beach from Taliyah, but hadn’t expected to ever get an invite. The pool, which was at the far end of the beach from the ice cream stand, was as exclusive as it got. Gated with walls so high that you couldn’t see in, it was the membership-only place to be for all of the elite in the beach town of Port Navori.

“Is that… okay?” you asked hesitantly.

“Why wouldn’t it be?” he countered, and you didn’t really have an answer. “It’ll be fine. Come. Have some people I wanna introduce ya to.”

The door burst open at the same time as you nodded your agreement, revealing Taliyah clutching both her dripping board as well as a shiny blue ribbon.

“You won?” you asked, trying to disentangle yourself from Sett, who reluctantly let you up.

“Easily!” Taliyah gloated. “Nobody else stood a chance. So how were things here?”

“The money ain’t worth the drama of this place,” Sett griped.

Taliyah laughed. “Smoothie lady come back with a vengeance?”

“I’ll take kids buryin’ sunbathers up to their ears over this any day,” he replied with a grimace, standing up and stretching.

At his mention of ears, Taliyah had brought both hands up to her own head about where Sett’s were on his head, and you quickly waved at her to cut it out before he saw. Thankfully she did, but you could tell that you were going to get asked if you had pet his ears yet as soon as his fuzzy ears were out of earshot.

“I’ll text ya the time when I know it,” Sett said, giving you a quick kiss on the head and a two-fingered salute to Taliyah before heading out the back door.

“So?” Taliyah asked, pulling the chair up to the ice cream station after she had stashed her prize ribbon in her bag. “Are they as soft as they look?”

“I didn’t pet them,” you answered.

“It’s been over two weeks!” she complained. “Has he at least asked you to be his girlfriend yet?”

You shook your head. “He did invite me to a pool party with him on Friday at that fancy pool.”

“Really?” Taliyah responded, eyes wide. “You have to tell me what it’s like! I mean, I’ve seen satellite photos, but it’s not the same…”

“I’ll probably be too nervous to remember any of it,” you grumbled.

“This is your chance!” Taliyah encouraged. “By Friday it’ll be three weeks. You need to ask him if he sees you as his girlfriend or not.”

You reeled back, waves of anticipatory anxiety rolling over you. “I don’t want to scare him off. What if this is just casual to him and I’m too dumb to see it?”

“Then you’ll know,” she replied. “I know you. It’ll eat you up if you put this much energy into a guy without knowing how he feels about you. So ask. If he says no, then at least you’ll have an entire store’s worth of ice cream to drown yourself in after!”

Taliyah was right. She was always right. You knew that you couldn’t keep whatever this was up without knowing where you stood with him. The more time you spent with Sett, the more you wanted, and if he intended to keep things casual, you would rather know sooner so you could make an informed decision.

So that would be the plan then. Go to the party, have a good time (and get some photos of the pool for Taliyah) and then ask Sett about the state of your relationship. Sounded easy in theory. You could only hope you could muster up the courage to go through with the plan when the time came.

 After hearing that the party was to start at four, Taliyah had gone all out, closing the stand at two so she could help you get ready to impress the snobs. You hadn’t put up too much of a fight, happy to have her help and her company, as your nerves only climbed higher the closer it got to four o’clock.

“You’ll be fine,” Taliyah said as she styled your hair. “You’ll only feel worse if you don’t get an answer from him. And with how good you’ll look at the party, he won’t be able to say no!”

“Thanks, Tali,” you replied gratefully. “I promise I’ll get you a bunch of photos of the pool. And whatever else you want.”

“What I want is for you to stay here for good,” she said. “So really I’m just doing myself a favor by helping you. This place has been a hundred times more bearable since you’ve been here, and I want it to stay that way.”

“Still,” you persisted. “I feel bad that you’re going to so much trouble. If you want anything, just let me know.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Taliyah dismissed with a wave of her hand. “You should get going, don’t wanna be late to the fancy pool party.”

She practically shoved you out the door, and then you were alone, walking down the mostly-empty sidewalk. As you walked along the street, you couldn’t help but dwell on the possibilities. What would happen at the party? What would Sett say?

If he told you that he wasn’t looking for anything serious, what would you do? It was hard to have an answer for until you were in the moment, since a lot of it would depend on what Sett’s answer would be.

You walked through the parking lot, and then onto the beach, passing by kids building sandcastles and games of beach volleyball as you walked towards the end of the beach where the pool was. As you made your way to the fancier end of the beach, you began to notice the differences that marked the split between here and the side of the beach that you were usually on.

The shops on this side of the beach were much fancier, the sand littered with designer beach chairs and umbrellas. It was crazy just how different two ends of one beach could be.

The pool was noticeable from a great distance, or at least the wall white walls that surrounded it were. At least you weren’t going to get lost and miss the party entirely.

You approached the pristine white stairs that led from the beach up to the pool entrance, equal parts excited and apprehensive. The entrance was an open doorway, covered by a deep blue curtain and guarded by a muscled bouncer in white. The sight alone was intimidating; why hadn’t you just asked Sett to meet you beforehand?

You plastered a reluctant smile on your face before approaching the man. “Hi, I–”

“Name,” he interrupted, not looking up from his clipboard, sunglasses too dark for you to see his eyes.

Well it wasn’t like you hadn’t expected some level of standoffishness from the elite side of the beach. Keeping your smile up, you told him your name, waiting the prerequisite few moments for him to leaf through the list.

He seemed to have found what he was looking for, as his hand with the clipboard went to his side and he moved over to the curtain, pulling it to one side to allow you to enter. He had said nothing further, but seemed to be staring in your direction, so you took that as your cue and walked towards the now-open entryway and into the pool.

The entryway led into a hallway with pristine white walls, soft lighting hanging overhead. You could begin to hear chatter as you got closer to the end of the hallway, exiting into an explosion of sight and sound.

The pool was huge, and there seemed to be an intricate gold pattern on the tiles at the bottom. The pool was surrounded by lounge chairs and umbrellas, tropical foliage bordering the inner walls around the pool.

There were people all over, in and out of the pool. There was also a bar in the center which seemed to be very popular, as many people were carrying around intricate-looking cocktails.

More than the scenery or the people, your eyes were scanning the area for Sett. You checked your phone again to make sure, finding that it was the time he had told you to be here for. Maybe he was just running late or…

Your rising concern was broken up by the tap of designer wedges on the granite heading your way. You looked up from your phone to see two girls heading towards you, one of which you realized you had seen before.

The stuck-up redhead that had been the reason you had been out on the beach to spill the snowball on Sett in the first place was striding towards you, not a hair out of place underneath her likely-expensive sun hat. At her side was a lilac-haired woman in a swimsuit with a plunging neckline that was color blocked with various shades of purple. Together they made quite a striking pair, but your previous encounter with the redhead had you wishing that Sett would get here soon to save you from the impending conversation.

“Look, Sarah,” the purple-haired one sneered as they came to a stop before you. “So eager to pretend she’s one of us that she rushed right over.”

You took a step back, but that only seemed to embolden them.

Sarah lowered her sunglasses, staring at you like you were in her way. “Sad when they don’t know their place, Syndra.”

“Sett invited me here,” you replied defensively.

The women exchanged a pointed look before Sarah raised an eyebrow at you, a hand on her hip. “You ever think about why that was?”

“What?” you replied, unsure of what she was getting at.

“She doesn’t get it,” Syndra said with a cruel undertone in her voice that unnerved you.

“Look around,” Sarah said sharply. “Really look. Do half the people here look like they belong?”

You looked around, not sure what you were supposed to be seeing. A man with a hook-nose sat at the pool bar, flanked by women in skimpy bikinis. A humanoid form that seemed to be made of water conversed poolside with a large purple man in a ratty straw hat who was holding a ukulele. What were you supposed to be noticing?

“Sett is too nice to break it to you, so the job falls to me,” Sarah said with a smirk. “This is our annual loser fest. Charity case race. Bring-a-freak-to-work-day.”

“Pig party,” Syndra supplied.

“Yeah, pig party,” Sarah repeated, noticing your confused look. “Don’t know what that is? Poor thing.”

“I don’t–”

“It’s pretty simple,” Sarah interrupted. “We take half the summer to find the biggest freak we can, and then we bring them all together and crown a winner, and by the looks of you, Sett is really going for the top prize.”

You gasped, eyes wide, suddenly feeling like you were going to be sick.

“Aw, you really thought he liked you, huh?” Syndra mocked with fake sweetness.

“He didn’t… he never…” you stammered, clutching your bag to your chest.

“Well duh,” Sarah replied haughtily. “He wanted to win. Do you tell a pig when it’s about to become bacon?”

“What is meaning of this?” Braum accused, storming up to your group. “I have not heard of such a thing!”

“Need-to-know, Braum,” Syndra dismissed.

“And you didn’t need to know,” Sarah added.

You felt numb. This whole time… is that why Sett wouldn’t ask you to be his girlfriend? Why he never did more than kiss you? All this time, he had just seen you as a prize pig for an ugly date contest? It all made sense now, why he had been so desperate to get your number. He had never liked you… it had all been one sick joke. You should’ve known; nobody as attractive as Sett would ever see you as anything but a freak. And was too cowardly to come and tell you the truth to your face.

“Look, she’s crying,” Syndra taunted. “Don’t cry! Soon you’ll be queen pig!”

You couldn’t do this. You couldn’t stay here with all these people who saw you as less than human as your heart was breaking into pieces. You were so, so stupid, now wanting nothing more than to cry in peace. So you did, turning and running as fast as your legs would take you out of this awful place.

“Bye, piggy! We’ll ship you the ribbon!”

You heard Braum shout your name, as well as the cruel laughter of the women, but you didn’t stop running. Not when you got to the beach, nor the parking lot or the tacky souvenir shop, the sayings on the gaudy shirts too blurry to read through your tears. Your feet didn’t stop until you were at the doorstep to Taliyah’s home, out of breath, tears running down your cheeks.

The door opened, Taliyah’s face appearing in the doorway. “Hey, did you forget– wait, what happened?”

 “Settrigh, stay still!”

Sett frowned, but did as his momma requested, allowing her to tie the ends of his hair after she had finished arranging it. He loved his ma dearly, but he really didn’t have time for her to redo his hair ten times right now.

It was getting way too close to the start time he had given you, and with how nervous of a person you were, he had intended to be on time, but that was before his mother had discovered the reason why he was cutting their visit short today.

Ma was aware that he had been seeing someone, had been ever since Sett had needed help making food for their first date.

“You do intend to let me meet her, Settrigh?” she asked, stepping back once she had fixed his hair to her satisfaction.

“Yes, ma,” he answered, standing up from the chair.

He wasn’t exactly surprised by his momma’s eagerness, considering this was the first girl he had ever dated, let alone considered introducing to her. This world was shallow; he had learned that early in life, which may be why he found himself so drawn to a girl who had put her all into having nothing to do with him. You broke up the monotony in this busy beach town and gave him something to look forward to other than seeing his ma for the first time in a long time.

Sett knew he was working on a time limit. You had mentioned that you had planned on only visiting Port Navori for the summer, and the summer was half over already, which meant his chances to convince you to stay were also halved, which is where tonight came in.

He had been taking things slow, not wanting to come on too strong and scare you off like he had watched happen to many a beachfront pick-up artist. He had been unwilling to rush things and lose you, but the slip of the calendar into August had forced his hand.

He would be lying if he said he wasn’t a bit apprehensive as to how today would end. How would you take him asking you to be girlfriend? He could only hope that he hadn’t misread you entirely.

He didn’t go to the pool parties often, but it seemed like a good way for him to introduce you to his friends, as they didn’t often all gather outside of those parties. He knew you would likely feel out of place, but Braum would be there, and he intended to stick by your side the entire time. And then after the party, if things went well, then maybe he would end the night with you as his girlfriend, but the party would be the first step.

As he left his ma’s house, he found his mind turning to the party. If you were wearing that red swimsuit you had worn last week, then it was going to be a difficult night for his self-control. His desire to take things slow had really taken a hit then, his only saving grace being ma’s lecture on being a gentleman pounding in his head as he tried not to look at how your chest was half-busting out of your top as you leaned over to pick a thread off of his glove. You were really too hot for your own good, which made him all the more eager to see you.

He knew he was running late, the party having started at least ten minutes earlier. It wasn’t his style to be late, but he was also pretty helpless to defy his ma. He only hoped that you hadn’t given up on him and left.

He took the shortest route possible, which included a short trek through some bushes that left him more leafy than he would’ve liked, but it was all forgotten when he spotted the stairs that led up to the pool entrance.

He was able to bypass the doorman who was only half as big as he was and seemed to be wary of interacting with him, stepping out of the way as Sett approached. He pushed past the curtain, hurried steps heading down the hallway. You hadn’t been waiting outside, so clearly you had been able to get in. He tried to fight back the excited grin that wanted to take over his face, but it was a losing battle as he entered the pool area, eyes immediately scanning the area for you.

“Your cruelty is unimaginable!” Braum’s booming voice carried easily through the air. “That girl has done nothing to be deserving of such treatment!”

What had Braum so worked up? Generally he was an easy guy to get along with, easily Sett’s most tolerable co-lifeguard. Not much phased him, which was a little concerning. But Sett had other priorities, the most important being locating you.

You weren’t in the pool, and didn’t seem to be sitting in any of the chairs. Maybe you had gone to the bathroom and would be right back–

“Well how else was she supposed to know Sett is too good for her? She clearly wasn’t going to see reality without a little help.”

Sett’s ears perked up, his attention snagged by the mention of his name, but especially by the latter half of the sentence. He turned around to see Sarah Fortune with Syndra at her side, who had her arms crossed and looked bored. In front of them was Braum, looking more irate than Sett had ever seen him.

“What’s this about?” Sett asked in a warning tone as he approached, the fur of his ears standing on end, leaving him feeling like he wasn’t going to like where this was headed.

“Nothing you need to worry about,” Sarah dismissed, flipping her hair behind her shoulder with a flick of her head. “We just showed a daydreaming little clout chaser the way out.”

Sett’s eyebrow rose. “A what?”

“Your ice cream girl,” Braum cut in. “These two have told her that this is a party for pigs. They have told her that you intend to bring her here to win ugly contest, and then she had run off.”

“What?” Sett growled dangerously, but the two women remained nonplussed.

“We did you a favor,” Syndra stressed. “If we get a reputation of letting just anyone in, then we’ll lose all status as members of the ruling class of the food chain. So we decided to throw this little pig party to make you come back to your senses.”

“You’re one of us, Sett,” Sarah added. “This pool doesn’t have room for little nobodies who don’t know their place.”

“Rather be a nobody than whatever the hell this is,” Sett snarled angrily, the full knowledge of the truth turning his bad feeling to a mix of simmering fury at the two women, and worry for you. He hated himself for being late and allowing this to happen to you. “Save your concern and don’t talk to me again.”

“But we were–” Syndra started, but Sett wasn’t in the mood.

“If you even look at her again, you’ll have me to deal with. And unlike that girl you just bullied outta here, I ain’t so nice.”

With that, Sett turned on his heel and stormed towards the exit to go do his best to fix this mess.

Braum quickly followed behind him. “My friend, I am sorry I could not stop them in time.”

“Ain’t your fault,” Sett replied. “Wish I’d have known. Gotta go see if she’ll even talk to me at this point.”

“I wish you luck,” Braum said as exited the hallway and emerged out into the sunny late afternoon.

Sett parted from Braum, taking the stairs two at a time as he surveyed the area, trying to see if he could catch sight of you. He quickly crossed the sand, making a beeline for the ice cream stand, even if it seemed like a longshot. He passed by a group of kids throwing sand on an older man sleeping on a towel, but ignored it and kept going. If anything was on fire, Braum could put it out. Sett’s sole focus right now was finding you and hoping you’d let him explain himself.

His chest felt heavy with anger and regret. How could he have let this happen? He hadn’t realized how cruel those women could be, and it had led to them making you believe he thought you were some freak he was using for convenience, which could not be farther from the truth.

Seeing those two talk about you like you were a pariah had brought him right back to when he was younger, to what he had endured at the hands of people just like Syndra and Sarah. People who had ostracized him, did their best to make him feel like he didn’t have a place here. Sett-the-beast-boy-bastard; the words had haunted him for a long time.

He had grown tough in response to the years of bullying, but you hadn’t. This was your first exposure to how awful this place could be. He and ma had dealt with it for years after pa ran off; he had nearly gotten expelled from school after a particularly bad fight with a kid that had made one too many nasty comments about his ma to his face.

Sett stopped, letting out a frustrated sigh as he saw the large closed sign on the front windows of the ice cream shop. So that was a bust. Without giving the store a second look, he continued on towards the rocks and then up to the parking lot.

There was only one other place to try. Chest tight, Sett followed the same path he had the night of your first date, the same path he took every time he walked you home. The walk there was one long blur, his feet unable to stop moving until the familiar house was in sight. Without a moment’s hesitation, Sett approached the front door, rapping his knuckles against the wood. When no answer came, he tried again, and after a few moments, the door opened to reveal Taliyah, who glared once she caught sight of him.

“What do you want?” she asked, narrowing her eyes at him.

“Is she here? I need to talk to her,” Sett said, urgency bleeding into his voice.

Taliyah sighed, stepping outside and closing the door behind her. “You’re lucky I’m even talking to you after this. You don’t deserve to talk to her if that’s how you let your friends treat her.”

“They ain’t my friends,” Sett argued. “If I’d have known they were gonna pull that shit–”

A sly smile lifted the corner of Taliyah’s lips. “Good answer. If you had said anything else, then I’d be slamming the door in your face right about now.”

“Then can I–”

“Talk to her?” Taliyah interrupted. “Nope. Not a good idea.”

Sett’s face must have taken on a darker quality, because Taliyah retreated back a step, raising her hands in the air in mock surrender. “Relax, tough guy. I didn’t mean it like that. But she’s a little too upset to talk to you right now.”

The information only made Sett feel worse. He wanted so badly to talk to you, to do what he had wanted to do before this mess had happened and make you his girlfriend. You had never felt farther away than you did right now.

“Give me some time to calm her down. I can get her to be at the pier at seven, then the rest is up to you,” she said, levelling him with a stern look. “I know this wasn’t your fault. That’s the only reason I’m giving you a chance. She really likes you, so try not to make her feel any worse than she already does. Bye.”

And then Taliyah was gone, retreating back into the house and leaving Sett standing on the doorstep.

 “Brought you some water,” Taliyah announced as she entered the room, glass in hand.

“Who was at the door?” you asked.

She shrugged. “Someone looking for my dad. Told them he’s not here.”

You nodded. It was probably too much to hope that it would be Sett. You winced as you thought his name. You hated how much you wanted to see him, someone who had used you to win some popular kid ugly date contest.

So it had all been a lie then? All the things he had told you about his life, his family? Every time he had kissed you, was he picturing kissing one of those girls instead? Is this really what popular people did for fun? You felt stupid for falling for it, for falling for him. You were so stupid.

With some prompting from Taliyah, you took a sip of the water. After she had made sure you had drank the whole glass, she sat down next to you, taking the glass from you and setting it down on the bedside table.

“I should have known,” you croaked.

“Known that popular girls are bitchy? Maybe,” she responded.

“That it was too good to be true,” you corrected.

“You’re acting like you’re eighty,” she scolded. “There are other guys out there. Ones who don’t have shitty friends.”

“Yeah, I know,” you replied. “But I really liked him. And I didn’t even get to pet his stupid fuzzy ears.”

“Well if you’re joking, then you must be doing okay,” she said. “How about we go do something to take your mind off of things?”

You frowned, and she rolled her eyes. “Not right this second. I’ll give you until six-thirty to get yourself ready to go.”

Taliyah got up off the bed and headed towards the door. “I’m not gonna let your night be ruined because of a couple of snobs.”

She closed the door, leaving you alone with your thoughts again. You laid back on the bed, intent on taking some time before you got ready to just veg out. As much as the notion of going out didn’t excite you right now, it was probably better than being a mopey mess all night. There would be other guys; it was just a shame that you had liked this one so much.

Two hours later, you were walking down the street with Taliyah. Your getting ready to go had consisted of washing your face of all the smeared makeup from your crying, brushing your hair into a semi-decent state and then watching dumb cat videos on your phone until you felt like you didn’t want to crawl in a hole and die.

Taliyah had assured you that you didn’t look bad, which you might have believed if you hadn’t seen yourself in the mirror as you were leaving, but at this point you were beyond caring about how you looked right now.

Taliyah had refused to tell you where she was taking you, and so you were forced to follow her down the familiar path towards the beach, unsure of where it was you were being led. Part of you was worried that you might run into Sett, but then the more rational side of you took over; he was likely back at that pool, partying it up with those girls and lamenting that you had run off before he could win his ugly date prize. It was crazy to realize just how flawed your judgment had been.

You had expected to be walking onto the beach, as it was where you two usually spent most of your time, but Taliyah didn’t go to the parking lot, instead heading towards the rockier section of the beach. You hadn’t been over here before, only vaguely aware of the area as a prime fishing location, bait shops and the like lining the street across from this part of the beachfront.

She took you past the fishing spots, down to near the end of the beach, where there was a small pier that went about thirty feet out into the sea. Like most of the beach at this time on a weekday, the pier was empty, most of the fishermen also having headed out with their day’s catches.

Taliyah led you down the pier to the small bench at the end of it, pushing you to sit down. When she didn’t do the same, you looked up at her, confused.

“I’ll be right back,” she said. “I’m gonna go grab something to help cheer you up. You just enjoy the view for a bit.”

You decided to follow her advice, staring out at the water. There wasn’t much to see other than some boats in the far distance and some buoys bobbing in the water that marked the swimming section from the boating section.

It was kind of nice in a way, the calm waters helping you to relax as you watched the waves roll in and out. You stayed like that for a while as you allowed yourself to zone out until you began to wonder how much time had passed. Pulling out your phone, you saw that it had been almost twenty minutes, and yet there was no sign of Taliyah as you looked around.

You had assumed that she went to get you two some food, which likely was still the case. Some of the places here tended to have rather large dinnertime crowds, so a twenty minute plus wait wasn’t exactly unusual. You had no idea where she had gone, so all you could do was wait. If she wasn’t back by seven, you would just text her and ask what was up.

You let yourself be taken in again by the rolling waves as you continued to wait, trying to recall what kinds of restaurants there were on the beachfront. It couldn’t be that fish and chips place; Taliyah had spent a full half hour last week complaining about how stale their food was. Or the taco place, since it had been closed for renovations for the past week. You had been trying to think of a third option when your concentration was broken by someone taking a seat next to you on the bench.

You looked over, expecting to see Taliyah back with some food, but instead nearly jolted off of the bench when next to you was the very man you were out here trying to forget.

Just seeing him when you were feeling so pathetic sent a jolt of you weren’t sure what up your spine, your flight instincts screaming at you as you made to stand up, only to be stopped by a firm grip on your wrist.

“I know you don’t wanna see my face right now,” Sett said. “But I can explain.”

“Explain what?” you replied meekly. “Those girls explained enough.”

“I haven’t,” he insisted. “Just listen for a minute. Then you can leave, or punch me, whatever you want.”

You took a look around, still not seeing Taliyah anywhere. You weren’t sure what he could have to say that would make much of a difference, but you sat back down, and he let go of your wrist.

You turned reluctantly to face Sett, waiting for him to talk first.

“Never told ‘em to do somethin’ like that,” he said gruffly. “Didn’t even know about it ‘til I got there and you weren’t there.”

“But they said…” you started, taking a breath to keep yourself calm as you prepared to recount the hurtful words. “They said you were only spending time with me so you could win their whole ugly date contest.”

Sett’s eyes narrowed, the skin of his knuckles tightening on his curling fists. “First I’ve heard of it. Ain’t no way you’d ever place in an ugly contest anyways.”

His words threw you. “Wait, so you don’t think I’m ugly?”

He snorted, a grin playing at his lips. “Well I was plannin’ on askin’ you to be my girlfriend after the party, so nah, I don’t think you’re ugly.”

“You–” you gasped, pulse skyrocketing. This was not how you expected this conversation to go. You were half convinced you were experiencing auditory hallucinations until Sett reached over, pulling you into his side.

“This is my fault,” he spoke lowly. “If I hadn’t been late, I’d have been there to stop that from happening.”

“What happened when you got there?” you asked quietly.

“Braum told me what happened, then those two tried tellin’ me they did it for my sake,” he growled. “I thought I was used to seein’ through bullies from how I grew up. Doesn’t matter now, they won’t be botherin’ you anymore unless they wanna find out why momma says I got her temper.”

“Why were you late anyways?” you asked.

He groaned, leaning his head back against the bench. Even with the sun mostly set, you could clearly see a pink tone to his cheeks.

“What is it?” you pressed, curious about why the intimidating lifeguard was suddenly being so shy.

He let out a long sigh, finally meeting your eyes. “Ma was doin’ my hair.”

You looked him over, realizing that his hair did seem to be tied differently today. The only thing that looked the same was his ears, just as fluffy as they always looked. You could almost hear Taliyah’s voice screaming in your head to pet them. Speaking of Taliyah…

“Taliyah!” you gasped, trying to extract yourself from Sett’s grip, but failing. If Taliyah was to come and see you here with the guy she had taken you out to forget about… “My friend, she’ll be back any second and–”

Sett laughed, and you were immediately left with the feeling that you were missing something.

“She ain’t comin’ back,” he said amusedly. “I’ve got you all to myself for the night… if that’s what you want.”

“Taliyah set me up?” you breathed, not having suspected a thing.

“I asked her to,” Sett explained. “Wasn’t about to let you go ‘cuz of some shallow assholes.”

Taliyah was much sneakier than you had given her credit for, you realized, but you couldn’t bring yourself to mind right now. Though that didn’t mean you weren’t hungry, your previous stress melting away and removing the only distraction from your empty stomach.

“So,” you hummed. “Are you still going to ask me to be your girlfriend?”

You still had no idea what would happen by the end of the summer, but you really wanted this. You wanted him.

“Yeah, was plannin’ on it.”

 You had thought about it all the way back to Sett’s house. Was it really for the best to go back to your city when the summer was over? Back to your parents’ house to find an equally demanding and unfulfilling job?

The more you thought about it, the more you wanted to stay. Taliyah was here, Sett was here, and other than your brief nasty encounter at the pool earlier, this summer had been the best one you’d had in a long time.

Sett seemed intent on giving you more reasons to stay as he was on you pretty much as soon as you entered his house. You had been standing in the entryway, looking at a picture of what must have been Sett and his mother when he caught you off guard, picking you up from behind.

You yelped, turning your head back to face him just in time for him to dart forward to snatch a kiss.

“You’ll have time to look around later,” he said as he walked down the hall, nudging a door open with his shoulder and then taking you into what looked to be his bedroom.

Once again, you were scarcely granted a look around before Sett had overtaken your attention yet again. You were swiftly carried over and deposited on the bed, Sett eagerly caging your body down against the sheets with his own.

“I wanted to go slow,” he said against your ear. “Didn’t wanna mess things up. But that’s not what you want, is it?”

“No,” you gasped as he snaked a hand under your dress, and then under your swimsuit bottoms. “I… I want…”

“This?” he inquired, thumb brushing against your clit, causing you to jolt against him with a breathy moan. “Waited a long time to hear that.”

Seeking more room to work, Sett pulled back to reach down and pull down your swimsuit bottoms, tossing them to the side. You watched with reddening cheeks as he returned his attention to you, head disappearing under your dress next.

His first lick against your pussy felt back-archingly good, but you didn’t have a lot of room to move with Sett’s hands holding your lower half in place. His tongue felt slightly rough, bringing pricks of pleasure-pain along its path.

Closing your eyes tight, you tried not to squirm, but it was difficult as Sett’s tongue prodded inside you before moving back to sucking at your clit. It felt good, almost too good, but you found yourself wanting more than his mouth against you.

“Sett,” you moaned. “Please…”

You weren’t sure if he got the message until you reached down to grasp at one of his hands. He pulled back from you, wiping one forearm against the wet lower half of his face as he sat back. His position on his knees on the bed allowed you a good look at the decently-sized bulge in the front of his tight swim shorts.

Sett caught your eyes, reaching one hand down to cup his cock through his shorts. “All you, sweetheart. Still think I think you’re ugly?”

You somehow managed to shake your head, speechless from his ardent display of his body. Sett seemed to bask in just how speechless he had made you, a sexy grin overtaking his face as he stared down at you.

“Couldn’t ask for more than this,” he said. “But if you want more…”

He was such a tease. With a burning face, you relented.

“Could you just put it in me please?” you asked, too shy to make eye contact.

“Can do,” he replied, and you could easily hear the smug satisfaction in his voice.

Without a moment’s hesitation, Sett stood up from the bed to pull his shorts off, wincing slightly when he pulled the tight fabric over his painfully-hard cock. Tossing the shorts to the floor, his attention quickly returned to you.

Giving his cock a few slow strokes, he watched you sit up on the bed. Feeling a burst in confidence from his display, you reached down to the hem of your dress’ skirt before pulling it up and off your body, Sett’s hungry gold eyes unable to look away from you as you moved onto your swimsuit top.

Once your top was off, Sett struck, pulling you towards him. Sitting at the edge of the bed, he pulled you onto his lap, reaching around to your front to cup your breasts as his mouth went straight to your neck. His hands were warm against the sensitive skin of your breasts, rolling your nipples under his thumbs as his teeth scraped against a sensitive spot on your neck.

You felt his hard cock under you and shifted yourself against it, Sett letting out a deep groan in response. You could feel how wet you were, but this wasn’t enough. You needed to fuck him, needed this building tension to come to a satisfying end for you both.

You turned in his lap, looping your arms around his neck and leaning down to kiss him. Sett was happy to meet tongues with you, one hand resting on your ass until you pulled back from the kiss.

You met eyes with Sett, who began to help you lift yourself up, lining up his cock with his other hand. When he brought you back down onto him, you both sighed as you were fully seated on his cock at last.

“Nothin’ else would feel as good as you,” Sett groaned as he began to help you move and up and then back down onto him. “Never wanted any girl as bad as I want you.”

You were much less coherent, moaning out his name as your hands grasped against his chest. With a further burst of confidence, you reached a hand up to his ear, running your fingers along the fur and enjoying the resulting groan, the next upward thrust of his hips hitting even better into you. Maybe you would leave this out at Taliyah’s interrogation later.

“There,” you moaned as he shifted you in his lap, his cock hitting even deeper inside you. “Right there, Sett.”

“You’re so tight,” he groaned, pulling you down into a rough kiss as he held you close, thrusting up into you as you eagerly moved along with him, needing to make this gorgeous man under you cum.

Sett came first, stilling for a moment before pulling you slightly back to put a finger to your clit, letting you cling to him as you followed him over the edge.

Once you had both come back down from the clouds, you were set back gently on the bed so Sett could run off to grab a cloth to clean you up with. You watched him leave the room, still having a hard time comprehending just how you had ended up this situation.

You definitely had some phone calls to make tomorrow. Your parents would be surprised, but you would probably focus on the Taliyah part rather than the new boyfriend part of your reasoning. Taliyah would be overjoyed for sure; you’d have to thank her for her meddling when you saw her.

As Sett returned, you realized something.

“Wait, is your mom home?” you asked in horror. You hadn’t made any effort to be quiet during sex, forgetting about his mother until he re-entered the room.

Sett laughed at your mortified face. “I don’t live with ma, so no.”

“Oh god,” you breathed in relief. “I was worried I was too…”

“She ain’t here,” he replied as he joined you on the bed, handing you the cloth he had grabbed. “You can be as loud as you want.”

You dropped the cloth, burying your head in your hands, Sett’s amused laughter ringing in your ears as you tried to content with just what you had signed yourself up for.

[cuttoothed]

A little fic for @jonsimsandcats and also inspired by some adorable art on discord! Featuring notes on kitten rearing, and of course some Jmart because it’s me.

Jon works at the Institute here, but a non-spooky version of it!

*

Martin is doing a final check on the fish tanks when he hears the bell above the front door jingle. He sighs; he knew he should have locked up first. Just his luck.

“This is your fault,” he tells the angelfish balefully. They don’t seem contrite, too busy nosing in the fine gravel for any food they’ve missed. Martin walks out to the front of the shop, preparing his best customer service smile to tell whoever’s come in at—he glances at his watch—three minutes past eight that they’re closed, and no, they can’t just wander around for a few minutes to look at the animals. Honestly, some people seem to think there’s no difference between a pet shop and an art gallery.

There’s a man standing at the front counter, looking around anxiously, a bundled up jumper clutched against his chest.

“Sorry, we’re—” Martin begins, and that’s as far as he gets before the man unleashes a frantic tirade.

“Please!” the man says, “I need your help, I-I’m not sure they’re breathing and they were out there for hours on their own, I know you’re not supposed to move them in case their mother comes back but I couldn’t just—just leave knowing they were still there, and all the vet offices nearby are closed, this was the only place I could think of!”

The man is wild eyed, almost panicked, and Martin lifts both hands in an appeasing gesture.

“Woah,” he says, “Uh, maybe start from the beginning again? Slowly?”

“Right, ah, sorry. Sorry. I spotted them this morning, under a bush just outside my work.” The man sets the bundle of jumper down on the counter, and unfolds it to reveal two tiny scraps of fur: one gray, one black. Kittens, Martin realizes, so small they can only be a week or so old; certainly not old enough to be without their mother.

“I left them alone, because I’ve heard that the mother usually comes back after a little while. A-and I meant to go and check on them again during the day, make sure.” The man sounds anguished now, his face miserable. “But I—I got caught up in work, forgot about it. It was only when I was leaving that I remembered. And they were still there, on their own. Barely moving. Please—is there anything we can do?”

Martin looks down at the tiny creatures in their nest of wool; he can just about see the shallow in-out of their breathing. All day outside alone, at their age, the odds aren’t great. But he’s met enough kittens to know that they’re shockingly resilient little sods, and he’s never given up on a so-called hopeless case before. He’s not about to start now.

“You did the right thing moving them,” he assures the man, moving to flip the sign on the door to CLOSED. “We need to get them warmed up and get some food into them. Body heat is the best thing for them right now—can you start warming them with your hands?”

“Oh—ah, yes,” says the man, turning to his bundle of jumper with a worried frown. Martin leaves him there while he rushes around the shop, grabbing kitten milk replacer and nursing bottles, and then into the back to heat two mugs of water in the microwave while he makes up the bottles. He pops them into the mugs to warm, and brings the whole lot out to the front. The man now has a kitten in each hand, and is holding them pressed carefully to his chest for additional warmth; his expression is still worried, but also desperately tender, and Martin feels a pang of something behind his ribs at the sight.

“One of them is moving,” the man says eagerly as Martin sets the bottles down. Martin can see the gray kitten wriggling weakly in the man’s grip, responding to the heat. Its sibling is still motionless, and Martin’s heart sinks a little.

“That’s great,” he says. “Hold onto her for another minute, and let me see if I can get her sister moving too.”

He holds out a hand, and the man almost reluctantly passes him the black kitten. Martin doesn’t try to notice that the man has lovely hands, with long, slim fingers, narrow wrist jutting out of his shirt sleeve, but, well, he notices a bit. He turns his attention to the kitten; he can’t make out the motion of its breathing anymore. He takes it in both hands and starts to massage it gently. It lies limp in his palms, head lolling, and Martin starts to feel despair crawling cold up his spine.

“Come on, sweetheart,” he murmurs, “You can do it.” The man is watching him anxiously, the gray kitten cradled against his chest, and Martin knows he can’t give up. He keeps rubbing the kitten’s small body, trying to will warmth and life back into the tiny, fragile form. At last, after what seems like an eternity, the kitten squirms in his hands and a faint, plaintive mew escapes it. An answering mew comes from the gray kitten, and Martin laughs, relief washing over him.

“Right, let’s see if we can get them to eat.”

After checking that they’re not too chilled to feed, Martin tests each of the kittens with a drop of formula on their tongue; thankfully they both seem able to swallow without difficulty. He shows the man how to feed the gray kitten, holding its body in a neutral position with the bottle tilted for a gentle flow. It doesn’t take long for the kittens to figure out the process, and Martin can feel the tug on the bottle as his kitten begins to suckle.

“Oh,” he hears softly from beside him, and turns to see the man gazing in delight at the gray kitten, whose tiny, unfurled ears are twitching as it sucks.

“She’s doing great,” Martin comments. “Good job.” The man gives him a tentative, pleased smile, and Martin still isn’t trying to notice but it’s a very nice smile. “I’m Martin, by the way.”

“Jonathan Sims—Jon,” says the man, and then gives a small, tense laugh. “God, I haven’t even apologized for storming in here while you were clearly trying to close up for the night.”

“That’s all right, I didn’t have any exciting plans tonight anyway. I’d much rather be spending time with these little beauties.”

Jon smiles again, more sure this time, and all right, maybe Martin deliberately notices the dimple in his right cheek. Just a bit.

Once the kittens are fed, Martin shows Jon how to stimulate them; both of them only pee a little—poor things are dehydrated—but it’s a good sign. They clean them up and tuck them back into the nest of Jon’s jumper, where they curl up into a small puddle of black and gray. Jon gives a sigh that’s somewhere between relieved and exhausted.

“Thank you,” he says. “I, ah, I think I forgot to say that as well. You know a lot about this.”

“I volunteer at a shelter, there are a lot of kittens. If you like, I can take them for tonight and bring them in tomorrow?”

“Ah,” says Jon. “Do you think that’s—I mean...I-I’m not sure I’d feel right, handing them off to someone else. Not that I think you’re not capable!” he rushes to add, and Martin finds himself smiling.

“No, I get it. You found them, you want to take care of them. I’ll warn you, though, it’s a big commitment. For the first couple of weeks you have to feed them every two hours, even during the night, and then it’s every three or four hours until they start weaning. It’s like having a newborn baby.”

“I don’t get much sleep generally,” says Jon. “At least this way I’ll have something to do while I’m up all night. And my work is—well, I’ll explain the situation.”

He looks set on it, brow furrowed with determination. Martin considers arguing more: that a shelter will be better equipped to care for the kittens, that there’s no guarantee they’ll survive in any case, that Jon doesn’t know what he’s signing up for. But the shelters are always crowded, and kittens this young have simple needs, and really, a dedicated foster parent—armed with the right knowledge—is probably the best thing for them.

“Right,” he says, “Let’s make sure these two are well wrapped up before you take them home.”

He scrounges a cardboard box from the back and they settle the kittens into it, still wrapped in Jon’s jumper along with a soft fleece blanket printed with cartoon fish. Martin gathers a couple of cartons of liquid formula and extra bottles to get them started, and shows Jon how to pierce the nipple so the flow isn’t too strong.

“It should be warmed to body temperature,” he explains, “But not directly in the microwave—put the bottles in heated water, like I did earlier. Do you have a hot water bottle?”

“Yes, I do,” says Jon, frowning intently as he listens. Martin nods.

“It’s better than a heating pad at this age, they’re less likely to get overheated. Don’t make it too hot—body temperature, again—and wrap it in a blanket so they’re not touching it directly.”

“Got it,” says Jon firmly, and Martin believes him. He bags up the formula and bottles and an extra pet blanket, and presses them into the hands of a startled Jon; the till is shut off for the night, but Martin can explain and pay for the items tomorrow.

“What’s your phone number?” he asks, and Jon looks even more startled.

“S-sorry?”

“Or your email. I’m going to send you some links—videos, a couple of good blogs that should be helpful.”

“Oh, ah, right. Of course.” Jon recites his number and Martin saves it under “Jon (Kittens).” He peeks into the box one last time before Jon scoops it up, and sees the kittens snuggled in the folds of the jumper, paws waving in little kitten dreams.

“Thank you again, Martin,” says Jon. “I honestly don’t know what I would have done without you tonight.” His tone is shy but genuine, and it sends warmth through Martin’s chest and up into his cheeks.

“Any time,” Martin says. “And feel free to text me if you need anything—if you have a question or...anything. Or call me if you like.” He’s aware he’s rambling a bit, but it’s not every day an attractive man says that he doesn’t know what he would have done without you, so he can hardly be blamed.

“I will,” says Jon solemnly.

*

He doesn’t text Martin any questions that night, but when Martin sends him the links to a youtube channel and three blog posts on kitten care, he replies:

Thank you :)

Martin spends most of the rest of the night wondering what that smiley face means.

*

He doesn’t necessarily expect to see Jon again, and certainly doesn’t expect to see him the very next day. But just before one o’clock in the afternoon the bell above the door jingles and there’s Jon, looking tired and more than a bit sheepish.

“I got all the way into work this morning before I realized I’d never paid for any of the things you gave me,” he says, reaching for his wallet.

“Those were gifts,” Martin tells him firmly. “Sort of a “welcome to foster parenthood” care basket?”

“No, I couldn’t let you—” Jon starts to protest, but Martin shakes his head emphatically.

“It’s no big deal, honestly. I get an employee discount anyway.”

“I...well, then I suppose I need to thank you yet again,” says Jon.

“It’s becoming a bit of a habit,” Martin jokes, grinning, and Jon smiles in return. He hesitates a moment before continuing:

“Maybe I could buy you lunch instead, then? To pay you back.”

“There’s no need, honestly,” says Martin, even as his brain berates him: What are you doing, idiot, he’s asking you to have lunch with him? Say yes!

“Please, I’d like to,” Jon says, and then gives a thoughtful frown. “Only if you want to, of course, don’t feel obligated—”

“I’m on lunch in five minutes,” Martin blurts out before he can overthink it.

“Great!” says Jon, sounding pleased. “If you have time, we could go by my office as well and visit the kittens. I just fed them before I came to see you.”

Before I came to see you, not before I came to pay you back, and Martin feels that warmth crawling up towards his cheeks again. Even if Jon’s intentions are purely friendly rather than...anything else, well, Martin could always use more friends.

“How were they last night?” he asks, and the smile that spreads across Jon’s face this time is pure delight.

“Oh I barely got an hour’s sleep,” he says, waving a hand. “And today they’re sitting under my desk reminding me every couple of hours that they need attention and that they are far more important than whatever I’m working on. They’re perfect.”

“Sounds like cat parenthood suits you,” Martin teases gently, and Jon laughs.

“I think it rather does.”

*

Lunch is...nice, and only slightly awkward in the “getting to know a new person” sort of way. Jon is serious, but also funny in an understated, acerbic way, and there’s a gentleness to him that wouldn’t be immediately apparent, if Martin hadn’t seen him cradling two tiny, fragile lives to his chest last night. He’s the kind of person Martin would like to know better, he thinks.

Afterwards they go to Jon’s workplace, which is extremely academic with a brass nameplate by the door and everything, and down to the basement office where Jon works; Martin doesn’t really know what archiving entails, but it looks like mostly a bloody great pile of paperwork. Jon’s two colleagues give Martin friendly and extremely curious glances as they pass; Jon pointedly ignores them in favor of directing Martin to his desk and the cardboard box sitting beneath it.

When Martin glances inside, the two kittens are curled up in the folds of the fish-print blanket, lying against the shape of what he assumes is the hot water bottle. Their bellies already look rounder than they were last night, thanks to regular feeding, and their limbs twitch as they sleep.

“I’ll take them to the vet for a check up after work,” Jon murmurs quietly, gazing down at them with a soft expression. Martin recognizes that look of adoration, and he knows this pair won’t be going to a shelter or anywhere else; they’ve found their home with Jon.

“They’re lucky you found them,” he says, and Jon smiles self-consciously.

“I think I’m the one who was lucky,” he says.

They spend a bit more time with the kittens, and then Martin realizes that it’s about time he got back to work if he doesn’t want to get in trouble. He excuses himself, waving goodbye to Jon’s still curious colleagues, and Jon walks him out to the grand front entrance of the building.

“Thanks again for lunch,” he says. “And—you have my number, right? The offer is open, if you need anything, just text me.”

“I will,” says Jon. “And, ah, let me know if you’d like to come and see the kittens again. Any day. Well, most days,” he corrects himself. “We could, ah, maybe have lunch again?”

“That sounds...really nice,” says Martin. Jon smiles, pleased, and Martin isn’t trying to notice the faint flush that spreads across his face, but it’s very cute anyway.

*

As he walks back to work, Martin’s phone vibrates with a text. It’s a picture of the kittens, curled up on top of each other, with the message:

Come back and see us soon!

Martin grins; the kittens, he thinks, weren’t the only ones lucky to be found last night.

[olderjodijournals]

Tuesday, December 1, 1998

 

Spot died. The one with the tumor. I put her in one of the coffee cans I saved. She was lying at the bottom of the 3-story house they have in the big aquarium. Now I only have 7 mice. Too few.

I made a pets file in the cardfile thing. I’ve got two index cards so far. One for dates animals were bought or born. One for when they died. Spot’s birth/death dates are 11/13/1997-12/1/1998.

I called Andy to see if he wanted to talk and he said he’ll call me around 10:00.

I’m recording some Christmas music now. The DTV has a station that plays Christmas music and it’s commercial-free.

I’m now reading Smoke by Ruby Jean Jensen.

I realized something last night. It’s been a while since I had those constant dizzy spells I’d get.

Tom said he heard a medical report saying there was no connection between smokers and thinness. That’s not what I’ve heard, but that’s cool to know. I think most women are fat cuz most women have kids, and I think most guys are fat cuz most guys eat like pigs.

I printed out November’s journal and used Gloria’s pictures bordering the tops of the pages. It looks good. I printed out Gloria’s and Norah’s pictures for borders, and at some point, I’ll do family pictures, and maybe my journals too.

It didn’t rain today as they predicted, so Tom did some roofing. About two-thirds of it is done.

Later…

If Andy calls on time, and I’m sure he will, I’m gonna have to listen to him go on and on for two grueling hours. Why’s he gotta take so long to tell me about himself when he has no life to begin with, as even he admits?

Friday, December 4, 1998

 

Yes, I’m 33 today. Anyway, it’s about time I do some writing.

Yesterday, we planned to have me stay up as long as I could. Without Benadryl that was no problem. I was up 19-20 hours before I fell asleep but get this - I slept through his nail gun all day! I’ve come a long way since those mad butches and project animals. He finished at 4:00 and at 6:00 I woke up. I was still tired, but couldn’t go back to sleep, so I took a Benadryl and slept till just after midnight. Guess I was beat!

Tom wished me a happy birthday when I got up, and if you think I’m gonna spend my birthday worrying about dieting - think again! So I had him pick me up some stuff from Jack-n-the-Box and he got some stuff too.

I noticed an envelope on top of the scanner where Tom places my mail when he gets it and thought, oh no! The handwriting looked like Dureen’s, but it was a nice card from Evie.

Fortunately, I have no vibes of any assholes trying to contact me, but if they did, it’d only be cuz they were trying to win me over so they could fuck me over yet again. It’s not gonna happen for the millionth time, of course, cuz any calls that may come in will be ignored. An hour later, he went to work. He had gotten the night off, but as the bank usually does, they fuck his schedule over and push overtime on him, so he had to go in tonight. That’s OK, though. Gives me a chance to catch up on my writing.

When I came in here, there was a message on my wallpaper from Tom. On a pink background with some cactuses and balloons, he wrote: Happy Birthday Jodi Lin.

Then I went to check my email and got 4 messages from Evie. You heard right - 4 messages. One seemed to be blank, but the others were saying a little bit about what was going on with her and how she was thinking of me on my birthday, and the last one was great. I told her I prefer dirty jokes. It just seems that the raunchier they are, the funnier. So she sent me this thing that had a list of things about Thanksgiving that sounded dirty, but weren’t, like, what a huge breast! And it must be broken cuz every time I squeeze the tip, nothing comes out.

My period’s starting. At least it seems to be starting again. Still, I’m gonna go ahead and call to set up a time for the uterus scan.

Yesterday, I finished the huge task of taking out all our pictures and reorganizing the photo albums. It helped me to push my schedule by keeping super busy, but it sure was a big job! It was fun and worth it, too.

I forgot to mention something about Melanie that I noticed, and thought was a bit odd. I noticed she had a thin gold wedding band on her thumb. There were no rings on any other fingers. I had thought, though, that I saw some sort of diamond on her ring finger when we first met. Could she be getting a divorce? I hope not for her sake, cuz I want her to be happy.

El cocko’s been taking its bitch back at the end of the day, but the thing that worries me is all the time he’s taking to do so. He was here for an hour and a half the other day and this worries me. He didn’t take an hour and a half to see the mistake. This I know. No guy like the scum he is would do that so that only leaves one other probable thing and I don’t like it. This cock is trying to get on her good side and weasel back in here. Then when it comes in here, things will be OK in the beginning, except for its constant door slamming, and then the music will start back up. Uh-uh. Ain’t gonna happen, Mikey! You come back, you’ll be bounced right back out!

I’d love to really do some detective work and follow her someday. Not just to see where she goes out of curiosity, but to really freak her out even more when she reads that I know where she goes. It’ll be one thing to read that I’ve got her unlisted phone number, and her account number as far as her housing goes, among a few other things, but something like this should really give her the creeps.

For my birthday, Tom ordered me Sunshine and Lollipops. She was ordered on the 2nd.

I called to ask about Patrice, whom I was last told would be shipped on 12/12, but she left on 11/18 and is on her way! It takes 10-15 business days for dolls to go from the company to the people, so I’d say she’ll be here sometime next week.

If Tom’s mom remembers or even cares, to tell you the truth, to send me $33, I’ll get Edie from the doll store.

Sometime next week, Tom wants to take me to pick out some baby mice! I like the new idea better than the old one. Originally, we were gonna get a male mouse to impregnate all my female mice, but instead, we’re gonna get a few pregnant females. As we well know, all you need is 3 pregnant females to give you more than you need as far as increasing the population goes. Better to get a few young pregnant ones than to impregnate the 7 I’ve got and put these old mice through the hassles of that.

Later…

Andy had me on the phone for quite a while a couple of days ago, but I managed to get out of it just over an hour into the conversation. The sad thing about it was, was that the whole time we talked, he didn’t tell me anything new except for the good news that his AIDS test was negative and that he hated the L.A. traffic.

He was totally stoned. Not able to understand much of what I was saying, not letting me get a word in edgewise too well, and just going on and on and on about the same old goddamn, boring things. Aaaaaarrrgggggghhhhhhhh!

I reminded myself of how I used to love hearing from him and I felt a twinge of guilt for finding him so annoying, but I can’t help it. I’ve changed and he hasn’t. I just don’t find Andy of interest to me anymore. No, I won’t dump him, cuz he hasn’t harmed me. I want to be there for him whenever possible, I want him to have love with David or with someone, but I just wish he’d hurry up and get the fuck back east! I still doubt it’s gonna happen, and he’s changed his plan once again. He’s not going in May with his aunt and uncle. But before I could get the chance to ask why he told me he was gonna drive back in April. I don’t know if he’ll go, but I’d rather type him letters than listen to him babble about the usual once or twice a week for an hour, then be too much of a stoned airhead to remember anything he told me or that I told him. The question is, though, will he remember the things I write to him? He told me that he remembers reading the encouraging letter I just sent him and that he was touched by it, but can’t remember a damn thing I said. That’s sad. He also says he couldn’t remember that Michelle just turned 24. He thought she was gonna be 25. He guessed me to be turning 34. He said his memory problem couldn’t be all pot-related and I told him to go see a doctor, but I think it is all pot-related.

No one likes to be miserable. I know. I’ve been there. And I’d have done something about it the very first day I felt miserable if I could’ve, but a part of me wonders about Andy. Does he really care that he’s the way he is? I know he wants to be loved, and I believe he’d stay sober forever if he could, but does he really give a shit about working and other things? Are the phone and TV his only interests? I asked him if he felt he could want to get fired deep down, but he said no way, it’s such an awful thing to have to go through, and he didn’t see how I could think that he’d want to get fired as much as he does, but I don’t know. A part of me thinks he not only sets himself up to be fired out of fear, but so that he can have more time to be home watching TV, listening to Stevie Nicks, and gabbing on the phone for hours on end with a joint between his lips. I can kind of understand and relate to the wanting to be home more often. We’re both homebodies and if I were working full-time, I’d wish I could be home enjoying my stuff and doing the things I enjoy too, as Tom pointed out.

He also admits he eats like a pig when he can, yet he’s so big on people looking thin and young.

All he told me about L.A. was how shitty the traffic was and how gloomy he found L.A. to be.

Meanwhile, he says he’s gonna be calling temp agencies to see what’s available. So I guess he’ll stay with Red Lobster till they fire him, then work for another temp agency for a week or two.

Then he’s so negative about us moving, saying that there’s pollution outside the valley too, and more spiders, and shit like that. Why does he always find negative things to say about the things people look forward to doing/having, etc.?

Later…

The voice messaging thing for my pap results still hasn’t gotten my results. It’s still a little soon, though. If I don’t get my results by Monday, I’ll call the office. At least I can rest assured that there was nothing wrong. If there was something wrong, I’d have been contacted by now.

I had a burger, some fries, and a slice of cheesecake, and now, it’s popcorn time!

Later…

I know my doll won’t come today even though it could, technically. I’ll be home and awake at mail time.

It’s freezing out there now! The cool thing about being in the desert, though, is that in just a few hours it’ll be warm.

The cock was here picking its bitch up. The bitch has three different people that I know of to give her rides to and from work if she needs it. Three people! I couldn’t have gotten me one person, let alone three if I had been in her shoes years ago! Yes, she’s got three people between her cock, the tall thing in the light blue car that I think is her sister, and Bill.

I’ve been taping Christmas music, but so far, I could only get one good song. At one point, when I was scanning through a tape, I heard rap music. Some freeloaders got together and put out a Christmas song with a rap beat. Typical, typical freeloaders. They gotta do everything in such set ways. Everything to them is rap, drugs, violence, laziness, and church. They don’t know anything else. Most of them have no education whatsoever.

And a part of me still wishes I didn’t let her get a word out of her black mouth when it came yelling at my door last year. I should’ve just beat the fuck out of her right then and there before she could even utter a word, and how embarrassed I am for myself for writing that I hope her taking her tizzy fit makes her feel better. Like I really give a shit how that sick fuck feels? Yeah, right!

Later…

Damn! I gained 4 pounds today. All that just for taking one day off from eating so little? God, my metabolism’s so slow! I could eat my way back up to the mid-120s in less than a week.

Later…

Two days in a row there was a hang-up message from an unavailable source. These sales freaks almost never leave messages and it’s highly unusual to get hang-ups two days in a row. So let me guess - a certain bastard left these hang-ups from a place cross country from his trucking company?

I was right. No doll today. Could be tomorrow, but more likely, it’ll come Monday while we’re at Melanie’s.

I fell asleep about 4 hours earlier and woke up when Tom came home. After having one of his cakes he got, I fell back asleep till he went up on the roof.

Tom just left to get me some Chinese food and to get him something from Arby’s.

Got a nice card with teddy bears from Mom with a $33 check. I asked Tom about going to the doll store today and he said we could go if I really had to, but would rather work on the roof. So, we’ll go get the doll sometime next week, along with the mice.

Saturday, December 5, 1998

 

Once again, I fell asleep to the sound of his nail gun and I got up at 9 PM.

Fortunately, there were no unwanted calls/messages for me. There was a message from Tammy and Andy. I returned Andy’s message and will call Tammy tomorrow. Her message was sweet and sincere, but I got a kick out of how she lied about trying to call me several times. Not according to the Caller ID box. She also said she was calling from Mark’s. Then why did her number show up? God, that lying sister of mine! I still appreciated her message very much, though, and I know she means well.

I told Tom I wouldn’t even let Doe, Art, or Larry get the chance to leave a message if I saw their number show up. I’d pick the phone up and hang right back up on them. He said that wouldn’t be very smart, cuz what if someone was sick? So what? I said. Then he said that he’s not saying this will happen in the near future, but they know how much I like Goldie and Al. Yeah, so? That doesn’t mean they’d call to tell me they were sick if they were sick. Unless Tammy’s dumb enough to associate with them again and therefore tells me when they die, I know I can figure that in 10-15 years they’ll be gone. He said that’s not the way it works. Well, that’s the way it works with my family. Art wouldn’t call me if Dureen died. Larry wouldn’t call me if Sandy or Jen died.

I figured I’d gain the most I’d ever gained before in one day, but I only gained 4 pounds. I got up to 116 pounds. Tom said I’d wake up at 114 pounds. I figured that after diving into that Chinese food I’d hit 118, so I told him I’d wake up at 116. We were both wrong. I amazingly got up at 113. I’m really 4 more pounds than I say I am cuz house scales are always 4 pounds less than doctor’s scales and I’d think the doctor’s scales would be more accurate. So when I’m 113, I’m really 117. And when I’m really 117, I look 127!

Tom said that if I think the bangers that bang by are bad, I should hear what it’s like up on the roof. Lately, our local bangers haven’t been too bad. Just like with sales calls, they escalate, then they slack off, and back and forth. Up on the roof, you can hear everything, since it’s above any walls and the sound can just go right through. He said they banged by constantly, but most of them were miles away. I believe it. Give it another 10-20 years and you’ll be able to go up on your roof and hear stereos in California, that’s how desperate and lonely this society has become.

I was laughing to myself over that bitch and her trying to haul my ass into court. Here I say how courts don’t work and all that, yet in a sense, it did work for her. Ever since she tried having me served, I haven’t sent any wacky or hateful mail and there’s been no bottle tossing. In fact, this is the longest stretch of time where they haven’t forced me into doing something to them cuz of their shit. So in the end, and as of yet, we both got what we wanted - to not be bothered by one another.

Speaking of them bothering me, I don’t have a bad vibe for this weekend, but I’ll bet you anything that they’ll use the mistake’s birthday party as an excuse to be heard back after all that roofing noise. Again, not cuz noise bothers them, but just because it’s coming from over here. Even if we weren’t roofing, every so often there’ll be a bit of a ruckus from over there, like I said. Gotta remind me that they’re there. Gotta rebel a little. rolls eyes

I didn’t call the uterus people today, cuz those two spots were all I had. When the fuck is it ever gonna start? It’s like it gets wimpier and wimpier each month. Maybe the exam confused it. It seems I bled the most I’ve ever bled at one of these exams the last time, so maybe the exam threw it off. Oh well. It’s gotta start sooner or later.

As far as I know, we’re going to the doll store today at 10:00 when they open. I’ll have to remember to check out their collector’s Barbie dolls this time. I’m curious to compare their prices to the Barbie doll I saw for $17 in a drugstore. I wonder if they’ll have those 36” dolls he said they were getting for just $300?

I also wonder if Patrice will come today, although I think Monday or Tuesday is more likely. It’s just that Summer Dream was delivered on a Saturday.

Monday, December 7, 1998

 

It was a dead quiet weekend. No door slamming, no kids, even less barking. That’s because it was such an unusual Sunday full of nothing but rain. It could only rain on a Sunday afternoon cuz of Tom’s trying to finish that fucking roof! If he hadn’t been roofing, it would’ve been bright and sunny. Of course, God will make sure next weekend’s weather is just beautiful for the little animal’s birthday party.

Just when I think I’ve finally played Leak and Bucket for the last time, I have to do it all over again. A part of me wonders if this will ever end! I told myself the other day that once the roof was fixed, I’d never again take for granted having a solid roof over my head, but now I wonder if I’ll be paranoid for the next 5 years whenever it rains. The good and shocking part of it is that it didn’t leak in here. Water did drip through the unfinished parts of the roof into the attic where there were little tears in the tarp, but Tom went up and put buckets under those drips. The only new thing that appeared was a little strip of what looked to be a water stain seeping through a crack in the plaster in the living room. Tom, though, said he couldn’t find any moisture up in the attic and said that there was less than a teaspoon in each bucket he put up there. Not enough to cause that line, so was the line always there, and did I, who’s usually so observant, miss it?

I don’t know if I forgot to write this, but Tom buried Spot in one of Bunny’s old holes that needed to be filled in any way.

Backing up to Saturday. Saturday was cool and breezy too, but not like Sunday. Sunday was cold! You could see your breath in the air. Saturday posed a threat of rain too, and Tom didn’t exactly feel comfortable exposing the roof to work on it when it could’ve started raining. So we went way out of town to a hardware store just to waste our time. He was looking for some part for his nail gun, but the stupid male prick that worked there didn’t know shit. He was obviously having some problems with his son too, who kept calling him. The guy told his son that if he called one more time he wouldn’t be able to sit. So I joked with Tom about calling the store to ask if his son could still sit.

I wasn’t kidding when I said that something up there really wants to make it hard for me to get dolls. I really have to pay and go through a lot to get them. We were heading to the doll store since they’re closed on Sundays and Mondays, and oh my God! Phoenix is notorious for its constant construction that’s everywhere and I’m sooo fucking sick of it! We got held up in traffic for quite a while cuz they closed a part of the freeway. It felt like it took us 4 hours just to get to this goddamn store.

Both the Edie dolls were still there, but I was wrong about her price. I thought she was $30, but she was $40 just like Anne, and Tom said that was fine. They’re both Seymour Mann dolls. For the most part, the dolls in this store were boring. There was a doll that was rather unique and odd-looking, though. I wouldn’t want her, but she was cool to see for the sake of something different. It was just your typical doll with regular arms, legs, mouth, hair, etc., but she had lavender eyes!

That nice guy that works there whose name is Mark, so I heard, told me that it usually takes 7 weeks to make two dolls. I didn’t know the people in the classes got to make two. He said, though, that since it can get pretty addicting, some ladies have been with them for years. So I guess you can do all you pay for.

The Barbie dolls were about $20-$40. Most of them wore gorgeous dresses. That’s the problem - the really small dolls get the nice outfits, and the bigger dolls that I like get the outfits that aren’t as nice. Part of it is the difference between porcelain and Barbies. The Barbie doll’s bodies are whole bodies, but the porcelain ones have no bodies. The trunks of their bodies are just stuffing. There was, however, a porcelain doll that had most of her body, cuz she was a woman doll and she wore a gorgeous dress that didn’t cover as much as the girl’s dresses usually do. The dresses that go on the girl dolls aren’t as nice, of course, as the dresses that the women dolls get. There were some pretty fancy dresses on a few porcelain women dolls. One was dressed as a Vegas showgirl. One had such a fancy dress of such nice material and of jewels that she was $1000! I guess this is a new string of dolls, cuz I don’t remember seeing them before. Their faces and hair were boring, though, and they were all the same. Only the outfits were different.

Anyway, I’m hoping to get this gorgeous doll I saw with any Christmas money I get. She was beautiful! An angel doll of some sort with purple wings, a nice lavender dress, really long blond hair, and an elegant and graceful pose. She’s a shorter doll like Jessica and Sunshine and Lollipops at about 14”. Her face was nice, too. Just like Summer Dream, her head is turned to one side. The opposite side of Summer Dream’s, which means she’ll go perfectly where I plan on putting her.

After this fucking roof is finally done, I’m going to move my computer back into the back room. Not just so we can network our computers again, but so I can put the red table that was in the living room back in there. I’m gonna keep Summer Dream in the music room and I’ll probably keep Jessica in there, too. Bailey and Rapunzel will go back on the living room speaker and TV. On the red table, I was going to line up Edie, Anne, Sunshine and Lollipops, Patrice, and Angel.

Tom believed Patrice would come that day, too (Saturday). I thought there was a chance of it since I seem to be getting dolls in twos lately, but nope. I gotta be either asleep or out when dolls come, but Tom says today’s an unlikely day for a parcel post delivery to be made. If it were first class, that’d be different.

Ashton Drake sent us what was supposed to be a mini magnetic dry-erase board, but not quite. You have to wet a cloth to erase the writing.

All I saw at the freeloader’s all weekend was a white car with a rack of some sort on its trunk. I went into the music room and heard a beat going and was like, shit! I knew it was just a matter of time before we’d hear from them, but I didn’t have a vibe about this weekend. I expected a ruckus next weekend. Then I realized it was the heartbeat I switched to in place of the stereo. Since this fan is softer than the last one, the heartbeat on my sound spa can be heard, and I like it so much better than the stereo cuz this beat is steady.

I got rid of “Mystery’s world” on the computer since the whole computer is my world now. I put the stuff that was in Mystery’s world into the start/program area.

I also paired up some journal pictures. That birthday wallpaper message turned out to be quite a present. I didn’t know this, but in the WinDraw program I use a lot, you can select a screen size background and make what you want on it. I made two collages of my favorite Gloria pictures and one of Norah’s. Then I paired up some of my journal covers to lessen the number of files I have. After I touch those up a bit, I’ll pair some family pictures.

Andy, who just has to do the opposite of what you ask him and who doesn’t always give a shit about what you’d prefer, just couldn’t wait till we talked live to tell me the rain he was driving through was mixed with snow. Yeah, it snowed in Vegas. Meanwhile, in New England, they’re having this unbelievably mild weather. They were even in the 70s! The 70s in November!! That’s quite a record.

Kim also called and is all moved into her apartment in Northampton with Walter. They’re in a two-family house. They have the top two floors. She’s got big rooms with hardwood floors. It’s a two-bedroom apartment and it’s $900 a month! Jesus! That’s the northeast for you. Especially Northampton.

Anyway, I guess Walt’s conveniently decided he wants kids. They’re gonna get married and be trying for a kid over the next year or so. I just hope Kim doesn’t get burned by him not doing his part in making the kid or by him leaving when the kid’s born if it’s born. That’s what I wonder. Would God give such a wonderful person whom I know would make a great mom a kid? She has the looks for it, that’s for sure. I hope she gets what she wants, though.

I called Tammy back Saturday morning. Mark and she are remodeling the hell out of her place. She was really nice in asking how my birthday went and she was happy about what I got/am getting, even though it’s not what she’d want. She’s gotten better at listening to me about my interests, whereas in the past she didn’t really care unless it was something she could relate to.

I spoke to Lisa too, and as usual, she’s not doing very well. She’s happy she’s lost weight. She’s gone from 152 pounds to 120 pounds, but now she’s into pot and acid. Great! Just fucking great! I’m glad I’m not destined to have a kid.

It’s almost scary to see how closely her life is like mine was, although I didn’t get into acid. I try not to compare us, but it’s something you can’t miss. Like I said, the only thing that’s different is her seeming to be as straight as an arrow so far anyway, and her interest in meteorology. Makes me wonder if she’s sterile and if she too, will go through years of depression over not being able to have a kid. I hope I’m wrong, and if not, I hope she doesn’t want one anyway, and therefore, doesn’t mind sterility. I don’t know about her or Sarah having kids, but I’ll bet you all my journals that Becky will be a mom someday. She already looks like a mom. She’s got God’s qualifications on that one totally. It’s like God has a fixation with homelier and plain-looking ladies becoming mothers. There are a few good-looking mothers, but they’re one in every 10,000.

She swears she hasn’t talked to Larry in over a month, but you know I can’t trust one thing she says anymore.

I still can’t call for the uterus test since I’m still only spotting. I wish my fucking rag would hurry up and start!

I fear my pap was too bloody to read and that’s why there are still no results posted for me on that voice messaging thing. If so, that’ll really piss me the fuck off, cuz this is why I went straight to a GYN in the first place, and I told her so. The whole idea was to avoid having to play the repeat pap game.

I’m hurt and angry with Tom right now, but not as hurt and as angry as I should be. Perhaps the reasons I’m not more hurt and angry are cuz I don’t want a child and cuz this is nothing new. It’s not like I just found out how abnormal our sex is and that he’s lied about sex and having a kid. I should’ve known that he’d eventually resort to bold lying and say he’s been cumming regularly when that’s pure bullshit. A lot of people are like him - they just deny what they want. So long as it can only be suspected and not literally proven in the way that you can prove it’s either light outside or dark.

Kim once told me she couldn’t tell if a guy came in here, but what Tammy told me is what I’m sure most women would tell me - that they can tell when their man cums. They ask rape victims if their attacker came. Why would they ask that unless they knew she could tell? There’s always been a distinct difference to me when Tom’s cum. When he cums, the sheets under my ass are soaked and so are my inner thighs. It feels as if I wet the bed when he cums. When he doesn’t, I don’t feel any different. Yet he has the bold nerve to tell me he cums 7-8 out of 10 times.

So I was right, after all, about how this infertility thing would play out. He probably figured I’d be fixable and that I’d let them fix me and leave getting pregnant up to God. Then he’d let them have his cum for testing which he has full control over, then he’d just come home and make sure he very rarely cums with me and that if he did cum, it was at a safe time. As to why I never would’ve ended up pregnant? Just because, he’d say. Just because that happens sometimes for no apparent reason. The doctor, he knows, would support this too. So that way he could’ve escaped having to deal with why he’s too afraid to cum, and why I didn’t get pregnant.

The man just doesn’t want to cum. Period. He told me he was gonna tell me from now on whether or not he cums, cuz he’s sick of how I “test” him (by his not correcting my comments about how he cums regularly, when we know damn well he doesn’t). I told him that that’s up to him. It’s not if he cums that I care about. It’s if he lies about it that I care about. He also told me that sometime in 1998 he began cumming regularly cuz of how we were able to get him inside me regularly, and cuz of the wonderful friction he feels now that he’s on top. First of all, he’s been on top for a while now. Second of all, he said sex is an emotional thing for him and not a physical thing. Lastly, he’s the one that refused to go inside me at times in the past. He’s the one that just had to play his games. It’s all bullshit excuses as far as I’m concerned. I’ve thought about it and thought about it and there’s no way he could be cumming regularly. I’d give anything to be wrong about this, but I know without a doubt that I’m not. And besides, no guy that doesn’t want a kid, and whose wife doesn’t want a kid, is gonna go squirting in her pussy regularly. He even admitted he’d do what I wanted first when it came to that. Even if he did want a kid, which I know damn well he doesn’t, he’d still go along with my not wanting one first, and do what he had to in order to ensure that I got what I wanted, which is no kid.

Now, why couldn’t he have just come out and told me, “I don’t want a kid and you don’t either, so why don’t I just not cum? I’d rather not cum than have to have you go through the hassles of birth control. I can get off on my own if I need to. Meanwhile, you go on ahead with your testing and try getting the answers you want.”

I also expressed that I was mad at myself for not going to this doctor back in 1994 when I wanted a kid, knew I was sterile, and so I could’ve maybe avoided years of misery. I should’ve not worried about him like he tells me not to. He always tells me not to worry about him and to just take care of myself. Then he tried to make me feel worse by turning things around and saying that I was mad at him and that I was blaming him. Well, I don’t appreciate his putting being embarrassed to talk to the doctors about his not cumming over my needs and my depression. He preferred that I go through all that depression like I did than be cornered by a doctor about his not cumming and about his not doing something he doesn’t want to do. What would he have done? Gone in there back then and said, “My wife wants a kid and she wants me to cum, but I don’t want a kid and I don’t want to cum, either?”

Still, we could’ve worked things out years ago somehow, if he’d only had the balls to face it and deal with it without going into denial and getting into lying and all that.

I’ll bet you anything that he’ll start telling me, after sex, that he hasn’t cum now that he knows I know he’s only cum twice in 1998. He admits to not cumming during the roofing, though, cuz it was at that time that I hinted certain things to him and he kind of caught on and figured he better be more honest from here on out. So, since then he’s admitted he doesn’t cum. It’s nice to know Tammy’s 48-year-old man can still get off in the midst of doing all that physical work of remodeling, but my 41-year-old man can’t. He can’t mix sex with physical work. Gotta act like an 80-year-old man instead.

Like I said, I don’t care how the sex itself is. It’s the lying and the lame, bogus excuses I get tired of, but this shit just never ends. If you want a sexual relationship of any kind with Tom S, you have to take it part-time, half-assed, and with all the lame lies and excuses added in. Then he said, “I could tell you that you should give me the benefit of the doubt when I tell you I cum regularly, but I won’t. I’ll let you be you and I’ll be me.”

Meanwhile, I guess I’ll continue on with the testing even if it does me no good in the long run. Tom might change his plans since I mentioned figuring that he’d let them have his cum for testing. He may refuse to let them have any now. If that’s what happens, then he can deal with this doctor alone about his not cumming if he wants to, but me? I’ll be out of there and permanently done with this whole fucking issue. It’s no wonder I don’t want a child anymore with this man. Not just because I don’t want the responsibilities and burdens of a child, and not just because I don’t want my life and freedom taken away by a kid, but because I’m so fucking sick of the whole subject that it sickens me. I just hope to hell I never go back to wanting a kid because both God and Tom would never allow me one.

Also, he’s been punishing me by not having sex with me all weekend.

What else could he be lying to me about? Is there anything else that’s not so obvious as this one that he’s been putting me on about? I’m just so confused. I don’t know who to trust or what to do, think, or believe anymore.

My lower teeth are enjoying their last moments of freedom. Got up at 2 AM. A little earlier than I’d like to have gotten up since I won’t be seeing Melie till 1:30, but I’ll live.

Tuesday, December 8, 1998

 

Patrice is here! Yup, the mailman surprised me by bringing her as early as 11:20. He said he wanted to get packages out of the way first. I can understand that. There are a lot of them at this time of year.

Patrice is beautiful, but it was just my shit doll luck that the hole in her stand wasn’t drilled through all the way for her toe-hold. Thanks to Tom and his drill bit, though, he widened it up enough. The stand grips her at the top of her thigh. Not the thigh of the leg that’s up in the air, of course. The toe of the leg that’s thigh is gripped, has an extension that goes through the bass of the stand for extra security, even though the thigh gripper does a fine job on its own.

Her hair wasn’t short. It was up in a bun, which makes sense. Ballerinas are feminine, so whoever did hear of a short-haired ballerina? Anyway, it took me forever to get this bun down! It’s still in a ponytail high on her head, but I braided the ponytail. It kind of sticks out a little, but it looks good enough.

Her dress is a little crumpled, but with time, it should fall out nicely. I’ll iron it if I have to.

Tom knows the song she twirls to, but I don’t. It’s kind of boring, even though I love to wind her up and watch her twirl!

So now I have 7 dolls and Patrice is my first one that’s all porcelain. The lollipop doll should be here between mid-late January, and I’d love to get that angel doll with my Christmas money, but that’s just the question - will there be any Christmas money since we’re not exchanging gifts this year?

We got a Christmas card from Cindy and one from Mary, Dave, Mom, and Mikey. I sent out my cards and a letter to Tammy and one to Kim containing my last few emails to her. Her computer’s still out of it.

As for my computer, I really rearranged things, and it was fun.

I called Andy to leave him a message, but he answered. He’s right back to his typical, sad self. He was baked and he’s still mostly jobless. He just sits in front of the TV, listens to music, or gabs on the phone. He said he was gonna sober up when his pot ran out, but he bought some more. He said he keeps in touch every day with 4 different temp agencies, but they have no work available for him. He said he’d like to pick up a paper but can’t afford one. Yet he could afford pot.

Face it, Andy. You don’t want to work or have a life or move on.

He said he had therapy yesterday with his gay therapist who’s had the same boyfriend for 18 years. I hope this will help him get off his ass and out of the rut he’s in. I know it’s hard, but he can’t afford to be lazy and hide behind a joint. He needs to work or else he’ll end up homeless.

No wonder I had a vibe of hitting down at 110 sometime in January. I’m gonna lose weight whether or not I want to, cuz having to keep stripping all this wax and reapplying it is a bitch!

The good of it is that it only took 45 minutes to get these on. Not 1½ hours like with the upper ones. Also, my inner mouth isn’t on fire like it was when the upper ones went on. Guess I’ve learned to use this wax well, but still. I not only have to wax the two inner knobs, but I also have to wax the front to keep my lip from hanging up on them. Your bottom lip goes over the bottom teeth more so than up top so up top never really got hung up. It’s easier to sing than it is to talk since you usually talk faster than you sing. I’m also not as sore as I thought I’d be. I am if I try to eat, though. Too sore to even chew gum. It’ll be a while before I can do that. So, I guess the upper braces will come off in March, and the lower ones will come off in a year when I’m 34. And I guess I won’t be living here when the bottom ones come off, either.

What was flattering to me was that Melanie had my card sitting in her room. And mine was the only card there! Was this because she hasn’t gotten any other cards yet to set up? Or cuz mine was her favorite?

The massage recliner in the living room broke. Tom said it’s not worth fixing, so we’ll bring out the one that’s in the bedroom and dump this one when they do their bulk pick-up out in the alley like they do every few months.

Later…

Just let the cat in to eat and meow. Man, is it freezing out! If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear I was back east. It’s 50º, but it feels like it’s in the 20s.

I printed out all the things I want to use to border the tops of the pages of my printed versions of these journals. There are old journal covers, drawings, family pictures, celebrity pictures, and a few things that come with the program I used to make the borders. There were a few that I doubted would come out nice, but I told myself to try them anyway, cuz I could always freeloader it if I didn’t like them. So, the freeloaders will get the ones I don’t like for their own journal excerpts. I can’t believe I’m not low on ink after all I printed.

How could I forget my surprisingly good news? I called the doctor’s office and found out that I got a normal pap! Is it a good sign of any kind? I don’t know. It’s too soon to tell. There must be a reason, though, why I’ve come this far, despite his lack of cumming and his lying about it.

Wednesday, December 9, 1998

 

I can finally call for the uterus scan. Once again, though, my period’s really, really light. Even lighter than the last one with no full flow. I had a light flow for a few hours, but now it’s dried up again. Still, I’m gonna make the damn appointment and get that over with.

I’m still stunned that God hasn’t seen to it that I’ve had more female problems than just some yeast infections. Most of all, I can’t believe he hasn’t seen to it that I’ve needed a hysterectomy. I wonder why. That does seem, after all, like something he’d do to me and that would fit my “life patterns,” so to speak. Especially after he’s cursed me sexually. I’d think that if one was cursed with sex, their sexual parts would be cursed too.

Tom and I were talking about how a few months after a couple either adopts or starts fertility testing, they sometimes find the woman’s pregnant so they end up having their own kid after all. Fortunately, that only happens to other couples. God still would not only not give me something like that that I couldn’t handle, but it’s not destined.

I haven’t lost any weight since the braces went on and it looks like I’ll stay the 112-115 pounds I bottomed out at 5 months ago. Especially since I’m constipated nearly every other day.

I’m looking forward to moving my computer back into the back room. Not just so Tom and I can be networked again, and so I can be near the animals again as distracting as they can be, but so I can set up my dolls in the living room where my computer is now. Also, I’m going to go back to walking. My back’s been fine, but if I walk at least 15 minutes a day, no one can say I’m too non-active even if walking doesn’t really do me any good. It doesn’t tone me up or slim me down. It may increase my stamina a bit, though.

Tom worked on Mary’s computer, and as usual, he had to go back to work on it some more. That’s because Mikey fucked it up. Tom talked to Mary about using him for so many jobs, so I would think that she’d keep that in mind, but time will tell.

Sometime late this morning we’ll be going out to get that prep kit for the kidney exam, some more roofing shingles, and 2-3 new mice! We’ll hit PetSmart first, then Petco.

Later…

It’s freezing out! It’s 38º, but it feels less than that. As I knew it’d be, it’s to be a beautiful weekend for the mistake’s party. It’s gonna be sunny and warmer.

The dogs are up now too, so time to run the air cleaner.

Later…

I just came really, really close to calling off the kidney and uterus testing and the whole damn thing. These fucking voice machines! You can’t even talk to a live person anymore! First I called Genesis to schedule the uterus test, but couldn’t get a hold of anyone live. Also, there were no options for scheduling on the main menu, so I had to hit randomly to get a live person. Someone in radiology answered, but couldn’t help me cuz I couldn’t remember the name of the test. So after going through hell trying to get in touch with Vicki, who does Dr. Well’s referrals, I left her a message since she too, has a machine. She was away from her desk, I guess.

Is this where God starts throwing hurdles at me to send me a message saying he disagrees with what I’m doing and therefore trying to stop me?

Later…

Vicki just called and cleared up all my confusion and frustration. At least she did for the time being, anyway. I told her my problem and she gave me the initials for this very long and complicated test name and told me that they’d know what I meant at Genesis Center if I used those initials. Then she offered to make the appointment for me, which I hoped she’d do. So, I’m waiting for her to call me back.

Later…

I heard back from Vicki. I got both the IVP kidney test and the HSG uterus test scheduled for the same day. She said they told her to tell me to have someone drive me to these tests. I’m getting a little nervous here. Are these gonna be really painful tests and am I gonna get sick? She said the uterus test is a form of x-ray, and this is the test where they insert a dye into the fallopian tubes. This test is usually all a sterile woman needs, cuz the most common cause of sterility is clogged fallopian tubes, but I know this isn’t my problem. My problem’s much deeper than just clogged tubes.

Thursday, December 10, 1998

 

Yesterday was a hectic, frustrating, confusing, yet fun day. First, I called Tammy this morning to tell her that I finally got through the worst of the lower braces. A few days after you get them on, your mouth is pretty inflamed like mine was yesterday, but now I’m home free and my mouth is callused and toughened up to them just about. My bite is still off, though, even when it’s not sore, so I have to eat nothing but soft foods. I eat mostly soup and even woke up a pound lighter today at 112. I’ll be stuck tomorrow. My shit system always turns itself off when I hit 112 so my body can hang onto whatever I eat and not shit it out till it gets back up to the 115 it’s comfortable at. Once I gain those few pounds back in a day or two, I’ll shit.

I also told Tammy about our pet store adventures yesterday, which I’ll get into in a minute.

First, poor Becky has to have surgery this morning on her knees and ankles for her rheumatoid arthritis. That’s really sad. I told Tammy to call once they got settled in to let me know how things went. Meanwhile, I’m sending the kid a get-well card.

God’s really cursed this family well. One generation after another. What kinds of problems would my kid have had if I had had one? Plenty, I’m sure.

If I had any sense whatsoever, I’d forget all about this fertility testing. Why put myself through all this shit just to get answers I may not get? I know I’m sterile, I know a kid isn’t meant to be whether or not I want one, so why do I torture myself like this? I guess if I gave up now I’d feel like a quitter, but that’s not to say for sure that I won’t back out at some point by either force or my own will. With my luck, I’ll just be told they can’t find anything wrong so I can be even more frustrated and confused, but then again, that’s part of getting the information I want. This way, if I go through with this, I won’t have to always wonder if they’d have told me they couldn’t find anything wrong. I’ll know for sure. That’s Tom’s guess. Tom said he couldn’t be sure on this one, but if he had to guess he’d guess they wouldn’t be able to find anything wrong cuz it’d be one of those subtle things beyond their abilities to find that I’ll outgrow in time. No fucking way. My first guess is that they’ll find what’s wrong, but it’ll be one of those rare things that they still can’t fix.

His saying this kind of reinforces my suspicions as to what he’ll do. He, having full control over his cumming, will continue to make sure he rarely cums with me, but that he lets them have a sample for testing, then he’ll hope/believe that they won’t be able to find anything wrong with me, so he can come home, go back to rarely cumming, and end up getting what he wants which is no kid. Meanwhile, if I had been fixable I’d have probably gone and let them fix me, then left it in God’s hands, even though the thought of having a kid and giving up my life and freedom, doesn’t really appeal to me.

I asked Tom why he’d cum in me regularly as he claims he does when he knows I don’t want a kid. He said he does because I didn’t tell him he couldn’t. True. I told him to be himself and do what he wants. Just don’t lie about it.

Anyway, I think I know how this is gonna play itself out. Whether or not I get fixed, he’ll cum very rarely with me and at a safe time, give them a sample of his cum which I didn’t think he’d do at first till I realized how convenient for him it’d be to do so, then he’ll just keep on rarely cumming with me so he can get his way. All this would be just fine too, if he’d just come out and say so. I’m on his side now. I don’t want a kid either, and God will see fit to it that I don’t conceive. I don’t know how to convince him a child will never be in the picture, so he doesn’t have to make such huge sacrifices and live with this fear, be it deep in his subconscious or not. Technically, God doesn’t have to sterilize a woman in order to keep her from conceiving. He can just make sure nothing starts growing in there, but still, fate is fate and I’m fated to never have a child. I’m psychic enough to know this. It’s also common sense too, telling me that he wouldn’t give me something I couldn’t handle.

I say I’d probably let them fix me if I were fixable, but that may not necessarily be so depending on the cost. I wouldn’t lower myself and degrade and humiliate myself by buying into normalcy, so to speak. I’m not gonna make myself suffer over a God who didn’t care enough to let me be born whole and normal. Like I said, there are some things that a woman shouldn’t have to do. Things that are God’s job, not hers.

I think I broke a record last Monday by being able to get to three appointments that were each one week apart. I don’t think I would’ve been able to do that in the past.

For the last two mornings, I’ve gotten anonymous calls at around 9:30. I have a feeling it’s Andy, just being a pest in the midst of his baked boredom. He doesn’t even leave messages. What? Does he just want me to hear the phone ringing and get up to check the box? He’s like that. He does little things like that to get attention. It’s along the same idea as the bangers and their “hear me” and “notice me” kick. I just wish he’d get a life and get a job! He only works a few hours a week. If he tried hard enough, he could get a job very easily in this city, but the fact that he still hasn’t called and told me of his new job that he’ll have for a week, tells me something right there. Even he’s admitted to being lazy and scared. God, he’s sad! How can he be so terrified of starting new jobs when he’s had to do it 100 times? He should be an expert by now.

Later…

God! I can’t even eat soup with noodles in it or the noodles that are in my favorite chicken TV dinners. They get hung up on the braces and get stuck midway down my throat. I’m gonna have to live on chicken broth!

It’s to be cool today and tomorrow, into the 70s for the weekend for perfect partying weather, and cooling down on Monday. Now that’s typical Arizona for you and that means that although the roof will be done this week, I’m gonna be forcefully invited to that mistake’s party if I don’t throw headphones on. Tom said they probably wouldn’t do something as extravagant as that inflatable elephant two birthdays in a row, but still, that doesn’t take away from all the screaming kids that’ll be playing outside, and who knows? They may even use this as an excuse to bang in and out, figuring her birthday’s only once a year, and that if they do it just once every now and then, I won’t complain to the city. But once is never enough for them. Once they really get on a roll, they get totally carried away. It’s like they get addicted to harassing me and they’ve just got to test and push and provoke and aaaarrrrgggghhhh! Some people just like to pick fights and problems, but my vibe isn’t too bad as of yet. Birthday party or not, they gotta do something in return for the roofing noise. I know them. I notice that every 3 months or so, they make some sort of scene for old time’s sake.

Later…

I am so goddamn sick of living like an 18-year-old! I have to go out to the back patio just to be able to use my fucking garbage disposal. I had to turn on the back room power, then after I used the disposal, I went to turn it back off and accidentally turned off the power to the computer and the bedrooms. So I had to reset the alarm clock and the stereo, but like I said, at our ages, I’m sick of living like lazy teenagers or college kids live. We don’t deserve this, but life really isn’t fair. Fucking Dureen was living high off the hog long before she was our age and we don’t even want to live “high off the hog.” We just want a decent house whose doors, faucets, plugs, etc. work well enough. One with a solid roof over our heads for when it rains. One with normal, nice, modern, double-paned windows. With doors that close all the way. With newer, bigger rooms, although, the back room and master bedroom are pretty big. I want a bathroom with elbow room and with at least just the tiniest bit of counter space. Anyway, some would call me selfish I suppose, but I don’t think that that’s too much to ask for in today’s world. Then again, that depends on who we are, doesn’t it? It’s OK for Doe to ask for and to receive just about anything she could want, but some of us, like I did in the past, can’t even ask for a baby. Even that’s too far-fetched and out of the question! You know that’s really not meant to be with a husband like mine and with a God that’s so controlling. What I mean by when I say “like a husband like mine” is in reference to how he only cums twice a year when I’m ragging.

Maybe we’re living like this cuz we’re simply gonna be compensated and live better later on. Once again, why do Tom and I have to pay for everything? Again, life isn’t fair cuz there are so many people who get all kinds of wonderful things for nothing. They don’t work for them, they don’t care about them, and they usually don’t deserve them, either.

Remembering his mom’s old house helps at times like these. Her place is even smaller, older, and more fucked up than ours. After visiting her place, I felt like I was returning to a modern mansion when we returned home! It was only about 700 square feet, but ours is about 1,200. We drove by it yesterday and they lied. The people who bought it aren’t fixing it up. They’re selling it as it is. They didn’t even tear down that old rotted, tilted barn-like garage. They took all the inside and outside blinds down. You can see it’s empty in there. Some huge Mexican family will get it and their screaming kids will join in with the screaming kids next to and behind the house. Their dog will be outside to yip away 24/7 too.

We were out twice yesterday. The first time, we went to pick up that prep kit first, which is an enema. The woman there told me I wasn’t scheduled for both tests on the same day, according to the computer. I almost called it quits right then and there, but later, Tom called back and told me I was scheduled for both tests that day. Well, I’m going for these tests on Monday, as nervous as I am, and if there are any problems, then that’s it. It’s over.

Is God testing me? Why is he doing this to me? How can God do this to a woman?

Vicki said she’s talked to people who have had these tests and she says that some say it’s no big deal, and others say it’s pretty uncomfortable. The woman there said it’d be a little uncomfortable cuz it dilates the cervix a bit. Tom thinks that because I had excruciating periods as a teenager, most women would find it bad, but I won’t find it too bad. I think it’s gonna hurt like hell. I may be a toughie when it comes to teeth, but not with pussies! I’m very sensitive down there. Maybe not like I was before I knew Tom, but I’m still plenty sensitive enough. In fact, one of God’s many reasons for sterilizing me is that he knows I could never handle having a kid.

Like I said, if I had any smarts at all, I’d just call it all off. There’s no reason for me to go through all this shit just for info when I know what the future holds as far as a kid goes, whether I continue to not want a kid, or decide in 5 years I want one again.

I have mixed emotions about not wanting a kid. If I wanted one like I used to, I’d feel more motivated to go through with this shit. However, when the end result was no baby, I don’t think that’d do my emotions any good.

After getting the prep kit, we went to pick up some more roofing shingles, then to two pet stores.

I was surprised and disappointed to find that only one place had Fancy mice and they were all males.

On my way into one of these stores, I saw two little kids heading into the store and thought to myself how they’d go right where I was going. Sure enough, they did, and they were obnoxious in the way that all kids are.

Then we came home and I had some soup, while he unloaded the shingles and made a call to a tool shop.

We went out again and had a little trouble finding the shop, then had to wait for what seemed like 20 minutes for the guy to bring Tom his part for his nail gun. It’s a part that advances the next nail to speed the job up even more.

Our final stop was another pet store. Again, no Fancy mice, but all three places had tons of rats. However, there was this $160 awesome investment that’ll house a whole lifetime of rats! It’s mainly for ferrets, but Ratsy should love this thing! It’s got huge tubes and lots of different levels to climb. Within a week, we’ll be getting this and maybe one or two more rats, too!

So, even though all I ended up getting was mice/rat food, Tom was laughing at how we went from getting a few $3 mice to a $160 cage, although I do still intend to get some more mice.

We enjoyed our time out together and Tom was in a good mood, laughing and mocking me swearing, and you know how clean his mouth is compared to mine! He was even laughing with me at this woman in a car near us who had short, funny-looking hair (Tom almost never laughs at someone for how they look). It was light up top and dark on the bottom. It reminded me of vanilla ice cream on top and a scoop of chocolate ice cream.

Friday, December 11, 1998

 

What a pleasant surprise. Woke up at 111½.

I wish I could snap my fingers and have it be noon-1:00. We’re getting that cage today and a new rat too!

Yesterday was the third morning in a row Andy called, but yesterday, he left a message. He was finally going through the job section in the paper when he came across an ad I may be interested in, he said. A music teacher was wanted that must be able to sing on pitch willing to train to do other things and teach kids between 1-7.

I told him thanks, but no thanks. I like music only as a hobby nowadays and I like to do and not teach. I still couldn’t keep a schedule like that and it’d be hard for me to get to the place.

I’m proud of myself, but mostly shocked, for being able to have a little more control over my schedule, for getting to these weekly appointments, and for being able to sleep while he’s working overhead, but I’m still far from normal as far as schedules, sleeping with him, and other things go. Even so, I’ve learned more and have changed more in the time I’ve known him, than in all of the time before that. At least, it sure seems that way!

I still wish I could have more doors open to me. I wish I could keep a schedule so that if I ever did want to do a job like this or some other job, at least the door wouldn’t be slammed in my face as it is now cuz of having no control over my schedule. That’s what this fertility thing is all about. Having doors open and taking back my free will as a woman. Yes, I’m curious as to why I’m sterile, but it’d be nice to be fertile just so that I could know I had a choice in the matter. Up to now, I’ve never had any say in the matter. It’s all been up to God only. I’d like to have as many doors open so that even though the chances are one in billions of my wanting a kid again in the future, God supporting that, Tom cumming enough, and me being able to keep a schedule regularly, I could at least open some doors that have been locked on me all my life.

As easy as it is to say what I just said, though, it’s just as easy to say I hope they tell me my uterus is very badly deformed. That’d make things easier, even if it made me angrier at God that he could do such a mean thing to me or to any woman.

I decided to take some of the old printed journals that I had bound in wires to send to Bob as a little something for Christmas in a manila envelope. There’s something like journals 2-14 in there. These were the ones that used thinner paper that fit better in the envelopes I’ve got. Hope he reads them since he’s got so much time on his hands, but if he doesn’t, he doesn’t. I’m pretty sure he will, though.

Tom worked on the roof yesterday and says he’s now down to having just 3-4 more hours left to complete the roof and make it 100% safe from rain. That’s hard to believe after all this time! He said this job would take 5 days. Instead, it’s been since 11/13.

I get a little annoyed with Andy’s calling me about that job the more I think of it. If his brain wasn’t too potted out to remember things, and if he even listened and gave a shit, he’d know that I only like to sing as a hobby nowadays. I think the main reason he left the message was just to be calling and leaving a message for the attention of it. I swear he can be just as selfish as he was back east. It’s just mainly in a different way.

I don’t have a good vibe about the freeloaders this weekend, nor do I have a bad vibe. When I wake up on Saturday morning, I should be able to get a damn good sense of the weekend freeloader forecast at that time. It’s usually the mornings that provide the strongest sense of what they’ll be like in the afternoons/evenings.

What will I do for the next 6 hours? I sang and I’ve updated things here, so maybe I’ll do some reading.

Later…

Just had some soup and listened to music. Another hour or so and Andy will call. The morning is passing so slowly! Still have 4-5 hours before we go out. I wish I didn’t get up till around now, but then that’d make it harder for me to hold back enough on my schedule to get to the appointments on Monday. I’d have to take Benadryl to fall asleep earlier to keep me from sleeping too late.

Yuck! My stomach’s all gassy now from the bean soup.

Later…

Shiny, who we now call the cat with his shiny black fur, just meowed to be let out. The good of his non-stop meowing is that I can go into another room and he’ll call to let me know when he wants out. Meanwhile, I let him out and he’s out there meowing to himself. So weird!

I forgot to say that for about a week now, the dog across the street has sort of become the problem I knew it would be. However, I’m not entirely sure it’s directly across the street where the renters are, but it is somewhere across the street. Fortunately, it doesn’t bark that much (no dog could bark as much as those collies) and it’s quiet at night, so I still have my nighttime peace.

Later…

Just 2-3 more hours to go!!

What? No call this morning from Andy?

Saturday, December 12, 1998

 

Fittingly, the mistake’s birthday is on the 13th. Last year that was a Saturday, this year it’s a Sunday. Tomorrow. That may explain why I didn’t wake up with a bad vibe constantly nagging at me. It’s probably not today we have to worry about. It’s tomorrow we have to worry about. However, with two city complaints lodged against them, maybe they’ll only do four hours’ worth of ball games and not the stereos. We’ll see. If there’s any major shit from them, they’re gonna have to pay for it, that’s for sure. I just don’t know how they’ll pay, but they will. Maybe it won’t be so bad, though, cuz not only are my vibes not that bad, but I have three things on my side for this final Mistake birthday. The complaints, there being no dog over there, and his not living there. I’m sure he’ll be over doing his laundry and banging his bitch, though.

I haven’t shit yet today and am not the least bit surprised over that, even though I had bean soup yesterday that’s high in fiber. The reason I’m not surprised is that I woke up at 110½ pounds. The fact that I had less than 1000 calories yesterday and woke up only a pound lighter, tells me that it really is true that I’ll never get down to 100 pounds again without total or very near starvation. And it really is true that if I were 100 pounds at the snap of my fingers, I’d just go right back up between 110-115 in a matter of days.

Tom, who bullshitted me yesterday about wanting more sex, has gone off to drive his race car on his computer. Why oh why is he such a liar and a joker when it comes to sex/kid? Can’t he give it up? It’s old, Tom! I understand, though, that he wants to keep his energy to get through these last few hours of work that need to be done, even if I don’t think it should affect a guy that was even older than he is. He and I both are tired of setbacks. But as I know damn well, as soon as he’s finished with this, it’ll be on to something else that’ll be very time-consuming.

Before we went out yesterday, I ended up taking up Andy’s and Marla’s offer to call Linda. She was very nice and she spoke well to me and very openly, too. She was quite talkative too, and I even had a hard time getting a word in edgewise at times.

The main reason I called was to ask about the HSG exam. She said everyone’s different, but having a high tolerance to pain, it didn’t hurt her. She said it was cool how you could see the dye running up the fallopian tubes.

She told me all about the things she’s done and went through as far as getting pregnant goes. She started the testing route when she was 30 and didn’t have kids until her 40s. That’s because the technology wasn’t where it is today when she was 30. Today, they guarantee virtually everyone they can have kids. Different states vary in what they offer and what’s covered by insurance. In California, you pay a flat rate fee of about $20,000 for a certain number of tries. If you don’t get pregnant and have a kid, they give you your money back. In other words, this is for the rich.

She was one of those cases where there started off being an explanation as to why she couldn’t conceive, then she was one of those unexplained infertility cases for a while. She said it’s not that she couldn’t conceive, it’s that she’d always miscarry. They found one clogged tube, but technically you only need one tube as long as the sex is normal with the guy you’re with and as long as he’s willing to cum regularly. A little more than regularly in a case like that. But then no one knows to this day why she couldn’t carry the non-invitro pregnancies. She said she could get pregnant on Friday and lose it by Monday, although I don’t see how you could know you were pregnant if you lost it just three days later, so maybe that was an exaggeration. Maybe after they did the in vitro, they gave her some sort of hormone medication. I forgot to ask. Anyway, maybe it was God’s will to do whatever he felt he had to do to keep her from having kids until she was in her 40s. Maybe there’s a reason too, why he felt she could only have them by way of in vitro. Who knows why he does the things he does? As she said, the assholes live long, healthy lives, while the good ones die young. This is why I always worry about Tom. It’s like he’s too good for life, in God’s eyes. Also, the ones that are too young or too fucked up or both, never seem to have a problem getting pregnant.

She said that the most common causes of infertility are clogged tubes or something within the uterus lining. So I’ve heard. I’ve heard just about everything she told me, except I didn’t know that in vitro causes multiples. I thought only the drug they give you to make you ovulate more eggs did that. She said she had three of them but lost one after she began hemorrhaging.

Anyway, she said they check women for hormone levels, to make sure they’re ovulating, and things like that. I don’t know how the hell they can check to see if a woman’s ovulating, though. I wish my case was and wasn’t a case of a clogged tube or wacky hormone levels. A part of me feels it’d be nice to have the problem be simple so I could have more options open to me, but a part of me also hopes they tell me my uterus is hopeless, cuz that’d make the decisions easier if there was nothing to have to decide, even though God gets the final say in all of this.

You can get pregnant, then lose it, if your hormone levels go wacky during pregnancy.

As for testing Tom, she said they’ll test him last as a last resort if they don’t find anything wrong with me. Great. Then I won’t have to worry that he’ll decide not to do his part. I know the problem’s me, and she too, knew since she was 18 that she’d have problems getting pregnant. And she didn’t have the DES, the years of drugs, and all these things against her. There was nothing to say she couldn’t get pregnant. Only her gut instinct. I don’t know if I was 18 when I knew a child wasn’t meant to be for me, but it does seem that for most of my life, I knew I’d never have one, fertile or not.

She said she’s not ashamed of how she got her kids and that if I find I am right about there being something wrong - it’s not my fault. I know that, but it still makes me feel picked on by God. It’s like, wasn’t his having me born to the kinds of people I was born to more than enough of a cruel punishment to dump on me?

She said she’s no doctor, but my erratic light periods could be a sign of early menopause. Or maybe I do, as Tom suggested, have a hormone problem. But that doesn’t explain my infertility in the past when my periods were normal. Oh, the questions that eat at me! I just hope I get some answers. Right now, the question isn’t am I going to have a kid? I know that’s not meant to be no matter what. The questions are what is wrong with me and what am I going to do about it?

I asked Tom if he’d have a kid if he wasn’t 100% sure he wanted one, and he said he wouldn’t if he had any doubts.

I asked Linda if she believed God made me as I am for a reason and that I shouldn’t fight it, or anything else she thought, but she said the same thing Tom said. God wouldn’t have given us the brains to figure out how to get almost anyone pregnant if he didn’t want us doing that, but again, you don’t need to be sterile in order for God to make sure you don’t get pregnant. If you do everything that technology has to offer in order to get fixed, have a normal sex life, then still don’t conceive, then yeah, it really, really wasn’t meant to be and it’s just God’s will for whatever reason be it fair or unfair, right or wrong.

I admitted without hesitation that if it were between 1994-1997, I’d have jumped at the opportunity of getting fixed and getting pregnant, but I just don’t know if I want that anymore. I don’t feel that deep-down desire I used to feel. I didn’t get into why I feel I’m incompetent to have kids or our freak sex life, but I don’t know if I’d even enjoy motherhood with all its burdens, responsibilities, and restrictions, and the desire’s just not there anymore like it used to be. Only the questions remain. I automatically say how I don’t want to give up my life and freedom, but when I think about it, it wouldn’t kill me to shuffle things around and do the things I do much less often or at scheduled times. It wouldn’t kill me if I couldn’t sing at 2 AM, but it’s the not having any time to myself or with my husband that I would worry about. And the sleep schedule, my temper, and my lack of patience and experience.

She wondered if maybe I’d given up a little and I told her I did that a long time ago. Knowing a kid isn’t meant to be whether I wanted one or not, I could never in a million years go as far as she went and go through years of testing/trying, even though you don’t have to anymore.

I just don’t know what to do, though! Do I want to get fixed if I’m told I can be fixed? Should I bother to be “normal” when I know what’s fated to be? Is there any way I could be wrong about God and Tom controlling and limiting me and my being fated not to have a kid? Is there any way I could be wrong about not enjoying or being able to handle motherhood? I don’t see how I could be wrong. God’s gotta have made me sterile for a reason. Just like Tom has his reasons for being the way he is in bed, which is fear. He may not consciously know it, but he doesn’t want the time a child would take up or its responsibilities, and he doesn’t really think I’d be a good mom like he says.

Let’s just start with finding out whatever I can before I decide what to do about it. Until I have all my options at hand, I can’t say for sure what I’m gonna do.

She told me a couple of other things I didn’t know, but that didn’t shock me, cuz it’s so common. She started off by acknowledging how shitty my folks were and that no one did anything about it. That was the way back then, I told her. Society looked the other way.

Anyway, Milton, Norma’s husband, was a whoring gambler. They’re somehow related to me, I guess. Some kind of cousins.

There was some couple at the beach too, that was once friends with my folks, her folks, and others that were in the same clique, who turned out to be child molesters. Not the wife, but the husband. They had 4 boys and a girl, Linda said, and the husband molested the girl, I guess, and God knows who else.

Let me take a break now to go call Paula, who left a message yesterday at a new number. A new address too, no doubt.

Later…

No answer at Paula’s. I left a message.

I got my daily call from Andy yesterday after I left a message telling him I talked to Linda (I’m still nervous about Monday, though). He said he was proud of me for calling her. Whatever. He also said he kept his mouth shut at a temp agency that gave him a few days’ worth of work. Yeah, yeah. He’ll subconsciously set himself up to be fired before the New Year.

Later…

I’m not looking forward to this prep kit any more than I’m looking forward to these appointments (especially the female-related one). I had to drink a solution that tastes like shit and take some pills. Even worse, I have to shove a suppository up my ass.

Yesterday I got fed up with having to play toilet day in and day out, among all the other problems this old house has, so I tried to fix it. That only helped a little, so while we were out yesterday getting more shingles, we got a new toilet valve and flusher. This is a push-button one. So far so good, but for some reason I’m as hexed with toilets as I am with sex, so we’ll see how it holds up. As long as we can get by, we can just let the next people deal with it. It doesn’t affect the house’s value. The next owners should replace the whole damn toilet if they have any smarts.

Tom and I were just talking about moving and he said we might want to go with just one acre not as far out of town, rather than twenty acres further out of town, and put our money into soundproofing. This way, it won’t matter that the city’s still close by and we could afford the property taxes. If we moved further out and got many acres, and if the city really did catch up to us, that’d up the value of the property and cause us to maybe not be able to afford the property taxes. The closer you are to the city, the costlier the land is. Well, if I could have something just as good that only took twenty minutes to get to stores/doctors/etc., rather than forty, I’d take the twenty.

We went and got that cage. It is huge! And so nice too. With its bass on the ground, it’s an inch shorter than me and about 3’ wide. If it were on wheels, it’d be taller than me. As our luck would have it, we were missing parts so we couldn’t get it up on wheels. Tom will pick up those parts, as well as some ramps that you can get for this cage to make easier access going up and down the 4 different levels. Its bass is a light-colored plastic. Almost like a big litter box. The walls and top are black wires. They’re thick and solid and the whole cage is pretty heavy. At first, I was worried that Mickey, my new rat, would get through the bars, but he couldn’t. It has 3 light-colored plastic shelves that you snap on each level to make floors. One of each of the 3 shelves, has a hole in it for connecting a big tube. Just like how the mice’s cages have floor tubes.

Hey Joebitch, enjoying that banging? Yeah, he’s up on the roof now with hopes of being done at 2:30.

Anyway, there are three tubes. A T-shaped pink one, a straight yellow one, and a curved purple one. Ratsy can get to the 2nd floor just fine, and he can get through the curved tube that leads to the top floor, but will he ever be able to get through the straight tube up to the 3rd floor? He’s physically capable of it, but I don’t know if he’ll ever want to bother. This is why I’m going to get ramps. I also want a couple more rats too, at some point. This cage would be perfect for four rats if you’re not gonna house a ferret in it. I think that if Ma gives us just $50 and not $100 each for Christmas, I’ll get a couple more rats since I won’t be able to get that angel doll. Oh, I hope I will though! But if I can’t, I can’t.

So far, Mickey’s pretty brave and friendly, but not very active. He’s in the old wooden burrow a lot that I put on the bottom along with the black wheel that Ratsy uses. The 2nd floor has Ratsy’s favorite straw-like burrow that’s round with four openings. The 3rd floor has a curved green piece of wood, and the new dark green wheel I just got. The 4th floor has a purple burrow just like Ratsy’s favorite one, only it’s smaller and it’s of thick plastic, and the deep purple hammock that came with the cage. As with the Play City cages, there are other accessories you can add on. You can even add on walls and floors, but this is plenty big enough! Mickey has more brown than Ratsy does. It extends a little further down his neck and more than halfway down the top of his back. He also has dark spots on his tail. Ratsy just has a dark head, with just a little darkness on the sides of his neck, one small dark dot on his upper back, and that’s it. He’s mostly white.

It was pretty funny when at the checkout counter I saw what looked to be jumping fish in no water in a bag that a woman behind us had. Tom, who was closer to her, told me they were crickets that were probably used to feed a lizard. Oh. To me, it looked like little fish in a bag with no water.

Later…

Tom just went to pick up some more shingles. Only a small spot in the center of the roof is still unshingled, so I uncovered my dolls and set them back up. I missed them.

Although it’s now freeloader prime time, no activity and no bad vibe yet. The white car should be in any time now to pick up the bitch. We’ll see what I wake up with tomorrow for vibes, though.

I forgot to mention that Ratsy and Mickey get along very well. Ratsy still doesn’t like Tom, though, and he bit him twice.

Linda said that the only real discomfort she found in all the fertility testing/procedures was when they measured the distance from her opening to the back wall of the uterus for when they went to inject the fertilized egg. She said that when they hit the back wall, that caused cramping. Yeah, I’ll bet.

She said C-sections are a killer compared to having it vaginally, cuz it’s major surgery where they go through the muscle and have to push around organs to get at the baby. She said when gas and shit go through the intestines and all that for the first time afterward, it’s tough, and you can barely move for about a week. She said as long as you don’t tear vaginally since what hurts down there afterward is the pee going where the stitches are, you’re fine. How can a vagina be fine after having something 4-5 inches wide go through it? I’d think it’d have to tear. I mean, that’s quite a stretch!

She also said that once the labor pains peak, all you feel is like you have to push and take a dump. Once again, how can all you feel be labor pains? What about the pain of the baby passing through the birth canal? Was her crotch numbed?

Sunday, December 13, 1998

 

Fortunately, I don’t have a bad vibe about the freeloaders. Tom said it was unlikely that something big was gonna go down seeing that it’s close to noon already and they haven’t started setting anything up. We’ll see, but I still wouldn’t be surprised if there was some company and some ball playing. All we’ve seen so far is the white car. It probably dropped the bitch off from the church.

Yesterday, Tom saw the cock loading up its car. For what? They obviously haven’t gone anywhere and besides, it’s too soon for that. If they were gonna take off for Christmas, it’s too soon.

At 8:40 last night, the cock’s car pulled in and I heard something being unloaded from the car. Then I heard nothing till it left twenty minutes later.

Tom also said that no dog across the street barked at all yesterday, and he was up on that roof for several hours. He said there was a dog that was barking a lot the next block over.

Yes, it’s truly hard to believe this, but the roof is done! He’s now doing the final steps - putting the turbans on, putting trim around the sides to keep the wind from lifting the roofing up, and things like that. I won’t even bother to ask that he trim the tree out front and the hedges after he’s done, cuz I know he won’t. And if he did, he’d do it months after I asked. Soon we’ll begin the cleanup part of the job. That should take some time to do too, but it’ll be nothing like the roof. Now, all he has to do is put a roof over the patio, which will also be a joke compared to over the house/garage. That’s flat and doesn’t need all those shingles.

I’m now able to get away with only waxing the knobs on the lower braces just like with up top. I don’t need to bother with the hassles of waxing up the braces on the front teeth cuz now my mouth is used to them.

Evie sent a Christmas card with a picture of the kids. Her and her pictures of the kids!

Online, after I was bitching to her about always having to fix something around here, she said that she too, went through that for years and that she even had to go without any cooling system of any kind! No swamp cooler, no AC, no nothing! My God! So, I told her that from now on whenever I went to bitch about this house, I’d think of her.

She also bragged about her new family van and I was like, you fucker! You get free will as a woman, the house you want, the vehicle you want, you’ve never had a sex problem that I’ve known of, and you can keep a schedule. Well, I’m not too worried. I may never have free will as a woman, but we’ll have that dream house and that newer, nicer, bigger vehicle eventually.

Today’s gonna be a tough day cuz all I can have is liquids. Thanks to that stupid, incompetent Vicki who told me I could eat as I usually do up till midnight before the appointment, it came as a sort of surprise to me when I read that I really couldn’t have anything more than gelatin, plain bread, and dry crackers. Mostly clear soup and water, though. Fortunately, the instructions say tea and coffee are OK. On the other hand, it shouldn’t be too tough cuz I really can’t eat much anyway with the bottom braces. I can only have liquids or soft stuff, like mashed potatoes.

My vibe rang true today. I woke up at 110 pounds! Again, losing just half a pound in your sleep should tell you something. In my case, my body’s doing everything it can to hang onto its weight. I haven’t shit for two days since I dropped under 112, but that’s gonna be taken care of in about six hours when I drink this milkshake kind of mix I have to drink. I just hope I don’t get sick! Then at bedtime, I have three little pills to take. Then I have to get up two hours before the appointment tomorrow to shove that suppository up my ass. Gross, huh?

Later…

I thought of something Linda said. When she was acknowledging that I’ve got to be the one to decide if a kid’s worth it enough to me to be willing to go so far with the testing and all that, she questioned if I felt like I was “missing” something. It’s been said that sterile women often say they feel like something’s missing from their lives when they can’t have kids. Me? I never felt that something was “missing” in that sense. Maybe that’s because I have so many other things.

We went to Walgreens yesterday and I picked up some more of that Gillette lotion I like. This one smells a little different, though. I got a few puzzles, some nail polish, some chicken broth, some Jell-O, and he got some donuts.

The nail polish is really cool. It’s got slivers of glitter in a clear polish. Between the two bottles I got, there’s purple, magenta, green and red. I want to go back and get one with silver some time, as well as these fake nails with these really cool designs on them. The lady at the check-out counter had one is of a blue sky with clouds. I thought they were decals, but she said they’re not and that they don’t fall off easily. My own nails can grow, but they look like shit with their ridges, so I want to get these. The glitter nail polish helps to hide my ridges. Nails look pretty shabby when solid colors start to chip off, but with this, you can’t tell when it’s chipping cuz there are clear spaces in between glitter slivers.

We went to Staples too, to look for a much-deserved game for Tom after all his hard work. He got a flight simulator game. It’s not a game that has any contest to it, but just one where you fly around the world. It’s not very realistic with its graphics, but after we play around with it some more, maybe we’ll get to like it.

Got a new dry-erase board at this store too, and it’s cute. In the corner of it, it’s got a little girl and boy sitting on a bench kissing and the girl has a pretty floral dress. I hated the one Dureen sent. It was of tiles. The kind you’d find in a bathroom. I hated getting the pen stuck in between tiles.

What else did we get there? I think that’s it. Tom’s gonna go back for a form he forgot to get so he can get a rebate on this game. Also, we need new scissors. The scissors around here are getting dull, so I’ll have him pick up a packet of three when he goes back.

Finally took a dump. Usually, I do that when I first get up. The prep kit says I should take several shits after I drink this shit I’ve got to drink tonight. Fun. Real fun.

Still no bad freeloader vibes.

Tuesday, December 15, 1998

 

Before I get into how horrible yesterday’s ordeal was, oh my fucking God! I was right and how terrifying too! As I told Tom, God’s not gonna let him fix this roof. No matter how many hours of work Tom puts himself through, God’s not gonna help him help us. No matter how smart he is or how much he slaves himself to fix this roof, it can’t be stopped. God is just so determined to hold us back in life and to inflict his wrath, fury, hatred, and insensitivity upon us. He just doesn’t care. He doesn’t give a shit at all! No matter how hard we try to get ahead, he just won’t let us.

When the storm began just after I woke up, I was so happy that I could just relax, go about my business as usual, and not have to play Leak and Bucket. Wrong! Dead wrong. The back room is leaking in its usual spot, along with a new spot near it, and there’s water dripping down the crack in the bathroom doorway.

Typical Arizona, too. A warm dry weekend, then it cools down and rains at the start of the week. These are the kinds of storms that go on for hours. It’s not gonna stop till at least 10:00-11:00 and we can never be sure where else it’ll leak. Just because it hasn’t leaked in a certain area, doesn’t mean it won’t later. In fact, I just looked up and noticed a water stain coming through a crack in the plaster above me. I moved into the living room to be where it’s safer, but no place is safe in this house. This house is making me more and more nervous. It’s like it’s possessed. Will God, the devil, or whatever is hexing this house, follow us when we move?

Would God have it leak today anyway, or does it have something to do with yesterday? But yesterday all I did was get some tests. I didn’t do anything to try to change myself. I didn’t go against the way he made me, so what’s the big deal? Is finding out information a sin too? Is that considered rebelling against God? If this has anything to do with me getting tests, then God help us if I did try to change myself. Will things get progressively worse for us if I kept going? Could this have to do with the fact that I’m down to 109 pounds (the craters have gone down a lot too)? Why? Why does God keep doing these kinds of things to us?

I decided to do my puzzles on the vanity table in the music room rather than on the red table I was gonna put back in the living room. I had taken my dolls off of this table (they were covered with plastic bags) and set them up around the house. Since I can’t put them back on the vanity cuz it’s littered with puzzle pieces, I put Summer Dream, Anne, Edie, Rapunzel and Patrice on my bedroom dresser. Then I put a garbage bag over them. Jessica, I don’t care about, so I just left her on the music room floor. I put Bailey in a bag of her own and set her down in the corner of the bedroom.

All I know is that I just want OUT of this fucking house! I don’t know if this shit is compensation for wonderful things to come, or if it’s a curse. It feels more like a curse to me, cuz things would be just wonderful enough if we didn’t have to keep on going through all this shit and keep getting set back with absolutely no help from God whatsoever.

No freeloader shit Sunday. All I saw Sunday evening was that white car with the rack on it and some skinny black lady putting Christmas presents in the trunk. I couldn’t tell for sure if this was Miss Bitch. The hair and face didn’t look right for the bitch, but whoever it was was totally anorexic and it was so obvious that it was a drug-induced skinniness too. So, this car left and then it came back and it appeared that someone was taking presents out of the trunk, but I couldn’t tell for sure. I just hope they stick to tradition and don’t do Christmas here. How can this bitch afford to buy all these gifts anyway? With drug sale money? Anyway, this car left again for the last time, then the cock came and went, and that’s it.

Yesterday was weird, cuz Bill left before the cock came. Why would he leave the kid alone like that?

In a little while, I’ll get into yesterday. It’s only 9:23 now and I hear the rain picking up again, so I’m too nervous to concentrate on writing.

Later…

Thank God! It’s over. It’s brightening up out there and the barometer’s coming up. But what are we gonna do the next time it rains? And the next? And the next? And the next? How much worse will this get with each rainfall, too?

I guess it’ll be a while before Tom comes home, so I’ll get into yesterday’s torture.

Actually, I should start with Sunday night. The people at Genesis are really incompetent and I hope I never have to go back there again. Not only did they tell Vicki I could eat normally up till midnight, which was a lie cuz I had to have just liquids the day before, but they also said in their prep kit instructions that I’ll have “several bowel movements a few hours after drinking the drink.” Wrong! More like “several bouts of diarrhea 5½ hours after drinking the drink, and then again later. Both bouts of diarrhea will be after you’ve gone to bed and will wake you up, too.” I took the drink at 6 PM and was slightly nauseous, but was asleep by 9:30. At 11:30, the pains woke me and I nearly puked and had the runs for about 15 minutes. I fell back asleep till the runs woke me again at 2:30. I was up with that for about a half-hour, then I went back to bed till Tom got me up at 6:45. Then I had to go without my coffee, suffering from my growling, hungry belly, shove a suppository up my ass, and deal with my last bout of the runs 15 minutes later.

First we had to wait forever for the receptionist when we got there, then we had to go upstairs and wait forever too, to the sound of four obnoxious black kids. Those fucking blacks, man, I swear! I don’t know what I hate more, blacks or Hispanics.

This lady, who went back and forth between being sweet and nice to a bitch, eventually took me in and to a dressing room where I had to strip and put my shoes and clothes in a basket, along with my purse. I put a Johnny on with it open in the back and one with it open in the front.

They wouldn’t allow Tom in for either exam due to the radiation.

So I was put on a hard metal table where the girl took some pictures of my kidneys, then left the room. When she came back, she told me that the technician didn’t see how this test was relevant to fertility testing, so they were gonna have me do an ultrasound instead and then I didn’t have to worry about having an IV too. I didn’t realize an IV would be included in this test, but as Tom pointed out, we should’ve known by the name of the test - IVP kidney.

Then I started getting really frustrated. First it was the waiting time, and now the finding out things at the last minute and being told one thing only to find out another, and now I had just gone and got myself sick all night long for nothing! But then she reassured me I didn’t waste my time, cuz the prep kit helps with the HSG.

So, out I go to sit and wait some more. This time, though, I waited in the hall where the exam rooms were, and they let Tom come join me.

The lady called me again saying they couldn’t get a hold of my doctor, and to come with her. I stalled for a minute cuz I was confused. Then she firmly told me, “Come here. I don’t want to discuss this here. Let’s discuss it in the room.”

Back in the room, she told me they were gonna go ahead with the IVP since they couldn’t reach the doctor. All this waiting and getting jerked around was getting to me! Was God trying to tell me something? Was it for losing weight? Anyway, she misfired when trying to get the fucking IV in, so she called in this butch to do it. Even now as a non-smoker, my veins are still small. She couldn’t find a vein in my left arm, so after what took forever, she got an IV in the right arm. Then the lady injected a dye in my veins that was supposed to make the kidneys show up, I guess, and then the IV slipped out. At that point, I was like - forget it. It’s just not meant to be. But she said she had time to take pictures if she hurried. She took pictures and I asked how they were. She said she could see what she needed to see, but then she got all irritated that I would ask her what the scoop was with the kidneys since that’s for the doctor to tell me.

All the while I was with her, there was this screaming baby in a nearby room. Totally obnoxious too, and this thing held things up, I guess, cuz once again, Tom and I had to wait forever between kidney and female exams.

The only funny thing about it was when Tom said that at least they can’t miss when it comes to the female part of it like they did with the IV. No, but it sure didn’t tickle!

I went in with some other lady. It was a big, ugly room with that same hard metal table. Not even a little tiny bit of cushioning for comfort. She told me if I thought it would be bad, it’d be horrible. Well, she was kind of close, cuz it was definitely a little more than just uncomfortable. It was crossing the border into being painful, with quite the cramps! The first part of the exam was like a regular exam, then it turned into a really bad period. The doctor came in and he was friendly, but a little rough for being the male that he was. He kind of poked, pushed, and rubbed a little hard when soaping up my crotch. Then he inserted a speculum and cleaned off the cervix area, which caused some cramping. He put some cream on the cervix that’s supposed to numb that, but I don’t think it did any good, cuz I felt that tube go in that he inserted in my cervix! This numbing stuff also did nothing for the uterus and its cramping. I also thought I was gonna puke at one point too. I couldn’t see much on the monitor. The doctor agreed, unlike that first woman, to tell me his findings.

I didn’t know I’d have to do this, but I had to roll over onto my side for side shots, with my legs spread, my crotch pried open, and the cramps and nausea killing me. Then he took the tube and speculum out of me and they took one last picture of me from behind as I lay on my stomach, then I got dressed and left.

As I was having this done, I realized I could never handle in-vitro. I’d think they’d have to dilate the cervix even more and that that procedure would last longer. Also, they don’t put fluid into the uterus, they poke it with the tools they use to insert the fertilized egg.

Also, when this woman reminded me that this is nothing compared to labor, it reinforced the fact that I could never ever have a kid. If I couldn’t handle a tiny tube in my cervix, I could never handle a baby passing through it, even if the cervix does automatically dilate much more on its own.

I can totally, totally see, like never before, why God sterilized me. I couldn’t handle a child if my life depended on it. It’s like - no wonder he sterilized me! I kind of figured as much all along (along with other reasons), but this really drove it into me.

Anyway, once again, yesterday proved women’s intuition is real. Or at least my vibes are. I always knew deep down in my gut that my fallopian tubes were fine and that it was more likely to be within the uterus and more than likely caused by the DES. It looks like I’m right so far, cuz my kidneys are fine, my tubes weren’t clogged, but I do have a horned uterus. Something that you commonly see in DES people. What was weird, though, was that the doctor told me it’s also found in non-DES people too. I asked him if this automatically meant I couldn’t carry a kid and he said no, but he doesn’t know as much as Dr. Wells does and only she can tell me how severe this is. Even if it was totally irrelevant to conception, there’s always the chance that I don’t ovulate, my eggs are damaged, I have this bacteria in my fluids that kills sperm, or that my hormones are screwy, or that his sperm is fucked, but you know I highly doubt that one. My first guess is that the problem lies within the uterus. My second guess would be my eggs, and my last guess would be hormones. If I don’t hear from the doctor about the tests by Friday, I’ll call her.

In the end, though, no matter what is or isn’t wrong with me, and no matter what I feel about it, I know I’ll never have a kid. Not with a husband that cums so rarely and certainly not with God making sure this never happens. Some would ask if I felt that the reason I never conceived is due to how little Tom cums, but no. I never would have or will conceive no matter if he cums a little or a lot.

Although Tom couldn’t find much online about horned uteruses (he hasn’t done a very extensive search yet either, he says) he read up on hormone problems, a fertility clinic in Phoenix that covers diagnostics, but not treatments, and how misshapen uteruses can be surgically corrected. The idea of having surgery is less scary to me than having anything done while I’m awake. That’s for sure! That was really sweet of him to do this research, though.

Another thing he said he read was that they suggest taking Ibuprofen a couple of hours before the HSG test to ward off the cramps. That just goes to show how incompetent these fucks at Genesis are. There were others that were upset with them too, Tom said. He overheard people upset over their technicians questioning the tests that were ordered and how they wanted to bitch to the supervisor about it. I agree with Tom when he said that these fucking technicians shouldn’t question doctor’s orders like they did with me. They should just do what they’re told to do, but I guess some people like to challenge and argue with others.

I called and told Tammy about yesterday, and I sent an email to Evie and Marla. Marla will relay the news to Linda, I guess. I typed it up in Kim’s next letter. I’m adding on bit by bit and when I think there’s enough there, I’ll print it out for her.

I really hit the food after my grueling ordeal. Got a burger and a slice of cheesecake, had a TV dinner, and even some popcorn. Had some fries and another slice of cheesecake today too, and poor Tom, who didn’t want to eat out again today too (the roof fucked our plans up as usual), got something. I felt really bad and felt like a half-assed wife for not cooking more often, but he said he’s the one who does the grocery shopping. It’s his fault he didn’t get anything, but it’s just that he’s been so preoccupied with the roof. Yeah, our whole lives are that roof! That fucking mother-fucking roof!! Godfuckingdamn this roof to hell!!

He was going to go to the grocery store after work, then come home and take me to a few stores for those nails I wrote about, and for scissors, the rebate, and the ramps to the cage.

Thanks to this fucking roof that always delays things and sets us back just when it looks like we’re gonna finally get ahead and be able to move on to other things (although I told him I vibed that this roof is unfixable for him), he came straight home and went up in the attic. He feels that these leaks came through from where the cooler and AC connect to the house. He feels that the stuff he put around these openings to seal it from rain, didn’t have time to dry, so we went and got this stuff today that says you can apply it even if it’s raining.

It won’t work. Nothing will stop this leaking. I don’t know if this house is possessed by some evil spirit, if it’s God, the devil, or what, but it ain’t going away. We’re cursed with it in this house, and God only knows if the problem will follow us when we move. Or take on some other form. Meaning, maybe when we have the nicer, newer house, he’ll give us health problems for it.

I just hope that the roof shit doesn’t get worse due to the testing. Or cuz of the weight loss. I also wonder if the return of Caddy Kid means anything. I know he comes and goes, but the fact that he came at this time, makes me wonder. Maybe I’m just paranoid. I hope so. Better to be paranoid and worry for nothing, than to worry for a reason.

We had yet another new problem with this old fucked up house, but Tom took care of it in a few minutes. As you know, we only have a few doors here that open and close normally, so we didn’t need to find the bathroom door sticking all of a sudden since we had enough going on. Guess our kick-ass heater expanded the wood, but he sanded it down really well.

Anyway, you know me. I’ll go from 109 pounds to 115 pounds or higher if I eat any more than 800-1200 calories a day, so it’s back to my usual diet plan.

I guess we’ll be going out tomorrow to Walgreens and Staples to get the stuff we want, although I don’t think we’ll be getting the ramps. The stores I called didn’t have them, and Tom had trouble connecting to their site on AOL, so who knows when we’ll get that? I’m talking about ramps, in case I didn’t mention it, to make it easier for the rats to use the top two floors of their cage. They won’t go up there at this point cuz of the straight tube.

I had Mickey out today. I held him a bit and let him run around on the bed.

Today I hemmed a pair of pants, did some laundry, the dishes, changed the bed, and did other odds and ends around the house.

My shows are on tonight. The Medical Detectives and The FBI Case Files.

Later…

As long as Tom continues to be the supportive person he’s been, and as long as he’s OK with going “all the way,” so to speak, I’d like to take care of unfinished business and keep going with this fertility stuff unless something out of my control comes up to stop me. He said we have an agreement, he’ll still cum regularly, and he’ll be honest about it, but I know better. Still, I need to keep on going till the end, whatever and wherever the end may be. I’m kind of going to go into this as if I want a kid and not just information. That way, if I change my mind in five years (as long as he’s willing to cum and have the kid) I can have one if I can be fixed and if God will let me and turn me into quite the toughie that I’m not, but like I said, none of this is gonna happen. I don’t see it, but fortunately, I’m still OK with it. I look forward to life and freedom unless something ever did happen to change that and if it did, I’d just try to deal with it as best I could. Meanwhile, even though I awoke glad I went through the HSG as tough as it was, I’m not finished yet and if not myself alone, then destiny too, is pushing me onward still till I’m done. Tom understands this feeling of unfinished business. Especially without hearing what the doctor has to say about all this.

Wednesday, December 16, 1998

 

Thankfully, it hasn’t rained today like they said it might.

I guess we’re gonna be going out later.

Later…

Tom was offered a job in a different department being a “working boss” versus an office boss, in two different areas. The pro is that he could have his raise of about 45 cents now, rather than in April, but the con is the hours. The hours would make it tough to take me or his mom to appointments. Mary has no problems taking Ma to afternoon appointments, but mornings are tough for her. So, he’s probably gonna turn the offer down. My vibe is that he won’t be making any changes at the bank till right around when we move, and he’ll be at the bank altogether for 2-5 more years.

We went to Staples and got a pack of three scissors and to Walgreens where I got more glitter nail polish, so now I have three. One has magenta and red glitter, one has purple and green, and one has blue and silver. It’ll be a while before I use these, though, cuz I now have airbrushed fake nails on. They’re red with black curvy lines that turn white at the tips. Next time, I’m gonna get the nail art kit where you draw your own designs.

Anyway, these do take some getting used to. It’s amazing I can type at all. Unwaxing and waxing up my braces is tougher, but it’ll only help to keep me from eating more than I should. I’ll only eat now when I’m really hungry. Gotta use my knuckles when using the touchpad on the microwave. They were really long. Totally daggers! So I trimmed them down. I also rounded them off to make them look more natural. They came squared off at the tips and I hate that. They’ve really come a long way with nail glue. In the past, these would all fall off in no time. It takes no time at all to glue the nails on. These aren’t the kinds you file into your own nail. Filing to make them fit well is what takes a long time. I scanned/printed one of my hands to show the nails to Tammy. Tammy would hate something like this. Not long nails, but the designs. She’s never been into loud, colorful, artistic, creative stuff. I also printed a copy for Tom, since I put them on after he crashed and will be going to bed when he gets up.

As I knew would be the case, I didn’t shit today or yesterday. Not after all those runs! Besides, my body’s gonna do everything it can to get back above 110 pounds. Well, it’s doing a fine job so far cuz I woke up at 110½. I was sort of surprised, though. I thought I’d be back to 112 or 113. Tomorrow I will be.

Thought up a wonderful piece of bullshit for the freeloader’s excerpts. One that goes something like this: As I was putting out mail, Bill was wiping his car windows and he called out hello to me. I said hello back and we made pleasant small talk for a few minutes. Then he said he had to go pick up his daughter. I lied and said we were on friendly terms at last, so could I please go with him? She’d like that. He said sure, but believe me, she wasn’t the least bit happy to see me!

Later…

What’s going on, cock? What the fuck were you just doing here for an hour and a half? Making plans to come back? You’ll be sorry if you do! Mark my words, asshole!

Yeah, Bill picked up Bitch, brought it back, and the fucking cock pulled in at 6:00, took something out of its trunk, and didn’t pull out till 7:30. Still no music, fortunately for the bitch and for all of them, but nobody exchanges that many Christmas presents. Could it be a late birthday present for the mistake? Or was it hauling its shit over here? Six months is a good length of time to back off when you’re caught being where you’re not supposed to be, so what’s it gonna do now? Come back, keep the music off, but slam doors again several times a day? I don’t think so! El cocko, you will never again live next to me. Never!

Just when it had been wonderfully quiet around here as far as stereos go, it’s horrendous again. And again, it’s a hell of a coincidence that it starts back up again the very day I lose weight and rebel against God. Well, my weight will naturally go back up, so curb some of these stereos, OK God?

Doors, toilets, and roofs - it never fucking ends! I got so sick of playing toilet that I took the lid off the toilet, and that’s how it’ll stay while we’re still here. That way, when it gets hung up and when jiggling the handle doesn’t work, I can just reach in and fix it. This fucking toilet needs another part, and Tom mentioned replacing the whole fucking thing, but I’d just hex that too. I told him to use his best judgment. He knows more about this shit than I do, and I don’t want to make my life one big toilet debate. This is its third fucking problem. First it flushed too sluggishly, then it leaked, and now this!

Thursday, December 17, 1998

 

Got an email from Marla and Evie in regard to my testing and questioning how I could handle a kid if that had been meant to be. They’re jumping the gun, though, and making false assumptions by getting it into their minds that we’re gonna have a kid. We’re not, and I told them so. I’m just trying to get info.

Marla told me she’d print out my message for Linda when she sees her this weekend. They live 20 minutes apart. She and Linda also told me something I didn’t know. She said contractions don’t feel like period cramps. That’s nice to know. I hate cramps! They’re just about the worst. They also told me that after the labor pains peak, you don’t feel pain. All you feel is like you have to take a shit, then the baby comes out. Really? But what about the pain of it going through the cervix and vagina? They all say it’s worth it and quickly forgotten. Evie said she was too late in getting to the hospital to take any meds, but she survived. How can an hour and a half be too late? Evie also said she’d hang onto some old maternity things for me, which I told her not to do. I told her a child isn’t meant to be. Period. But I was now OK with that and I know that this only means that God has other plans for me. Not just that I couldn’t handle a child (she said God would help me through the pain of that and not let me hurt for too long). I can’t let myself get hooked back into this child thing. I don’t want to rekindle old dreams that can never be brought to reality. If they fixed me tomorrow and if God suddenly didn’t care if I had a kid or not, my husband still does. He would never allow me to conceive. He would never cum again and if he did, he’d make sure to do it at a safe time.

What if they said I needed in vitro? I mean, what would he do? Feel so trapped and so cornered, say he’ll go along with it, but then refuse to let them have his cum so I could never have this done? Not that I would, cuz I couldn’t handle it.

Well, no matter what the doctor tells me when I hear from her, my destiny is my freedom and my husband. Building that dream house, buying things, my critters, etc.

Later…

Tom brought home some more of that stuff to seal around the AC and cooler. He said yes, the rain did wash the other sealer away as he suspected. I’ll still never believe that this leaking can be stopped without seeing it first. Seeing is believing for me.

He said we’re gonna have to keep the dumpster through the weekend (we were gonna have it out of here by the weekend) and that maybe he’ll call them Saturday.

He also bought a new toilet kit. Last time, we bought a new handle, but this time he bought a new sealer. The part that seals up the hole for when the water fills, and that flaps up to let the water out.

In case I didn’t mention this, I’ve given Tom all the change I’ve been saving up so he can buy the headphones he wants for Christmas. There’s a little extra, cuz the headphones only cost about $30. These are wireless too, but they’re the kind you need to be in the same room with whatever you’re using them in. This way, we can hook the ones where you don’t need to be to my stereo, so I can use these headphones to listen to music if I want to while he’s got the TV headphones on. He’s gonna use the change at the grocery store and take other money for the headphones. There’s a machine there that counts change and gives you bills for it. He’ll let me know just how much money was there since we didn’t count it all.

Andy left a message Tuesday that I didn’t even know Tom saved for me. Sometimes I forget to check for saved messages. Anyway, Andy was asking me to be more specific about the testing and asked if I can have kids or not. That was sweet of him to care enough to ask. I know these things gross him out too, so I had been being careful with what I said. I told him that under no circumstances whatsoever would God allow me a child, and that although my uterus doesn’t look great, I don’t know enough at this point. All I’m trying to do now is seek out info.

I reminded Evie about this too, who’s jumping the gun by saying she’s still got some maternity clothes around that she’ll hang onto for me. Then Tom reminded me that I could fit into Evie’s regular clothes if I were nine months pregnant, she’s so big.

Tom also feels that my fallopian tubes still could’ve been blocked and that the dye flushed any blockage out. He said they can’t always tell if your tubes are blocked. My tubes weren’t blocked. I just know they weren’t.

After I told Tom that I was confused and unsure of what to do next, he made a so-called deal with me. I told him that I still feel just as controlled by him as I do by God and that if I got fixed and decided I wanted to conceive, and if God suddenly didn’t care whether or not I conceived, he’d never let me. He’d play God with my life. So, I was thinking of canceling this fertility thing, since as he agreed, we need the sex to be normal for this. Even if he wasn’t full of it, and even if he had cum all along, he hasn’t cum since the appointment and roof. There are just too many things he needs to fix and if God hadn’t sealed my fate as far as a kid goes, he has, so what the hell? Most women who are sterile can go get fixed and have a normal enough sex life with which to conceive. But I’m a unique case within a unique case. Totally controlled by both Tom and God. What they say goes. Tom’s the one with the sperm, he knows it, and God isn’t about to step in and make Tom squirt his cum into me regularly. Then he told me to just give us the weekend to have sex now that my tubes could be unblocked and now that I’m mid-cycle, see what it’s like, then make a decision. I’ve been through these so-called deals with him before, and the wait-and-see crap. But I have seen. First of all, he’s just gonna lie and say he came when he didn’t, and if he did, one weekend of him cumming isn’t gonna cut it. He needs to cum more than three times a year for him to say he’s cumming regularly and be telling the truth. He also needs to come more than that in order to leave it up to God to decide if I should conceive and not be manipulating and trying to control things.

I wonder, though, about another possibility. Maybe he will admit he didn’t cum this weekend. Or maybe he’ll boldly look me in the eye and lie and say he did. Is he contemplating or planning on admitting he didn’t cum with the hopes of me canceling the fertility testing cuz of it? Could be. Maybe I should insist he came and let him go along with it. If he went along with it in the past, why not now? Then we won’t have to discuss it. A part of me wishes I never bothered letting him know I knew all along he wasn’t cumming. I knew he’d either make an excuse for lying or just plain old deny it. That’s the awful thing about this otherwise wonderful man who’s one in millions. If you confront him with something you don’t think, but you know, he lied to you about, he’ll cry don’t pick on me! Or he’ll just boldly insist he is telling the truth when you know damn well he’s not. He’s really bold. Some people are like that, though. They think that if they’re caught in a lie, don’t make excuses for it, just deny it. Denial is easy, isn’t it?

I’m still OK with never having a child. I have enough other things to live for and I want to stay with my husband forever no matter what, but it’s the lies, the false promises, and the saying one thing and doing another that I’m fed up with. He reminded me today how much I prefer actions to talk, so let’s do our deal and all that. But he won’t put his actions where his mouth is. He’ll say one thing and do another, or he’ll lie about it and insist he did what he said he’d do when he really didn’t.

Later…

Right on schedule. Bill’s gone to get the bitch. Will the cock visit for an hour and a half tonight?

I read Tom my piece of bullshit on how I went to pick up the bitch with Bill and she flipped over it while I laughed. Then they drove to the police station and she ended up getting arrested for being hysterical. I denied riding with them and said they were following me, and out of fear, I came to the PD. He got a kick out of it.

It’s nice not having the toilet hang up and it’s nice being able to just quickly touch the button and have it flush. Before, I had to hold it in for several seconds. I’m gonna enjoy this toilet while it works, cuz I know it’s just a matter of time before it goes on the fritz again.

Later…

Oh, God! The cock’s here. In the driveway again like yesterday. He never parks in the driveway on weekdays. That tells me something that I don’t like and that worries me. I can’t believe I didn’t hear any door slamming. I wouldn’t know it was here if I didn’t look, but that’s the way it should be.

This is day three and still no dump. Damn, that shit they gave me really cleaned me out! Amazingly, though, I woke up at 110 pounds and not the 112-113 I expected to wake up at. What’s gonna happen, though? Is my body gonna wait till it is back up to 112-113 pounds before it shits?

It helps to write about some things that bother me, but this one’s a little tougher. Our fucking lying whore of a president bombed Iraq. And it’s so childish too, cuz he’s doing it for the wrong reasons. He claims it’s because they refused to cooperate with weapons inspections, and they did have some weapons that could’ve harmed people nearby, and they are a fucked up country, but it’s all over his not wanting to be impeached and brought to trial for lying about having oral sex with that 21-year-old. He figures this will stall impeachment. So, innocent children have to die because he had to get his dick sucked by some young thing and he can’t own up to it and deal with it? That’s great. That’s just really great. Why is sex always so destructive?! I wish I could say that in this slut’s case, what goes around will come around and he’ll be assassinated, but I know he won’t. Nope. He’ll live a long, healthy, free life full of all kinds of money, sex, fun and power.

Once again, this cock is hanging around a little too long to be playing daddy. More like banging its bitch and making plans to come back. I didn’t see or hear anything being unloaded, but like I said, if it’s gonna be stupid enough to come back and get its bitch evicted, let it.

Later…

The cock just left. So it was here an hour and 15 minutes tonight instead of an hour and a half, huh? About 15 minutes before it left, I heard two car doors, but because it was dark, I couldn’t tell if it took something out of its car or if it put something in its car. He used to do this all the time he lived here, though - come out and play car door six times a day. It can’t even be here an hour and not play doors!

Anyway, I think it’s testing me and the city and getting a feel for things to see if it’s really safe enough to return. By parking in the driveway, he can see if the city questions it before moving in and really getting everybody into trouble, and also see if I complain about it. Once he feels the coast is clear, in it’ll come. Although, it is parking in the driveway after business hours. We’ll just have to wait and see.

Uh-oh. I just peeked out and saw the bitch’s front light on. She doesn’t usually keep that light on unless she’s either expecting company or currently has company over. Well bitch, your company just left. A little slow at cutting the light? Or are you expecting another round?

Later…

I think I know why I heard two door slams, then one more when it left. The bitch is early to bed, early to rise during the week, but not this early. There are no lights on inside the house. Just the porch, so I think the first two slams were her and Mistake getting in the car. Then for whatever reason, Mr. Cock didn’t come out for 15 minutes later, then they all split. So, Bitch and Mistake should be pulling in with Mr. Fuck sometime before 9 PM, then it’s off to la-la land!

Friday, December 18, 1998

 

I was right about the bitch. It was out with its cock last night. It came in around 10 PM.

I asked Tom if he thought the cock was on its way back in and he said no. He said he thinks they probably went out to pick out a Christmas present for their mistake together, and because the stores are mobbed at this time of year, it took them hours.

At 1:30 PM today, I saw the cock, the kid, and some other guy get out of the cock’s car, which was parked in the street since that was during business hours. El Cocko was wearing a red sports shirt. Guess as Tom said, he has some time off, since people get time off at this time of year. The dude he was with was little. Sort of short and very thin. He had on tight jeans, a black leather jacket, and a cowboy-type hat. I think it was black with a wide brim. Both guys were carrying stuff. Maybe food. They weren’t here long.

At 4:30 PM, Bill left as usual, and returned at 5:22. He should be pulling out any sec now, then the cock should show up for an hour or two.

I hope Tom’s right when he says it’s very unlikely that this country will be bombed in our lifetime since we’re the ones with all the bombs and resources to make them. Iraq can’t bomb us back now, but I hope to hell he’s right and that they don’t find a way to develop the technology to bomb us in 15 years.

I got a message from Evie and called her back. It seems good old Nora is trying to dump Jennifer off on some family member. She called Evie all hysterical from work and said she was gonna call us, but she hasn’t wasted her time yet. Evie told her she didn’t think it’d be good for Jennifer to be placed in different places temporarily. She thinks she should be adopted. The problem with adopting, though, is that no one wants older kids. If they’re more than a day old, they don’t want them. Also, Jennifer’s an aggressive, violent, hyper bitch, thanks to her wonderful mom, so no one wants her. She keeps getting kicked out of the foster homes they stick her in. Evie doesn’t want her beating up on her kids.

I knew Tom was wrong too, when he said they said Pam could never have Jennifer back under any circumstances. They told her she could have her back either in 90 days or if she could provide a home for her. As I told Tom, our lovely system will see to it that Pam gets Jennifer back, even though they both should be killed. Jennifer should be killed cuz her future is already doomed, and people like Pam should be killed cuz they’re sick fucks. Since they’re not gonna kill her, why don’t they order her to have her tubes tied and to stay away from all children for the rest of her life, no matter what her life is like? They should! She’s not in the psyche ward anymore, either. She’s in a shelter and able to have another kid now. She’ll be getting pregnant again anytime now, trust me. You take a kid away from its mother and the mother turns right around and has more. It happens all the time.

Anyway, Tom would never go for a calm kid in here for a while, let alone one that wild, and I totally agree. Also, I meant it when I said that if I’m not good enough for my own kid, in God’s eyes, then I’m not good enough for someone else’s, even if it was just for a little while. Lisa would’ve been different cuz of her age.

Bill left just a few minutes ago. Mr. Cocko shall be pulling in any sec.

I woke at 109 pounds and still haven’t shit, either. Tom says that’s normal after taking the enema. Yeah, I’ll shit when I shit. Meanwhile, I’m surprised I’m not back between 112-115 pounds.

Later…

Miss Bitch is having company tonight. The front light’s on. Unless that thunk I just heard was someone picking her up. Might’ve been the recycle bin cover, but I don’t know. It leaves the light on when it’s expecting company, has company or is going out. I looked out front and in the carport, but I didn’t see a car and I didn’t see headlights shining on the music room wall where I was just now, so I’d guess she dumped some shit in her bin, and is waiting for her cock. After all, the lights are on over there, too. So someone’s there.

I decided to take a break from my near-starving regimen and have a couple of Tom’s pork chops he got. Well, they were good, but now the guilt’s set in and I feel like I automatically gained 5 pounds. I feel fat! It was good to fill up, though. I haven’t been that full in a long time, although nowadays, it doesn’t last long with me. Anyway, since I already blew it today and had over 1000 calories (those pork chops alone were about 1000 calories right there), I won’t worry about how many 70-calorie cups of coffee I have for the remainder of the night. Tomorrow, I gotta get back on track. Don’t want to throw all my hard work away. I had to get sick for most of this! Maybe, though, I should take a suppository once a week or so. At least it works 15 minutes later and not 5 hours later when you’re asleep. It’s funny how it’s after I stop walking that I lose more weight.

Evie said what I figured she’d say - she’s nowhere near her goal of 125 pounds for Christmas. She only lost about 15 pounds, which would put her around 160, and has gained 4 pounds back. Yeah, that’s the life of a mother for you. Also, maybe she shovels thousands of calories a day into her mouth. Who knows? I’m not there to see how she eats.

Later…

I think the bitch is out somewhere. After I heard the thunk of what I thought was a car door, I saw shadows moving over there in front. The light’s still on but there’s no car here, and also, it is dark inside. I can see two of her windows from the music room and the one in front is dark. The one in back, which is the kitchen, has a dim light shining through. So, someone got in a car when I heard the thunk, the shadows were caused by someone else going back in to kill most of the lights, or coming out after just doing so, then they took off.

Later…

Bitch still isn’t back yet.

Just watched L.A. Detectives which was a dumb thing to do. It only depressed me to see a case of this guy who shot his kids, his wife, then himself. Ain’t God just wonderful? Yeah, it just makes me hate and fear him all the more knowing he could allow this to happen. At least he allowed the guy to shoot himself in the end. 

Now that’s justice.

Saturday, December 19, 1998

 

Didn’t hear the bitch return last night, but when I peeked out at around 11 PM, the light was off.

The cock’s here now. It’s been here since noon when I got up. I just saw it come out and fumble with something in the backseat, then it got out and headed back into the house.

Woke up at 110 pounds. Two more pounds, then I can shit.

Later…

Sunshine and Lollipops is here! Can you believe she only took 17 days to get here? She’s a cutie. Even cuter than in her catalog with her brown pigtails, eyes, and happy smile (the dolls seem to look better in person). She’s my first with pigtails, socks, the style of shoes she wears, a yellow dress, freckles, and the toothy smile she’s got. You can see her top teeth. But as you know, I have lousy doll luck. I can’t quite pose her as her picture shows her posed, but it’s a minor thing, and it’s certainly not worth sending her back over. She’s got a big lollipop which she holds and two little ones in her dress pocket. Just like I did with Patrice and Summer Dream, the dolls I got from Ashton-Drake, I scanned their certificates of authenticity and sent their pictures to Tammy so she could get an idea of some of the dolls I collect.

I’ve decided that after I get that angel doll if I get her, I’m gonna hang up the porcelain doll collecting for a while and get some of those Barbie dolls after all. I just love their outfits. At least they range from $12-$20, rather than $40-$300, as my porcelain dolls do.

At 3:30, the bitch and cock left. I think their great big mistake went along, too. They must’ve gone to some party, cuz the bitch was pretty decked out in a short black skirt, and what appeared to be a maroon velour top. A half-hour ago at 9:00, a white car came in and I heard several door slams. Ever since then, the front light’s been on, so who knows if she’s expecting someone, or what.

Tom said that the reason there haven’t been ball games lately may be cuz of the roofing. They may have feared that the kids will get hit with the roofing shit he’d toss down. He almost nailed the mailman good. Whatever, but as soon as the freeloaders see the dumpster gone and realize that he’s all done, then yes, it’ll be payback time as far as the noise department is concerned, and since they can’t do music anymore and get away with it, they’ll send the kids and their fucking basketballs after us. How sick; to use kids to harass adults.

For the third or fourth time since putting these airbrushed nails on, one popped off. I got sick of them, being the pain in the ass that they are, and decided to give myself a break from them. I popped most of them off after a little tugging, but I had to use the acetone stuff to get rid of the rest. Still, it was different, and it was fun and I’ll probably do this every now and then. For now, I’ve got my glitter polish on.

Tom came today! Yeah, he actually came, but right now, I’m tired of writing and I think I’ll go read.

Sunday, December 20, 1998

 

As I last said - the freeloader’s front light was on last night at 9:00 when the white car came in. At 11:00, I saw it was still on and wondered if the bitch forgot to turn it off, but nope. The white car came in again just after midnight, then that was it.

At 6:30 today, the white car came in, then split, but the light was still on so I knew someone else would be coming in. At 7:20, Bill came in, left, then returned at 8:15. Then the light went off. So, she’s tucked in for the night. I guess he took his bitch daughter grocery shopping. It was dark, but it looked like those could’ve been grocery bags, anyway. I can also tell in the dark who’s who. I can tell Bill’s slow shuffle from the bitch’s aggressive walk. The bitch almost bounces when she walks, she’s so furious half the time! It’s like a bouncy trot. Just about ready to break into a run.

I didn’t see the cock’s car today. Did it go out of town for Christmas? Well, if I don’t see it tomorrow, then I probably could assume it did, since it doesn’t stay away more than two days lately.

The tree in front of their house serves as a landmark for nighttime spying. The streetlight casts light upon it so I can see if there’s a car there by how much of the tree I can see. Usually, it’s lit up enough to see the silhouette and metallic gleam of any car that might be parked there at night without the tree, but the tree helps, anyway. The landmark tree also tells me if their front light is on since we can’t see their front door/porch from our front door/living room window. I can tell by how bright the light reflects off the tree if it’s on or not.

Cindy left a message and Tom called her back. She just wanted to know about wires for putting in a phone jack. I’m surprised she didn’t need Tom to come over and do something for her.

We finally got Tammy and the girl’s Chanukah T-shirts done, although it’s a little late. I told them it may be a little late, though. I picked out the pictures, printed them out, decided who’d get which ones, then Tom ironed them on. He did a great job. They got a mix of pictures of themselves, us, and even a couple of Nana and Pa. I didn’t do any of our pets.

Tom will be picking up mailbags tomorrow for us to mail these out.

We’ll also be wrapping up Ma’s electric stapler he got her.

In Evie’s email to me, she said she brought Christmas presents over to Ma’s house, so we can pick ours up anytime, and she’s willing to do refills if we like it. Well, I don’t know what it is, but Tom thinks it’s food. I wouldn’t be surprised. Just when I have to be so strict with my calorie intake, here comes all kinds of junk!

I woke up at 110 pounds and just when I was wondering if I should pig out and up to 112 so I could shit, I shit. Not very much, but it’s a start.

I typed up Tom a half-wacky, half-serious letter as an excuse to show him my “hidden message.” I typed the letter as I usually would, then I highlighted and changed the color of letters throughout the page to form the words I love you. Did this in one of the freeloader’s pages too, but I certainly didn’t make the words I love you. I just did the bitch’s last name.

Tom’s really put a dent in the cleanup around here. Well, maybe not the side yet, but the front and the back. He even trimmed the front tree! I never thought he would till the day before we moved. It looks much better, and now I can see more when spying. I can see the street now, but before, I could only see part of it.

We didn’t have sex today, and I know his cumming will always be something he rarely does, but he sure did shock me with cumming yesterday! He said he should take Ibuprofen when we really want him to cum, cuz it helps with aches and pains and shit like that. He said he’s had this all his life. I wonder why? Anyway, why did he cum yesterday? To try to cover for his fears by cumming when I’m mid-cycle and after having that dye? Or cuz he knows my uterus is still as it is and that it cannot carry a child? Some other reason?

Well, I can’t say I’m not glad to know that yesterday’s fun didn’t get me pregnant. That’s not what I really want. What I really want is to spend my time and money on moving and buying things. Not put my time and money into a kid. He reminded me earlier that we need to save money after the 1st so we can move. I agree. Poor guy hasn’t even had time yet to go gambling or use his share of the money for fun things for himself. He has gotten a few things, though.

I didn’t call the doctor last Friday, cuz Tom suggested I don’t till I see how the sex goes this weekend, and then I can decide whether or not to carry on with this fertility thing. I may not even call them this week either, what with Christmas and all that going on this week. I may wait till after Christmas unless I hear from her.

As I told Tom, the truth, and his happiness are what matters to me. He doesn’t have to cum if he doesn’t want to. He just has to be honest about it.

Evie was reminding me once again how the odds were against her having kids, then she got married, having kids was the last thing on her mind, and then she found out she was pregnant. Yeah, yeah. I know these things happen to people, but other people. These things don’t happen to me. I know what she means by life being full of surprises, as I told her. I certainly didn’t expect to get married. I thought I’d be single and loveless all my life, but there are some things that just don’t happen to me. Not everything can happen to everyone. She also doesn’t know she’s dealing with a psychic here who knows these things. If yesterday’s sex was gonna spawn a child, I’d know it. I’d sense it.

I’m now reading Ghost Child by Duffy Stein and it’s great. Just the kind of story I like.

Did you know that these houses are so close that I can see the security light when it’s on two yards down where the dogs are from inside this house? Even when it’s not totally dark yet and even with the kitchen light on I can see it cuz it’s so bright. Thank God that’s not right next to us!

So are the freeloaders and the people with the dogs still friends? Neither of us has seen them socializing in quite a while and I wouldn’t be the least bit surprised if they had a fight.

In one of Evie’s little joke things she sends, there was this thing with trivial shit in it and one of the things said that beating your head in the wall burns up to 150 calories. This one cracked me up. Totally reminded me of Bob and how he’d do that to try to get Kim’s attention.

Monday, December 21, 1998

 

And now it’ll gradually get lighter earlier and darker later. I don’t really like that being in the city. In the city, that’s at least three extra hours that they could play ball, for example, when the days are longer.

Tom just ran out to pick me up some coffee and to get mailers for the T-shirts. They should get the shirts by Saturday.

Tom called to have the dumpster picked up. They’re gonna pick it up tomorrow, I guess, then send him a bill for the extra days he used it.

I’m not going to do much cleaning up in the backyard since he’s gonna be doing the back patio. The front’s all done, though.

I missed having my dolls set up, so I put them in places it’s never leaked before. I wanted them all in the same room so I can show them to Andy whenever he’s here again, and so I could easily grab them all and cover them if it does start leaking where I put them.

Later…

This bitch next door looks like she has some time off. I haven’t seen the cock’s car, so he may have gone out of town. Meanwhile, the bitch appears to have time off, like I said, so I don’t know why she didn’t go with him. Bill wasn’t there when I peeked out this morning, and the big white car just dropped her off, which is a wee bit late if she had to get up early the next day. This white car is more like a Bronco or Blazer-type vehicle. It was also one of the loudest visitors as far as music goes, but thanks to the city, they were quiet. The light’s off now, so I guess that’s it for tonight, although the light was off earlier and I thought she was in for the night, so we’ll see.

I just hope to hell that she goes elsewhere for Christmas and for New Year’s Eve if she’s staying in town. I have a feeling, though, that since they’ll see the dumpster gone tomorrow, and since it’s Christmas, and since it’s been a while since there’s been a quick little show from over there to serve as a reminder of their existence, they’ll raise hell over here in regards to us and all our hammering. I think it may be like Easter, only minus the music. I think we’re talking lots of cars and door-slams, and certainly lots of screaming kids playing ball for hours. Thank God it’ll be dark at 5:30 and not 8:00!

When Tom got his jury summons, I figured I was next, since the last time mine came after he got his. His is for Phoenix, but mine’s for Mesa. He said to go ahead and send them a note asking for a dismissal, but he’ll bet I won’t get called for this anyway. Oh, they got a note alright. No more courts for me! I told them how I was unstable right now with personal problems and a bit bitter towards the courts for getting convicted of making prank phone calls in the early 90s.

Yesterday’s sleeping together didn’t go so well. It figures, huh? Maybe we ought to try using separate comforters when we sleep together, cuz the second time he woke me up was cuz I felt him pulling the covers across me. The first time was when he got into bed about five hours after I had crashed. We have a deal, though, that when I get to be about a week away from an appointment, we sleep separately. Thank God this man is so supportive, patient, understanding, and not your typical male!

Got a letter from Bob today. He said just what I expected he’d say, too. That he wasn’t too happy about the idea of her moving in with Walter since he’s jealous. And he wasn’t too thrilled that she’d take anything to enlarge her tits.

I improved Sunshine and Lollipops by semi-straightening her hair. It’s still curly, but I pulled the curls out a bit. This way, it looks more like she’s got two ponytails. Before, it was so bunched up that it looked more like loose curls. Also, her arm was out of position when I got her, as I mentioned. It’s supposed to be off to the side, but it’s more towards the front of her. Since I couldn’t fix her, I put her hand in one of her pockets to make it look like she’s reaching for another lollipop, and I like this much better.

Tuesday, December 22, 1998

 

Just called Tammy to let her know their Chanukah presents were on their way and to let me know if she gets them OK. She said she’s alone with Mark. The girls are in Florida with Bill and her ex-in-laws. I asked if they’d be stopping by you know who’s, but nope. I asked if they sent Chanukah presents for the girls and she said yes. I asked if she had them returned and she said no, they arrived when she was out. I warned her that they may use the girls to get at her, but she said they wouldn’t, they haven’t even called. I really believe, though, that someday they’ll kiss and make up and it’s too bad. If they do, and if Tammy pressures me to get all lovey-dovey with these people again, I’m gone. She can do what she wants and live her life, even if I don’t always agree with her ways, but I’ve got to do what I’ve got to do as well.

Later…

The phone rang and I saw it was from a payphone and figured it was either Andy or Mary calling to say they broke down and needed a ride. Well, it was Mary, but she didn’t break down. She was calling to let us know she brought Mom to the ER. She said something about an infection, CAT scans, and no bleeding in the brain, not to worry, and that she doesn’t know much right now but will call back later.

At first I thought of waking up Tom but then thought against it for two reasons. He has to work tonight, and also, there’s nothing he could do from what I heard in her message. I’m not gonna answer when she calls back, either. I’m gonna let her leave a message so Tom can hear what she has to say directly. I wouldn’t want to take a chance of misinterpreting her.

I don’t have any death vibes about Mom. I think she’ll be OK and with us till August or September of 2000. I’m just glad, for everyone’s sake, that she doesn’t live in that house anymore and that it’s sold!

Tom fixed the printer so it shows the ink status again. I like that better.

The dumpster’s gone now so I guess that’s the freeloader’s cue to get us back for all the noise.

Bill wasn’t here today. In fact, I haven’t seen any car since I got up at 1 PM. My current conclusion is that the cock did head out of the state and left the bitch behind. Why? Who knows? Meanwhile, the bitch, who obviously has time off, is spending her days elsewhere. Someone must be picking her up in the mornings and bringing her back at night. As soon as the sun goes down, I’ll see if I can see if her front light is on. If she’s out and doesn’t plan on coming back till after dark, the light should be on now. It’s a little unnerving knowing she has the whole week off, but thanks to the city and those letters, it’s not as unnerving as it could be! I’ll bet if she knew she could still get away with raising hell over there, she’d spend every day off doing so. Since she knows she can’t, this may be why she isn’t around very much during her days off. In fact, since we complained to the city, she does seem to be out much more often. She probably figures that since she can’t stay home and bother me along with her cronies, she may as well not even bother staying here too much. It probably pisses her off to stay here and be just a few feet away from someone she detests.

Another call from Mary just came in, so I’ll go hear what she has to say this time around.

Later…

All Mary had to say was that they were still in the ER, they were going to admit her, and as soon as she knew a room number she’d call back.

Changing the rats was a near disaster! I thought they’d stay out of the way, but nope. First Ratsy got in the way and I had to shoo him out of the way, then Mickey decided to hop on out and panic on me. It’s amazing his tail didn’t come off or that he didn’t escape! He started to run, then I caught him by the tail. He spun around and around like hell and I had to kind of toss him onto the upper levels of the cage. I finally got them cleaned, though, and rewarded them with cheese, lettuce, and their regular food. It also appears we don’t need to get them ramps or T-tubes for easier access to the upper levels. They’ve been going up there themselves lately.

No eating for me today. No more than half of a TV dinner I had and some Jell-O. I woke up at 111 pounds and climbing. I didn’t shit yesterday, but I did today, so that’ll help. Still, I ate more than I should’ve yesterday and the day before. Also, if Tom stops over at Ma’s tomorrow and finds that it is junk food that Evie’s made us, I want to watch it today so I can enjoy this junk food. If I stayed around 115 pounds for four months, does this mean I’ll stay around 110 pounds for six months or more?

As the days have passed since my testing at Genesis, I find myself less and less curious as to what the next step may be, and more and more finished with this subject. I’m not saying for sure I’m either gonna do this or do that, but I think I’m done with this chapter of my life. I really don’t want a child. I don’t want to give up my time and my freedom to a kid. I want to be with my husband, and I want to have the time, freedom, and money to buy things. I like to shop, and I like to collect things and that’s just how I am, selfish or not. No, it wouldn’t kill me if I couldn’t sing at 2 AM, but it’s still nice to know I can if I want to.

Another reason I think I’m done is that I think I got my answers. I suspected my uterus all along as being the reason I can’t have a kid, and it looks like I very well may have been right. Either way, the more I don’t want a kid, the less I care about the cause of my sterility.

Later…

The front light isn’t on and neither are their lights on in the house. I’d say she’s not home. She wouldn’t stay home these many hours without company. There’d have been cars coming and going if she’d been home since I got up.

Later…

Miss Bitch is definitely, definitely not home. The house is still dark both inside and out.

I went to check out doll catalogs online last night just to see what I could find, and oh my God! I found dolls way better than what you’d find in stores. They were just to die for! Sadly enough, though, they ranged from many hundreds to even many thousands of dollars! The clothes are similar to the ones in the stores and like what I’ve got, but what made these different was their size and reality. They were mostly around 30” and so realistic looking. They looked more like real photographs of people than dolls.

Later…

Mary just called again from home and said something about doing gallstone surgery on Mom.

Next door’s still dark and deserted. I haven’t heard any car doors, either.

Wednesday, December 23, 1998

 

I’m even surer that Miss Bitch is out of town, but won’t be totally sure until the night passes without any cars coming in. Again, once it’s dark I’ll see if I can see lights on, but we both think it’s out of town.

Tom saw something very weird next door yesterday. He said a red pickup was parked on the street and an odd-looking white woman and man got out, walked directly into the carport, then left a half-hour later although he didn’t actually see them leave. It was as if they knew no one was home, he said. But since when have they ever had white friends? And why would anyone, of any color, come over if they knew she was out? To check and make sure there was no vandalism? Or were these white supremacists? People who knew the house was empty and were scouting it out to break in? Who were they and why were they here?

Tom brought home a rum cake that a woman at work made, a card from her, and a card from some guy at work too. And Evie said I guessed right. It is food she’s got for us. Food, food, food! I awoke at 110 pounds, but I need to clean myself out my way and just have liquids for a day or two.

Tom thinks this is great and perfectly OK, and that’s that Dureen and Art sent his mom a Christmas card. I have mixed emotions about it. I know how impressed with Marge they were, but still, they need to move on and forget about anyone with the last name S, just like I’ve moved on. As I told Tom too, I’m probably gonna walk and not give Tammy our new number and address when we move. It’s best that I just wonder about Lisa for the rest of my life, rather than keep that last remaining tie to the past open. The past excludes friends like Andy and Kim. I mean family ties. It’s just that if I don’t fully sever all those ties, I can’t fully move on like I need to. Tom says it’s too soon to make any decisions like that. Maybe.

Later…

It’s dark and deserted next door. If she is gone, I hope she doesn’t come back till after the New Year and not just after Christmas. I looked back and from what I wrote, I think they do stay away till either New Year’s Day or the day after.

Andy left a message about the usual - not enough work at the temp agency. Basically, all he talks about these days is phones, work, and pot, so I figured it was one of them. He’s still getting high from what he told me, too. Anyway, I left him a message about Mom, which I’ll get into in a minute.

There was a call from Dr. Brown’s office asking if I had the IVP test. I told her I had that and the HSG on the 14th. She said she called Genesis and was told there was a record of me having an appointment that day, but nothing was written about it. So I told her how screwy they were, questioning the tests that were ordered, and how they got a new computer system. Tom said they’ll find it. She said maybe she called the wrong one. There’s more than one Genesis Imaging Center, so I told her the one I went to. What? Did God erase the test results from their computer system? Or are they just that fucked up at Genesis? As I told Tom, if they do lose all their info I’m not repeating these tests. She wondered if Dr. Wells got a report yet, but who knows? She could be out of town. I told her I wasn’t going to call her till after the holidays.

When I got up, Tom told me Mom was still delirious, still in pain, and no one knew for sure what was the cause of this and how to deal with it. So, according to messages we got from Mary, then from Evie, they are gonna do gallbladder surgery on Mom tomorrow morning at 8 AM, since they know she has gallstones, and since they gotta try something.

I went through my cards and pulled out a blank one for her which I turned into a little get-well card for her. Although she’s used the hell out of us since Dad died, I feel bad for her having to suffer like this. She’s still basically a much better person than your average person will ever be.

Thursday, December 24, 1998

 

Carol and Steven got a computer and emailed Tom the other day. He gave them my email address, and I went into the mail controls and added their email address to my list so that any messages they may send me can get through.

Tom thinks he knows who those people were in the red pickup that came next door two days ago. He thinks they’re people from the church the bitch goes to, coming to see if her lawn needed mowing. He thinks the church handles her lawn. I always did say the bitch only went to church to see what she could get from it, but why were they here for 45 minutes? I asked Tom. He said they were probably just standing around in back talking. Then the next day, today, the lawn was done. I told Tom he ought to go to church and cry needy so he can have his yard work done for him.

The house is still dark and deserted, so hopefully the little bitch shit will stay away till after the New Year.

I got an unexpected letter from Andy. It had a couple of Stevie pictures on it that I guess he printed out at work or at the college he goes to when he goes to browse the internet. It was full of the usual gibberish.

Now for my surprising news. I’m 108 pounds! Exactly what I was when I quit smoking. Just last night, though, I was 113 and had to take a water pill, so I can forget about shitting today. I’m having my bean soup today, so I can shit tomorrow.

I’m quite proud of myself for quitting smoking and losing weight. Both took serious discipline and very hard work.

Ma had her gallbladder removed this morning. It was very infected. Hopefully, this explains why she was in so much pain and why she was delirious. Her fever’s gone down, so that’s good, and fever is a sign of infection. She’ll probably be in the hospital for a few weeks, but at least she’ll be going home to Mary and Dave’s and not going home alone where it’s really hard on other family members who have to take time out of their daily lives to go see/help her get by.

When I got up, I saw Tom’s Christmas card from Mom on the kitchen table with a $50 bill lying on it. I realized, upon opening my card, that if he got $50, so did I. Any amount is generous and perfectly acceptable, but with only 50 dollars, I knew I could forget about that angel doll I wanted and start thinking of what I wanted to do with $50. Buy more rats, clothes, CDs, whatever. But then I was holding two $50 bills! These were brand new bills and they were stuck together. I checked Tom’s money again and he too, had two bills, so now all I have to do is hope Angel of Wishes, as is her full name, is still at the store. With my rotten doll luck, she’ll be gone.

Friday, December 25, 1998

 

I did a load of laundry and watched a movie. Soon I’ll go begin Ghost Story and hope it’s good.

Just got off-line thanking David, Evie, Steven and Carol for their gifts. Got a total of ten Christmas cards, too. I also saw Alex on my buddy list, so we swapped Merry Christmas messages.

Got some unexpected surprises today. At Mary’s house, Mary and Dave got Tom a joystick, and me a 3-D puzzle game you play on the computer. There was a box of hair accessories from Mom, nuts from David and Evie, a small wolf blanket from Carol and Steven, and this really cool clock from Ray and Nora that I wanted to get myself but forgot about. At each hour is a picture of a different bird that chirps its sounds at the hour. The great horned owl is at the twelfth hour, for example, and the song sparrow is at the eighth hour. This is much better than having a live bird here in the house! That Tweety bird was way too obnoxious! It has a light sensor too, so that the birds won’t chirp if you have it in the bedroom or something like that.

The blanket will be good for Tom to use next time we sleep together. That way, if he pulls the covers I shouldn’t feel it.

The hair accessories consist of a few different sizes of claw clips and some cloth-covered hair elastics.

Mom’s still hanging in there, but who knows when she’ll be able to go home? It’ll probably be a few weeks.

Tammy called to say in a message to us that she had a wonderful Christmas party with Mark and Stephanie. That’s Mark’s 18-year-old daughter.

Andy called too, leaving a message about how he went to Donna’s and got some unexpected gifts. As usual, so into himself, too. Not a word about Mom. Not an “I’m sorry to hear about Tom’s mom,” or a “How is she doing now?”

Later...

The Baltimore oriole went off at 10:00, and at midnight, off goes the owl.

Any sec now I should have my spot that I get a week before my period. I felt pre-cramps, I think. My tits are also doing well this month as far as soreness goes.

I didn’t like the book Ghost Story but began A Cry in the Woods last night and got 115 pages into it.

Tom told me the renters are really weird. They talk on their cordless phone while standing in the driveway. People out here tend to hang out in their front yards, but yup, that’s a weird one. If you’re gonna talk on the phone outside, why not sit in a chair on your patio or porch? Why stand in the middle of your driveway?

Also, at 1:15 last night, for about 20 minutes, some people were out partying. I couldn’t fucking believe it! I know this is Arizona, but this wasn’t 1 PM on a winter’s day or 9 PM on a summer’s night. This was in the middle of a freezing December night! All I heard were voices laughing and talking, but the weird thing about it was that I couldn’t see anyone. I thought it could be one of the houses across the street, but I never saw any movement or people.

Saturday, December 26, 1998

 

This is the current eating plan - to not worry about what I eat from now till I get up the next time I get up. When I get up, though, I’ll have basically liquids till Monday to compensate for these Christmas treats I’ve been having. Then, every day I’ll have my chicken TV dinner and chicken soup. Every other day I’ll have bean soup and popcorn. I’ll also have unlimited amounts of chicken broth, Jell-O, and things like that.

I have no desire to be a doll sculptor and could never imagine myself being able to be in a million years. I mean, it’s hard enough to draw faces on paper, so I don’t know how the hell I could ever shape one out of clay. What I do want to be is a doll maker who assembles the dolls and picks out their clothes, different faces, hair colors/styles, and things like that. I want to buy doll parts to make dolls for myself, as well as to sell them. So after we move, and after I’m in a place where there’s more room, I’m gonna start with getting a doll kit, which costs around the same price as a doll. Then, I’ll buy bulk quantities and see about selling them. The store in the mall may be willing to sell people’s dolls.

I guess we’re going on Tuesday to get another T-tube for the rats and to get Angel if she’s still there. Tom’s sure she is there. I hope so!

Later...

It looks like the little freeloaders are to be returning tonight, cuz someone turned the front light on. There’s no car over there now, but I take it Bill came over to turn the light on for the bitch and that the bitch will be here any moment since the inside of the house looks too dark for anyone to be in there unless they came in before I got up and crashed very early. I was hoping they’d stay away through the New Year. Now, who knows how rowdy things will be over there for New Year’s Eve, although they’ve never been here during a New Year’s Eve yet.

Sunday, December 27, 1998

 

The light’s still on, but it’s still dark inside the house and I haven’t heard or seen any cars. Maybe Bill came over to check things out and thought the light should be on for security measures.

Woke up at 110 pounds, and to a message from Paula. Yeah, she loves playing phone tag!

What a nail disaster I had yesterday! I tried to put the second set of nails on, but my nails are just too little. I had to do so much filing to try to get the nails to fit, that they just wouldn’t glue on right. The fucked up surface of my nails didn’t help either. They’re like sandpaper. I have to resurface my nails and get a new set, but I can only use one set in each package. Even the smallest nails have to be filed like hell to get them to fit.

I love my new game from Mary and Dave. It’s like a tiles game and it has lots of colorful tiles that are really pretty.

Later...

No freeloaders. At least not from what I can see. The light’s still on, so unless Miss Bitch came back before I got up and crashed before she could turn the light off, and is still out cold, Bill or some other associate of hers came over and left the light on on their way out.

I forgot to mention that it was Mom who got Tom the joystick. Mary and Dave got him a T-shirt. That seems to be a tradition here; getting Tom T-shirts when he doesn’t need them, cuz he has a ton of them.

Got some wine coolers for New Year’s Eve.

Later...

We went to have our weekend sex, but he was too stressed out over his mother. Couldn’t stay hard very well and couldn’t get on top. Yeah, old Marjorie’s interfering with our lives again and holding things up around here. God, I hope my vibe of her dying just after her 77th birthday is wrong. I’m like God, take this woman off our hands now! Nonetheless, things are continuing to go as vibed. Don’t get me wrong. She’s ill, she’s in pain, she’s out of her mind half the time. Tom says she asks if there are rabbits in the pail in the hall hospital, falls asleep during sentences, and forgets people’s names. Anyway, she may be in pain and she may be out of it, but she’ll be alive for a while yet. Thank God, for the millionth time, she’s not alone in her own house. That’d hog up more time that Tom doesn’t even have. God’s always had magnificent timing when it comes to having things happen in my life, be it to myself or to those I know, so why doesn’t he take her now? Now seems like an ideal time so we can get on with our lives and out of this house. I mean, doesn’t he want us to move on? We’re in our 30s and 40s, so I’d think he’d want us to live our lives and do the things we need/want to do.

Isn’t it funny how he doesn’t like Kim, who he claims woke him up while he slept through a million times more noise right next door, yet he goes to see his mother who took us for about $4,000 and God only knows how many hours of time.

Currently, our plan is to go to the doll store on Tuesday, but why do I have a feeling that good old Marjorie’s gonna change that?

There are no freeloaders next door. I didn’t hear the Sunday morning door slamming. I’ve heard nothing, and there’s no way the house would be dark from as early as 9 PM on a Saturday night all night, and there’s no way I wouldn’t have heard door-slamming last night and this morning if there was someone there.

I called Paula who told me she’d call me back, which really means she’ll call me back in a few days or even a few weeks. I don’t know why she’s so obsessed with playing phone tag, but it’s very obvious that this is the case.

Monday, December 28, 1998

 

Still no freeloaders, and still got the front light on.

I had a dream that they moved next door and I got to see the inside of their house, which looked nothing like it would in reality. It was a 2-story 4-bedroom house. In the dream, Miss Bitch had two daughters and a son. The house was furnished when I looked in it and I assumed that the state furnished the house for them. All they took was their stuff, but not all of it. They even left a few dolls behind, but they were ugly.

I also dreamt that the house out back that’s behind the old man’s house added a second floor to it.

I hope this dream isn’t a dream premonition and that the freeloaders stay put. Dreaming about Measles coming back didn’t happen, so that’s hopeful. The sad part of that, though, is that I really believe Measles is dead. Why else would she stay away for so long? She loved me and she knew I loved her. She knew she was my favorite bird.

I did some singing earlier. Just like old times, too. The singing was fine. It’s the congestion that got in the way. God’s just so determined not to let me fully use/enjoy my voice! Just think, I still couldn’t be a professional singer, even if I could keep a schedule, for the same reasons I couldn’t when I smoked. I’m just too damn congested. Tom says it’s Phoenix’s pollution, but what are we gonna do when the pollution catches up to where we’re moving to? Not only will we be hearing car stereos in Texas in another 10-20 years, but there won’t be any clean air left!

My weight’s right back to where it was before the torture I had on the 14th. I’m about 112 pounds, and I took a water pill, but I don’t know if it’ll help much.

To my surprise, I didn’t have tons of Evie messages yesterday or today.

Jackie and Jim gave us a little wooden wall hanging with a cactus, a roadrunner, and a mountain carved in it. I colored it in. So much for no one giving Christmas presents this year! It seems everyone did, but us. All we did was give Ma an electric stapler.

Speaking of Mom, she’s now in a care center just outside of the hospital. She’ll be there till she can gain enough mobility to go back home. Then when she does go back home, she’ll probably need hired help. Someone to sit with her while Mary and Dave are working during the daytime. Dave only stops in for lunch.

I asked Tom why he felt he had to be with Mom every day when that’s what the doctors and nurses are for. He said it’s because she was there for him when he was sick (he had meningitis as a kid). Well, that’s all well and good, but he was a child and that was her job to be with him. Meanwhile, she’s all grown up now and he’s not obligated to her like he seems to think he is. Well, at least he won’t be dumb enough to give her another four G’s, and as for time, she’s only got a year and a half of that left anyway, and I don’t need him with me as much as I needed him before. Now that my sex drive’s about as low as his and now that I don’t want a child, it makes it easier to deal with. I entertain myself very well with my hobbies. As he told me, though, he’s there for me if I need him. I know that. I know I’ll see him every day.

Paula left two messages after I crashed.

Tuesday, December 29, 1998

 

Yesterday’s visit to Mel’s was no joyride. It hurt like hell when she went to tighten the bands and she even had to get the doctor’s help on one particular tooth.

She said I needed to brush better, which is hard with the braces on, and gave me a special little toothbrush designed to pick in between the braces.

She also still had my card and my card only! Didn’t she get other cards? It was sitting in the same spot by a picture of her dog. It was a white dog of some kind that’s kind of large.

Anyway, I’m a little sore now, but before I see her the next time around, I’m gonna take a ton of ibuprofen. At least I don’t have to see her again till February 1st.

Woke up at 109 pounds.

Tom brought home some leftover treats from work and about 5 more Christmas cards he got from coworkers. He also bought me a couple of puzzles at the grocery store. One’s a scene of the Virgin Islands with palm trees, and the other’s a dog and cat.

I realized something not too good and I hope this will never be the case, but if we put the house up for sale in March - what if it takes 8 months to a year to sell? God, I hope not!

I felt some pre-cramps a little while ago. See? I knew having clogged tubes was too “normal,” on top of all the reasons a kid is not meant to be. Because that is the problem for most women, and because the dye usually fixes that, I knew that wasn’t my case. If it’s common, it’s not me. I knew my problem went much deeper and I knew my uterus had something to do with it. Not my tubes. Tom says he got off cuz he had nothing to fear, but I wonder - could the test have only reassured him that there’s nothing to fear?

Well, the point is the same as it’s always been - whether I like it or not, I’m sterile for life. I was born this way. I’ll die this way.

Later...

I talked to Tammy at 8 AM her time. The girls are coming back today. Meanwhile, she’s been having a blast with Mark, and the T-shirts arrived there, too. She’s still having problems with Lisa. Lisa’s being rebellious, she says, and is lying and basically being lazy when it comes to chores. She also said Sarah said something about being afraid of Bill’s temper while in Florida but didn’t get into it. She said she doesn’t think he got physical with the girls, but he’s his usual angry self who’s hurting all three of the girls emotionally. It can hurt a kid when you tell them they’ll amount to no good, or something like that, just as much as if you’d hit that kid. Yes, verbal and emotional abuse can be just as damaging as physical abuse. So Tammy says she’s gonna look into getting his rights severed, and I hope to hell I’m wrong, but I say she’ll never succeed. The courts are too biology-obsessed. I asked her how she felt about beating the shit out of Bill or killing him and having it look like an accident and she said it wouldn’t do her any good and that two wrongs don’t make a right. Yeah, I know what she’s saying, but still, sometimes you’ve got to resort to violent measures in order to get someone off your ass and scared into doing right.

Speaking of doing right, it hurts and angers me to hear what she has to go through and I don’t need it any more than they do, so once again, should I walk away when we move?

Got a backache now. Another PMS symptom. I’m looking forward to getting my period, but I don’t actually sit and pray for it, cuz you don’t need to pray for what’s already a done deal. If something’s meant to be, it’s gonna be, and you don’t need to pray for it.

Wednesday, December 30, 1998

 

The freeloader’s front light is out. Did they come back? Or did it burn out? Hope it just burned out.

Now I’m ready to do some bitching. Here we go again with the mom and Mary tasks. Ma went home yesterday and today Tom’s gotta put up handrails cuz Mary’s stupid, lazy husband won’t do it himself. Thursday, I’m gonna go over and sit with Ma while Tom works on Mary’s computer for her. These people can’t do their own work, I swear! You gotta do everything for them. Tom calls Dave inexperienced, but I think lazy and stupid is more like it. It’s his house, his wall, so he should be putting up his own fucking handrails. And it’s his computer, so he should be the one fixing it. Mary and Dave together should take care of their own house and their own things. Tom says Mary will pay him fairly, and that we can get on with fixing our own house after this, but I don’t know. They always seem to need just one more thing. There’s always something they just have to use Tom for cuz they’re either too fucking stupid or too fucking lazy to do it themselves. And if they don’t know how, why don’t they get off their asses and learn? And of course, David and Evie don’t hardly help out cuz they don’t have the life in which to do it, and Ray, Nora, and all the others are too fucking stupid and lazy to care. Like I said, the abusers are on my side of the family, and the lazy, stupid, users are on his side.

Later...

The dogs decided to go off, so I decided to really give them a reason to and I screamed. They continued barking for five more minutes. And of course, the owners slept right through it and didn’t come out to calm the dogs down and check things out. The only people around here who may not be able to sleep through anything like the freeloaders, the collie owners, and everyone else, might be the people behind us. They’re up all night anyway. I don’t know if someone there has a weak bladder or what, but that bathroom light goes on constantly throughout the night. Like once every hour or two.

Anyway, what is it with these dogs going off at the slightest sound? I know how close I am to them and how sensitive their hearing is, but last winter was totally different than this winter. Last winter, there were a few nights where I tried to get the dogs to go off given the one-in-a-million chance they may have woken the freeloaders up, but they wouldn’t. I slammed chairs around, I banged things against the house, but they wouldn’t go off. This winter, they go off at the screen door opening. And it’s so quiet too. Just a little rustling sound. It doesn’t squeak or anything like that. Even the daytime’s worse this year. There are some days when they wait longer than ten minutes in between barking sprees, but not very often. They have been quieter since the freeloaders have been out of town, and I realize, that Bill and Mistake being home would stir them up more. Assuming the mistake hangs out in its bedroom half the time, that’s just an arm’s reach from the dogs, so I’m sure they hear her bopping around and go off over that. The slightest thing sets these dogs off. I never heard anything like it or as bad. Only trained guard dogs are this bad.

I don’t usually like to talk in round-about ways, but in my message to Andy a few days ago, I mentioned how he didn’t question or comment about Mom, so “just in case” he didn’t get the message with the scoop on her, I’ll go through it again. In other words - don’t be so into yourself and seemingly non-caring. Be polite. Ask how she’s doing. I haven’t heard from him since, and I realize it may be because he’s a little embarrassed. I left him a message tonight and all I said was that I hoped things were well with him, and that I wanted him to visit sometime soon so he could see the new stuff I got, which I told him about. As I told him, I don’t know what’s up with him lately. Is he clean? Is he working? Would it be best to get together at night or during the day? Of course, whenever he comes over, he’ll be a stoned ditz and it’ll be just like I was talking to the wall. He won’t remember shit about our visit. And asking him to come over sober won’t do me a damn bit of good. Yes, Andy is always a true friend, isn’t he?

Later...

OK, on with the good news. I doubled my rat collection and got that Angel doll I wanted!

First we went to a pet store to get another T-tube to make it easier for them to go between the middle two floors. Now they have two pink T’s, a purple curved, and a yellow straight tube. Since they’re too lazy to climb the straight tube, it’s just lying on its side in the cage.

Tom told the guy there that the wheels were missing from the cage we got, and he opened a cage box and gave us the wheels from it. That was easy enough.

Then I got Porky and Cutie. Porky’s solid dark brown, except for the white on his paws and belly, and Cutie’s all light tan. All four rats get along very well.

I also got some more sawdust and noticed that they make bigger balls. Those plastic balls that the hamster and gerbil used to run around in. Maybe someday I’ll get one for the rats.

Then we went to the doll store. They were having a sidewalk sale which seemed to be no big deal. They were plastic dolls for $40. But that’s what they usually sell for. Anyway, the guy there gave me a brand-new Angel doll right out of the box she’s shipped in. As usual, there’s a slight problem, but not nearly a big enough one worth taking her back. Well, it seems I have a problem with arms these days. First the lollipop doll had her arm out of position, and it seems Angel’s is bent a bit too far back, but I can live with it. One arm hangs straight down by her side. The other’s up and has her palm upright and opened by her face, which is turned to the side, as she holds the purple heart-shaped gemstone she came with that says the word “wish” on it. They did a good job on her hands. They’re more real-like compared to Edie’s and Anne’s, whose hands almost look like clubs.

She’s really gorgeous as far as her face, hair, and clothes go. Usually, it’s hard to get all three. Usually, if the face is nice, the hair’s pitiful, and if the outfit’s nice, the face sucks. She has blue eyes and dark blond hair like Rapunzel’s and Summer Dream’s. It’s between wavy and curly. I straightened it out a bit and it falls a little below her ass. She’s 14” tall and is on a thick, solid stand. This stand, like Summer Dream’s, grabs her at the crotch. Patrice’s stand grabs her at the thigh, Bailey sits, and the others are held by the waist.

They did a good job of making her hair look like it’s attached to her head, and not sitting on a bald head. There are two little braids at the sides that go to the back of her head and are tied with a purple ribbon. For someone who doesn’t like overly detailed things, her detail is exquisite. A halo sits on her head, going across her forehead. I had started off by having her hold this, instead of the gem, cuz I couldn’t get it to stay in her hand at first. It’s a really pretty halo of purple and gold with little pearls wrapped around it. She has a similar necklace on, too. I may make her an ankle bracelet later.

I chose not to attach her wings, which are white and gold and have the same sequins and pearls that her dress has. They’re sitting elsewhere in the living room. Her dress is lavender satin and chiffon. Three layers altogether. It’s off the shoulders, tied at the waist, and shorter in the front. It comes up almost to the knees in front and is to the table she’s on in back. She has purple silk pantaloons on, too. Does any doll come without pantaloons? The only one I’ve got without them is Patrice, although I can’t say for sure what’s under Bailey’s sleeper.

She’s very realistic looking, like Summer Dream and Patrice. Compared to Edie and Anne, she makes Edie and Anne look like geeks! She’s sitting by my monitor.

I never really believed in angels and being able to make wishes to a doll that’ll come true. I asked Tom if he believed in angel dolls granting wishes. He said he doesn’t believe, but he doesn’t disbelieve either, so I decided I’d put her to the test. I wished upon her that we’ll get to move before June. Tom said as long as he has me, he doesn’t need anything else and that anything else he gets is a bonus. I feel that way too, but it couldn’t hurt to test her out, even if I think it’s bullshit.

Later...

I guess Tom was right - Angel’s hand isn’t too far back. He said it looked like the model that was displayed in the store. I just went online and looked at the picture of her they had, and it looks the same.

I made her an ankle bracelet which really looks good.

I had made Bailey a necklace to cover up where her head and neck join but didn’t like how it looked. That’s only because the only halfway decent color I could find was clear neon orange. If it had been light blue or pale pink, then maybe it’d look OK.

Later...

Earlier I had Velvet out. Just now, I cleaned the rat’s cage, fed them, and gave them some attention.

The pet store had a much better selection this time around. The last time, all they really had was a couple of ugly chinchillas and white mice that were used for snake feed. This time, they had medium, large, and jumbo rats. These are large rats, although Mickey might be a medium rat.

If the light bulb on the freeloader’s front porch did burn out like I think it did, I hope they don’t get it in mind to replace the security light bulb too, when they hit the porch one. I do not want that thing glaring on and off at night when I’m trying to relax to music.

Thursday, December 31, 1998

 

Tom thinks the freeloaders will come back Sunday or Monday morning. That’d be nice, but with my luck, they’ll be back tomorrow or Saturday. More likely Saturday.

The red pickup was next door for about a half-hour yesterday. This time, they parked in the driveway. I couldn’t see what they were doing. I don’t know if they went inside the house, and if they were here just to check out the house, as Tom suggested, why did it take a half-hour? I couldn’t see the driver, but I caught a glimpse of the woman as she was getting into the passenger side of the truck, which was easiest to see from where I stood. She had shoulder-length blond hair. Their driveway is to the left of our house, so when I spy from the living room window, the passenger side is closest to me. At least these people came and went normally. They shut their doors coming and going once and in a normal manner. They didn’t slam the fuck out of them over and over and over and over.

I forgot to say that Angel was 20% off, so we got her for $99 and not $109.

I asked Tom why I had irritation in my mouth all over again on the bottom. Just when my mouth toughened up to the braces, I was irritated all over again. He says it’s cuz she tightened the braces and that I may get that after a tightening. I don’t with the top, but that’s cuz she’s not tightening a whole row of teeth up there. Not yet. Anyway. Not till it’s almost time for the top braces to come off. Guess I still have 3-4 more months with the top braces.

I sent Marla an IM when I saw her online. She’s trying to go to Massachusetts but keeps getting delayed due to fog. Guess she won’t make it out till the 1st or 2nd. She said she spoke to Andy, but I still haven’t heard from him. I left him a message yesterday telling him I’d like us to get together sometime soon, so he’ll call when he calls, I guess. He must be really busy, thank God, to not get back to me right away. Either that or he’s waiting for the weekend since he didn’t call me last weekend. I have noticed the pattern here lately. It seems he’s calling every other weekend. At least he’s doing what I asked of him half the time. What is it with people having such a hard time doing little things? If you can’t do a simple little thing like not calling on weekends, reaching out, and turning the volume knob of your stereo, then how could you handle big things?

Later...

All the rats were waiting anxiously for me when I got up. They came up and grabbed their cheese. The mice also looked for me when I got up, as they usually, do and the pig went off for his carrot or lettuce. Whatever I feel like giving him.

We’re not going to Ma’s today, as planned. Tom didn’t put up the rails yesterday cuz Ma had a lot of visitors.

Later...

There’s a chance the freeloaders could make a scene on MLK Day. They did for the two they were here for in ‘97 and ‘98, so we’ll see how they handle freeloader year in ‘99. However, last year was different. They were pissed at me cuz of the bottle and letter and I hadn’t gone to the city yet for help, so that’s why they harassed me with a dozen kids playing ball for 3 hours. This year, things are different, so maybe MLK Day will be, too.

[1kook]

netflix & chill

summary If you planned things right, you could rain down your raging displeasure on Jeon Jungkook right after the meal but before this proposed ‘Netflix and chilling,’ maybe dramatically throw your glass of wine at him, before storming out of his place and reporting him to the authorities (Namjoon) for his douchebag personality. warnings grinding, 2 seconds of sub kook, oral (f), cum eating, vanilla but [ passionate ], unprotected sex, dirty talk tags use of the oldest trick in the book (“your hands are sooo big”), shy oblivious AND gentleman jk? pick a struggle, brief ment of app developer kook, evil and conniving oc wc 10.2k !! wow!!

will I ever write a serious jk fic? NO. this entire thing was based off this pic of jungkook which i’ve said before that i would print out in sepia filter and crumple and stuff in a drawer n then tell my kids 35 years from now was a long lost lover i met on a cruise to the bahamas and never saw again ty to mia more @daechwlta​ for being there during my brief crisis over this fic 🥺

When Namjoon had first not so subtly mentioned the idea of setting you up on a date, it was with a faux air of disinterest that you had masterfully pried the details out of him. Namjoon has a friend, he said, a friend who was kinda sorta attached to his hip. And while Namjoon loved the kid, he also thought this friend could use some social interaction outside of Namjoon.

Now you and Namjoon weren’t exactly the most conventional of friends for him to be proposing blind dates to you at whim. He was your senior at school, your mentor in your scholarship program, an educated man studying for his masters. So when he’d first uttered the words you were immediately on the fence. Sure, the two of you knew each other well and probably got along better than most mentor-mentee pairings among your year, but you doubt Namjoon knew enough of your tastes to offer you up for a blind date.

According to Namjoon, his friend was a kid in the same year as you, making him not so much as a kid as he was your classmate. You brushed it off at first, spewing some bullshit excuse that you’d rather focus on your studies, and how dating was a distraction to your education, as if you hadn’t spent the weekend prior binge watching some Spanish novella while you dutifully ignored your essay.

The second time Namjoon mentions it you agree on the spot. Life on campus could only be interesting for so long, so you might as well make the best of it and go on as many stupid dates as possible.

Namjoon is over the moon.

He tells you he’ll pass your phone number on over to that friend of his—“Jeon Jungkook”—and promises you you won’t regret this because his friend was amazing, really. And for Namjoon to sing his praises for just any underclassmen was unheard of. In fact, besides you, you don’t think Namjoon knows many other students younger than him, and if he did, you hardly doubt he would regard them so highly.

So he gives his friend your number, and so ends your weekly meeting with your mentor. You only realize on the walk back to your dorm that you forgot to ask him about some club at school, the whole goal of this week’s meeting, but by then you don’t really care, the whole conversation fading into the background.

In fact, you forget about the whole ordeal until Friday night rolls around and you’re once again, binge watching another novella on your laptop, when your phone suddenly vibrates.

You were by no means a loser at school, a friendless nobody, but you were also not the outgoing, school-spirited student on the front page of your school’s website, and thus had nearly every app that could produce a notification on your phone muted, every text thread silenced. The only notifications and messages you allowed were from your email and from your roommate, and considering the fact Doyeon was face down in a puddle of her own mid-semester tears right across from you, it was probably your email.

Much to your surprises, it isn’t that “Monday’s Class is CANCELLED” email you were hoping for, but instead some unknown number in a text notification. You roll your eyes, click it open thinking it’s a reminder from some store or from some guy claiming to be from your bank, only to pause at the words written inside the little grey bubble.

hey its jungkook!!! joon gave me your number to I guess ask you on a date soo are you free tmrw night??

The excessive punctuation reminds you a little bit of your kid sister back home and the dorky emails she’ll send you from time to time. It’s with that memory and a smile on your face, that you’re suddenly reminded of what exactly this message is saying. “Oh shit,” you mumble, moving to sit up and reread the text. Doyeon complaining loudly in the background has you reading it twice more before you understand it, and by then there’s a fluttery feeling in your chest.

You were by no means easily swayed by people, but this guy had received praise from Kim Namjoon of all people, so he definitely had some prestige to his name. He doesn’t seem overbearing from this one text he’d sent, but he also didn’t seem completely disinterested.  

You try to match his nonchalant energy, letting him know you were in fact free and down to meet him, just to let you know more details.

You won’t lie, there’s a giddy feeling bubbling within you at the prospect of getting all dolled up, hitting the town, pawning a free meal off some unsuspecting college soul, and maybe even hitting it off. It’s been a while since you’ve dated, sue you.

Jeon Jungkook’s response crushes those dreams as well as hurdles you straight into a nightmare.

cool!! was thinking i could cook for us at my place, drink a little wine, maybe Netflix and chill a little bit??

You are blown away by the absolute gall of this man, to butter you up by painting a pretty picture only to reduce you to a mere booty call. The fact he had felt confident enough to say all that within the same sentence blows your mind.

Did this Jeon Jungkook, who you had no idea of what he looked like, who had no idea of what you looked like, seriously just invite you over for some quote unquote Netflix and chill?

Who, in the ever living hell, was this guy who so sleazily invited women over to fuck with no qualms about who they were?

You’re offended that Namjoon would set you up like this, pawn you off to such a greasy friend. But then again, you guess not everyone knows their friends thoroughly, because this Jeon Jungkook flirtatiously inviting your over for some sex sounds nothing like the golden boy Kim Namjoon had raved about earlier this week. You click your phone off, tapping the device against your lips as you ponder how to best rip this jerk to shreds via text.

It’s amidst Doyeon cursing out her statistics teacher that an idea hits you.

Tomorrow was Saturday night, and as far as you knew, you really didn’t have anything else going on for you anyway. You’d take Jeon Jungkook’s offer, let him cook you a free meal and drink some of his wine. He mentioned having his own place, and vaguely you remember Namjoon saying he lived alone, hence his introverted tendencies, so you could slip in and out without doing that walk of shame through a boy’s dorm hall.

Not that there would be anything to feel shameful about. In fact, if you planned things right, you could rain down your raging displeasure on Jeon Jungkook right after the meal but before this proposed ‘Netflix and chilling,’ maybe dramatically throw your glass of wine at him, before storming out of his place and reporting him to the authorities (Namjoon) for his douchebag personality.

Ha! That would certainly teach the asshole not to use his poor, unsuspecting friends to reel in nice girls like you into one night stands.

You could practically feel the devil horns begging to poke out of your skull, the forked tail wiggling behind you, as you click your phone back on and text Jeon Jungkook a great!! what’s your address :)

——

Saturday morning and afternoon are as boring as they usually are. You do a little homework, and spend thirty minutes filling Doyeon in on your master plan, which she eats up and even gives you some pointers—“and then you can be like, ‘you sick freak, as if I’d let you near this 5-star, Michelin reviewed, Gordon Ramsey approved coochie’ and throw the whole plate at his head!”—before getting ready for your little date at Jeon Jungkook’s.

You try hard to look good, harder than you would have if he hadn’t offended you by reducing you to a booty call, and Doyeon helps. She does your eyebrows all nice and natural, dusts the thinnest shin of liquid highlighter across the high points of your face, the whole shebang until you’re looking like a sexy, glowing goddess. You shimmy into a pretty dress, nothing too fancy nor too casual, and even pull on those strappy sandals you’d bought on sale last winter before blowing a kiss to Doyeon and meeting your Uber downstairs.

You don’t quite remember what the reason behind Jeon Jungkook living in such a swanky neighborhood a few minutes from campus was, if it was from a job you vaguely recall Namjoon mentioning, or if it was just purely hereditary, but his place is nice. It’s a connected townhouse, something you’d expect a newly wed couple to live in and not some douchebag third year.

Worse comes to worse, you get banned from this rich neighborhood after humiliating one of its residents in his own home, not that you’d ever make it big enough to live here anyway.

You’d texted Namjoon sometime that morning to let him know you were meeting his friend, an ominous text with an even more ominous smiley face attached to it. But it seems Namjoon is easily blinded by underclassmen he trusts, if Jeon Jungkook’s assholish feats and your own suspicious behavior is anything to go by, because he texts you back a polite have fun! he’s a little shy, so it might take a while for the ball to start rolling hahahaha.

Shy my ass, you think closing the door of your Uber behind you. You double check the address that had been texted to you, walking up to the neat townhouse and knocking against the polished door.

It’s a little chilly, and you hope finding an Uber is easier later tonight when you make your grand escape. It’s between these thoughts that the door swings open, revealing the most handsome man you’ve ever met.

He’s attractive, disgustingly so, with dark hair and light brown tips to contrast, tickling his cheekbones. His dark eyes are round and imploring as they meet yours, gaze almost innocent and doe like as he takes you in. He’s got this soft, blue turtleneck on, and it looks like it should be a seasonal sweater reserved for the holidays but he pulls it off nicely on this premature spring night. His pretty pink lips move, and it takes you a second to realize he’s talking.

“___?” He says, and his voice is deep, yet soft in its own unique way. You nod, like a stupid bobble head, because your throat constricted the moment this beautiful angel opened the door. “It’s cold outside, come in!” He urges you, out stretching his palm to make sure you don’t trip over the slight step up the door as he brings you into his home.

“Hi,” he exhales when you’re finally inside, standing a little too close to you in his small entryway.

“Hi,” you finally choke out, a little dazed by how handsome he is, and the sudden realization that you’re supposed to throw your glass of wine at him tonight because he’s a douchebag dawns on you. You blink yourself out of your stupor, taking a step back and gesturing towards your sandal clad feet.

“Oh!” Jeon Jungkook exclaims at the sudden realization. “I forgot to set out a pair of slippers for you,” he sheepishly admits, before he excuses himself to go get some. There’s a tiny ottoman pushed against the wall, beneath a long mirror, that you take a seat on it, carefully unstrapping your sandals.

All the while, you’re deep in thought.

It makes sense that someone like Jeon Jungkook was so forward in inviting you over for sex during your first interaction. Realistically speaking, the guy had it all. He lived alone in a swanky townhouse in a wealthy neighborhood (you finally remember Namjoon saying he did some app developing for major companies—yeah, still in college but already making it big because he was that good), and looked like the blueprint for the perfect man, someone who’d impress your parents. On top of that, the man was was a 21st century Adonis. You hadn’t missed the flash of ink on his knuckles, or the way his jeans had hugged his legs.

He’s making his way back now, inspecting the slippers in his hands, and you don’t miss the way the jeans are pulled taut around his thighs in particular.

Yeah, he definitely knew his way around a woman’s body, there was no way he couldn’t have.

You slip your feet into the slippers he places before you, wiggling your toes around, before glancing back at Jungkook. He smiles warmly, a little beauty mark beneath his lip making itself known. He takes your hand, pulls you up onto your feet, and begins guiding you down the hall and to what you assume is the kitchen.

“I didn’t know what you liked, and I figured asking you three hours before you came over would be too awkward,” he laughs, rubbing the back of his neck. He glances at you again, and upon seeing your inquisitive stare, quickly turns away with flushed cheeks.

Oh this man knew the game, and he knew it well.

Jeon Jungkook still thinks he can play that cute campus boy being set up by his senior card now, after he’d shown you his true colors last night via text. But he has a big storm coming. As much as you could admit he was good to look at, you would not be fooled by some pretty face and tasty food. No, you came here with one goal and one goal only, and that was to give Jeon Jungkook a piece of his own two-faced medicine before running off to tattle to Namjoon.

You reach the kitchen and the heavenly smell of Alfredo sauce swarms your nostrils. “I… I’m still new to cooking, so I hope you don’t mind some Alfredo pasta,” he admits, shy smile adorning his features as he avoids your gaze once again to toy with the dish towel by the sink.

You creep closer to the counter, where two meticulously presented ceramic plates sit beside a wine bottle, and the glands in your mouth suddenly go into overdrive in their rush to make you salivate, and you choke out an overly eager, “it looks amazing!” before you know it.

Okay, you came here with two goals.

——

Jungkook carries the two bowls in his big hands to the dining room beside the kitchen, and you follow behind with the bottle of wine and two glasses as you set the table together. The utensils are already there, but Jungkook runs back into the kitchen anyway to return with some fancy cloth napkins for the two of you.

Just as you're tugging a chair out to sit, Jungkook beats you to it. “Ah, let me,” he smiles, and your heart thunders nervously in your chest as you return the expression, brushing your hands beneath you before sitting down and letting him push you in. Jungkook takes his own seat in front of you, and before you can dig in he calls out to seemingly nobody, “Alexa, dim the dining room lights.”

The overhead lights dim, and with their overbearing glow gone, you can finally appreciate the battery powered candles snuggled neatly into a little bowl on the table between you two. You ooh appreciatively, and Jungkook looks proud of himself.

Then, he says, “Alexa, play…Date Night Playlist.”

You blink, and a soft piano tune begins filtering through a speaker he’s hidden somewhere in the room. Even with the fake candles being your main source of light, the flush on Jungkook’s cheeks is evident as he gestures towards you to eat.

You won’t lie. Jeon Jungkook was extremely endearing.

This much becomes evident the further you get into the meal. As small talk devolves into full fledged conversations and story telling, his shy demeanor slipping away but still sticking to the edges of his personality, you begin to have a more difficult time connecting this Jungkook to the one who had less than 24 hours ago asked you to come over and “Netflix and chill” with him.

But the more you speak, the more distant that image begins to feel. For one, Jungkook does put on a fairly reserved aura for you, telling you about his job but refusing to brag about it even when you egg him on. He has no qualms gassing up his friends, Namjoon in particular, who Jungkook claims is his role model for some unknown reason, given the fact they are neither in the same major nor in any of the same clubs. They’re friends, point blank period, but Namjoon is very obviously a star in Jungkook’s eyes.

Additionally, he’s quite embarrassed to admit why Namjoon had been so set on getting Jungkook to date, but eventually tells you it’s because Jungkook’s last girlfriend had been during your freshman year—two whole years ago! It makes you wonder what he’d been doing since then, if he’d used the time to fully invest in his work or if he’d been mingling around, unbeknownst to his friends, which would explain the flirtatious offer that landed you here.

Still, a part of you refuses to believe last night’s Jungkook and tonight’s Jungkook were one in the same, and if they were, what had made this shy man so unabashedly invite you over for some sex. Was this act all a ploy? Or maybe, was he purposefully trying to ward you away by coming off as a gentleman now that he’d seen your face and wasn’t interested in you anymore?

Apparently it’s neither of the two, and you don’t realize this until you finish your meal and make your way into his living room to finally get down to the long awaited Netflix and chilling. It’s only when you sit down on the couch, smack dab in the middle, because at this point, you’re not gonna throw your wine at Jeon Jungkook like you planned, he was too nice. And if this niceness was an act to get in your panties, you didn’t care at this point. He was hot, achingly so, and at least you’d get a good fuck out of it.

But as you said, apparently not. Because Jeon Jungkook sees you purposefully take up the entire middle of the couch, sultry eyes staring him down, and decides to sit flush against the armrest, somehow leaving a good foot between the two of you, despite the fact you’re sitting next to each other.

Your brain can’t work fast enough to comprehend the situation, before he’s asking you what you want to watch. “Um,” you say, pointedly staring at him and not the screen. “Tr-Transformers?”

The way Jungkook’s eyes light up is insane, already round eyes nearly popping out of their sockets as he eagerly rushes to select it from whatever streaming service he has, probably not even Netflix, all the while chattering on about how much he loves that series, and is so glad you do too.

The whole time, you’re struck by the oddness of his casual tone, the way he’s overly invested in the 20th Century Fox opening, and how he’s very carefully avoiding intruding in on your personal space.

The last point in particular has you wanting to pull your hair out, because you want Jeon Jungkook intruding in on your personal space. You want him pressed so tightly against you you can’t breathe, you can’t move, until you’re drowning in him as he finally lives up to his promise of some Netflix and chill, because you want him, and you want him so. very. bad.

“Oh, I forgot the popcorn!” Jungkook exclaims, and you jump at the sudden volume of his voice, because he’d been pretty silent as he avidly watched the first few minutes of the movie. “Sorry,” he chuckles, and his leg brushes against yours as he shuffles between you and the coffee table on his way out. You vaguely hear the popping of the popcorn in the kitchen, but you’re too distracted by your suddenly overwhelming thoughts.

Okay, one thing was for sure, and that was that Jeon Jungkook definitely had no fucking idea what the phrase Netflix and chill meant, because the way he’d zeroed in on the movie and the popcorn, and not you, was unheard of on such invitations. You deduce he probably heard it somewhere, and, now understanding the true nature of Jungkook’s sweet and shy personality, made no such perverted connection to the phrase.

Which meant he most definitely did not demean you to a mere booty call, like you’d deluded yourself into believing, someone he could hump and dump with no regrets, before calling Namjoon up to thank him. Which meant he’d had no ulterior motives in meeting you tonight, just planning to get to know you at the suggestion of his friend, and had—unbeknownst to him—successfully wooed you thus far.

Which was great! If you turned a blind eye to the evil, conniving plans you’d made without even meeting the guy, and the subsequent flood of self-inflicted disapproval when you realized Jeon Jungkook was a sweetheart who definitely did not deserve having a glass of wine thrown at his face after making you a home cooked meal and giving you the full Olive Garden experience, with his dimmed lights and candlelit dinner and piano music on the background.

Yeah. Perfectly fine.

The only problem now was that you had become so dangerously smitten with the man that you wanted to sleep with him. You wanted that Netflix and chill, needed it like it was the last slot in a daycare class and you were a soccer mom of five wanting to get at least one kid out of the house for the summer for the sake of her own sanity. You were desperate.

No, you scold yourself. This was fine, this was good, this was perfectly okay. If anything, this just further made you enamored with Jungkook, because it proved how gentlemanly he was by not trying to sleep with you on the first date.

But that didn’t mean he didn’t want to, the devil on your shoulder crooned.

The microwave in the kitchen stops, and you hear the sound of cabinets opening as Jungkook pours the popcorn into a bowl. On screen, the main character is meeting a bunch of giant cars-turned-robots, you don’t fucking know.

But the devil was right.

Jungkook hadn’t offered to sleep with you, but that didn’t mean he didn’t want to. Furthermore, that didn’t mean he couldn’t be seduced into wanting to, your evil brain suggested, and the hope that had slithered it’s way into your chest from the very moment Jungkook had opened the door, took that fact and ran with it.

“What’d I miss?” Jungkook says when he returns, popcorn bowl in hand.

“Oh, um, he was with the car,” you offer, trying to stop the nefarious smirk from slipping onto your features. Jungkook laughs, cute and airy as he shuffles past you.

He’s too absorbed in the screen, not looking as he sits down, closer than last time until his thigh brushes yours and he jerks back in embarrassment. “Oh, sorry,” he flounders, goes to move away but you act fast.

You grab onto his upper arm with both of yours like an octopus, keeping him flush to you as you gaze up at him with wide eyes. “No, it’s okay,” you rush to assure him, loosening your hold as he tentatively relaxes beside you. You glance down at the popcorn bowl in his hand, swiping a piece to pop between your lips. “It’s easier for us this way,” you say, and you’re pulling that straight out of your ass, because you hate popcorn and have literally zero desire for it and wouldn’t have reached for it anyway if you weren’t trying to convince him this was all for popcorn sharing purposes.

Jungkook’s eyes briefly flicker down to where you’re munching on that popcorn, your lips, before he’s quickly averting his gaze. “Ah, y-yeah,” he agrees, and though he tries to relax back into the couch, you can still feel the tension of his muscles as he settles beside you.

With his eyes no longer trained on you, you snuggle closer into his side resting your cheek against the soft material covering his shoulder, finally letting that devious smirk slip onto your face. You keep yourself close to Jungkook, loving the way his warmth permeates the thick sweater he’s wearing, even if he’s still overly into the movie. You know he’s seen it before, because he keeps telling you random tidbits like, “they use this in the next movie!” Or “he ends up becoming really important in the sixth movie,” and you want to listen to this endearing nerd’s commentary, you really do, but once your brain is stuck on horny, it is stuck on horny.

He doesn’t even eat a lot of popcorn, setting it down not ten minutes later onto the coffee table. You release him as he moves forward, but quickly latch onto him again when he sits back down.

Much to your surprise, Jungkook is way more relaxed then, shrugging you off to rest his hand on the couch behind you, and you inwardly squeal at the prospect of getting to cuddle up to his body, and not just his arm. You cuddle in close to him, leaving your slippers on the ground as you tuck your legs up onto the couch cushions.

Jungkook is so warm and firm, and you know it’s your horny brain speaking, but you swear you feel a tight set of abs underneath the palm you rest on his stomach, and you give an experimental brush over the area. His heart picks up, you hear it by where your head is leaning against his chest, and you tilt your head up to give him a curious glance. His cheeks are red, and he doesn’t look at you even though you know he sees you, so you decide to kick things up a notch.

You sigh loudly, peeling yourself away from him to properly level him with a pout. “Jungkook, aren’t you hot in this?” You ask, pinching the wooly material between two fingers and pulling it from his skin. Jungkook finally looks away from the screen, nibbling his lower lip as he takes in your quizzical expression.

“Um, only a little… but it’s fine!” He rushes to say, and you recall from your conversations over dinner that Jungkook doesn’t much like people fussing over him, so you quickly change gears.

You press a hand against your cheek, the same one that had been resting against his shoulder earlier. “Oh, well… it’s really itchy,” you announce, and his eyes widen, one hand absentmindedly reaching to clutch the material at his chest. “It’s making me really itchy,” you emphasize, and part of you feels bad for taking advantage of his caring nature, but this is all for the greater good, you convince yourself. “Do you mind taking it off?”

“I, uh, yeah,” he agrees, reaching for the hem of his sweater before carefully peeling it off. When he pulls it over his head, you can’t help the triumphant grin that overtakes your face, though you quickly mask it when he finally frees himself from the material. “Better?” He says once he’s clad in only a plain black shirt.

“Mm, much,” you sigh, and nearly soak your panties then and there when a tattooed sleeve comes into view. “Woah!” You exclaim, snatching his wrists up to examine his skin. “What’s this?” You marvel, tracing every inch of delicious skin with your predatory gaze. Jungkook huffs out a laugh, and you glance up to watch as he rubs the back of his neck in that same embarrassed way he’d done multiple times throughout your night together.

“My tattoos,” he says, and then seems to realize the simplicity of his statement and rushes to add to it, “I hope you don’t mind?”

You hum, shifting onto your knees to face him as you continue tracing over a huge tiger lily by his forearm. “Why would I? It’s your body,” you say, and watch the nervous glance melt off his face as he regards you with something new. Something akin to wonder as he lets you trace over more of his ink, nodding along to your words.

“Yeah… yeah!” He agrees, and you grin at his sudden zeal. He chuckles, physically relaxing beneath your touch, and it’s probably the most relaxed he’s been all night as you continue rubbing your hands over every tattoo on his skin, and then purposefully focusing on the ones near his bicep. “Sorry, ‘m just used to people pushing off their own opinions about them onto me,” he explains, and for a moment, the horniness that had been fueling you all night fades away, and you let your hands trail down, past his wrist, until you’re sandwiching his hand between yours.

“Fuck what anyone else thinks,” you tell him, eyes hard as you imagine anyone imposing their stupid thoughts on Jungkook, who was too good for this world. “If you think they’re cool, then they're the coolest thing in the world.”

He smiles at you, and you’ve seen this smile about a million times tonight—when you first came in, when you talked about yourself at dinner, when you mentioned this stupid movie—but it has something swelling in your chest. Something too intimate for a first date, so you quickly move to repress it.

Glancing down at his hand in yours, littered with smaller tattoos across his knuckles, your brain whirls into action. Bringing it up between the two of you, you turn his hand over to line your palms up. “Wow, your hands are so big,” you sigh, slowly reverting back to dirty thoughts as you twist yours and Jungkook’s hands this way and that. He snorts, bends the tips of his fingers over yours just to hear you ooooh again.

“Yeah, they’re pretty big,” he agrees, completely ignoring the film playing on the screen, which is a huge win in your eyes considering how deeply he’d been watching it earlier.

Finally, you see an opening and pounce.

“Well, that means something else is pretty big too,” you murmur, chancing a glance up at his face. His face is the perfect definition of composed, and you can tell when exactly he processes your words because those little pink lips part in surprise, red slowly filling the apples of his cheeks. You let go of his palm, letting it slide between your fingers until it falls limp beside him.

Jungkook watches you with wide eyes, as you raise yourself up onto your knees. “Jungkook?” You mumble, giving him no warning before you’re throwing a leg across his lap, knees pressed into the couch on either side of his thighs.

“Y-Yes?” He stutters, brown hair falling away from his face as he stares up at you. You flash him a sweet smile, and you can tell it relaxes him because his fists unclench beside him.

“You’re a really nice boy,” you sigh, and when you’ve scooted your knees a little closer to his ridiculously thin waist, you finally let yourself sit. You find yourself right before his crotch, which he desperately tries to hide as he shifts around, but can’t with you on top of him. You let your hands flutter to rest at his shoulders, and he gulps. “You’re so sweet and cute,” you add, relish in the flush that climbs up to his ears. “But I’m a little sad you invited me over to Netflix and chill, but won’t do just that,” you pout, a finger tangling itself in a soft strand at the back of his head.

“Huh?” He stutters, eyes nearly bulging out when you wiggle around again. “I-I’m sorry?” He huffs, and when you move too close to his crotch, where his jeans are slowly growing more and more strained, he panics and reaches a hand out to steady your waist.

You feign confusion, flashing him another pout as you duck closer until your noses bump against each other. “You know what it means, don’t you, Jungkook?” You inquire, eyes falling dangerously lidded as you swallow up every inch of his appearances.

He stutters, hands moving up and down as if he doesn’t know where to put them anymore. But you know exactly where Jungkook can put those hands, and you waste no time catching his wrists in your hands to guide him towards your hips. “No?” He breathes, fingers flexing against you, and you smile sweetly at him.

“It means,” you purr, shifting forward until you’re flush against where you need him most. You can barely contain the whimper that climbs out of your throat when you finally feel the rough material of his jeans against your panties. “It means you wanna fuck, Jungkook,” you exhale, tossing your head back as your body basks in the slight reprieve, the way Jungkook squirms beneath you aiding greatly in providing that sensation you craved.

“It’s nothing more than an excuse,” you huff, placing a hand on the back of his neck to steady yourself. At your touch, Jungkook jolts, thighs jumping beneath you and you stifle another groan when the zipper of his jeans prods against your core. “For you to fuck my brains out while some s-stupid movie plays in the background.”

You’re not sure when, but sometime during that last explanation your hands had fully delved into the thick tresses of Jungkook’s hair. You give an experimental tug, and poor Jungkook, so lost in all that you’re telling him, lolls his head back for you easily until the long expanse of his neck is available, soft creamy skin yours for the taking.

You pounce, kissing the skin gently at first, before sprinkling in a handful of nibbles. He’s sensitive, devastatingly so, as he gasps at a particular suck. You suction your lips on the spot below his ear, carefully biting down on the skin as he unravels beneath you. “Will you do it, Jungkookie?” You murmur against the shell of his ear,

He nods eagerly, and his fingers hurt where he’s pressed them deep into your waist, like he’s trying to brand you as his with his mere strength alone. “Y-Yes,” he exhales, hips jerking when you swipe your tongue over the pretty mark you’d left on his perfect skin.

You smother your smirk against his neck, grinding down on him once again. “Yes what?” You tease, and let his strong hands roll you against him afterwards.

“Yes, I-I’ll…” he stumbles, eyes dazed as he watches you through hooded lids. You raise a brow at him, shifting in his lap. It’s enough to kickstart him back up, and he’s biting down on his lip hard enough to draw blood. “I’ll fuck you, I’ll fuck you just like you want,” he rambles. He surprises you when he begins rutting up against you, so animalistic and uncontrolled, nothing like the sweet Jungkook that had indulged you over dinner. “I’ll make you come, p-promise,” he rasps.

You smirk down at him, hoping he doesn’t see the metaphorical horns sticking out of your head the further he falls into your trap. Before he can say anything else, you surge forward, slotting your mouths together for the first time that night.

It’s no surprise that Jungkook kisses just like he speaks, carefully like he’s afraid one hard press of his lips will ward you off. His lips are smooth, a fact you’d hyper-fixated on all night as he spoke, but before you can ponder on that any further, something hot and wet is prodding at your lower lip.

The gasp you barely manage to contain ends up escaping anyway when Jungkook’s hand comes up to cup the side of your face, tilting your head to the side as his tongue slithers into your mouth. You become obsessed with the way he touches you, every bit the gentlemen he’d been all night, fingers just barely pressing into your cheek like he doesn’t want to mess up your makeup. His other hand, snuggly wrapped around your waist, pulls you tighter against him until your chests are pressed together.

And that tongue. That tongue of his that leaves no room for argument, quickly shutting down any attempts of yours to overtake him. He’s graceful about it too, one nudge enough to convince you he’s got this, he’ll take care of you. You whimper, a sound Jungkook swallows before he’s biting down on your lower lip.

When he pulls away, his lips are red and glossy, and you wonder if yours are too. “Fuck, you’re so pretty,” he sighs, gazing at you like he can’t believe you’re there in front of him.

Before you can say anything else, he’s burying his face in the crook of your neck to brush kisses over your skin. “Let me eat you out,” he begs, but his voice is so silky and smooth that it doesn’t sound so much as a plea as much as it does a suggestion. He licks a stripe up your neck, and you jump in his hold.

It’s at this moment where the sudden realization hits you, the feeling of having the reins yanked out of your hands. You so vividly controlled every aspect of Jungkook just a few moments ago, when you’d had your own mouth on his neck, and carefully coaxed him into some sex.

But it seems Jeon Jungkook isn’t as soft or as pliable as you had dubbed him to be, and if the way he’s begun subtly rolling your hips into his crotch is any sign, he certainly wasn’t the submissive type either. Which leaves you wondering, exactly what type of person was Jungkook in bed?

Well, you had all night to figure that out.

“Hey,” he whines suddenly, ripping you out of your thoughts. You glance down at him, registering the bored set of his eyes and the unimpressed quirk of his lips. “Pay attention to me.”

You blink, lips twitching. You can barely muffle the giggle that tears itself from your throat, leaning your forehead on his shoulder as your body shakes at his suddenly childish words. Jungkook chuckles too, as if suddenly realizing how out of place his own statement was. “Sorry,” he smiles, cheeks pleasantly rosy and you can’t even stop yourself from kissing him silly.

Jungkook, bless his heart, let’s you rain down a good three kisses on him before he’s pushing you down on the couch beside him. There’s still a slight gleam in his eyes, but the rest of his face schools itself into a hungry expression as he drinks in your body laid out before him. “Let me eat you out?” He asks again, voice but a soft whisper.

You nod, heart beating loudly in your chest as he shuffles down until he can press a kiss to the tops of your thighs. He hasn’t even done anything that intense yet, but you already feel the muscles in your leg ready to spasm just from his proximity.

He’s mouthing at your skin, nudging your legs apart, and you, usually so confident in your sexuality, can’t find the courage to look at him as he so lovingly carries out his ministrations.

As if sensing your sudden bout of shyness (you! shy! Doyeon was gonna tease you about this for the rest of your life once you recapped this for her), he places a soft kiss just below where the hem of your dress begins, before pulling back and uttering, “this okay?”

You hum in response, face warm from just imagining how good he must look down there, peppering your skin with kisses. Your heart nearly rips itself out of your chest when a strong set of fingers wraps around your wrist suddenly, sliding over and around your hand until he’s tangled them with yours.

At this, you nearly break your neck trying to look at him, only to be met with an amused smile. Jungkook gives your hand a squeeze, and you barely get to appreciate the schoolgirl flood of emotions in your chest, when suddenly his free hand comes out of left field, cupping the back of your knee to push your legs further apart, before gliding across the expanse of your thigh to push your dress up.

If Jungkook holding your hand was enough to make your heart skip a beat, Jungkook pressing a chaste kiss to your panty-clad mound was enough to send you into cardiac arrest. Your leg twitches at the sudden touch, a gasp catching in your throat at the delicate path he kisses over your panties, until he’s flicking his tongue over your clit. “Oh,” you moan, and against your better judgment, your free hand is tangling itself in his silky strands.

Jungkook smirks, what sounds like a tiny chuckle muffled as he continues mouthing along your sex, until your panties are soaked both from your arousal and his saliva. Your little thong stares him in the face, and he groans at the sight, glancing up at you with those wide eyes of his like you’re his entire world. “Can I?”

Jungkook gives your clit one final kiss, before he lets go of your hand, and you can’t help the whine that leaves you upon the lost contact. Jungkook eats it up, pressing a kiss turned smile against your knee as he tugs your underwear down. It coils up as it goes, until he’s pulling a tightly twisted maroon thong off your ankles, and tossing it off somewhere behind him.

If his mouth felt good through your panties, it feels even better without. You mewl when he brushes his lips over your clit, plush lips working your sensitive bundle of nerves, sly tongue occasionally creeping out to toy with you further. “Jungkook,” you cry out, back arching. He licks and slurps likes he’s a starved man, and you're the first meal he’s ever had. You want to sob from how good it feels, his tongue flicking over your bud like he just can’t get enough.

He pulls away to catch your gaze, doesn’t let it go as he runs a lone finger over your slit, coating the digit in your own arousal, before carefully plunging it into your warm, wet heat. “Is this good?” He rasps out, watching your facial expressions carefully as he wiggles his finger deeper into your core, his other hand wrapped around your thigh to keep you still. You moan, feeling like a boneless heap of organs beneath this insanely handsome man who can’t keep his hands off your quivering pussy.

His fingers don’t let up, slowly pulling out before plunging back in. The room fills with disgustingly wet sounds, but that fact drifts to the back of your head the faster his fingers go. Your eyes roll into your head, your body twitching with each press of his fingers.

“Is it good, pretty?” He repeats, and since you’re not looking at him anymore, the sudden lick against your clit has your back arching and your thighs quivering with surprise. “Tell me it’s good, ___,” Jungkook croons, and you nod in a hurry.

“It’s good!” You cry, moaning loudly when he slips another finger into you, scissoring the two inside of you. “It’s so good, Jungkook—y-you’re so good,” you moan, and nearly cry actual tears when he curls his fingers inside of you, pressing down against the most sensitive spot within you.

Jungkook doesn’t let up, continues licking and slurping against your sensitive bud, even when your orgasm hits and you’re begging him to stop. He doesn’t let you go until he feels the warmth coat his fingers, feels the wetness begging to seep out of your plugged pussy. He lets you go then, only to move closer to your hole and replace his fingers with his mouth. There, he carefully catches and collects the cum that trickles out, mouth warm against your trembling body.

Your body quivers with each long drag of his tongue over your sensitive cunt, and you’re about to ask him to stop, when he finally pulls away and pushes himself over you, arms caging you in as he stares down at your withered form. “Kiss,” you manage to gasp out, and Jungkook raises an eyebrow in question. “Kiss me,” you repeat, and then, thoughtfully, “please.”

Jungkook complies, leans down to connect your mouths in a sweet kiss. You’re blinded by the delicacy of it all, that you in no way see coming the sudden substance that slides down your throat from his own. You choke at the sudden intrusion, belatedly realizing it’s your cum he’s pushing down your throat, the cum he didn’t swallow.

“That’s it, pretty,” Jungkook croons, licking up the residual come that hadn’t made it into your mouth. “See how you taste for me. Isn’t it sweet?” He murmurs, pushing his tongue into your mouth as if he regretted not saving any for himself. It’s the first time you’ve had your own pleasure in your mouth, so you’re not exactly sure how to feel. What you do feel is the overwhelming surge of arousal at seeing Jungkook rave about it and lap it up inside your own mouth.

He kisses you for a few moments, mouth moving languidly along yours. One hand reaches down to rub soothingly at your inner thigh, like he’s coaxing the feeling back into your body after lulling you into one of the most heavenly orgasms of your entire life. You whimper when he bites down on your lower lip, like you’re still too sensitive to reciprocate, but Jungkook doesn’t mind. He lets you go, licks over where he’d bitten like an apology.

After a few minutes of just this, of feeling like the most cherished girl in the entire world, Jungkook finally pulls away and levels you with a dashing smile. “All good?” He asks, hands still trailing up your waist until they’re framing the swell of your breasts, where he gently circles your nipple.

You nod, dazedly staring up at him and it’s at this exact moment that you realize there’s something stiff poking at your hip. You glance down, and Jungkook glances down with you, until you’re both staring at the hard on he’s hiding beneath his jeans. Jungkook chuckles, low and dark by your ear as he experimentally presses it against you.

Before you can stop yourself, your hand is untangling itself from around his shoulders and slithering down his front. You cup his erection, his shaky exhale giving you the courage to toy with his belt buckle until it’s undone and you're battling with the button on his jeans instead. You put up a good fight, but in the end the angle is too tight for you to properly undo it, and Jungkook brushes your hands away with a soft kiss to your lips.

He pushes himself off you, and you’re immediately craving the warm press of his body against yours the second he’s gone. “Get that dress off for me, pretty girl,” he says, pulling his shirt over his head, rendering you completely speechless as you gawk at his body. Jungkook glances down at you as he goes to undo his pants, a shapely brow raising in your direction and a soft quirk of his lips gesturing for you to do as you’re told.

You spur into action, wiggling the dress up and over your breasts until you’re pulling it over your head and letting it drop beside you on the floor. You’re just in time to see Jungkook push his jeans down his hips, a classic black Calvin Klein underwear band glaring back at you.

The chance to marvel at Jungkook’s thin waist framed by that tight underwear is gone as quickly as it came, and you’re greeted with an even more mouthwatering sight when he pushes the elastic band down, and that big cock you had alluded to springs out of its confines. You groan, subconsciously rolling your hips into the air as you take in the sight of his cock, mushroom tip swollen and flushed. There’s a thick vein that runs along the underside of it, one you only see when Jungkook grasps his dick in his hand and tugs upward like this isn’t his true form, and he can get bigger.

“Ready?” He asks, biting down on his lip as he continues to stroke himself. You nod, wiggling closer to him until the backs of your thighs rest on top of his, knees knocking against his waist. He grants you one more of those kind smiles, before he’s leaning down to press a hand beside your head, the other lining himself up with your soaked entrance.

Running his cock over your folds one last time, collecting as much of your cum as he can, he brushes a kiss against your cheekbone before he’s pushing in. You moan, throwing your hands around his neck as he pierces through the initial ring of muscle surrounding your warm heat. “Holy shit,” you choke, mouth dropped open as you pant like a dog against his shoulder. “J-Jungkook,” you cry, legs tightening around his waist the closer his body presses against yours.

Once he’s at the hilt, pelvis flush against you, you can’t help the series of whines and mewls that escape your lips from being so comfortably filled to the brim.

To your surprise, Jungkook is the first to speak. “Fuck,” he groans, breath hot against your ear. He sounds fucked out, once silky voice raspy with need as he grinds his hips against you tentatively. “This is what you wanted, isn't it?” He huffs, both hands coming down to wrap around your waist, your back arching under the wonderful hands that find themselves squeezing every inch of your back in an effort to pull you closer.

His mouth brushes against yours from this new position, and Jungkook puckers his lips, tongue coming out to lick at your bottom lip. You nearly cry when he finally pulls his hips away, relieves his cock from your tight heat before surging back in. “Wanted this from the moment you walked in, didn’t you, sweetheart?” Jungkook grunts, repeats the same motion until he’s picked up a steady pace of pushing and pulling, each roll of his hips sending a shock of ecstasy crawling up your spine.

You nod, eyes screwed shut as pleasure warms every inch of your body. It’s even worse to not see, because every sound and every touch is magnified tenfold, until you’re drowning in sensations. Jungkook’s choked groans, the slide of his hips, they all become too much too quickly and you’re choking back a sob.

“Fuck,” he groans, glancing down at your withered form like an animal as he picks up his pace. His hold on you tightens, never letting your body move away from him and he begins jack hammering in his thrusts, swallowing your cries with his lips. “Had me thinking you were a nice girl,” he huffs, and you wonder if he knows how tightly he’s holding you, how this grip will most likely leave you with fingerprint bruises tomorrow morning. But then again, you don’t care. All you care about is Jungkook’s voice and his body, guiding you toward completion. “But all you wanted was a quick fuck.”

You steel yourself to look at him again, and when your eyes finally open and focus, you’re wishing you hadn’t because Jungkook looks so hot over you. His pretty eyes, the ones that had led you into a false sense of comfort throughout the night and tricked you into believing he would be easy to bend to your every whim, are hard now. “Isn’t that right, doll?” He spits, and you whine when he punctuates this question with a particularly brutal thrust of his hips. His balls slap against your ass, and you squirm beneath him as you begin to feel the beginnings of an orgasm build in your core.

“I-I thought—“ you stammer, tone pitched from the way he jostles you with every thrust he gives. “Y-You wanted that,” you weekly defend, canting your hips down in a feeble attempt to progress this along.

He snorts, captures your lips in a rushed kiss where he wastes no time snaking his tongue inside your mouth. His saliva trickles into your mouth, and you whine as he purposefully lets it happen, pulls away just the slightest to pucker his lips and let a thick trail of spit fall straight into your open mouth. Satisfied with his little stunt, he rams his cock against you once more.

“If you wanted a quick fuck,” he says, nearly loses himself in your pussy, “you came to the wrong guy, sweetheart.”

You’re too caught up in the nice drag of his cock against your pussy, the tip of his cock stopping him from ever pulling out completely, that it takes you a second to process his words. “H-Huh?” You choke, teary eyes flickering across his face wildly as if the answer will be right in plain sight.

But all you’re met with is the soft pull of his lips as he flashes you a smirk, pearly white teeth tugging at the pink flesh, as he levels you with a glare of his own. Before you can question him further, he’s letting go of your waist to hike your knees into the crook of his elbows, his pouty lips growing further away as he leans back.

This shift has his cock nudging up, rubbing against the hood of your clit where a bundle of nerves he’d only briefly brushed before sits. You shriek in pleasure, writhing beneath him as the sudden sensation hits you full force. “Jungkook!” You sob, his hips slowing to a grind as he watches your face crumble beneath him.

“You like that?” He murmurs, rutting his hips against you shallowly. The change of pace, the rabid piston of his hips slowing to this, has your body melting into his touch. You barely manage a nod, eyes fluttering open and shut as his hips move sensually against you.

His cock brushes against that sensitive spot with each roll of his hips, and you’re a mewling, puddle of emotion by the third thrust. “Pretty girl,” he hums, letting go of one leg to place a hand above your mound, thumb circling your clit until you’re trembling beneath him. “Did you think I would fuck you and kick you out?” He husks, watching your body like he’s a lion and you’re his prey.

Your brain is far from comprehending anything at this point, reduced to a mere mass of nothingness as he continues moving against you, fingers rubbing your clit in all the right ways.

“Well, you were wrong about that, doll,” he huffs, and you’re blessed with the sight of his head lolling back as he loses himself in the tight grip of your pussy, skin glistening with sweat, trailing from behind his ear and over his neck, until you’re watching a pearl roll over his collarbones. “I don’t do that,” he informs you, and he pinches your clit between two fingers, hard enough that you almost miss his next words as you moan. “No, baby, I’ll fuck you and keep you forever,” he spits, and you whimper at his words. Finally, he lets go of your knees, right as you’re teetering on the edge of an orgasm and you moan out in protest as he ducks down to cage you between his arms again.

“Please,” you beg, voice hoarse as his hips slowly return to their pace from before. He’s still not pulling out as much, keeping his thrusts shallow as he kisses a trail up your neck and over your jaw.

“Gonna fuck you so good, you don’t ever want to leave, pretty,” he says, kisses the corner of your mouth as his hips pick up pace. You wanna cry, feeling so warm and cherished in his arms, his voice telling you how good you’re doing as the coil in your stomach tightens and tightens until you’re begging him for more. “Do you want that?”

“Yes! Yes!” You sob, rolling your hips against his like a madman as you chase your high.

Jungkook hums, smile smushed against your lips as he watches you desperately writhing beneath him. “Yeah? You want that?” You nod, mewls swallowed by his kisses. “Then cum for me, pretty girl.”

You whimper, just as he bucks into you once more, and suddenly you’re falling apart. It starts in your lower back, the ecstasy climbing it’s way through your body until you’re quivering and sobbing in his embrace, muffling your sounds against his shoulder. The muscles in your entire body tighten painfully, until suddenly a wave of contentment washes over you, and you’re too weak to even hold onto him anymore, arms flopping back onto the couch cushions beneath you.

The whole time, Jungkook mutters encouragement against your jaw, keeps his thrusts short but quick, guiding you through your orgasm. When you’re done, he presses an open mouthed kiss beneath your ear, pulling away to look at your boneless frame beneath him.

A few pistons of his hips later, and Jungkook is coming inside of you, cum coating your walls as he hammers his way through his orgasm. He pulls out when he’s done, and you instantly feel your mixed arousal drip out between your thighs.

Woozy from the wine and the two orgasms, you fall asleep soon after.

——

“Good morning,” you murmur, standing at the doorway leading into the kitchen, an area you’d only been able to find after stumbling around the upstairs of the house in confusion.

Jungkook whirls around, wide eyes taking in your appearance. You clutch at the hem of the big t-shirt you’d pulled on, the only article of clothing you saw that was thrown over a chair in a bedroom you didn’t dare snoop around. “Morning,” he exhales, calculating gaze never leaving you as you tiptoe over to him by the counter.

He doesn’t say more, spluttering into action when you peek over his shoulder to see what he’s up to. “What’re you making?” You inquire, and his hands begin fidgeting with the knife.

“Oh, um,” he stutters, and perhaps he’s overly aware of your presence so close beside him, because he suddenly doesn’t remember how he’s supposed to cut an avocado. Cute, you think. “Just, um, toast with avocado spread…”

You hum. After a moment, it seems Jungkook is able to quell his nerves, and he carefully slices the avocado open, spreading its innards across the toast. He hands you the first piece, which you take after masking your own surprise, and soon after he’s turning away from the counter as the two of you eat in silence.

After a few thoughtful munches of bread, you speak. “Thanks for carrying me to bed,” you say, refusing to look at him.

“You’re welcome,” he replies, almost a little too fast and you barely bite down a grin as he rambles on. “Wasn’t gonna leave you on the couch, especially not when you were so tired after… ah, yeah.”

It’s the reserved way he carries himself that gives you the balls to look at him. His ears are flushed adorably red, like when you were at dinner last night talking about his job, and all you wanna do is pinch his cheeks. “Yeah,” you agree, and then add with an air of faux shyness, “you were really cool last night.”

It’s the little devil in you begging to jump out, curious to see how far you can push Jungkook before he shifts into that suave version of himself from last night, and you would feel bad had the corner of his lips not tilted up in amusement.

He chokes out a laugh, mutters a “yeah?” and you don’t stop yourself when you jump into his arms and kiss that avocado spread right off his lips.

——

On Tuesday afternoon, Kim Namjoon is in the midst of delivering another sermon-like speech on the importance of utilizing your student ID when visiting any of the Starbucks within a two mile radius of your school, when you spot a chestnut head of hair from the corner of your eye.

“Sorry, Joon! My ride's here!” You yelp, shoving your notebook into your bag as you stumble over yourself in your haste to leave.

Namjoon blinks. “Huh? I thought you lived on campus?”

You nod, that giddy feeling starting up in your chest as he comes closer to where you and Namjoon have taken up residence on a table in the commons for your weekly meeting, and by the time he reaches the table Namjoon is still in the midst of questioning you.

“Jungkook,” You say, all dreamily and dazed, and you know this because Doyeon caught you with this same exact look on your face after he dropped you off at the dorms Sunday afternoon.

Namjoon startles. “What the f—“

“Hi,” Jungkook beams, leans down to brush a kiss against your cheek, which only serves to make you even more ditzy and dumb in the face of this handsome man. “Oh, hey, hyung.”

“What’re you doi—“

“All set?” Jungkook asks you, completely ignoring whatever his beloved senior was saying in favor of taking your bag off your shoulders. You nod, have to swallow a giggle down when he takes your hand in his. “Bye, hyung.”

“Bye, Joon!” You barely remember to throw over your shoulder, too busy wrapping yourself around Jungkook’s arm to hear Namjoon blabber in shock. 

“Kids these days,” he huffs.

[ part 2 ; hulu & woohoo ]

[purplesurveys]

1677

What were you doing at 10:30 this morning?: Sending out my last few emails before we had an all-day workshop at work. We had a mock pitch presentation contest of sorts and my team won 1st place :)

Is there anyone else in the room with you?: Nopes, it’s just me here.

If you married the last male you spoke to, what would your initials be?: That was a barista at Starbucks and I didn’t even catch his first name, much less his surname.

What did you have for lunch today?: Skipped lunch as usual but I did have an iced Americano. Was too nervous to eat anyway as our turn for the presentation was right after lunch.

In your phone, who is the first contact listed under ‘L’?: Laurice.

How old is he/she?: 24.

What colour are your father’s eyes?: Dark brown.

Was your last Facebook friend requests from a male or female?: Male, it was someone from the family reunion we had two Sundays ago although I couldn’t remember which one he was at all haha. I added him back nonetheless as he’s family anyway.

What’s the 9th song on your iTunes “Recently Played” list?: I don’t think Spotify does a listening history per user but I wish they would. How do they still not have that feature?

What colour are the eyes of the last male you text messaged?: I can’t be bothered to check my texting history right now.

Who is the first contact in your phone? What colour is his/her hair?: Alex from high school. Not sure but if I had to guess it’s probably just in black??

How many tracks were on the last album you listened to?: 10.

Which one of your relatives is most likely to embarrass you?: My relatives know better than to fuck with me lmao but if anyone, probably my mom.

Is there a song you can listen to over and over and never get fed up of it?: Yes.

Do you have a friend whose name begins with H’? Describe him/her.: Hannah. I haven’t seen her since before the pandemic started, but she’s one of my lowkey friendships and we’ve always remained quietly supportive of one another even as we’ve started leading our own, separate lives. She’s very perky, loves David Archuleta, and is a great singer and also skilled at the piano.

Are there any songs in your iTunes library that you’ve never listened to?: I don’t use iTunes and it doesn’t work that way on Spotify.

So, how are you? Is there anything wrong?: I’m okay. Very tired from today’s events and I even had a TERRIBLE headache all afternoon, but I’m in bed now answering surveys with the aircon right in front of me and that’s all that matters.

How do you handle awkward situations?: Idk, it depends on the situation and where I am and what options I have lol. Most of the time my awkward situations happen at PR events where the person I’m talking to is shyer than expected – in those cases, I’ll pretend to get a text or be like, “oh sorry, let me just take care of something but feel free to go around the venue and take some photos before we start!” hahaha. Who is the most intelligent person you know?: Andi.

Who was the last female you were introduced to?: Ruthie, my newest teammate at work. She’ll be replacing one of my associates who’ll be having her last day this Wednesday.

What was your first impression of her?: I got super excited when I saw that her laptop bag has a big Tata print on it, but when I got to talk to her a bit more, she seems super quiet. Hopefully she gets to open up once we get to start working more together!

Who was the last male you were introduced to?: Celeste’s boyfriend.

What was your first impression of him?: It was like a 5-second encounter when I caught him video-calling with her yesterday haha, it was barely enough for me to have a first impression.

Name one of your favourite foods that starts with the letter 'F’. FAJITAS. Love those to death.

Do you have a close friend of the opposite sex?: Hans.

Would you ever consider being more than friends with them?: I’m not a homewrecker lol

Who is the 8th contact in your phone? Is he/she in a relationship?: Yes he got married late last year.

If you could travel back in time, which year would you go to?: 2015 so I can see my grandpa.

What were you like as a 12 year old?: Alone, anxious, angsty. Just a troubled kid for the most part who wasn’t getting the emotional support someone my age needed both in school and at home.

What colour are the eyes of the last female you text messaged?: Idk but dark brown probably as, like, all Filipinos.

When you woke up this morning, what kind of mood were you in?: Anxious. Are you hungry? Craving any food in particular?: Yeahhhh I am getting a bit hungry. Right after this I’ll get my leftover corndog, my leftover Starbucks cookie, and the leftover sushi bake we have in the fridge.

In the past week, how many times have you cried?: Too many times. I’ve been super vulnerable throughout May so far lol

On a scale of 1 to 10 (10 being amazing), how good is life atm?: 6.