#in a couple of hours like why? why do i intentionally stress myself out like this? why cant i make decisions if im not at peak stress level

[nerdie-faerie]

Why is it when I have a big task to complete that should take days to do, I procrastinate the hell out of it when I have plenty of time but when it comes down to the absolute last minute, I can do a couple of days work in a couple of hours? What the fuck is wrong with me? Why couldn't I do it casually over a couple of days but can do it in matter of hours?

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA to refuse tutoring my nephew even though I'm not sure what he did wrong?

So I (24, F) have been tutoring my nephew/the son of my mum's close friend (10, M) for a couple of weeks now. His mum pays me for the hours I spend teaching him and honestly despite the kid being obviously ADHD I don't really mind him getting constantly distracted because it's clear he still understands what I'm explaining to him, so we had a pretty good relationship up until this point as I was way more understanding of him than any other tutors or even his own mother, although I don't really know him THAT well.

During our tutoring sessions my cat, Pudding (14, F) would usually stay in the same room with us. She likes to stay in the same room as other people but usually doesn't let strangers pet her and will go away if bothered too much. Well, Nephew being distractable as he is would often go up to her to pet her as he would answer a question of mine or just as a thing between answering questions. Strangely enough Pudding did let him do that and didn't seem to be THAT bothered by it, so I too ignored it and just let him do it.

Now, here's the issue: A few days ago after we finished our tutoring session for that day I left the room to wash my hands in the kitchen since we were eating snacks during the session. My house's kitchen is literally DIRECTLY next to the room where we have our tutoring sessions so it couldn't have taken longer than 10-15 seconds from me leaving before I heard a cry from Pudding. "Oh, she must've finally gotten annoyed with Nephew's behaviour, I'll tell him to stop bothering her." I thought to myself as I finished washing my hands, yet before I was even able to make it back to the room I heard a second, much louder meow, the kind of meow a cat only makes if they ACTUALLY get hurt. So now, properly concerned, I round the corner into the room and see Nephew sitting right next to where Pudding is still laying, now with her ears flat and looking at him. He must've seen the confusion on my face because the first thing he said was "We were just playing." to which I blurted out that clearly she was not in the mood to play and walked over to check on her. While doing that, I noticed that there was a blanket slightly covering Pudding's hind legs, so I assumed maybe Nephew accidentally put his weight there without realizing she had her paws there. I VERY GENTLY pulled back the blanket and VERY GENTLY touched her legs to see if they were hurt, and then she BIT me and finally ran away. Of course I don't blame her, and in fact that only strengthened my concern because Pudding is a VERY polite cat, if she's bothered by anything she will just leave and if she bites for play it's always very gentle and doesn't leave a mark, this was not that. Afterwards I couldn't get any useful information out of Nephew as to what exactly he did, he just kept saying that he was petting her and she got annoyed which was clearly not true, so I dropped the subject and just sent him home.

Now it's been a few days since that happening and I've checked on Pudding's legs a few times since then. She doesn't respond to me touching them at all and she doesn't limp or anything so either she didn't get injured, or the legs were never the issue in the first place and me touching her was simply the last straw in that already stressful situation for her. Despite that however, I find myself not wanting to have Nephew over for tutoring anymore as I'm afraid that something like this might happen again when I'm literally gone from the room for less than a minute. It really annoys me that I have absolutely no clue what happened while I was gone, I don't even have a way to know if Nephew did whatever he did intentionally or by accident since him saying they were just "playing" could very well be just his honest perception of the situation, or him lying and being vague on purpose because he knows he did something wrong. The reason why I feel like Nephew might be lying about doing bad things on purpose is because Nephew's family has two cats, so I really feel like he should know better already and be more careful. Another point is the fact that this literally happened the INSTANT I was gone from the room, almost as if he was waiting for me to be gone to do something (as far as I recall I haven't ever left him alone with Pudding before this point), though admittedly that could just be unlucky coincidence. Plus, I find it REALLY hard to believe he'd be able to make Pudding cry like that on accident, I've genuinely NEVER heard her make a sound like that, ever, not even at the vet's. On the other hand however I know that he was failing his math class badly before I started tutoring him and I'm almost certain he'd start to fail again if I stopped helping him. Not only that, I'd have to come up with a lie about being too busy to do tutoring or something else since obviously I can't tell his mother "Hey your son might've done something bad but I'm not really sure and don't really have any proof and can't even tell if it was really intentional or not", since I realize how ridiculous that sounds despite still genuinely feeling incredibly uncomfortable about the whole situation.

So with all of that out of the way, would I be the asshole for denying him my tutoring services just because I feel uncomfortable about the idea of him possibly hurting my cat on purpose, even when I don't really have any proof that he did it on purpose or would do it again?

What are these acronyms?

[avpdvoidspace]

Since you've mentioned a couple of times having comorbid OCPD, would you mind explaining more about the effect that disorder has on you? Out of every PD, it's the one I never find people talking about. Due to that, and the diagnostic criteria itself being (as ever) exasperatingly superficial and vague, It's hard to know where to even look for information about it..!

Sure. I agree that it's very difficult to find information about ocpd online. I guess I could categorize my experience with ocpd into three categories: things that are absolutely recognized symptoms of ocpd, things that overlap with other obsessive compulsive spectrum disorders (like things more traditionally thought of as OCD symptoms), and things that I have to assume come from ocpd because they seem to but I don't know if they're universal because I don't see other people talking about having ocpd. So in terms of things that are definitely ocpd experiences: I really don't feel safe or comfortable in situations I don't have at least some control over. I need to control my space, my food, who is around me, etc to feel safe. This also applies to my time and schedule. I get very agitated when it's interrupted, even if I don't show it. I tend to plan my day's activities pretty rigidly and it stresses me out when I'm not able to follow through. I also have very rigid ways I like to do things, and it stresses me out if I have to do something with someone else's method or if someone in my apartment does something differently to how I would do it, especially things like eating without washing hands first, not taking shoes off before coming in, etc. I try to keep this kind of thing in check because I don't want to be controlling or obnoxious, but it causes me a lot of stress internally. This has been very difficult when I've had a job and I'm being told to do things a particular way but it's not MY way. It's also difficult when I'm intentionally trying to push myself to try a different method for, say, drawing something. Even though I'm making the choice, I'm breaking my method and it feels extremely Wrong. The next category is overlap with other obsessive compulsive spectrum disorders. I definitely get intrusive thoughts and the anxiety inducing spiral of 'something bad will happen if I don't have the tv volume set to an odd number' and 'I feel compelled to make sure my foot touches to the floor in a very certain way right now for Reasons'. I also have health anxiety that gets worse if I try to engage in reassurance seeking behavior (but this only started after I got diagnosed with a chronic illness, so it could be a combination of ocpd and trauma). But you can apply the mechanics of health anxiety to other things that pop into my head to frighten me with no basis in reality that start the reassurance seeking/me becoming more convinced the terrible thing is true cycle. Then the third category, which is random things I think are ocpd but who knows because there aren't a lot of other people out there talking about their personal experiences with it: I like recording things. Every day, I write the weather conditions down in a notebook. I also have very rigid records of my drawing time and draw with a stopwatch going to make sure I'm keeping track and write everything in a notepad++ file like so

I get extremely stressed out if anything gets in the way of this process! You could say my life kind of revolves around this actually. I've actually drawn at least an hour a day for about a decade (knock on wood...), and I track it every day. In general, I have a lot of fun creating methods and systems to follow rigidly. It's like a game even. Maybe why I like playing games with a lot of organization/time management... Love giving myself a list of tasks and completing them. Speaking of games, I love Pokemon Legends Arceus because it is essentially a checklist simulator. Also, I experience something similar to special interests but maybe not exactly the same. I wouldn't say hyperfixations either because they're not fleeting. They're very enduring. I wish I could explain more about how they're unique from either special interests (in the autistic meaning of the phrase) and hyperfixations (like with ADHD), but it's kind of hard to explain without feeling like I'm explaining it poorly. And last, something that could go in either this category or the second because it's something I've heard people diagnosed with OCD talk about experiencing is I have a weird thing with my memory where my visual/auditory memory are weirdly strongly connected. So if I'm listening to something while drawing, if I listen to it again, I can 'see' what I was drawing at the time. If I look at the drawing, I'll remember the part of the audiobook or whatever I was listening to. It's to the point that if I was listening to an audiobook while playing a certain video game, hearing the audiobook again will make me crave playing the video game really intensely! It's like I can see exactly where I was in the game as if I was playing it right now. Anyway, I hope that was helpful. I tried to include everything I could think of. My life is very rigid, but I guess if there's one more thing I could say about that, it's that the rigidity excites me and feels like it lights up my brain with feel-good chemicals. I think having ocpd is like a combination of extreme anxiety and the ability to create fun engaging activities all by myself and with very few resources.

[sadbugzz]

Soooo I don't see enough of these anywhere so fuck it I'm doing it myself

So you know the trope where a character becomes a monster and then has to deal with that? Yeah, here are some prompts for that shit

-character horrifically becomes a monster, and instead of attacking people, they just sit alone, confused, and disoriented.

-character who is turning into a monster.. but they don't know, but their friends sure do! So just imagine a character starting to grow fangs and their friends are just like - "buddy, since when did you have fangs???"

-character who's a skeptic in the supernatural but is friends with a supernatural fanatic, becomes a monster, and has to deal with their friend's fangirling

-character turns into a monster, but they get comforted by a loved one telling them its going to be ok.

-character having to hilariously hide being a monster through various cartoon level shenanigans

-character who is very clearly becoming a monster but is in denial and just says it's all from stress

-character's friends having to talk down their friend from losing control

-character having to adjust to having new limbs/features like a change in height or them now having horns

-character who just grew fangs having to explain this to their dentist

-character who freaks out because they're becoming a monster and think their cursed, but then their parent figure pulls them aside and is like nah its just [insert monster] puberty

-character who is still in control as a monster having to go to the store in monster form cuz they need groceries

-character accidentally scratching themselves due to the sudden arrival of claws

-character growing feathers but their really itchy

-character now having to fight the urge to tear into flesh whenever they go to the butcher

- character who just became a monster, having their loved one grasp their face and say "there's my [insert cheesy nickname]"

-character flipping out and starting to lose control because they just got told their no way to break their curse/cure them

-character having a loved one patch up wounds sustained during transformation (like accidental scratches from claws)

-character learning asl cuz their monster form can't speak normally

-character walks by a mirror to see its their monster form's reflection rather than their own

- character's grandparent figure giving character treats and fluffy blankets, and tea, after said character turned into a monster

-character who got infected and is turning into a monster but they hide it from everyone cuz they need to make sure their party finds somewhere safe to stay

-character who intentionally got themself cursed because they needed the strength to protect the ones they love

-character's little siblings do not understanding what's happening to big sibling and is begging them to tell them what's going on, as their big sibling is becoming a monster and trying to get little sibling to run

-character goes missing for a couple of hours and shows back up only to be like- "soooo guess who pissed off a witch and now turns into monster occasionally"

-character having to deal with feathers/fur getting into all of their clothes and bedsheets cuz of them turning into monster occasionally

-character using their monster form to win a costume competition

-character explaining to their dry cleaner why their clothes are constantly covered in blood and mud

[jodilin65]

MONDAY, JUNE 30, 1997 As a kid, my favorite day of the week used to be Friday, cuz that would be the last day of school. Now, though, my favorite day is Monday, cuz it’s the start of 5 days of peace. Not that it’s been noisy on weekends, but you never do know, so that’s why weekends are a bit more stressful for me. Next weekend is the 4th of July holiday weekend, so I can only imagine just what might transpire next door.

Woke up at 104 today, but my metabolism is still slow.

I’m getting good color, going swimming just about every day and the patio looks better, too. I’ve decided that at least for a while, I’d just give the birds the heels of our loaves of bread, rather than seed regularly too, to try to reduce their hanging out on the patio so much.

I just tried calling Kim, who said she got in a car accident and that her car was pretty much totaled, but she’s OK. Thank God she’s OK, but what is it with her and all these car accidents?

Yesterday I downloaded a couple of new match games where you match pictures (a lot like playing concentration), and a new and improved version of that tiles game I’ve loved so much over the last month. This one has more and nicer tile sets and has more features to it and it seems to be free of bugs. The other one had a few bugs. I also downloaded some tilesets, too, and Tom will install them when he gets up. He said he might not even sleep for 8 hours cuz he’s pretty well-rested. I thought that Mondays and Tuesdays were when he was the most beat. Anyway, will he be rested enough to return to screwing? We’ll see, but I’m not gonna bring it up and it’s easier for me to go without it more often after my period. That’s when a woman’s peak tends to be a bit lower.

I’m still praying daily, even though I know better and if Tom’s serious about a home business, I really really wonder if that’s got anything to do with his making me wait on him and with his not being in a hurry for a kid. Even he admitted that there’s no urgency and that it’ll happen when it happens. Well, in my opinion, if someone’s not in a hurry for something they claim to want bad and more than anything else, and have been in the right circumstances for it for years, and are plenty old enough for it, then they don’t want it nearly as much as they say they do.

He’s got your typical man’s attitude about this, but as I said, be it consciously or not, intentionally or not, is the business, besides the fact that we got married sooner than he had wanted to, among other stuff, another reason for his lack of eagerness to cum?

If this man ever wakes up and sees that logic and my woman’s intuition are correct about my sterility, I still have some very very serious doubts, fears, paranoia and a whole lot more about seeing a doctor. Regardless of the fact that God’s not gonna let no doctor. give a woman a child that he’s so determined to see remain childless, it’s just not fair and not right. Why should I have to work for and pay for a child? Huh? Why should I? Why should I have to pay for what should occur naturally? Why should I have to do God’s work for him? I still feel the same; if 15-year-olds and psychos can get this act of nature for nothing, and if God can love them enough to bless them with the gift of a child, why should I be any different? What the hell did I do that makes me so much more undeserving and not good enough for me to get pregnant naturally and for free? Well, obviously something up there feels I’m different enough, and I’m sorry, but I’m just not paying thousands of dollars for a miscarriage.

It can take years of a person putting in years of fighting God for something they shouldn’t have to fight him on, but it only takes a second to give up. I’m not gonna lower myself to kissing no God’s ass and I’m not gonna belittle myself into having to work my ass off and pay a fortune cuz God didn’t care enough to create a life in me for having nothing but good old-fashioned sex. Kids aren’t supposed to cost a fortune and be hard work till after they’re born. If he can love and favor teenagers, drug dealers, murderers and rapists more than me, then I guess I’m really doomed for hell when I die, if such places as heaven and hell really do exist. I once heard a lady say that she thinks everyone gets to go to heaven, cuz we all have enough hell on earth to live through. That makes sense to a degree. Life is hard. It’s hard, even if you’ve got it all. Life is so unfair, too, or else Amy Fisher wouldn’t be doing all these years in jail for attempted murder, while O.J. Simpson gets off for a double homicide. And it’s all cuz he was rich, famous and male. Amy came from wealth, but she wasn’t famous and she was a female.

SUNDAY, JUNE 29, 1997 Well, Tom’s 40th was yesterday and it didn’t go too well. A part of me feels that was my fault, as well as him just using stuff I said as an excuse to put a guilt trip on me for making him feel bad on his birthday and so he could get me back on mine. I know my next birthday will be a depressing day of hell just like my 30th birthday was, and of course, he’ll deny that he’s gonna get me back. He’s gonna make damn sure I’m not pregnant by my birthday, cuz of my making him wait to go into business if he really wants that as much as he claims to.

Supposedly he got all bummed out when I mentioned him going into business from the house and he said he was depressed cuz of how much it meant to him, but that cuz I had ordered stuff in the mail under bogus names, it was holding him back. I went along with this, but I don’t believe this is really what’s holding him back. He said it means more to him than I realize, but I haven’t heard him mention it, so I didn’t think his heart was really in it. The same goes for the kid. His heart isn’t into it nearly as much as mine and then he goes on about how having to wait for the kid, will make us all the more grateful and cause us not to take it for granted when we get it (like I would really take it for granted after all these years? I don’t think so!). Yeah, I know how he’s making me wait on that for various reasons and how he’s trying to instill patience in me and all that, but there’s nothing to get or to wait for. He just doesn’t get it. He keeps insisting there’s nothing wrong with me and that we’ll have this kid. He is so delusional about this and so in denial and I wonder how many more years it’ll take him to wake up and smell the coffee.

Once again, I know my husband really damn well enough and I can guarantee you right now that he won’t cum when it’s prime time. Good. Then I won’t have to have reality slapped harder in my face when I see that I get a period that I shouldn’t get. I may not like to be set up for reality to be further rubbed into my face, but at least I’ve faced it and am not running around saying I’m OK, I’ll get pregnant, etc.

If he’s so sure he’s gonna cum more and that I’ll get pregnant, then why hasn’t it happened? Cuz he won’t cum more and cuz I can’t get pregnant.

So, we didn’t screw yesterday cuz he was too depressed. If I had known this conversation that I initiated about a home business would bum him out so much, I’d never have brought it up. He says it’s not my fault, don’t worry, we all say things that either depress or anger a person without meaning to, we can move on, etc, but I’m not stupid. I know I’ll be paid back on my birthday and all the more he’s gonna go out of his way to cum less or at the wrong times cuz of this.

Hey, it’s his choice.

Other than that, things have been fine with us. Last night he mentioned screwing today, but I know that was just a tease out of spite. There’s not gonna be any time to screw today and if there is, he’ll be too tired to screw much, cuz after spending about 4½ hours here without touching me, he left to do his mom’s yard and when he gets in in the afternoon, he’s not gonna be in the mood. So, I guess we’re back to part-time sex for a while. We have had some good laughs, though, and have done some fun things in the midst of all this. We went swimming and enjoyed the roast and chocolate pudding pie I made.

He’s also gonna be selling some of the coins that his dad had collected and I just sorted a little jar of pennies by their years. They go from 1920 - 1963. They’re mostly from the 40s and 50s, though.

Unfortunately, it does appear for sure (unless I’m seeing this all wrong) that next door’s basketball hoop has been unlocked. I just hope the neighborhood kids don’t see this.

This is the second weekend that asshole hasn’t been next door, so next weekend he’ll more than likely be here, the fucking filthy piece of scum!

Teddy Bear’s adjusting well. Unlike Piggy and Bunny who are up on and off throughout the days and the nights, he’s asleep in the daytime and up at night. He loves to sleep in the tube. He’s got his favorite spot picked out.

When I got up, I saw him unload a pile of food from his pouches and it looked like he was puking up seeds.

Ma sent back home with Tom a couple of pictures of one of Mary and Dave’s hamsters walking along Dave’s arm.

Perms dry the hell out of people’s hair and I asked Tammy, who always gets perms, what she uses to help with the dryness and the frizziness and she said to go to a salon and get Gold shampoo and conditioner. If that doesn’t help me, nothing will.

THURSDAY, JUNE 26, 1997 We got the hamster yesterday and he’s sooo cute! There are 3 kinds of hamsters. A teddy bear, a pigmy and a dwarf hamster. We got a teddy bear hamster and fittingly, his name is Teddy Bear. And he really really does look like a live, miniature teddy bear. From the back, when he stands upright, he looks like a miniature cat. We checked out 3 stores before I finally picked him out. I had tried to find a short-haired hamster, but not only did they not have any cuz they’re rare, but I’m glad I didn’t find one, cuz this one’s so cute. He’s a solid crème color with a few touches of light brown. He has brown ears, though. His fur is soft and fluffy, but not overly long. Not like a Peruvian guinea pig, so he won’t get so filthy like those do with their 7” long fur. His body is a lot like a guinea pig’s, only he’s about 3 times smaller, has a little stub for a tail and his ears are like that of a mouse. Guinea pigs have mice-like ears, too, but they flop down and over towards their heads.

The guy at the pet store was saying that hamsters look so cute and cuddly, but they’re not and they tend to bite, but he hasn’t bitten me. Guess it’s just my way with animals and him getting used to me during the ride home. Him hearing my voice, I mean, while he was in his little carrier.

When we first put him in his cage, he screamed at us. It was like a combination of a screech and a bird chirping. He did this in rapid succession for about 10 seconds. It was pretty funny. Immediately, though, he calmed down, and even began exploring, eating and wheeling. We thought he’d be shy, not eat and would just basically burrow for a while without moving.

He let me pat him in his cage yesterday and today he let me pick him up a few times. He loves his wheel, but it was so cute and funny how he was riding the outside of it at first. He got it down pat right away but was just on the wrong side. In no time at all, though, he was wheeling away on the inside of it.

It’s so nice to leave the room and not have to worry about it escaping. He’s more flexible and a bit faster than I thought, but he doesn’t have the speed, jumping ability and agility that Gizzy had. In two hops, Gizzy could get from one side of Mary’s cage to the other, but he’s a bit of a klutz. He falls out of one side of the tube, shuffles across to the other tube at the other side, and instead of quickly and easily hopping up into it like Gizzy did, he pulls his bulky little body up into it slowly. When he first went into one of the tubes (he’s asleep in one of them now), he looked like he was squashed in there cuz of his long fur, but he can even turn around in the tubes and I didn’t think he could.

Tom and I filmed him yesterday and I shot some pictures today, then changed the setup and took more pictures.

Since it takes a bit more effort for a hamster to climb the tubes than for a mouse, I decreased the length of his living space from about 5’ to about 2’. I decided he’d prefer a middle ground, instead of having to climb up such a long tube from the aquarium to the shelf that I had had Mary’s cage sitting on, which was about a 5’ climb. So, I put a small piece of Plexiglas on top of one end of the aquarium, put Mary’s house on that, then made 3 branches of tubing. On the right side, I have a straight piece and 2 curved ones that form a backward C with a long straight bottom. This extends slightly over my little worktable that’s next to the desk that his house sits on. On the other side of Mary’s cage are 3 curved tubes and one T that takes him downstairs into the aquarium, but branching off the top of this tube that is the only tube that gets him from the 1st and 2nd levels, is 3 curved tubes that make a partial S shape. It extends in the opposite direction of my desk and it rests on the rim of the aquarium, right over his ring tube that sits by itself in the aquarium.

This is how the aquarium is set up: on the back wall, from left to right is the tube that takes him from level to level, then resting against the back wall next to that is Mary’s purple plastic wheel (he can at least burrow in this, cuz he can’t run on it), then there’s the water bottle. Against the left side of the cage is the ring tube and in front from left to right, is his food dish that I took out of Mary’s cage and the pink wire wheel. I also put in a little wicker basket in Mary’s cage for him to chew on, but I think it’ll be a little too small for him to nestle in.

I got a nice treat in the mail from Kim yesterday. She sent some cards and pads she didn’t want. One of them is a pad of lined paper from the Marriott hotel in Springfield where she had a nursing seminar. Then there are 3 cute stick-it pads that I’ll use for journal notes. One has a teddy bear, one has Garfield and the other has a mouse.

Then there were 16 really cute little cards and envelopes with different mouse designs on them. These are really little too, that you can’t mail them as they’re only an inch or so big. So, I’ll enclose them in people’s letter envelopes. Here are the people who’ll receive cards - Tom, Andy, Laura, Michelle, Kim, Bob, Mom, Dad, Tammy, Bill, Lisa, Becky, Sarah, Larry, Sandy, and Jen.

Lastly, besides a nice 5-page letter that was basically about her and Walter, she sent some birthday, anniversary, sympathy, get-well, and blank cards. There were 10 of them and I’ll save the get-well card for the next time Tom gets a cold or flu. Meanwhile, I don’t have to get any cards till January, with the exception of Hanukah and Christmas cards. I used the sympathy card to send Tammy, Bill and the girls their little cards and explained all that to them. But I’ve got an anniversary card for my folks and birthday cards for Tammy, Bill, Sarah, Kim and Tom’s mom. I used a “thinking of you” card for Andy and for the little cards for him and his roommate and friend.

I spoke to Lisa today who not surprisingly, gave me a slightly different story about Broadway than Tammy did. I knew Tammy was hyping things up. Tammy said that all the music director needed to hear was a few notes of Lisa singing, but Lisa said she was asked to sing more after their concert. Tammy said she was guaranteed a spot on the top of Broadway, but Lisa said the woman said she’d do whatever she could for her and that was it. Yeah, I figured Tammy was BSing me.

I also wasn’t surprised that Lisa said that Tammy ranked on my hair in the last set of pictures I sent her. Typical jealous Tammy - my hair looks like crap, I can’t sing too well, etc. Tammy could grow out her own hair if she really wanted to, I guess, but it’s obvious that she thinks she’s too fat, old and ugly to look good in it, so she’s jealous of mine and my figure and just how I look in general. She basically always has been and I know that no matter what she says and no matter how much she denies wishing she could sing, she’s jealous of that, too. She’s always been jealous of me and the things I can do well and how I look. I guess sisters go through their share of jealousy to a degree. I mean, I wish I had a kid (not 3), but this is bullshit that Tammy should’ve outgrown many many years ago. The only thing that’s changed is that she won’t cut me down out of jealousy to my face. Perhaps this is both cuz she knows that as I got older I refused to put up with it and also cuz she knows I know where she’s coming from as far as that’s concerned, and why she does it.

WEDNESDAY, JUNE 25, 1997 Oh my God! I woke up at 104! I haven’t seen that number in months. I know it won’t last long and that I’ll return to the 108 I usually have been over the last year or so, but see? My parents leave and then I lose weight. If only the “right time” in God’s eyes for the kid was after Tom and my parents met. If only that’s what he was waiting for, but I know much much better.

Nonetheless, I’m still praying daily, as skeptical as I still am about it, cuz he seems to be suddenly answering more of my smaller prayers. Not only did he answer the two sleep prayers, but last night, after I heard that dog for the second time at 1 AM, I prayed about that situation and I haven’t heard the dog since, but who knows what I’m really in for as far as that goes? And who knows how much this really has to do with God or just plain old luck? Some things just aren’t obvious whether or not something that happens is really all that influenced by God, but a kid would be different. That would very obviously be God blessing us with love if he gave us that gift, but you know how God is with me - he chose to give me other gifts. The less natural and common ones like singing, etc. And he gave Tom brains galore and a heart of gold.

Once again, this month’s PMS (I’m due tomorrow), has been a piece of cake, too, and I really feel his not cumming during the right time frame has to do with it. Still, I know deep down that no matter how much he cums at the right time, I will get my period. It’s totally senseless for me to worry about a miscarriage, once again, too, cuz if God really wanted to put me through that (guess he never hated me that much) and wanted me to get all psyched up just to lose it at 2-3 months down the road, this would’ve happened by now. God’s had plenty of opportunities to make sure I had a miscarriage and he never has yet, so why would he start now? I’ll just have to remind myself of this (that I’ll get my period and that I won’t have a miscarriage) the next time Tom cums when I’m mid-cycle.

Only about 9 hours left till we get that hamster!

Poor Marla. I totally sympathize with what happened to her. In her email to me, she enclosed some poems she wrote in the 60s, which were very nice. So, I attached my song file and sent her that. Then, I went to check for mail about an hour ago and there was a message from her saying she just typed me up an enormous email and then she crashed and lost it. She said she’s so frustrated so to be patient with her. Yeah, I know all about that kind of frustration when I’d accidentally delete stuff back when I didn’t know what I was doing very well and would want to delete my life, I’d get so mad and frustrated.

Later…

OK, something’s definitely screwy with the scale. Now it says 107 and I know I couldn’t gain 3 pounds on two cups of coffee and a few bites of mashed potatoes, so Tom’s right - digital scales are screwy. Also, I think it said that humidity affects it. Also, I’ve had it lying on its side. I weighed myself at 104 when the bathroom was dry. Then, I took a shower (the bathroom has no vents, either) and weighed 107. My metabolism can’t be that slow. On an accurate scale, I probably truly weigh 105-107.

I’ve proofread the Oswego and Woodside files and now I’ve got one journal left in the Elm file, then it’s onto the Norwich file - Yuck!

Before Tom left for work he was saying, “I didn’t get no birthday cards today,” in a disappointed tone of voice.

His birthday’s not till Saturday, so I’m sure he’ll get a card from his mom and who knows who else. He has only had one card so far (from my folks), but when he comes home, he’ll have two cuz I just made him one.

Yesterday I managed to stay up 18 hours, so I should have no problem with my teeth cleaning appointment tomorrow. He said he appreciated my noble efforts (he wanted to screw when he got home) to stay up so we could have fun. Well, I do love to have fun myself and I think that’s reason number two as to why my PMS is so much easier to deal with. He didn’t cum, though, cuz it was too close to the last time he came and cuz he had been up 20 hours. In most ways, this gonna be 40-year-old has the energy of a 20-year-old, but for him, cumming and tiredness don’t mix.

Later…

I’m back to 104 again now that the bathroom’s dried up.

I wish we had the extra money to get some of these games registered. Not only would I have an extended and better version of these games if they were registered, but I wouldn’t have to go through the hassles that unregistered games bring. They are a real pain in the ass with all their delays and extra buttons to click.

Just 6 more hours till hamster time and I hope that he doesn’t make me wait too long on him when he gets in, cuz I know he loves that. Anyway, Tom said he wants me to pick out the hamster, but naturally, if they’re too much more expensive than we thought they’d be, we won’t get one today. And if none of them really speak to me, I won’t get one either. Animal shopping is a lot like journal shopping for me. If the right one’s there, it just jumps out at me, so hopefully one of these hamsters will just jump right out at me the instant I see it and will be affordable, too.

Mary and Dave are going to New York for a week, where Dave’s from, so we will be feeding their 4 hamsters while they’re gone, but I’m not sure when they’re going.

TUESDAY, JUNE 24, 1997 Don’t people anywhere give a fuck about their neighbors and about animals? I mean this is fucking great! Just what I need! Someone at one of the houses across the street (I can’t tell which one yet), got a fucking big dog with a fierce, loud bark. A bark like a St. Bernard would have. The front of the house was the only part of the house that was kind of peaceful and now I can’t even have that anymore. Now the living room’s gonna be as loud as the back room is when those two dogs bark. Watching TV and trying to talk to Tom or Andy on the phone isn’t gonna be easy now that I’ve got to listen to this shit in the background. And of course, the dog’s got to be left outside 24 hours a day. Tom says once it gets used to its new surroundings, it’ll stop. Not a chance! I mean, how many more years do those two dogs need to get used to their surroundings? Another 3 years? When I stepped outside to try to see where the dog was, it sounded like it was right at the end of our driveway, so how the fuck can these assholes that got this dog to store as a piece of old yard furniture even sleep?

Later…

Out of all those games I got, there are only 7 games I like and chose to keep. The rest were either full of bugs and they just wouldn’t run, or they were DOS games or just stupid games that I didn’t like. There’s a pretty cool tile game, too, only it uses marbles and not tiles. I only got a few more puzzles, but the coolest thing about it is that from most of my puzzle games, I can open and load any of my Gloria or Norah pictures that I use as wallpaper and screensavers. There are a couple of games I got that appear to be virtually impossible to win. One’s this thing where you click on squares to flip them over till you get the icon you chose and you never know which squares to flip. It’s all a matter of guessing. The other one’s a bunch of blocks and each side of the block has a different color. You must put these blocks into a big square in the form of the pattern they show you. Another one I got that’s just so-so but is OK is this thing where you have to match the color of the square they show you, by sliding color buttons. I believe you have 3 colors - red, green and blue.

That girl Sarah whom I used to be pen pals with for a little while, showed up by surprise at Andy’s place from L.A. Andy says she’s doing well, though.

I hope Andy will find a way to deal with his loneliness, the same way I hope it’ll keep getting easier for me to deal with never having a kid, as it has been. Slowly but surely, I’m getting there and I’ll get by. I don’t have a choice and neither does he. I mean, I wish to hell I was wrong, but he’ll never have his Mr. Right, any more than I’ll have a child. It wasn’t meant to be, or else we’d have had it by now. We all can’t help what we feel, think, believe, or want. But what’s meant to be is what’s meant to be and what’s not is not.

On the other hand, there is one way Andy might stand a chance, whereas I don’t even have a chance. If he just didn’t smoke pot, then maybe, just maybe, he could find a good person. But as long as he’s a user who looks for guys in bars, he hasn’t got a chance. But he still does deserve someone.

I haven’t heard any dogs all night, so that’s good.

MONDAY, JUNE 23, 1997 Before I update, let me back up to some stuff I’ve read along the way of proofreading the Elm file. This is going back to S. Deerfield in 1991-1992.

There are about 3 things I read that make absolutely no sense to me. Why did I always use to say that I couldn’t remember much of my life up till I was 18? It’s just the other way around and people like Andy and Tom got me to see that. I remember almost everything. I remember too much. Way more than most people, I think, and I just don’t believe I could have any traumas that I’ve blocked out like that therapist Cassandra I had suggested. My memory’s just too darn good for that and I remember other traumatic situations I’ve been in, so why wouldn’t I remember all traumas and why would I block any out? So, if someone ever molested me, then yes, it’s blocked out beyond reach and I have no idea of it.

And what Valleyhead secrets? I had written something about not ever being able to write about secrets from there, but there are no Valleyhead secrets. I’ve written exactly what I went through there and what it was like there, just as I honestly remember my experiences to be.

Lastly, not too long before I moved from there to CT, I had mentioned seeing the apartments I was to move to. No, I didn’t. I never saw them till the day I got there and maybe those “nice” apartments I mentioned seeing there were the ones for the elderly that were further up the road. See, the NHA projects were spread down a long road that goes up to the top of a hill. That hill is the end of the line and there’s nothing but woods back there. Well, the part I said I saw must’ve been further up the road, not as far down to the end of this road up top the hill.

And where in the world did I ever get off thinking that any of these project buildings had skating rinks or elevators? The buildings all looked the same, except for the family and single units where I was. When you enter the road, which is long, but a dead-end, of course, all the projects branch off at the sides. Throughout 90% of the road, are small, square, 2-story houses that the old people were in. That was the better, cleaner, less congested, quieter area, but once you hit the top of the hill and the end of the road, everything’s on one floor, except for the family units that are in the middle of the single units. Each building has 4 apartments and is rectangular-shaped. These buildings are set up around a square court where people would park their cars. This is where it was more congested, trashed and noisy. The elderly houses just look like houses on a typical road, but not where I was. Where I was, there were two different types of building setups. The ones with 2-family units in the center, with a single unit on each side of the 2-family units. These were the 4-bedroom family units. The other buildings had 2-3 bedrooms only.

When in the apartment I lived in, if I looked out my front door, I’d see the square court which was the parking lot, and the dumpster. Also, the other 3 buildings. One was directly across from me, its front doors facing me. Then there was one to my left and to my right, its front doors facing into the court, too. To the left of my apartment was a big field that was part of the school. Behind me was all woods. To my right, was Barbara and her wild family, of course.

I’m sure the elderly people had better living conditions, but I know that the apartments I was in were totally condemned with no luxuries of any kind. I didn’t have a shower; just a tub. I had no garbage disposal, dishwasher, or anything there, but a small, filthy dump with paper-thin walls. The living conditions were pretty terrible. There was no door to the bedroom closet, which was more like a long, shallow alcove, than a closet. I had no shades on the windows and no light fixtures. I had nothing there. Nothing but no sleep and no peace and no life.

Anyway, back to the present. We bombed as planned, and went to Denny’s in Scottsdale.

No freeloader nuisances of any kind and God answered my prayers again. I know this was an easy prayer that may have had nothing to do with God after all, but just plain luck of my own. I asked him to please let me sleep till my body decided to wake up (yesterday was stereo day, so I was a bit worried about that and any bomb effects on my asthma), and that’s just what happened. I slept fine.

Now, if only he could answer my prayers for a child, but I know better. We all gotta just accept fate for what it is.

Later…

Poor Andy. I just spoke with him and he’s really bumming over not having a boyfriend and just about life in general. Well, you know me, I don’t believe a boyfriend’s meant to be for him, or else he’d have that by now.

He said that fat Indian called to tell him he’s been dating someone for a week and Andy’s like, that’s not fair! What about me? Yeah, that’s just what I say when I turn on the TV and hear of a 13-year-old getting pregnant, That’s not fair! What about me?

So after thinking about it, I asked myself, then him when he called me? If this guy got someone he’s been seeing for a week, then why would he need to call Andy?

Cuz the boyfriend was out of town for a few days on a business trip, he was bored and just wanted to rub it into Andy and brag about it, no doubt. This is why Andy thinks he called and I agree.

Later…

I just had yet another of my many many theories/beliefs as to why I have been denied the gift of a child. And the woman I had wanted, and the singing career I had wanted, and other things I once wanted quite badly.

Everyone says my mother spoiled me as a child cuz of her guilt about my ear. Tom says I’m spoiled, too. Well, if any of this is true, then I wonder if that’s got anything to do with why most of the things I’ve really wanted really bad were denied to me. Did God, the devil, or whatever up there decide - OK, she was spoiled enough as a kid, so now I’m gonna make sure she can’t have the things she wants most. She has to pay for her mother’s mistakes.

But what about the fact that my childhood was also a living nightmare most of the time? What about the living hell I went through with my parents, others, and the things that weren’t just handed to me? Doesn’t that count for anything? I’ve still had to work for and fight tooth and nail for almost everything I’ve had or done. From life’s basic, everyday things, to things like singing, drawing, etc. You know how it is with me - the more normal and ordinary something is in life - the harder I have to try in order to obtain it. (maybe)

How can I be 109 pounds? Well, I am and I know I’m a few days away from my period, but I don’t feel like I’ve gained 4 pounds in two days. Usually, when I’m over 106, I feel it, so to speak, but now I feel like I did two days ago when I was 105. Has my metabolism really gotten that slow that I could gain two pounds a day? Or am I becoming more solid and gaining muscle weight and not inches, water or fat? Anyway, I don’t feel loaded with water and bloated to the point where I feel I’m gonna burst. And my tits are virtually free of soreness. Guess that vitamin E really does help, cuz I feel pretty good and not like such a blimp for being a few days away from my rag, so to hell with what the scale says, even though I still know I could afford to firm up and lose a good 10 pounds or so.

Andy also told me about something that he’s told me since he got here he’s felt alienated by his family, with the exception of his sisters.

I got a recipe from a gelatin box for Fruity Crème Desert, so I copied it into the index card notebook Ma gave me and I typed it up for her, too.

SUNDAY, JUNE 22, 1997 One more hour till I go get him up. I’ll have to ask him since I don’t know for sure, but I wonder if we can store paper plates and stuff like that in the oven and microwave?

Amazingly, I woke up at 105 pounds a couple of days ago. First time I’ve been that low in months, but I know it won’t last long.

I downloaded 42 puzzle, maze, logic, tile and match games. It took 1½ hours, but I can’t wait to check them out! I went about finding these in a different way. On AOL, not the Internet, I brought up a search form and typed the word “puzzles” and got a list of 250 hits to scroll/check.

The only thing about this method that’s not so cool is that it doesn’t show the game to you like it does with the kid’s games in their game section. I really prefer to see the game’s graphics and layout first, but I’ll just delete those I don’t like as I normally do anyhow.

SATURDAY, JUNE 21, 1997 I’m kind of bored at the moment, not that there aren’t things I could be doing. It’s just one of those nights we all have every so often when we say to ourselves, I could do this or this or that, but I don’t really feel like it right now.

Anyway, I did make a roast earlier and it came out great! Best one I ever tasted and it just melts right in your mouth. It’s not the eye of the round roast that mom and I cooked when mom and dad were here. Tom couldn’t find that, so he got something else (can’t remember what it’s called), and his mom said to cook it the same way. Well, from now on, this is what we’ll get. It’s cheaper, too. Instead of putting a can of whole potatoes and a can of sweet potatoes around the roast, though, I put two cans of whole potatoes around it. I like whole potatoes better than sweet potatoes and I’m sure Tom agrees.

I finished proofreading journal 17 earlier so now I’m down to 58 more to go. I only need to read up till I hit 99 and when I go through the 30s - 70s, it’ll go quicker. The rest are longer and more thorough with no illustrations or letters copied in, etc.

Gizzy still hasn’t been caught, either.

Later…

Boy, was I ever wrong in a great kind of way! Yes, I’m psyched to report that really early in the morning, he came! He came big time. So that once again increased my faith. Not that God will allow us a child, but that things will work out nonetheless, and that my husband is just what he says he is. I’m happy to have pleased him and once again, I feel a lot more normal, so to speak. It also pleases me to know I please him and I’m sorry that my paranoid and suspicious side had kicked in again and that I had thought he was pulling my leg and decided to hang up the juice for quite a while.

Just maybe I will resume praying again (I hadn’t over the last few days) and he sure did answer a prayer of mine earlier.

Me and the fourth hour of sleep just don’t seem to get along. We had caught and freed Gizzy at about 4 AM, so we decided that we’d bomb real early Sunday morning. I fell asleep at 8 AM, then awoke at 12:30 so hungry. So I went and grabbed a couple of granola bars, smoked a cigarette, and begged God to allow me to fall back asleep, cuz if I didn’t, that would’ve screwed up our plans (we’re also hoping to get the hamster on Wednesday when my schedule’s wrapped around enough so I can be up between 10 AM-noon to get it) So, here I was worried that I wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep, praying to God to let me, and the next time I opened my eyes it was just after 4 PM, so that worked out really well.

There have been no cars next door, either, so I’m sure that it’ll be next weekend or the one after that that he’ll be there.

Hopefully, Gizzy’s happy being a free mouse now and has found a little partner. We know that a part of his sudden desire to be free wasn’t just cuz he started off as a wild mouse, but also due to that natural urge to go make babies. Yeah, I know all about natural urges, but at least Gizzy’s been given a shot at that and can get that. I just hope that no cat gets a hold of him, but I can feel that he’s alive out there and is happy.

Later…

Tom’s gonna be crashing in a few minutes, then I’m gonna get him up at 4:00. We’ll bomb, and then go to Denny’s. We only need to be out of here for two hours.

I de-dutied the patio so that when we move the Piggy and Bunny hutch out there, it won’t have to be put down on bird duties. Bunny will be outside while we bomb, of course, but Piggy will come with us in the aquarium that’s been Gizzy’s downstairs area and will be the hamster’s downstairs area. We’ll throw the tubes and the wheel in the hutch. I’ve got to get some preparations done, by covering some stuff. I’ll wash whatever got hit by the bomb that I couldn’t cover or stick in the refrigerator when we get back.

Later…

Just saw yet another spider. Just 7 more hours, you suckers!

I was cruising through the web last night when I found a site with real-life ghost stories, told by several different people and of their experiences with the paranormal.

I’m glad I wasn’t asleep just now. Some guy just knocked on the door cuz he was looking for someone on 31st Dr. Yeah well, he’s a few blocks away at least. First I heard him try the doorknob, so if he doesn’t know this person well enough to know where they live, why would he try the knob? Anyway, I pointed out where I think that address is and he drove off, so I didn’t need to kill anyone tonight.

FRIDAY, JUNE 20, 1997 I’m still waiting for that darn mouse to go into his trap, but so far he hasn’t been in a hurry.

I awoke from bad dreams after only about 4 hours of sleep and was amazingly not tired all day. In fact, I felt the best I’ve ever felt from only 4 hours of sleep since I was around 21. Maybe that’s cuz I slept a long time yesterday, but I’ll need to catch up the next time I crash, so hopefully nothing will disturb me in any way.

I also hope there’ll be no shit from next door.

I swam at dusk and it was so nice and that’s a fine time for it too, cuz that way you know the bees are gone, but you’ve got just enough light to see if there are any dead bugs floating on the water that you don’t want to swim into and have tangled in your hair.

I would’ve died of a heart attack if I had been the one to encounter what Tom encountered on his way to work outside the garage door. One of those huge, scary and disgusting spiders. He said it was just about as big as his hand.

THURSDAY, JUNE 19, 1997 Well, Gizzy sure wasn’t home for very long. He escaped last night, so this time - he’s out of here! I still love that darn little cute mouse, so if he wants his freedom so bad and if that’s what’ll make him happy - so be it. I’ve got the trap set up and he’s probably asleep now and won’t be caught till well after sundown.

Tom set up the 10 games I downloaded and there are 3 of them I like. They’re cute little matching games, but the others were a bore and I didn’t get as many drawing ideas as I thought I would, but that’s OK.

I’m going back and forth in my mind from feeling like maybe the reason why Tom either doesn’t cum or cums so little, is cuz of me. One minute I feel it’s him, then me, and I always feel like there’s a third party at work too, that’s involved in this. As involved as we are. Maybe more.

Maybe I have been a selfish, paranoid, spoiled, negative, pushy bitch. I don’t know. Tom did say that he always thought counting cycles was negative and unnecessary and that it wasn’t helping him, but that he thought it was important to me. Not if it’s a bother to him. Besides, I can see a couple where a guy cums regularly, doesn’t get the woman pregnant, then they count. So, for us to count really is a waste. He also says yet again that if I quit trying to fix things, things will work out and he won’t feel like I stopped caring as I worried he would if I just seemed to have given up on it and also with suggesting stuff to do to help us. Maybe he’s right and he’s gotten me to see things in a whole new light. I had always thought that if you had a problem, you should do everything you can to fix it, but perhaps not. Trying to fix and not trying to fix my smoking situation has never worked, but we did have to fix the stereo. And then there are the weight problems I’ve had on and off during my life. Sometimes, I’d try to fix that to no avail, give up, but then it’d fix itself and I’d lose weight. So maybe it depends on the situation you’re in and are dealing with.

It’s time to really start giving my husband the benefit of the doubt, shut up, and see what happens. I still believe we’re not destined for a child per orders of something up there, but just maybe I really have been too hard on him and as a reminder to myself - there have been things I swore he wouldn’t or couldn’t do and I called him a liar about these things, but he was the one who ended up right and I was wrong. So like I said, I’ll just back off, stop trying to fix this, be negative in my mind only if I can’t help but feel negative and try not to speak out loud any negative, skeptical or paranoid thoughts, and just see what he does and what happens. For all I know, he may truly believe in his mind that this is our ticket to a child, but be totally wrong (naturally), but there’s only one way we’ll find out if it’ll help him to at least get off more and that’s by doing what I just said I was gonna do. It may be hard at times, but for now, if I have to just write my thoughts down or talk to the animals or the walls, that’s what I’ll do if it’ll help make things better. Even Marla suggested this.

I don’t know if I should keep up the praying to God as I said before, cuz that would be asking for him to fix things and that wouldn’t be just letting time see if it could fix itself and I’m still sure God’s not on our side and that there’s no help from him. If he hasn’t answered my prayers in 3 years, why would he answer them now?

Tom says he doesn’t blame me for anything, but I told him that if I’m responsible in any way for us not having a child now, then I’m truly sorry.

I think I’ll go for a swim tonight after the bees go to bed. The pool’s now perfect for nighttime swims.

WEDNESDAY, JUNE 18, 1997 I have decided to stop the daily praying to God. Since I’ve been doing this, there have just been too many problems. My lungs have been worse and I’ve been more depressed, so I’m hanging it up. Whatever it is up there that’s always dealt with me and my life, be it God or the devil, it doesn’t give a shit about me, so why should it start giving a shit now? Let it not give a shit. Let it think I don’t deserve a child. Let it not help me after I’ve tried to help myself. But I’ll be damned if I’ll let it hurt me by this and rule my life any more than it already has. God may control my body, but I’m gonna be the one controlling my mind for once. I’m not gonna waste my time bullshitting myself by telling myself I’ll have a child. I’m gonna be strong and tell myself what’s meant to be and what’s not and just deal with it. Life has to go on. If anything, I think I’d have a hell of a better chance at telling myself I don’t want a kid and why I shouldn’t have one, than trying to convince myself I will have one. I said I was gonna make a game out of what’s reality here, so maybe it’s time to start writing and thinking in terms of reality - that it’s a good thing it’s not meant to be, I’d be just like my mother, have no freedom, the marriage would suffer, etc. Then I can really feel blessed by telling myself I have a God-given built-in birth control system for my own good and protection and be glad that we can always “miss it.”

Not only can I not force Tom to cum, to go to a doctor (which wouldn’t help) and to want a child more than he does, I can be grateful for what I do have and for how things are and just go with the flow of them. There’s no use fighting fate and I’ll admire my strength and determination to walk away from and stop fighting fate and dreams that are just dreams.

Tom was really tired yesterday and I had asked him if he was glad that things wouldn’t be changing and he said no. Well, I know he is glad that things won’t be changing and at least he knows and admitted that.

Anyway, it’s time to think of him for once and not for myself. If he’s happy not cumming and if he really doesn’t want to go to a doctor or be a dad, then God and I will be happy for him that he’ll get his way.

Enough baby talk for now and onto other things and onto real life.

Marla said she told Andy the same things I’ve told him. That the pot makes him too air-headed and forgetful and that he’s looking for Mr. Right in all the wrong places. When it comes to guys, friends and roommates, he has this particular fascination with the druggie. I know, though, that it’ll be hard for him to find someone that’s clean, even if wanted that. Most folks just aren’t too clean and he would have a hard time finding a drugless person as he himself is a user. A drugless person isn’t usually gonna go for a user.

Boy, was it a scorcher out there today. A high of 114º. The pool is like bathwater.

Tom picked up a nice appointment book. He was gonna use his laptop, but he hadn’t really kept up on it like I thought he wouldn’t. The keys were screwed up, though. Well, hopefully, he won’t waste this nice new appointment book he got and will organize his time better with it. He had said he wanted to do this to free up more time. It’s to divide the time spent with me/us/household stuff and time spent with his mom, in a way that’ll allow him to use time better.

So far, we’ve still been having more sex which is nice, but I’m curious to see how long he can keep up with it, even though I know his cumming days are over. Or are over for quite a while.

I wonder, though, why did he want to count my cycle last month and this month? He had said that he didn’t think that was necessary and I agreed to go along with that, so I don’t know what he’s up to other than teasing or God only knows what. He had said we’ll start 3 days earlier next month, but that’d be really pointless as long as he chooses not to cum.

I caught Gizzy last night. He had been trapped in Tom’s little room, so he opened the door a crack at about 10:30, and about two hours later, I trapped him in the kitchen by the stove.

Whenever we get a hamster (and I expect Tom will have me “wait” on this), we’ll probably set him free. That way I don’t have to worry about his escaping and it’s a bitch to try to clean the cage or to try to move an animal (if we bomb) that’s wild and that just cannot be tamed. I can’t just go pick him up like I can with the pig and the rabbit. And like I could with a hamster.

Later…

Oh, so next door’s getting in at around this time these days, huh? At least I only knew so due to hearing the car door, but that’s probably cuz it wasn’t him. I think it was her female friend. I can’t wait to see what he does the next time he’s over there, but I just hope to hell he never ever moves back in there, cuz then there’s gonna be lots of trouble around here and I’d rather not have to deal with it. I know that if I really wanted to or needed to I could make them scared enough of me to not play their music above a whisper and to not do anything to the house or in the way of complaints, but I’d rather not have to deal with the stress of that. They’re not worth it. No one is. I’d just rather have my sleep and peace around here without having to kick ass for it or scare anyone for it. It’s like with how I bitch about how people shouldn’t have to work for a child. Well, no one should have to work for peace around their house, either. Not unless they do have a child, cuz that goes with the territory. If we had had a child, we certainly wouldn’t have been able to hear ourselves think around here, that’s for sure.

OK, I think I’ll go get some proofreading done now.

Later…

As I sit here, I do some thinking and I wonder - did I ever really want a child as bad as I said? Well, the answer’s yes. If I could snap my fingers and be pregnant now I really would do so, even if God would be just as quick to snap his fingers and make sure I lost it. If Tom begged me to see a doctor as time passed without a baby resulting, and if he was encouraging all the way through due to my belief that God would foul it all up for us, then I would go to a doctor. But this isn’t gonna happen. He can live without a child just fine and even though he says he wants one, any guy that can say “OK, fine,” when a woman says they won’t have a child, as I’ve done at times, can’t be all that serious about wanting one. After saying it was fine, I know he’d never have said one word pertaining to still wanting one or one word to try to change my mind and that tells me right there, that he was never that serious.

So, my point is, maybe it’ll be easier to give up than I ever thought it would (not that I have a choice), knowing he doesn’t want a child that bad and knowing a doctor couldn’t beat God for us and win. Maybe I just don’t think a child is worth the risk of God punishing me for going to a doctor’s office. And maybe a child’s not worth trying to “make” my husband want a child as bad as me and to cum more and this is something I certainly could never do anyway. Tom has to want to cum and to cum a lot and to want the child enough to see a doctor of his own free will. No one else can make him. He will not cum on command, therefore, if we went to a doctor now, in 5 years or 10 years, and they tell him to cum so they can either test his sperm or use it to fertilize an egg, there’s no way he’ll do this. It’s more important that he not cum for a reason and cuz some doctor said to (even if he agreed to it) than to have a child. So as long as Tom’s the way he is, we don’t have a fighting chance and we certainly don’t stand a chance against God who doesn’t give a shit and who won’t help us at all. God could’ve made sure we hit it right when he was cumming. Or he could’ve made sure one got away from his pre-cum and hit an egg, but no. God does not want to see us help ourselves. God does not want to help us. God does not want us to succeed.

As long as Tom’s gonna run around saying he’ll cum more and I’ll get pregnant, which is bullshit, then I can’t care enough to do anything more than I already have to try to get pregnant. If he came more or suggested a doctor to help him cum more and to see about what we could do to get me pregnant, then yes. I may care more and not feel so much like giving up. And this is regardless of the fact that I could never be allowed a child, anyway. Let him be the one to decide he wants a child and to suggest a doctor for once. I know this won’t happen as I said, but if it did, then I’ll go to the doctor and get a miscarriage. For now, though, as far as I’m concerned, my husband either subconsciously, consciously or both, doesn’t want a child that bad, so he doesn’t cum and he doesn’t push for seeing a doctor and therefore, I care less, knowing I can’t make him feel the way I feel.

Let him do what he does best - tell me he’ll cum more and I’ll inevitably get pregnant. Meanwhile, I’ll give up and call it the hopeless, closed chapter of my life that it always has been.

I downloaded 10 little cute kids’ games for drawing ideas. I still don’t have the smarts to unpack them, so hopefully Tom can do it soon.

I gotta go get him up soon.

Why do I have a feeling that the frequent sex we had was just to please me, as well as something else I recently wrote about, and that it’s coming to an end? Well, if he’s hoping I’m gonna beg him for it to pick up again, he’s wrong. I’m not gonna be teased or played with.

I’m recording a movie now too, so I can zip through the baby commercials all about home pregnancy tests, not doing drugs while pregnant, getting an AIDS test before pregnancy, etc.

TUESDAY, JUNE 17, 1997 I’m sitting here trying to get online, but that’s not looking very possible. That’s probably cuz I had been online for so long earlier and they don’t want me hogging up one of these cheap asshole’s lines for too long. I’m trying to find online books to print out.

Still no sign of Gizzy and am pretty sure he got out of the house.

I’m making chicken wings now.

I woke up wheezing after 4 hours of sleep (if you’re gonna wake up with an attack, it’s always at the 4th hour of sleep), but 45 minutes later I had it under control and went back to sleep for another 5 hours.

AOL is really ridiculous and it looks like they’re just not gonna let me online.

MONDAY, JUNE 16, 1997 Tom’s running some errands now, but I guess he’ll be in any second now.

Although I’m still doing better as far as my mental state goes, I’m rather depressed today. All this praying to God, listening to those who say we’ll have a kid, trying to tell myself things will work out, is just a joke. I know what I know. Dreams that have been dreams for years don’t just suddenly jump out at you and become a real-life thing. I’ve heard people say that they prayed for years to get stuff they’ve wanted. Well, I’ve been praying for years and I haven’t gotten what I’ve wanted, so that’s a sign enough that I’m asking for the impossible. There is just no way I’ll ever have a child. And there really is something up there that wants to see me hurt by this and that doesn’t like me.

I can’t believe I even brought up the idea of seeing a doctor next year. Like that’d really do us any good? Yeah right! Something hasn’t allowed me to become pregnant for a reason. Therefore, if any doctor sticks a fertilized egg in me, it’s just gonna be removed. Stolen. Taken away forever.

Another thing is, I know now for sure that Tom has gone back to not cumming and it’s of his own doing and his own desire to do so and I know this is a long-term thing. Meaning, if he ever cums again, we’re talking another 2½ years or so that he’s gonna refuse to cum. He can blame me, he can blame the heat, he can blame his racing heart, he can blame anything, but it’s his own choice and free will that’s doing this. This is why he’s been reassuring me that things are “perfect” and that I’m so great in bed. Cuz he doesn’t want me to feel guilty for something that he’s chosen to do. After thinking about it, I realized that it’s not only obvious that he’s quit cumming since it’s been two months since the last time he came, but there is no more room in my mind for doubt about this. I’m 100% sure he’ll either not cum again for a very long time or never again. Yeah well, there’s no way in hell I’m going to go to a fertility doctor, let alone both a sex counselor, as well as a fertility doctor, cuz I just couldn’t deal with it and it wouldn’t do me any good. I’d never win and get what I wanted.

I also know that God has a big part in this, too. Meaning, if he didn’t want Tom to quit cumming, he’d influence Tom, probably without Tom even knowing it, and Tom wouldn’t want to quit.

I also wonder if this having more sex lately is both a cover and a show. Perhaps it’s to ease his guilt and to compromise with me in his own way, by giving me more sex, cuz he knows he’s not gonna cum. And perhaps he said to himself, Well I don’t want to cum anymore and I don’t want to see her go through a miscarriage and I don’t really want a kid all that much, but to cover this up, I’ll give her sex more often with the hopes of her not suspecting the truth.

He said that the more he screws, though, the more he cums. Well, we’ve been doing an awful lot of screwing lately, so why isn’t he cumming?

People work building houses. People pay money for cars. But you can’t put a price on life. People aren’t supposed to work for and pay for kids. But if they must - why can’t some teenager work her ass off for it for once? And why can’t some murderer go out and “buy” a 5,000-dollar or more baby? I’m not gonna work for and pay for what God and nature intended for people to have naturally and effortlessly.

Later…

God, this business that calls all the time just doesn’t give the fuck up! It comes up as only unavailable on the box with no name or number and they only let the damn phone ring twice. Like most people can get to the phone that fast? I don’t think so.

When I got up at 10 AM I noticed that Gizzy escaped, since I took the Plexiglas sheets off of the top of the aquarium, which made it easier for him to get out. Tom noticed he wasn’t in his cage, too, a couple of hours earlier. So, Gizzy’s not happy with just his wheel and home, huh? Well, we talked about it and we’re gonna get a hamster. I’m tired of animals that can jump and escape so easily, whereas hamsters are kind of fat and bulky and can’t jump any better than guinea pigs can. I think Gizzy’s escaped through the large enough crack in the back door, but if I catch him, I’ll keep him till we can afford to get a hamster, then I’ll set him free. It’s time for him to return to the wild. I love him, but he’s too much trouble and just isn’t worth it.

SUNDAY, JUNE 15, 1997 I’m back to say that we had a wonderful anniversary and God actually answered my prayers! Not a peep out of next door and nobody attempted a ballgame for 5 minutes or more, either.

We went to see his ma and he took her to church. While she was in church I played some computer games and sat in her chair that vibrates to give massages. It was OK. Nothing great. You can vibrate the seat of the chair, as well as the back of it, but nothing replaces a good pair of hands giving you a massage.

I got a kick out of how Ma said I wear sundresses well and that my bust is high and my stomach’s flat. I still may be high-chested, but my stomach’s anything but flat.

Then we went to Baskin Robbin’s and he got a malt and I got a caramel sundae.

As we were pulling into our driveway, I saw a royal blue car parked next door, but it left soundlessly.

When we arrived here at the house, which was around noon, there was a message from my dad and one from Andy.

Dad wished us a happy anniversary and Tom a happy birthday.

Andy’s message was kind of rude and selfish. When I talked to him yesterday I had mentioned that today was our anniversary, but instead of wishing us a happy anniversary, he bitched about his problems. Bitching about his problems is fine with me, but perhaps he’s a bit envious. I know he’d love to be having a third anniversary with a great guy, and like Marla and I both agree, as well as others, I hope he’ll have that chance someday.

Yesterday, after he bitched about Laura (it’s like Laura’s the old me and I’m now Brenda since he used to bitch to her about me when he lived with me), I left him a message letting him know that he’s still a good person, regardless of what she’s done wrong to him. Or even anything he may have done that he shouldn’t have. And also that he’s not the old Andy M and he is a good roommate. He was really pleased to hear this and thanked me for it, saying it was a nice thing to say. I think it cheered him up a bit and that’s nice to know.

So, about an hour after we got home, we screwed, then planted the cactuses, then screwed again a few hours later. It was great, but of course he still won’t cum and I’m still just not sure whether he really can’t for various reasons right now, but will cum soon, or if he’s deliberately decided he’s gonna quit cumming. Time will tell, I guess, but cuz I know I’m not destined for a kid and cuz he has finally cum after 2½ years, I’m not as worried about it. He has to do what he has to do.

I told him I was a bit paranoid that it was me not being good enough and how I’m sorry I can’t always satisfy him, cuz I do love him so very much and he said things are great, and if I love him, I’ll relax and let things be. He has a point, but I told him to remember not to think I stopped caring or that I won’t do my best to please him in any way, cuz that’s my job as his wife who loves him.

I also spoke to Kim, who I had been worried about, cuz I hadn’t heard from her by way of phone or mail, but she’s doing well enough. She’s been busy, but she’s still with Walter and I’m glad for her.

I got a kick out of next door watering a good 5 feet or so of our yard. No, I wouldn’t have been pissed if I’d had clothes on the line, since that got drenched, cuz I’d have just left them out there longer. I asked Tom if he thought it was deliberate or if she just didn’t know any better and he said it was probably cuz she didn’t realize how she set it up. So, the clothesline, the hedges, the bird of paradise tree, and one palm tree, got watered quite well.

I still can’t believe that for it being Sunday, I haven’t heard one stereo go blasting by. On a typical Sunday, you usually hear that about 4 times a day here. And I’m also pleased to know that next door’s been quiet, but who knows at what volume he’ll come in at during the one or two weekends a month he’s here, but I can deal with a few times a month a whole hell of a lot better than I could deal with a few times a day like in the past.

SATURDAY, JUNE 14, 1997 Well, I screamed at next door this morning. At fucking 6:30 in the morning, right after I got up, they had their music playing, so I went out and screamed at them about that and the time, then slammed the door on them. It was that burgundy car and some guy I’d never seen before was at the passenger door, then what I think was the woman that lives there, was walking towards the car as I was yelling at them. I’m sure asshole Mike was behind the wheel, but I couldn’t see.

Tom saw me do this, so naturally, I thought he was gonna be pissed off at me all day, but all he said was that the music wasn’t too loud and I should’ve waited 5 or 10 minutes, but that the music was only going on for a minute or two. And that he hopes they won’t lodge a complaint to the city about our weeds or our old, deteriorating roof.

First off, I’m sure that if they’re gonna “get me” for my outburst, it’ll be by playing music louder and more often and by way of obnoxious parties. Secondly, no it wasn’t that loud, but the point of the matter is, is that I could hear it enough and I’m not gonna take their rude and obnoxious shit and I don’t care how often it is or for how long each session lasts. I don’t want to hear them. I don’t want to know that they exist. And I’m not gonna put up with them. I haven’t put up with them for months and that was the end of it back then and my days of dealing with disrespectful neighbors are over. I’m not going back to the old days when I tell them nicely over and over just to get no results and have my requests for them to turn their music down fall upon deaf ears. Now, I know that God’s not gonna let me just walk away from this and I know that this won’t be the end. Yes, after I yelled, they turned the music off and left quietly, but I’m not stupid. I know God will get me for this by either having them come blasting in like hell later on, or by him having something else go wrong in my life, but I’m not gonna just sit back and take it, either. If I hear their music again and if it’s above a faint whisper, they’re gonna wish to hell they never moved into that house!

Well, Tom was cool about it and he understood, but he also knows that I believe there are boundaries and limits set on when to worry about retaliation and all that and when it’s time to speak up. Really speak up, since talking nicely and quietly doesn’t do shit with people like this.

Later…

Oh shit! I really think history is repeating itself here. He and her and whoever that guy was that was with them is still gone, but now there’s someone over there doing a very thorough job on their lawn, and that spells out p-a-r-t-y to me. And the thing of it is, is that they all went somewhere in the morning last year, too, before coming back to party from around 2:00 till God knows when. Well, he stood at the house at the time, then she and that nice lady that I said hello to once, took off somewhere, but then came back and it was party time. At this time, though, right before or right after they took off, the grounds were being done.

I’ll bet that the Saturday and Sunday of the 7th and 8th, the only reason why they didn’t party was cuz perhaps all the people weren’t available, but let me guess - they’re gonna come blasting in in a couple of hours, then they’re gonna party till at least 10 PM. Meanwhile, Tom will be here (he’s at his ma’s now) and he won’t want me to shut them up for fear that they’ll do something to the house. Or lodge a complaint against us.

Well, if they don’t party, I better enjoy the peace while I can and until it’s the best time to really set them straight permanently, cuz I know that both God and they are gonna make sure that they make their arrival back here very well known. I wish I could say otherwise and that they just went on a day trip somewhere, but will quietly return later and that the car will take off for 2-3 weeks, as usual, then all will go back to how it has been over the last several months, but I know better. If I let him have his way, he’ll always blast in and out, no matter how often or how little he stays over there.

Tomorrow, Tom and I are gonna go visit his ma, then we might go to a Denny’s or someplace like that. That would be nice, although it’ll be crowded and full of screaming kids, cuz parents today don’t know how to properly discipline their kids. And you don’t need to be violent to do so, either. It’s just that they don’t give a shit and people with kids think they own the world.

Well, I’m a bit nervous now, but I will enjoy the peace while it lasts. I’ll be back later to let you know that yes, they came in very loudly and/or partied, too, as I know that if not both, then one of these things will happen.

Gotta finish up the laundry, do the dishes, and finish proofreading journal 15. Then I’ll have 60 left to do.

I just realized something else, too. If they really do have a big party like last year, there’s not only gonna be about 4 vehicles coming and going and about 8 adults, but there’ll be at least 4 kids and you know what they’re gonna want to do? Yup. Play ball. So today will probably be the day my little lock will be discovered, and all they have to do is untangle it and pull it off, cuz I couldn’t actually lock the damn thing.

Later…

Amazingly, no one’s come in yet next door. Maybe they really have gone on either an all-weekend or an all-day trip, but I’m still really curious to hear how they’re gonna return, even though I’m sure I know what to expect.

Just talked to Andy and he’s having a hard time with his roommate. Like I told him, if he’s got to have a roommate, why must it always be a druggie who’s always broke, cuz they spend all their money on drugs? Can’t it be a clean roommate? Then again, clean people are a lot less common than druggies are.

Marla just told me the biggest piece of bullshit she’s ever told me. And if it’s the truth, then yes, I was very right in my belief that the more you don’t want kids, the more you have them and vice versa. She said she’s had 3 abortions prior to having her two boys and that she gets pregnant very easily. She said she’s gotten pregnant on the pill, with rubbers, and by the rhythm method. That is so unfair! I’d normally say that that’s not scientifically possible, but yes, it is, with the way God, the devil, or whoever is just so obsessed with giving kids to those who want them least. What did God do when he created people? Sit there and decide that those who want kids less shall get them and vice versa? And why? If I were the master of creation, I would want to give kids to those who did want them. That only makes sense, doesn’t it? I wonder, though, how many times would I have gotten pregnant if I didn’t want them? How many abortions would I have had? How many kids would I have living with me? Or taken away? Or put up for adoption? Well, I want a kid, therefore, I can’t have one.

Later…

Tom’s opinion of what Marla said was that she is full of shit, cuz the pill, condoms, and the rhythm method, cuz these methods are virtually fail-proof. Regardless of what she was or wasn’t on, though, the fact still remains that something up there gave her 3 unwanted babies and hasn’t given me one wanted one and that’s really unfair and it really sucks.

Next door still hasn’t been in yet, but I heard some kids (which ones, I don’t know) use the basketball hoop for about 5 minutes, then they were gone. I don’t know if they left due to them not being able to use it or cuz they just felt like it, but sometimes I’ll have to see if I can see if they got the lock out.

I know this isn’t over. God’s not gonna let me off the hook and let me get away with this morning’s outburst no matter how much I beg him to and I’m worried about tomorrow (I think Tom may be getting a kick out of my worrying about them and feel I deserve it). How much will they ruin our anniversary?

FRIDAY, JUNE 13, 1997 I just made a couple of pork chops, so Tom can have them when he gets in if he wants them.

I called Tammy yesterday who told me her latest family medical problems, then something about Lisa’s singing and the first thing I asked myself was - how much of this is cuz she may be jealous of my own ability to sing and to simply impress me? And also - how much of what she and Lisa have been told is true and not just talk? If she and Lisa were really told what I’ll soon get into.

First she told me that Becky was home recovering from her knee surgery. Tom was surprised they put her out just to give her a shot of cortisone in one knee and to drain fluid from the other, but perhaps it’s cuz she’s only 10. Tammy said that they let her put on scrubs and a mask to go into the OR with her cuz she’s an RN. She’s not an RN, as I know how much she likes to exaggerate and impress people, and even Larry pointed out her bragging about being an RN when she’s really just a nurse’s aide.

Becky’s out of school for the year and her class gave her a farewell party.

Then Tammy filled me in with the latest plans to help tackle her thyroid problem.

Then she told me that Lisa sang a few lines at the end of a song with her chorus (which she played for me and was very good), then some woman said she wanted to take her all the way to Broadway. Tammy said all she needs to do is maintain a C average and she can tour and make it to the top for sure. Well, this sounds a little too good to be true, but for Lisa’s sake, if this is what she wants, I hope it’s for real and that it works out. But to go into a school in a small town and offer this to a 14-year-old? I just don’t know. You never know when it comes to stories told by my dear sister. She may not be as much of a liar as she used to be and she may not be into cutting others down in the way that she used to be, but she still likes to imply that others aren’t either very smart or talented and she likes to impress people by hyping things up and twisting the truth around. Still, no matter how well my kid sang if I had one, if someone made that kind of an offer, I’d be wary and would want to make sure I wasn’t dealing with another Scott M. I just hope it’s not all hot air, though, as the business is full of that and false promises galore.

Later…

Got a nice anniversary card from my parents.

Tom and I wrote what we thought our marriage was on a scale of 1-10 on separate pieces of paper, then swapped them. I wrote an 8½ and he wrote a 9. I thought he was gonna write a 7, so I was pleased.

THURSDAY, JUNE 12, 1997 I’m a bit bummed out right now, I must admit. All I can do is think and cry out for the chance to know and experience what it’s like to carry a child, to have a child and to raise a child. To watch it grow, to watch it learn, etc. But what will happen when he gets home? For the third day in a row, we’ll screw and he won’t get off and God will continue to ignore my prayers.

I keep thinking of that woman Shelly told me she knew. It was so meant to be for this woman, who had a period every 7 years only, to have a child. Why not us? I get all my periods, so why can’t it be meant to be for me to get pregnant? Why can’t it ever, for once and for all, be meant for me to have a normal sex life where my husband cums regularly, and for me to have a pre-thought-of dream come true? Yes, California, which was a pre-thought-of dream came true, as did his cumming, but I want a child way more than I could’ve ever wanted to go to CA, and his cumming doesn’t mean as much if it’s never gonna result in a baby. Yes, his cumming makes me feel a bit more normal and like I’m satisfying him more, but I’d feel a lot more normal if he’d cum regularly and if it’d make a kid.

All I know is that I still don’t see what I did so wrong to deserve this curse that’s been hanging over me, whether it’s a family curse, one that’s pitted just on me, or whatever. People who have done worse than me go on to have kids. So why must I be sentenced to life without just one child? Just one child! When will I ever be allowed to move on? When will old patterns be put to rest? (The fact that there’s always something out of the ordinary as far as sex goes with anyone I’ve had sex with and the fact that there’s always a problem with my getting something I dream of the most and want worse than anything else). Can’t I just have a top long-term dream come true? Can’t I just have a normal sex life?

And also, I’m still not sure whether or not Tom really has gone back to his old ways and has gone back into escalating the teasing, but it looks that way. I mean, yesterday was weird. First he makes me wait on him, and then he was using me as an excuse again.

To start from the beginning, what was probably a stolen car was parked by our house. The cops came to dust it for prints, then to tow it away. Meanwhile, Tom had just got home and he said he wanted to cool off, then go to the bathroom. Then he got out of the bathroom and I thought he was ready for sex, but then with a grin on his face, he said we had to wait a while in case the cops knocked on the door wanting to know if we knew anything about the car. So then I went and played computer games. Then he came in and told me that in case I didn’t know, he thinks that we may have jumped into it too soon yesterday, so he just wanted to unwind and relax a bit more first.

Then, why didn’t he say that to begin with?

Then we finally got into bed and he said he wanted to relax there first, too, and I said OK, give me a signal to let me know when you’re ready to get started. I thought he was ready and it seemed I got him plenty hard enough by hand, but then when he went to go in there, he deflated. At first I wondered if the fan was drying me up (we’ve cranked the cooler down and blasted the fan on us so he can’t use his being too hot as an excuse), but then he said I wasn’t dry. He just hadn’t been fully hard or ready and I had jumped the gun on his signal. Then why didn’t he say so? I asked him this and he said he figured he’d try, anyway. So I said that there was always tomorrow and he asked if I wanted to continue. I reluctantly agreed while I was thinking - you guys are never gonna succeed, nothing’s gonna ever change, you’re feeling teased and played with by this curse and by Tom, so just go swimming or something. However, he did get in there shortly after and I was like - thank you, God! I couldn’t believe the tables turned and he got in there and was pleading in my mind for there to be no catch, but sure enough, there was. There always is. Of course, that catch was his not cumming. He asked if I was OK and I said yes, but then how did he use me as an excuse to stop this time? By saying he felt like my lower gut was tense. Please! That’s when he claimed to have had a mini get-off, but I don’t know. I just don’t know. I want to believe him, but how much of what he said and did was truly sincere and honest and not meant to tease me? Or to get out of the possibility of my conceiving, so he wouldn’t have to deal with me having a miscarriage or having it? And, how much of it wasn’t him at all trying to tease me and control what happens? How much of it was or wasn’t God or this curse?

He may as well have another number two again, where he gets in there and doesn’t cum, cuz if he came today, I really think it’s too late, so that’d turn it into a number 3 where he cums and I get my period and my prayers ignored.

Later…

We’ve had a cooling spell where the temps are only in the low to upper 90s and of course, that brings the kids out to scream where the dogs live. So, I decided that I didn’t want to listen to them scream and that I’d give the pool a break during the cooler spell since I got a slight burn yesterday.

Again a number two, where he got in but didn’t cum. Still, I am in a very good mood. Maybe that’s cuz we just made the first major accomplishment towards trying to get me pregnant if I’m OK and if nothing up there will stop us. We screwed the 3 days that are most likely for me, so that’s got me feeling better, and the fact that Tom wants to screw 3 days earlier next month (a total of 6 days in a row). Besides the kid we want, it’s fun for us both and I don’t miss wanting more sex.

I’m not mad at God, as I thought I’d be, for not helping him to cum and for me to conceive (at least he got in there and I had been worried about that), cuz I realize that it may take time for God and I to establish a relationship. In other words, I guess one can’t go from cussing God out to trying to get closer to him overnight after they’ve come to believe that it was a devil and not God who had a part in the bad things I’ve gone through, the not getting pregnant up till now, etc. So, I think he’s gonna want to test my faith and consistency with my prayers to him before he fully forgives, not forgives, but before he’ll be more likely to listen to my prayers and to do something to help us. I only began praying steadily to him about two weeks ago, so no, I don’t have any hard feelings towards him.

I think next month, will be better. Tom is getting closer to going over the edge and I think that by next month things will be OK with that.

Another thing that’s got me in a good mood is that I agreed to try to quit smoking if he’d agree to keep the sex going, cum as regularly as he can and go to a doctor with me in the new year if we haven’t had any luck by then. I told him why I thought this would help me and help us as a couple, but that I didn’t want him to go along with anything that made him feel either controlled or pressured or whatever. He agreed, though. I’m sure we can still keep up the sex and see a doctor in the New Year, even if I don’t succeed, but this will hopefully increase my chances. Naturally, though, it goes without saying that I hope we won’t need a doctor and that I’m still superstitious and would fear a miscarriage, but we all have to take chances in life and I want to move on and continue to do all that can possibly be done to get the child we want, and I’m sure Tom agrees.

Perhaps the fact that I’m feeling more uppity, hopeful and positive is just a big fat joke and I’m being a bit delusional here for nothing, but I can’t help it and it’s better than crying every other day like I spent way too many years doing.

It’s just that it comes down to these things: I want my husband to be happy, as he is my number one. So much so, that if he came out and said a child would make him unhappy, I’d be sad and sorry he felt that way, but so be it. The other things it comes down to are that I want regular and consistent sex, to please and satisfy my husband, and for us to have a child.

Tom told me I can talk about the things that mean so much to me as much as I want, but I’m working hard and will continue to work hard at talking about it less negatively and I shall close this entry now, without a harsh word to God. And without any suspicious feelings towards my husband.

I forgot to mention yesterday’s dust devil. It was quite wild. A dust devil is where there’s a small stream of wind that gushes through. Almost like a mini-tornado. Once, Tom and I were in the pool and the trees across the street were really whipping, but the trees behind us were perfectly still. Yesterday, however, I was sitting out tanning, the wind was dead calm, then all of a sudden it was incredibly windy for a few minutes, then it went dead calm again.

Why aren’t I sad and thinking to myself - God hates me? He didn’t hear a word of my prayers, and if he did, he doesn’t give a damn, I’ll never have a kid, etc. Well, I’m just not feeling that way and it’s better than that constant depression I had for so long. Don’t get me wrong, I know I’ll never have a child, and I’ll always have my times where I’ll cry about it and I’ll be sad to have to miss out on a child, and I’ll feel it’s unfair and that something up there doesn’t like me and wants to always control me, but at least I don’t have to live where it’s always making me cry. I know Tom could cum every day and that it still wouldn’t and couldn’t impregnate me and neither could a doctor and I know my prayers will always go unheard. Or at least ungranted, but at least I feel that I’m well on my way to being able to deal with that much better so I can have a happier life.

I also think that some kind of agency should uncover the truth about that prayer thing. I mean, that is really really bad; to tell someone their asthma’s gone and that they will have a kid cuz God answers all their prayers, etc.

And why do all these preachers, or whatever they’re called have to yell? They scream out their messages and speeches. Can’t they speak in a normal voice? After all that shouting, it’s a wonder they even have a voice left.

She was also full of it about sending that literature, but I don’t want it. Cuz if Tom saw it, I’d feel I had to explain how I got it and it’s probably all bullshit. I also saw this woman claiming that those who are defeated in life choose to be. I’m sorry, but I did not ask to be defeated by my parents, the system, the NHA, or people like Scott M. I did not choose for there to be no child in this house at the moment. I mean, come on! If a guy’s walking down the street minding his own business, then gets jumped and beaten, did he choose this? Does a woman choose to be raped?

To back up to what I said some paragraphs ago, well, I think that yes, a doctor could get me pregnant. But do I think that an evil force would leave it alone and let it stay there for 9 months? No.

Still, so what if I’m only kidding myself by being happier? I’ll take as many happy days as I can get after all the days of sadness I went through. I don’t miss always being so emotional and feeling like I ought to just drop dead. There will always be a void in my life. There will always be a missing link in my life. But I’ll be damned if I’m gonna be miserable all the time about it like I was miserable about all kinds of things back east all the time.

WEDNESDAY, JUNE 11, 1997 I was just thinking about how Marla was talking about this mind-over-matter stuff and how if I told myself I wouldn’t get pregnant, then I wouldn’t. Well, then why can’t those who don’t want kids or the hassles and side effects of birth control, just tell themselves they won’t get pregnant and let it be a case of mind over matter for them? Cuz I still think that something up there has an obsession with mainly giving kids to those who don’t want them.

Later…

I just went for a swim and have been working on getting color when my schedule permits it.

My ear was quite itchy, so first I threw some alcohol in there, then some peroxide and when I did that, it roared with bubbles. Then out came a fairly large chunk of wax and as gross as it was, at least I got it cleaned out so I don’t have to worry about an infection. Now the good ear gives me more trouble than the bad and I’m glad the bad one doesn’t produce much wax.

We screwed again and he says he had a light orgasm, but I doubt it. So, my prayers will still go unanswered. Tom says there’s always tomorrow, but I think tomorrow will be too late.

It’s hard, all this praying and trying to have faith. I mean, my sister never had to get close to God or pray to God for a child and neither did most others that I’ve known or do know. A part of me still feels I shouldn’t have to drop down on my knees and beg for something that’s supposed to be natural and a part of life.

TUESDAY, JUNE 10, 1997 Tom’s feeling great now and I’m feeling much better than I have in the last few days. I was really really tight. It’s not that I was wheezing, but I was tight and so short of breath. I took extra hits and he whacked my back and made me coffee before I fell asleep at around 5 PM. I got up at 1 AM.

Tom didn’t have to take his ma to her appointment, so I think that helped him a lot, too.

I just left Andy a message telling him that Tom’s better and that I hope he is, too.

I did use that large stamp journal that matches the smaller one that my folks got me, for a project after all. I just didn’t want to write in that one with its thin pages and it was all crinkled, too, and the cover was somewhat bent. I tore out almost half its pages and then taped in lyrics and edited manuscripts that I printed out. I still have 2½ journals with over 200 pages in them so I shouldn’t need journals till the fall.

Now that I feel better physically, I’m mentally a bit nervous. I’m now in the miscarriage zone till around the 12th and of course, I know what I’m in for, as much as I wish I could believe that things would change and that I would see a change, too. Tom says to try not to get either hopeful or negative about it and just to have a neutral attitude. I’d like to, but that’s easier said than done when you’re talking about something that means so much to you. I mean, I can’t think positive cuz I know I’ll end up losing and falling flat on my ass. Yet I’m trying to get out of thinking negative, which is also really hard when you’re so sure you’ll never succeed. And trying to remain neutral is hard, cuz it’s an important issue to me.

Still, I could bet all my journals and CDs on 1 of the following 3 things happening - he won’t get in there, he will get in there, but won’t cum, or he will get in there, will cum, and I’ll still get my period and my prayers for a child will still go unanswered by God.

I always enjoy and look forward to our sex and time together (well, almost always), but when you know what’s gonna happen and what you’re in for, it does take a lot of the excitement out of it.

Later…

It’s 5:30 and still no dogs. It’s early yet. Give it time. They’ll bark plenty from any second now, till around mid-morning.

I have been praying several times a day since speaking to that woman, but let’s see how well I know my fate. It’s gonna be number two. That’s which one I’m in for. He’ll get in there, but he won’t cum. In my book, until and if I see differently, he has gone back to not cumming. He’s just too worried about what a miscarriage would do to my sanity and he just doesn’t really want this much as I do. He tried, though, and that much I never thought he’d do in the first place. I’m scared shitless of a miscarriage, but unlike him, I don’t want to let my doubts, fears and worries stop me. Well, something up there has stopped me and until and if I can find a way to get it out of my life and take back my life, my body, etc., I certainly won’t be having any miscarriages. If I did have to choose between always missing it, though, and losing it after getting as far as 2-3 months, then yes, I can understand how he feels and I’d want to always miss it. To get that far to lose it, really would drive me insane.

Later…

Yes, I do know my fate well. I was correct with number two. He got in but didn’t cum. We both enjoyed it, though, and he was close. Tuesdays are when he’s the most beat, but when we screw again tomorrow, I feel there’s a slight chance he’ll cum. Well, if he does, I won’t have a miscarriage. Just a period.

Just when I said to myself, I don’t believe it. We got up till 9 AM and they haven’t barked, I heard them. But I’m certainly not curious to know if they bark the usual amount, or what, if any, effect the note may have had on the situation, so I turned the fan on.

There’s a chance they may not have found the note yet. They do daycare and have plenty of their own kids, so there are bound to be little toys like that left scattered across the yard. They may or may not have noticed it and if they did notice it, they may just leave it there and assume that the child that it belongs to, will pick it up themselves.

I know that this note, once it’s discovered, may escalate the barking, cuz people are such opposite-doers, but I couldn’t resist. It was worth it.

So, I did write about the incident on Oswego St. where Mattie accused me of fucking with Hank and then I chased her into her apartment while screaming at her and kicking her door. When she called the cops on me, I turned off the lights in my apartment and avoided opening my door when the cops knocked. I wrote about it while on Elm St. in S Deerfield. It was then in 1991, that I realized what a vague and shitty writer I was and still was, but was just beginning to improve, slowly but surely, so I filled in lost details.

I’m currently proofreading journal 14 and I’ve got 60-something of them left. It seems this will never end!

MONDAY, JUNE 9, 1997 Well, I’ve been here half a decade. It was at this time 5 years ago that Shadow, the cat I used to have, woke me after just 2-3 hours of sleep. Then, Bill left for work, and at around 8:30 that morning, Dad and I took off to see Sheila in Greenfield, then to Boo and Max’s in Longmeadow, then to the airport.

There are no mice currently residing in our garage. I set up the trap in there periodically to see if I can catch any, but I’m pretty sure I’ll catch another one eventually. Yes, Fuzzy has to have definitely gotten out of the house, cuz we’d have seen him by now if he were still here. Either that or smelled him if he had died in here somewhere. I’m sure that during my parents’ visit, is when he made his escape.

The weekend went off without a hitch. The object of my hatred didn’t party hearty, so if today is a special occasion for someone, it isn’t for her. Maybe it was his birthday.

I slept fine from 2 PM till 10 PM and no stereos woke me up. So, if there were any stereos, and I’m sure there were, and if there was any company over there, God had the kindness to keep them from being loud enough to wake me up.

A certain delivery has been made a few hours ago. To my surprise, the dogs didn’t go off when I threw the pen/tube over and I just realized something. Maybe the letters I sent got them to at least shut them up at night, since I don’t hear them on and off throughout the summer nights like I always used to. Well, now we’ll start working on the daytime barking and again, that is better in the summer. But come fall, they won’t shut up from about 7 AM - 7 PM. A half-hour won’t go by without a barking fit. I wish these dogs were like the dog that’s next to us and across the street with that old guy. That one hardly ever barks much at all.

So Marla thinks I can brainwash myself, huh? I had mentioned that that thought had crossed my mind, but I don’t think so. She says hence the saying, mind over matter. And that if I tell myself I won’t get pregnant, then I won’t. But if I tell myself I will get pregnant, even if I don’t believe it now, I will come to believe it in time and will get pregnant, too. My folks and others may have brainwashed me and got me to believe things I didn’t believe through repetition, but I was just a child then. I am not a child now, but a 31-year-old adult, who is not easily persuaded by suggestions. A part of me wants to try to take Marla’s advice, but cuz I’m so damn skeptical of my belief in my ability to brainwash myself and cuz I’m so damn sure that a child’s not in our cards, I haven’t been able to take her advice.

However, I have been praying steadily every day since speaking to that prayer counselor. I think she should be called a quack, but nonetheless, my reasons for doing this are so that I, or anyone else, can’t tell me I didn’t at least try to establish a “relationship” with God and that I didn’t try to obtain faith and belief in him. Don’t get me wrong, though, I do believe in his existence and I do hold the faith that God can do anything. Yes, he could make sure I got pregnant. The question is, will he ever use his power to do the things he can do? Not just with me, by letting me have a child, but with others that are in need of help or change in their lives, like with Larry and Tammy. He can, but will he?

So, what I’m saying is that if I continue to pray for a child, month after month, year after year, only to end up not being blessed with one, then that’d prove that I’m right about either God not caring, but more likely, a case of a devil that I can’t get rid of and that God, for some reason, just won’t override. I still believe the devil’s touch is stronger for some, as God’s touch is stronger for some, but I hope I end up wrong and that things do change, even if I can’t see or believe that now.

Later…

I just played a little bit of that tiles game I love so much. Tom has trouble winning and he asked if I had a strategy and I showed him how I played, but like he’s better than me at some games, this is one I’m really good at.

Tom’s cold has been an easy one to deal with and he was able to go to work at 8:00 last night. He should be home in an hour or so. He thinks what he had was the flu and that was compliments of Andy. Andy got sick the day after he was here and he obviously gave it to Tom. The germ even stayed in here, even with the EC exchanging the air. Thank God it didn’t get me. Isn’t that amazing? And I’m the one who used to be sick all the time back east and who still has asthma and who still smokes.

Tom says we’ll be able to have a “wonderful” sex week. My heart says, Oh how I wish! And that it could result in a kid, too. But my head knows that the devil, as well as any subconscious or conscious fears, doubts or hesitations Tom may possibly have, are just waiting to jump out at me and hinder us from good sex and most definitely from a child. Which is it gonna be - his not getting in there? Or his getting in there and not cumming? Or his getting in there, cumming, and us missing it by a day or so? My guess is that he’s backing off due to what I said - a possible miscarriage to have to deal with/the things that would go with a full pregnancy and a kid. So, he’ll probably not be in the mood, although he’ll say otherwise and instead of saying he’s not in the mood, he’ll just be too soft to go in there. Or he’ll make sure we’re deliberately not angled right so he can’t get in there. Or if he does let himself inside, I wouldn’t be the least bit surprised if he didn’t cum.

Well, whichever it is…being too soft, the off-angle, the screwing with no cumming, I’ll just have to deal with it and accept it, cuz if I question it or suggest anything that’ll help, he’ll just bitch that I’m trying to control him, when in fact, he should bitch the truth which would be, “Hey! Get off my case, cuz if I’d wanted to get in there or to cum, I would’ve done so, but this is how I wanted it.”

Later…

Tom got in at 4:30 and is feeling OK, but is tired. He crashed shortly before 6 AM, but at 8:15, if I haven’t heard from his mom, who has an appointment, I’m to call her to see if she needs a ride. That’ll hopefully not set Tom back, having to get up so soon after going to bed, after being sick and tired, just to drive her to an appointment. Again, what would his mother do if we had a child? And how would we both cope with it? We’d both be as sick and as tired as I was in the NHA.

Anyway, as we all know, everything has its pros and cons and the pro to his not cumming, means that I don’t have to be all bummed at how something up there is making sure we miss it without a doubt (although then I’d have to fear a miscarriage if we did hit it, but hey, it is time to move on and if that’s what I had to move on to - fine) and how God just wouldn’t use his power to make sure we didn’t miss it. See, this is what I mean when I say I do have faith in God and his power. I know he could make sure that we both physically worked as we’re supposed to, then make sure one of his sperm met one of my eggs, whether or not he came, and then make sure it stood there for 9 months. But will he ever? Well, I’m not about to let myself get my hopes up, cuz every time I do, I fall. And the further I get my hopes up, the further I have to fall and the more it hurts.

I wonder if the assholes with the dogs have found their little message yet? Now all I have to do is hope that they don’t come here when Tom’s up, ring the doorbell, then ask him, “Do you know who might’ve left this (as they show it to him) in our yard?”

Of course, I haven’t told him about it, cuz then he’ll be more paranoid than I can get and will be running around thinking that the world’s gonna end cuz of this. Remember, a neighbor and their dogs are saints in his eyes and they can do no wrong, and anything they do is acceptable. He says that it’s best not to complain about anyone in case they did it back or vandalized the house. I see what he means, he has a point, but sometimes you just gotta speak out and put a foot down. As long as I can’t have the dogs shot, and as long as I know that talking to them would produce no results, I’m gonna do whatever else I can to put an end to this shit.

SATURDAY, JUNE 7, 1997 I’m now doing something I used to do all the time and that I haven’t done for a while - writing while sprawled out in bed.

I’d have loved these wire-bound books when I used to do this a lot. And when I was typing up journals.

I hope to get through a peaceful weekend since we’re just one day away from the one-year marker of next door’s longest and wildest party. I haven’t seen any cars there since Tuesday and hopefully, it’ll remain carless over the weekend.

Tom says he’s feeling better by the minute. I hope so, for his sake. He’s been coughing a lot and this is helping him get better. He hasn’t been a jerk, either, and he thanked me for giving him space and for being as helpful as I could be.

We went out earlier at 2:00 and got some cash at an ATM. Then we got some munchies at Circle K.

I called my mom yesterday to wish her a happy birthday. Dad was at the store when I called. They’re doing fine, but that business deal didn’t go through. As most people are, the guy was all talk, but hopefully, they’ll still get other 60’ poles and huge flags to sell.

I’m having mixed emotions about Larry at this time. He has every right to feel as he does about losing his son, but as mom and I discussed, he has another child. Some people will never even have that much. So it really hurts to see him ignore this other child of his, while some of us are denied the dream and the right to have just one child in the first place. Instead of dealing with his emotions over this sad, unfair and tragic loss, he buries himself in his work and shuts Sandy and Jen out as if Larry was number one and Sandy and Jen were number two. And still are.

Later…

I’m in the middle of doing laundry now.

Anyway, at Circle K, one of the things I got was a cute pen with a tube of gum pieces as the body of the pen. Yeah, well, I know exactly what I’m gonna do with this when I’m done with the gum. The tube is clear and since I know a chat with the dog owners won’t do no good, perhaps it’s time for a little harassment campaign. I’ll type up: SHUT THESE DOGS UP OR PAY THE CONSEQUENCES. Then I’ll cut it to fit into the tube with the words visible. Then in the middle of the night, I’ll hurl it over their wall and into their backyard.

I finished that Dean Koontz book and now I’m reading the last book Ma lent me. It’s OK so far, but it’s time to hit the library again.

Later…

Tom’s taking a nap now, then he says he’ll watch some horse racing, then possibly do the grocery shopping if he feels up to it. I told him I felt bad I couldn’t drive the car and do the shopping myself, but he assured me the fresh air and sunshine would do him good.

FRIDAY, JUNE 6, 1997 Oh great! Just great. Tom’s got a cold. Perfect timing, too. Now is someone gonna tell me that nothing up there made him sick to punish me for calling that prayer counselor and for praying, too, and for wanting a normal, mutual, full-time sex life and a child? Forget about us missing it by a day or two. He’s not gonna cum at all for sure. We’re definitely back to the good old days when he gets hard and I get off.

Also, now he has to feel miserable on account of me and I have to deal with the moodiness that goes with his colds. He’s a little jerk when he’s sick, like most of us are. Let me guess - if I prayed now for him to be better real fast and for us to have a kid, we’d not only not get the kid, as we always don’t, but he’d be sick for a week or two for sure, and he’d punish me further by having something else go wrong with one of us or both of us, right?

I know in my heart, my gut, my logic, and every core of my body, that we’ll never have a child, but can’t life go on for the better, anyway? Does this mean we still can’t have a normal and full-time sex life? Does this mean we still have to be set back in life? That I always have to feel sad over never having a kid? Can we ever move up in life to a better home, more money, and other things? Or must we always remain as we are all cuz I wanted this kid I can’t have?

Whether it’s God or the devil, there’s no fighting this thing. There’s no getting it off my back and out of my life. My body belongs to it and so much more. And it will always be this way. It does not want us to have a normal full-time sex life. It does not want us to have a child. It will always win. It will always have control over us.

Of course, I still have other theories. What if there is no God? What if the good in life comes from just dumb luck or people themselves? What if there’s only a devil? A devil whose reigns are stronger on some people than others? What if God is only an imaginary thing that people have made up to use as a coping mechanism or a way to find hope, faith, and happiness?

Another thing about Tom is, well, he says he’s not the payback kind of guy, but again, I wonder. I had bitched at him for continuing to neglect to fix the leaky kitchen faucet, which he claimed to have no problem with. He showed me I wasn’t turning it off right and I apologized to him for blaming him when it was me that wasn’t turning it off tight enough. So as I suspected, he’s gone back to letting the bathroom faucet drip. See, when I see so many of the things I suspect end up happening, it makes it harder for me to not believe in my belief that we won’t have a child, his wanting a child too, and his feeling I’d be a suitable mother.

Later…

What is it with these sky pigs? If they’re out there trying to pursue someone in some get-away car chase, then they’re obviously doing a horrible job of it and need to go back into training, cuz they’ve been roaring around in the sky for eons now.

There are a couple of things I didn’t mention that are probably just a coincidence, but I did wake up unusually clear-lunged. Also, she said that God knows all the things that bother me and that I wish for and we all know that one of them is that I wish those dogs would shut up. They did seem quieter today, but I had heard them for a few minutes at midnight, so I don’t know if this means anything in particular.

She also told me that the closer you are to God and the more you have faith, the more your prayers will be answered. Well, Andy definitely has more faith than I do. Could that be why some of his prayers get answered? She also said that if you pray for something that isn’t willed by God, you’re not gonna get it. Does God really disapprove of gays then? And is that why Andy’s prayers for Mr. Right haven’t been answered? And again, if he’s not too thrilled with gays, then why do they exist? Are they the devil’s doing or what?

Lastly, if God wants and encourages and promotes reproduction, then wouldn’t he all the more want to help make sure that we have sex at the right time and that whether or not he cums, an egg and a sperm hook up? If he’s really so pro-life, then why wouldn’t he want to help us? He’d be doing for him as well as for us and it wouldn’t be one-sided. He wouldn’t be just giving, but receiving, too. She also told me something I’ve heard before and that’s that God wants people to feel his love and he wants people to believe in him. Well if this is so, then you’d think once again, that all the more he’d want to bless us with a child, cuz then I would believe in him and then I could feel loved by him.

THURSDAY, JUNE 5, 1997 OK, this is what I’ve been up to and I can’t say that most of it is very good at all.

First, though, we got a nice card and anniversary check from his ma for $25.

Also, Andy was over last night so he could type a little. It was a very short visit, cuz he was very tired, but he managed to slowly but surely type almost a whole page of stuff. Actually, not quite as slowly as I thought he would. He typed some stuff I dictated to him and also stuff he thought of on his own.

Later, we jumped onto AOL to play with some guy’s head from CA, but he was a bore.

He brought over a pair of nice colorful, floral shorts that he no longer wants, but they’re too big for me, so maybe Tom will wear them, though I doubt it.

I gave him and Laura some stuff, too. Some Halloween decorations, a couple of hair accessories, a sweater and some scented soap bars.

Now, what I’m about to write about is kind of embarrassing and I haven’t even told Tom or Andy about it and probably never will. Early Wednesday morning at about 7:30, I made a call and got bullshitted like hell by a major quack, but I kind of asked for it by calling in the first place.

I was flipping through channels as I was winding down and as usual, not much was on except for baby talk. On one show, there was a panel of women who’d had miscarriages and one was saying that she wanted to have 3 or 4, but if she could just have one child, just one child, she’d be so blessed. She said this through teary eyes and boy, did my heart go out to this poor woman. At least she stands a better chance than I do, cuz she could at least get pregnant. Something I can’t even do in the first place. I don’t know, though, cuz she seemed pretty hard-pressed, and almost always, the harder-pressed you are for a kid, then good luck!

Then I flipped channels again and landed on some religious show and someone wrote in saying they had had hepatitis but called and prayed with a prayer counselor and now it’s gone. Also, a woman pregnant with twins was being profiled. According to her, the doctors told her the babies would be stillborn, but through prayer, they came out OK. She was saying that she wasn’t perfect and that you name it, she’s done it. But to know that even after all that, God still loves her, was just a wonderful feeling.

Naturally, my first thoughts were, Why not me? What’s wrong with my dream/prayers to have a child? Doesn’t God love me too, even though I’m not perfect either? Or has the devil got such a hold on me, my life and body that not even God can break through it?

So I called their prayer line number and I swear, if most blacks aren’t into crime, they’re God/religious fanatics. Still, I wanted to speak my mind to a stranger who was an outsider, which helps to do every once in a great while. And I was curious to hear what response I’d get. Some of what the woman said that I spoke to didn’t surprise me, but then there were things she said that I totally did not expect and that seemed very off the wall. I mean big-time bizarre and big-time BS, as much as I wish I could believe some of the things she said and tried to open my mind to these ideas.

My biggest question is how can they do this all the time and on national TV? I can see these “get rich quick” shows that are full of quacks and BS, but this? What if some gullible sucker like Fran calls with a serious illness, then gets told he’s cured when he really isn’t, then he stops his treatment or medication or whatever, and dies?

Anyway, I spoke to this black lady and I told her that I didn’t want to believe that God was bad and that he hated me, and that he’d always deny us a child, but couldn’t help my beliefs after all I’ve gone through and have seen others go through. Also, I didn’t know if God was both good and bad, or if he was all good and it was the devil that was doing the bad. She told me there was a devil as well as a God, but God does only good. But if God can do anything and if he’s all-good, why can’t he override the devil? Is it that he can’t beat the devil or simply won’t?

She first asked me if we’d been to a doctor and I told her no, cuz my husband can’t get over the edge too much.

She said that God does love me and that he is going to answer my prayer, cuz I want something that’s willed by God and something he wants people to do - reproduce. Naturally, I was like, well, when is this gonna happen then? She said soon. Probably sooner than I thought.

Then she went on to tell me there is a heaven and a hell and that you either go to one place or the other and what determines that is how much you believe in God and have a relationship with him and live for him. She said it’s not about religion. It’s about faith. Now that’s confusing, cuz if God is so good and so loving, then why would he throw people in hell just for not believing in him?

She said she gets all her prayers answered cuz of how close she is to God and that the reason he hasn’t answered my prayers is cuz I don’t believe in him.

But God’s supposed to love us all equally, I thought. If she’s right about this, then God does play favoritism.

She said that while I should get closer to him so I can have a happier life and have more prayers answered, he will answer her prayer for me and so I will have a child.

She also said that if you’ve done something wrong, all you have to do is repent and pray for forgiveness and you’re automatically forgiven. Oh really? Then why does the bible say that Jews especially, must suffer for the sins of their forefathers? And why do I still feel cursed and like he doesn’t want to hear me or grant us our wish? She said that that’s where the curse comes in. She said she thinks that the reason we’ve been childless up to now is cuz of something physical and a generational curse and not cuz of God, but now that she’s prayed, the curse has been lifted off of us and we’ll have that baby. Yeah right!

Oh, I definitely believe in curses, though, as I told her and I think my family’s been cursed for many generations.

The story gets even crazier. She prayed for my asthma and then said, “Your asthma’s gone.” I couldn’t believe she had the nerve to say this! I mean, come on!

Then she goes on to tell me that if I get confused, I should read the words of God and get a bible cuz that’ll give me answers. But again, how can anyone really know that God exists and that these are his words? I can write a book and say that God spoke through me and that these are his words. Anyone can. For all we really know, there may very well not be a God, a devil, heaven or hell and when we die, we just die.

Deep down, though, I do believe in something good up there, as well as something bad up there, and unlike Tom believes, I think there is a reason for everything, whether it’s fair or not, and we all have a plan, even if some have greater things planned for them than others, and I don’t think death is the end-all. I don’t really believe in reincarnation, or heaven and hell, but I think our spirits always live on and watch over the world.

She said that when I get my child and other things I dream of, it’ll increase my faith in God. Indeed it certainly would if I could have a child to full term, born naturally and in good health, and yes, I wish I could believe in a good God or something up there that really really loved me, was on my side, etc, and I told her that I do have some blessings, things could be much worse, I could even be dead and should be dead, but it’s hard. It’s really hard to believe, to have faith, etc.

All I know is that be it God or a devil, something up there does not want me to have a baby and I’m powerless to fight it.

She said the devil tries to stop her from having a good day too, but that she just prays to God and the devil withdraws. And life goes on happily for her and she gets what she wants. Why can’t it be that simple for me then? Why can’t it be that simple for everyone?

We were on the phone for about an hour and at the very end, she prayed for both the asthma and the child, saying that it wasn’t really her, but the authority God’s given her to have other’s prayers granted due to her utter faith in him.

She told me to put my hand on my chest and then told God to renew my lungs, make them have brand new cells, etc. Well, my lungs are anything but new.

Then she told God to make my female parts as they were intended to work and to let us have a naturally born, healthy child.

I had told her my fear of a miscarriage and she said not to worry about that cuz she prayed against that. Then why did she tell me to pray every day against a miscarriage when I’m supposedly pregnant if she took care of that?

Then she said that I need not worry and not even think about a kid cuz it’s a done deal.

So I’m supposed to suddenly have faith and change my belief system, which would be like trying to get myself to believe that it’d be perfectly OK to go out and shoot 20 people if you have a bad day? I’m supposed to believe that he loves me? That the devil has no reigns on me anymore? That he will give us a child? That my asthma’s gone? I’m sorry, but I just can’t swallow any of this. I wish I could, but I could only do so if I saw some serious change and results - like a naturally born child that was carried to full term. Right now, though, I have no faith or hope. As much as I wish I could say I did and that we’ll get our kid, I just can’t.

The only thing I am gonna do, that may get me in trouble, and that I swore I’d give up on, is try praying on my own for a child more often.

She also said that God has already chosen the egg that’ll be for this child we’re supposed to have and he’s chosen the sperm, too. Now, how can he choose the sperm for this when a guy’s body keeps making new sperm all the time? If he got me pregnant a week from now, then it’d be by a sperm that’s not even in his body yet.

Later…

Gotta get Tom up in 15 minutes.

Meanwhile, another thing that the lady said was that I was predestined to call. That God knew and planned for me to call, even though the evil side would try to stop me so that I could be helped to believe and to get our dream and to feel his love. The whole thing just either doesn’t make sense or seems too far-fetched for me. All but the belief that there are both good and evil forces and plans for us all. That much I can believe in.

It’s so hard for me to believe that our sex life will ever change or progress. There’s just always some problem with it and instead of progressing, we seem to be getting set back with it. No matter how much he is or isn’t reluctant, something is determined to hold us back, keep us from that child, and it is succeeding. The weird and surprising thing about it is that he truly seems bummed out about it, unlike he did up till fairly recently. Why, though? Why now? Is this really how he feels? Or is he just trying to make me feel guilty and/or depressed?

It’s awfully hard to do as this woman told me to do which was, don’t think about it, don’t try to figure it out, don’t analyze it, don’t worry about it.

WEDNESDAY, JUNE 4, 1997 Tom just took a Rolaids before heading to work and I asked if I upset his belly (due to what we just discussed) and he said yes. I don’t know if this is true, or if he just wanted to make me feel guilty so I’d keep my mouth shut in the future, but when am I gonna finally learn to keep my mouth shut?! The man simply doesn’t want a kid, so when I’m sad, suspicious, worried or doubtful, why can’t I just keep it to myself? He can’t fully understand me when I talk to him and he ends up taking it wrong and too personally and we end up arguing. I have a goddamn journal. That’s where I should be writing and letting out all my thoughts, feelings, beliefs, worries, doubts, suspicions, opinions and the things that make me laugh, cry, or angry.

Once again, he swears he’s been perfectly honest with me, I read him all wrong, draw the craziest conclusions, my fears, doubts, worries and beliefs are off the wall, and I’m fertile and will inevitably end up pregnant, but I know he’s shitting me. So far, he hasn’t been right about this stuff and therefore, I can only feel and believe as I do and I cannot help it.

An example of how he takes me all wrong is how he says that the reason he hasn’t cum lately isn’t cuz he fears I’d be a bad mom, but rather that I’ve gone back to being obsessed with controlling him. In truth, I’ve been anxious to help us. And he says that I’m not good at reading people? Anyway, I’m not great in bed, but I know he’s using me as an excuse for his own decision to stop cumming.

When I asked him if he worried about telling me if he thought I’d be a bad mom and would get hurt and mad at him for it, he said mad is mad. And I’ve been hurt and mad before, so whether or not I’m mad a little or a lot at him, he said that wouldn’t stop him from telling me so if this were so.

Well, I just had the longest stretch of happy days before this, so now I’m gonna try to go even longer, stop fighting for what can’t be, and just try to relax. And shut up. My expressing myself doesn’t change things; it hurts things and causes fights.

Later…

Blackie Boy is here now. At least I only knew so by the car door shutting and not by his music. On a Tuesday night, though? It seems his visits are getting more frequent and again, I hope to hell he doesn’t move back in full-time. These last 7 or so months that I haven’t had to worry or deal with their music and parties have just been great. Please, God, don’t compensate me now!

TUESDAY, JUNE 3, 1997 I figured it out for sure! What took me so long to realize this? Yes, Tom’s not cumming for the 2½ years he didn’t was a combination of the positioning, reluctance to have a kid, etc. However, the reason why he cums so little (now that we can do his favorite position) and has stopped cumming altogether, isn’t just cuz he’s hesitant on the kid and doesn’t want it as much. It’s cuz he doesn’t think I’d be a good mother. I know this has got to be it. I’ve thought of this before, but this has got to be it way more than it’s a case of his not really wanting a kid all that much. Of course, he’s not gonna tell his wife how he truly feels, but this is it. This is really it for sure. It’s not so much about his not wanting a kid as much, or him instilling patience in me, or him having to see me go through and him have to deal with a miscarriage, or things that go with being pregnant or having a kid, or him teasing me and making me wait on him. That’s part of it, but the main reason, I now fully believe, is me. It’s about his not believing I’d be a good mother. Well, I don’t know if I can argue with him on that one, but still, he should’ve told me this. Just like he should’ve told me other things pertaining to sex, besides just doing it. There is some good in this sudden, obvious observation, though, and that is that if I’m right (and I don’t see how I couldn’t be right at this point), then it sure is gonna help curb my desire for a child, cuz I don’t want to be having a child with someone who doubts me. For me to doubt myself is one thing, but for my own mate to doubt me is another thing. If he doesn’t think I’d be a good mother, then we shouldn’t be having a kid and God is doing the right thing.

Once again, I wonder if the best thing I can do, even if it’s the only thing I can do, would be to count the blessings I do have, the freedom I do have, avoid sex during mid-cycle to help God help us miss it, even though he doesn’t need the help, and be thankful we’ll never need to deal with birth control and its problems, hassles and side effects.

Still, I really think this is it - he doesn’t have faith in my ability to handle a child, but I’m sure he doesn’t have the heart to tell me, figuring it’d hurt my feelings and even make me bitter and angry at him. But for him to go from cumming about every two weeks to not cumming for nearly two months - there is a reason. If he’s supposed to be so horny as much as he says, and if I’m supposed to be that good in bed - there is a reason. And that reason isn’t just him being hesitant about a kid - it’s me.

Anyway, I called Becky to wish her a happy birthday, then I spoke to Tammy and boy let me tell you - God does not like that family. There really is a very obvious, undeniable family curse. Now, I don’t know how much of this is hype, but Becky’s rheumatoid arthritis is still bad and she needs surgery on her leg or knee on the 11th.

Meanwhile, Tammy’s thyroid disease is turning fatal, so the hypochondriac claims. I guess they’ve tried her on different medications over the last year to no avail. She says her thyroid is so swollen it’s affected her voice and now it’s affecting her esophagus. She’s gained 17 pounds and is over 200 pounds.

She’ll live.

I just created yet another cool setup with Gizzy’s tubes and all that, but it’d be nice if I had the mouse to go with it. Yes, working with those Sam tubes was a real disaster and he escaped.

Anyway, I made a simple, yet nice design that’ll be way easier for when we bomb. Now all I have to do is coax him into the little tubes on one side of Mary’s cage, then detach the tubes on the other side and put a cover on it. I can no longer stand those unstable, very hard-to-work-with Sam tubes.

Later…

Yippee yaaaaaaaaah!!!!! Just caught Gizzy. Now that’s a record time between escape and capture!

Anyway, I put the Sam tubes in a ring shape and they’re resting down inside the aquarium, standing upright and leaning against the left side of the cage. Then right next to that, are all but one T and one straight tube, leading all the way up to the left side of Mary’s cage, which sits on a wooden shelf that’s always been there. On the right side of Mary’s cage, is a T with a straight tube attached to it and it’d be perfect to add a hideaway up there when I can.

MONDAY, JUNE 2, 1997 I just left Andy a message to let me know if he can come over to learn to type over the next couple of nights. He wants to try getting a job with the phone co.

There’s something else that’s been nagging at the back of my mind as a suspicion or a guess or a feeling or whatever you want to call it, but now I think I’ve figured it out. Tom’s gone back to not cumming. He hasn’t cum since 4/18, so he’s gotten rather obvious on this. I think the reason why he’s chosen this is cuz of my mental state when we come so close, just to end up missing it. Like I always said, I don’t think he wants the kid as bad as I do and I think it’s worth it to him to sacrifice cumming to make my mental state easier for him to deal with, rather than for him to cum either the same amount or more often and put forth more effort on the kid. Which would really be the miscarriage, of course. Well, it’s OK. I’m not gung-ho on working for a miscarriage and he knows how I feel about that and I think deep down he’d rather avoid that, too.

Later…

We just went for a swim and it was amazingly peaceful out. At this time of year, the damn dogs go off before and after the hottest parts of the day. When it’s really hot, they’re no doubt too busy panting in the heat to bark, all the while wondering why their owners don’t give a shit about them.

SUNDAY, JUNE 1, 1997 The cactuses we planted are really starting to grow now. I’m amazed at how many are coming up. They don’t look like cactuses, though. They look like little bean sprouts that people often top their salads with. We’re gonna play it by ear as far as when to plant them outside since some have more of a head start than others.

Later…

Next door left before I woke up and hasn’t returned.

Also, Andy met with that guy Stan and said he was a fat Indian and neither of them had any attraction towards each other.

Later…

I just went and checked my email and Marla just made my night, even though she shouldn’t have, cuz I know I’m not gonna have a child. She said, “I just know. I feel it.”

Well, I wish she could end up right, along with Tom and Andy, but nope. My fate’s sealed as far as that goes, otherwise it would’ve happened by now. I just can’t think of any real reason why it just “hasn’t been the right time yet.” If it hasn’t been the right time by now, then there is no right time.

[thearchivistsjournal]

Day 359,

I don’t think I’ve seen Maiko pace like that before.  

She showed up at the library some time after school was out for the day.  I think she might have intentionally waited for the kids to leave.  Cass had also just left to go help Norman with some errand or another, so I was alone down in the archive compiling dates of birth and death when Maiko came down the stairs.

Lin was back at attending to Ka’eo today but had forbidden her from returning to work until she had at least a few more days of rest and recovery and had even talked Ka’ena into agreeing.  I imagine that last part wasn’t too hard given how guilty Ka’ena seemed to feel over the whole ordeal.  But this left Maiko desperately looking for something to do all day.  Her room in the lighthouse quickly felt cramped (even though the bed wound up nicer than expected now that the mattress was reupholstered).  The thought of walking around and exploring the Village more had some appeal, but as nice and seemingly accepting of her as everyone acts, they still all stare which makes her tense.  So she decided to come here since she knew Lin likes to read in the quiet of the archive for hours on end to relax and she thought she might try it for herself.

She was certainly talking more than her usual, like she does when stressed.

So, I did the obvious thing and gave her a brief rundown of the archive’s organization scheme and helped her find a couple of books to start with.  While I was going through that process I vocalized the observation that there have been plenty of days that we spent back home where she seemed content enough to lounge around the house not doing much.

She said that���s part of why she’s bothered so much.  That she feels like she should be able to relax but for some reason can’t.

I speculated that perhaps it’s the difference between choosing to do nothing and being made to do nothing.

A silence as we continued down the row of shelves.

She said it’s being in the Village.  All these streets and houses and people.  It feels like she should be doing something in a way she never felt before.  Like someone’s constantly quietly telling her to be a part of things and contribute.  It’s quieter up in the lighthouse or down in the archive, but it’s still there.

Funny, I’d always found Village life to be incredibly laid back.  But maybe that’s just in comparison to lingering impressions of what my old world was like.  True, it always feels like there’s something else to do, especially in the rainy season with children to teach almost every day, but it never feels overwhelming and it’s mostly things I put on myself.  But by comparison to the life she’d been living, I think I can see what she means.

My actual in-the-moment response to what she said was cocking my head and going “Huh, yeah…”

I think she got it.

Once she had a few books picked out to try reading I left her to where she’d sat herself down on the floor, back against a bookshelf, and returned to my desk and pet project.  

And then the pacing started.

I didn’t fully register it at first.  Then I figured she was just getting up to swap out a book.  And it probably started that way.  Then she went by my peripheral vision again.  And then again, on a shorter interval this time.  Eventually I looked up from my work and watched her go over to a shelf, pick out a book, sit down on the floor, read a few pages, stand up, put it back, and repeat the process with another shelf, seemingly at random.  Eventually she stopped bothering to sit down.

This obviously wasn’t working.

Leaning over the back of my chair, I pointed out that she could always just go outside for a while.  Outside the Village, not just the library.  It’s not like anyone’s keeping her here or that she has to stay.

Maiko stopped mid-pace and looked up at me, her cheeks shifting to a subtly different shade of red.  

She agreed that, yes, she could do that, thanked me and started walking toward the stairs.

I suppressed a smirk and asked if she wanted me to come with.

A pause at the foot of the stairs to weigh company versus solitude.

An uptick of a mouth’s corner.  Another word of thanks.  The choice of solitude.

I nodded, waved goodbye, and then thought to call up the stairs for her to not push herself too hard out there lest I never hear the end of it from Lin.

A few hours later I’d had my fill of reading about life and death in the dryest possible manner and thought to check the bracelet.  Looks like Lin and Maiko got back together for the evening.  Good for them.

*******

On a whim as I was getting ready for bed, I pulled that old yellowed notebook that was in the alcove bedroom when Lin first showed me the place.  The one uncannily noting small, personally significant events in people’s lives.  Looking up Ka’eo, I found entries for most of what he told us yesterday, including “saw a fiery nature sprite.”  He said he never told anyone about that (although I’m ninety-nine percent sure he told Maiko).  Looking further, there was “passed forge onto daughter.”

I’ve been sitting on a self-writing artifact that gathers distressingly personal information on everyone in the Village, haven’t I?

I found myself torn between finding it incredibly fascinating and potentially useful and wanting to stick it in a heavy box and drop it down the spring.

As is the curse of outsiders, curiosity got the better of me, at least initially.  I tried looking up Maiko’s mother but found nothing.  The same for the old archivist, Devi, Priscilla, Pat, and Theo.  The same for myself.  It seems outsiders (and whatever Pat and Theo are) are excluded from this thing.  That brought commingled relief and disappointment.

I considered looking for Maiko to see if she counted, but too much feared that I would accidently read the contents of whatever entry I might find.  I have my curiosity, yes, but even I have lines I refuse to let myself cross.  Alas, the dead - the one group whom I might not feel such compunctions about - go unaccounted for as well.  So, actually it’s just Pat, Theo, and whomever is currently reading that are excluded among the living?  Not enough data points to say.

I wonder, is whatever method Theo uses to track people related to this?  Could Theo literally be using this?  No, that’s absurd and doesn’t match to observed actions on several points.  Still, the image of Theo violating this private sanctum is going to keep me up all night.

<==Previous          Next==>

[ay0nha]

hi! your head cannons are literally the best like THE BEST

could you maybe do a smut one for 98/99 damon? that was an era babe

thank youuuu <333

Oh, yes. Look at this babe. Sorry in advance... not my best work it’s short/all over the place. Regardless, enjoy :)

I think I've said it before, but my guy needs to be knocked down a few notches. He thinks he knows it all and has seen it all, but honey let me tell you he hasn’t even scratched the surfaced until he’s met you. 

I feel like scenario wise if you’d met out and about or I guess it doesn’t really matter the first few sexual experience you two would share would be purely sexual and just straight Carnal Desire

The type where it’s to forget about the stresses of whatever came before whether it was someone else, work, or just general life and let me tell YA all is forgotten in the hours (yes I said hours) spent together

That’s why it was easy for Damon to catch feelings first (and you can’t convince me otherwise)

The minute he did, he told you and you’d offer a shrug, one that said there’s no shock with it (like yes, I know I’m a f*cking catch)

Which, unfortunately, led to a break. It was most definitely not mutual, but let’s just say for you it was sort of like a defensive mechanism because it all became fast quick (ok, need to remind myself this isn’t a fic this is sm*t)

Fast forward the angst and the feelings you realize absence does in fact make the heart grow fonder and from there on out the two of you are like velcro

So that first time he goes down on you when you’re officially a couple, where your eyes are rolling back it solidified that he wouldn’t be going anywhere anytime soon

Puppy Love. Just sweet and loving and everything you’ve always wanted despite how hectic and chaotic damon can be/is

CHEEKIEST man alive...

...picture this his voice is intentionally deep and soft whispering silly things to you all night and just being physically incapable of taking his eyes off of you and keep his hands to himself...He’d pinch you here and there, brush his hands where he should be while out in public

....which naturally turns into a no touching rule (whether it was his idea or yours...which naturally follows into the bedroom once you’ve made it home....everything is just real breathy and hot that takes every ounce of will Damon has to keep himself together

once of one of you breaks (literally always Damon) it’s the two of you melding together

Baby fever? Baby fever. Breeding kink? Breeding kink. (WE all know this man had wanted a kid from day one)...he loves to fill you right up to the brim, watch as you spill over, and try and push every last drop back in while you’re still sensitive

There would for SURE be pap photos of a dirty make out (in Jamaica)...think of timothee chalamet and lily rose depp style, but better

as a joke it’s not framed somewhere in your shared apartment

Another take I have is that Damon would be into toys (because why the hell not), but specifically for you

Damon lived for your big O...anything to help with that was worth it and quickly became his favorite thing

At first, it started out as experimentation, making sure he figured out the ins and outs of your pleasure knowing that it was a priority

But it didn’t take long from him to use it to his advantage and lead to c*m denial...something you never realized you loved as much as you did, sure it was frustrating in the moment but the moment you could let go...you never knew it could ever feel that way

Moving on lol...I’ve said it before but oral fixation which automatically equals your body being marked up.

It was never a territorial thing from Damon, it was more of  he couldn’t get enough of you and a nibble here and there or a hickey here or there would help satisfy his hunger

SHOWER SEX. Change my mf mind. I’ll set the scene for you all. It’s a long, long day and it’s not an uncommon thing for you two to indulge in any sort of touching under hot water

Usually it was an intimate thing, but more of a hugging and squeezing and holding sweet stuff really

But on the extra excruciating days I can see the best stress reliever of all which a steamy hand job...one with no rush just put pleasure and enjoyment in the smallest of movements, the kind that would cause Damon’s breathing to deepen and his heart beat a little harder

(I feel like this man is absolutely unkempt down there and lowkey the thought makes me drool...oop)

Might be a controversial take (I’m basing this off that one interview from forever ago that could totally be wrong) but I don’t think Damon had the highest sex drive so I could see more of his sexual acts being more like a physical touch style (ie cockwarming, intimate touches, cockwarming again, and just some more cockwarming)

I also feel like he’d be used to being a soft dom and then there might be a nice shift in dynamic where he loves exploring his sub side

Another picture this moment, but riding him with a hand around his neck...your grip getting a little tighter with each moan he let out...

...(also imagine turning c*m denial around on him...like you’re giving the blow job of your life and just pop off right before just to change positions and take it much slower than he wanted/needed it to be...you’ve got him quaking)

Quickies are an obvious. The bent over something, clothes pushed tot he side and hands over mouths to cover the moans the two of you always successfully elicited from each other

Aftercare king. He would stay next to you as long as you needed (usually perfectly timed for a second round)

Ok, era wise this is also his transition into Gorillaz time and I just feel like this was peak Damon (ok who am I kidding any era Damon is peak Damon, but you get me for the sake of this)

Meaning between the new travel, the new music, the new style, etc it’s just been the absolute BEST to be by his side throughout

However, this does me new things to try...

Beach sex? Done. Mile high club? Of course. Mirror sex in the hotel (yes I’m obsessed with this concept)? Duh. On a boat? Favorite place to do it.

No matter where you are, he’s there in a heartbeat.

[strangerays]

Nothing in Particular Update #2

It’s the Nothing and Particular and Everything update part two: the electric booglaloo. This one is long, so strap in.

It’s been a while since I wrote an update for this story. To be honest, this one gave me a lot of stress, but here I am! Writing this story feels like it is going very slow. I keep telling myself I’ve made a lot of progress (which is true, I have) but for some reason it doesn’t feel like I have? This is likely just my own insecurity. To be frank, I can’t believe I’m still writing this story. If you had told me in February that I’d still be writing this when the weather got warm, I would have laughed.

I am SO excited that I will finally be able to focus on writing now that I’m out of school. I’m afraid to speak the rough deadline that I’ve given myself for this story (the end of August-early September) but now that I’ve spoken it into existence, I hope I can finish! (I hope I can stop watching dumb videogame playthroughs and listening to The Magnus Archives and get something done)

Here is a link to the story introduction and previous update!

TAGLIST (ask to be +/-); @wannabeauthorzofija @a-completely-normal-writer @baguettethebooklover​ @corkytheguar @writeherewaiting

STORY CHANGES/THOUGHTS/IDEAS: 

Here is a big one: I’ve been trying to write this story for myself. I started writing Ray’s story from a place that was personal to me, but I feel like, as that part of myself has begun to heal, I’ve started to think about what a reader would want out of the story. I’m realizing that this is my story so it has to be what I want. Drafts are drafts for a reason, so I’m going to try to get better at letting myself explore what is fun to me.

I always thought I was a discovery writer (I still sort of think I am) but as I’ve finished small sections of the story, I am finding that it’s very helpful to do a rough outline of scenes in upcoming chapters. (I also recommend turning to this if something doesn’t work and you need to retrace your steps!) Just helps me feel more organized!

Jude’s character has got to be one of the most difficult personalities I’ve ever written. Putting her beside Ray just makes it harder. Where Ray is secretive and keeps to herself, Jude is ready to unpack her entire life’s story to anyone. I find that I really have to slow down when writing their interactions. I know this is going to be nowhere near perfect in the first draft, but I think it is a main contributor to my slow writing.

I really like this little narrative I’ve created in the background of the main plot with Ray and Lonan. I love writing these scenes because it’s a way for me to use Lonan when he’s not actively with Ray and to show why Ray is predetermined about things at certain points. Also I love their friendship so much <3

CONGRATULATIONS TO ME on starting to read again because I forgot how much of a help reading other people’s stories can be when you’re struggling with your own oml

I now have a set timeline for the story! Takes place ~4-5 months.

I did that thing where you write a letter from the characters’ perspectives and that was kind of fun

Also just for fun I thought I’d add in that I spent an hour and a half last week filling up a page in my sketchbook with diagrams of the plot. It feels good to be a mad scientist

EXCERPTS UNDER THE CUT!

*At this point, I’m only sharing writing that I am really proud of in order not to spoil the story! This is because I am unsure whether I want to publish this story someday. With that said, that does NOT give you permission to steal my ideas!

CHAPTER: NIGHT CRIES

#1

In the last week of summer, I did everything I could to avoid post-vacation blues. I rode my bike along the gravel roads with no destination, wore my dark sunglasses to people-watch, and fed salami to the minnows that floated on the cusps of boulders. Usually, I sat still for so long that my elbows turned a deep shade of red and the blood in my toes buzzed.

New pockets seemed to open up in Point Blink every day. And with them, came new people. Most of them were older – a middle aged woman who caked her lipstick on, an uncle estranged from his brother, a couple who had miscarried. I hadn’t forgotten about the kids at Mothouse. It was impossible not to think about them. It wasn’t just that I’d never seen them before.

#2

The girl’s limp cigarette bled a trail of smoke that seeped into my Vans. My shirt folded like skin over my bed post. Haunted the room – foiled my mauve sheets and teased my locks. Swept the curtains apart and heated the oak floor. Beams of moonlight leapt to my bookcases; highlighted the posters from various podcasts and bands that I listened to. Wind whistled when I was too still. She forced me to look outside, onto the dark cul-de-sac lit by the reflections of forming rain puddles. No matter whether I sat at my desk or burrowed under my sheets, I felt out of place. She made my bedroom louder. She made my bedroom quieter.

I decided it would probably be best if I never saw her again.

To be honest, I don’t remember much about writing this chapter because it was over a month ago (sorry) but I’m still quite happy with the prose! This comes in after Ray sees Jude for the first time at Mothouse. Based on a first impression, decides that she might want be friends with Jude.

CHAPTER: SORRY

#1 

If you spend any long amount of time with someone, you’ll become a thief to their behaviors. If I stared long enough, trees began to replace all of the people we’d ever seen. Oaks had roots that serpentined the ground like children splashing in the bay, pines with needles like spindly old hands, maples with hollows like watchful eyes – all things Lonan had taught me to observe.

CHAPTER: GHOSTS

Then there was the sea – violent and knowing as it romped within bays and alcoves. She had eaten me many times before, both my father and Lonan too. Gulped them as if they were shining plastic wrappings left behind after a meal. I spited her for inviting me once again. I reached up again to grapple with the next rung. It twisted and offered a low whistle.

In these two chapters, Ray is on a photography trip with her class. This is the first time she’s been on this annual trip without Lonan. She left that morning with a goal of being independent and learning to get on with one of the only people she has felt close to. I realize now that the Ghost excerpt sort of sounds like her dad and Lonan have drowned?? Which was not my intention??

CHAPTER: A DIVINE INTERVENTION

#1

“Do you believe in ghosts?” A raspy voice teased from behind me. Cigarette smoke tickled the words, like they were stuck together with jelly inside of her. The question wasn’t particularly calming, but it strengthened my grip on reality. As if the foiled leaves, bark, and dandelions had sprung from the ground and begun to float, they came crashing back down.

I was made of stone.

“I’m not a ghost,” Jude said. “If I was, a ladder would be a pretty counteractive way to outrun me. I could just float up there and haunt you.”

“Maybe you’re a ghost,” she asked, her voice distant.

I shifted my grasp up and down the sides of the ladder. “What?”

“Don’t you believe in ghosts?”

I was reading back some of Ray and Jude’s conversation and there are so many snippets of dialogue that make me laugh because I totally forgot I wrote them... but UGhhH I don’t know if I want to share them because I don’t know whether or not I want to try and publish the story someday. Speaking of that, it’s sort of because it’s so personal to me? I don’t know (this is for future me to pursue) Honestly though, reading these back has made me really happy :)

#2

I wanted to shake her by the shoulders. She acted as though Point Blink could breathe – as though corpses in the cemetery might pull the grass away like dead skin, neighbors would draw blades, and blood-salt would stain her clothes rather than that from the sea. “Trust me, they’ll forgive you. But, I’m just saying, most people around here don’t care nearly as much as you think so. Most of them are way older anyways, so they’re tired of us.”

“Is that you complimenting yourself?” Jude asked.

“Not intentionally,” I said, “but I will take it.”

She laughed. “You shouldn’t be so nice to strangers.”

I wasn’t trying to be. I just didn’t think I wanted her to dislike me.

#3

“I don’t think it’s a bad thing or a good thing,” Jude said. “Being good gets you tucked into a thousand different memories. Being good makes you live a lifetime.”

I almost laughed, but then I wondered what I was to her now. “I don’t talk to lots of people.”

“Sometimes there aren’t many people to talk to. But I thought you would have loads of friends.”

I wasn’t sure what to say to that. “I thought you would too.”

Alarm like grief lit her eyes, but she laughed. I did too.

“You hardly know me,” she said quietly.

Then the girls explore some old newspapers and letters in a fire tower! Spooky fun!

CHAPTER: YOU LET THIS HAPPEN

This isn’t a major spoiler as it’s literally in the blurb I wrote, but Ray and Jude are caught (targeted..??)  in a fire. Ray is brought back to a field where she is questioned.

CHAPTER: NOTHING HAPPENS

He was quiet for several moments while he painted a picture with what little details I had given him, then said, “It’s unfair. I think that’s why it hurts.”

“Because we almost got hurt?”

“No. Because it came true.”

His gentle, ragged voice made me think I could tell him anything. Sometimes, I think that, even then, he knew I left something out.

Ray talks to Lonan after the fire... She’s being a bit dishonest about what actually happened.

CHAPTER: WHY NOT

I remember how the barest amount of red light glared across Lonan’s entire scalp and washed his boyish curls magenta from the roots out. When Jude leaned back on the counter, she melded into the darkness.

This chapter is just part of the narrative that I created with Ray and Lonan’s friendship. There isn’t much I want to spoil from it, but I liked this paragraph!

CHAPTER: INEVITABLE

“We didn’t do anything,” I said.        

“Someone did. Why won’t you believe me?”

 “I think I would remember whether or not someone was there with us,” I said, “even if we didn’t have the picture.”

This was untrue. I hung lots of photos in my room. A long time would pass before I went to a restaurant again, or a specific coven on one of the beaches, or an outfit that I wore, and I would look into one of my pictures and remember it, and then I would be quite angry with myself that I had almost forgotten that thing forever.

“I don’t think you understand what I mean,” Jude said. I didn’t like the way she’d lowered her voice. She sounded different every time I saw her. She reached out her arm so our photos were side by side and our fingers were almost touching. “I don’t think you want to.”

Ray finds herself alone in the school’s dark room with Jude. Based on the contents of one of her photos, she tries to convince Ray that there is more to the fire than what meets the eye.

CHAPTER: (this one is untitled)

I didn’t mind that he followed me everywhere. Even when he was quiet, I didn’t find it strange to be around him. We sat silently through films and went on walks. Once, he had fallen asleep while watching The Iron Giant in my bed. I didn’t know if I should wake him up once it ended. I tried not to stare at him. He’d rolled onto his side and bundled himself in one of my blankets covered in stars up to his shoulders so only his small face poked out like a baby owl’s. His soft breath messed his dirty gold coils. They were at their longest. Except for the ebbing light from a candle on my desk, my house was asleep – Lonan needed to go home.

For the first time, I wondered if anyone cared where he was.

Another small part of the little friendship narrative! (This really is the part of the story where I get nostalgic for my childhood, isn’t it) Ray starts to discover more about Lonan’s home life in this part of the story, but there’s not much that I think I want to reveal about that for now.

CHAPTER: THE CRUX OF IT

Why did I feel so paranoid? I found myself staring out the window, into the film of blue that the late sun shown onto the grass and trying to remember what summer felt like.

My main problem was that I didn’t know how to talk to Jude unless it was about Sugarfell. I ran from the hush of cigarette smoke behind closing doors and heard her loud voice in conversations. Even though there might have still been a part of me that wanted to be friends with her, I didn’t have much to base that feeling off of. I could have spent hours clicking the little pieces of her that I had together, but the crux of it was that I would never know Jude unless I forced myself to.

For some reason, that really scared me.

I spent all week trying to think of what to say to her. By Friday afternoon, I still had nothing.

I left off writing with Ray actively avoiding Jude’s little investigation into the arsonist. Ray doesn’t want to be involved in this because she feels that it will throw her sense of normalcy off course. She really just wants to learn how to adapt to a life without her best friend. (It doesn’t help that she’s got fresh trauma)

What will Ray decide? I don’t know. We shall see. (just kidding I know)

Sorry this update was longer! I think I would like to start updating more often than once a month just because they would be shorter and those of you reading this won’t forget what happened in the last update. There are thousands and thousands of words that didn’t show up in this update because - like I said - I don’t know whether I want to publish this story ever?? I’ll probably talk more about this in a separate update.

Thank you so much to those of you who read about my story! I hope you enjoy it!

:)

p.s. btw I now have a myWriteClub account! You can check it out here and stalk me as I tragically fail my writing goals!

[juststruggling]

Update on me speaking

I’ve been almost completely mute for about 2 days. At most I’ll say a couple of words, but that’s it. Again I don’t know why perhaps I’m stressed out, but I’ve never been mute this long. Usually, it’s about an hour or 2. Usually, people don’t even notice when I do it, but now there’s no hiding it. My mom thinks I’m upset, and I try to explain to her, but she’s not getting it. I wanted to be on the phone with my friends so I told them in advance. I don’t think they understand. One of them thought I just meant I wanted some time alone, and another tried to relate? Like I’m not being shy. I’m deadass mute I can talk I just won’t I can’t intentionally bring myself to talk. I feel like a child :\

[dreamescapeswriting]

Green eyed Monster ~ PJM [Request]

➳➳➳Word Count: 3K

➳➳➳Genre: Angst, fluff

➳➳➳Pairing: Park Jimin x Reader

➳➳➳A/N: I adore Halsey so much, she’s one of my inspirations lmao….Also this is so bad because I have writers block, it’s really starting to make me struggle right now but I am trying so Im sorry. If this isn’t what you wanted let me know and I will try again.

You'd never really experienced jealously until now at this moment, your body was boiling with jealously just from watching Jimin with her, but you knew there was nothing to worry about and he would never do anything to hurt you intentionally but it didn't stop your mind from racing all over the place and your brain jumping to from conclusion to conclusion without stopping to think logically. Jimin loved you and you loved Jimin that should be the only thing that mattered but the little green-eyed monster sitting on your shoulder didn't see it that way. It had all started because you wanted to surprise him while he was out here in America, thinking it would be a nice surprise but once you arrived you saw he had his mind on something else, 

You were exhausted from work that day, you were working overtime to try and save up tickets to go and visit your boyfriend in America. Jimin had flown over for a series of concerts and you were left at home to work and look after your shared apartment but it didn't stop you from wanting to fly out and see him.

"Another day another dollar." You grumbled shoving the tip money you'd gotten that night into a glass jar you kept under your bed, you looked over at the clock on the wall and you knew you had an hour before your call with Jimin meaning you could go and have a shower so he wouldn't know you'd only just gotten in from work. It was a secret that you were going to fly out a see him, Taehyung had told you he would help you with the plane ticket if you wanted but you decided it was better for you to pay because you hated when other people paid for things for you. It had been that way since you started dancing Jimin, you made it clear you didn't want him to pay for everything because you didn't want him to think you were just using him for the money which he didn't think anyway, but he respected that was how you felt about the situation.

"Hi baby," You sang in the phone expecting the caller to be Jimin but when you heard Taehyung laughing you felt your heart sink a little, not that you didn't love talking to Tae but you were missing your boyfriend a lot. 

"Hello to you too." He chuckled and you smiled softly to yourself trying to stay positive about why Jimin was late for his call, he was probably just busy with practice or something.

"Sorry, I thought you were Jimin." You sounded defeated and Taehyung knew how hard you were trying to stay happy for Jimin it was always the same when he went away. You would be happy for him because you knew how much everything meant to Jimin so you would never do anything to come in between him and his dream you just hated the distance the most when it came down to it.

"How much do you have?" He questioned wanting to know if there was anything he could do to help you out, 

"I have enough for a taxi from here to the airport." You grumbled looking over at the money jars you'd taken out to count while you waited for Jimin to call you.

"Let me help you, by this rate you'll be able to see him in three tours time." You knew he was right but you didn't feel good taking money from him, 

"Think of it as a loan, pay me back when you earn the money." You hummed and he chuckled getting excited to see you.  

"Where is he anyway?" You asked looking at the clock it was one am for you in Korea which meant it was around 9 am for Jimin in Las Vegas, they were getting ready to prepare for the performance at the Billboard Music Awards. 

"He's trying to teach Halsey the dance with Namjoon, the dance was changed when we sent it over to her." You hummed and smiled, you'd loved Halsey's music for ages and you were glad they were finally working with someone who wasn't just going to use them for their fame. 

"Is she nice?" You asked getting into bed and laying down, Taehyung began telling you about all the time they'd been spending with her for the last two days and you smiled fondly. 

"I'm glad you're enjoying yourself Tae," You whispered finally feeling the effects of the long day you'd had, 

"I'll get your ticket ready for tomorrow your time, late as possible okay?" You hummed and he smiled to himself knowing how much it was going to mean to Jimin that you were willing to fly out and see him. 

"Goodnight Y/n," Tae whispered hanging up the phone and going to find you a plane ticket that was accessible for you at the earliest convenience. 

When you arrived he was busy and you understood that it was his job to be busy but it didn't make it any easier to see him all over Halsey, watching them dancing and laughing together as though you weren't in the room. No one but the boys and management knew you were together, it was supposed to be kept a secret from everyone because it was easier to control what got out about the relationship that way. 

"Y/n come here," Namjoon called noticing that you were staring at Jimin and Halsey from across the room, you slowly made your way over to the leader and kept your eyes trained at the ground. 

"You're supposed to be keeping a low profile." He mumbled to you and you stared up at him, by that he meant stop staring at Jimin all the time you were going to make it obvious. There were cameras everywhere documenting the boys time with her for a series Halsey was doing for her fans.

"Sorry, it's just a little hard when he's all over her-"

"He's just doing his job, leave it." He finished for you before you could even get your words out, you nodded and walked away from him going back to the corner of the room you were sitting in. Taehyung came over to join you with a bottle of water and some snacks for you but you weren't hungry, you were too busy looking at Halsey and comparing her to yourself in every way you could and in your mind she was perfect in every way you weren't. Even dressed in sweatpants and a hoodie she looked amazing, 

"I'm not hungry." You mumbled taking the water and slowly drinking from the bottle but keeping your eyes on them. His hands were lingering on her skin and ou felt yours boil, 

"Has he introduced you yet?" Taehyung asked noticing where your eyes were going and you shook your head, 

"He said he would last night but I know he's busy." You whispered trying not to come across as the jealous girlfriend. You weren't normally jealous, he was always surrounded by beautiful women but this felt different to you for some reason. 

"Jimin!" Tae yelled beckoning him over, Halsey followed him and smiled at you bringing you into a tight hug and smiling. 

"I'm Halsey,"

"I'm Y/n I'm-"

"Taehyung's best friend." Jimin rushed out, you and Taehyung both stared at Jimin and he was smiling at Halsey who was smiling back at you. 

"Well it's nice to meet you Y/n best friend of Taehyung," You nodded and looked at her as she walked away, Jimin stayed behind for a couple of seconds. 

"I know how to introduce myself Jimin, I'm just a friend to everyone else who doesn't know about us." He stared at you, he felt guilty for it coming across the way he did but he panicked not knowing if you were going to tell her or not. 

"Plus I thought I was your best friend?" You giggled poking his cheeks but instead of blushing like he normally would at the action he moved away from your touch and looked around to make sure no one had noticed. You felt your heartbreak a little when he pushed your hand away and went back over to the dance floor, you tried to push it down that he was just a little nervous about the performance but then you saw them together again. Holding eye contact and smiling to each other, laughing at something you hadn't heard.

"He's just stressed about the stage." Taehyung tried to tell you but you knew he wasn't, you'd see Jimin nervous about something before and this wasn't Jimin nervous. This was Jimin flirting with someone else and you could feel your heart shattering whenever you heard them laughing at something, 

"You should go and practise, I don't want to hold you all back." You whispered to Taehyung who slowly left you alone in the corner of the room to go to his position on the dance floor and continued to dance along with the boys.

You'd left the practise early to go back to the hotel room, you were tired from the plane ride and wanted to sleep a little before the big stage performance they would be putting on later. The door to your hotel room banged opened and Jimin was standing there with a giant smile on his face, you hadn't seen him smile that much in so long and it filled you with an immense amount of happiness that you jumped up from the bed to find out what he was so happy about.

"What's put you in such a good mood?" You giggled as he pulled you into his arms, his left arm was hanging around your waist and he bent down to kiss you making you giggle against him. 

"Can a boyfriend just be happy to be with his girlfriend?" You giggled once again and kissed him your arms wrapping around his neck to bring yourself closer to him. 

"I also have this-" He pulled away from you to show you the small bracelet which was around his wrist, you stared at it with a smile. 

"A friendship bracelet from Halsey!" You continued to stare at the small bracelet and forced yourself to keep the smile on your face, you didn't want to show him that it was bothering you so much. 

"She's like a best friend." You looked down at the floor and smiled, 

"That's great Jimin, I'm glad you like her so much already." It was true, you were happy he was getting along with her it wasn't as though he wasn't allowed to have friends that weren't girls, he had plenty but this one was bothering you for some reason. You loved Halsey but maybe it was because of how he'd introduced you or the way he pushed you to the side when she was around but it was bothering you more than it should have done. 

"I'm going to have a shower before tonight, do you want to join me?" You giggled pulling at his sweatpants strings towards the en-suite but he was staring at the phone and shaking his head, 

"We're going to eat with Halsey,"

"We?" Your heart picked up thinking it was you and the boys with Halsey but he turned to look at you, 

"Yeah, we're going to do a small interview there with her camera crew." Your heart slowed back down again and you nodded, 

"Okay...Shall I meet you back here or am I going to the venue?" You asked looking at him and he shrugged his shoulders, 

"Whatever is easier for you." With that, he left the room without giving you a kiss or a hug goodbye and you felt your heart dropping back down to your stomach at the thought of him being with her again. Did he not want to be seen with you? Were you embarrassing to him? You decided you were going to be as normal as you could manage tonight, picking out one of the best dresses you'd brought along with you and going to meet them at the venue. 

You were dressed in an off the shoulder black skater dress which was thigh length and you were waiting in the changing room for the boys to come backstage and be with you, you knew you couldn't be out on the floor with them which is why you were in the changing room watching everything on a screen. The chemistry was hot on stage and you were proud of how amazing they had performed in spite of your feelings of jealously from before everything pushed away once you saw how it all worked on stage. Taehyung was the first one backstage with you and he picked you up in the air making you giggle at him being so childish with you, 

"Ah! You guys did amazing!" You laughed and then looked at the sunflower shirt he was wearing, 

"I'm so stealing this from you after tonight." Halsey started laughing from behind you, Taehyung put you back down on the ground and you hugged her once again. 

"It's nice to see you again, I'm sorry you couldn't make it to dinner Jimin said you had a headache." You slowly nodded as you pulled away from her, 

"Yeah but I'm all good now." You complimented her white suit and she complimented the dress that you were wearing, you were hitting it off amazingly until Jimin came over and threw his arms around you both and it brought back the fact that he told a lie to you and Halsey.

"You're so happy lately," You giggled looking up at him as he smiled down at you, Halsey was over talking to Namjoon and you were alone with Jimin. 

"I have my two favourite girls with me, why wouldn't I be happy?" You smiled fakely and leant up to whisper in his ear, 

"My headache is back I think I might go back to the hotel room." You felt him tense up as you mentioned the lie he'd told Halsey, you pulled away and locked eye with him. 

"Baby-" You walked over to Taehyung and told him you weren't feeling well and that you would see him the next day instead, 

"I hope you feel better soon," Halsey said with a pout wrapping you in a tight hug once again, 

"I'll walk out with you." She said quick goodbyes to the boys and rushed out of the room with you, once you were alone in the hallway with no one but her bodyguard she linked your arms together. 

"I'm sorry about Jimin, I had no idea you were dating." You shook your head trying to laugh off what she'd said, 

"I-I'm just their friend, me and Jimin-"

"Relax, I know the signs." You sighed and rounded a corner she was still holding onto your arms, 

"If I'd have known I never would have flirted back with him." You shook your head at her and smiled softly, 

"It's fine, it's just in his blood to flirt." You mumbled but she didn't seem convinced that you were fine and wanted to somehow make it up to you for what she'd been doing, 

"We'll go to dinner tomorrow and have a pamper night, how long are you in town for?" She was really trying to be friendly with you and you were excited about it you'd never really had girl friends before, just a couple of friends from school but you rarely spoke to them. 

"I'd love that actually, I can't remember the last time I had a pamper night...I'm here for the rest of the week." She smiled agreeing to make more plans with you when she had the time but she was late, she handed you her number and let you leave in one of her cars back to the hotel.

The week had been by in a flash and now you were back home with Jimin in your shared apartment, after that night with Halsey and him lying to you both you talked it all out. He promised he meant no harm by anything he'd been doing and you promised him it was fine.

"Who are you texting?" He asked once he noticed you smiling so much at your phone, you smiled at him and showed him the collection of photographs that Halsey had sent you. 

"It's from the week, did I tell you she took me dancing?!" You asked excitedly showing him videos of you both on the dance floor doing the boy with Luv dance, she was really fun to hang around with and Jimin could feel himself getting jealous by the second. Ever since you'd been hanging around with Halsey that week she was all you could talk about and he was starting to see why you were so off with him last week. 

"Jimin look." You giggled showing him the matching necklaces that you and Halsey had gotten on the last day, it was a love heart locket with a photo of you both inside and your initials carved onto the front.

"Your little green-eyed monster is showing Jimin." You teased as he walked away with a pout on his lips, you chased after him and threw your arms around his neck jumping up onto his back and kissing his head. 

"I LOVE YOU!" You yelled making him chuckle, he pulled you back down to the floor and stood in front of you, he cupped your face in his hands and kissed you sweetly, 

"I am sorry for what I did." You hummed and kissed him again, 

"Makeup sex for the 16th time this week?" You giggled kissing down his neck and sucking along the skin, he groaned out your name and you smirked knowing the effect you had on him. 

"Come on then." He chuckled putting your phone down on the table and running with you up to your room together.

Tagline: 

@yoongisdumplingcheeks @snowy-meowl @lynnthevirgo @jooniesdarlingdimples @kpopfanfictionhoes​ @lyoongx​ @mitzwinchester​ @fan-ati--c​ @callingmyangel​ @btsiguess-kpop​ @rjsmochii​

[minaminokyoko]

I know I’m screaming into the void here, but

Can we talk about the lack of HarriKarri content in Peace Talks?

Spoilers for Peace Talks below. Also, a very long rant.

Disclaimer: Recently, the reading community has been having conversations about expectations related to professional authors backed by one of the Big Six or equivalent traditional publishing companies. The points I’m about to bring are not me being entitled. I understand that Jim Butcher is not obligated to give me everything I want. I will not demand that he do so. I just want to have a conversation about something I feel is oddly dissatisfying about the content in Peace Talks related to Harry and Murphy, which is my own opinion, and said opinion isn’t going to be slung at the author or anything distasteful like that.

Right, so, to give some context, I’m not a fan of Peace Talks. I read it once and then just sat on my couch for several hours after trying to figure out what to even do with myself because I waited six years for what I consider to be an underwhelming book that was mostly just set up for Battle Ground. I mention it because I admit that if we get Battle Ground in September and all the content in Harry and Murphy’s relationship that was missing in Peace Talks is in Battle Ground, fine, I’ll retract my statements. Some fans have already expressed that they can’t really review Peace Talks or give opinions on it because it feels so much like a companion piece that you can’t evaluate it until you’ve read Battle Ground, as the book seems to be nothing but the precursor to Battle Ground. It doesn’t stand on its own very well, at least not in my eyes, but let me get to the point.

The reason I’ve been feeling angry and betrayed by Peace Talks’ lack of HarriKarri content isn’t just because I’m the Queen of the Harry/Murphy trashpile. I’m not speaking strictly as a shipper this time. Y’all know me. I mean, look, I’ve written 185k words of Harry/Murphy fanfiction, most of which was written during the incredibly long wait between Skin Game and Peace Talks. Yes, I know, it’s hypocritical of me to say I’m not writing this post because I’m a big dumb shipper queen. I do mean it that I sincerely think it’s outright bizarre that we got so little insight into how these two best fire-forged friends and lovers are doing in a romantic relationship.

Let me make my case here. Okay, so the first thing is that romance is a huge element in this series. Harry’s love life is important not only to him as a character, but it actually plays directly into the plot, from Susan’s selfish stupidity to Elaine’s mistrust to Luccio’s mysterious manipulation to Lasciel’s Heel Face Turn. If someone wanted to argue the reason we didn’t see much of Harry and Murphy together as a couple is because romance isn’t the primary focus of the series, that’s not going to hold water. The connection between Harry and his paramours has always been a large element in each of these books in various ways. That’s probably the first thing that signaled that something was off about Peace Talks.

Think about the previous books. Harry’s relationships are both a source of comfort and conflict for him, allowing him to learn and grow as a character, and none moreso than his relationship with Murphy. I have so many of their scenes vividly memorized by now because of how important both friendship and love are to Harry and to Murphy as well. There are milestones that they’ve reached starting from Storm Front onward. I would honestly argue it is the most developed relationship in the series, in terms of how much these two trust and respect and love one another and understand where they fit into the other person’s life. I remember reading that bit in White Night where Bob says they swapped souls through a hug and that left a huge impression on me because I think that’s what soulmates would look and sound like in real life (wouldn’t know, I am single af and going to die an old cat lady.) It’s to a point where, in my honest opinion, there is no Harry without Murphy. She is the other half of his soul. Where he is weak, she is strong, where she is weak, he is strong, and they move forward through every conflict knowing that about each other. And I think the reverse is true. We saw how Murphy took Harry’s disappearance and death—it fucking broke her. Her entire personality and beliefs came crashing down and while she was still able to function in his absence, she was just as much a ghost as he was.

So why the fuck wasn’t there anything in Peace Talks illustrating just how vital this relationship is?

I’m not keen on reading the book again, but from what I remember, we were given roughly three significant interactions between Harry and Murphy that had anything to do with their romance: Harry at the house while she’s recovering, the scene where she takes the casts off, and then her talking to him after Ebenezar almost kills him. And…that’s it. Do they still interact in the book? Yes. But it’s nothing memorable, aside from the threesome suggestion (in all fairness, that was hilarious, and it was even more hilarious to me that both Harry and Murphy didn’t outright say no).

Why is that weird? Because I can seriously name book by book how many significant conversations and scenes that Harry and Murphy have that develop their dynamic, sexy, fun, beautiful relationship…and yet the book where they’re actually together, after sixteen goddamn books, has almost nothing.

And it shouldn’t be like that at all.

I know my own bias. Really, I do. I’ve written so many Harry/Murphy fics that I was bound to be let down when we actually got the canon relationship, but the difference between me being let down and me feeling betrayed is that it feels like it’s for no reason. There are plenty of spots in the book considering it’s kind of short where Butcher could have given us insight into the way they hooked up for the first time. I know I don’t speak for the entire fandom, but I do know there are enough of you who like me wanted to know about their first “official” date or seeing how the people in his life reacted to them finally getting together after so many years. That’s not just shipper trash. That’s satisfying storytelling payoff. It is extremely important to us as readers and to the actual narrative itself that we see what it’s like for Harry and Murphy to be in a mature romantic relationship. Both of them have been longing and pining for each other for ages, and yet Butcher doesn’t give us the meaty bits we’re dying to chomp our teeth into. For God’s sake, Harry was hung up on the little things about Murphy, like her riding her motorcycle or her cute nose and ear lobes or the way she smiles or how she gives him the sass right back to his face. Yet we don’t get any indication of the momentous event of the first time he actually got to second base (or more) with her. We don’t see any of the things that we were clamoring for because these are two best friends giving in to serious feelings and that’s a huge deal since they’ve both pretty much been smitten since Storm Front.

It’s not a matter of appeasing shippers at this point. This relationship is a huge change that is important to both of them, and we didn’t get jackshit about the transition from friends to lovers. Hell’s bells, there’s an entire genre of fics in every work of fiction devoted to this trope and yet Butcher just skipped over it. I swear I’m not making mountains out of molehills. It doesn’t make sense that all the previous books with the exception of Dead Beat (since Murphy was out of town) have significant moments between Harry and Murphy that build on their friendship and partnership yet the moments in Peace Talks are way too short and aren’t anything groundbreaking or memorable. And this is them canonically together, heading for the iceberg, being with the person they love dearly. I want to know what that’s like because I care about them and it feels inorganic that it’s brushed off for plot or other things instead.

I don’t get it. I truly don’t. If Butcher is waiting to unleash the content I want in Battle Ground, I guess that’ll help, but after so much build up, why in God’s name wouldn’t you explore all the things we want to know about how their romance is going? Harry and Murphy have been through literal hell together, for God’s sake. They’re both cagey and in extremely stressful situations—especially poor Karrin—and yet it’s just brushed aside time and time again. It would keep us grounded to see how they handle it as it is one of the few nice things in their lives that they have left.

Those of you who know Butcher know that he’s one of the sadist authors. I know that too. He thinks it’s funny to make us angry and frustrate us and he may have already said it in an interview or a podcast why he chose not to go into detail about the romance (feel free to link me if he has) but for the first time in my life, I think that’s not good enough. It’s not a good enough excuse for Butcher to giggle and intentionally not give us the content we want just because he thinks it’s funny. Yes, as the author, you choose what you write, but this is a slap in the face to people who have been reading these books for so many years and rooting for Harry and Murphy to get their shit together and be happy. We know how the series is gonna end—fucking bloody as hell—so these precious moments are that much more important. If he’s said he didn’t include romantic elements in this book because “haha trollface,” then he can fuck off. We’ve invested time in this series. We care about the relationship and there are so many creative, fun things that could have come out of seeing them together after all this build up.

And yeah, I know, I can write another 185k words of fix it fics and missing scenes. I probably will anyway. I’m frustrated because this isn’t just some shallow checkmark romance in an urban fantasy series. These two are incredible characters and it’s a negative reflection on the work itself when Butcher spent all the time in previous books building up the sexual tension and the pining and the deeply felt affection only to just cut to curtains fluttering when they’re about to get to the hanky panky or just have a quick “I love you” in the tub or the brief talk about family at the end. There are so many conversations they could have had. There are so many scenarios with the potential for romance even with their chastity belts firmly in place due to Murphy’s injuries. This isn’t about sex. This is about fulfilling a precedent that Butcher purposely set up and then just seemed to wave it off for some reason. I’m not saying the book is bad because we didn’t get the content; I’m saying it would’ve been a lot goddamn better if we’d gotten that content. 

Butcher’s gonna Butcher. No one can change it. I can’t make demands. My fifteen bucks doesn’t mean I get to call the shots and tell the man what to write.

But I just want to note that I thought it was a pretty shitty choice to exclude it.

Sigh. See you guys in Battle Ground, I guess.

And also AO3.

I’m gonna write a fuckton of missing scenes and no one can stop me.

[why-are-you-even-here-tho]

okay people. i’m gonna be spitting a lot of Words. because i’m feeling a lot of Feelings at the moment and i don’t know how to express them through any other methods so. yeah. 

this is just gonna be me venting so. probably wouldn’t recommend reading but idk u do u i guess. i put most of the things that i think are triggers in the tags, but i’m actual shit at tagging so. if literally anything is gonna affect you negatively just. don’t read. i can’t tag everything and yeah. idk. to the cut now i guess. bye. 

hi lmaooo what the fUCK am i writing lmaoo

so. first. my past week has been fucking shit. 

    first, i was super fuckin stressed cause i had chair placement auditions for band, a 70 point spanish vocab test, and a 5-7 minute presentation of elizabethan crime and punishment all due in the span of two fucking hours on wednesday. and my stepmother. has the fucking a u d a c i t y. to tell me that i’m actually only allowed to study (on my computer, where everything is) for one hour after school each day. like honey i can’t control what i’m fuckin assigned. and she’s already shitty with me cause she thinks that i’m not doing anything when i’m on my computer (which, despite what you all have seen of me, is not true lmao). so she’s super fuckin dumb about that. 

    second. my chickens. which i call my chickens because, up until recently, i was the only person that did jack shit for those fuckin birds. literally. stepmother bought the food and sold the eggs. maybe went outside once every couple weeks. it pissed me off but you know. whatever. that’s not even what i’m talking about this time. but she goes out there, before i do my daily stuff for them, and comes back in- whirlwind if pissed off cause the stuff isn’t done. like honey i haven’t done that yet. and she gets bitchy cause i haven’t done it yet and starts to go on about how she knew that i secretly hated the chickens and that she bet that i intentionally fucking killed some of them (cause a few of them actually disappeared this week)?? like what in the fUCK??? i would never fuckin do that??? and i love hearing her complain about what food and water is full to the top as if she bothers doing literally anything to help with them. so i’m now not even allowed in my own fucking backyard because apparently i’m a fuckin serial chicken killer. fuck that. 

    third. i had. the audacity to forget an entire assignment. and stepmother dearest sees it. and goes fuckin apeshit. i am the epitome of disrespectful and useless and such a little bitch and stupid and do i need someone to go with me to school every day and hold my hand and remind me to breathe? and like. i can take that, in a way. it’s the normal shit i get from this woman. what really, for some odd reason, got me this time? when she asked, i think completely sincerely, actually, if there was some sort of implant that could make me better. like bitch. i’m not a fucking dog, you don’t need to fucking chip me so you know where i am all the time. i’m not a fucking robot that needs a fucking upgrade so that my fucking memory is better. i haven’t really said anything to her (or anyone really) about this (cause i don’t fuckin trust her not to give me shit because of it) but i have. a fuckin Issue. with fuckin dehumanization. and that hit. every single fucking button. so i’m fucking pissed and just decide that hey. i’m gonna go to my room for a minute. so i don’t fucking murder my dad’s wife. and i get shit for that too!!! like what in the fUCK???? and now i’m at my grandma’s for some length of time. in fuckin exile. 

    fourth, because i feel like it’s its own thing. my stepmom. as i’m going to my grandma’s for my tommyinnit arc. stops me for a minute. uses her “i’m being genuine (lie) and just trying to make you understand my point of view (with the attitude that it is the only one that matters cause yeah) because being me is hard :(” voice. tells me. “I just want to help you, but you being here makes me think about hurting myself.” which. yes, i understand is not a thing to just dismiss. i do kinda feel shitty about it. but also. 2 things. one, she said it in such a tone of voice that practically screamed “this is a lie to make you feel like shit”. and two, she?? also does this?? to me??? like honey. the blood on the inside of the thighs of my pants and the pocketknife blade hidden in my jewelry box are saying a bit more about “thinking about hurting myself” than you, sitting there on the couch, rewatching game of thrones for the third time. i sound like an asshole in this bit. but i’m just. fuckin angry. 

     fuckin angry and fuckin pissed at myself. cause maybe if i didn’t fuck that assignment up, i’d not be in so much trouble. if i did the chicken stuff earlier that day i’d be at home still. if i could focus more in class my parents might not be as easy to piss off. if i were just. better. if i were not. like this. if i could do more than just “try to” change. if i could look at my issues and actually work to fix them rather than staying up till midnight on a weekday, spending over an hour typing a fucking essay about the shit i’ve been through this week that nobody is gonna read. maybe even if i just. weren’t here. 

    i wasn’t supposed to exist. there were. so many signs. telling my parents that they shouldn’t have kids. one - the fact?? that my mom had no less than four miscarriages??? before she got pregnant with me??? one would think that they may stop trying after like. two. and my mom already had one son! it was with her first husband (red flag right there lmao) but she had! a kid! already! why go through all that pain? idk. i’m not, and never will be, a parent. two - my parents! actually did! decide to stop trying! to have a kid! and then my bitchy little -9 month old ass was like “hey bitches are you ready for 16 years of hell?” three - there were so many issues with my (i mean. not mine but the only one i’ve been involved in) pregnancy. like. mom got badly sick like. 3 times. she told me one day that her doctor told her that it would be healthier for me? if she kept smoking while she was pregnant???? so that’s fun. and i’m positive that it was not just nicotine. yeah. fun. don’t necessarily have an issue with weed but like. bro. you’re pregnant. no thanks. four - i was a cesarean. not that that’s really an issue. but. i felt like it might go on here. five - i refused! to breathe! on my own! for almost 24 hours! this might have meant something!!!!! 

     i don’t even know what i’m writing anymore honestly. i’m feeling emotions and i hate it. it’s midnight. i’ve spent over an hour writing this.  why am i not working on my fic. bye.

i would like access to alcohol please lmao

[asdmumramblings]

THE BEAUTY OF AUTISM AND HOMESCHOOLING

Becoming a parent is the best thing I have ever done. There will never be another accomplishment that matches the joy they bring to my life. All three of my brood have been diagnosed with Autism. Scarlett was diagnosed at 5, Lillyanna at 10 and Edward at age 3. They all have their own individual quirks and make me laugh, out loud, on a daily basis. Lillyanna and her best bud could easily become the next French and Saunders. Both are quick witted and possess the same dark sense of humour my husband is blessed with.

Yesterday, as I watched the news she unexpectedly exclaimed,

“That woman from China who ate bats, is like the best serial killer EVER!” Rather dark but yet a welcome distraction from the BBC.

She is visually very amusing too and captivating to watch. I am always left in fits when she describes things to me. She isn’t always intentionally funny but her ability to laugh at herself is one of the qualities I love about her. Like the time she was throwing a ball up in the air and catching it. I asked her a question mid throw, she forgot she even had a ball which abruptly landed on her head. We both started to laugh and were glad it was a soft ball.

Lillyanna currently has long covid and suffers extreme exhaustion. This has made homeschooling difficult. She doesn’t seem to gain much from the live sessions so we often print out the information and learn together. Well today we studied Science and energy consumption. Including calculations for KW used per hour and that sort of thing.

“This will be easy,” I though. “She is good at maths.” How wrong was I.

Although she is great at mechanical maths she has always struggled slightly with the worded questions. Many autistic people do because they have to pick out the relevant information buried within the text. Therefore we begun the task by underlining the information we needed. We talked through the calculations we needed to do. I had mentioned a couple of times that you can use a calculator for scientific related maths, yet she continued to perform complex equations on paper. Well done Lillyanna! although it was dragging things out so I decided to reiterate,

“Remember you don’t need to use long multiplication in science questions.” She then paused for a period of time. “What’s the matter? You okay?”

“I’m confused. I don’t know how to work it out.”

“But you know the calculation. Just find the answer. Remember you don’t need to do the long multiplication if you don’t want to.” I said expecting her to get her calculator. She looked really stressed and began to write random numbers down. “What are you doing?”

“Well you said, ` you don’t use long multiplication in Science.` I’m trying to find the answer without it.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t explain myself correctly. What I mean is you don’t need to work the answers out on paper in science, showing your working. You can use your calculator to find the answer instead.” We both enjoyed a chuckle over my lack of explanation and her literal thinking. Then we had to use percentages. Now she fully understands these when in maths class but asking her to use the information for Science. Well, it was like I was asking her to talk in another language. Science was then abandoned and you tube percentage reminder began.

“Why are you showing me this? I know how to do percentages.”

She is kidding right? Nope. I give you the `inability to transfer knowledge to new/other situations` conundrum. Many autistic people struggle with this concept. For instance if they learn a new skill at home they may not use that new skill in a school setting for some time. It’s as though their brain files information in a given section and will not access it automatically to use in other situations. This is where interventions come in handy. That and being clear on what you would like them to do. Something which I failed at today.

[mollydollyjournals]

Maybe I need to just like. Scream. Loudly. For a few hours.

My concentration is still so bad I'm barely getting anywhere with this same set of nails. Still. I'm trying to keep working on it but my mind is just not doing it because I feel constantly on edge. This is day 3. One set of nails! Jesus they're not that good. I take a long time to do most things but my mind is really just not functioning.

I'm feeling really particularly isolated again. I have nothing to say that might be of interest to anyone else. I dont really even know how to respond to the small amount of interaction I do get. A friend has started being more talkative in our group chat and sent me a message asking for some info on nail art techniques - maybe I'm being self centred but I feel like it could at least partially be an effort to get me talking. If so I appreciate it. But I still dont really have anything to say beyond quick surface responses.

My mum asked if I'm going to see her this weekend. I wouldn't on Sundays because she has a zoom call with relatives I dont want to talk to. It occurred to me that saturday is tomorrow. Part of me wants to go to hers and drink red wine and just connect with someone. The one person who's almost always had my back, or at least has never seriously intentionally opposed me. I want to go see my dog and my kitten and tell her that actually I'm doing pretty bad, I'll probably be divorced by xmas and sometimes I hear things that arent particularly confusing or distressing but they're definitely not real.

But that's not how it works in our dynamic. She had a serious psychotic episode when I was a teenager, and I took care of it all. My younger brother has ongoing psychosis. It's in our family. If I say I hear things she'll only panic. My doctor knows so it's not a secret - if theres one thing I learned from both of their cases, it's not to stay in denial. But theres no point telling her. And the divorce stuff? She'll internalise it. One of her children is dead, one is an ongoing psychiatric case with not much of a future because he's also actually a pretty terrible person, and the last one is me. She feels bad enough because her "marriage failed," which is a weird phrase her generation seem to use. She told me before not to date other people in case it hurts my "marriage." She'll think it's that, and start spiralling about her history with my dad and the one guy she's dated since they divorced. She won't believe me and hb were fine having other relationships and the issues arent to do with that, and I dont have the energy to talk through her stuff again.

Maybe it's getting to me more than I think. It's not like I didnt know this shitstorm was coming. But now it advances. Like I heard the forecast before, but now I can see it on the horizon. Now I have to really truly consider moving out of the house and splitting up the cats and whatever else. Thinking about it, maybe i should talk to my mum. Itll almost definitely be her I move in with if it all goes through. But then maybe I should only talk about it if I'm sure.

I dont know. I'm jealous of everyone with good parental relationships. I still havent even texted my dad for his birthday. I guess I should do that. I kind of miss when all 4 of us go back to my dad's house for drinks, us and my half brother. But that's not going to happen for a long time yet, for all kinds of reasons. Maybe it never will again. I'm catastrophising I guess. But it's hard not to with the current track record. I just feel like there isnt any evidence of positive things. Really, truly. The best thing that's happened to me recently is I sent the rented carpet cleaner off and then saw that my cat did a big healthy shit in the middle of the carpet. I have to be happy about that because it means hes not losing his guts to diarrhea and vomiting like he was before. But I still have to deal with a hygienic nightmare and probably a stressed cat picking up on my mental state. And I still have to gauge the whole situation based on a literal pile of shit.

I feel like thinking positive is just kidding myself and giving into my genetic tendency towards psychosis. If I'm going to convince myself of something that isnt real in order to make myself feel better, why not lose myself in a fantasy entirely? I should just build an entire world where everything is okay and lock myself away in it. Why stop at just telling myself that this one bad thing or another won't happen.

I try my best to stay grounded in reality to avoid ending up in that kind of mental state. But reality is fucking tiring. I know my life isnt the worst in the world by far, I dont mean that. But we're all going through some extra shit these past couple of years. I struggle not to take that on too. Not that it even helps. We had a mass shooting here today and I'm thinking about the people who thought they were safe because they live in England where firearms are extremely rare, the parents of the child who died, the people living in that area who will feel so unsafe now, and all the pro-gun lobbyists in the US who will use this as a reasoning that gun control doesn't work thus keeping millions of other people at risk as long as those laws dont change. But god. I would be dead many times over if guns were as easy to buy here as they are over there.

And then I think about all the people that have been lost to situations like that. I'm multiracial and have family in multiple different places - I was always raised with the idea that you dont stop caring about people just because they're not in the same country as you. And it's true, you shouldnt. But I've internalised a lot of it as fear and sorrow and idk what else. Just bad feelings. Feeling like the world is such a terrible place, that I cant deal with my own suffering, and that if I can't deal with that then what about the people who have it worse? What can I do??

What can I do for anyone when I cant even paint a single set of nails?

I'm sure of all kinds of bad things happening. I dont want to be. Some of them I couldnt prove, so maybe it's just my mind. Many look likely. I dont know how to deal. I am all the worst parts of each of my parents and this is the result. I wish therapy was more of a thing last century. They should never have had kids. My older brother got off easy by dying. Incidentally I have to somehow gather money for his gravestone soon as nobody else in my family ever offered to help my parents with it in all this time and it's only just been put up now when I said I'd help my mum with it. I never even fucking met him. My life is like a bad tv show. Not an interesting one, not a well written drama or tragedy, just bad.

[howtodisassembleyourdeviant]

Belong

I kinda lost the plot with this one. I kept getting interrupted. I also did not intend for it to get this long. Idea stemmed from one of the prompts posted for Cute Girls and Hot Androids. 

Warning: NSFW (I can’t help it. I love writing sin.)

He thought he was doing everything right. He scoured through hours of research, read books, watched movies, even gathered knowledge by observation. things seemed to be going so smoothly.

"Don't EVER do that again!"

Your words still rang in his mind, stuck on repeat. He just wanted to show his affections. After two months, he thought it would be perfectly normal, almost chaste with what he has noticed among other couples and media, to desire physical affection. 

he just wanted a hug.

you were standing in front of the coffee machine in the break room, watching as it fills your coffee mug. You had been putting in a lot of hours lately, sent on call after call, only to come back to a large stack of paperwork. With his own duties, he could not offer assistance, though he tried to ensure you, at the very least, ate something, even if it wasn't particularly healthy. You were stressed and you were tired. Perhaps, that had been his mistake. He wanted to offer you comfort, and studies show hugs can lower stress levels. 

He had come up behind you, offering a morning greeting and getting a mumbled 'morning' in return. Just as you were about to grab your mug, his hands slid against your sides. The strange sound you made, coupled with the way you tried to jump away, caused him to pull back. You swiftly turned, looking around the room wildly before turning on him. Your threatening words had caught him off guard, and he stood watching you storm away with wide eyes and a hand over your mouth. Your cheeks had been flushed a bright red. Were you embarrassed? Was being embraced embarrassing for you? 

Or was it him? 

The thought that you might be uncomfortable because he, an android, tried to touch you made his artificial heart stop, falling from its place in his chest and sinking into a dark abyss. Looking over his memories, he realized that you had not actively sought out his touch on previous dates. He had always initiated it, taking hold of your hand when walking or a quick embrace at the end of the evening. Even with those, you had been quick to pull back. Why would you agree to date him if you had an aversion to his touch? Were you simply being too polite? 

Depression threatened to crush him under its oppressive weight, but he couldn't give in. He can't believe it. You cared for him, you said so yourself. There must be something that he's missing. 

In your mad dash, you had left your coffee, still sitting under the coffee maker. He made it, just how you like it, taking it and wordlessly dropping it off on your desk. You quietly thanked him, cheeks still tinted red. It wasn't much, but it was something.

Connor tried hard to focus on his work, but he kept thinking back to you. He tried to figure out if he missed some human cue, something to explain your actions. Every time his mind played the audio of your voice, so enraged by his actions, he sank a little deeper into despair. He moped about the DPD, doing small favors in hopes you might smile at him. Give him some reassurance that he hadn't inadvertently destroyed his chance to be with you. It wasn't until the end of his shift that you messaged him.

"Would you like to come over to my place tonight?"

He agreed with no hesitation. He sat at his desk, ruminating on his thoughts for the next hour until you were done with your work, then he followed you out. 

In your car, he wanted to strike up a conversation, anything to fill the silence hanging heavily over the two of you, but your answers were quick and precise, blocking his every attempt. Maybe you were thinking of the best way to break things off, not wanting to hurt his feelings. His chest ached, and all he wanted to do was crawl into a hole and stay there indefinitely.

At your apartment, you kept fiddling around, doing anything and everything to avoid the android standing at your door. He couldn't take it anymore. He just wants things to go back to the way they were.

"I'm sorry," he said, "Whatever I did to upset you, I didn't mean anything by it." You turned to him, seeing his pained expression. Your face scrunched up, as if you were fighting back tears.

"No, no, it wasn't you. You didn't do anything wrong," you sighed, sitting down on the couch, gesturing for him to join you. He complied. You didn't speak right away, trying to gather your thoughts. He waited patiently, hoping to get an explanation and not a dismissal.

"I'm sorry for snapping at you. I know you didn't mean anything by it. It's just-" you huffed out a breath, "-growing up, I didn't receive much attention from my parents. My father was AWOL and my mother worked all the time. When she was around, she viewed affection as weakness. I was brought up believing that." 

Connor's eyes widened. To think that you had been denied such a basic human need for so long. He hasn't known emotions for long, but in the same aspect, he wasn't that old either. In that time, he probably had more physical reassurance than you had in your entire existence. It should be a sin. He realized you were not finished.

"In high school, a friend had tried to give me a hug, but when she touched my sides, I didn't anticipate it and I... squeaked. Our little group all heard it and assumed it was because I was ticklish. After that day, they would poke or squeeze my sides any chance they got and I guess some of the sounds I made were a little... provocative. I didn't want the attention, so I started distancing myself from them. Eventually, I just kept to myself. 

"It took a long time to change my way of thinking, that showing affection was okay as long as it's wanted, but you are the first person to get this close. I guess when you touched my sides, old scars resurfaced."  He fought against the urge to apologize, knowing you didn't blame him. How could he possibly know that? Still, for you to go so long without any physical affection, and then for your first experience to be so traumatic, he can understand why you were so quick to anger back at the station. You feared it happening again. 

"My systems indicate that your symptoms are consistent with being "touch-starved". The best treatment is to be consensually touched on a regular basis, starting out slow and gradually working up to more sustained holds. If you wouldn't mind, I can offer my assistance."

You smiled softly at him, giving him a nod. 

"Okay."

Slowly, he brought his hand to yours, feeling the slight flinch before you relaxed. His hand traveled up, resting on your forearm, stroking the soft skin with his thumb.

"Is this okay?" He wants you to be comfortable with everything he does. Your eyes were closed when you nodded. 

The gentle touch felt like too much, yet not enough. You wanted him to touch you, to hold you. You wanted what others had all their lives, to be comforted by touch, rather than be scared by it. His hand didn't move, and you realized he wanted to move slow to avoid over-stimulating you. But, you wanted him to move faster. You craved the touch, needing so much after being supplied so little. You had never trusted anyone so much, but you knew Connor would never do anything to intentionally make you uncomfortable. You can only hope he would not mind if you smothered him under your needs. 

Connor was happy that you trusted him so much, and he would not take advantage of it. He kept his touch chaste and ensured you were comfortable in your environment before he would do so. He felt a little guilty, but the small sounds that you made were heavenly. He broadened his explorations of your skin, wrapping his arms around your shoulders, whispering reassurances as you began to snuggle against him. It was a week later, sitting back on your couch, that you decided to speed things up a little.

"Could... Could you turn to rest against the arm of the couch, please?" You asked hesitantly. He looked confused, but complied, legs resting on the seat. You reached out, gradually pushing one of his knees to rest against the back of the couch while the other leg was nudged to the floor. You sat between them, nervously lying down against him, body tensing against the warmth before slowly relaxing into it. Connor was secretly relishing in the feeling of your weight on him, but he kept his hands to himself as you got comfortable. You laid on your side, one of your hands at his shoulder. 

"Are you okay with this?" You asked.

"Yes, " he leaned forward and pressed his lips to your crown, "absolutely."

You pushed against him, listening to his mechanical heart, enjoying its steady beats. You had never felt such a level of comfort, as if this was where you were supposed to be. Unbeknownst to you, Connor felt the same.

He made a bold move, taking a hand and gently setting it on your waist. You jolted, squeezing his shoulder as you made that strange sound again, a mix between a squeak and a moan. Still, you didn't remove his hand, nor did you ask him to move it. You started to relax into it, loosening your grip, even allowing your fingers to begin roaming. He had to bite his lip when they slipped under the collar of his shirt. Your soft touch felt so nice. 

Seeing his reaction, you immediately pulled back, but he caught your hand, kissing your palm, over and over. He could feel you shiver, watching as he licked up to the tip of your finger. He wasn't sure what made him do this, but he liked how you watched his every move, waiting for what might come next. However, he wanted you to decide the next step, so he released your hand. You put it back on his neck, pulling yourself up and turning to lie on your stomach. His hands returned to your sides, adding gentle pressure, making direct contact with your skin as your shirt rode up. Your eyes kept glancing down at his lips, creeping closer and closer. Anticipation built up to the point where he felt he might combust, artificial breathing picking up. When you finally made contact, it was his turn to make a strange noise, softly moaning against your lips. 

When the two of you kissed before, it was always so brief, and he was always the one to initiate it, wanting to put his studies into action. The first time, it was like a jolt to his systems, and every kiss after made him desire more, but you always pulled back and smiled before finding an excuse to leave. It made him doubt his research. This, however, made him forget about it altogether, losing himself in the touch. The way you kept moving against him, and those needy sounds you were making, it was all so captivating. A touch of his tongue to your bottom lip was all it took for you to open for him, allowing him to explore your mouth, sliding against your tongue. You pulled back, gasping for breath. In his haze, he had forgotten about your very basic human need. His body begged for more, wanting to feel everything, a tingling beneath his skin. When you went to kiss him again, he turned his head.

"I'm concerned, " he whispered.

"For what?" Even your hushed voice was enough to send him into overdrive.

"If we continue, I may not be able to stop, " his dark eyes met yours, a fear residing within them. He doesn't want to do anything that could hurt you. He felt an ache, a need that wanted to be quenched. It wasn't something he didn't know about, but being what he is, he didn't expect it to be so strong. Malfunctioning programming and system errors were becoming common in deviancy, but rarely did a program activate on its own and refuse to deactivate. 

Connor's hands had moved in the heat of the moment, one resting under your arm, the other on your hip, pressing you tightly against him. You could feel a hardness, pressing against your thigh. When your eyes widened in shock, Connor looked away. You cupped his cheek, turning him back to you. Your heated stare kept him locked in place. You leaned forward whispering into his ear.

"Then, don't stop."

His body shook, holding you tighter, the strong hold making you moan. The sound vibrated through his being, and before he realized it, he had you flipped, pinning you against the couch.

"Are you sure this is what you want?" You smiled. Everything Connor ever did was for you. In his arms, you are safe. 

"Yes. I want you, Connor." 

That was all it took to break down his restraint. He lifted you up, carrying you to your room and lying you down. His lips were on you again, kissing along your jaw, behind your ear and trailing down your neck. Your hand raked through his hair, his moans intermingling with yours. Your other hand tugged at his shirt. You wanted it off.

He got the signal, pulling himself away and making quick work of the buttons, tossing the shirt to the side. You drank in the sight, hands running along his synthetic muscles. When your hand made contact with the center of his sternum, he flinched. You knew what resided there, just under fabricated skin. He didn't flinch again when you returned your hand to that spot, gently stroking it before returning to your exploration. 

While you were distracted, he slowly worked his hands under your shirt, starting with the hem at your hips before gliding them upward. He could feel you quiver at his actions. Just as he reached the bottom of your ribs, you took hold of his wrists. He quickly withdrew them, watching you sit up and take off your shirt, unsnapping your bra and taking it off before your nerves could set in. You had never been so exposed, though you suppose, neither has Connor. It felt amazing to be able to bare yourself, body and soul, to someone. To trust someone without any worries or doubts.  

Connor wasn't sure where to start, it all looked so soft and inviting. Fingers danced along your skin, making you quake under his gentle touches. When his palm ghosted over one of your nipples, you released a moan. He focused on it, intoxicated by the sounds you made and the way you gazed at him, like there wasn't an outside world, just you and him in nirvana. He likes that thought. 

Curiosity made him lean forward, taking one of your nips into his mouth, feeling it perk up as his tongue played with it. 

"Connor!" You moaned, arching into him. A leg went over his hip, trying to pull him closer. Switching to your other breast, he brought himself to rest against you, groaning at the contact against his throbbing member. His need flared again, and a warning started to flash in his vision. He was overheating. It spurred him to move faster, a hand slipping to your jeans, skillfully unbuttoning them and pulling down the zipper. In no time at all, he pulled off your pants, your panties pulled down with them. He couldn't help but stare, your sex already so wet for him. Embarrassed, you tried to close your legs, but he took hold of your knees and pushed them back apart.

"So beautiful, " he murmured in awe. His curious fingers slipped between your folds, amazed by the way you threw your head back,  moaning his name louder than before. It sounds so much better from your lips. His touch was everywhere at once, every caress causing you to make more of those beautiful sounds, your face contorting into what could only be described as pure bliss. 

It wasn't long before he slipped a finger inside, feeling your tight walls. He can't help but wonder how he will fit. You squirmed under the strange feeling. He slowly worked it in and out, letting you get accustomed before he added another, tenderly working you open. Adding a third finger, he touched a spot inside that left you breathless. You held him still, wanting more.

"Please, Connor." He couldn't deny you, undoing his own pants and swiftly taking them off, followed by his boxer briefs. You couldn't help but steal a glance at his length. He was big, making your nerves falter. In the dim light, you noticed that the tip was blue in color, leaking a steady opaque fluid. 

"I can hide it if you prefer, " he spoke above you and you realized you had been staring too long.

"Hide what?"

"The color. I just have to adjust the thickness of the skin." He can make it wider? You weren't sure you could fit him to begin with! "Your heart rate increased, so I assumed the odd color was distressing for you." You realized he was worried you didn't find him human enough.

"Connor, I don't care about that. I love you for you. Never feel that you have to disguise yourself for me."

"Love?"

Shit. It just slipped out. You knew you loved him, but that didn't mean you meant to say it! Too late to go back now.

"Yes, Connor. I love you. Is that okay?" Just as you finished speaking, he was on you again, body pressed tightly against yours as he kissed you passionately.

"Yes, " he moaned against your lips, "I've... I've never felt... Anything like this. I think... I think I love you too." His words were broken up between each kiss, unable to stop. You felt so light, needing him to hold you down,  grasping onto him desperately. He had no issues with it, happy to hold you forever. Tears escaped your eyes with your elation. This man, this perfect mechanical man, loved you. Anything after this point is just icing on the cake. 

Taking himself in hand, he stroked his length, groaning as he spread the lubricant, ensuring he was properly coated for your comfort, before lining it up with your entrance. You tensed at the contact, taking a breath to calm yourself. He pushed inside, just the tip, feeling you squeeze around the intrusion. It felt so good, unlike anything he has ever known before. He fought against himself to push deeper before you were ready. When he felt you relax again, he moved forward, sinking in slowly until his hips met yours.

"Fuck, " he ground out. "You're... So tight..." He rested between your breasts, kissing the skin to distract from the stimulation and the desire for more. He waited until you were ready, nodding your head. Testing the waters, he pulled out slightly, only an inch or two, before pressing back in. It felt incredible, and from the way you moaned into his ear, you enjoyed it as well. He started off slow and gentle, but he wasn't sure how long his careful control will last.

You couldn't contain the sounds that left you. Every time you called his name, he would speed up, setting a steady pace. Your fingers clawed at his back, leaving marks that will be gone before the morning. You wrapped your legs around his hips, allowing him deeper. The slight change of angle caused him to find your weak spot again, making you cry out. With the precise movements only an android is allowed, he hit that spot, over and over. You could feel a knot forming, getting tighter with each thrust. Connor started kissing your neck again, and you could feel him latch on to your sweet spot, marking your skin. He wanted everyone to know who he loves, who you love. His hand went to your clit, stroking it to match his pace. 

"Connor!" You screamed, the tension snapping. Connor slowed down, drawing out your orgasm. You had never come so hard, squeezing him from within. He groaned at the feeling. When you came down, he picked up his pace, chasing his own end. 

"Connor, ahh... You feel s-so good... I, hah, I love you... Come for me, Connor, come for me!" You moaned, hand pulling at his hair and tearing at his back, the sensations coming across as pleasurable. Your words were all he needed to send him to his own end, thrusting deep as he filled you with his synthetic seed, each spasm making you take more of him. Connor rested against you, feeling your fingers run through his hair. When he went to move so you wouldn't suffer under his weight any longer, you held him in place.

"I like how you feel. It's comforting." He looked up to you, seeing your content smile and sparkling eyes. At that moment, he realized he wanted to see that look every day, every moment of his existence. 

"I love you, " he spoke, in amazement, and when he heard you murmur them back as you started to drift off, he knew that he would fight with everything he has to keep you in his arms, in this place you both belonged.

[elisaphoenix13]

What about a fic where Stephen is under a spell from an evil wizard? Making him "evil", and peter and tony are the only ones that can bring him back to normal , because you know, mama bear would never intentionally hurt is cub... or something like that ?

A Gut Feeling

He noticed something was wrong the moment Stephen came back home via a portal. Actually, Peter was halfway to his feet when the hairs on the back of his neck stood up and he watched in utter confusion as the sorcerer ignored him and walked into the kitchen. Usually, if the teen is the same room that Stephen portals home to, the man will wait for him to approach him and welcome the doctor home with a hug. Even if he had a really bad day. Those he definitely waited for Peter’s hugs because it made his day just a little bit better.

Stephen ignored him this time.

He never did that. In fact, he would have to be dead, dying, or unconscious to ignore Peter, and even if he was unconscious, the teen was relatively positive the sorcerer was astral projecting.

While being ignored was weird, his spidey-senses going off around Stephen was much weirder. Maybe the sorcerer wasn’t out of danger? Peter looks around but his senses kept screaming at him, the intensity growing with each step he took into the kitchen. It was too late when he finally realized Stephen was the danger. Too late because the idea that his pseudo-mom would ever hurt him was preposterous.

But he was. Stephen had glared at him when he entered the kitchen, and then tightly conjured red bands around Peter’s neck when he opened his mouth to greet the sorcerer. The teen’s eyes widen as he struggles with the magical binding and the Sorcerer Supreme sighs with annoyance.

“I thought maybe you would take a hint. That I didn’t want to be bothered…but I guess I gave you too much credit.”

Peter’s vision begins to spot and he gasps for breath when the bands tighten, and then they finally loosen when Stephen releases his end, sending Peter to his knees. He sucks in precious air as the sorcerer shuffles around the kitchen to make tea, and when the spots finally fade, Peter scrambles to his feet and escapes to his room.

Maybe he was being too clingy and Stephen had tried to kindly tell him to back off before? That would explain why he got so violent. Peter was pretty bad about reading someone’s body language. It could also be that parenting Peter was too much of a hassle and he was done with it. He was technically only Tony’s even though they were married, and Peter couldn’t really blame him. Who would want a clingy, mutant teenager for a son?

The train of thought turned into a dangerous one.

What if Stephen told Tony to get rid of Peter?

The teen curls up into a ball on his bed and shakes his head. No, Stephen was just having a bad day. One where even Peter’s hugs wouldn’t make things better, as the sorcerer claimed. He would just need to give Stephen his space and hope that Tony figured out what was going on and help make things better.

He laid in his bed for hours. His room slowly darkening as the sun set until only the city lights dully lit his room. Peter did eventually move to his desk to work on his homework, and was only a little surprised when he checked the time halfway through his chemistry homework and found that it was past nine. No one got him for dinner.

His stomach growls at the thought of food and he bites his lip as he glances at his closed bedroom door. Maybe enough time had passed for Stephen to relax that he could grab something to eat? He didn’t want to stress him out more. It was probably late enough that his parents would be watching tv in the living room and the kitchen would be open.

With that thought, Peter puts his pen down and quietly slips out of his room and down the hall into the kitchen. He found Tony sitting at the table with leftovers from last night and reading something on his phone, and Peter opens the fridge to see if there was leftover leftovers.

“What the hell?!”

Peter looks over at Tony and finds the man glaring in his general direction. Was he in a bad mood too? “I’m just getting something to eat.”

“Did that happen on patrol?”

Patrol? Did Stephen tell Tony he was on patrol and that’s why no one got him for dinner? Or maybe the fact that Tony was eating leftovers was why. It must have been a ‘fend for yourself’ night.

“Uh…what?” Peter jumps when Tony stands and approaches him and the elder grabs his chin and tilts his head to the side.

“There are bruises on your neck. Who did that?”

Bruises? Peter clears his throat and gently bats his father’s hand away to heat up the food he pulled out of the fridge. Tony must not know what happened earlier, and if he was right, Stephen took advantage of his silence and took the opportunity to place the blame on criminals. Just thinking that felt wrong to Peter. First Stephen strangled the teen then lied to Tony.

Something wasn’t right.

“Just your typical lowlife. I’m alright. It’ll heal in a couple of hours.” Peter lies.

Tony frowns. “Maybe you should let Mama Bear look at that.”

It felt like the man had thrown ice water at him. It didn’t take much to identify the feeling as fear. He was actually afraid of Stephen. “No. It’s okay. I’m breathing fine and it doesn’t hurt.”

The billionaire looked unconvinced but nodded. “Alright. Just…take it easy. Eat and head to bed.”

“Okay.”

Tony affectionately ruffles his hair and returns to the table to finish his leftover casserole, leaving Peter to finish putting together a simple sandwich. The teen joins the mechanic at the table temporarily, and when Tony finishes he throws his dishes into the dishwasher and heads to bed with a 'good night’ over his shoulder. He may be going to bed, but he wasn’t going to sleep anytime soon. Stephen sort of made it a thing that if Tony was going to stay up, to at least lay in bed with a Starkpad so he was at least next to the sorcerer while he slept. That little rule was helping Tony have somewhat of a more decent sleep schedule.

Peter heads to bed as promised after he finishes his sandwich, with just a few minutes to finish his homework, and despite his interesting (terrifying) day, he fell asleep pretty quickly. He had his usual nightmares, but this was one of the times he was aware it was a nightmare. So the heavy feeling on his chest, and the difficulty breathing wasn’t as panic inducing as they normally were. Peter discovered that if he relaxed in the nightmares he was aware of, he either woke up faster or the dream changed to something more pleasant.

He woke up…but he found himself in another nightmare. One he would rather replace with his dreams of being crushed by a building over and over again, because what he woke up to was horrifying.

He really was having difficulting breathing because Stephen was standing over him and strangling him again.

Every part of him was screaming that something wasn’t right. This was not the sorcerer that was always so gentle with him, that was sometimes annoyingly overprotective of him. No. This Stephen was angry. His eyes, which always held love and fondness for him was filled with resentment and hostility.

Peter just didn’t know why.

“W-Why?” He croaks out when he pries surprisingly strong hands away enough to talk.

“It won’t matter in a minute.”

The teen chokes on a whimper when Stephen tightens his grip, and as his vision began to spot again and when confusion was about to set in, he realized that the hands at his throat weren’t scarred. They were strong though so Peter could only guess the sorcerer was focusing his magic into his hands. While Peter would have been strong enough to throw him off, Stephen had the element of surprise and the teen was already too weak to do much of anything.

Just when he thought it was the end though, he faintly recognized the sound of a portal forming, and Stephen was pulled away. Peter gasps loudly and holds a hand up to his released neck and watches through blurred vision as Stephen is punched and Levi wraps itself around the sorcerer’s arms after forcing them against his sides.

“You won’t kill me.” Stephen snarls.

The responding voice had Peter looking toward his savior. “You hurt mine. I don’t know what happened in your dimension for you to do what you did,” this was around the time that Peter finally recognized a second Stephen, and the man looked both enraged and devastated. “But I have no qualms against killing myself to keep my son safe.”

Peter’s vision clears a little more as Levi unravels itself from the wrong Stephen, who gets thrown through a portal, and the remaining Stephen turns to the ailing teen. He approaches him slowly, the teen recoiling just a bit when the sorcerer reaches out, and gently cups Peter’s cheek. His senses, for the first time all day, were silent. This was the Stephen he knew. His familiar scent (something the other Stephen didn’t have but Peter didn’t process it), his gentle shaking touch (definitely amplified by fear), and kind eyes filled with worry and a bit of devastation still there.

“Mom.”

That was all the other man needed before Peter was pulled into a tight embrace. He could feel the other man trembling when his face was quickly pressed into Stephen’s collarbone. Sure, Peter was scared when he woke up to being strangled, but he could tell something was bothering the doctor.

“I am so sorry. A rogue sorcerer managed to switch me with an alternate version of myself without my knowledge. It took me getting to the tower in that dimension to realize something was wrong.”

Well that already explained a lot. An alternative version of his Stephen would be messed up.

“It’s okay. You got here just in time. I’ll be okay.”

Stephen holds him tighter. “Barely. Peter…you were dead in that reality. He killed you and apparently told that Tony that it happened during your patrol.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. I can’t think of anything that would turn me into that monster. I was already coming back as soon as I found out though. When I did…” Stephen’s breath hitches.

They sat there in silence, Stephen’s grip on him unwavering, until Peter finally manages to get them both laying down. The doctor lays down without a fuss, using magic to change his clothes, and directing Levi to a corner of the room. They both definitely needed the validation that the other was either okay or real, and Peter wasn’t about to complain. In the back of his mind, he was still a little afraid that this was another dream, that the other Stephen had choked him out of consciousness, but then the man next to him clung onto him again once they got comfortable.

Being shoved into a world where someone he vowed to protect with his life was dead because of him (although indirectly) shook Stephen to his core. Peter was considerate and wore his heart on his sleeve, it kind of made the sorcerer wonder what caused so much hate in his alternate self.

“Your father doesn’t know.” It wasn’t a question. If Tony knew, the other Stephen would have been dead.

“He thinks I got hurt on patrol.”

Stephen swears under his breath. “I’m sorry cub…so sorry you had to go through that. I’m surprised you haven’t thrown me out yet.”

“My senses went off around him. I’m okay now though. He didn’t have all the small things that you do, so I know for a fact that I’m safe again.” He pauses for a few seconds. “I don’t blame you by the way. I’m sure you’re thinking about the what ifs and I just wanted you to know that.”

Peter was far too good for this world.

Any world really.

“Love you Mom.” Peter says after a few minutes of quiet.

“…I love you too Spiderling.” Stephen whispers.

It wasn’t guilt that kept the sorcerer up that night. It was pure unadulterated fear. Fear that one of the most important people in his life would be taken away if he closed his eyes.

So he asked Karen to turn on the tv to a quiet setting when Peter eventually fell asleep. It helped distract him from everything but his thoughts of having Friday delete any and all footage of the other Stephen harming Peter. Just thinking about it made him sick. He couldn’t see it again, and definitely wouldn’t let Tony either.