#like I won’t see them till school next week

[betty-talks]

Post-vacation depression actually hits so hard.

[nanivinsmoke]

❥ messy on a haystack

❥ dbf!logan x fem!reader

having a crush on an older man, your dad’s best friend , was something you never expected.

❥ tags: age gap (but it makes sense), based off of origins wolverine, reader is thick asf (country booty duhh), explicit language, creaming, squirting, breeding kink, pussy drunk logan, mutant awakening, semi-plot—needed him to fuck us asap, logan is a little pervy…

note: up next, fantasize. wc: 2.8k

your dad left the farm’s care in your hands this week, while he took a trip back to his hometown to check on his parents—your grandparents. which means that you were in charge of everything. from the animals, to the wood the men chopped, to the pay and the workers; you were in charge of it all. including him.

logan had known your father for a while, meeting him a few months after you left for college and that was practically six years ago. during that time, logan practically ran the farm with your father—he was his right hand man. everything was running smoothly, the farm had been booming for years. and then your father got sick, changing everything.

people found out about your father’s sickness and tried to get him sell. logan would scare them away most of the time, telling them to fuck off, but then the stress of running the farm started to jeopardize his health even more. so, logan found your number stashed in your father’s office—your dad’s too stubborn and old school to get a cellphone—and gave you a call. you caught the next flight out.

the moment you stepped on the dirt paved roads, everything seemed to perk back up. especially your old man. but, when logan laid eyes on you, he was finally able to see what you really looked like, (your dad kept old photos of you in his office) and he was amazed. you were gorgeous, prettiest lil thing he’d ever seen.

those deep blue flare jeans you wore, hugged you tighter than a grandma during holidays. and he never thought he was an ass man till he seen yours and how it sat in your jeans. and don’t get him started on how you filled out your the cropped white beater—fuck he sounded like a perv. but, it’s been a long time since he thought about a woman like that; and you were everything and then some.

after greeting your dad and explaining to him why you were here, you finally met the mysterious man who called you—and let’s just say he caught your eyes too. he was handsome, the rugged look he adorned was incredibly sexy and the way he would look at you; had your panties wet every night. if someone would hear your thoughts right now, they’d call you weird and tell you that he was old enough to be your father—but thank goodness he was not.

—

“time for lunch boys!” you yelled out to the men hard at work, watching them throw down their things and separate—happy to finally stop working and chow down. you watched as logan sauntered over towards you, standing on the porch; waiting for him to join you for lunch. “hi logan.”

“hey princess, what’s for lunch?” you blushed at the nickname and walked with him to the kitchen, where you had practically went all out. you made a big ole southern meal. you loved cooking, it was your love language. and he loved the meals you’d make.

the two of you sat down and began passing around the various dishes of food you had made, before he sparked up a conversation. “your dad left today, right? what day did he say he’ll be back?” his eyes locked onto yours as he picked the chicken you made, munching on it while he spoke.

“yeah and he won’t be back until…next monday.” he nodded and smirked, tossing back some more of the home cooked food you made. “so then i got you all to myself then?” you nearly choked on your mashed potatoes, eyes wide when you saw him smirking. there was no denying that you heard him, loud and clear.

just as you were about to respond, the kitchen timer went off—signaling that it was time to go back to work. you pouted and he hurried up to scarf down the glass of water beside his food before getting up and leaning over to kiss your forehead, “later princess. I’ll be back tonight.” you watched him leave, heart heavy with love and your mind going crazy with what happened at the table.

you spent the next few hours at the front office, crunching numbers and overseeing where the next shipment of wood was going. the sun going down and slipping past the horizon, made the workers excited as they all wrapped up their work and lined up to clock out. you watched from the porch, as they scanned their manilla colored time cards in front of the clock and headed home.

logan was the last one and when he clocked out, he made his way over towards you. his flannel was torn to shreds and his beater that made his toned torso stick out, was covered in dirt; showing how hard his day went. but all in all, he was still sexy, even when covered in dirt.

“logan~” your voice mimicked a siren, trying to seduce a sailor in by the sexy tone of their voice, while your eyes were low and lidded. he could feel himself grown in his pants from the sound of your voice, his desire for you growing by the second.

“need sumn’, princess?” his voice made you melt and you pressed your thighs together. “shower’s free and i made your bed. ooh, there’s leftovers in the fridge if you’re still hungry!” you smiled at him, trying to suppress a moan when his natural scent hit your nostrils. the smell of woods, hours old cologne and hard work, had your panties wet.

he nodded his head, licking his lips as his eyes traveled down to your thick thighs that were no longer being hidden by denim—before fixtating them back onto your own. “might have to marry ya’ one day.” he commented, planting a kiss on your forehead, before stepping into the house.

letting out a moan, you bit your lip and accepted the tingling sensation that throbbed down below. oh you needed him bad.

logan enjoyed the shower’s hot steaming waters, easing the tension in his muscles and helping him clear his brain. well at least he tried to, his head was clouded with thoughts of you. his best friend’s daughter.

once he stepped out of the shower and put on something comfy, he went down to the kitchen hoping to find you there, however much to his dismay you weren’t. he opened the fridge and pulled out a beer. just as he was about to put it his lips, he heard you let out a distressed scream and he took off running.

he could see you in front of the barn doors being harassed by the men that came a month ago, whom tried to get your dad to sell his land. one had a grip on your hair while the other stood in front, taunting you. logan practically pounced on them and his claws unsheathed, slicing them men up.

you back away and watched as they fought, blood splattering everywhere—but that’s not what worried you. what made you worry was when both of the men began to overpower logan—you had to help him. you realized there were some tools in the barn and as you moved to get, you appeared inside in the blink of an eye; grabbing a shovel before appearing right behind the fighting men again.

your mind was pushing out a million thoughts about what just happened, but you didn’t have time to focus on them right now; you had to save him. you swung with all of your might, knocking the men across the field and off of logan. their bodies crashed into other, giving logan ample enough time to pounce on them and fuck them up.

“get in the barn!” he yelled out, slicing them to bits and pieces—and just like before, you appeared in the barn.

–—

you were in there for quite a while, pacing back and forth; wondering what the hell was going on out there. the sounds of his grunting and the slicing of their skin could no longer be heard. you didn’t care what happened to them, they deserved hell or worse, all you cared about was logan.

the doors to the barn creaked open and you eyed it, but you relaxed when you saw him stomping in. your eyes watered at his bloody torso and you sprinted over to him, engulfing him in a hug. “baby, i was so worried about you!”

that nickname rolled off your tongue and he caught it, pulling you back to look at your face. he held you by your chin, puffing up your cheeks, before kissing your soft plump lips—while you gladly accepted his. the kiss was hot and a little sloppy. and when he pulled away from you, a trail spit following.

“been wanting to do that for awhile now. go ahead and take those off, you won’t be needing them,” he tugged on the hem of your shorts and you obliged. you quickly stripped them off along with your sunset colored thong, a web of your essence following. you were beyond soaked and he knew the moment he appeared in the barn, he could smell it.

you sat on a nearby haystack, spreading your legs and your slick coated lips, rubbing your sensitive little love bud. “please logan, wan’ you so bad.”

the lust that had built up over time, had overflowed and erupted; causing a change within you. and he loved it.

he watched with a lust filled glint in his eyes, his cock growing in his sweatpants as he watched you play with your pretty pussy—his desire and longing for you growing by the second. “think you can handle it, princess?” he asked and you nodded, slipping a finger in your aching hole; a sweet mewl leaving your lips.

he then replaced his finger with his fat leaky tip, pressing it right at your entrance; causing you to clamp down on nothing. he grunted and pushed through, stretching you open bit by bit; making you gasp and tear prick at the corner of your eyes.

“ ‘s too big—fuck!” that was an understatement. logan was huge, thick even. he was painfully big, but that’s exactly what you wanted. to be fucked dumb by his big fat painful cock.

“i know baby, but you can take it. yeah? —atta girl” he coached, splitting your cunt open as he pushed through, his tips inches away from kissing your cervix. logan leaned down and kissed away your tears, his cock pressing deep inside of you. he wiggled his hips around, helping you get used to his size and pressing his thumb to your clit; causing you to shudder.

the more he rubbed and he moved, the less pain you felt—and soon you were taking him so well. his cock was coated in your slick, a ring of white started form around his base as he plunged in and out of your wetness. logan watched your tits bounce out of your top with lidded eyes and the animal in him couldn’t help it anymore. his claws unsheathed and wrapped your top open—shredding it completely and freeing your jiggly mounds.

“so fucking—pretty. fuck, my pretty girl taking me so well!” his praises had you gushing all over him, clamping down on him as you started to see specks of white. you had never had an orgasm like this nor have you ever came so quickly before. none of the boys in college made you cum like this. but, that was the difference between logan and them. they were boys and he was a man.

“please don’t stop. please~” you begged, pulling him close while your orgasm flowed out of you. he grunted in your ear and your cunt weeped at the noise, his hips never faltering. “wasn’t planning on it sweetheart.” he moved his head down and took one of your hard nipples into his mouth, sucking on it like he was trying to pull milk from it.

you whined and bucked your hips up to match his thrusts, your clit pressing into him—adding more pleasure to your fucked out body.

you clung to him with each powerful thrust, his hips spanking your ass making a clapping sound erupt through the barn; accompanying your series of moans. your next orgasm approached by the minute, but this one felt different and you lowered your hips trying to back away.

“wait—wait, feels like m’gonna pee—“ but he didn’t budge, he stayed inside of your pussy—still drilling your cunt stilly—and let your nipple go with a pop; a web of saliva followed after him.

“just let go, trust me baby.” he smirked and gripped your hips, hazel eyes dancing over yours. you watched the dog tags around his neck jump with each pump, sending you straight to nirvana. your body shook as you let go, this orgasm different from your last; it was way more intense and you loved the feeling.

a clear stream of liquid splash out of you and onto his low stomach, pushing him out of you—drenching the hay bale beneath you. he slapped his cock onto your sensitive clit, coating himself in your essence.

when you finally calmed down, he leaned down and kissed your lips—hunger laced in it—his hips grinding against yours. and that’s when you realized something. he was still hard. you pulled away and looked at his swollen cock, shiny with your love. “baby, you didn’t get to cum?”

he pecked your lips some more, his tip now laying onto your belly, “just wanted to get you off first. see how pretty you looked when you came on my dick.”

you practically drooled at his words, eyes glued onto his girth that laid on your tummy—small hand fisting it, causing him to growl. “come sit your pretty ass down on my dick and ride me~”.

and that’s what you did for the next couple of minutes, riding him on the hay bale where he just made you squirt for the first time. webs of your messy fluids sticking to his thighs while you bounced and grinded on him—your boobs jiggling all in his face.

logan was losing himself under you, his cock twitching with each movement. he couldn’t wait anymore. he so desperately wanted to let go inside you. wanted to see your belly swollen in a few months with his kid and fuck another one right into you.

he gripped your ass, his hips bucking upwards, emptying ropes and ropes of his cum deep inside of you—filling you to the brim with his seed.

you rolled your hips, teasing him while leaning down to kiss him—tongues melting on one another. you pulled away and bit your lip, eyeing him with desire. the way he made you feel had you wanting more and he felt the same way. “take me inside.”

—

the two of you laid on his navy blue sheets, in each other’s arms, after a few more rounds of lovemaking. you toyed with his dog tags while he stared at your pretty face, loving how you looked with the moon glowing on you.

“your dad would kill me if he came back and saw us like this.” he spoke and you looked at him and smiled—getting on top of him and laying down on his muscled body.

“nah, i don’t think so. he’ll know i'm in good hands. ill be with the guy he’s going to sell the farm to, after all.” one of his beautiful thick eyebrows raised in response and you pressed a kiss to his lips.

“read the official letter in his office, he wants to sell the farm to you. im all for it. keep you close so we can have a litter of mutant babies together—now that i am one~”.

now it was his turn to smile and kiss on you. he rubbed circles on your back and pecked more kisses to your plump lips, “you’d look so pretty having my kids, with a ring on your finger and my last name attached to yours. i could see us turning that barn into our house, waking up next to you every day…”

“you can see all of that? you sure the wolverine isn’t a clairvoyant?” you joked and he roared with laughter. you smiled at him, so happy and content with every. so happy that you had to tell him, “i love you.”

his hazel eyes with hints of green widened and his smile became wider, “i love you more, doll.”

[lunajay33]

Fated

•🪵🦅🍂🤎•

Summary: You grew up being bestfriends with Sam and Dean as your mother would usually help hunt with their dad, but when you find yourselves at college together things change, especially when Dean takes him back hunting

Pairing: Sam Winchester x f!reader

Warning: Pregnant

•Masterlist•

Ever since I was a kid I’ve had a die hard crush on Sam, whenever our parents would hunt together they’d leave the three of us in a motel room while they worked a case, it was hard not to fall for Sam he was always so kind and treated me like gold, then eventually we started going to college together both of us were outcasted by our families for doing so, we moved in together for support as we worked in our dreams

Along the way we both confessed

“Sam I know this is your place too but I don’t want you being girls home anymore”

“Why not? Are you jealous?”

“So what if I am, I can’t bare to see you with someone else Sam can’t you see how much I love you?”

And from then on we’ve been attached at the him, any chance he got his hands were placed on me lovingly, as I finished getting ready for bed I pulled on one of his shirts and a pair of sleeping shorts, quickly going to our room and jumping in next to him as I cuddle up close

“I love you Angel” he whispered as he placed a kiss to my check squeezing me closer

“And I love you, now let’s get to bed I’ve been feeling groggy all day

He shut off the lamp and he curled around me till I was completely enveloped by him, hearing the sound of his heartbeat lull me to sleep

•

I woke abruptly at the sound of a crash from downstairs, Sam awake next to me hearing the same thing

We both got our weapons and slowly made our way downstairs, covering each other incase this wasn’t just a plan human invader

Out of nowhere Sam is tackled to the floor and I’m stood there frozen, having been out of the hunting game so long I was actually scared now, before I heard a familiar laugh

“Dean what the hell are you doing here?” Sam groaned as he got up and stood back next to me holding me to his chest obviously noticing my fear

“If you aren’t a sight for sore eyes, missed you around Angel” Dean smirked looking me up and down

“Dean come on”

“Fine, dads missing, he’s been gone for a while now and won’t answer any calls”

“I can’t Dean I’ve got a life here now, I’ve got school and y/n, I can’t just leave”

“She can come too” he said as if I wasn’t even here

“It’s not just dad, it’s your parents too, they went out together” I look up at Sam worried, even if they kicked us out they were still family

“Sam…….” I whisper as he squeezes my hips

“What about school Angel?”

“It’s study break we can spare the week” he sighed in agreement and nodded at Dean, we go upstairs and pack

“I don’t you going” he says

“But I can help it’s my parents too”

“I know but I don’t want to risk your life”

“But…….i don’t wanna be alone” I confessed my fears of being on my own since I’ve always had someone around especially knowing what lurks out there

“It’ll only be a week and I’ll be right back I promise” I knew I couldn’t convince him other wise

“Okay but……call me and please be safe Sam”

“Always am” he kissed me goodbye before him and Dean were gone, the familiar sound of the Chevy impala rumbling away

•

The week went by fast and I was so excited for him to come back, there was a weird feeling around our place and I couldn’t shake it

I pick up the phone and call hoping he’ll be on the other end saying he’s right around the corner

“Hello angel” his voice was higher than usual

“Hey everything okay? Are you coming back now?”

“About that ummm….we couldn’t find them but we got a lead we’re gonna follow it”

“But sam we’ve got school and I don’t feel right, I’m scared”

“What’s a little huntress like yourself got to be scared of” Dean chimed in

“I don’t know something doesn’t feel right, it’s been weird weather lately and I feel sick, I probably sound crazy” I felt like I was going insane

“You’re not crazy, remember last time you got the stomach flu you felt the same, maybe you just have to get some rest”

“Please don’t be gone much longer I love you Sam”

“I love you too”

•

He was gone a lot longer than we both thought, it’s been 4 months now and the calls got less frequent and I felt less important and soon after he left I found out the reason I was feeling sick was because I’m pregnant, I went to the doctors and they said I was about 2 months along, now I’m 6 months, and I’m a ball of stress I didn’t have the guts to tell him over the phone how could I when we barely talked and when we did it was quick just to check up before he had to go

I sat on the couch feeling like my life was flipped upside down so quick, why did Dean have to come back, sure he was great but he took the one thing I loved away, I hear a knock at the door breaking me from my thoughts

I got up my shirt too small as I only covered half my belly and my pajamas pant low on my hips, I walk over to the door and open it seeing Sam and Dean stood there with their father behind

“You’ve finally decided to come home” I sigh, of course I’m glad he’s okay but he left me for 4 months, I stepped aside as they all came in

They came in, Dean and John plopping down on the couch as Sam stood infront of me, his mouth hung open as he looked down at my round belly

“How…..when….why didn’t you tell me” he asked as his hands caressed my belly

“How could I we’ve barely talked and I can’t just spring that information on you over the phone”

“Sammy’s been having fun at college” Dean laughs then hearing John groan

“I told you I didn’t feel right” I say not being able to resist from running my hands through his hair as he pulls me into a tight hold

“I’m so sorry, I should’ve stayed, I can’t believe we’re having a baby”

“A baby girl” I whisper as I hear him gasp pulling back to look at me

“A girl…..a little girl” his voice shock and it warmed my heart

“Congrats Sammy” Dean smiled as he came over slapping him on the shoulder encouragingly, I’m sure John would come around he was just a grump

“Next time I’m coming with you, I’ll be damned if your leaving me and our baby girl”

“I wouldn’t dream of it”

[mrs-reid-hotchner]

A lost Puppy in love

Gi-hun x best friend! reader

Summery: Y/n is deeply in love with his best friend Gi-hun, but Gi-hun can't figure out why they are following them everywhere

Word count: 901

You and Gi-hun have been friends since your second year of high school but you developed feelings for him in your last year of high school. You didn’t want to believe it, you liked a you liked your best friend. So you never told him how you felt, and then you guys went your separate ways. When you two did see each other you were inseparable but then he got married he didn’t have as much time anymore but you guys made it work, hanging out every now and then. A few years later he had his daughter you guys went from hanging out once to twice a month to once every three months but you didn’t complain he’s a dad now that was till his daughter was ten and he go divorced, you still didn’t see him that much but when you did you guys hung out together he got into gambling and start asking you for money you’d give it to him when he asked sometimes he didn’t, if you heard him and his mom were struggling you’d give him cash. He’d always say he’d pay you back but you always told him not to you just wanted to make sure they could live

Then two years ago he showed up to your door with a bag you invite him in while you guys are talking he hands you the bag, you look inside and it’s cash “what is this gi-hun?” He stayed silent for a moment than he speaks “the money i owe you” you look at him for a moment you told him he didn’t have to pay you back, but you knew how stubborn he is so you take it and hug him and he hugs you back. After that you to started hanging out once a week you don’t know why but he’s changed he’s not as childish he looks like he has a weight on his shoulders. Everytime you ask him what happened he ignores it or changes the topic so you didn’t fight it. You thought that even if he won’t tell you staying by his side will hopefully help whatever he’s going though, so for the past two years anytime he needed you, you were there you were always around recently even if he didn’t call your there daily like how it was in high school this confused him. He doesn’t understand why you wanna be near him so much, following him like a lost puppy, and his not wrong your a puppy in love again with a man you believe you’d never have but you might have a chance if he could ever see you that way

Now you guys are going to his motel the walk is quite you want so badly to hold his you let you pinky touch his then you move your hand away and try’s to start a conversation and it works you guys start talking. After you got to his motel your sitting in his room, your watching him pace back and forth in front of he’s security cameras footage he look’s the camera and sits down, you decide to talk to him see what he’s got going on in his head a thought of telling him how you feel but you push that down you then go to sit next to him to sit and smile “you ok? You look worried about something” you look at him “I’m fine just wondering things don’t worry about me” when he’s says that you know he’s lying “you don’t have to lie to me I care about you a lot more then you know and I want you to trust me even if it’s not right now” he look at you when you said that he sigh “I trust you but I can’t bring you into this I care about you and don’t want you getting hurt and I do trust you I trust you so much” you smile and lay your head on his shoulder it makes his heart flutter and that makes him confused.

After a few days he slowly realizes he has a thing for you and now that’s he’s watching you more he can tell you like him too and you have for awhile that’s why you were following him like a lost puppy. You where both sitting in your bedroom and you look over to him “wanna cuddle and play trivia like how we did when we were kids?” He nods and you guys start to cuddle while playing trivia, as you both play trivia you start jokingly hitting him as he chuckles you both look at eachother and you decide to give into your inner thoughts and kiss him it was quick and then you look at him “I’m sorry….i just really..I have feelings for you” he looks at you and your worried he’s gonna hate you and that he’s never gonna talk to you again, but then he puts his warm kinda soft hand on your face and smiles “you dork I like you too” *you both chuckle “wow we act like teenagers” you say smiling at him “you know I always wondered why you followed me like a lost puppy” he chuckles and lays you into his chest “then I guess I’m a lost puppy in love” you smile and kiss him then lay on his chest.

Tagged

@pixiepipedreams

[lonelierthanu]

Penmanship

Satoru Gojo x Gender-neutral Reader

series: incomplete

words: 3.4k

warnings: mentions of smoking; funny; meet-ugly; no mentioned female or male anatomy; no spoilers; no curses; slow build; slow to update; college au

summary: you decided you never want to see this man again and fuck the pen altogether. Well, life has other plans.

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6 part 7 …+

Your coffee splashed dramatically against the concrete wall you tossed it at. You’re pissed, to say the least, and the sugarless coffee —that you asked for extra sugar for— was your tipping point.

You were behind some bleachers that laid against the wall outside the dining hall. You’re not sure why these bleachers are here? They seem old and were probably here way before the school was renovated and they put in a huge football field across campus. The school is old so you wouldn’t be surprised if they just left it here. But right now you’re grateful they did because you’re knee deep in a tantrum, if one wants to consider it one, and this is your only sanctuary at the moment.

“Was that necessary?” Aoi asks you, after he takes a drag from his cigarette.

“I thought you said you were going to quit?” Rikki asks from beside him.

“And I thought you said you would never date Tenji,” he mumbles under his breath as he takes another drag and doesn’t bother blowing away from her direction, a courtesy he would have usually given. Rikki scowls at the side of his face.

“We’re not dating.”

“The pictures on his instagram say something different,” Aoi takes another drag.

“I was… drunk…” Rikki crosses her arms as she kicks a rock towards your direction. It lands back in its spot after bouncing off your shoe. It startled her attention towards you, like she suddenly remembered you were there.

You roll your eyes at both of them and lean against the opposite wall from them. Since you’ve known them they’ve had a weird relationship. At least in your eyes. You’ve known them for a little longer than a year and they’ve had an on and off crush on each other since the three of you met. And the two sides have never been on the same page. One person has a crush on the other, then the other gets feelings when the other person loses feelings . It’s a weird dynamic that you wish they’d get over already.

But a part of you wants it to stay this way, so your friendship never changes. But you know that one day this weird game of tug of war will come to an end and it’ll either end in peace, or someone in the mud.

“To answer your question Aoi, yes. That was completely necessary,” You say to break the silence. Rikki jumps at the opportunity to change the subject and cut through the tension. She comes to lean next to you.

“What’s got your panties in a twist anyway?”

“Remember that creepster that thought I was hitting on him for a week?” Rikki tries to hold back her laugh. She fails. You had told her about what happened the next morning after the incident on Saturday. Despite her hangover she found the misunderstanding hilarious. Laughing while saying ‘oh my god, that is so something he would do!’ And you ended up filling Aoi in during one of your class periods you shared with him a couple hours ago.

“Yeah,” she answers, failing to hide her smile.

“Well my professor paired us up for a group project,” you cross your arms.

“At the end of the semester?” Aoi asks as he stomps on his cigarette to put it out, “How does she expect you to get a project done during the week of exams?”

“No, starting next semester is when we start the project. The worst part is, we’ll be working on it ‘till February,” You groaned into your hands, covering your face with them.

“I’m sure it won’t be that bad,” Rikki tries to console you by putting a hand on your shoulder. You put your hands down to glare at her.

“Don’t jinx me,” Rikki laughs at you. Aoi smirks, also finding this amusing. “And wipe that smug look off your face,” you point a finger directly in Aoi’s face. He pushes your hand out of the way and rolls his eyes at you, still smug.

You stuff your hands into your jacket pockets, trying to fight off the cold. You’re not looking forward to next semester, to say the least, and when you heard the devastating news of Creepster being your project partner you immediately started thinking of ways to get out of it.

Because since that Saturday you had heard no word of this man until that following Monday. He came in late, like usual, but before he showed up your professor had given the whole spiel about the details of the new project the class would be working on. Everyone picked their own partner but you since there was an odd number of students in the class. Then Creepster walked in.

She told him you’d be his partner and he turned his head to look at you while she vaguely explained the project to him. Your body turned cold when his smirk grew wider. Like he was looking forward to this. The professor dismissed him to his seat saying you could explain in more detail.

When he sat down he faced you, completely ignoring the rest of the professor’s lecture. He leaned his head on his hand, smirk still present on his face. You refused to look at him and continued looking forward.

“Hey partner,” you internally recoiled. He sensed your unease and with the new bout of knowledge that this guy thinks you have some sort of crush on him, or just wanna get in his pants, he probably took your unease for nervousness. The thought alone pissed you off.

He barely got two words out of you in that class, which was yesterday, and today was no better. Though somehow you ended up agreeing to go to his house (his real house) to outline and plan the beginning of the project to finish it faster after the break. It was his idea and it honestly shocked you to hear him suggest a genuine responsible plan. Not gonna lie, you definitely thought the word “ responsible “ didn’t exist within his vocabulary.

You only mildly cared about this idea. You mostly agreed to do so you can finally get that damn pen back before you go on break. You’ll be damned if you go home empty handed when you confidently told your niece you’d bring it back.

“So. What are you gonna do?” Aoi asks, putting his hands into his jacket pockets as well.

“Get my pen back,” you answer, then your phone rings before you can look at his confused expression. It’s your alarm to go to your last class. You leave them to ruminate in their awkward tension.

Creepster told you he’d pick you up after school to take you to his house. You were definitely uncomfortable with the idea of being alone in a car with this man, but you don’t have money for a ride right now, Rikki went to work today, and it beats walking an hour and a half to his place.

You waited at the school's gate for fifteen minutes and was about to text him when you remembered you don't have his number. But before you could stress over that fact, a shiny black Lexus pulled up in front of you. The driver window lowered revealing a strange man at the wheel. He said your name and asked if you were who you were. You didn’t answer at first but then Creepster moved into your line of vision in the passenger seat.

“Get in loser,” he laughed at his own reference, then smiled at you. You rolled your eyes and opened the door to the back seat.

The drive was fairly short, probably a little shorter than ten minutes, and the drive was not silent. But you were glad for that, because if it weren’t for the surprisingly good tunes being blasted through the speakers, you know your awkward uncomfortable air would have permeated through the windows for the other drivers on the road to feel. You’re also glad that you aren’t alone with this guy. That would have been a whole different situation for you.

When you pull up to his house you physically feel the hinges connecting your jaw to your skull unclick. You gawk at the state of his house while you pick your jaw up off the car floor.

His house is fucking huge.

And this is his actual house. You have half a mind to confirm that.

When you head inside you have to put in extra effort to keep your eyes from bulging out of their sockets. It’s just as beautiful on the inside as it is on the outside. The difference between this and the frat house is vast.

For starters, it’s furnished way better. Which makes you think he definitely didn’t do it himself. It’s clean, which you weren’t expecting, and it smells nice. Another thing you weren’t expecting but desperately hoping for.

“So, should we get started?” Creepster says from behind you. It startles you how close he is. You jump at least a foot away before turning to him.

“Yeah,” you say, calmer than your heart is beating. He guides you to his dining room where a large circular table resides next to a beautiful huge island with high bar stools tucked into it and a sink in the middle. The dining area is surrounded by windows, letting copious amounts of natural sunlight in. The room is brightly lit without any lights being on. It’s impressive. This is the type of room you’d save in a pinterest board.

He pulls out a chair for you to sit on, but the way he smiles at you after pisses you off so you sit in the chair next to it. He seems amused by this, and chuckles fondly.

“I’m gonna go grab my laptop, I'll be right back. Don’t go anywhere,” he jokes. You don’t laugh, but he walks away without seeing if you do or not. You see him walk through an alcove in the kitchen and go to the right. Once you know he’s gone you look more thoroughly at your surroundings. You see a set of grandiose stairs in the living room by the entry. And from where you’re seated you can see two halls up there and a third one could exist but it’s too high to tell. You already know you’d get lost trying to walk through here. Your family would have to send a search team to find you.

Your eyes shift over to see grand imposing glass doors that lead to a pool, there could be more land out there but you can’t tell from where you’re sitting. But from how huge the estate is from when you pulled up you already know the backyard is huge. You don’t see any other doors around besides the one in the kitchen, but you just assume that’s a broom closet or a bathroom or something.

Just from looking around you’ve lost a glimmer of hope of finding this pen. It’d be like trying to find a needle in a haystack. You’re already preparing the apology to your niece in your head.

“You want a tour?” You whip your head around to see Houdini putting his laptop and bag onto the table and pulling a chair out across from you.

“No,” you answer immediately because the thought of him knowing you’re impressed by his home makes you wanna scratch at your skin. But after a quick second you realize that that could’ve been your chance to find the pen. You curse at yourself. He sits down and opens his laptop. You take yours out from your bag and place it on the table as well.

You want to just open your mouth and ask for the pen again, but a part of you is scared he’ll think you're trying to hit on him again. You agreed to come to his house so that could definitely send the wrong message in this guy’s delusional brain.

“Can I get your notes on the project so far?” He asks without looking up from his laptop. You take your notebook out of your bag and slide it across the table. He shares a doc with you before opening it. So, he really is going to work on this project. A part of you thought this was another ruse to sleep with you. To say you’re relieved is an understatement.

The next half hour goes by with him asking you yes or no questions, finding resources to cite from, quotes, studies, creating the powerpoint and typing in each slide what each should consist of, and starting a rough draft for the essay you’re meant to write. Everything is going pretty smoothly and you’re proud of the progress you’ve made in such a short time. You’re also pleasantly surprised by Herc-Houdini’s work ethic. You’re starting to think he might not be that bad.

And honestly, when you think about the situation, you can kind of see how he misunderstood. It may seem a little absurd to you that asking for a pen correlates to ‘please sleep with me’, but if there are people doing weirder things to get him to sleep with them, then you kind of understand. You’re still not very keen on him though. His reputation and the crowd he’s associated with just puts you off.

Hercules groans loudly as he stretches his arms. The muscles in them tense and show off the gains he’s worked for. A small part of you thinks that he wore that shirt on purpose, but when he’s relaxed he looks as skinny and lanky as always.

I’ll be right back,” he tells you before getting up and heading for that same alcove, going to the left. You vaguely notice him going in a different direction than before and go back to doing your work. You almost jolt with the realization that you could look around and find the pen while he’s gone.

Frankly, this could be a terrible idea. You don’t know what he’s doing so he could be back any moment. You could say you were looking for a bathroom, but then you could’ve just asked when he got back. You’re already up and walking while thinking of the logistics of this plan. It’s stupid, you know, but what if you find the pen? It seems like a great risk to reward ratio to you.

Knowing Sherlock went to the left you check there first once you’ve met the alcove, then dash to the right and go through the first door you see. Unfortunately, you’re met with a bathroom so your excuse has now flown out the window. You could just play dumb.

Before you exit, you listen to the door, then slowly open it to peek outside. Still nothing, so you leave, closing the door behind you before going to the next one. You do this three more times. You were met with two closets and a study, that you did search just in case. When you see the end of the hall you start to feel disappointed, but then you realize there’s a sharp corner. When you turn it, you see a narrow set of stairs.

At this point, you know that you took entirely too long and that Houdini has most likely gone back to the table and realized you were gone. Taking these stairs will make your search even longer and there’s no plausible explanation you could give that’ll justify you snooping around this guy’s house.

You give yourself three seconds to think it over.

Fuck it.

You’re justifying the irrationality of your actions to yourself as you trudge up the stairs, also pretending that the consequences that will undoubtedly follow won’t be that bad. But really? What’s the worst that could happen? He bans you from his home? No biggie. If you find this pen, you don’t plan on coming back anyway.

Or maybe he’ll hate you and think you’re extremely unmannered. Fine by you, then the feeling of dislike will be mutual and he’ll finally leave you alone forever.

Or maybe he’ll lie to his “clique” that you’re a thief and only agreed to do a project with him so you could slither your way into his house and they all make fun of you for the duration of your college career which will then spiral into more awful rumors and you’ll be branded an outcast and be ridiculed so horrendously that not even your friends will want to be around you…

…Or maybe you’re overthinking it entirely and it’ll all be perfectly fine.

As you come to a stop at the top of the stairs you realize that there were three halls up here. You don’t dare check the view below in fear that Sherlock will see you. So, you creep along the wall that you hope isn’t in view from down stairs and bolt for the nearest hallway. Heart beat pumping a million beats per second.

You open the first door, a closet. A second door, a very small bedroom with nothing but a bed and a lonely side table. A third door, a much bigger room with a pretty sweet gaming setup, though it looks unfinished.

The end of the hall, a large room that’s akin to a master bedroom, a bathroom and balcony included. The room isn’t quite messy, but it does appear to be lived in. The bed unmade, a dresser drawer left open, a couple clothing items on the floor near the hamper, and miscellaneous items strewn about in flat surfaces.

A pair of huge, round, dark sunglasses sitting on top of the dresser tell you exactly whose room you’ve stumbled into.

Once you’ve realized, a moment of doubt passes through you. What if he finds you here? But as quickly as it came, it passed. You’ve made it this far unnoticed, what’s one more minute.

A quick glance tells you that the pen isn’t lying about so you begin your search. You only look in places it could possibly be and refrain from his dressers. You check random bags that were in his extraordinarily large walk-in closet. You check in hoodie and pants pockets even. You leave the closet with a fraction less of hope and check under his bed. Still Nothing. You have half a mind to check his dirty clothes but decide to check his bedside drawers before getting that desperate.

It’s when you’re about to wiggle yourself from under Houdini’s bed that you hear it.

“Has anyone ever told you it’s rude to snoop?”

You jolt so hard you hit your head on the bed frame while trying to frantically wiggle free. When you do, you're met with that same smirk. Like he’s amused to find you this way. He walks towards you from the door frame, you unconsciously backup and bump against the side table. He stops right in front of you and bends down slightly to tower over you, his face slightly shrouded in darkness.

“If you wanted a tour you could have just said so,” he drawls deeply, in a quiet tone that sends a shiver down your spine.

“No, I-“ he chuckles.

“You, what? hm?” he takes one of his hands out of his pockets to reveal your pen, “You we’re looking for this?” Your eyes widen for a fraction of a second before a glare marks its position on your face. Was he making fun of you?

“Give it to me,” you try to reach for it, but he effortlessly dodges out of the way. He patronizingly waves a finger at you.

“Ah, ah, ah,” he taunts, “I can’t just give it to you now,” irritation bubbles within you.

“And why the hell not?”

“Because. You pranced around my house uninvited and invaded my privacy,” You stand up, refusing to be looked down upon, even though standing up he’s still taller than you.

“So? Then what do you want?” He hums to your question and puts the end of the pen on his chin as he contemplates.

“How much are you willing to do for this pen?” You raise a judgmental eyebrow at him. “Of course nothing drastic,” he adds, “but how far are you willing to go?”

“Well, if i’m willing to stifle through a man’s house like some kind of thief then I guess you can gauge it yourself,” He smiles at that. He lowers his glasses and you see his crystal blue eyes in person for the first time. You’re almost enraptured by them until he opens his mouth.

“Date me.”

(･ω<)☆

when i tell you i didn’t know what the fuck to write 💀last chapter i realized that is abt to be a s l o w b u r n and i’m right there along with you guys wondering what’s abt to happen next 😭 hopefully chapter 5 won’t take 4 months this time 🙃

★prev next ☆

[mrsjobarnes]

Not the Only Cowboy - Chapter 5

Summary: Jake had never been the type of guy to fall first, maybe you’ll be the one to change that. 

A/N~ Sorry this took so long guys, I had writer's block, and then uni started and it got put on the back burner! However, I’m back and ready to finish this story! Also a huge Thank you to @angel-0f-verdun for helping me with this!

Jake Sersin x Nurse!reader 

Word count: 1,172

Warning: Abuse, Angst, Violence 

Likes & comments are welcome! 

Please do not steal my work! 

Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

2 weeks. It took you two weeks for you to leave the guest room. You requested time off and were granted 2 weeks but after that, you’d have to go back, back to the place that no longer felt safe since Blake had found you. 

He had crossed the country to find you, he didn’t care about the restraining order or that you had only packed the essentials and moved. No, you were still his, his to control, his to break, his to own till death, and even after that. You were his baby, his honey, his sugar, and he needs you back home. Your love hasn't always been like this. He was your college sweetheart, you were his tutor. His smart, kind, patient, and outgoing Y/N/N. After he graduated he went into the Navy to be a navigator and you continued your nursing school. Once you had graduated you became a civilian nurse serving on base. It was picture-perfect if you ignored the screaming matches and the occasional pushing and shoving. It didn't get bad until you were treating some of the naval men and he saw them flirting with you. 

That's when the abuse started, he’d beat you within an inch of your life in places no one could see. He’d even threaten to shoot and kill you if you ran away. No one noticed till you were wearing long sleeves in a Virginia July. That's when your charge nurse Maggie asked you. You tried to lie but the 55-year-old saw right through you. She slipped a paper in your locker later that night with several phone numbers to call for help. You knew that she was just looking out for you but, at the moment you felt hurt and angry. Thankfully, the calm part of you kept that note and hid it in your locker. After six months of plotting with Maggie, the clouds parted and Blake was given orders to be deployed for 2 months. You took that as your chance to run. After saying your goodbyes, you sold your car and changed your phone and phone number, opened up a new bank account and purchased a plane ticket to your new haven.  

It was your haven until he showed up. Destroying all you had built up, all of the work you’d put into making this place feel like a safe place had just been squashed by him. So here you are lying in Phoenix’s guest room, scared he’ll break through the second-story windows or the door.  He’d threatened to kill you before who’s to say he won’t kill Phoenix to get to you? You need to start over again, how far would you go this time? Coast hopping didn’t work, maybe you needed to go to a northern state, he did hate the cold. Maybe in a small town in Montana, get a job at a hospital this time. Yes, that should work. You’ll just choose the smallest town possible, maybe ditch your phone and switch to a pager, they still had those right? You hear a knock at the front door. Your blood runs ice cold, and quickly you run into the ensuite bathroom and lock the door. 

“Hey, Y/N it’s just me,” says Phoenix. “I bought groceries, what do you want for dinner?” she asks from the kitchen. You slowly exit the bathroom and start to head to the door, placing your hand on the handle you stop. Maybe you should just run at night and just take what you had here, grab your car, withdraw most of your money from the bank and run. By not telling anyone it would keep them safe right? Turning around, you text Phoenix that you’re not hungry and ask if she is going out tonight. She replies that she is, unless you want to talk. You tell her to enjoy her night and start researching on a private browser about where to go, maybe Sidney, Montana. It seemed small enough that no one would think to look there, now to look at apartments. After googling for about 30 minutes, Phoenix shouts that she’s leaving. Walking over to the window you peer out waiting till she leaves. Once the coast was clear you quickly started packing a bag and making a mental checklist of what you needed to do. 

Pack 

Shower 

get food

Leave a note 

Call Uber to the base 

Bank and gas 

— 

25 minutes had passed and all you needed to do was get food and gas then stop at the bank, but first, you needed to get your car.  You bring all of your things to the door. When all of a sudden you hear someone knocking at the front door. “Fuck” you whisper under your breath. Quietly you grab a kitchen knife and look through the peephole. When you are met with the most perfect green eyes. It was just Jake, you sigh and put the knife down. “Go away Jake,” you say through the door.

“Phoenix gave me a key, I’m coming in,” he asks. 

“No, go away,” you say. He doesn’t listen and slowly enters the apartment. You grab the knife and point it at him, enraged he didn’t listen. “I said don’t come in Jake,” you say, clenching the knife for dear life. As he crosses the threshold, the two of you make eye contact. He has never seen someone so broken and scared, it breaks his heart.  

“Hey Y/N” he says slowly approaching, you clench the knife trying to push back the fear. It's Jake, he’s not going to hurt you, but you thought the same thing of Blake. How could you have been so stupid? “Y/N Imma need you to put the knife down darling, I just want to talk okay?” he said, itching closer to you. 

“Jake please leave, I don't want to talk. I just want to be left alone” 

“No it looks like you're trying to run” he says pointing to the suitcase and backpack next to the door”. 

“Why does it matter if I do? I have only brought trouble into the team's life. I've taken over Phoenix house and probably have a write-up at work for causing a scene. So just let me go, you’ll be fine without me.” you say hesitantly placing the knife down. 

“No” 

“No? What do you mean, No?” you say looking into his eyes. 

“No, what about me? I know that’s selfish but you can’t leave me. I was an ass before I met you, I didn't care if I died on a mission as long as I went out in a blaze of glory, but now you’ve given me something to care about, someone who wants to come home too. So please stay, we can get you help. Cyclone says he could look into it, he just needs your permission.” Jake hesitantly walked up to you and cupped your face. 

“Can you promise that you won't hurt me? '' You say as your eyes glisten with tears. 

“I promise,” Jake says, pulling you into a hug. 

Taglist-

@alana4610

@taytaylala12

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@novagreen04

@pookie-cleary

@emma8895eb

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@djs8891

@loving-and-dreaming

[pettyrevenge-base]

Mess with my kids and find out $$ Bye truck.

I (34F) have lived in a very nice part of conservative Oregon state for 5 years and this is not a easy state to be accepted when you’re a family of 4 (M38, kids 10M 7F) from OC SoCal. It’s like we have been transported to another planet. And shout out to parents, it’s been awful dealing with the staring parents at the school bus stops!! Oh my god. They stare at my style, hair and tattoos like I’m an alien. I refuse to wear leggings so it’s like they take that as a personal insult. I’ve always avoided the lot of them and kept a polite distance, get my kids and bail. But there was 1 mom that was like the leader. I even heard her say once “yeah, I’m the neighborhood mom! In case blah blah”. She drove her husbands huge truck and thought she was the shit reving it up and down the street. Our apartment complex (all the families that wait at this stop live here) was within eyesight it was so close, I walked everyday To teach my kids to not be lazy and to not be afraid of the weather. . I always kept my distance but what made my skin crawl is the woman couldn’t park the truck. It was the first in person school year since Covid and she was parking on the side walk directly in front of the corner that the bus pulled up to. I was the only parent that walked each day despite the weather. On one particular day there was snow on the ground-she and one of the other creeper moms were sitting in the truck with the windows down so I actually stopped and said “hey do you mind not parking on the side walk. It’s hard to get by” completely calm, just a passing comment. She immediately responds with “I drive a big truck. Deal with it. “. I was not expecting that reaction at all. Her friend was closest to me on the passenger side frantically trying to roll up the windows but at the last couple Inches I come out of shock and say “then learn how to drive it” then walk away.

The next day I walk up the sidewalk and there she is in the rain now blocking the sidewalk. I call the non emergency police line and they said they will keep an eye on the corner for afternoon drop off. When the afternoon comes there is a black Tesla sitting there with grey lettering that says “police”. Truck bitch pulls up on the side walk not seeing him, she’s bumping 2000’s techno and has kids jumping around.

He walks over and talks to her and leaves,I then get a call from the officer to offer some comfort I guess. He gave her a ticket for driving with kids not in their seatbelts and gave her a warning for parking on the sidewalk, forcing people to go around her into the street on the icy ground. . He told me to call him again if she keeps doing it and to stay away from her, she’s an angry person.

I don’t see her till the next week, guess where she parks? I call the Officers direct # he had given and he comes within minutes pulling right along her truck. All the parents are staring. But I do notice that the friend that had been in the truck is now staring at me. I stared straight at the street ahead of me praying for the bus to appear because I was trying not to laugh.

I have always left these women alone, kept my distance. It’s been a couple years now, one of the their sons even went up to MY son and told him “did you know your mom is a bad person?”, I never did anything, never approached the parents I ignored it and used it as a lesson for my son.

Now I found out how far her new tickets have added up to- she racked up $800 in tickets. She hasn’t gone to the bus stop since. I I eventually figured out she does still live here , I havent seen her At the bus stop her since the 2nd cop interactions. I see her driving around, now she drives an ugly little gold Honda. I’m the last person that wants to fuck with you. But if you won’t stop what can I do.

Source: reddit.com/r/pettyrevenge

[rippeanuts1950-2000]

i hate u, i love u

Prev|

Chapter 4)

The past few weeks have been weird to say the least.

Corey hadn’t bugged her at all. At school, he simply nodded at her in acknowledgement if he saw her and at work he did what she asked him to, no complaints or arguments. She should call him out on his bull shit more often, Laney’s life involving Corey has never been more peaceful.

It’s made her job as the Newmans’ manager a lot easier and a lot less stressful. It made Laney feel pretty confident in the band’s ability to win the Battle Of The Bands, which was she herself insisted that she be the one to hand in the set list to the people who were running the competition. As a way to say “Get ready to lose Riffin.” without actually saying it.

Which is why Laney is currently standing in a ridiculously long line a few days before the competition, zoning out. Finally she gets to the front of the line, only to be met with a look of confusion when the lady looks over the set list.

“Aren’t you with Grojband?” The lady asks. Laney resists the urge to clench her jaw. “No, I used to be but not anymore.” She says, hoping this will appease the lady enough to stamp the okay onto the set list. “Oh, okay then. Set list looks good, take this.” The lady hands her a packet. “It’s your dressing room arrangements.” The lady says, when she sees how confused Laney looks. Laney nods and steps out of line to examine the packet.

All right, let's see. “Due to having more bands than dressing rooms for Peaceville’s First Ever Annual Battle Of The Bands, we will be having two bands per dressing room.” Okay makes sense. “Rules and regulations”, blah blah blah, I know how to act in a dressing room. Okay, we’re in dressing room #15 and we’re sharing with Next Gen, that’s cool, haven’t seen the girls outside of a business context in a while. Wait, why does it say Larry’s with…

*****

“WE’RE SHARING A DRESSING ROOM WITH A NEWMAN?!” Corey shouts, his hands shaking as he rereads the packet in his hands. He had waited till school to fully look at it since the day he picked it up, Kin and Kon were spending the weekend with their grandparents. He really didn’t want to believe it so he hands over the packet to Kin to see if it’s true. It’s also to prevent any further outbursts because everyone is currently staring at him like he’s a mad man right now. 

“That’s what it says.” Kin confirms. “It also says that we’re sharing with Shot In The Dark.” Kon oh so unhelpfully adds.“Which is great, it’s been a while since we’ve hung out with them, but the Newman. In. Our. Dressing. Room.” Corey says through clenched teeth. “We’ll survive. At least it’s not Carrie.” Kin points out.

Corey rolls his eyes. “That doesn’t matter. He’s gonna spy on us and steal our secrets.” He says. Kon scoffs. “If that were true, the same could be said about any band we have to share the room with.” He points out. Corey falters. Damn, Kon has a point. “Just try to think happy thoughts and we’ll be fine.” Kin says. 

“Okay fine, it’s fine. You’re right, we’ll survive and I’ll hide any half written songs so that he won’t steal or read them and we’ll have a fun time hanging out backstage with Shot In The Dark. Then we’ll win so Laney rejoins the band and the Newmans lose.” Corey says, closing his eyes and imagining the event. “There, just think of- Oh my god the devil is at our table.” Kin says. Corey flicks his eyes open to be greeted with the sight of Kim and Carrie standing in front of him. 

“Oh be quiet Kujira, this is strictly for business purposes.” Kim says as Carrie examines her nails. She turns to Corey. “Meet us behind the school at 4:00, today, after school. There’s something we need to talk about.” Carrie says. Corey wants to refuse but he knows she’s being serious by the lack of cursing towards him. He nods. “Fine but if you’re not there when we get there, the boys and I are leaving.” He tells her. 

Carrie merely looks bored. “Alright. See you then.”

*****

Laney hates to admit it but there’s times she misses her sister. 

Mostly when she has to do chores that formerly belonged to her sister. But there were still times when she just missed Chloe rummaging around the kitchen and telling Laney about her day. So she takes their Monday phone calls very seriously and always declines anything that doesn’t involve her sister’s call. 

So Laney is more than surprised when minutes after she gets home, Chloe practically kicks down the front door screaming, “YOU’RE REJOINING GROJBAND?!” Laney blinks owlishly. “One, why are you here? Two, who told you I was rejoining Grojband?” She asks, as Chloe all but drags her to the couch. “Katrina told me.” Chloe says simply, ignoring the other question. 

Laney groans. Never would she have expected for her sister and Trina Riffin of all people to become friends but here they are. According to Chloe, Trina had changed A LOT in the past few years since starting college. She was even going by her real name now and was dating Mina. And somehow had managed to befriend Chloe. But no matter how hard Laney tries to see Trina as a changed woman, she still thinks of her as Corey’s crazy sister. 

“Corey told Trina that I’m rejoining Grojband? Didn’t know they mended their relationship. And for the record Clo, that’s only happening if the Newmans lose the Battle Of The Bands, which will not happen.” Laney grouses. “Nick actually told her.” Chloe says, causing Laney to roll her eyes. “Great, I forget that Nick and Corey still talk. And of course he thinks I’m coming back, I’m not. This whole thing has to do with the bet I told you about. ” Laney explains. 

Chloe hums, pondering Laney’s words. “When‘s the first competition?” Chloe asks, she looks like she’s holding back what she really wants to ask. “This Saturday.” Laney says with a shrug. “Yeah, I’ll be able to see that. How are you feeling about this?” She says.

“I feel good. I don’t care that he thinks his stupid band that I came up with is going to win when the Newmans are obviously going to beat them.” Laney huffs. Chloe raises an eyebrow. “Something else happened.” She says, giving Laney a very pointed look. “He said I held the band back.” Laney says, after a few seconds of Chloe’s gaze piercing into her soul. She had left that detail out when she called her sister about the bet last month. Chloe’s eye twitches. “That idiot. You carried the entire band on your back!” She exclaims. “I know, I told him all of that already. It’s fine Chloe.” Laney assures her sister. This works somewhat. “Alright, fine. I can call Kat and tell her what happened if you want. She’ll talk to him about it.” Chloe offers.

Laney shudders. Trina telling Corey off on her behalf is the last thing she needs. “No, that's okay. At this point the only issue I have with Grojband right now is the fact that Larry has to share their dressing room for this competition.” Laney says. “Why?” Chloe asks, getting up and going to the kitchen. Laney trails after, a sense of nostalgia washing over her from her elementary and middle days, back when Chloe would get a snack for them to share while they talked about what was going on in their lives. She misses it. “Too many bands, not enough dressing rooms. Not that we’re sharing with Grojband, it’s just that Larry’s a boy so he can’t be in there with us. They put him in the room across the hall from ours which will have Grojband and Shot In The Dark in there.” Laney explains, sitting down at the kitchen table as Chloe begins to rummage around the cabinets.

“Mhm, that makes sense. Who are you girls sharing the room with?” She asks, handing her sister a bag of potato chips. It’s sour cream and onion flavored, even though she prefers ketchup chips, causing Laney to be suddenly hit with another wave of nostalgia in the form of missing Kon. “Next Gen.” Laney answers, opening the bag. “Is that the band that you met when you were trying to get a break from Grojband?” Chloe asks, cutting up some fruit. “The very one, it’ll be fun. The girls are great.” Laney confirms as a small bowl of sliced fruit is slid towards her. “Sounds like it’s gonna be something, alright. Just have fun and be safe.” Chloe says, joining Laney at the kitchen table.

Laney grins at her sister. “Don’t worry Clo, you know I always am.”

*****

True to her word, when Corey, Kin, and Kon show up behind the school, the Newmans are already there.

“Wow, you’re actually on time.” Carrie says, sounding genuinely surprised. Corey shrugs. “Wanted to see if you guys would actually show up.” He says, shoving his hands in his pockets. “We’re the ones who set this up.” Carries points out. “Eh, you’ve lied to us in the past to make us look like idiots.” Corey says. “It’s surprisingly easy to do.” Kim pipes up. Kin rolls his eyes. “No one asked you.” He says tersely.

Konnie raises an eyebrow and steps in front of her twin. “No one asked you either.” She points out. This causes Kon to laugh for a split second before he quickly changes it to a cough. Konnie smiles at him, for some reason. Okay this is getting weird and confusing. “Look, why’d you even ask us to come?” Corey says, tearing his eyes away from the staring contest between Kon and Konnie while Kim and Kin make faces at each other. Larry nudges Carrie. “Break it up you two, we got business to take care of!” Carrie exclaims. She turns back to Corey.

“I don’t like you.” She says simply. “That’s it? You tell me that on a daily basis.” Corey says. Carrie glares at him. “Shut up, Riffin, I’m not done. I do not like you or your stupid band, none of us do. But your dumb band is the reason why Laney is our friend and honestly, we love Laney more than we care about the rivalry. Thanks to your dumb bet, Laney’s slightly paranoid we’re gonna leave her because she might have to be around you for a month, technically making her an enemy. Which, thank you for giving her that paranoia by the way, it’s been so fun promising her that we’re not going to leave her behind no matter who she hangs out with. So because of this, us Newmans have come up with a deal. In the highly unlikely event The Newmans lose The Battle Of The Bands, we have a temporary truce between us.” Carrie announces.

Corey raises an eyebrow as Kin starts calculating how beneficial this would be for the band while Kon just taps his chin in thought. “What do you mean temporary truce?” Corey says. Carrie groans. “Kim, explain it to him please. I really don’t want to talk to him any more than I have to.” She says, swapping places with Kim. The other girl adjusts her glasses and clears her throat. “If we lose, which is 100% not going to happen, Grojband and The Newmans will not fight nor compete with each other. Instead we will be civil and get along only for Laney’s sake. Once the month is over, so is the truce. If Laney chooses to stay with your band, our truce is still over but only with the three of you, Laney is exempt from it.” Kim says. Corey nods, this makes sense he supposes.

He turns to Kin and Kon. “What do we think?” He asks as Kin continues wildly scribbling down his calculations. “We need to do a group huddle.” Kon says, grabbing his brother and Corey’s arms and dragging them to a corner out of ear shot from the Newmans. 

“Kin what do your calculations say? Does this work out in our favor?” Kon hurriedly whispers. Usually Corey would try and take back control but Kon seems to know what he’s doing so Corey’s gonna let him take over for a bit. “It would work out in our favor and in fact would make us better rivals. However there is an outlier that says a secret relationship will be revealed. It’s probably nothing though.” Kin says, triple checking his notes. Kon tugs on his shirt awkwardly. “Oh, well that’s probably nothing. Corey, your thoughts?” He says. 

“If they truly think it’ll make Laney more comfortable then I say yes. Maybe if I show her that I’ve changed somewhat in the jealousy department, we’ll be on the track forward.” Corey says. “That last part made no sense but I agree with both of you. This could be good for us. For the band.” Kon says with a nod. They went back to the Newmans. “We accept your terms and agree to the truce.” Corey announces. The Newmans nod and Kim hands Carrie a piece of paper who gives it to Corey along with a pen. “This is just so we have it in writing.” She explains after it’s signed by everyone.

Corey and the twins are almost back on the sidewalk when Konnie stops him. Kin and Kon hover for a minute but Corey shoos them away. If Konnie is the one stopping him, it 100% has to do with Laney. “If you hurt her again, I will make your life a living hell.” She tells him. Corey blinks, resisting the urge to shudder. “I forget you were there that day.” He says quietly. Konnie scoffs. “I was there before that and trust me when I say I know how much you’ve hurt her over the years.” She says, shaking her head in disgust. He waits for her to add more of an explanation but she doesn’t. “Just go and remember, you have been warned.” Konnie says at last and all but shoves him towards the sidewalk.

What did Konnie mean that she knew how he hurt Laney? She only became friends with Laney after the incident. And yet she seemed so confident that she knew what she was talking about. The only conclusion that Corey could come to was that Laney had become friends with Konnie before the incident. But he would have known about that, right? Though even he has to admit that by the time the incident happened, Lanes had been drifting apart from him and the twins.

He just made it worse in the end.

**** I cut the texting part out cause I felt like it dragged on and was kinda repetitive. Next chapter I’m opening it on a flashback so you’ll know what Konnie meant when she said she knew how much Corey has hurt Laney. The plot is also about to start which will be very fun. Battle of the bands is starting! Yay! As always, I hope you enjoyed this, let me know what you thought and I’ll see you in the next chapter! Bye!

[lynzishell]

~*~The Beginning~*~

*knock* *knock* *knock* [keys jangling, fitting into lock] [muffled voices] Aurelio: Thank you for doing this, I really appreciate it.

Aurelio: Phoenix? You here? Phoenix: *muffled* Go away. Aurelio: He’s here, he’s okay. Thank you again!

Aurelio: Hey man, you gave us quite a scare. You okay? Phoenix: …. Aurelio: No, of course you’re not okay. I heard about Greta. I’m so sorry. I know how much you loved her. Phoenix: … Aurelio: Hey. Talk to me. Phoenix: … Aurelio: Come on. You’ll feel better if you sit up and talk about it. Phoenix: …

Aurelio: Alright. I’ll tell you what. If you don’t talk, then I’ll have to sing. Phoenix: … Aurelio: I will sing to you. Phoenix: … Aurelio: Okay.. [clears throat and begins singing] Sometimes in our lives, we all have pain, we all have sorrow. Phoenix: *groaning* Aurelio: [continues singing] But if we are wise, we know that there’s always tomorrow. Phoenix: Ok Aurelio: [singing louder] Lean on me when you’re not strong, and I’ll be your friend, I’ll help you carry on!

Phoenix: Ok ok I’m up Aurelio: [singing louder still] For it won’t be long, till I’m gonna need somebody to lean on! Phoenix: I said I’m up!

Aurelio: Good… good, now talk to me.

Phoenix: [taking a breath] I fucked up! I fucked everything up! And now everything’s gone to shit. I fucking killed him. Sure, he was a monster, but what am I? I’m a fucking killer now? What am I supposed to do with that? And I lost Greta. Do you know what she said to me? She doesn’t feel safe with me. What the fuck?! I appreciate you all having my back and lying for me… but maybe you shouldn’t have. What do I even do now? I’m alone in this dump of an apartment. I have no job. I only have enough in savings to get through next month. Then what? I can’t even look at myself in the mirror. I don’t know who I am anymore, Aurelio.

He didn’t even notice he had started crying until he had to stop to wipe his nose.

Phoenix: FUCK! Why are you here?!

Aurelio: I’m here because I care about you, because you’re my best friend. I know exactly who you are. You are Phoenix fucking Realta. You are smart, resourceful, determined. All the things you moved here for, they’re all still out there waiting for you. And you’re not alone. I’m right here. And I’m not going anywhere. In fact, I got into SMMI. I’m moving into the student housing apartments in the Arts Quarter in a couple months.

Phoenix: Congratulations. Aurelio: Thank you. Look, I know it’s been an awful year so far. Maybe you need someone to talk to, to work through the whole mess, and that’s okay. I've started seeing a therapist, only a couple sessions so far, but it's good. And I think it'd be good for you too, if you're willing. Julian and I will help. Phoenix: Ok. Aurelio: Yeah? Phoenix: Yeah. Aurelio: Good.

Phoenix: Thanks. Aurelio: You’re welcome. Phoenix: … Aurelio: Y’know, we have our whole lives ahead of us. And you are going to do great things. I know it.

Aurelio: This isn’t the end, ok? This is just the beginning.

Prev // Next

Personal story under the cut:

This post is dedicated to two amazing friends I had in high school. At the time, I was suffering from a deep depression, and had stopped speaking (a trauma response that still affects me from time to time). One day my friends pulled me out of bed and took me for a walk to the park on a sunny day. While we were there, they tried to get me to talk to them. But I couldn’t. So, instead, they sang this song to me… at the top of their lungs. And it was amazing. It didn’t solve anything. I didn’t speak for another couple months, and my depression lasted years more. But that moment will forever be a bright spot in a very dark time. To this day, anytime I feel down, I think back to that day and smile. After everything I put Phoenix through this week, I felt like he needed a moment like that… even if it’s super cheesy.

[candywife333]

Endlessly

A short one shot from my blurb bucket list. 

Tears dripped down my face in torrents as I realized what I had to do. I had to leave this man. He didn't love or respect me. He never even wanted to be a friend. This marriage had shown me how much more I didn't belong in his life. I know he thought he was above me. I could tell by how he treated me throughout the entire duration of our sad little marriage.

Our parents were family friends. His parents were business tycoons who wanted to marry their son Park Jimin off to me, a hopeless nobody according to Jimin’s assessment of me throughout our schooling years. He had treated me like dust beneath his shoe when we were both in the same middle school and high school. We ran in the same circles as my parents owned a fancy bakery in the nice part of town. My parents had grown up with his parents and though we were never anywhere as rich as them, my parents provided me a comfortable upbringing. Jimin’s parents were extremely kind people who never acted arrogant, even though they owned a chain of extremely lucrative hotels. 

At the age of 16 Jimin had a Mercedes Benz, Rolex watch, a separate outhouse next to his parent’s estate, and the attention of any girl he wanted. 

At the same age, I had my cat, Sugarplum, my teddy bear, Roosevelt, my parents and our bakery. That was enough to tell you how different we were from one another. For some ridiculous reason, his parents thought that I would be the best girl to marry him to. I remember that day when I was paralyzed by shock when I came back from school one day to find them all in my living room. His mother, Mrs. Park had cracked open a warm smile as she saw me standing in from of the door as I awkwardly greeted them. 

My mom came from the kitchen exclaiming in a voice filled with hidden glee, “ Oh, Y/N. Baby, you are back from school. How was your day? Got any articles published for the school newspaper?” I quietly responded, “Yeah mom, getting ready to finalize some edits.” As I walked into the living room gingerly, thinking it was only Ms. Park and my mom, Jimin came in with my dad and his dad from our back yard. Mr. Park chimed in joyously, “ Y/n , You have grown so much. What a beautiful girl you have become.” Jimin coughed silently, laughing under his breath as I grimly realized that he didn’t share the same sentiment as his dad. 

I couldn’t see what Mr. Park meant either since I had just worn jeans and a long sleeve top to school. But I had not been brought up lacking manners, so I replied, “Thank you Mr. Park. Very kind of you to say so. How have you been doing? Would you like me to get you and Ms. Park some tea and cake?” The brightly smiling older man chuckled in a pleased fashion, “Why don’t you do that sweetheart. We have some good news for you when you come back.” 

I walked into the kitchen puzzled at what he was referring to. I came back with the refreshments and set then down on the table as my mom said, “Why don’t we let Y/N first finish college and then we can plan the wedding?” I almost fell off the couch. I felt like I had been slapped by a fish. What the freaking hell did she mean marriage!?? Were they trying to sell me off like a week old salmon in a fish market? And to who? 

I exclaimed in a rather nervous tone, “Mother, what are you talking about? What is going on here?” Mrs. Park started in a placating tone, “Sweet heart we were just talking about when Jimin and you would be married.” I almost choked as I screamed in terror, “EXCUSE ME?!” Mr. Park smiled as he continued, “Darling don’t frighten Y/N. Sweetheart don’t worry. We will wait till you and Jimin finish your under grad degrees and then we will plan the engagement and get you two hitched. It won’t be immediate. You will have time to get to know him.” Jimin sat there in silence with a neutral mask on his face as my face contorted in terror, making me retreat upstairs in utter shock. 

I could hear my dad say, “What do you say Jimin? Ready to take on your dad’s company?” I could hear as Jimin replied in a resolute manner , “Of course uncle. Once I get my business degree and finish my MBA, I will be able to take care of Y/N properly.” 

Contrary to what everyone thought, Jimin proceeded to treat me like an invisible being throughout the duration of our college years as well. We had ended up at our hometown college which happened to rank pretty highly across the country. Though I didn’t agree with this supposed marriage which both our parents had come up with, I thought we would at least get to know each other as friends. And then maybe eventually as a couple if we suited each other.

Jimin and I had run in different circles all throughout high school and middle school. The same trend continued in college. He hung out with other extremely handsome and privileged guys who would also eventually take over their family businesses as heirs. Just as he did in high School, he had a loyal fan following of beautiful well bred girls whose sole existence in college was to trap rich man in marriage. Anytime I would come across him, I would greet him. 

He would walk past me as though he never heard me. The girls he would hang with would always be teeming around him in a protective pentagon. He sure was satanic. His behavior and the way he acted above all others in school  had not changed. To top all this behavior all off with a cherry, he was known around campus for having a new girl every month. His dipshit friend Jungkook,  had coined the term, “new flavor of the month”, to describe his excessively promiscuous and nonchalant behavior. 

To my utter dismay, this man who I had known to never be husband material, continued to exemplify that he was the farthest thing from husband material the world had ever seen. He was as similar to husband material, as polyester was to silk. I had had some faith in the fact that he may change his behavior initially. As we almost ended our college years, I could tell that he wouldn’t change and he would carry this dismal behavior into a marriage that I never even wanted.

I told my mother numerous times as college ended, “ Please mom. Why do I have to marry him? He has the pick of the lot, so many attractive rich girls. Why me? Can’t he just marry one of those.” I started sobbing in frustration as I bit out in desperation , “He doesn't even greet me mom. He doesn't acknowledge my existence. He hates me. I don’t want to marry someone who hates me. You know me mom. I can’t survive with someone who hates my guts, someone who disrespects me. I am the closest thing to a fiancé he has and he doesn't even want to be friends. Why do you and father insist on ruining my life this way?”

To my shock my mother  started crying as well as she morosely said, “ I am so sorry my baby. I didn't know that he was treating you this way. His parents and I always thought he was a well mannered child so we had betrothed you to him when you were barely 10. His dad has a really bad heart condition. And since his dad and mom were your godparents, they wanted you to marry him because you are such a good girl. His father may pass soon, and he wanted see his son wedded to you before he passed.” 

“His parents really think you are the best person for Jimin. You are solid, trustworthy, loyal, beautiful, loving and a hard worker. Nobody in their circles, no matter how rich or vain they may be, amount to you in worth.” Your mother continued in a serious tone, “But sweetheart, if he is treating you like trash, I will tell his parents that this won’t work. They can find someone else for his ungrateful ass.” 

You laughed for the first time in a long time as your mother started cussing out Jimin for being a turd. But knowing yourself you knew what decision you would take. Your godparents had been there for you since you were born. They had taken care of you and your parents when your parents were initially setting up the bakery. 

You decided it then and there. You would marry Jimin and be with him for a few years. When it would get unbearably hard, when you would feel like dying, you would leave him. Inevitably the marriage would die, it was just a matter of time. And, you would be giving your godfather the gift of a wedding for his son. 

I laughed bitterly as my sob fest ceased. It had been 5 long years since  your marriage to Jimin at the age of 21. His father had been elated to see him married off to you. They treated me better than their own daughter this entire time. It almost made up for how badly Jimin had treated me. But that's the thing, almost was never enough. Every person had their limits. And I had hit mine. 

I started packing away whatever clothes you could fit into the suitcases. It had been enough. His cold behavior towards me, the disrespect of having random women over at the house, the disregard towards me as a partner. The tipping point had been when I was about to visit him at his office and heard moaning coming from inside the room. 

In these five years of being married to him I had developed a prowess as a writer and published so many books that had became a best seller. Under your clandestine alias, Strawberry, I had now accumulated a personal net worth of 50 million dollars USD. This progress had deemed me financially independent. I had never touched Jimin’s money since the beginning of the relationship. Whenever we went to galas with him for the purpose of PR for his company, he had provided me money to buy clothes and accessories. 

I had always been a chubby girl who wore glasses and nondescript clothing. But Jimin and most of the world didn't know that I had a personal sense of fashion and beauty sequestered in my closet ready to unleash to the world once I divorced this ungrateful shit. The plan to leave had been in the works since the day of the wedding. Five years of building, brooding, working hard, and patience had earned me the right to a divorce. Even when I married him, he never tried to get to know me. 

I had tried to be his friend, taking care of him when his dad was sick in the hospital on multiple occasions. There were days Jimin didn't even get out of bed because of the sheer misery of his father’s condition. I had supported him that time, sleeping with him when he was lonely and crying in bed in the middle of the night. We had separate bedrooms, but he had come crying to my bed at midnight one night , sobbing profusely as he crumbled into my arms. “I--I-I can’t do this y/N, I can’t see him die with my own eyes. I love my dad, I can’t imagine life without him.” 

He wretched and sobbed for what seemed like eternity as he lay in my bed, snuggled in my arms as he tried catching his breath. I had stroked him on the head, patting him on his back, rocking him to bed as though he were a baby. At the time he had settled against me exhausted with his arms encompassing my waist. His face had burrowed into my chest as he fell asleep, tired from his crying fit. This incident had repeated itself so many times during the course of our marriage. The worst part was when he would act like a completely different person every morning after his crying tirades. He would seek solace in my arms in the nights and become like a cold, impenetrable version of himself the very next day. I was his emotional support animal, and he was the man I could never call my own.   

Reminiscing all those times made silent tears trail down my face as I faced the whiplash of memories. I had tried making him breakfast, packing his lunches, and had tried my hardest to at least be his friend if I could not be his partner. He would let me do all this for him, without appreciation or gratitude. He would eat my food and treat me like a stranger. Treat me like I had never existed. He never remembered my birthday, never concerned himself with my needs. 

When I had tried to kiss him on his lips, trying to making the first move one time, he had spelled out in no uncertain terms, “ You are only my wife in name. Don’t try to make this relationship anything else than what it should be, a PR relationship. And how could you think I would ever be attracted to you? Do you ever look at yourself in the mirror? Learn to take care of yourself. How could you continue to look like a slob your whole life? You’ve seen who I dated in school since we were kids. Did any of them ever look like you?” 

He walked away like nothing had happened, as I crumbled to the ground crying, injured by the one person I had tried so hard to get close to. That night had led me to understand that he was way above my league, at least according to his standards. If this was a PR relationship, then why did he cry to me at night? Why did he come to me wounded,  expecting me to complete him and in the same breath stab me in the heart for caring? 

I had to leave. I had to leave. I had to.

JIMIN’S POV

As most marriages go, they are usually banal affairs. Unexciting and monotonous. Duties and responsibilities littered my brain as I came home early. As I looked for the wife I would never in a million years have thought would be mine,  I stumbled upon some photos in her room. Nudes of a full figured girl dominated the frame of the polaroid photos scattered around the floor. I choked in utter shock at the slip of a stocking and a flash of her bosom. 

I picked up the photos, shocked at how beautiful they looked. This was my wife? The quiet girl who even in our school days simply seemed like the kind girl next door? She wore these stockings underneath her everyday clothes? My pants felt uncomfortably tight as I ventured further into her room. 

 Why were clothes littered all over her room? She was usually extremely organized. She ran our house as tight as a captain would run their ship. Everything was always cleaned and in its place. As I ventured further into her room, I saw piles of lingerie of shapes and sizes I never imagined on her bed. Where was she ? And what was she doing with all these clothes? If it wasn't for me, then who was she entertaining? Rage filled my gut as I couldn't imagine her betraying me with another man. 

On the bed, I saw official documents. One word caught my eye, filling me with dread, my panic continued to rise as a I clutched papers to my face with latent fury. It read,  “DIVORCE SETTLEMENT DOCUMENTS”.  I yelled in a full blown nervousness, “ Y/N where are you? What are you doing? What are these papers?!? Y/N?!” 

In the utter chaos wreaking havoc upon my mind,  I opened the door to her bathroom, and I almost fainted. Y/N was decorated in a red lace thong with a blood red bra and stockings to match. Her voluptuous stomach gripped the strings of the thong as her thick ass swallowed up the thong string. Stretch marks climbed in spirals along her hips as her bra struggled to house her breasts. Her thick thighs were encased in transparent red thigh high stockings. 

I couldn’t even hear her screaming as I continued to stare at her body in undisguised, mind numbing lust and adoration. I had never seen my wife naked. I had never even touched her or any other woman for the entire duration of our marriage. I may be a bastard, but I was loyal to my wife. And my dick that had been dead from the antidepressants and grief at my father’s condition, came to life. 

Y/N yelled in frustration, waving her hands in front of me to get out of the room. I marched up to her as the cloud of  lust magnified within me. She cowered away from me, placing hands to cover her breasts and pussy. I took hold of her arms easily, wrenching them to the side as I studied her beautiful body up close. If I had known this was how my wife looked like, I would have never made it to work on time every morning. 

What startled me was the sniffling though. I panicked as I looked up to see her crying profusely with the most abject grief in her eyes. I had hurt her somehow. She was usually the most neutral, cold faced girl I had ever come across in my life. Her facial expressions never showed emotion except for the times when I would hurt her, when I was so weighed down by the grief of my father that I would lash out at her.  Little did she know how elated I was to marry her the day of our wedding. 

Growing up an only child without many real friends made me a very unexpressive person, but when I loved someone, I loved them deeply. And my wife was clearly hurt so badly. I had hurt her so badly, that she was considering divorce. As it all clicked into place, I wrapped my arms around her and rocked her in my arms, soothing her, “Tell me what is going on baby? What is happening? What did I do to hurt you? Why are you trying to leave me?”

She tried batting away my arms that settled around her hips and backside. But I wouldn’t let her go. I had messed up so badly and once I saw those papers, my mind whirled with terror. I couldn’t survive without this woman. She was my life source, my rock, and she couldn’t leave me. She shouted out in a cracked voice, “ You don’t love me! YOU DON’T CARE FOR ME. GET AWAY FROM ME!! YOU CAN GO MARRY SOME SKINNY CHIC WHO YOU HAVE BEEN FUCKING IN THE OFFICE DAY AND NIGHT! NOW LET ME GO, YOU TURD!!

I grabbed on to her tighter, confused at her accusations, “Baby what are you talking about? I haven't touched any girl in the five years we have been married.”

She wheezed in disbelief, “Liar, why are you always doing this to me? You are as cold as a stone, you freeze me out when you feel like it. And I heard the moaning coming from your office, and all the women you have been parading around my house, cheating on me with. Well I am done, I have been done for a long time. I am clearly unattractive and ugly and not in shape. I want to leave, I want a divorce. I do not want even a penny from you, but I have to leave. You are not healthy for me. This is not a healthy marriage.” 

All of her words hit my like trucks as I begged with her, “Sweetheart, I never meant to make you believe that I have been disloyal. All those women at our house were my business partner’s sisters and family. That’s why they would greet you when they came in to the house.  They run a family led corporation , and all of them had come here for business meetings.” As she became quiet, I continued, “ The day you came to see me at the office must have been when my PA twisted her ankle. The physical therapist and I were both in the room with her. She was moaning in pain because it was a completely avulsed tendon. I am so sorry I made you believe otherwise, that you are not the only woman in my life.” 

“I know how horribly I conducted my self in school .  You always saw me around girls and so you thought that behavior of sleeping around would continue into our marriage. I would never do that to you. You are the only one who truly cares about me. And I was a shallow piece of shit for making you fell unattractive. The day I put you down for your appearance, was the worst day of my life. Dad was getting his prosthetic heart valve replacement surgery and I was so stressed. Mom was crying and I didn’t know what to do, that I lashed out at you when you had nothing to do with it.”

As her crying ceased, she tried to get out of my embrace, but I wouldn’t let her. “Baby, please give me a chance to make it right. I know I have treated you dismally, less than human. But I love you, I have loved you since the day we got married. I just never knew how to show it to you. You have always been so independent, self sufficient, never relying on me for anything. I almost thought you never needed me. And the grief made me an even worse person than I thought I was capable of being.” 

Y/N took a huge gulp of air as she exclaimed, “I don’t believe that you are attracted to me or that you love me. You have treated me horribly for years, and I never even felt like we were married. I felt like a roommate who you just used for emotional support. Then you would freeze me out and insult me when I tried to help you. Anyways, you like skinny girls who don’ t look like me, why don’t you just go and find one. I will divorce you and you will never hear from me again. And I will find someone who loves me, who thinks that kissing me and showing affection to me is not a chore.” 

I started panicking. I was ridiculously attracted to her from the beginning, but the depression medication had literally made me a sexless creature for the past five years. But now she thought that I was not attracted to her, when in fact it was the medication which I had recently been tapered off of by my doctor. What if I couldn't convince her that it was all the medication? She would leave me, and I would crumble into tiny pieces, because I couldn't live without her. 

I explained in a frantic voice, “Baby, it was the medication. I was on antidepressant medication for so long and it killed my sex drive so badly. I couldn’t even have sex if I wanted to, it killed my erection. How can I show you that you are a goddess to me? I don’t even deserve to be next to you. I loved you since we were in 7th grade. But I got so nervous around you that I couldn't even speak when you greeted me. Whenever you would talk to me, I literally felt like dying of nerves. I wanted to talk to you so much when we were going through school, but my anxiety crippled me.  I never wanted to make you feel undesirable.” 

As she looked at me in indecision, I swooped down to kiss her passionately against her lips, opening up her mouth to receive my tongue. I gripped her exposed butt and squeezed, “Please let me prove to you that you are all I will ever need.” I nuzzled my face against her neck, biting and pecking against it as my hands massaged up her hips, trying to find the string to her thong that I could unravel. Her eyes twinkled with what looked like hope as she whispered, “You can try.”

------Please let me know if I should release the rest of the smut for this one shot. 

[hallowgracie]

Short Story: "I Think I Understand Persephone Now"

Author's Note: Corey Dantes, the main character in my dark academia supernatural wip, Pomegranate Elegy, originated from this short story I wrote for my creative writing classes in Fall 2021.

As it started to look like we were coming out of quarantine for good and yet everything was still different from how it was before, I was still processing my feelings about witnessing what felt like an apocalypse. Now, in Fall 2024, in which my life looks so different from that of 2020 or 2021, I still have feelings that are difficult to reconcile about my experiences.

I don't think it helped that I was still reconciling and processing some of the mental health issues I'd developed and overcame during the course of my high school education.

This short story established a lot of the ideas and motifs I want to use in Pomegranate Elegy, and that story developed from the fact that ultimately, this story suffers for being tied to the pandemic.

I'm not sure yet if this story will remain canon to the backstory of the Corey we meet in Pomegranate Elegy. But I thought all the same that you might like to read it.

I hope you enjoy.

...

“I’m going out to the grocery store.” 

I turned off the camera on my laptop and swiveled around to face my mother. She was wearing her nice sundress, the one with the sunflowers that reminded me of a Van Gogh painting. Before, she would only wear it for brunch with friends she wanted to impress, graduations--the occasions between formal and semi-casual. And now she wore it to the grocery store, because that was as formal as things got at this point. 

“Okay.” I glanced back at the grid of faces staring back at me. “I’ll be in class.” 

“Do you need anything?” Mom lingered in the doorway. “Won’t be able to get it till next week, y’know.”

Because it was safer to only shop once a week, and that had become routine.

I’d forgotten that it was Grocery Day, formerly known as Tuesday. The days all blended together with the hours into an eternity within the four walls of my room, my fortress against the end of the world as I’d known it. 

“I’ll be okay.” I turned back to my class so that I wouldn’t have to see Mom frown, the way she did most of the time when I bothered to speak up. It was the concerned kind of frown, the ‘oh honey’ kind of frown. 

It was a small eternity before the door closed. But I didn’t turn my camera back on. Instead, I left my headphones on my desk and took the opportunity to fall onto my bed, a heap of sheets and pillows thrown about by restless nights. 

I didn’t get much sleep last night.

Or at least, less than usual. 

I kept hearing footsteps in my room, and the faint sounds of giggling, like a bunch of girls at a sleepover. I asked my sister if she called any of her friends last night, but she swore up and down that she didn’t.

I’m not sure I believe her— what other reason could there be, after all?

Although she did point out that a phone call wouldn’t explain all the footsteps. Which, I guess that’s true, although I don’t like the implications of that.

I sighed and rubbed my eyes. I knew I should try to go to class and pay attention. After all, there would come a day when I’d be on the other side of this and I’d have to answer for my laziness and degradation. 

Colleges wouldn’t like it if I had mostly Bs.

I would have to excel for them to take me, as our teachers kept reminding us. Our extracurriculars and volunteering were down the toilet now. All that was left for our applications to cling to was our report cards. 

But how could I plan for a future I couldn’t see? Before the end of the world as I’d known it, people would ask us in beginning-of-the-year speeches and stuff where we would see ourselves in five, ten, twenty years.

I couldn’t even see where I’d be by this time next year. 

My thoughts were interrupted by a loud thud.

I jumped from my bed, praying it wasn’t my laptop--thank God, it wasn’t. 

Instead, it was a photograph, from Before. I was with my best friend, Diana, enjoying the Fourth of July. I was in a pink flowery sundress that kinda looked like a hibiscus print, Diana was in blue. My hair was longer, not jagged. There was a light in my eyes, and no circles underneath. I believed her smile. 

Anger and sorrow surged through my veins and my hands began to shake. The glass had cracked, but not broken. I put it back on the shelf and turned it around, so it wouldn’t fall and I wouldn’t have to see the memory and what could have been. 

I sank on the floor and began to cry. 

That was when I felt a cold, icy hand on my shoulder.

And yet, when I looked, there was no one, no sign of anything in the room but my laptop, with Language Arts continuing on with all the blithe determination of a train. 

All I could do was shrug and decide to find some other distraction in place of the impossibly-exhausting monotony of class. So I took the worn volume of Greek mythology off the shelf, next to the photograph I’d turned around, and opened it to my favorite story in all of it. 

I’d gotten it as a Christmas gift in the height of my middle school-obsession with the topic. That was the thing that had drawn me and Diana so close together in the first place. The beautifully-illustrated pages looked back at me. In particular, the painting of Persephone. The portrait was split in half, showing Persephone on the surface, and then in the Underworld. 

I always wondered what it would be like, to be Persephone returning from the world of the dead every spring. Did she change, between the seasons and the realm of the living and the dead? Did the pomegranate seeds keep a piece of her with Hades forever, in more than just her winter exile?

Would any part of her ever feel the same, after her ordeal? Or was there no going back, something lost with that first descent into the Underworld?

I traced the lines of Persephone’s face. She looked too much like me now for comfort. 

I couldn’t stay here. The walls of my room were too narrow, closing in on me. 

“Hey Mom!” I scrambled to grab a mask and a pair of flip-flops. “Wait up!”

...

In the times Before, a Tuesday mid-morning made a wasteland of the grocery store. Completely and utterly deserted except for the occasional customer and clerk. It was not so in the After. Mainly because Tuesday was when the nearest grocery store restocked with toilet paper. 

We were lucky that our lake house was pretty far from the bigger cities of Michigan. But that still didn’t stop everyone from the township and the surrounding little lakes from arriving in a ravenous zombie-like horde to claim the most valuable prize of these days. 

We arrived just as they descended upon the just-refilled shelf as two employees tried to keep the peace.

“Hang on, we have a limit, only two please—”

“Let’s back away, six feet apart now--”

I darted into the fray and managed to snatch up one of the jumbo packages without coming to harm.

“Great, thanks, Corey.” Mom tapped the checklist on her phone, marking our security in toilet paper for the next week or two. “Let’s see, your dad wanted us to pick up some hot dogs to barbecue outside on Friday night, it’s supposed to be a little warmer then.”

We turned to head toward the deli section. Outside of the battleground for toilet paper, the grocery store was filled with ghosts and wraiths, glaring at us with distrust and suspicion as they picked up what they needed to get through the week. 

Everyone was an enemy and a stranger now. 

On the way to the deli section of the store, we passed the aisle where you could get drinks, right next to the produce.

“If you want to grab something, you can.” Mom nodded at the drinks. “Would you mind picking up kombucha for me, please?”

“Sure.” Next to the kombucha I grabbed was a pomegranate smoothie. I took one off the shelf and nearly dropped the drinks when I caught my reflection in the warped mirror thing at the top.

The girl in the photograph smiled and waved at me, and then she disappeared.

“Are you alright?” Mom asked as I returned to the cart. “You look as if you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Maybe I have.”

...

It was a week later when I finally confided in Diana my concerns.

“I think my house is haunted or something,” I whispered into the microphone of my computer. “Weird shit keeps happening.”

“Ooh, like what?” Diana’s gray eyes gleamed as she leaned forward. 

I couldn’t help but smile. 

“I keep getting all these weird drafts, and sometimes I could swear there’s a hand on my shoulder, tapping it to get my attention.” I bit my lip. “Nothing’s there of course. And then at night, I hear these giggles and footsteps, sometimes voices too, but I can’t find the source.”

“Spooky.” Diana frowned.

“And when I can manage to sleep, I have these dreams.” I curled my hands into fists--this time, they stopped shaking beneath my desk. “I don’t remember all of it, but there’s this girl, following me in all of them.”

“What does she look like?” Diana’s turquoise fingernails drummed against her sloped chin. “Like, what color dress is she wearing? Like, it’s not white or red, is it?”

There were two types of ghostly women in the stories: the lady in red, a spirit of vengeance, and the lady in white, a victim. 

But the girl I saw--she was wearing pink, somewhere in-between. A victim and an avenger. Or perhaps neither. 

“No, no.” I shook my head. “It’s. . . Well, it’s me. But me from like, the Before Times. Y’know, before I went crazy with the scissors.”

I made a snipping motion with my fingers, and Diana laughed.

It was an uneasy laugh, but it was still something.

“I’ve never heard of ghosts like that before.” Diana frowned. “Maybe it’s some shape-shifting ghost or something. I mean, it can’t be you, obviously, because--”

She cut off with a gesture towards me at the camera. 

“I’m not dead yet.” It tumbled out of my mouth, much more serious than I’d intended it. 

“Right.” She met my eyes through the camera before looking away quickly as silence filled the call. 

We didn’t need to speak about how death was with us everywhere, now. Even if there wasn’t a ghost, the Grim Reaper was always standing over our shoulders, the end inevitable if we dared to step outdoors. 

“Well, I’ll see what I can find on shapeshifting ghosts and stuff.” Diana managed a weak smile. “Too bad we couldn’t hunt the ghost together, right? Just like old times?”

“Yeah.” My eyes burned, but I managed somehow to keep them back and smile. “We’d make popcorn and get it all over my room, and we’d go swimming when Mom and Dad went to sleep--”

“Just the two of us, outside in the moonlight, alone in the world.” Diana’s smile grew. “We should do it again, when all of this is over.”

If it’s ever over.

“We should,” I agreed. “I miss you.”

Diana laughed, even though I said nothing funny. “Me too, Corey.”

She glanced over her shoulder, before returning to me. “Hey, Mom’s calling me to dinner, I’ve gotta go. Same time next week?”

“You know it. See you then.” 

The screen went black before me, and I was left only with the void of fear that was ever-present, threatening to consume me. 

What if this is the last time we see each other at all? What if we never see each other in-person again? What if in two weeks, you’ll go where I can’t follow? Will you haunt me too?

I inhaled sharply and pushed myself away from the desk. Not that it did any good, because I would never be able to escape these thoughts, because they were everywhere, hand-in-hand with death, in my own brain. 

...

That night I dreamed that I danced with Hades. A handsome errant of death, clad in black and gold with jet-black wings like the dark mirror of an angel’s, we waltzed together in the River Styx. Ghosts clawed at the flower-clad hem of my skirts, desperate to touch something alive. I was breathing when they had their chance ripped from them. 

My heart beat so fast, and I had to keep dancing, had to keep moving with Hades or else surely the ghosts would pull me into the River Styx too, would drown me with the weight of tragedy and misfortune in the world. 

I woke when I missed a step and my heart beat so fast that it hurt. I sat there in the dark, heart racing for a danger that was invisible and omnipresent. 

That’s when I caught sight of her again--the girl. She disappeared as soon as she came, and I knew I couldn’t avoid it any longer.

The full moon was shining through. The first full moon of September, of early autumn. Two omens of a time when spirits came alive, when the worlds between the living and the dead were one and the same once more. 

I got out of bed. I would face my ghost so I could finally go on living, and not surviving. 

I stepped outside at midnight. The breeze had picked up, raising all the little hairs on my arms and legs, as I hadn’t bothered to shave since I’d first had to hide away from the world. 

I knew I shouldn’t be out here without an adult or anything, but death was already everywhere--what did it matter that he was at the lake at night, too?

I stood in the water with the light of the moon, my arms folded across my chest in some attempt to preserve warmth. I should have brought a hoodie or something, but I couldn’t bring myself to even grab one off a hanger in my closet.

Pathetic. I’m sure I give my parents so much faith for my future. 

I laughed, but it sounded like a sob. 

This wasn’t helping, I’d decided. I wasn’t seeing my ghost. It didn’t even bring back the joy of nostalgia.

All I felt was the overwhelming sorrow I fought so hard to keep at bay. I had seen the lake shift seasons so many times in my exile. Spring, summer, autumn. The world came back to life--but I didn’t. 

I would always be trapped here, with fear and death and sorrow as my only companions.

I felt a hand on my shoulder--and like before, I turned around as I had so many times before. But this time, there was someone standing there. The girl--me--stood before me, her feet in the water, a sympathetic smile on her face. 

“I was wondering when you’d make it.” She kicked at the water. “It took forever for you to finally get the message.”

“I don’t understand.” I tilted my head. “Who are you?”

“I thought that was obvious.” She raised an eyebrow. “I mean, we have the same face. I’m you, Corey.”

I snorted. “Not anymore.”

“I guess that’s true.” She looked away, to the moon’s reflection on the water. “Or else I wouldn’t be here, like this, would I?”

“I wouldn’t know, I’m not exactly the type to believe in ghosts anymore.” I looked her up and down. “Or whatever you are, exactly.”

“Ghost is the right word.” She leaned down to pick up a rock. 

“So what, then?” I could not understand the anger and resentment rising in my chest like a volcano building to eruption. “I’m not dead.”

“I think you know why I exist.” She met my eyes. 

I felt as if my heart had come up into my throat, I struggled to form the words. “A part of me died, then. I don’t remember when.”

She threw the rock--it skipped three times before plummeting into the depths of the water. “It wasn’t one day, or all at once. It was several months, before I went.”

“That was it, then,” I mused aloud. “I was right. I’m never going to be the same after this, am I?”

“How could anyone be?” She shrugged and leaned down to pick up another rock. “It’s not your fault, that I couldn’t survive this.”

I blinked. Once, twice--but it couldn’t stop the burning. All of these emotions that I’d buried and become numb to after months of trying to suppress them came rushing to the surface. 

The tears finally came like rain. My shoulders shook and I was blinded by the salt and the water. 

“It’s alright,” said the ghost of the girl from Before. “I just wanted you to know that. It’s going to be okay.”

I swiped at my tears, finally able to see again. “I don’t understand.”

“I’m not staying here because I want to.” She picked up another rock to skip. “You’re the one that keeps holding on. Or I wouldn’t be here. So I’m telling you that it’s okay. You’ve changed--you can let me go. I know I’m never coming back. It’ll be okay.”

There had been something else, dancing with the fear, the anger, the resentment. 

The guilt, that I wasn’t the girl I was before and would never be again.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered. 

“It’s okay,” she repeated. “It will be okay.”

“How can you possibly know that?” 

She shrugged. “I somehow always did. Maybe you’ll know that someday again, too.”

Someday.

Persephone languished at first in the winters with the dead. But it got better, she’d gotten better when she knew that spring would come. 

“I think I will be okay.” It was a promise. One I did not fully believe, not yet. But one that it was critical to make. “Maybe someday this part of me will be something I can leave behind, too.”

The ghost smiled. “I hope to see you then.”

We embraced, and she disappeared upon moonbeams and the cool lake breeze. I loomed down to the water. This time, only my reflection stared back at me. My hair was growing out and there was a light in my eyes again. 

I’d never get back what I lost. I could never spit out the pomegranate seeds that were forced down my throat. Perhaps like Persephone, a part of me would always be trapped here, at the end of the world. 

But spring will come and I too will come back to life. 

[trashbag-baby666]

Eugene Roe VS. The Snow-Baberoe/OC

Summary: just as the title suggests. Gene doesn’t know how to handle living somewhere with four seasons.

WC: 763

C/W: None

BofB Masterlist!

Gene had grown up in the south his whole life. He hadn't really left his respected part of the south. Especially not during the winter months.

So, when he found himself at John Hopkins university during the coming winter, he had no idea what he was in for.

Then there was Babe and Graham. Both of them had grown up in Philly their whole lives and were used to the snow. It was nothing new to them.

Gene had met Graham in his public speaking class.

They sat next to each other and sometimes Gene would help him take notes when he couldn't really use his hands that day.

Then Gene met Graham's partner Babe who had moved with him. He thought his chances were over till he got close with the two and they invited him to join their relationship.

It was perfect and Gene found himself spending more nights at the two's apartment than his dorm.

It was a Saturday at the end of November and the three had plans to get brunch and go to the park. It was getting cold but still it was nice out.

Instead, when Gene was the first to wake up he looked outside and saw the mountains of white snow everywhere.

He had seen snow maybe a handful of times before but this was a lot of snow.

"Hey, Genie." Babe smiled coming out of the bedroom rubbing his eyes tiredly as he saw Gene holding a cup of coffee and staring out the window.

"Morning, Edward." Gene hummed.

"Looking at the snow?" Babe asked, coming up behind Gene and kissing his cheek.

"Yeah," Gene sighed, turning to look at Babe and hugging his boyfriend, "Did you stay warm through the night?"

"Yeah I did, have you ever fallen asleep with Graham basically laying on top of you before?" Babe giggled, it was true Graham always seemed to be a personal heater for the two.

A while later the three of them were finishing up getting ready. Gene was sitting on his knees looking through the clothes he had at their apartment.

"Are we going to have to cancel our day because it snowed?" Gene looked at the two of them.

Babe smirked, "Genie? Are you serious? This is barely any snow."

Gene raised an eyebrow, in the south it was like a national emergency if it snowed. School would be canceled sometimes for only a week.

"I forget we didn't grow up in the same areas." Gene smiled a bit.

"Do you need to borrow some clothes?” Graham asked as he came up behind Gene. Gene sat back on his knees and looked at the curly haired boy.

“Please?” Gene sighed and Graham nodded and opened his dresser drawers.

“Won’t your joints get stiff in the cold?” Gene asked Graham as he took the jeans and long sleeved shirt from him.

“I mean yeah, I’ll just use my motorized wheelchair though.” Graham shrugged looking up at the pale boy. Gene just nodded and went into the bathroom to change.

Graham and Babe shared an amused smiles to each other over Gene seemingly thinking the snow meant the end of the world. “Do you think he’ll be prepared by next winter?”

“Maybe?” Babe chuckled, grabbing his hat out of the top of the closet where they had stowed away all the winter clothes.

Gene came out of the bathroom, “Now do either of you have a jacket I can borrow?”

The three of them were set as they came outside of the apartment building and Gene shivered seeing the fog of his own breath. “I don’t know how you guys do it?”

“You’ll get used to it.” Babe kissed his cheek as he walked down the path towards his car.

“Fuck,” Graham groaned as his wheelchair got stuck in the snow. Babe sighed, turning around to help him out.

Before Babe slipped on a path of snow covered ice. “Are you okay?”

“Fine,” Babe sighed as he got up brushing the snow off of him. Gene had helped Graham out of being stuck.

Then the three of them had made it to the car. Babe put the keys in the ignition and felt his brake pedal stiff up as his car made a sputtering noise. Babe tried again and the car sputtered again before it stopped.

“Fucking hell,” Babe slapped his steering wheel,

“Well I guess Gene was somewhat right about today.”

Babe sat back in his seat looking at the two of them, “I guess we are going to spend our day inside.”

[olderjodijournals]

Saturday, February 1, 1997

 

I have a couple of things to write about that are good news. In fact, I was so excited that I had trouble sleeping after taking the Benadryl and didn’t get up till 11 AM today. I’ve got to really watch it now. I still have 5 more days I can’t afford to wake up too late.

The minor piece of good news is that they did return last night. Well, I didn’t know they returned due to hearing them blast in, but due to looking and seeing the car there. They left again this morning before I woke up.

It’s been peacefully quiet today. Not even those damn dogs are going off.

The major piece of good news is that Tom broke a record and came last night. It hasn’t even been a week since he last came, and he’d normally go 2-4 weeks before cumming again! How wrong I was yet again! He believes it is definitely due to our new plan where I keep talking and keep getting things out before I blow up. In 4-to 5 days is where I’m gonna have to really watch it and keep it together as the PMS sets in. No pre-cramps today, but my tits are getting a bit sorer. Not too bad, though, like I thought it’d be.

I wish one of us had come up with this grand idea last July. I’m glad he thought of it, cuz I’d never have thought of it in a million years. Never again will I ever bash the idea of communication. I had thought it’d start fights, but nope, we just say what we feel and believe and that’s it, whether we agree with each other or not.

It was great to wake up today, for the first time in a while, and have good feelings and hope and positive energy. Although I know that some of these feelings may be false and just wishful thinking and that in the end, I won’t succeed, it’s still a nice breath of fresh air, rather than waking up with that typical feeling of doom and sadness. Followed by emptiness, anger, frustration, and just not wanting to live.

We have a case of too little and too late, though. Meaning, that even if I were as fertile as a Mexican, the last shot was too late and the one before it was too little.

Not only is Tom beating the pants off me as far as sexual progress goes, but he’s also proven to be a much better detective than I am. Especially with his much broader knowledge of computers, AOL, and the web.

He found the agency Norah works for and the drama school she went to in England. Also, the fact that she just performed there and is doing theater work. Lastly, a guy who claims to have a naked picture of her and that he gives pictures to people for free. Well, today I tried to find a way to send an email to these people and places to get the picture and to see if there’s an address to send her fan mail but had no luck. All I found was an address that might be that theater and I sent them mail asking them if they knew how I could send fan mail to her or someone else who knew how I could go about doing that.

I’ve been doing a cigarette experiment by smoking stronger cigarettes to see if it helps to cut me down. It is, but not by much. My lungs are OK, though.

I got very lucky with my drawing last night. Did one that was so-so, but I also did one that came out pretty darn good, and am happy with it. Still wish I could draw anything, anytime, though.

Sunday, February 2, 1997

 

Still no one next door.

Anyway, I may need two Benadryls tonight.

Tom went to the track yesterday. He didn’t win, but he had fun.

Got up at 11 AM today and I only needed one Benadryl last night.

Anyway, now I can explain those “gone vibes” I had about next door and how I kept saying it seemed too good to be true that they’d stay here. Especially since they’ve shut up. It’s when they finally shut up that they move and I thought God was being way too nice as far as neighbors go and that it seemed a logical time for that house to turn over now. The last time we saw the Jeep over there was last Saturday or Sunday. Meanwhile, they take off frequently for a few days at a time.

However, Tom said someone came to the door this morning and thought this house was for rent. The description of the house, though, fit theirs to a T. They’re asking $675, though! Like Tom said, at that ridiculous price, it should be vacant till mid-summer, and then it should take several more months for the price to be talked down. Then he said that as the person was asking him about a house for rent (who knows why our address was on it), some car he never saw before drove in there. So, it looks like that place could be vacant for many months and I hope so. As soon as I hear kids using that basketball hoop or as soon as it looks vacant, I’ll lock the hoop up.

Of course, it could be a mistake altogether. It could be a different street or a completely different number than ours or theirs, but I doubt it. I think they’re moving out little by little and they’ll never be back as of any time now. They may already be gone for good.

I have no vibes yet on what’s coming in there next, but logic tells me that although that bass really frayed my nerves, God’s not gonna be so kind the next time around. Except for the bass, they were great neighbors. Well, I did just say, after all, that God’s been way too good to me lately, as far as neighbor’s noise goes. Also, it seemed the perfect time for them to move, now that they’re hardly ever there and have been quieter. God’s gonna get me good for these last several months of peace and really compensate the hell out of me. It’ll either be the bass that can wake me up or a bunch of loud kids, who scream and play ball constantly and have a dog or two. Yup, another M family.

Naturally, I don’t feel as victorious as I used to when seeing a prediction I’ve made come true. It now only serves as a reminder as to how right my vibe is about never having a kid.

Later...

Tom just did some awesome backyard work. He raked up those roof bits that were all over the lawn and he cut down half of the hedges against the wall that divides our backyard from theirs, where the clothesline is.

He said he could hear someone working over there. Maybe it’s the landlord getting the place ready for the next tenants, that’ll hopefully not move in for a year. Now that’s asking for way too much. I guess I sense that the new people will move in in 6-9 months, but that’s pushing it. That’d take major luck, even if the price is outrageous. I just hope that everyone who comes to see it doesn’t like what they see for as long as possible, though.

Tom had wondered why a truck didn’t come to move them out. Well, a truck didn’t come to move them in, either. There was a truck there, but it was only some kind of service truck. Mike had told me they moved in little by little over about a month’s time, so obviously, they’ve been moving out little by little. That must explain why I hear so many doors shut when they leave. Cuz each time they’ve come around, which has been once or twice a week over the last several months, they’ve taken something with them. At least I won’t have to worry about some summer parties. I’m sure that if they had been here this summer, there’d have been a few all-day parties just like last summer. It did always seem that these were hot-weather people.

Once again, sterility’s so obvious. How could I have a lifelong vibe hold up since I've known Tom then suddenly end up being wrong while I predict other smaller things accurately? There’s no way. I know I’m right about the sterility. I’m not gonna sense something like this so strongly all my life, then end up wrong.

Last night I had the best luck ever with drawing. I did another woman, just like the night before and it’s probably my best ever.

Later...

I just took all of my songs and put them each in different fonts. I’ll still keep those and my letters I do in different fonts, but from now on these journals will be in easy-to-read, complete fonts. Different colors, though.

Tuesday, February 4, 1997

 

Just got off the phone with Sandy and Jen. I screwed up, though. I thought that Jen’s birthday was today and that Sandy’s was tomorrow, but it’s the other way around. Oh, well, no big deal, as they said.

Then I called Larry at work. He said it’s gonna be a while before he’s in a talking mood and in the mood for jokes, but he and the others are doing remarkably well. I don’t think one can talk about something too much, in my opinion, but I was afraid they wouldn’t talk enough, as it sounds like they’re balancing communication, work, and other stuff quite well. They are a very strong family. I reminded Larry that if he needed someone to talk to, I was there for him and he appreciated that. That’s all anyone can do for him or any of them I guess.

The phone’s ringing now and I’m sure it’s Andy. I don’t feel like talking as long as he likes to, so I’ll let him leave a message. I hope he’s OK. He’s still putting up with Quinn’s abuse and he called me yesterday about it. He can come to me anytime with any problem, but I wish he’d just ditch this asshole for once and for all. He’s never let anyone else treat him the way he lets Quinn treat him and it’s ridiculous. What happened to the Andy that has self-respect and doesn’t take any shit he doesn’t deserve? I really think he’s mistaking lust for love, but only he knows how he truly feels. Still, how can you love someone who cuts you down all the time and who’s always threatening you? Wouldn’t he or anyone rather be alone than be in a bad relationship? I just want to go over there and shake this guy. I wish he’d move out of state but fat chance. Well, hopefully, he’ll end up in jail for years but fat chance again. These are the kinds of sick assholes that God gives it all to and that are very lucky in money, health, escaping the law, etc.

I hope I finally get the stuff Ma’s sending today and I wish to hell I’d get a call or a letter from Anne and Harry and Paula, but I don’t know about that.

I’m having major PMS luck. All I have is tits that are a bit sore and today’s the second day I’ve been stuck. I won’t count the bloating, since I’m bloated all the time. I have no pre-cramps, but I’m sure they’re well on their way. I’m only 4-5 days away from my rag, so I should get hit pretty hard with cramps any second now.

Of course, now’s when God takes complete control over my body and I have no say in it whatsoever. I say I want to be pregnant, God laughs and makes me get my period. I’m sure it’ll be real light again, though, but all my rights go to him now. There isn’t a damn thing I can do to take charge of my own body.

Today AMEX called Tom (where he used to work), and they want to pay him to do some programming to make some changes to some kind of labels they use for something.

AOL is so fucked up and I’m so sick of their shit. All kinds of people are filing lawsuits against them, cuz it’s so hard to get online. Either that or they’re deliberately kicking people off-line, cuz they just don’t have enough phones and equipment to handle the high volume of traffic. They switched to flat rates just so they could fuck with everyone. They figured they wouldn’t make it easy for people, since they gave us all a break with flat-rate fees.

I’m not sure now if next door really is moving or not. I still see no car over there, but in the early evenings there are lights on usually, then they go off at around 9:30 when she goes to bed. I believe she and the kid get picked up by her dad at around 7:30 AM. There’s also no for-rent or for-sale sign up. This must explain why I don’t have the “new tenant jitters.”

Tom and I agreed to take $10 a month for each of us to buy whatever we want. He used his $10 at the racetrack and I used my $10 to get a new cat mug (a Maine Coon). I also got the animals a treat. I may save the next 3-4 months’ worth of money, so I can buy 2 mugs and 2 puzzles. I certainly won’t be needing journals for quite a while. I’m about at the end of this one, but I have 6 blanks left.

Later...

Yesterday, Tom and I also went to the library where I got two more Dean Koontz books. I also got two audio cassettes where Norah reads the life story of Jill Ireland. I believe she was an actress, too.

Well, now I’ve got to go dry the clothes I’m washing now.

Later...

Tom said to wake him up if he’s not up by 10:00.

I finally did a duty, so no more being stuck.

I think I mentioned sending an email to a theater that I thought may be able to give me an address to send Norah fan mail, but I had no luck. They sent a reply back saying they knew nothing about it or anyone else that did. So, I just tried somewhere else, but I doubt I’ll ever find a way to write to her. I’m still trying to find an address for Writers/Artists. That’s the agency she works for.

Still nothing yet from Mom and Dad, but I sent their letter out today. The one setting them straight about not telling me what to do and all about how I’ll do and say what I so desire. They can either bitch about it or accept it, but that is the way it’s gonna be.

I also sent them a copy of He Was Only Sixteen.

I see a light on next door. I never heard any car doors, signaling someone may have been dropped off there and now I think that they may have a light on a timer to make it look like someone’s there at least in the early evenings. Maybe they have it set to go on at around 7 PM - 10 PM. Maybe they’ve been staying at their new place for the most part during these last several months. Someone had to have been there Sunday night, though, or very early Monday morning, to put their recycle can out, cuz we saw it out there when we left in the mid-afternoon to go to the library and the pet store.

I’m just so amazed at this awesome PMS I’m having. It’s weird, though, how I’m not really horny every minute like I usually am at this time, and a part of me hopes he wakes up too late for sex. Maybe I’ll get in the mood later, though. Still no pre-cramps, but I know that within the next 24 hours, I’m gonna get slammed with them big time. I can tell, though, that this period is gonna be way too light, so all the more, I’ll be retaining more water. I researched water retention in AOL’s encyclopedia and it suggests something could not only be wacky with the hormones but also with the pituitary or thyroid glands, though I hope not. I don’t want to have to deal with any bullshit or pop pills, but if it’ll help me, I suppose it’d be for the better. I just want to know why I’m like this and what I can do about it and that is, after all, what I’m mainly seeing Rugg about.

Later...

Well, the freeloader just came in at a little past 11:00. I’ve never known him to come in at that hour. The music was at a reasonable volume, but I have a feeling that that may only have been due to his having the windows shut. I swear, though, if he goes back to his old earthquaking, bass-thumping shit, I’ll make the little bastard sorrier than all hell. What’s weird about it is why would he come in at just after 11:00? And why on a Tuesday night? I really thought the freeloaders wouldn’t be back till the weekend and no, they’re definitely not moving. That house for rent must’ve been a similarly designed house, but not on this street.

Wednesday, February 5, 1997

 

Got up at 1 PM today. Only one more day left to hold my schedule steady - yeah! Tomorrow I can sleep till 2:00. I’ll shower tonight, so I won’t have to worry about that tomorrow.

Now AMEX is paying Tom $200 instead of $50. They want him to make a major change in their label printing thing, not a minor change. He wants me to help him out by formatting some disks for his friend Eileen (they used to work together at AMEX), but I don’t know if I know how. Do I? I can’t remember, but if not, he’ll show me what to do.

If I’ve got my facts straight, he’s taking this work to AMEX on Friday, then following Eileen home to do work for her on her computer. She’s gonna pay him, too. In case I didn’t say so before, Eileen and her husband are in their 60s.

So far, my predictions that I wrote down (he did too), that’s sealed in an envelope and not to be read till April 1st, are ringing very true. I saw this extra money coming in, but I didn’t know the source. I couldn’t have said it’d be due to AMEX and Eileen. The only thing I may be wrong on that I predicted would be the amount of his cumming. I said he’d still be cumming 1-3 times a month. We’ll see, but I wouldn’t be surprised, though, if some kind of shit hit the fan making us not have the time to see just how much more or not he could cum.

The freeloaders left before I got up and when I checked a couple of hours ago, I saw one of those city neighborhood vehicles there again, but it wasn’t a van with that logo on it, it was a car. Come to think of it, I don’t think they need a rent sign up. I believe there never was a rent sign up at the house Andy’s renting and that he found it by checking newspaper ads and I think that’s the case here. It’s just in the paper and on fliers.

Later...

I've been regular, haven’t eaten yet, and I still weigh a damn 104 lbs.

That mouse’s cage needs to be changed ASAP for sure. It reeks!

I had a sore throat last night and today. Luckily, though, it’s better and I don’t feel like I have a cold.

Thursday, February 6, 1997

 

No lights or cars next door at all from the late afternoon till now.

Miss Hawaii won the Miss USA Pageant.

After tomorrow I’ll be free to not worry about my schedule. I must say I’m proud of myself, though. I really thought that by now, I’d be having a hard time waking up before 4 PM. This must be the longest time I’ve held my schedule within a 4-5-hour time frame in years.

Nicole Brown Simpson and her pal Ronald Goldman, were murdered by O.J. Simpson, of course, and their parents just won an 8.5-million-dollar lawsuit against O.J. O.J. must’ve not had an all-black jury this time around and I still can’t believe some woman like me hasn’t killed him. This killer’s very lucky to be alive, but God would and will see to it that someone like O.J. lives a long, healthy life, with life’s finest offerings and material stuff.

I’m very glad the Browns and the Goldmans won their settlements and I never thought they would, but there are 4 problems with this. O.J. isn’t going to be killed or at least sued like he should be, the Browns and Goldmans will never collect a dime of this settlement, and even if the Browns and Goldmans got the full settlement, O.J. will still be rich. Lastly, O.J. still gets to keep his kids.

Is this a sick world and God we have, or what?

The sick assholes in court say that there’s such a bond between him and the kids and that just cuz he could and did kill his wife, doesn’t mean he can and will kill his kids. Oh yeah?! Well, let me tell you - as soon as those kids step out of line and really piss him off, he will kill them, too. Those kids are in danger and who the fuck do the courts think they’re kidding? Well, I just hope the kids see their dad for what he really is, break away from him and never associate with him. I would think that at least 1 or 2 out of the 4 kids will really wonder about him as they get older, realize the danger there is in being around him, and get away and stay away.

So, that’s the scoop on O.J. Meanwhile, I don’t want to hear his name. I don’t want to see his face. The thought or sight of him makes me sick and madly furious.

Fuck you, God! Just fuck you! For the way you allow this world to be and for the way you run and control my life and body (yes, I think I’ve felt some light pre-cramps). I know I’m gonna get my period. What else is new? It’s the story of my life. However, why do I feel a few so faintly? In fact, I’m not even totally sure they were pre-cramps, but why don’t I have strong, very obvious pre-cramps? Oh well. Tomorrow for sure.

I just hope God doesn’t fuck around with me. I mean, there’s no reason why I should have spots or any other weird episode, but why do I have a very strong feeling that this will not be a normal period? You know, as in too damn light? God’s adding insult to injury. If I must have all my periods, can’t they be normal, so I don’t have to have all this water on me?

After tomorrow night, I’ll be having Andy over to get his birthday presents. The journal and the soap puzzle book. I hope he likes them.

My sore throat is gone now, so that’s one less thing to have to deal with and worry about.

Tomorrow, after seeing Dr. Nielsen, we’re gonna go pick up invoice forms. AMEX needs that in order to pay him. We also have to pick up some stamps.

Tom’s so sweet. He’s gonna give me $20 out of the $200 for testing his program and giving him feedback. With that, plus my $10 of spending money for next month, I’m gonna get two mugs and two puzzles. This is cool, cuz I had thought I was gonna have to wait till May or June for this.

I wish to hell my folk’s package would hurry up and get here! I can’t wait to see these pictures and show them to Tom.

Well, that’s it, I’m out of here!

Later...

Went to see Nielsen today and all looks great. I don’t have to see him again till August 7th.

I’m still having fantastic PMS luck. And I thought last month’s PMS was the easiest? No way. This one’s the easiest I’ve had in probably years. I have no pre-cramps and I’m still not sure if I felt slight pre-cramps last night or not. It was probably just the normal feelings a body feels at times. It’s really weird that I’m not depressed, irritable or horny, but I can’t complain. Tom couldn’t get hit with this AMEX job at a better time, since now’s when I’m usually very horny and want him around as much as possible.

Like I said before, I have a feeling this isn’t going to be a normal period. I have a feeling I’m in for a very light and quick period or another spot attack. It wouldn’t surprise me at all if that were to be my present from God for saying and writing all the things I’ve said and written about him, but hey, I honestly feel the way I do and I wouldn’t have said and written these things if I didn’t. He took away my right to have a child. He can’t punish me any more than he already has, so, go on God, spot me out all you want, or have something go wrong. I’ve been expecting it. It’s about time, huh? I did say that this was to be the year, after all, that sterility would be “proven” so to speak. In a way that even Tom won’t be able to deny. I still don’t know, though, if I could possibly have a problem with some gland or hormones, but we’ll see in March.

The constant peeing has stopped, but I’m still 104. I wonder if I’ll be 106 after I have whatever kind of a period I’m to have when it should be the other way around. You should drop weight after a period. For a while there, I would be at 99, then about 102 at PMS and period times, then go right back to 99 afterward, but not anymore. Who knows, maybe I will have a normal period after all, but there is still something in the back of my mind that says, I don’t think so! As long as God can be kind enough to keep me from having to have any surgery. I’ve had enough. Well, Tom is right more than most of the time, so if he says there’s a 1% chance that something’s wrong, then I believe him. I want to believe him.

I still have a feeling, also, that there’s some other reason for his wanting to get a pregnancy test at the end of this month. If he really wanted to learn about how the test works and all about it, he could research it in an encyclopedia or on AOL or the web. I asked him this and he said something about their information not always being accurate. Oh. Anyway, I’m gonna feel really weird doing this - a sterile woman taking a pregnancy test. What a joke! The question is why is he suddenly so curious and interested in this now? What does he want to do this for? Is there some other reason he hasn’t told me about? If he thought I was pregnant, he’d have said so, and again, how could I be if I were fertile? The shot in the right time frame was too wimpy and I could barely feel it and the bed wasn’t so soaked. The biggie was too late.

Well, all I can do is hope to hell I get a normal period and lose this water. That’s the only choice, next to having a half-assed period or spots and still being all watery.

Friday, February 7, 1997

 

I’m very depressed and angry right now. I didn’t feel any cramps or any pain of any kind, so I wasn’t expecting to wipe the few spots of reddish-pink blood I wiped off when I went to pee. So, this is going to be a normal period, huh? What’s normal for me, anyhow. It may be light, but tomorrow I’ll have a fuller flow with cramps. Then the next day I’ll spot off and it’ll be just about over till next month.

And I thought this new little plan of ours was helping me? Well, I obviously thought wrong. I just thought what I wanted to think. I just wanted to believe it’d help me to feel like not having a kid wasn’t the end of the world. Once again, I’m left with anger and hatred towards God, feeling like a freak, hopeless, empty. What am I here for?! If God won’t let me move forward, what does he want me to do, move backward? I tell myself I should go back to dancing. It’s better than cleaning. I hate having to pay others’ incomes, but with two incomes now it won’t hurt as much, some money’s better than none, I’ll get back in shape, and it’s all God would allow for me, next to cleaning or being some kind of cashier. But I refuse to settle! I’ve settled enough! I’ll just be the nothing, nobody, half-woman that I am. It’s like I’ve stepped outside my own body, watching myself be molded, controlled and made to be what God wants, not what I want. I told God, “I hate you! How dare you let murderers have it all. Children, good health, money, the works. But I can’t have my dream and therefore, neither can my husband. All we want is a child. Just a child. We may as well be asking to walk out into our backyard and find a million dollars sitting there, not for a child. We can’t ask for or have a child. That’s too much. Too far out. Too unheard of. Too abnormal. All cuz we didn’t kill in the name of you.” I try to tell myself it’s only cuz God’s looking out for me cuz he knows I could never handle it. Not with my screwy schedule and lungs. But no, he’s punishing me, cuz if he can do anything, why can’t he make me handle it? Why can’t he just put me on a normal schedule, make me repulsed at the idea of smoking and let me take it from there? Cuz he doesn’t give a shit. Cuz he hates me. Cuz he hates my husband and is also punishing him through punishing me.

I want to talk to Tom about how I feel when he comes home, but it won’t change a thing and he’ll just say I’m all wrong and not believe me. He doesn’t believe in women’s intuition, dream premonitions, and being psychic. But each month that I get my period, whether it’s one of those months we hit it right or not, is a sad and scary reminder of just what a half-woman I am and all I can do is think of that dream. That dream wasn’t just a dream. It meant something. It was a tell-tale sign of reality and of what my logic and woman’s intuition has always told me.

A part of me wants to rebel against God and get the years of testing going and tell Dr. Rugg to set us up for testing, even though I know I won’t win and will be told what I already know and what I don’t want to hear. This way, maybe Tom won’t be telling me when I’m 80 that I was always OK and that we just didn’t hit it right.

The other part knows that if I did that, not only would it get me nowhere, but that’s asking for major trouble from God and I don’t want to put my life or my husband’s life in any kind of danger.

I still have death thoughts. I mean, what’s the purpose of my being here? To take up space, cost money, bitch to my husband about stuff that can’t be changed, do my hobbies and clean? I’ve definitely lived my life. My life is surely over. There’s nothing more I can do or achieve. Nothing I could want as bad as a kid. The only way I can literally move on would be to die. That way I can either go to hell, if there is one, and I’ve been in hell enough here, or maybe I’ll come back and kill someone, then have it all. Or at least my top dreams.

I have a husband that’s straight out of a fairytale. I don’t have to be drugged up, live in the places I’ve lived in, be around the people I’ve been around, so, why isn’t that enough? Isn’t it selfish and wrong of me to want more and to want a child, anyway? Why can’t I just be happy with the way things are? It comes back to the same answer, though. I love my husband, I love my hobbies, but I want a child. I don’t want to be or do what God wants me to be or do. I want a child. My husband wants a child. I don’t want to just accept and leave things the way they are, but what kind of wife am I? Just a wife who can’t give her husband or herself what they really want most, besides each other.

All I am is a dreamer. That’s all my life has been based upon are dreams. Wishing I could always keep a schedule, quit smoking, and have a kid. Well, there’s no reason to keep a schedule, except for a few appointments here and there. There’s no reason to quit smoking since I only sing as a hobby and since there’ll never be a child to be up for constantly, day after day, and therefore not wanting the effects of cigarettes to make that all the harder to do and put me at risk of an ER attack, and I certainly don’t want to add any more years to this empty, hopeless life of mine that’s over. And they say your life is over once you have a kid? Well, I wish it was over for that purpose, but no, it’s over cuz I can’t do or have anything I really want. Yes, we may have newer and better gadgets and things, move someday, take a nice trip to California, but that’s it. The first best dream is out of the question.

I almost wish I could go kill Quinn as that way Andy won’t have to worry about going back to him and that way there’ll be one less sicko in this world and then maybe God will love us enough to give us what he gives to 98% of the world. A child. A simple child. Not lots of them. Not a couple of them. Just one child.

Now I look at the what-ifs. What if I hadn’t been a DES daughter? What if I had been fertile? What if I did get pregnant? Would it have made me as happier and as fulfilled as I always believed it would? Or would God have killed it or would he have made me miserable all over again in a new and different way? Could my body really take it? Would I really lose my mind? Would I be another Dureen? Would our marriage get worse or end? Well, no one will ever know the answers to these questions.

Would taking the pregnancy test at the end of this month really be wise? I mean, why should I be a sucker and even more of a fool? A sterile woman taking a pregnancy test? Oh, please!

All I know is that I’ve got to do something. I can’t keep going on like this and going through this month after month, year after year, but you know what? There’s not a damn thing I can do, compliments of God. I’m only right where he wants me to be and right where I’ll always be, with no way to fix this, and with no way out. I can do absolutely nothing about this. My life and my body just don’t belong to me.

I also tell myself a lot, well, if you were just better in bed, maybe Tom would get off more. OK, so I’m not great in bed, and if he got off more and was happy with that, great. But that’s all he could be about it - happy. Not making me pregnant. It doesn’t matter how often we screw, how good we are in bed, how often he gets off, or how happy he is about getting off little, a medium amount, or a lot, I love our fun, I want to get better in bed, I want my husband to be sexually satisfied, happy, complete, but that’s about all that can ever happen and I don’t know about that either. My talents lie in art and music, not sex. I believe Tom when he tells me I’m beautiful and that what he sees doesn’t matter, cuz it’s what his emotions are that counts, but I’m still not the slim, fit person I once was, either.

Later...

Just went to take a dump and this time I wiped nothing off. The spots I had earlier were not enough to flow onto a liner. I still don’t know if I buy the fact that I’ve heard that most women who are in the early stages of pregnancy bleed to some degree or have spots. Pregnant women don’t bleed or spot, do they? Not unless they’re having a miscarriage.

I shouldn’t have thrown my old typed journal stuff to the recyclers. I should’ve used the backs of those sheets for drafts.

I changed Gizzy’s cage the other day. What a breeze it was! It only took me a few minutes.

I did a couple more face drawings yesterday that came out pretty well. Of course, this is one of my trade-offs and compensations for being sterile. Bet I couldn’t draw or sing if I could have a child!

[authormahimistry]

Filthy Hot Prince

4

Valeria

Drink this. 

I’ll take care of you.

Sh, it’s okay, Valeria. Fuck, you’re so hot. 

It’s okay, a few more—

I woke up with a gasp. Memories of that night playing in my head. The scent of cheap beers, the stench of smoke, the thick air. Sweat sheeted my body as I sighed, running my hands through my pajamas, feeling the satin bedsheets underneath me. I clutched the pillow and bit my lip when I made sure I had my underwear on. 

Thank God. 

“You are safe, Valeria,” I muttered to myself. “It has been a decade. You are safe. I am safe. I am okay.” 

I laid back on the bed, asking Siri for the time. It was half past midnight. That meant I would meet Khalid in a few hours. Cuddling my pillow, I played his latest interview, falling asleep to his deep voice whispering in my ear, soothing me. 

***

I was a little nervous after sending the text to Brandon. Rejecting his idea to meet up for another date. 

I reminded myself that I had to do it. I wasn’t attracted to him and after the time at his apartment and his smoking, I couldn’t date him. 

The smell of roses wafted in my room, making me smile and relaxing my nerves. Khalid had sent a bouquet of roses that morning, with a letter in Braille for me. I was extremely touched by the gesture, the pads of my fingers moving over the little bumps on the card.

To My Sweet Rose, Valeria,

I hope you are ready to meet me today. If not, don’t worry, I have it all planned. Until then, take care of yourself. 

Your Handsome Date, 

Khalid 

Grinning, I clutched the little card to my chest. I couldn’t wait to meet him. 

Mabel helped me pick out a dress as I changed and took my time applying the makeup. When I turned fifteen, every girl in my school was obsessed with makeup, and I had asked Mabel to help me with it. Since then, I had taught myself to use and apply it. I had marked every product with Braille to know what I was using. 

Fetching the circular tube with a textured droplet on the packaging, I swirled it open and gently applied the mascara. For the final touch, I took a Dyson air wrap to curl my ginger hair in waves. 

“How do I look?” I asked Mabel when she entered my room. 

Her lips pressed on my forehead. “Like an angel. Khalid is going to forget he is a Prince after seeing you.”

I chuckled at her and applied light red lipstick at her suggestion. My finger traced the slight bruise on the upper right of my head. Hopefully, it won’t be noticeable. 

Pinning the two locks of strands on the crown, I donned a comfortable, elegant dress. It hugged my lithe, tall frame, ending just above my knees. Mabel had commented that the navy dress suited me well and Prince Khalid would propose marriage to me just by the looks.

I sprayed my signature perfume and layered it with other subtle one so it would last longer, the scent of roses and freshly cut grass with a hint of spice. 

Now I feel ready.

I felt nerves racking up my body as my driver drove me and Mr Benjamin to Laziz restaurant. It was well known for its luxurious interior and lavish cuisine. The cost of one course dish was more expensive than the heels I wore.

I fidgeted in the car seat, feeling the wooden box. A heavy and very expensive painter set to gift him and apologize for not arriving the day before. 

“Will you be okay? Your cane is with you, right?” 

I nodded at Mr Benjamin when the car stopped to a halt. “Would you please help me find the table?” 

“Of course, my dear.”

Khalid

I glanced around the crowd of the restaurant. Even on a Tuesday evening, it was filled with rich celebrities, employees and couples. I had postponed my visit to Azmia till next week, and although Zain was not happy hearing about the news, he was being extremely nosy. I knew he wanted me to be present and look over the country while he took care of Nasrin, who was five months pregnant. He wanted to spend some time alone with her before the baby shower. Zain and Nasrin deserved it.

I wished to find the deeper love like them, but I knew that no man like me would ever find peace with his demons. 

I thought back to the letter I had written for Valeria and internally cringed at my sweet rose. 

Who the fuck calls their date a sweet rose? 

I was definitely way behind in the dating scene. 

Zara had called me the night before. I was more than delighted to see my little sister having the time of her life in Australia. She had been travelling the world, so it wasn’t a surprise that she flew from Sri Lanka to Australia. Her hair was still a shortish pixie, making her cheekbones and pert nose stand out. She was on a beach, her pale skin sun bathing as she asked me if I was having fun. 

I had shrugged.

“You need to loosen up, Khalid,” she had said, scrunching her nose at me as if she was disappointed with my answer. “You need to live, brother. You are thirty-two so have fun before your hair turns grey. Ask Zayed to help you.”

Zara had said with a mocking grin, the beauty spot on the corner of her lip, looking adorable, with her hazel eyes gleaming in the sun. I missed her. I told her to keep me and Zain updated on her whereabouts and give us an emergency call if anything else happened. 

No one knew where she was except our family. As a royal princess, it was her wish to stay anonymous, travel the world and learn photography. I just hoped she would take care of herself. 

I didn’t have the courage to tell her I couldn’t ask Zayed to have fun. How could I have fun when I had taken someone’s life?

I snapped back to reality when the server asked me if I would like to order a bottle of wine. I dismissed him, still drowning in my thoughts about the past when my eyes pinned on the stunning redhead who entered the restaurant with an air of elegance. Hot blood thrummed in my veins as I shamelessly raked my eyes over her body, covered in navy blue. 

Lust. 

Images of the blue painting flashed in my head the longer I gazed at her. Her long legs were bare beneath the knees, delicate sandal heels donning her ankles. Her glowing skin was as pale as alabaster, her bright copper hair falling in waves around her shoulders, a small smile curving on her pillowy red lips.

My body reacted in a primal way when I noticed someone old, possibly her father, holding her arm. I had never felt that way before.

“Hello, Prince Khalid.”

I stood up, counting the adorable freckles on her nose and cheeks. Cute. I couldn’t wait to kiss them. 

“Hello, Valeria.” 

Angel. Her face was of an angel. 

Even though stunning sunglasses covered her eyes, I could notice her long lashes blinking in my direction. Color red dusting her cheeks as she smiled at me. 

Fuck me.

“This is Mr Benjamin,” she introduced the old man by her side. 

“Of course,” I replied. 

I couldn’t stop staring at her. 

“Should I stay, Valeria?” 

With a great amount of effort, I managed to look away from her and to the man standing beside her. Benjamin. The man who called himself her father, who had asked me for my intentions. Why was he here with her?

Valeria gave Benjamin a smile. I narrowed my eyes. I wanted to be on the receiving end of that smile. I quickly shook off the ridiculous idea. 

I must be going insane. 

“I will be okay, thank you, Mr Benjamin.”

I had the urge to step closer to her and shield her from others’ view, protect her. “I will take care of her and drive her back… if Valeria is okay with it. Or my driver can drive her home.”

She turned towards me, her cheeks pink. I took a deep breath to control myself and glared at my shoes. She was too precious to look at. 

Fuck. Why am I acting like a teenager with a crush? 

“You don’t have to trouble yourself—”

“It’s no trouble at all.” I gave her a brief smile, even though I knew she couldn’t see it. “It would be my honor.”

Benjamin cleared his throat. I glared at him for interrupting us. “I’ll be leaving then. Have a good night, Valeria. Mr Khalid.”

With a nod, he left us alone, standing closer to each other in a crowded restaurant.

Valeria

I forced myself not to lean up and take a long whiff of Khalid’s smoky, woodsy cologne. He smelt nice. Really nice. Something musky and exotic and very male. The kind of nice that would make you nostalgic after a few years and fill you with warmth. It made my stomach churn with an odd feeling. Perhaps it was giddiness. 

“I want to apologize for asking you to meet here,” Khalid said, standing beside me. 

I turned in the direction of his deep voice tinged with a little English accent. 

Hearing an apology from him made me feel weird because his tone told me he wasn’t used to saying sorry to anyone. 

Every inch of my body was aware of the closeness between us, the air charged with static electricity, making my nerves hum with anticipation. I could feel him looming over me. Towering me even though I was fairly tall, even in heels.

Before I could open my mouth, he asked me if he could touch me. 

Blood rushed to my face, my legs tensing at his smooth question. Did he want to touch me in front of so many people? He was truly a player like those articles I had heard—

“What?” I managed to utter, mentally shaking off the dirty visuals repeating in my head with my naked body sprawled across a table for his full course meal. 

I was sure I was red from head to toe. 

Khalid cleared his throat. “My guards have cleared the second floor for us if that’s okay with you?”

His guards? Of course, he would have guards. He is a Prince. But he did what? Did he do that for me? Maybe he wanted privacy during our dinner. 

Not touch me privately, of course.

I lifted my palm. “Here.”

If it was someone else guiding me, I would ask for their elbow, but not with Khalid. I wanted to hold his hand.

Warm, powerful hand engulfed my hand. I could feel the small tingles when his long fingers held my smaller palm in his larger one. I traced the pads of his fingers absentmindedly, noticing the small callouses from where he might grip his paint brushes for long hours. His hands were not soft as I had imagined a painter’s hand would be. They were calloused, roughened. 

I adored it. 

He slowly led me to the stairs, aware of my cane in my right hand. He made sure to tell me about the railing, clutching my hand with each stair I climbed. As if he was afraid to make me fall and staying close to make sure I didn’t. I tried hiding my burning face behind the curtain of my hair, but the strands pinned on my scalp didn’t help. 

After climbing the stairs, I thanked him. 

“No need to thank me. I hope I didn’t trouble you.”

I could sense the hesitation in his rich voice. 

“It’s alright, Khalid. It was just a minor headache but my doctor urged me to take a day off.”

Why am I smiling so much? My cheeks hurt, and I wanted to press my cold hands on my face to calm them down. 

Khalid

I pulled a chair for her, her subtle feminine perfume wafting in my nose as she sat down, gripping the edge of the table. I tried not to take a whiff of her silky copper hair, which smelt like roses. I had to control myself and not creep her out. 

“Can you please bring water for me? Thank you,” Valeria said to the waiter with a warm smile that had his ears turn pink. He poured me a glass of the expensive white wine that I had ordered and excused himself to bring her water. 

“You don’t drink wine?”

Her eyes flickered in my direction as she removed the glasses. “No, I don’t like alcohol.”

I swallowed a big gulp. She was my complete opposite.

I could barely take my eyes off of her. They had given her the menu in Braille, the soft pads of her fingers running across it. 

My right hand still felt tingles from before. Her hand was smaller than mine and I had to force my eyes on the stairs when she had traced my fingers. I knew she did it mindlessly, but it felt intimate to me. Almost erotic for her to caress my fingers like that. 

I wondered how it would feel if she caressed a different, harder part of my anatomy. For the umpteenth time, I had to shuffle in the confines of my pants, remembering her soft touch. 

This was a new low for me. Getting turned on by holding hands. 

After giving our orders, Valeria looked at me, her voice shy. “I have something for you.”

I watched as she leaned down to open her handbag and pull out a big wooden box with a small red bow. 

“This is for not being able to meet you yesterday. I hope these are the ones you like. I didn’t know which one to choose from. I can barely draw a straight stick figure so I apologize beforehand if you don’t like them. So, um, let me know which one to get—”

I took the box from her before she could lose her breath. “Thank you very much, Valeria. But you don’t need to do this for having a medical emergency. I should be the one to get you something.”

She gave me a slow nod, her lips pursed together as she waited expectantly for my reaction. I didn’t want to make her wait and opened the box. My eyes widened when I saw the expensive oil paints in a wooden carved box from a very luxurious brand. It must have cost a pretty penny to gift me this. 

“Thank you, Valeria,” I said, my voice a husky whisper as I awed at the colors. I couldn’t wait to try them and feel the texture smoothen underneath the pressure of the paintbrush. “The colors look so vibrant and rich, I can’t wait to paint using them. It’s very thoughtful of you.”

If it was even possible, her cheeks reddened further, a gorgeous smile curving her lips. “You’re welcome, I am glad you like them.”

We were interrupted when the server brought our food. I didn’t tell her that everything cooked was tested healthy and without any poison by my royal taster. My family and I decided that it was a risk to ignore the event of last year when Nasrin, my brother’s wife, was almost poisoned by the food cooked for her. 

I watched in awe how easily she maneuvered the different types of spoons and forks as if she remembered how and where everything is placed. I was very impressed. 

“You seem close to Benjamin,” I said, wanting to know more about the man who was so protective of her. 

Valeria nodded. “He and Mabel are my guardians. My parents, you could say, as they took me in growing up. I was dropped on their foster home when I was a baby.”

I took a sharp breath. I could never understand why someone would ever do that. 

“If it’s not too much, can I ask what happened to your sight?” I wanted to know if she could see through a fog or darkness.

Zara’s mother, Isabella, was born blind, and she had a foggy vision. I wanted to know if Valeria did, too. 

She took a shaky breath, and I knew it was a hard question. “I lost my sight in a car accident when I was eleven. A truck driver ran past the traffic lights, lost his control and it slammed with our car. The couple who had adopted me a year before that didn’t survive. I hit my head and my world went black. I woke up with corneal blindness.”

I clenched the spoon in my hand, cursing at the circumstances, but I knew better than to blame it all on the circumstances. 

“Shouldn’t you get new corneas to treat it?” I knew about it because I often visited charities involved with treating disabled children. After death, eye donors donate their eyes and the donated corneas helps the children with corneal blindness get their sight back.

“Of course. But I would rather have children get their sight back than me. I… I wouldn’t know what I would do when and if I get my sight back.”

The server came back with the main course. The air around us tense and heavy. It was a serious subject, but I couldn’t imagine living without sight for a day. I had tried painting covering my eyes, but it was a terrible process. Not knowing which colors I am using, which colors I am mixing, which lines I am stroking on the canvas. 

Valeria broke the silence first. “About the paintings. Does the inspiration really come from suffering and…” She waved her hand, her face turning scarlet. 

I smirked, leaning on the table. “Suffering and?” 

“You know… the answer that you gave to the interviewer.”

“I don’t remember, Valeria. Suffering and?” I asked again, innocence lacing my voice while my eyes dared her to say the word she was embarrassed to. 

Fucking. 

“I know you are teasing me,” she grumbled and whispered quickly, “Fucking. Suffering and fucking.”

I grinned, very pleased with her reply. “Not really. I like to make my agent angry and I was bored at the art show, especially with the interview. I said it to piss them off.”

Valeria tilted her head, her red hair sliding over her shoulder and revealing her slender, pale neck. I could see the pulse beating in her neck. Before my filthy thoughts could fill my mind, I looked away. 

“I thought every art came from a little of suffering… and intimacy.” She chose her words carefully. 

I hummed, taking a sip of wine. “It could, but it also means having fun. It is a lengthy process and despite the efforts, whatever that may be in other’s case, most of the artists are happy when they are creating what they want to make.”

I didn’t tell her that I was an exception. I hadn’t made anything while I was having ‘fun’, I only painted after having sex, heady with alcohol or waking up from nightmares, suffering with the demons of my past. 

She bit her lip, my hazel eyes watching the fullness of her bottom lip before she replied. “I understand, Khalid. Like the process of turning a scent into a bottle of glass.”

I took a sharp breath when Valeria gave me a bright smile. If she kept smiling at me like that, I was sure I would fall for her. I placed my hand over my chest, rubbing the material of the shirt to calm my pounding heart underneath. 

Wait, fall for her? Where did that come from? 

I couldn’t fall for her, I won’t.

But I knew, at that moment, I was lying to myself.

Valeria

I clutched his hand when he helped me down the stairs after we had our dessert. I had asked him which painting was the hardest to paint. Walking out of the restaurant together, I breathed in the fresh air of night. 

“Every painting was hardest to do,” he hummed, thinking about his answer. His deep voice making me shiver. “It would be my next painting.” 

Why did I sense a hint of smugness in his voice? 

“Will you tell me what it’s about?” I asked sweetly, my mind full of curiosity. I couldn’t wait for him to finish the painting and hear Benjamin explain it. Or better yet, hear Khalid explain it to me. 

Khalid crooned, his warm breath brushing the shell of my ear. “You would have to try harder than that, Valeria.”

I let out a small laugh and squeezed his hand when he announced his driver was waiting for us. I settled in the warm leather seat of the car and felt Khalid’s presence beside me, closing the door after laying my cane on the side. I told my address to the driver, the car turning on with a smooth purr, and started moving.

“What about Limerence? Was it hard to paint?” It was among his best paintings, after all. 

There was a moment of silence before Khalid answered. “No. I finished sketching it in a day and painted it within next two days.” 

I could sense the hint of hardness in his voice, which was absent when he talked to me before. My question must have evoked some kind of bad memory to him while he painted Limerence. 

Without hesitation, I placed my palm on his hand. Or rather, I wanted to place my palm on his hand to console him but landed on his muscular thigh. Without embarrassing myself further, I said, “I apologize if my question was rude. I was getting too curious.” 

Oh, I am curious, alright.

I scolded myself for being so rude while feeling the hot, strong skin underneath the touch of my hand clad in silk pants. I froze when his thigh muscle tensed, and before I could take my hand away, he covered my palm with his. 

“You weren’t rude.” He asked, “How do you feel—”

“We have arrived at Miss Valeria’s home, your grace,” the driver interrupted us. 

Khalid squeezed my hand. “Come on, I will walk you to your door.”

I led the way, having the path to my house mapped out in my mind. He had asked me about my work, and he seemed impressed when I talked about Delicate Dew. It had a profitable launch two years ago, with doubling profits each month ever since it was launched. 

I had a terrible date night because the fragrance I was wearing made me feel uncomfortable. It was supposed to be the best perfume of that year, with a reputable brand, but it didn’t suit my skin. With my business degree, I decided that I would make my brand of perfume for every gender with simple notes to wear every day. Half of the royalties went to fund the fundraiser and charities for disabled people.

“The rosy, delicate perfume that you are wearing right now, is it from your brand?” He asked, the scent of his cologne in the night air making me want to press my face against his chest. 

Why does he have to smell so good?

“It is. It lasts for hours.”

“My mom used to wear it that’s why I wanted to talk to you about it at the art show,” he said and I could feel the sadness in his voice. Everyone knew about the death of his mothers, the two Sultanas dying in a plane crash. “The notes have changed, but it made me nostalgic.”

I rubbed my thumb on his pulse. “I layer it with other perfume to match with my body. I found the name of the brand when I was a kid and asked a lady and she was kind enough to give me her own travel size bottle.”

“You are wearing the woodsy notes,” I said. “It suits you.” 

“I had to take the suggestion of a beautiful lady,” he said, the vibrations of his voice sending chills over my body. “I would like to invest in your company. Try out some of the perfumes myself.”

I faced him. “You would? But… we just met and you want to offer a partnership to my company?”

When he didn’t reply, I giggled. “You nodded, didn’t you?” 

“I… I am so sorry. Yes, I nodded.” Khalid let out a small chuckle, his warm breath caressing the bare skin of my neck. 

He continued, “Knowing most of the profit goes to the charities, I know my investments will be in excellent hands. Even the beautiful CEO of the company seems very charming and caring.”

I didn’t reply, our feet coming to a halt in front of the main door of my house. I knew he was looking over the gardens that were mainly handled by Mabel and Mr Benjamin. 

“Were you going to ask me about something? Before we arrived?” 

“Yes, but it can wait. Goodnight, Valeria. I will see you soon.”

I was not expecting his hot body pressing against me, a pair of warm lips kissing my cheek. I gaped and pressed my fingers to where Khalid had kissed me. My entire body felt like it was about to melt when I heard him walk away.

Not fair. I wanted to kiss him goodnight, too. 

Kiss his cheek. Not anything else. 

Nothing else.

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[hieuthong]

ENTRY 2

uneventful week

I’m a rather nosey person you see, so obviously went to look at other peoples blog and I saw some of them introducing themselves. So i figured I should do that too since this is my first time taking this class and maybe Ms Ashley (you!) can get to know me a bit more.

Hi Ms Ashley! I’m Hieu Thong but you can call me Hilton. To be honest, no one really calls me that name, well, in kindergarten for a brief period i had friends who called me that but after that no one did. However, since I getting into University I started introducing myself as Hilton so I slowly got used to it. I am 20 this year (crying because i’m no longer a teen) Back in secondary school i used to take japanese language lessons because my school offered it or rather some of the classes got a choice to choose between taking Mandarin or Japanese. I as someone who HATED mandarin because i was so bad at it, I obviously chose to take Japanese! I also took piano lessons but i only did up till grade 5. For a period of time i was also enrolled into a creative writing class? but to be honest i don’t have any recalls of what i learnt there 😭 I only remember getting forced to write poems which I could not 😭 So hopefully for this 20% poem assignment i am able to cook something up …

WHAT HAPPENED THIS WEEK?!?!

(spoiler!! nothing much)

This week was very uneventful :/ On Monday and Tuesday I went to class like usual. Wednesday however i went out with my secondary school trio! We planned this meet up since TWO YEARS AGO! The first time we planned it, I had finals so i couldn’t go. The second we planned to meet up my other friend had her A-Level finals. The THIRD time we planned the OTHER friend had her finals, so it was never a successful meet up until this week… since my class ended at 10 we could meet up for lunch. My friend drove the both of us out for the first time and let’s just say i’ll offer to drive next time we go out. She road rage so much it was scary 😭😭 We went to a cafe to eat brunch and catch up (spilled tea!!) of things we missed out on in each others lives in the past two years.

On Thursday, we had our first understanding broadcasting class. It was during the lecture that i felt so glad i did not pursue journalism or be part of the news anchor industry. WHY? because i don’t work well under pressure and i don’t like last minute impromptu things :/ Imagine mid reporting and the scripts got messed up and i didn’t prepare any back up plan for it 🥶🥶🥶 I won’t survive for real…

I had to skip my afternoon class because i needed to attend an award presentation for the company mom work at. There were so many people there which i did not expect. We were called up one by one to receive a certificate for getting admit to a University. They also announced the course we’re taking which i then found out that there’s so many people taking medicine related courses? SMART FOR REAL! Can’t be me… i can’t do anything related to science- Last semester i had to take psychology and i’m so SO glad i don’t have to take it anymore 🙏🏻🙏🏻

The rest of the week was nothing much, I went to work on Saturday then ate with my grandparents as an early chinese new year celebration with them since they won’t be around during CNY. On Sunday , me and my mom once again went to do some last minute CNY shopping. She bought these weird looking sugar cane, i think they look a bit like celery 😭 That’s basically how my week went!

—END—

[kultracatalogue]

I think now it’s starting to set that things won’t ever be the same. And I think I’ll get used to that at some point. I’ll always cherish what we had I’ll never say that I didn’t! I don’t think I’m ready to move on and look for another and I don’t plan to anytime soon! I just want to grieve and hold onto my love for the things we had till I feel like my grip naturally lessens its strength. It’s only been three weeks. When would a good time be for when I feel okay with closing this part of my life? LOL I wish I could remove these feelings for you I don’t want you to have to deal with the idea that I feel this way. You shouldn’t have to! You don’t deserve to. This week was so eventful. Who knew we’d talk and banter and chat a lot this week but it wasn’t the same. Not to say that it was bad, just not the same. And I'm okay with that. That intro to islam video was really good and interesting thank you for showing me that! I actually think my interests from it stemmed from you. I think it grew more when we broke up because I wondered what about it made you so compelled to end things. And how passionate you are when talking about it this week. And I think that’s great. It’s good for you! I plan on reading the Quran at some point. It still hurts a little when I see and talk with you but this feeling will at someone lose its hold on me. A part of me gets confused that we aren’t together anymore. I hope you’re doing really well! And living such a lovely life and love a lot.

For the R that I knew: (I wouldn’t read this part unless you want to feel nostalgic and know about what I’ve been doing)

This week was very fun and eventful LOL! I’ve done a lot of things with all this free time that I have now. I spent a lot of time with you when we were together. This week I went to an event where I walked around different booths of differing faculties and I got free hot chocolate and scones!! I love free food. I tried making this protein bars and they fucking suck I hate protein powder so fucking much and I know you know that LOL. It was a honey, peanut butter, protein powder, bananas and rolled oats product. On Wednesday I had made a nice mackerel lemony pasta that I enjoyed for school the next day. I went to the help centre aswell to get help with algebra LOL it’s a little confusing but I’ll learn it. It’s weird walking around school without anyone to always be with. I want to make new friends so I’ve joined a lot of different clubs and I plan on going to a lot of different events to meet new friends and try new things. On Thursday I went to this collage event and rock climbed a bit. A friend that I made and I were jumping around on rocks as if we were some cheeky monkeys. At the collage event I met a new friend! He invited me to come to his photography club (doesn’t that sound fun?) I want to make some cool graphics. On Friday, it was really fun! I drove to school and almost got in an accident. God that was a little scary (it was not my fault I promise!) holy does my cmput class be hot and stinky like god damn! What are we cooking in here! I drove home and I had a spur of a moment feelings. I was talking to Fran a week or so prior and I asked him (because he was going through some things) “what do you want to do? that you want to do for yourself?” And he said he always wanted to try dancing. And I said that we’ll do it, I’ll come with him if he’s nervous to go by himself ! Because it’s hard to do things by yourself and I always wanted to help people do what they want. I think a lot of times people who know me and hang out with me always try something that’s on their mind or something new to them. I like to believe I give that support or push that they need because sometimes that wall that’s made is so hard to jump over. Like a stepping stool for their goals. I love helping that way or seeing people eyes speak with passion when trying something new. So I impulsively told him let’s go dance tonight let’s go to a dance studio! We drove to this place and LOL we saw through the window they were doing ballet 😭😭 ( we wanted to do hip hop but we didn’t know their schedule ) we sort of said fuck it and drove to a random studio. THEY GAVE US SUCH CRAZY STARES LOL. I tried opening the door but it was locked. God it was so funny Fran and I were crying of laughter because it’s dark and we’re running around 118. We must’ve looked so crazy. We then were like fuck. What now? We said fuck it! Let’s go to a different studio and we did. Did we luck out or what? They were doing hip hop b boy shit!!! We got hyped as fuck!! they were so cool doing these freezes, power moves and spins and handstands. Their footwork and flares are so fancy. We met dudes who go by Link and Drip (bboy names — I hope I get one called Garfunkle or Bartholmoew Beethoven) and they showed us top rock, six step and the stab. But we are ambitious so we half the time were trying to spin on our upper backs and do spinning handstands. God that was so fun. I plan on going every Friday. I met a dude there and he’s part of the dance club at uni! I’m going on Monday to get my rock on. Today I went snowboarding. It was a lot of fun but I’m so exhausted. My pants ripped and my ass hurts a lot (feel on my butt) falling while snowboarding is so much more painful and scary. I hit the back of my head a little hard. So I’m gonna try and go a little easy from now on. I also hit a tree. Ouchie. But it was a good experience. Then we all went inside and argued about the logistics of chiropractors. Fran thought they were real! They are not backed by science. I brought up videos of where they hammer your asshole or crack an infant babies neck. It was such a funny discussion.

I missed discussions like that with my friends where we are just silly. I told Fran that he might want to try being an environment where they’re people his age because he doesn’t go to school. It might help his dilemma. We snowboarded again and I was so tired from falling so much and so unorthodox ways. It hurt a lot. Make sure to go with the ski instructor friend okay? Anyways we went to Dspot. Do you know there’s one pretty close to us now? It’s only a 10 minute drive from where we are. You should check it out with your friends. We had more crazy discussions and weird hypotheticals. Monday I have an interview to be apart of this coding project. I hope it’s cool. My body has gotten a good chuck of the fat percentage off. I gained a bit of weight when we were together! I never minded that because the food we ate was on good! We ate out a lot and I gained some fat. But I’m leaning out again and my six pack slowly coming back. I feel lean and I’m starting to feel a bit like me again. I saw a quote saying “IF OUTSIDE VALIDATION IS YOUR ONLY SOURCE OF NOURISHMENT YOU WILL HUNGER FOR THE REST OF YOUR LIFE” (sorry for caps it was a copy and paste.) I think I’m going to start doing things for me again. Things that’ll make me feel happy and proud of who I am. Now I’m home writing this text because honestly. I’m feeling very nostalgic because I kept thinking that we could’ve went together. And I guess I just miss you! I miss your warmth and comfort that you gave me. And I’ll always cherish that in my life. I hope you’re doing okay. I’m going to go relax now. Take care of yourself okay? See you!