#new style and angle and UGH. AHHHH

[i-am-a-fan]

she needs to kiss a pretty girl. General’s orders

[lindseyluvsdrag]

Knocked Up Ch. 5

In case you missed it: Chapters 1, 2, 3, 4

Violet felt as if she was bringing home a stray dog as Matt followed her into her condo.

“Holy shit, this place is incredible!” he exclaimed as he took in every detail of the woman's abode. The pink, silver and white color scheme wasn’t surprising because it seemed to fit her style perfectly. When Matt was hit with the scent of flowers, he quickly realized why when he saw fresh roses, and every other​ detail, meticulously placed throughout the space.

  “It's like something out of architectural digest.”

 “Thank yo- whoaaa!”

 The man jumped. “What?”

 “Take off your shoes,” Violet demanded.

 He chuckled but when he saw her expression, he knew that she was beyond serious. “Okay.” Matt pulled off his dirty Converse and Violet groaned at his mismatched​ socks.

 “Are you purposefully trying to ruin my life?”

 “What'd I do now?”

 “Your socks. They come in pairs for a reason.”

 “Oh. I'm what they call a sock rebel,” he said with a wink.

 Violet rolled her eyes as she popped open a large Ziploc bag and handed it to Matt. “Your shoes go in there, then in this closet.”

 “Why do they need to be in a bag if they're going in the closet?”

 “Because I said so!”

 He defensively raised his hands. “Alright, alright.” The man obliged, opened the closet and he couldn't believe the organization in the small space. The raincoats and umbrellas that hung​ were coded by color and style and the pale pink boxes that held all of the miscellaneous objects  were all lined up, seemingly at perfect ninety degree angles. “Holy shit, Martha Stewart,” he said as placed his shoes on the floor of the closet before closing it.

 She gasped. “Are you calling me old?!”

 “I'm calling you organized. The closets at my place in LA could be featured on Hoarders: Buried Alive.”

 The woman wrinkled her nose at the thought before quickly pushing the imagery​ to the forbidden part of her brain. “Okay, I guess I'll give you a tour.” The woman pulled off her own heels and carefully held them in her hand as she led Matt into the kitchen where the color scheme and smell of fresh flowers continued.

 “Do you even cook in here?” Matt asked in disbelief.

 “Yes. Wait, no...well, sometimes! Don't question me.”

 “Yes, Ma'am.”

 The woman turned on her heel and showed him the rest of the apartment. “This is my office.”

 “Your office is nicer than my entire house back in LA.”

 The woman scoffed. “Seriously? This room is such a mess!”

 “Mess?! Where?!”

 “There’s no rug! The old one had a snag so this room is under construction while I look for the perfect replacement. For your safety, don't go in there.”

 Matt smiled as he shook his head and followed Violet to the next door. “This is the public bathroom.”

 “What do you mean public?”

 “I have my own bathroom in my bedroom.”

 “Oh, yeah, duh. But this bathroom looks like an en suite to me! There's fancy plumbing and even sparkles in the title.”

 “Well, it's the public bathroom, of course you want it to be nice. Moving on. The door down there is my bedroom. It's 1000% off limits. Understood?”

 Matt nodded but he couldn't stop the curious thoughts​ of what could be behind the solid wood door. What if it's bondage and fetish gear? he asked himself before letting out an immature giggle.

 The woman shot him a glare. “What's so funny?”

 “Nothing.”

 She didn't believe him but she didn't care enough to ask as she opened the last door. “The guest room is where you'll stay.”

 Matt's jaw practically hit the floor.

 “The most I was hoping for was the couch! This is amazing!”

 “Ew, there's no way I'd let anyone sleep on my couch. It's Ethan Allen.”

 The man couldn't help but drop his suitcase and pull the woman into an unauthorized hug. “Thank you.”

 “Ugh, get off of me, Matthew! You have homelessness on you!”

 Matt quickly released her. “Sorry. I'm just really grateful.”

 “Well, don't get used to it, this is just until you get your job. Besides, this room will eventually be turned into the nursery.”

 “Aw. The baby will love it.”

 “Yes, he will,” she replied, stifling a yawn.

 “Speaking of the baby…can I have one of the ultrasound pictures​?” Violet exhaled as she pulled the envelope from her purse. After retrieving a photo, she handed it to an eager Matt. “Thank you.”

 “Mhm. Please, shower before you even touch that bed.” She stepped out of the room and pushed open a sliding door that concealed the washer, dryer and fresh linens. She placed her hand on the washer. “Not sure if you know what this is, but it's my humanly obligation to tell you.”

 “Ha-ha.”

 She smirked before yawning. “Uhh, I'm turning in for the night. If you need anything... don't bother me.”

 “I have everything I need,” he assured. “Goodnight.”

 The woman entered her bedroom at the end of the hall and locked the door for good measure.

 “Wow,” Matt exhaled, still taking in the beauty of the room as he began to unpack and settle into his temporary home.

---

With his pajamas in hand, Matt grabbed a clean towel from the linen closet before he made his way to the bathroom. He placed his things on the counter and turned to face the shower, scratching his head in confusion as he pondered why there were five knobs. The man shrugged prior to turning the one labeled 'H’. Matt undressed,  tossed his dirty clothes to the floor, and stepped into the glass framed steam box.

 “Shit, shit, shit,” he let out when the unbelievably hot water hit him. The man quickly adjusted the temperature with the knob labeled 'C’. When the water was just right, Matt chuckled when he saw the miniature bottles of shampoo, conditioner, and body wash that Violet had provided for her guests. “Thank you for staying at hotel Chachki,” the man mocked in a high-pitched voice as he grabbed the shampoo. He squeezed a glob onto the top of his head and worked that into a lather. “Under da seaaa, under da seaaaa,” Matt sang as curiosity sank in. The man turned one of the unfamiliar knobs and instantly regretted it as high-speed jets of water began to shoot out from every direction, hitting him so hard that it stung. “Holy fuck!” Matt quickly attempted to shut off the stream but shampoo subs were now sliding down his forehead and right into his eyes. “Ahhhh! What the fu- owwwww!” The man panicked as his eyes and skin were ignited. “Violetttt! I need helpppp!”

Tucked firmly into bed, Violet's eyebrows furrowed when she thought she heard screaming. The woman turned the volume down on her television to make sure that she wasn't hallucinating.

 “Violettttttttt!” Matt garbled. “What the actual fuck,” she said as she tossed  back the covers and climbed out of bed. She pulled on her pink fur trimmed chiffon robe and slid her feet into the matching slippers before making her way to where the calls were emanating from. “What's wrong with you, Matthew?!” the woman shouted from the other side of the door.

 “I can't turn off the water because I have soap in my eyes!”

 “Oh...my...God. What a fucking toddler,” she grumbled. “And what do you want me to do about it?!”

 “Turn off the shootie things and hand me a towel, please!”

 Violet rolled her eyes and reluctantly turned the unlocked, silver door handle. The first thing that the woman noticed was the dirty clothing carelessly​ tossed onto the floor and not in the hamper like it should be. She cautiously tiptoed over the man's shirt and boxers as she made her way to the shower door. Violet slid it open and fanned the gush of steam away from her face as she turned off the assaulting water.

 “Oh, thank you so much,” Matt breathlessly​ panted. “What the hell was that?!”

 “I know you've never showered before, but those are called body jets.”

 “More like body destroyers​! It felt like needles against my skin.”

  Reluctant to look until now, Violet finally gazed over Matt's flushed, bright crimson skin naturally​ stopping at his crotch which left her virtually​ speechless. Well, now I see why my vagina didn't have any complaints​, she said to herself before shaking her head to vanquish the senseless thought. I'm impressed...but not that impressed.

 “Can I have a towel, please?” Matt whimpered as he rubbed his eyes.

 Violet cleared her throat. “It probably stung because you didn't adjust the temperature.” She snatched the towel off of the counter and aggressively shoved it against his chest. “And I told you not to bother me! If you don't know how a shower works then stick to the basics!”

 The man attempted to get his pain to subside by pressing the cotton against his face. “I was curioussss.”

 “Curiosity killed the fucking cat.”

 “I can tell!” She scoffed and there was an awkward silence before Matt spoke again. “Are you looking at my dick?” he asked smugly before he self-consciously​ turned around. “My goodies, my goodies, my goodies, not my goodies!” he sang dramatically​.

 Violet scowled, and in retaliation, she turned the body jets back on full blast.

 “Oww! Fuck! Fuck! Owwwww! Violet, please turn it off!”

 “Figure it out yourself!” she shouted before storming out of the room. Once she made it back into bed, she immediately called her best friend.

 “Hello?” Naomi answered.

 “Kill...me...now,” the woman groaned.

 “Noooo. No murdering is not allowed until the baby is at least thirty-eight weeks, that way I know he'll have a good chance of surviving when he gets cut out of your stomach.”

 “Ughh,” Violet whimpered.

 “What's up, boo?”

 “Can I make a long story short?”

 “That's always preferred.”

 “Soooo, as I left dinner tonight, I drove past the New York homeless center and saw Matthew in line. Losing my shit as I drove home, I couldn't understand why my baby’s father would be in line with the homeless so I got back in my car and went there.”

 “To the homeless shelter?!”

 “Yes!”

 “Oh my God, are you okay?! Did they touch you?!”

 “I’m fine. Fortunately, I was not​ touched by a hobo.”

Naomi sighed in relief. “Thank God. So, why was Matthew there?!’

 “Apparently he hasn't been staying at the Motel 6, he ran out of money three days ago and was coming back to the parking lot to save face whenever I came around.”

 “How fucking shady. So when does he go back to LA?”

 Violet pursed her lips. “Yeahhhh...about that…”

 “What?”

 “He has an interview in the morning so I sorta, kinda agreed to let him spend the night here.”

 Naomi gasped. “Vi!”

 “I knowwww. I know, I know.”

 “And if he gets the job?”

 “Then he'll find his own place.”

 “And if he doesn't get the job?”

 “Then he goes back to LA!”

 “Aww, I'll miss him. He's cute,” she giggled.

 Violet scoffed. “In what universe?”

 “Oh, come on, Vi! All he needs is a makeover!”

 “He's beyond help.”

 “He wasn't beyond help when you fucked him.”

 The woman gasped. “You shady bitch.”

 Naomi blew a kiss into the receiver.

 “So guess what...”

 “Your feet are too swollen to fit your lavender Miu Mius so you have to give them to me?”

 “As if! You'd like that,” she laughed, “but no. I saw Matthew's​ penis while sober.”

 “So you are fucking him! I knew you'd never allow him to stay there as a 'good deed’.”

 “Ew, please stop, you're going to make me puke. No, I'm not...fucking him. He was struggling with the body jets in the shower so I had to turn them off.”

 Naomi scoffed. “Really? I love the jetssss.”

 “Well, your friend got soap in his eyes and couldn't even manage to turn them off. And you know my showers get really hot so they just beat his ass until he was all lobster red.”

 She cackled. “That's amazing. So is the dick just as awesome as you remember?”

 “Fuck all the way off.” There was a pause before Violet felt the need to defend herself. “There was nothing amazing about it. It was quite average.”

 “How disappointing​.”

 “Truly. How is Raven feeling?”

 Naomi cleared her throat. “She's fine. She crashed on the couch about an hour ago.”

 “Poor thing.”

 “Yeah..” she exhaled just as Violet yawned.

 “Well, I'll see you in the morning. I'm so exhausted.”

 “Alright, mama bear. Love you.”

 “Aww, I love thatttt. I love you too.”

 “Goodnight.”

 The woman hung up and placed her phone on the nightstand, sliding in the charger before applying her silk eye mask that had long lashes embroidered onto it for girly humor, and turning off the lamp.

---

Matt managed to get one eye open allowing him to see just enough to reach for one of the knobs and turn it. Instead of the body jets dying down, a stream of hot water began to rain on the man's head. He glanced up and saw the large rainwater nozzle.

 “How many showerheads​ does one shower need?!”

 Before he could become completely boiled, Matt desperately reached for all of the knobs and turned them all in each and every possible direction until all of the water stopped. The man exhaled in relief. “Whenever Violet showers, the country goes through a drought.”

 Matt eagerly exited the glass box as he took his time to fully combat the sting that still bothered his eyes. After his vision had returned, it was blurry yet functioning so the man didn't complain while he rinsed the rest of the soap out his hair in the sink. He also washed the important parts of his body prior to drying himself and wrapping his dirty clothes in the towel. The man pulled on a plain white T-shirt and his favorite pajama pants. Despite being filled with holes, they were Marvel themed so Matt just couldn't bring himself to throw them away.

 Matt gave the washer a glance over, but not wanting to disturb Violet anymore was one of the reasons​ why opted for carrying his dirty clothes into the guest room with him. He placed them on the floor before eagerly hopping onto the bed, squealing as the memory foam molded around his body.

 “Oh my God,” he said, near tears. The bed at the shelter was practically a cardboard nest that, after two nights, had given the man a stiff back. But the way that the cloud-like material cradled his body had the man snoring within minutes.

---

“Push, Vi! Push!” Naomi urged her friend.

 With beads of sweat streaming down her forehead, Violet took a deep breath and pushed.

 The doctor jumped up. “I see the head!”

 Violet was shocked by the familiar voice. “M-Matthew? Wh-What are you doing? You're not a doctor.”

 The man removed his face mask and shrugged. “Doesn't really matter.”

 “Yes it does! You- ooooh!” she groaned out when another contraction hit her.

 “Push!” Matt demanded. Violet had no choice but to oblige as she bared down everything she had into her pelvis. As the baby slid out, Matt grabbed and held the newborn. “It's a boy!” When he turned to show Violet their son, the woman screamed in horror at the baby who was fully dressed in cargo pants and a Spider-Man t-shirt.

 “He looks just like me!” Matt cheered.

 “Ahhhhhh!”

---

Violet was startled awake by the nightmare. She removed her eye mask and checked the time on her phone.

 “4:30,” she groaned. Her alarm was set for 5:00 a.m., but after a dream like that she knew that going back to sleep wasn't an option. The woman pushed herself out of bed and began her daily ritual of stretching prior to starting her hygiene and beauty regimen. Afterwards, the woman sauntered to the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. Her usual breakfast consisted of coffee and a piece of toast but since being pregnant, Violet ate whatever she could get her hands on.

 Violet grabbed a slice of cheddar cheese and shoved it into her mouth prior to grabbing the peanut butter and a dill pickle. The woman scooped a spoonful of crunchy peanut butter into her mouth while she pondered. “Strawberry oatmeal...or blueberry oatmeal? Let's do both.” She took a bite out of the pickle, then another bite of the pickle after it'd been dipped in the peanut butter and began pulling out the things she needed to make her breakfast.

 When she was finished eating, Violet applied her makeup then made her way into her favorite part of her home: the walk in closet.

 She carefully sifted through her fabulous selection of garments prior to settling on a flattering ash grey pantsuit that was bound to hide her fastly growing belly. After checking the time, Violet used her spare minutes to flat iron her hair. “She is beat todayyyy,” the woman said as she winked at her reflection prior to exiting the room. Violet got all the way to the front door before something compelled her to check on Matthew.

 The woman reluctantly entered her guest room and saw the snoring man swaddled in the fluffy blankets. She turned to leave, but the bundle of dirty clothes on the floor made her skin crawl. “Matthew!” The man simply stirred in his sleep and turned on his side, forcing the woman to storm over and shove him. “Matthew!”

 “Hmm?” he grumbled as he sat up.

 “Why are there dirty clothes on the floor?!”

 “Um..oh yeah, I didn't want to disturb you with the noise of the washer.”

 “Then why not just leave them in the barrel?! If anything, the sound of clean clothes being conceived would've lulled me to sleep!” “I didn't know. I'm sorry.”

 She huffed. “Well, clean it up. What time is your interview?”

 “Eight.”

 Violet checked the time. “It's seven thirty-two​,” she informed, hiding her joy over the man's tardiness.

 “Are you serious?!” he exclaimed as he jumped out of bed.

 “Are you fucking kidding me?!” the woman shouted. “What are those pajamas?!”

 Matt paused as he looked down. “They're comfortableee.”

 “They're falling apart!”

 “I sleep in them! Why would I need to look good while I sleep?!”

 “So that you don't terrify the person that has to wake up next to you in the morning!”

 “Well, good fucking thing I don't have to worry about that!”

 Without a response, Violet huffed in aggravation. “Clean up this mess!” she shouted prior to storming out of the room.

 Matt quickly followed her. “Wait, are you leaving?”

 “Yes! Unlike you, I have a job!”

 “Well, I'm trying to get one today! I just need you to tell me how to leave your house, like- I don't have a key so what do you want me to do?”

 Violet thought for a moment and she definitely didn't want to give the man a key. “Lock the door when you leave. I’ll come back on my lunch break.” “Alright...um...have a nice day at work.”

 The woman rolled her eyes as she headed out of the door leaving Matt to rush and prepare for his butcher shop interview.

---

Naomi was sitting at her kitchen counter, flipping through Vogue magazine as she sipped her coffee when a disheveled Raven rounded the corner. “Good morning,” Naomi chirped.

 “Morning,” she rasped.

 She giggled. “Are you hungover?”

 “Surprisingly no.”

 “Oh...well, do you remember anything from last night?”

 Raven remembered​ everything. “No,” she lied. “I was pretty toasted.”

 “Yeah…I could tell.”

 “Did I do something stupid?”

 “Yes!”

 Her heart sank. “What?”

 “You wanted to drive your car home. You were really drunk and I wasn't having it.”

 “Oh…” she said. “Silly me.”

 “Silly you.” There was a short pause. “So, you ready to go get your car?”

 Raven nodded and when Naomi smiled, she looked away.

 Naomi's grin faded. The woman took a deep breath, pushed all conflicting thoughts to the back of her mind and grabbed her keys. After an awkward goodbye and 'see you at work’ she pulled out of the parking lot. By nearly burning out the copy machine by making useless copies and taking unnecessary potty breaks, she effectively​ avoided the other woman until lunchtime, and by then all had been forgotten. Or so she thought.

---

Violet laughed over lunch with her friends​ without a care in the world until the trio had to return to work.

---

By the time Violet returned home that day, the sun was setting. She hadn't thought about Matt until she saw the man sleeping in the fetal position on her doorstep. The woman's heart dropped. Not because she felt bad, but because she was horrified by what her neighbors might think. She quickly rushed over and nudged his leg with the tip of her high heel.

 “Matthew!” She hissed. “Get off of the floor now!”

 The exhausted man sat up. “I've been waiting hours for you.”

 “I don't care! Get up! You look like a thirty year old abandoned child!”

 Completely annoyed, the man stood and pressed his back against the wall as Violet unlocked the door. After she did, the woman glanced in both directions and exhaled in relief that the coast was clear before scurrying into the abode. Matt stormed in past her.

 “Hey! Take off your shoes!”

 Matt snatched his Converse off of his feet, stomped to the closet and shoved his shoes into the Ziploc bag.

 She gasped. “You wore Converse to an interview?” The woman's tone was shockingly non-judgemental.

 “They're the only shoes that I have.”

 “And you think that they'll hire you with crunchy footwear and a Battyman t-shirt?” she asked, slightly hopeful that the man had arrived late and epically failed at his interview.

 “Yes, because I got the job.”

 The woman's jaw dropped. “Seriously?”

 Matt nodded. “I guess it doesn't take much to  chop meat,” he sighed as he made his way to the couch. Before his ass could even touch the cushion, Violet shouted.

 “Don't sit on my couch!

 “Where the fuck can I sit then, Violet?!” Matt exploded.

 “Anywhere but my couch!”

 “Do you even let anyone sit on the couch?!”

 “I let everyone sit on it but you!”

 Matt was hurt by the words. “If you're so disgusted by me, why didn't you just let me stay at the shelter?”

 “Because,” she exhaled before pausing, “...I don't want my child to grow up embarrassed of you,” she said quietly. “The fact that the words 'my father stayed at a homeless shelter once’ could be uttered by my baby and have there be a semblance of truth to it, makes me sick to my stomach.”

 “But imagine all of the famous people that were homeless at some point. Jennifer Lopez, Michael Oher- even fucking Steve Jobs! And look at them now! You act like I'm some crackhead who is homeless because he lost everything after selling it!”

 “Yeah, well the difference between them and you is that they actually have something going for themselves! At least the crackhead would have something to lose! You have nothing!”

 “I had a whole life before I moved out here!”

 “You had eight dollars and a pizza coupon!”

 “Then just fucking off the kid now because everything about me will shame it! Spare it while you can!” Matt regretted saying the words, but he was so fed up and backed into a corner that he felt as if he had no choice. He watched the woman's expression go from rage to a pout to tear filled. “Violet... I-”

 “Please don't talk to me,” she wheezed. Violet reached for something stable to hold onto as her​ breathing became labored. She sniffled and did her best to avoid the panic attack, but as the man stared at her through a confused gaze, it was inevitable. “I-I-I-”

 “Whoa, are you okay?” Matt asked as placed a hand on her shoulder. “Are you asthmatic?”

 Violet snatched​ away so hard that she nearly fell over. “Don't t-t-toouch me.”

 Matt gave the woman breathing room while she swiftly began to shuffle through her purse. Violet retrieved her cell phone and called the first number on her speed dial: Naomi.

 Her friend answered after the first ring. “Hey, Vi.”

 Violet wheezed. “Hi.”

 Naomi instantly recognized her tone. “Oh no, what happened?”

 “Ma-Mat-”

 “Ugh, of course he's the problem. I'll be right over. Do I have to stay on the line?”

 “N-N-”

 “Okay. Well just take deep breaths, Vi. I'm on my way.” She hung up and turned to her date. “Bob, I'm really sorry, I have to go.”

 “Whatttt?” the man asked. “Did I do something wrong? Does my breath stink?”

 She laughed. “No, you're amazing, but my sister is having a she-mergency.”

 “Uh oh. That's serious.”

 “Yeah. But I had so much fun making it to the top of the city with you,” she said bashfully.

 “Oh, damn, I love how you worded that.”

 She giggled.

 “So, when can I see you again?”

 “Tomorrow?”

 “Sounds great to me. I'll count down the hours.”

 Naomi smiled and when Bob leaned in for a kiss, she eagerly accepted, allowing their lips to softly connect.

 “Wow,” Bob exhaled. “Now I’ll count down the second​s.”

 The woman laughed. “See you later.” She turned on her heel and hailed a cab with the man watching her ass all the while.

 “Damn,” he said with a whistle as he mindlessly stepped off the curb towards traffic. The honking cars snapped him back to reality. Bob leaped back onto the sidewalk and laughed. “She has an ass worth getting ran over for.”

---

Naomi used the key that Violet had given her to enter her friend's condo. Violet clung to the armrest of the sofa while she did her best to keep her breathing steady as Matt steadily tried to figure out what was wrong despite being ignored.

 “Do you need water?” he desperately asked.

 “Move,” Naomi ordered, pushing him to the side before she knelt to the floor in front of her friend. She grabbed her hand. “Deep breath in. Deep breath out. What's happened, Vi?”

 Violet shot Matt a glare and Naomi followed her eye line, adding a scowl of her own. “What did you do?” she ordered.

 “Nothing! We were having a discussion on how much she hates me and I asked her why didn't she just abort the baby so that she didn't have to deal with me anymore.”

 “You did what?!”

 “What?!”

 “You want her to get an abortion?! Even after seeing the baby suck his thumb?!”

 “An abortion is the last thing I want! But if she's going to make this situation so difficult, maybe ending​ this and starting over with someone who doesn't make her nauseous would help.”

 “You're being really selfish.”

 “Wha- how?!”

 “You got her pregnant and now you just want to use that abortion suggestion to get out of it.”

 “If I wanted out of it, I would've stayed in LA!”

 There was a short pause. “True,” Naomi admitted. “But you're living off of her so maybe it's best if you just go home until the baby is born and-”

 “I'm not living off of her! She invited me to stay until I got settled in New York which won't take long since I got a job today. I'll be in my own place the second that I get paid.”

 “Oh. Um…well-”

 Out of sheer aggravation, Matt slapped his hand against the wall. “It's fifty percent my kid, damn it! Your options are getting rid of it, which gets rid of me or keeping it and dealing with me being a presence in both your lives for the next eighteen years! Which is it?!”

 Violet finally spoke. “I love my baby more than I despise you. No matter who his father is, he'll have me and he'll be taken care of.”

 “Well, I'm his father and I don't want him to grow up with parents that hate each other. So, just give me a chance for you not to hate me?”

 “So you want me to lie?”

 “Please do.”

 The woman thought long and hard. “Okay,” was her barely audible response. “I guess I can manage that.”

 Matt grinned.

 “My counseling sessions are amazing,” Naomi chirped as she stood. “I'd better call Bob.”

 “Oh, nooo. I totally forget that you had a date today!” Violet gasped. “I’m sorry.”

 “Oh, hush. Sisters before misters. Always.”

 “Did you at least have a good time?”

 “Yes! It was amazingggg​. He's so cute and he's such a gentlemannn.” As the woman spoke, Violet was reminded of when the woman had her first crush in middle school.

 “Aww, he makes you squeal like you're 13 again! Have you had sex with him?”

 “Oh my God, noooo. I'm not ready for all of that yet. I mean, I don't want to be stuck knocked up like you,” she teased. Violet rolled her eyes. “No,  but seriously, every guy that I've been with finds out that I'm trans and either treats me like a novelty item or decides to break it off. And with Bob, I don't want either of those things to happen.”

 “You're transnational?” Matt asked.

 “No, she's transparent,” Violet sarcastically snapped back.

 “Vi, be nice. I'm a transwoman.”

 “Oh...Oh! Okay.”

 “Just okay?”

 “What? Do you want a cookie for being a woman?”

 Initially taken aback by the man's candidness, Naomi quickly found it refreshing that the man accepted that she was a woman and that was that. “No, I don't request a cookie simply for being a woman.”

 “I dooo,” Violet said with a pout.

 “What kind of cookie?” Matt asked.

 “Any kindddd.”

 “I could...make you some,” he suggested.

 Violet was surprised. “You cook?”

 “As a kid, I had to look out for myself a lot so cooking definitely became a survival skill. And baking, well...ya know, weed brownies.” The women shared a look and Matt was quick to defend himself. “Hey, the same principles apply.”

 “I don't care. Just make me cookies,” Violet demanded.

 “I’ll see what you have in here.”

 It didn't occur to Violet that Matt had to use her beloved kitchen to follow through with her request until the man entered the room and began to sift through her cabinets. Her mind quickly envisioned him spilling flour everywhere, breaking glasses and doing everything that he could to destroy her new favorite room in the house.

 “Well, I'm going to get going,” Naomi said.

 “Yeah, okay, love you, call me when you get home, bye,” Violet rushed as skittered into the kitchen to find Matt disturbing the harmony of her meticulous organization. “Okay, Matthew. You need to tell me what you're doing, step by step or I swear I'll have a panic attack.” The woman pulled a Clorox wipe from the travel pack that she carried in her purse for emergencies.

 “I am getting the ingredients. You have everything for sugar cookies, peanut butter cookies, ch-”

 “Peanut butter, please.”

 Matt chuckled. “Peanut butter it is.” The man returned to the pantry. “I can't get over how organized this pantry is.”

 “Organization is what makes the world go 'round,” the woman said as she settled onto one of the seats at the bar, watching the man as he hunted for supplies in the each drawer and cabinet.  Each touch of a handle or the counter made the woman so uncomfortable that she quickly stood and trailed his every move with a swipe of her disinfectant wipe.

 Matt paused. “What are you doing?”

 “Cleaning the fingerprints,” she said casually as she scrubbed.

 The man gave a blank stare before shrugging. “Okay. Where is the mixer?”

 “What's that?”

 “Um... it's like a handheld thing that you stick metal stirrers into and it mixes batters and things.”

 Violet's eyebrows furrowed as she opened the cabinet that contained things she'd labeled as 'useless kitchen gadgets’. “Is it one of these?”

 Matt walked over. “Yeah, this!” he said as he grabbed the unopened box.

 “Yayyy​,” she celebrated before wiping the cabinet handles prior to watching as Matt opened the box. He removed the mixer and placed it's cardboard place holder onto the counter. Violet grabbed it, folded it as small as she possibly could then placed it in the recycle bin that was concealed within a drawer itself.

 “See, these are the metal stir-thingies that I was talking about,” he informed as he held up the tools.

 “Ohhh, okay. I remember seeing them as a child but I've never used them before.”

 He chuckled. “I can tell. I need to wash them.”

 “Let me!” she said eagerly.

 Matt handed them over. He couldn't believe how excited the woman seemed to be as she filled the entire​ sink with soap and water. She even hummed as she retrieved the bleach and poured a generous dollop into the mix. The man frowned. “Is that healthy for you to be doing?”

 “Washing dishes?”

 “Using bleach.”

 “Of course it is, Matthew. How else am I supposed to kill the germs?”

 “I think soap and hot water would've sufficed​. I mean, as a pregnant woman, is bleach something that you should be handling?”

 “Of course! Pregnant women need safely from the germs more than anyone.”

 Matt rolled his eyes and confiscated the chemical.

 “Thanks,” she replied. “Put it in the spot labeled ‘bleach’ in the closet.”

 “You have your cleaning closet labeled?”

 “Yes.”

 “Why?”

 “Because it makes me happy, Matthew!” she exploded. “Why do you wear roadkill?!”

 The man defensively raised his hands. “Just asking.” Psycho, he mouthed when he walked away. When Matt returned, he saw Violet pulling on the pink elbow length rubber gloves before plunging her hands into the water.

 “If your eyes aren't burning, then you're not doing it right. That's my motto,” she said as began to scrub the prongs.

 Matt was worried but he didn't see a point in voicing his opinion again as he waited for the woman to finish. Fifteen minutes later, she finally handed him the sanitized tools.

 “It's been eighty-four yearssss,” he mocked in an elderly tone.

 “Stop complaining and make the cookies!”

 “Yes, ma'am.”

 Matt plopped the ingredients into the bowl and mixed them while Violet watched in amazement as the fluffy dough swirled around. “Can I taste it?”

 “No.”

 The woman frowned. “Why not?”

 “Because it has raw eggs and that's not good for you or the baby.”

 She scoffed. “Who told you that?”

 “It's common knowledge.”

 “But I want ittttt,” she whined.

 Matt was taken aback by the usually stoic woman's childlike demeanor. “Violet, it'll make you sick.”

 “I only want a littleeee.”

 The man knew that he wouldn't win. “Okay,” he sighed.

 Violet grabbed a spoon and scooped up a miniscule amount of the dough before placing it in her mouth. “It’s really good.”

 “I’m glad you think so.”

 “I want more.”

 When she went to scoop more, Matt pulled the bowl away. “You won't have any left for the cookies!”

 “Then hurry up and make them!”

 “I could if you'd stop trying to be the cookie dough monster!” She scoffed but had nothing further to say as she watched Matt grab a piece of dough with his bare hands and began to roll it in between his palms.

 “Ewww!”

 “What?”

 “Using your bare hands! That's not sanitary!”

 “I washed my hands.”

 “I don't care! Skin cells are still flaking off into the dough! You need gloves.”

 “Are you gonna give me some?”

 “Of course. What color would you like?” she asked as she made her way to her supply closet.

 Matt didn't think she was serious so he threw out the most random shade he could think of. “How about chartreuse?”

 “Ooo, pretty,” she chirped as she scanned through her rubber glove collection before pulling out the requested​ shade. The man wasn't surprised that she actually had the yellow-green gloves.

 What else would I expect from someone who has their forks and spoons labeled? he asked himself.

 “Throw that dough away,” Violet ordered when she rounded the corner.

 Matt obeyed as he opened the drawer that contained the bins, he lifted his arm to toss the dough ball when the woman objected.

 “You have to put it in a baggie first!”

 “To throw it away?!”

 “Yes! I don't want bugs!”

 “Alright, Violet,” he sighed in exasperation. “Where are the baggies?”

 The woman rushed to the other side of the room, grabbed a small Ziploc bag from it's labeled spot and handed it to the man. “You are... nevermind,” he exhaled as he bagged the dough, sealed the bag and held it up for Violet's approval. “Is that okay?” The woman nodded so Matt dropped it in the bin before she handed him the gloves. “Have you ever seen Serial Mom?”

 “No.”

 He pursed his lips to fight the smile. “Oh. Well, you kinda remind me of the main character.”

 “Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”

 “Good,” he lied. “She is very organized and likes to have her way.”

 “Oh, that does sound like me.”

 “And she murders people when they don't do what she wants,” he muttered under his breath.

 “Excuse me?”

 “Nothing,” the man chirped as he pulled on his gloves. He scooped and balled mounds of dough and placed it on the parchment paper covered cookie sheet that Violet had provided. “I need a fork.”

 “Why?”

 “To do the design.”

 “Ooh! The little squares?”

 “Yeah.”

 Violet retrieved a fork, handed it to the man and watched as he pressed it into the cookie. “Boom. Good ole fashioned peanut butter cookies.”

 “Aww, I want to tryyy.”

 Matt smiled at the woman's enthusiasm when he handed her the fork and she rushed around the counter. “Like this?”

 The man adjusted the angle she held the fork. “Now push down.”

 Violet obliged and squealed. “Oh my goodnesssss. How squishy! I wanna do them all.”

 Matt laughed. “Knock yourself out.” Violet smushed the next cookie to a pulp. “Don't push down so hard,” he urged.

 “I can't help myself. This is kind of therapeutic.”

 The man smiled. He couldn't​ help but find the woman adorable as she aggressively​ scored each piece of dough. “Done.”

 “You done mutilating these cookies?”

 She nodded. “I just imagined that the dough was your face.”

 “Damn...show me how you squish it again. It's kind of a turn on.”

 Violet scoffed. “Just bake them already!”

 “You were the one who- I- ugh,” he groaned in exasperation as he grabbed the pan, walked it to the preheated oven and slid them in.

 “How long do they take to bake?”

 “About ten minutes.”

 “Ten?!”

 “Yes, ma'am.”

 “Ugh, fine. In the meantime, I'll go get out of my work clothes.”

 “Okay,” he replied, watching the woman's ass in her perfectly tailored trousers as she walked away. 

---

Violet removed her makeup and took a quick shower prior to dressing in her favorite silk negligee. She was in the middle of blow drying her hair when the smell of warm peanut butter hit her nose. The woman was worried that the man had overbaked the batch of cookies. She bolted out of her room, down the hall and into the kitchen.

 “Did you burn them?” Violet breathlessly panted.

 Matt glanced at her and did a double take as he took in her entire appearance. From her fresh face and gently tousled hair to the way the silk clung to her small frame and slightly protruding belly. He cleared his throat. “Um, no... they're not burnt. Wow,” he exhaled.

 “Wow, what?”

 “I don't think I've ever seen you without that stuff on your face.”

 “Makeup,” she gasped, completely embarrassed as she turned around.

 “Hey, you don't look too bad.”

 Violet scowled. “I don't look 'too bad’?”

 “No, not at all.”

 The woman scoffed and quickly remembered that the man who had literal trash in his wardrobe was not qualified to judge her appearance. She turned around. “Give me my cookies.” The man slid the now cooled tray across the counter. “What the hell?! These look like lumpy pancakes!”

 “Well, what did you expect?! You smashed the dough!”

 “But I thought cookies got bigger when they baked.”

“Yeah, they spread. They don't rise.”

 The woman groaned but grabbed one of the peanut butter discs and took a bite. “They don't taste too bad,” she said, giving the man a dose of his own critical words.

 Matt rolled his eyes.

 “I’m literally starving,” Violet mumbled as she turned towards the refrigerator.

 The man clutched his stomach. To cope with the lack of funds, he'd resorted to fasting over the last few days and the emptiness that was suddenly hitting him was almost overbearing.

 “Do you want to cook something?” the woman asked Matt just as her doorbell rang. “Who the hell is at my house unannounced?” she fumed, grabbing another cookie before she made her way to the front door. Violet peered through the peephole, gasped, and quickly opened the door. “Mom!”

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