#was complaining that my upstairs neighbours have a kid that is a cross between a banshee and an elephant

[sleekervae]

The Neighbour [1.6]

Masterlist

Trigger Warning: fluff, just lots of fluff, and Emerson being a cranky bitch in the morning 😅

Water spattered across the ground, collecting soap suds and bubbles and taking it down the brief journey to the waterfall down the sewer grate. Remington gripped the nozzle of the hose, grumbling to himself when he saw sparing spots of dirt left in the crevices of his car wheels. He squeezed the spring on the hose, unleashing another blast of cold water that ricocheted off the metal and splattered over Eva while she relathered the mitt in the soap bucket.

"Hey!" she nearly jumped out of her skin from the shock, and despite the heat the cold wasn't a welcomed surprise.

"Sorry, babe," Remington chuckled sheepishly, continued to spray down the tires and aiming the nozzle away from Eva, "I didn't think getting dirt off tires was going to be a chore in itself,"

Eva shrugged, wiping the droplets off her skin and she started lathering the roof of his 69 Mustang with the wash mitt, "Well, you wanted to try hand-washing the car instead of... you know... taking it to a car wash," she pointed out, "The big spinny brushes and rollers make it look easy,"

"But this is a classic car!" he replied, "All the experts say you have to hand-wash classic cars. They're too delicate for the big machinery. Besides, this is a fun summer thing to do; wash a car on our own,"

Eva smirked, "You also just like seeing me in a bathing suit. That's why you asked for my help, right?"

"Obviously," Remington nodded with a smirk of his own, "But you didn't get the memo," he motioned to her grey t-shirt and shorts.

"Well, why aren't you in a bathing suit, then?" she asked, pressing against the driver door to reach the middle of the roof.

Remington glanced at his own muscle tee and shorts, shrugging nonchalantly, "These are my swim shorts. Would it make you feel better if I took my shirt off?"

Eva rolled her eyes, "Wash the dirt out of the tires, Rem," she shook her head, grinning regardless.

He did as he was told for a brief moment, waiting until Eva came back around with the bucket before "accidentally" splashing her with the water. She froze at the impact, the mitt splattering across the ground and her jaw fell open from the shock. Remington feigned innocence, tittering under his breath.

Annoyed, Eva grabbed the soapy mitt and tried to whack him with it in retaliation, sparking an all out water fight between them. More water splashed across the road and the soap bucket was within an inch of its life from being knocked over, and the echo of their laughter carried through the normally quiet and distant neighbourhood.

A woman a few houses over had popped out to hang her laundry on her clothes line, and upon hearing the commotion glanced down the street, in shock and awe to find a young couple goofing off with a hose and a soap mitt. She smiled with endearment, the infectious and overwhelming joy the two of them radiated was something that was definitely missing from this tragic year.

Remington dropped his hose and made a grab for Eva, sweeping her off her feet and placing her on the hood of the car. Her excitement had drained into quiet, nervous giggles, her hair and clothes near fully soaked in water, and surely he looked just as much of a mess as she did. He brushed her wet hair from her face with his cold fingers, her lips still radiating warmth as he kissed her, neither of them caring that they were packing the PDA.

"You bitch, I just washed my hair," she chuckled against his lips, trying to feign annoyance and failing miserably.

He smirked in that devilish manner that he knew drove her wild, "I'll just have to clean you up,"

There was a sudden loud scraping noise, and from the front window upstairs Emerson stuck his head out, clearly having just rolled out of bed as his hair was a messy nest and his eyes were heavy.

"Hey!" he called down to them, "You're supposed to be washing the car! Not each other!"

Remington glared up at him, "Well, that's going to come after!" he called back.

"Rem!" Eva smacked his chest.

"Did you just wake up?" Remington asked his brother, "It's after eleven!"

"Why are you surprised at this point? You should be worried if I don't sleep in," Emerson rolled his eyes, "Just don't have sex on the car! We don't want to be those neighbours,"

Eva's face went bright red, "Go back to bed, Emerson!"

The younger drummer shrugged, going to close his window, "You don't have to tell me twice,"

Remington just shook his head as the bedroom window was shut and the curtains drawn, "That kid sleeps more than a fucking koala,"

Eva chuckled as she jumped back onto the road, "Well, c'mon. Break time's over and the tires won't clean themselves,"

The Mustang was finally cleaned -- and Remington made good on his promise to help Eva "clean" up. It went without saying that Eva was a little more open to shower sex after that afternoon. She finished tying back her wet hair into a short ponytail, blushing in the mirror when she saw the faint discoloration spots on her neck. It wasn't just the hickeys that put her in a good mood, it was the sparkle in her eyes, the flush in her chest, the all around happiness that exuded through her from the folds of her ears to the ends of her toes.

Her phone began to vibrate on the counter where she'd left it, and she rolled her eyes once again when she saw the Blocked Caller ID pop up. She declined the call.

Her bare feet swept across the cold hardwood floor as she ventured back into the bedroom. Remington was sat on his bed, his guitar in his lap and his phone by his leg. The curtains were drawn back, letting in a beautiful hue of natural blue and white light that filled the atmosphere. When he heard her just outside his door, Remington quickly closed the Notes app on his phone and shoved it under his leg.

Eva sauntered in, glowing as she usual in her now dried shorts and top that had tumbled in the dryer earlier. She took a brief glance out the window, smiling at the sparkling visage of the 69 Mustang on the boulevard.

"Sick ride," she commented.

Remington grinned, "You'd think it was cleaned by professionals," he replied, shifting over as she came to sit beside him. He smelled of his rich shower gel and shampoo, the pink now fading in his ever growing hair, unspiked and swooping just over his forehead. She reached up to run her fingers through the back, scratching gently at his scalp and he closed his eyes and leant into her touch.

"It's getting longer," she smiled warmly.

"I think I'm gonna' grow it out," he said, brushing his own finger through the front, "Last time I had long hair, the school made me cut it off or they'd kick me out,"

Eva rolled her eyes, "Let me guess, you went to Catholic school,"

"Christian. But close enough," he nodded, "How do you feel about vampires with long hair?"

"The same way I feel about vampires with pink hair," she said, reaching up to kiss the tip of his nose.

Remington brushed his fingers through her own hair, the ends coming to stop at the edge of her jaw, "Would you ever grow your hair out?" he asked.

Eva shrugged, "Maybe. But I like it shorter, anyway. It's easier," and she glanced over at the guitar, quick to change the subject, "What are you working on?"

"Just practicing," he plucked dully at the tight strings.

"No new songs?"

"Not yet," meanwhile, the phone under his leg seemed to burn a hole through his shorts, "You ever play the guitar?" and she shook her head, "You want to learn?"

"Sure," she smiled. Remington sat up against the headboard, moving the guitar so she could sit comfortably in his lap. Resting the guitar on her crossed legs, Remington placed his hands over Eva's, kissing her shoulder briefly and he started running through basic chords.

By the better part of half an hour, Eva had the novice knowledge to play the chorus to Ma Chérie. She played with admirability, despite the growing pain of blisters on her fingers. And she certainly wasn't as skilled at Remington or Sebastian, drawing out wonky melodies with frequent pauses in between. Remington found her all the more adorable with every whispered curse that flew out from her lips when she messed up or missed a note.

"You make it look too easy," she whined, pouting as she set the guitar down.

Remington chuckled as she moved out of his lap, curling up on the pillow and staring up at him with her big blue eyes, "You giving up?" he asked teasingly.

"I don't give up," she replied, "I just bitch and complain until I'm motivated enough to try again,"

"Just let me know when you want to try again," he smirked as he pulled the guitar back into his lap, strumming a random chord before glancing at her jovially, "Any requests, my darling?"

She shrugged as she thought it through, tucking her knees to her chest with a giddy smile, "I want you to play me the most romantic Palaye song you can think of," she decided.

"And here I was about to tear into Massacre," he chuckled again, not having to think on the request hard as the perfect song came to mind. Eva watched with intrigue as he readjusted the guitar and the soft twanging melodies drifted from the pass of his fingers over the strings, clearing his throat as he sang in time with the gentle, familiar tune of Stay.

And Eva couldn't have picked a better song.

"I see you for what you are

It's something in your eyes That look past my scars So where do you go when you leave in the night?

'Cause I see those teary eyes"

She stayed still as a stone, just listening, feeling, get lost in his baritone that struck her ears and whittled into her bones, shuddering against the cage of her heart. Her eyes climbed the expanse of his chest exposed by his unzipped hoodie, tracing the ink of his tattoos as sure as she would with her fingers, memorizing him from the drawl in his voice to the small dips in his muscle.

"I am the only hope for you

You are the only hope for me too I just wanted you I just wanted you

So stay this time

So stay This time

This time"

Remington couldn't bring himself to look at her while he sang. He had done it before, at the album party, in the car, he had sung to her plenty of times. This felt different somehow, the promise of a song he wrote well over a year ago striking an important chord with him. Just being with Eva felt like hope, like he had certainty that he would never have to stray back into the dark places his mind would burrow so long as he was drawn to her light. As long as she would stay with him.

Eva lifted her head from the pillow, watching him with those stormy blue eyes and that stunning smile that made his heart rattle within his chest. The music went quiet as they locked eyes, the guitar forgotten entirely as he pulled her into his lap and caught her in a searing kiss, her fingers twisting in his hair and her lips tasting of her sweet lip balm. He could never let her go, for surely he would never be the same if he lost her. And when he pulled back to stare into those beautiful big eyes of her, the adoration, the sheer love reflecting back was enough for Remington to know that she wasn't going anywhere.

They belonged to each other...

[forasecondtherewedwon]

You said less serious was more your thing! So these sound like they could fit together and could be hilarious. Characters involved, Betty, Jughead, Sweet Pea. Lines: 10. “I might have had a few shots.” 29. “It must be hard with your sense of direction, never being able to find your way to a decent pickup line.” 75. “You fainted, straight into my arms. You know, if you wanted my attention, you didn’t have to go to such extremes.” The possibilities!!?!

Since you mentioned an affinity for the Betty/Jughead/Sweet Pea combo, the possibilities have been interesting indeed. I’ve never tried to write a romantic or flirtatious scenario involving three characters before, so I can’t wait to hear what you think, Sarah!

10.“I might have had a few shots.”

AND

29. “Itmust be hard with your sense of direction, never being able to find your way toa decent pickup line.”

AND

75. “Youfainted, straight into my arms. You know, if you wanted my attention, youdidn’t have to go to such extremes.”

The tall boy in the leather jacket stretched out on the dining room rugopened his eyes and groaned loudly.

“Betty,” Jughead directed. “Switch the lights off.”

She shook her head as she crossed the room and slapped the switch. Now thatSweet Pea wasn’t staring up into the blinding overhead light, he seemed morewilling to return to consciousness. He quit groaning.

Betty walked back to lean over Jughead, who was crouched next to his friend.It could have been relief that had Sweet Pea staring up at her boyfriend likethat, or surprise, or weighty respect for his gang leader, but she didn’t thinkso. Before she could consider it further, Sweet Pea spoke.

“Whappened?” he slurred.

Jughead snorted.

“You fainted, straight into my arms. You know, if you wanted my attention,you didn’t have to go to such extremes.”

“Bullshit,” Sweet Pea argued, closing his eyes against Jughead and hiswords.

“Oh no you don’t,” Betty spoke up, wedging her socked foot under the boy’sshoulder and prying upwards to jostle him. “You’re not falling asleep here.It’ll scare the hell out of my mom in the morning.”

Alice knew Sweet Pea was here, of course, but she’d be expecting him tosleep in Polly’s bedroom, where he was currently bunking with Jughead. Ithadn’t taken long for Fred Andrews’ friends and neighbours to convince him hemight’ve overextended himself by taking in an entire gang as unpaying boarders;Alice―not meaning for her advice to be interpreted as an invitation to houseSerpents in her home―had ended upsheltering Jughead and Sweet Pea. Cheryl had taken several others, includingToni and Fangs, to whose gentleness she’d become attached since joining thegang as it reminded her of her brother.

Her own fake brother (plus her demented serial killer dad) long gone, Bettyhad found it was kind of nice having boys in the house again. No amount of timespent with Jughead was ever enough for her, and Sweet Pea had really grown onher over the past few days. He was like… a good friend, or maybe a brother. Or,no, not exactly that.

“Now you tell me what happened,”Jughead probed, offering a hand as Sweet Pea sat up and looked around thedarkened room.

Betty and Jughead had been sitting up in the kitchen in their pajamas, justtalking. Ideally, they would’ve been able to do so in a shared bed, but theywere still living under Alice’s roof, after all. Then Sweet Pea had stumbledin, long after they’d begun assuming he was staying elsewhere for the night.

“I may have had a few shots,” he admitted, waving Jughead off and rising tohis feet. Betty eyed him as he wobbled for a second. He eyed her right back ina totally different way.

“No kidding,” she said flatly, ignoring the heat in her face.

“I was talking to Archie,” Sweet Pea went on, rubbing his eye with the heelof his hand, “and then Veronica started going on and on about her goddamn businessplans. Almost got in a fight,” he noted with a smirk, “when she mentionedtrading the Wyrm, so fucking casual. WHERE DOES SHE GET THE NER―”

Jughead muffled the sudden surge in volume by clamping a hand over thetaller boy’s mouth. Betty watched the tense look pass between them, fingersgripping the edge of the table. There were no sounds from upstairs, so her momwas probably still sleeping. She stepped into the kitchen to read the time onthe microwave. God, almost two in the morning.

“Skip to the part where you’re fine with it,” Jughead suggested, loweringhis hand to Sweet Pea’s shoulder when the boy nodded.

“Well, then she―Veronica―said she was going to make some changes to Pop’s,really make it Serpent-friendly. So we drank to that.”

“More than once, I’d guess,” Betty muttered, hopping up onto the island asthe boys moved slowly from the dining room to the kitchen―Jughead behind SweetPea with a hand on his back in case he toppled again, she assumed.

“You know…” Sweet Pea started. His hand came down on the island right nextto her thigh and as he spoke, his fingers slid into the bare skin near the lineof her pajama shorts. “Betty,” he tried again, “you know what’s good for that?For drinking too much?”

She cracked, no longer able to be annoyed at his intoxication since, first,he’d lowered his voice and, second, he was giving her a goofy, open-mouthedsmile. Betty laughed.

“What’s that, Sweet Pea?”

He leaned heavily into the island at her side. She glanced over at Jugheadwho had his eyebrows raised in amusement.

“A tall drink of water,” Sweet Pea provided, head falling loosely forward ashe stared at her legs.

Betty pinched her lips tightly together and locked eyes with her boyfriend.He shrugged at her. When Sweet Pea’s hand then landed on one of her legs, thumbrubbing back and forth across her skin, she expected Jughead to get possessiveand intervene; since his confrontation with Penny and the Ghoulies, he wasnothing if not protective. While her boyfriend did keep assessing eyes on herface, he didn’t start swinging or attempt to haul Sweet Pea away. Gaze goingfrom Jughead to the other Serpent, Betty considered that maybe she didn’t wanthim to. Don’t be ridiculous, she toldherself, and lifted Sweet Pea’s hand, replacing it on the countertop afterdisentangling his fingers from hers when he tried to hold her hand.

“What are you talking about?” she asked with another laugh, trying to playhis comment off as a joke, though the look on his face told her something else.“I’m at least half a foot shorter than you.”

“If that’s the way it’s gonna be,” he said in a singsong that was bothdefensive and nonsensical, “then I’m gonna get some fresh air.”

With that, Sweet Pea turned, opened a cupboard drawer and walked smack intoit, apparently thinking it was the back door.

“Why do I never have my camera when these things happen?” Jugheadheartlessly complained.

Betty was about to chastise him for his harshness, until he stepped close toSweet Pea to check for damage. His hands weren’t much shier on Sweet Pea thanthey were on Betty, she thought.

“It must be hard with your sense of direction,” her boyfriend ponderedaloud, feeling Sweet Pea’s forehead until he winced, “never being able to findyour way to a decent pickup line.”

“It wasn’t that bad,” Sweet Pea disputed gruffly.

“I was embarrassed for you,” Jughead insisted. From the island, Betty smiledto herself.

“Oh yeah? Then guess who gets to stay up and practice with me?”

Jughead stiffened.

“That didn’t sound as innocent as you probably meant it to,” he pointed out.

“I know what I said,” Sweet Pea shot back, grabbing the front of Jughead’st-shirt.

Betty sprung down and got between them. With a palm on each boy’s chest, shecould feel their hearts banging away like boxers, separated but still throwinghits. The violent tension dissolved in seconds, but a new sort of tensionformed, freezing the trio in place like ice cubes hardening in a tray. For amoment, glancing from blues eyes to brown, it terrified her that they were bothgiving her the same look.

“Why don’t I get you a real drink of water?” Betty offered hurriedly,backing towards the sink.

“Great,” Jughead affirmed, similarly shifting to flee the kitchen. “And I’llcheck on the painkiller situation.”

“Hey,” Sweet Pea tossed out, resting his elbows comfortably on the counterand glancing from Betty to Jughead, “whatever you guys want to share.”

Betty turned to the sink and jerked the tap on, fighting to keep herselffrom plunging her hot face into the gush of cold water. If she had to resistany greater urge that night, Betty had a feeling she was going to be introuble.

Writing prompts can be found here if you’d like to make a request!

[sunshineyoongles]

Sweet as a Flower(shop)- a yoonmin fanfic

Hi, this is the first fic ive written in actual years so here’s hoping i havent gone all rusty, huh?

AO3

When Jimin sets up his flowershop business in the space below Yoongi's flat, neither knew how much it would change their lives.

alternatively:

Yoongi has the opposite of a green thumb and florist Jimin despairs (but it's okay because they're both falling in love) ____________________________________________________

Min Yoongi was aware of the new flower shop that had opened up in the shop below his apartment- oh trust him. He was well aware. Painfully aware. For the past three weeks, he had been woken up at 8am on the dot by hammering and drilling whilst the store was being renovated. His (asshole) friends thought it was a blessing that something managed to get Yoongi into a somewhat healthy sleep pattern, but he and his under-eye circles begged to differ.

This particular morning, however, greeted him differently.

Opening a cautious eye and preparing himself for the shock of power tools, Yoongi instead found sweet, sweet silence. He had woken up naturally. Bliss. He flops back onto his bed with a relieved groan, body going limp and becoming one with his mattress.

Not too long after his phone alarm starts wailing, sending him bolt upright. Below the large numbers of 8:30 AM (he’d woken up on his own before 8? He entirely blamed the builders from downstairs for messing with his body clock that much), Yoongi saw a notification pop up.

‘Mums birthday. Don’t forget a present.’

…In hindsight he should have set that reminder for yesterday because now it was his mums birthday and (it takes his sleepy brain slightly longer than he’s proud to admit to work out) he has approximately…two hours to get ready, get a gift, and drive to the place he had agreed to meet her at for breakfast.

In other words, he was royally fucked. Don’t get him wrong, he adored his mother! But between the unnaturally early mornings forced on him recently and late nights at the studio, Yoongi hadn’t been quite on top form.

He drags himself out of and starts up the coffee machine, leaning against it and smacking his lips as he tries to think of something to do. His eyes search over the room to see if there’s anything he can use as a makeshift gift while blaming amazon for the lateness of the ‘real’ gift.

There’s nothing. Unless you count the scarf in the corner but first of all its spring and second of all Yoongi has a sneaking suspicion his mother had bought it for him a few years ago… best not to risk it.

The coffee machine beeps and Yoongi takes a well needed sip, closing his eyes to enjoy the caffeine as well as the new silence in the flat now that flower shop has (hopefully) finished being done up.

It hits him.

Flower shop. Flowers make good presents, they look expensive and it’s right underneath his feet… he could even try to weasel a discount by telling the owner he lived upstairs and complaining about the noise. That would buy him enough time to get her a proper present, one closer to what she really deserved in time for the dinner that evening.

He grins proudly to himself and kisses the side of the mug.

“I can always count on you to save me when I’m in trouble…”

With a speed that can only be achieved with the threat of a mother’s disappointment, Yoongi was showered and dressed and on his way downstairs. He was dressed in his least ripped pair of jeans and a jumper she had gotten him for his birthday the year before. Perfect mother-pleasing material.

He pats his pockets to make sure he has his keys and phone as he walks around the side of the building to see the shop just being opened up. A short boy arranging some displays on a table outside so they catch the dingy morning light as well as possible.

“Oh, thank god… Yo, you. I know I’m a little early but honestly you’ve been keeping me up early every day for the past- a-ah.” His words die in his throat as the person setting up turns to look at him, gloved hands reaching up to brush coppery hair out of his eyes and leaving a smudge of dirt on his forehead. His eyes are wide and surprised, plump lips slightly parted. Yoongi swallows slightly, not sure if looking that pretty was actually legal at this time in the morning. Especially when you’re wearing ugly gardening gloves and have mud on your face.

“Goodness, I’m sorry! You surprised me there!” The boy giggles and awkwardly gestures to the door, “were you looking to buy? I’ll be in in just a moment once I’ve finished here...”

The reminder of why he was here shakes Yoongi out of his stupor and he nods, mumbling a quick ‘thanks’ before shuffling inside to see if he could find his mum’s favourites. True to his word, the florist steps in a few minutes later, visibly excited to have a customer already in a way that reminds Yoongi slightly of a puppy.

“I didn’t expect to have customers so soon! The display must have really worked-” he continues babbling as he ducks behind the counter and Yoongi can practically picture a wagging tail behind him.

“Is there anything in particular you’re looking for, sir?” The boy asks, and judging from his face and voice, Yoongi assumes he can’t be much older than a teenager.

“Yeah… It’s my mum’s birthday and she loves orchids… so…” He shrugs, not sure what else to say about the flower.

“Orchids, hm?” The boy glances around the shop, tapping his lower lip in thought in a way that drew Yoongi’s eye. Did he mention how plump they were? Probably. It was also probably worth mentioning again.

The florist looked back at him after a moment of contemplation, “What’s your price range? I have a few ideas about bouquets that would be good with orchids, or even just some nice potted orchids?”

“Actually, kid, I was hoping to speak to your manager? Or the owner of this place?”

Yoongi looked at the kid as he just nodded earnestly.

“Yup, that’s me!”

“…You… You own this place?” Yoongi stared, taken aback for a moment. When had tiny, baby children started running businesses?

“Mm… It’s been my dream for quite some time since I graduated… so what did you want to talk to me about?” he meets Yoongi’s gaze and smiles encouragingly.

“Uh, well I live upstairs so…” At that, the Kid’s (technically not a kid?) smile widens until his eyes disappear into crescents and- was that a slightly crooked front tooth? Oh god that’s adorable. Yoongi groaned internally in defeat, unable to bring himself to complain at his new neighbour and dampen his mood for a small discount.

“Oh! I’d been meaning to introduce myself, here” He starts running around, grabbing flowers and ribbon from all over the shop while introducing himself at lighting speed “, I’m Park Jimin, but as we’re neighbours you can just call me Jimin- I’m actually so glad you came to me first because I’ve been worrying all morning about what time you would wake up and if I knocked to introduce myself and woke you I’d feel awful! Oh, Goodness I didn’t even think about the builders! They didn’t annoy you, did they? I hadn’t even considered it, I’m so-“

“Yah, Jimin, It’s fine. They uh… They didn’t wake me up.” The lie hurt his heart to make but the relief that crossed over Jimin’s face made up for it. “I’m Min Yoongi… but I guess Yoongi is fine…”

Jimin beams at him and starts wrapping up the bouquet, something Yoongi hadn’t paid much attention to until now. It looks… expensive.

“Jimin… how much will that cost? Y��know, roughly…?” He rubs the back of his neck, not wanting to look like he’s a cheapskate but also not wanting to bankrupt himself just before paying for breakfast.

“Oh this? Free of charge. Think of it as a gift to a good neighbourship between us!” He holds out the bouquet, smiling as if he wasn’t just letting at least £40 fly out of his pocket for the sake of friendship. If not more.

“I can’t accept that. Firstly, you can’t lose money on your first customer. Secondly, shouldn’t I be the one buying you a housewarming gift? Thirdly… just no.”

Jimin purses his lips at this, hesitating. “Well, I insist.”

“Well so do -” Yoongi gets cut off by a buzz from his phone. It’s his mother. He’s running late.

“Is… Is everything okay?” Jimin watches as the colour drains from Yoongi’s already pale skin, leaving him alarmingly ghostly.

“I’m late… shit. Shit, shit, shit. Okay! I’ll take the flowers for now but I’m paying you back later!” He grabs the bouquet and runs out of the store, an airy giggle following him out as he scrabbles for his keys.

[arielbuttercup]

It’s been a while since I wrote to you. Well I had a busy summer and in a way needed some time to adjust.

So let’s begin at the start of my summer. In the last week of July I moved house. It was a hard week. I lost track of the times I drove to the new house with a loaded car. All while I was dog sitting little Kurt. I was lucky that everything did fit in my giant as fuck van, the biggest that I could drive myself. It was exhausting but by the last Thursday in July I had all my stuff in the new house and left the old house as I thought behind. The days towards the move I cleaned and scrubbed the old house like a crazy person, when I wasn’t loading my car or unloading it in the new house I was scrubbing. Well… I thought it is nice and clean, some parts I purposely did not clean because I did not want to hide the intense mould in the attachment. In the end it was not clean enough in the landlord’s eyes. They complained about not dusted behind and in between radiators, under the fridge and even the huge piles of garden waste that I would have paid a lot of money to get it taken away and also some other places that weren’t clean we moved in. It was ridiculous and we could have fought getting more of the deposit back but in the end I just wanted to have a clean cut and not having to deal with them any more. The weeks towards the moving out date there were a few viewing but what surprised me the most was to find out how much the landlord put up the rent of the house, I am still not sure if it was worth that much more money. I did see that it has been taken off the market, I am curious to find out if it is rented out again. I might have a drive by next time I am in town.

Once I moved all my crap into the new house I tackled the unpacking straight away. My new mattress nearly killed my friend Sarah, I think it was the exhaustion that even made us even laugh when it happened. It went quite smoothly, though I did forget the new house key when we drove the van up(down? I’d say up). It took me three times to get my new (old) Narnia wardrobe upstairs. Twice I failed and then I was so annoyed that I took the whole think apart any nail and screw was taken out so that in the end I managed to get it upstairs and in my dressing room, it is a bit crooked put back together but would you be if you were holding an entire different world inside? It took my just a few days to have the house that looked like a messy shed to be a home.

But my summer did not stop there. Just a little over a week after moving in Mama came to visit, it wasn’t so much of a vacation visit. We did do a few fun things but many we did stuff in the house and the garden. The garden was rough it took a day to get it all sorted and nice looking. Now it looks like this really pretty oasis, but it got very quickly too uncomfortable as in wet and cold to be sitting outside. We joked we should have left it to the last days of her stay to keep the sun and warmth of summer. We did put up wall stickers, moved furniture and got decorations. We had lovely talks some more serious, some more funny but I am glad to know that Mama is coming back for Christmas and this time with Dirk again but also and so much more importantly with Oma! My grandma, my Oma that I miss dearly and at points felt as if she gave up on me. I wish I had a downstairs guestroom but I will make sure that she has a lovely time here even though we have to get put the bed every night. I will keep you updated on my plans I have for their stay.

So summer came and went, it seemed so quickly. Mama left in the last week of my summer holidays and I got ready for school. It felt a little bit weird, our team had gotten smaller and was -not that any of us knew that in the first week of September- going to have to go through difficult times. Back when I was in school, I hated PE with all my heart! I saw it as weekly torture, now one third of my timetable is PE and you know what? I love it. I love supporting some youngsters that want to do PE but for different reasons need a differentiated curriculum. One pupil works really hard in the gym with me but sending him out with the rest of his class he struggles, recently he rowed 2km in 12 and a half minutes. I ran against him on the treadmill and was not able to beat him, he cheered me on for 6 minutes afterwards. Two other pupils have physical disadvantages one more severe than the other but they are both working very hard to beat their own best. The fourth pupil is a bit like a confused professor and needs someone to keep him on track of his task. I enjoy all my PE lessons, last week I’ve been told I would make a great PE teacher… I might be good with the physical education but I suck in rules and practices of games. Well for the moment I don’t know what the future brings, maybe one day I will be a teacher and maybe I will teach PE and German, that doesn’t sound so awful as I would have expected -at least the PE part-.

School is nothing excited but I love my job, sure the getting up part is hard and having to walk Dakota twice a day by myself is not easy. Constantly having to consider if she is alone too much but we adapted. I walk her so much during the week that at weekends she is still pretty tired.

Dakota changed a little bit she still shares toys and chews with Kurt when he is visiting but she has trouble sharing me with him. But that is understandable, she does not have to share me any more, it is different with Yvaine. Yvaine is not so much of a snuggler. Yvaine has changed too, she is now wearing a calming collar and I got to say she seems less angry with the world. For the time being she will continue wearing one, and once my guest arrive I will even top it up with calming drop-ons. She is also being trained to use the human toilet instead of a litter tray, Dakota likes eating the litter and I just see a huge mess. So far it is going very well. We are in the second stage I guess, the first stages were to get her used to a smaller littler tray and then a trainings toilet seat litter tray. She will for another 5 days use the one that is closed and then we start the third stage, still the trainings toilet seat litter tray but it will have a small hole in the middle. It will take time but fingers crossed so far she is adjusting very well. It will be nice to be done with littler trays, the toilet will be clean and easy maintainable. And the best part Dakota cannot eat dirty litter any more. Something that is really disgusting.

Since I moved I went to a new church, they are all very nice and friendly I will try it a few times and also try some others before I settle. It is nice to meet people here. On the note of meeting people I would love to talk about my neighbours but a part of me worries that somehow they find out. They fight, as in physical fight and one night the police came and recently they broke their own living room window. It is a little bit scary. The kids of the street like me and Dakota, they are amused by Yvaine, they don’t seem to understand why I do not let her out. I have to make sure they don’t start knocking at the window when she is sitting there.

I don’t think this topic is a topic for a short paragraph but it is a start. So I am yearning to be a mother, and I tried the adoption foster road and I ran the council here again but even though they liked me on the phone as soon they asked me about family and support system they told me I need to make more friends. I decided I will go down the route of co-parenting, I am searching for a man that is willing to co-parent. It is the route of sperm donor and separated parents it is a scary route and a long road ahead of me, especially with my polycystic ovary syndrome. It makes conceiving a little bit hard. The process of finding someone that is a person I want to have in my life forever is not easy. I am basically looking to find a best friend that I want to have a child with. If everything works out I will be a mother in the next few years hopefully before I turn 35. It is scary but exciting.

And lastly, thank you for everyone that supported me and Dakota during our mud run. We raced £125 and got muddy to the underwear. It was so much fun.

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I will try to write more regularly, for whoever reads those I know it is many for me but hey I enjoy writing and if anyone out there enjoys reading it that is fine by me. It helps me to let out my inner writer no matter how boring it may seem. I live alone and this way I feel like I am talking to a lot of people, to friends.

The Chaos Of Life It's been a while since I wrote to you. Well I had a busy summer and in a way needed some time to adjust.