#anyways. quack quack bitches

[bookwyrminspiration]

Silly Game Time: WRONG ANSWERS ONLY! What does LGBTQ stand for?

Let's Get Back To Quacking 😎🦆

[fics-lovebot]

enhypen fic recs pt.5

main masterlist - pt. 1 - pt. 2 - pt. 3 - pt. 4

· · ♡ · · tysm to the amazing creative minds of the writers for giving me sevaral moments of joy reading your creations

these are my personal favs, so pls reblog if you like any of my recs❤️

kiss me, he´s watching - ( @enhaflixer ) smut, fake bf!Heeseung x being stalked!reader - You kissed Heeseung to escape your stalker’s gaze—this is diffferentttt, i loved reading it sm, felt like a movie

cherry trees - ( @enhaflixer ) smut, angst, fluff, second chandce rom, arranged husband!Jungwon x trophy wife!reader - WHEWWWW this was intenssee, I LOVE WHEN MEN FUCK UP AND THEN GO INSANE :p. also, the whole plot felt real, like hard work was being put in to fix everything. deff one of my jungwon favs out there

change your ticket - ( @demusewriter ) so much fluff, Idol!Jungwon x Non-idol!reader. yESSSss, loved the yearning

the grinch that stole my… pants? - ( @mandukkul ) fluff, crack. bf!ni-ki x fIreader, established relationship. nahh this is so cute, reader is valid af

quacked up - ( @veilstqr ) downbad!ni-ki, fluff and crack x ni-ki being whipped and the members not letting him breathe. jungwon is so wrong for that lmao, poor niki

rich boy enha - ( @blairbliss ) fluff, rich!ot7, this is like my dream come true. rICH PRETTY MEN IN LOVE, THAT´S WHAT IM ABOUT

faces and sounds they make - ( @enhaflixer ) smut, ot7. YESSSSSSSSSSSSS, i have no words. this had me grinning like a gremling. yall know that one freaky sonic gif? yeah.

between the shelves - ( @liuhsng ) fluff, strangers to lover, soulmate au, alpha!jake, omega!reader, alpha!enha. I LOVEDDD THISSSSSSS, jake´s so dreamy cool and collected, got me giggling and kicking my feet

perv!sunghoon - ( @urlovebot ) smut. MY JAW IS ON THE FLOOR. this is crrraazzzzyyyyyyyyyyyyy

the price of perfection - ( @woniedarlin ) angst, fluff, academic rival!jake, academic pressure. now now, i know i said i hate those academy rivals, work rivals, enemies to lovers tropes, and i do!, BUUTTT this one´s differente. They aren´t really rivals, she´s just jealouse and jake´s just vibing lmao, but they end up being what each other´s need

king of tears - ( @enhaflixer ) ANGST, fluff, smut. Chaebol Husband!Sunghoon, slow burn, second chance rom. WHAT COMES AFTER 7???? this is honestly amazing, i´ve never read a kdrama inspired fic like this one, so so good. and as the Angsty Fic Ambassador, i aprove tf out of this skdjfkjf, also SUNOO AND NIKI HAD ME CACKLING. After you´re done, read this one too

heavy little love - ( @hazelira ) fluff :´(. dad!heeseung, this is so wholesome, so beautiful. i also believe he´s such a boy dad idk idk.

i´ll never let that happen again - ( @semisasseater ) fluff, angst, protective bf!niki. this one´s for my delulu riki stans, ik you´ll like it :p

take me back! - ( @heeseung64 ) text au, suggestive. desperate ex!hee, bad bitch!reader as she should. sdfkjskj this ones funny af, i do like them a lil crazy anyway

the dollmaker - ( @faeyun ) smut, fluff lowk, husband!sunghoon, dark gothic heavy themes (read warnings). YUUUPPPP, this is an art piece right here. wowwww, author i love ur brain, i´ve never read anything like this!

wrong contact - ( @heeseung64 ) text au, best friend!enha. love love accidental confessiones sjdskjf had me giggling and kicking my feet like the delulu ass bitch i am

off the ice - ( @luvsicktyun ) angst, smut, fluff. hockey player!jake, pregnant!reader, college au, accidental pregnancy trope. this is gewddd, i love how this is written. reader feelings are so so valid and real, getting pregg after a ons by a man who´s future doesn´t seem to include being a father whatsoever is scary af, luckily this is sim jake we´re talking about

beneath the blue - ( @enjakey ) fluff, smut, the plot is EVERYTHING. marine engineer!Jake x marine biologist!Fem!Reade. HOW DOESNT THIS HAVE LIKE +30K NOTES??????? THIS IS A WHOLE MOVIE, ARE YOU KIDDING ME????? people really don´t appreciate lengthy, detailed, beautifully written fics with a thick-interesting-innovating plot anymore and that´s fucking sad. author, this is a MASTERPIECE

caught in my web - ( @fatalhoon ) fluff, crack. spiderman!jake, loser!jake, bsf!reader, school au. this is so cuuteeee and jake aint sleek at all lmao

just married - ( @bywons ) FLUFF, down bad!sunghoon (YOU ALREADY KNOW IM EATING TS UPPP), drunk!sunghoon, not him wanting to elope and get married after breakdancing at a friend´s wedding, i love this sm

hoodie thief - ( @tobiosbbyghorl ) smut, fluff, roomamate!sunghoon, he´s a total boobs guy (canon) so him losing it over them isn´t strange lmao, loved this

richman´s world - ( @okwonyo ) text au, fluff, ceo!jay. ahaha i´m gonna crash tf oUT bc wdym HE´S RICH AF AND GETS TURNED ON BY YOU SPENDING HIS MONEYYYDSLFLSKJFHSKJH and he´s dOWN BAD TOO????? you´re done.

let´s play - ( @fgumi ) crack, fluff. not heeseung getting humbled by his own gf on LOL lmao

loser in a hot man´s body - ( @fgumi ) fluff, school/college au, loser bf!hee (LETSFUCKINGGOOOO) x hot popular!gf. i LOVEEEEEEEEE a hot man with a quirky personality who´s down bad for his gf, i eat it up EVERY TIME

my kind of girl - ( @okwonyo ) scenarios of bf!enha getting on their knees for you. wait why ni-ki kinda,,, afhalksfjhlajfhlah, i love this

[deadghosy]

THANKS TO @lazyemmy FOR THIS LOVELY IDEA OF THE PENGUIN! READER💗🦆

HAZBIN HOTEL X PENGUIN! READER

prompt: during one extermination an angel had kidnapped you and took you to heaven based off a common mistake

“Quack?” You were literally trying to water the hotel’s flowers when you forgot about extermination….the leader of the exterminators had grabbed you by your sailor outfit Velvette made you.

“Shut your mouth short stuff.” You heard a man’s voice to see a person wearing a horned mask and a golden robe. You panicked as Charlie had told you about a man like this as Adam scoffs seeing your panicked state.

“JEEZ CHILL OUT YOU FUCKIN' BIRD BRAIN!” Adam yells as he enters in the portal of heaven with the exterminators behind him. He plops you down on the clouded floors to see the heavenly gates Charlie tells you in stories

As you waddled you seen a male who seemed to be waiting for you. “Ah! Reader..so glad to have you. It seems as if heaven had made a mistake and sent you to hell.” St. Peter said as he picks you up having the gates open. Your eyes widen at the bright light of heaven as angels walk and smile. “Welcome to your true home [reader]”

The air smelt so clean and not bloody as it seemed so peaceful and holy. After St. Peter getting your room and home ready to stay in heaven. You start to feel a little “home” sick as you hope the hotel crew was doing well and aren’t going crazy.

Which they totally are as Charlie is panicking calling her father.

After a few days , Adam will visit you a lot saying how he got forced to look after you…(he wasn’t forced he just liked how cute and pure you are but he’ll never admit it) Adam makes dumb ass jokes about how all those sinners down there should die and perish as he pats you on your little head. You quacked trying to show some worry for your friends down there.

“Oh them? Hah! They’re probably running like headless chickens looking for your ass.” Adam says with his usual grin as he pops some popcorn in his mouth. “Want some?” He says as he waves a piece of popcorn in your face. you sniffed it and ate it from his hand as adam's eyes widen at your cuteness…

you're like a little baby..💗😭😭😭

Adam grabs your chubby cold cheeks as he faces you towards him. “Never leave here. Okay?” He says seriously low with a protective tone as you quack nodding nervously at how quick this dude got attached to you.

Adam pushes your face away from him smirking. “Good now let’s watch this video I saw off of this human app called ‘TikTok’”

Lute didn’t know how to approach you, but she sends you small gifts that reminds her of you as you just open them like “quack?” And a head tilt confused but take it in anyways.

I imagine lute literally being your bodyguard when you don’t have any work to do as she just pushes anyone who gets to close to you away. LIKE IT COULD BE AN OLD LADY AND SHE WOULD BE LIKE “BITCH MOVE!”😭

After the 3rd day of the 1 week of being in heaven, lute definitely got overprotective of you. Always keeping tabs on where you go and which house you deliver mail to. I mean who knows what would happen to a cute soul like you? (A/n: Omg this sounds like a yandere…)

The angels love how adorable you are as they pet you. Immediately you are popular just like how you are popular in hell. Sera has given you a job as a mail boy again as you smile.

I can see St.Peter visit you when he isn’t on duty or just when someone takes his spot so he can say hi and hang out with you.

You wear a cute little yellow and white mail delivery fit thanks to sera who got a designer to get you to fit it perfectly.

You love how you still got your delivery job as you leave a cookie on the front porches of the angels. It’s like your significant signature to others to have a good day.

Adam and lute were arguing one time in front of you and you sniffled not liking the loud noises and immediately, and surprisingly. Adam and Lute pretended everything was okay to make you happy as Adam picked you up and took you away to get your favorite snack for you.

Sera checks on you as well with Emily by her side as Emily just finds you so cute and is excited to get to hang out with you more.

Emily immediately hugs and kisses your head amused by your small and kind soul she sees in you.

Sera would like to take you on stroll on week 2. She’d like to show you around heaven with Emily as she hold you in her arms gushing chow cute you are.

NOW I CAN IMAGINE YOU AND EMILY GOING ON A SHOPPING SPREE TO EXPLORE NEW CLOTHING AESTHETIC ✨💗

You showed yourself to be an angel by spirit as you helped a kid get a new lollipop, which makes sera smile at you being helpful as he is glad to hav with here in heaven and not they “ratchet” place.

You do miss hell as it had your friends who you got use to….you hoped they were still doing okay down there.

MEANWHILE IN HELL: “OMG OMG I CANT BELIEVE THEY GOT KIDNAPPED…IM A BAD FRIENDDD” “HON DONT WORRY, YOUR DAD CAN FIND A WAY TO GET THEM..” “it’s okay fat nuggets, they’ll come back…” *sad oink* and everyone else is having their own panic moment in their own way.

MEANWHILE BACK IN HEAVEN: “quack.” You said looking up at adam who holds your hand. “Huh? Jeeezzz bird brain..stop worrying about those loser down there…they’re fine without you.” Adam says smirking knowing damn well they aren’t .

Emily holds your hand as you waddle quacking at the ice creams around here. They taste so much better as your eyes sparkle at this sweet flavored treat. Emily squeals as her eyes got big and took a pic of your happy face. Sera most definitely got the picture on her heaven phone as her face soften seeing the new angel in heaven enjoying their self.

I imagine Adam is the one to be the one who claims to be the closest to you. But really he just brags about himself to you about how much sinners he kills.

I headcannon for your wings to be little cute fairy looking wings or pure white ones as you just fly.

You definitely have cherubim in heaven which makes the angels find you more adorable as the delivery boy.

You had made an account literally one day, and instantly you got 2 million followers which made you shock as Adam just munches on snacks while you quack panicked at how quick you became famous here.

I headcannon St. Peter to send you cookies with those cute little penguin designs on it. It looks like Christmas cookies but they are so cute and tasty

Say for example you fell and you couldn’t get up as you’re so rounded 😭 LITERALLY ALL YOU CAN DO IS ROLL AND SQEUAK AND QUACK💗 Adam is laughing as he takes a picture and video for himself before helping you up.

I can imagine Adam and Sera having a schedule out to plan who gets it hang out with you on weeks and days 😭

You liked the herbal tea they had as you waddle around with Adam having a kid leash on you as he just looked bored.

At the end of the week, you were sleeping wearing a whole ass cute gown Adam bought you as he literally dropped it on you with a flustered face seeing your cute smile.

As you slept…Lucifer snuck into heaven and snatched you up leaving a “fuck you” letter to Adam. Don’t even question how he got into heaven. Just be glad he took you.

[colorlessjay]

S16 Dean should have a nice soft tummy from all the delicious baking he does and Cas loves laying his head down on it so really Dean is doing his husband a service by giving him a little extra cushion!

Y/N?

(S6 Soulless Sam defo tries to body shame him because Soulless Sam is clearly a fitness nut and super judgey y/n?

S16 Dean doesn’t gaf y/n?)

Yes because I subscribe to soft tummy Dean

Like I like to think at first he was insecure about it

Like one day, he catches himself in the mirror and sees how retirement has kinda made his stomach soft. And you can't blame him. Most of the time he's working his upper body with how often he does heavy lifting (for his job or just fixing up the house). His legs are hard muscle too given how Cas insists he lift with them. Ab workouts aren't really in his schedule. He expected them to just stay hard and toned like the rest of him

So seeing a little muffin top forming? well... kinda makes him a little self-conscious

and Cas picks up on that immediately

And partly, it's Cas' fault. He's been getting into baking recently for the lack of anything to do, and Dean's been a very eager taste tester (even for Cas' less delicious experiments)

So the moment Dean suddenly starts sucking in his gut, wearing a looser shirt, and layering up again? Cas is on him like a man possessed and shows Dean just how much he adores his new retirement body

in very vivid detail

So yeah, when S6 soulless Sam teases Dean about having a dad bod, of letting himself go?

Dean fires back easily with a "Laugh all you want, Sammy. But this-" he pats his soft tummy "Got me laid more than I did when I was younger. So suck it, bitch"

--------

anyways, quack quack

[golbrocklovely]

you know, I thought i might of been annoying with the amount of asks i send you, and that still might be true but people apparently love me… so im sticking around 😂 gotta build this aussie anon fandom… buy the merch (its just a tshirt with koala ears on the anon icon and ‘xplr me daddy’ across the shoulder blades)

also absolute fkn ditto to your post abt snc needing a villain era. especially colby. I learnt just the other day that apparently he goes thru this m drama every time he’s snapped with a girl. like every time, for years. that’s gotta be so horrible. like imagine being the constant reason your friends or dates get harassed online just for being around you. you’d feel like poison. i truly hope he finds someone who couldnt give two flying quacks abt that stuff. heck, if it were me (lemme dream, alright) and i knew this wasn’t just a once off thing… i was going to say my acct would be private and i’d have ‘message from strangers’ turned off… but i already have all that… Colby, I’m ready!!! lmao i jk i jk (or do I 👀)

anyway, back to colby fighting in the clubs. you said he’s possessive… im curious about that. like in a protective way over the people he cares about, or actually like “this is my person, back off” type? either way, hella shmexxyy

- aussie anon

omg this is such a long response so i'm sorry in advance lol

haha no you're totally okay to keep sending in asks. no one has a problem with it, especially me :)

and omg an "xplr me daddy" shirt would be hysterical and i'm surprised they haven't done one (even jokingly) before lol

and yes, it's not just girls colby is interested in either. it's EVERY girl - date, friend, stranger - it doesn't matter. if fans can find out who she is, they will send her hate. or at the very least bombard her with questions as to how she knows colby, what's he like, ect. it's honestly very embarrassing to be in this fandom sometimes strictly bc of that type of shit.

i've talked about how i've felt on colby's love life ad nauseum on here, but i don't mind speaking on it more. i genuinely believe this fandom needs a HUGE reality check. bc there are too many ppl in this fandom that believe they have a say in what he does with said love life. and now it's bled over into sam's.

the golden child apparently can do wrong now lol

like on xplrclub, they literally APOLOGIZED (half-heartedly, but still said sorry) for the pics of them with the girls leaking over new years. and that's just fucking bonkers to me. there is no reason two 27 year old men should be saying sorry to a bunch of random girls they have never met before and don't even know exist bc they are going out and having fun and dating. and what makes it worse is snc felt the need to do this. they don't need to explain anything to us, especially about their private lives.

and the amount of fucking fans i saw saying "well if you wanted to have a private life, keep it private. don't post things." and it's like…… idk how many times i have to say this, but SNC ARE NOT YOUR FRIENDS. them not telling you about a girl they are fucking with is not a betrayal. they don't know you. they couldn't even pick you out of a line up of two ppl. stop thinking your opinion is neccessary, especially when it comes to their personal lives. you aren't owed an explanation. idc if you've been in this fandom for years, given them tons of money, have a fan account dedicated to them on every site, repost their content all the time - NONE of that matters. you are a random person, you are a statistic. a view count. and while yes, snc care about us, that doesn't mean they KNOW you or that your opinion is VALID.

you wouldn't like a random person coming onto your account and bitching at you about your life choices, right? so why do you think snc deserve that? bc they're public figures? NOPE, not a good enough reason. you want to bitch at them about content and the choices they make on that? that's fine. but private, personal shit they do is none of your concern or business.

and i know there are plenty of fucking ppl that will call me a hypocrite bc god forbid i talk about snc's love lives - but reality is i know my opinion isn't worth shit. i'm not coming up into their comments, @ ing them every chance i get, just to give them my two cents. i do my best to keep it light hearted and silly. none of what i talk about is serious or direly needed info. which is also why i do it on a site they aren't privy to. they're not on here. me complaining into the void doesn't effect them. and i'm also extremely aware of the fact that i don't know everything. i don't know the full story, never will, and i'm not OWED it either.

sorry, that was a really long rant. but i'm just…. so done with the fandom rn lol i've been reading ppl complaining for too long about shit they don't deserve to complain about and it's just annoying at this point.

but to bring it back to your ask - i hope colby, and sam too, find a girl that fucking PARADES that she's dating him. of course, with colby or sam's consent. if i was dating one of them, i would rub in these fans' faces, and i mean that wholeheartedly. aww, you're upset i'm fucking your man? TOO BAD WOMP WOMP lmao

and as for colby being possessive, he's said it in some tweets in years' past. he's tweeted out before "Im such a protective, jealous person wow" and "I'm overly protective" followed by someone asking him "so that means if you had a girlfriend you'd protect her a lot" and he replied with "protect her with my life". so, i see him as being a very loyal person, who is protective of the ppl he deems as "his", so to speak.

in a relationship, my guess is that while he's not obsessive or demanding, he is very much like "you are my girlfriend". i don't see him to be the type to say you can't talk to this guy or be friends with these ppl, nothing like that. but he reads to me like the type to keep his arm around you while at the club, that way any guy that sees you know you're taken by him.

also side note, i know as a woman i should be like i'm my own person, i'm no one's but my own, blah blah blah. but a guy that's just a twinge bit possessive is hot. i'm sorry, it's my red flag and i know it is sksksks

[gaffney]

your portrayal of adam banks is my favorite portrayal of him i think ever… what are your other thoughts about him?

OH MAN. thank you so much 😭 i sort of talked about him here kinda recentish! as for other stuff… i will say that i feel like i’ve seen a lot of takes recently about adam’s relationship with his dad that i don’t really vibe with. 🤔 implying that he doesn’t care about adam’s wants/needs, or that adam’s scared of his dad, which i don’t think is the case at all…

like, if you think about it. to adam and his dad, bombay is the villain of d1. the movie framed adam’s switch to the ducks as something positive for bombay, the ducks, and, eventually, adam. and–while this may be true–reverse the situation and you end up with a father who is told that his kid can no longer play on the team that he wants to play on. the team where he has his friends, the team his big brother (who adam most likely admires) used to play for. like!!! IMAGINE. some jackass coach from the worst team in the league coming up to gleefully tell you that your son–who is not only incredibly talented but loves the game–can’t play for the rest of the season or his team will have to forfeit. i would’ve socked bombay right there in the face lmao. THE AUDACITY!!! 

so, phillip banks tries to do what any involved father would do: find a way around it. possibily throw a bunch of money at it, because he’s in a position that he can. again, bombay refuses. not because he wants to give adam a place where he’d be treated better. no. he doesn’t know that kid. bombay says no because he’s a petty bitch, knows that adam is a great player, and does not want to give reilly the advantage. then he leaves the office quacking like an asshole. if i had been phillip banks, i would’ve been questioning that man’s sanity.

ANYWAY. we know phillip’s opinion: according to him, adam would rather not play than play for the ducks. except! adam shows up in the locker room anyway, which means that his choice was different: he just wants to play hockey, no matter where it is. and, rather than telling him no (especially after witnessing how much of a quack his new coach is), phillip agreed. 

this shows us two things: 1) phillip cares enough about adam that he’s willing to let him go to a team that he (phillip) may not like, as long as it means his son gets what he wants (aka to play hockey). and 2) adam does not cower around phillip. he was able to tell him that he wanted to play and “win” whatever argument there might’ve been. it was adam’s choice. i think this is a very important distinction to make.

“but tumblr user gaffney,” i hear someone cry in the distance, “what about that time adam’s dad wore a hawks jacket to the finals?” WELL, random shout in the void, it’s like i said: to adam and his dad, bombay’s the villain. we don’t see phillip ever interact with bombay again prior to adam’s injury. now add the fact that adam wasn’t exactly welcomed to the team and most likely returned home from practice every week with another story of how jesse hall glared at him from across the rink (with good reason but that’s another story). it’s very likely that adam himself thought he’d be going back to the hawks after this season. he was still embarrassed/uncomfortable/trying to hide his face when he saw mcgill & larson, and this was after they’d made the playoffs. basically, phillip had no damn reason to support the ducks, even if his son was on the team. and even despite that, he cheered adam on. he left his seat immediately once adam was injured. they held hands when adam was rolled off the ice. 

then there’s d2. in flashbacks, we see bombay’s dad, who appeared to be a really good guy before his death. bombay then draws parallels between his dad and adam’s dad, which is something he probably would not do if he (still) hated adam’s dad or (still) thought he was an awful human being. to quote bombay, “(bombay’s dad) didn’t need me to score a hundred goals for him. he was proud of me because i was his son, and i did my best. i’m sure that’s how your dad feels. i know it is.” 

tldr; #letphillipbankslive2k23. there’s no need to woobify adam into a poor abused little rich boy tbh, but that’s just my Hot Take.

[mrstsung]

You know how people dont listen and think a pill will make all the problems go away when actually it's only to help you,not cure you.

Yeah. Make shang tsung more like

"Hey guys i found stuff that may help ease you. It will help ease all your pains and problems."

So no he doesn't say cure. He says eases. And without treatment,tlc,and care. Nobody will truly heal.

Plus making him pathetic (more so liu kang doing so and expecting him to not get pissed at knowing his whole existence is because of petty beef lou had with him FROM ANOTHER TIMELINE LIFE. And never was told,thus once again the cycle continues because you didn't fucking tell him WHY IT WAS BAD,WHAT HE WAS DOING AND WHY HE SHOULD HAVE A CHANGE OF HEART OR CHANCE TO CHANGE?! like liu how can you AND raiden fumble shang tsung by doing the same fucking shit. But somehow liu is worse with this. Because raiden did it to protect the realms. Liu kang does it because he's fucking a petty whore. But i digress. No shang tsung,despite being written like shit. Still is in the right because how can a man under poverty and corruption live like he do? Like you think outworld and edania won't become corrupt just because it look nicer or shao kahn aint a problem?! Ha! Look at real world empires. Yeah,how did they turn out?! Same shit. Just mystical. Nothing changes. Really. Honestly. Liu kang should have stayed dead. I loved liu. Emphasis on LOVED. Now i can't stand this bitch. Especially how they are doing him now. Fr.)

Anyways. Back to shang.

I feel him being good at many trades. But not really a master in them. He's legitimate. But people are assholes not listening to him. Or they dont want him rich,because you know damn well the rich ruling class wouldn't want a commoner to believe they can have good things in life right?! So this in turn shines a light.

No edania,outworld. Isn't actually at peace just because no war. Or shao kahn isn't a problem. No. It becomes its own problem. Like rome. It falls to corruption and greed. Empires fall one way or another.

Down with the fucking bourgeoisie! That's how i see it. Shang was a small part in the people uprising against an already corrupt regime. Kitana was a fucking fool for believing,mileena knew but didn't know how to say it due to they positions. Sindel is revealed to be no damn better than shao kahn or jerrod. In fact,it goes to show all of them are fucking pretty terrible people to the poor. Privilege and class is something that is so skirted by in mk and its kinda interesting that nobody else sees this.

Sure at the end of the day. Vidyagaem. But damn if ya gonna tell a story. There are better ways to do it.

Especially if you add fantasy politics. The point of world Building is to actually build a believable world and people and characters. Not just make it plot convenient for the masses.

See this is why shang tsung is more and more the only fucking good thing left about mortal kombat.

"Shang tsung was right about the gods!?"

*glocks gun*

"You fool! Always has been!"

But seriously. Having him a novice is fine but making him weak for plot to make liu kang "the nicer god" is pathetic and weak writing.

Nah. Shang tsung is supposed to be "that bitch you don't fuck with. Less you wanna die" type of character. This could have been avoided if you were nice to him and he had friendship. Seriously.

You can see and smell the bias from the character.

Which would have been a perfect opportunity to make liu kang dark or evil or something! Like falling from grace like raiden a mirror to "if you aren't careful you become what you hate!" And mirrors shang tsung in that "nah you aint that different than me. You're actually worse"

Like there could have been something epic. Or good guy shang tsung whaaa?! But nope

Nrs just wants to keep same ol same status quo while guising it as something new.

Nah nrs is the quacks. Not shang.

Bite me boon. Suck my nuts.

And honestly,shang tsung deserves better than this shit.

Especially after cary hiroyuki tagawa reprised his role after many years. All for you to be doing this shit again.

Smfh.

Nah i stan shang tsung not because im a shang tsung tsimp.

Nah i stan him because some of these people suck and are fucking mean.

( Especially when again a lot of shit once again can be easily avoided but nope,shitty plot. Also fire god liu fanboys specifically,are mean af. And rude. Hella rude. All because people said they feel bad for shang. Regardless if they personally agree with him or not. It's fucking rude to be an asshole to someone randomly,just because someone feels bad for a bad guy. I thought we were past this shit. Villains are very much loved especially nowadays given how the world be and irl governmental corruption and society be,so what gives?! You mad he got more pu**y than you ever could?! Is that it. You mad because he got more popular than liu kang chosen quack now? Maybe if nrs didn't write liu kang to be an insufferable prick. Maybe people would like fire god liu kang. And again shang tsung to me no matter what kind of life he has,good or bad. He refuses to live in squander. Regardless you could write him many ways. However one thing stands throughout all of them. He's fucking good at whatever he sets his mind to. So to make him pathetic lil welp is ooc and ridiculous af. And pisses me off. And makes me not really care for liu kang. At all. Like he could drop dead in the next game and i wouldn't cry. Same with every other character,i dont really feel anything profoundly with any of them. The only one I'd care for is shang tsung. Because he's the only fucking character that seems to have a good head on his shoulders despite the shitty writing and predicament he was placed in. )

Look this is me venting. Like this is a jab at asinine people,and the game writers. Especially when NRS should damn well do better but they don't. They dont want compelling villains,they want palatable villains. Complacency. And not a morally grey character that is funny enough,honest to god telling the truth. They hate it when the devil is right. But y'all know. Shang knew the corruption of things. But instead of making things actually livable. Nope. They make him a mockery. No offense but that's why it was so easy for him to become a dark sorcerer again. Wouldn't you? Could have been easily avoided. Very easy. Especially if liu was "so damn powerful" enough to prevent it. Its not because he's always this way. No it's because YOU MADE IT THAT WAY! period.

Fellow Shang stans,my shang tsimps. I'm sorry.

Hey at least we got fanfics,hcs,and each other.

Regardless of what form,timeline,no matter how shitty the writing is,no matter how asinine the fans can get. There are people who understand. And whatever you look like shang.

Know I will always love him.

💚🐍- mrstsung

[primeministerofantarctica]

so. turns out this was easier than i thought

ignore the two generic smurfs after smurfette they're just there bc the formatting sucks :/

also i couldn't find a finance smurf but he belongs in the "burn in smurf hell'' category <3

also i have time to kill so. list below the cut!

1. Clumsy - sweetheart. doesn't have a mean bone in their body. very autistic.

2. Lazy - i don't know how to explain lazy being an unintentional allegory for people with invisible disabilities that are considered a burden and. lazy under capitalism. but he has a big heart and cares about his friends even when they're less than considerate towards him (seriously, WHAT was the slumber party episode? were they like, intentionally trying to torture him?)

3. Jokey - "Oh, the folly of a clown, masking his loneliness with a joke!" <- person who definitely doesn't have any internal issues :). Also can we just appreciate the fact that he has ONE main prank and everybody still falls for it. (not to mention that the prank is. giving people bombs)

4. Timid - he BABY

5. Scaredy - he baby 2

6. Smurfette - specifically lost village smurfette cuz that was where she peaked. you go girl give us an identity crisis and journey of self-discovery only to find the answer was with you all along!

7. Greedy - comics/ 2021 specifically, because him and chef being distinct characters is funny as hell. he's so cute i would totally give him a muffin if he asked.

8. Harmony - he sucks so bad at what he's supposed to be best at! and i think that's so interesting and criminally underexplored! and every time he gets the other smurfs to like his music it ends badly :(.

9. Painter - dramatic ass bitch (affectionate). why was he the only french person in belgium.

10. Doctor - i assume that one's doctor at least. it is now. anyways he's funny as hell, like harmony he's also...bad at his passion. he doesn't have a reason to be a quack, he's just. Like That.

11. Reporter - I like his voice.

12. Poet - there is NO need to speak in couplets all the time, he's so extra.

13. Tailor - "*terrible Kip King impression* EVERYBODY STOP COMPLAINING OR I'LL SCREAM." He's really nice, he made Smurfette that dress in one episode even though he was busy, and he made Tracker a fur coat out of the scraps he gave him and Vanity a scarf with his face hand-embroidered on it just because? AND more importantly, he's very blunt. i like that :)

14. Hefty - no no you didn't see my love for strong muscular guys that are kind and caring and totally whipped for that one girl. ok he's not maws level but like. if you can put "she's so high" by tal bachman in a ship playlist then you've got a valid m/f ship

15. Grouchy - let him say hate again oh god please i will tear my ears out if i have to hear "me, I don't like x" again. fuckin WEAK. also the grammar i wanna curl up on the floor and cry.

16. Farmer - remember when all the smurfs only wore white pants so to distinguish farmer from the others he would just be randomly carrying a hoe for no reason. also his accent is SO silly in the new cartoon i love it.

17. Vanity - just...watch this.

18. Brainy - i'm sorry for putting him so low brainy fans can you ever forgive me /hj. with all fairness i do think he's an interesting character! he's just...interesting in a way that doesn't really appeal to me specifically.

19. Handy - i feel like he would build a doomsday device if he got bored one afternoon and honestly? i respect that.

20. Papa Smurf - sometimes he's a good father figure. sometimes he's a terrible "father figure". it depends on the medium. and the direction of the wind.

21. King (pretentious) Smurf - made a whole authoritarian regime in like. two days. what the hell man.

22. Finance - capitalist :/

[cleoselene]

well, today was another one for the medical horror story journal

I've been having this rotten neck pain that's radiating all the way down to my fingertips, just awful. So I figured I'd see an orthopedist. I had a consult Friday with a physician's assistant, today was my first meeting with the physical therapist.

Well. This fucking guy. was a real fucking asshole.

He opened by giving me a really condescending lecture about how my MS could TOTALLY be "cured" through diet (this is not a thing. Some people claim it is a thing. Some quack bitch even gave a Ted Talk about it. But it is truly, honestly, deeply, NOT A THING. YOU CANNOT CURE MS AT ALL, LET ALONE WITH DIET). I immediately am on alert because ugh, fuck someone daring to say that to me who is not even a physician, let alone a neurologist. Gritting my teeth, I was like , no, sire, please, it's not true, and he was like DO YOU THINK I AM MAKING IT UP? and I was just like, I don't even WANT to have this conversation, man!

It is so deeply offensive to tell a person who is very sick and on permanent disability that if she just went gluten-free everything would be fine. When it's my annoying aunt or a random flaky person I meet it's annoying. When it's a medical professional who is supposed to be helping me, it makes me fly into a RAGE.

Anyway, I savaged them on Google Reviews.

Of course, my mother had to add insult to injury: while I'm typing up my google review, she starts to lecture me about not posting on facebook that I hate physical therapists because my aunt is one and she's a good person!! first of all, I wasn't even thinking about facebook, second of all, my mother DRIVES ME NUTS when it comes to facebook. She has this impulse to make sure she and her kids pretend to be Stepford Wife blissful on facebook and is always trying to monitor my content and I am. not fucking here for it. I don't know why she decided to needle me when I'm in this post-panick attack state after that appointment, but as Twig says, your parents know exactly how to push your buttons because they're the ones who installed them.

[olderjodijournals]

Friday, October 1, 2004

Blondie’s sleeping on the bed right now, and Tom should be in soon.

Because I slept till 1:00, getting up at 10:00 tomorrow is going to be hard. At least all we’ll be doing is zipping across the street.

Last night was quieter than the night before as far as the banging goes, but I’m afraid that tonight, being a Friday night, will be rocking. Then again, I’m hoping they’ll either be too tired to raise hell or that they’ll go get drunk in bars and come back to sleep it off till we leave.

Tina (yes, it really was Tina) said that we’re welcome back in two weeks when they’re gone, but I hope we won’t have to come back and that we’ll be in an apartment somewhere for our final 6-month sentence in the city by then. I just want to stop starting over and having the life I build up torn down!

Later…

Here’s an interesting update. Did we get a check from the queen? No, but we sure did get one from BOA! It’s for $262, and supposedly, it’s because we had money in the escrow account we closed long ago. With the way they’ve ripped us off and fucked us over, and with the way we need money, it was a great surprise. As for the queen and Miss Perfect, I want nothing more to do with them and neither does Tom. Not till that bitch goes belly-up anyway if she ever does. How many years ago was she supposed to die? Something like 10? She always has a new disease yet she lives on. I don’t know if the doctors are just quacks who are telling her she has things she doesn’t have, if she’s a hypochondriac, or what, but I wish she’d hurry up and drop dead!

In other news, I got a letter from Paula, which was nice. She didn’t make any references to us being motel bums. Hasn’t she gotten the letters I’ve sent? I hope so! She did get the incense, though, which she thanked me for, and says she’s done with the Puerto Rican guy but is seeing her black pig.

I sent both her and Bob what I hope will be my last of the motel letters! I may not be able to print right away, though, if the ink is all dried up. If not, it shouldn’t be long before I can pick up some new piece of shit to print with. At least we’re now 95% sure we’ll be in someplace in a couple of weeks, rather than 50%. I just hope that it won’t be noisy there and that they don’t wake me up, but I know better. There’s no way we’d get decent civilized neighbors. Tom says that being one-bedrooms, they’ll be less likely to raise hell, but I’m sure we’ll get some form of trouble. A drunk who loves to blast music and has a zillion drinking buddies over all the time. So while we may not get screaming kids and barking dogs, I’m sure there’ll be music and lots of banging. There are pros and cons to both houses and apartments. In houses, you’re less likely to have noise/trouble, but the lease is longer. In an apartment, you can at least complain about problem neighbors, though it’s also just as easy for them to complain about you, and that’s what they do here. That bitch that complained about my stomping at the Townhouse; that never would’ve happened in Arizona, though Arizona had many other faults to make up for it.

Meanwhile, I’ll just hope that La Vista’s reasonably quiet and that the housekeepers aren’t pests.

I’m excited about this Sunday. We’re going to the Chinese place. I hope you know who will be there, but there are no guarantees she’ll be there or even be the one waiting on us if she is. Still, I look forward to my pork fried rice.

Saturday, October 2, 2004

Well, here we are. We’re at La Vista. The owner’s Indian as well, and seems pretty nice. I don’t get the impression the housekeepers will be pests from the way he said he doesn’t have the rooms serviced every day in order to keep the costs down. I assured him I’d go to them when I needed something.

This room is much nicer than Tina’s and the Arab’s. It’s much roomier and even has two beds, a plush chair and a tub. We’re also on the end for once, which is nice. That is, so long as the people next door don’t go making up for it by slamming doors like they did earlier when they went out. Like I said, I can’t fathom why people feel so compelled to slam doors. And why can’t they sit still when they’re in their rooms and not keep going in and out so much?

They have a heated pool here, though I doubt anyone would want to use it. It looks pretty disgusting. It’s green like our pool in Phoenix would often be.

The Mexicans didn’t party hearty like I thought they would last night, but I can’t say I’ll miss all their bumps and bangs. Also, the ones to one side of us often blasted their TV.

I can hear the housekeeper next door now, but that’s nothing compared to when Tina’s husband and his dad would go crashing into the rooms next to ours to clean. Every day they’d wake me up, though I appreciated the favor at the same time because it helped keep me on somewhat of a schedule. Getting up at 10:00 this morning was hard after not crashing till 4:00. My body’s crying out to go off schedule. It wants to push forward so bad! I’m hoping I’ll be able to let my schedule be whatever it wants to be in an apartment, but that’ll all depend on how often they wake me up. Like I said, I’ll always be sleep-cursed, always.

I’m enjoying the modern conveniences of city life. I don’t miss the long drive up to the mountain. Neither does Tom. I realize it’s easier said than done to say we’ll escape the city the first chance we get. Why bother when we’d only end up right back in it again in a matter of time? If we can find a tolerable place here, why not stay here?

I look forward to going to the Chinese place tomorrow, though it wouldn’t surprise me if God made sure whatever-her-name-is was either not there or not able to wait on us because she’s a woman. Women weren’t anymore meant to be than rural living, and when they are, they’re never for long!

Later…

The nap I tried to fight off won me over after all. Tom went to take a nap in his bed, so the rat and I climbed into the other bed after he climbed up my pant leg for attention. With Blondie under the covers at my feet, I drifted off. It was light out when I fell asleep and dark when I woke up, telling me I must’ve been out for 2-3 hours. The fact that I slept with only the AC/heater on ‘fan only’ should tell you how quiet it is here. Those obnoxious door-slammers were actually late check-outs. Whoever’s over there now has been quiet so far. It wouldn’t hurt my feelings if they signed up for a week, but I know they’ll be gone tomorrow. I wonder how often there’ll be someone over there.

When Tom got up close to 8:30, we went to Mollie’s for dinner. I got a huge shrimp salad and he got his usual hotdog and fries.

I’m going to be up all damn night for sure. If I can sleep from 6 AM-2 PM, though, I should still be on for the Chinese place. How I hope she’s there and that she waits on us! I can’t get her off my mind. There’s just something about her. Why oh why are they always famous, taken, or available only after I’m taken? I’m not saying for sure that she’s gay/bi or that she’s even single if she is, but I wouldn’t be surprised if she was. Gay/bi, I mean. Taken, I don’t know. I just get a hell of a strong feeling she’s both gay/bi and attracted to me by the way she smiled at me so much the first time around, then hugged me the last time while telling Tom how nice he was to bring me there. I don’t know why she’d be attracted to an overweight 38-year-old, but I wish Tom was more like your average guy sexually. I don’t mean in bed, cuz I just don’t care about that anymore, but I wish he was ok with the idea of me seeing women on the side just for sex. If my heart is with him, should it matter who I give my body to? But it’s like he wants me celibate or very close to it. I can’t have much sex with him, I can’t have it with women, and so who can I have it with? Already it’s been over a week since the last time we got it on. I knew this would be the case too, but that’s beside the point. My wanting to get to know this waitress better has nothing to do with him or how often we do or don’t do it. I just don’t think it’s fair of him to expect me to be celibate just because he’s got no appetite.

I also wish he wouldn’t spend so much time with the TV going. We do everything with the TV, so it seems, and I have to wait till he’s either working or sleeping so I can concentrate on reading. I put up with it, though, cuz I know he loves TV as much as I love music. Plus, we usually read together at night, and I know he’ll be without TV for a while once we finally get settled somewhere.

I just hope I can hear myself think wherever we end up and that the neighbors don’t go waking me up like crazy or complaining about me singing. If they do – tough. I’ll be using only the headphones, or mostly the headphones, and I won’t be singing at night.

Sunday, October 3, 2004

The Chinese place wasn’t nearly as busy as it was the last time, we were there two weeks ago. No, we weren’t waited on by “Kate” as I call the tall, slender, dark-eyed, dark-haired, somewhat loud waitress, though it didn’t make any difference. She still chatted with me anyway whenever she’d go by. Again, I’d be really surprised if she weren’t gay and attracted to me. You just don’t normally carry on with someone else’s customer as if you’re old buddies after you’ve only seen them twice before, once without ever saying a word to them.

Shortly after we were seated, she stopped to tell me I wanted the kids’ foo young if I wanted to avoid getting too much. Then she asked…wasn’t I the one who ordered it from her and got too much? I said yes, but that this time I was going to order pork fried rice, and then she went about her business, throwing smiles at me from time to time along the way. At one point, she walked past our table, then turned back to smile at me.

As we were leaving, the waitress who waited on us went to take care of us at the register while Kate bussed our table, saying something like, “It was nice seeing you again, hun.” Then she asked how the pork fried rice was. I told her it was fine. Then, as she was walking towards me, I told her we were looking for a duplex to rent and asked if she had any suggestions. She said there was a cute one on 9th Street (I guess downtown the streets are numbered and uptown the streets just have names).

Anyway, she definitely is older. Like late 30s, early 40s. Not the greatest-looking chick, but certainly not the worst. She has a nice body and I do like dark hair and eyes, though I don’t know if her hair is dyed or not. I dig the idea of seeing her and flirting with her. I always thought flirting was fun as long as it doesn’t get out of hand like it did with Teddy Bear. On the other hand, it’s not like I literally “flirt” with her. I know Tom wouldn’t appreciate that. I wish he wouldn’t care since it’s only another woman, but I’m sure he would. He wouldn’t sit on me and stop me, but I know it’d hurt his feelings so I take this into consideration. I wouldn’t want him doing anything to hurt my feelings so I respect his. As it was, he seemed more talkative than usual, as if he was trying to distract me from what was going on around me. Would I go with her if I were single? Definitely. Like I said, she’s no Kate, Gloria or Linda, but she’s not half bad either. She doesn’t have the nicest speaking voice, though. It’s loud enough to be easily audible, but it’s a bit hoarse-sounding, suggesting she may smoke. She always wears her hair in a ponytail which is a little below the middle of her back.

Today’s experience shoots down Tom’s theory that she was only being nice the last time we saw her to get a good tip, because why would you go out of your way to be so nice and kind and chatty with someone you aren’t even waiting on that you barely know?

In other news, Tom got a scratch ticket and won $8. To save money, we’re going to eat in the motel room more often. Since they have a refrigerator and microwave, we figured we might as well use them.

I like this place a lot better than Tina’s, as nice as she was. I met the regular housekeeper today and let her know that due to my being a late sleeper, I’ll go to her when we need something. She assured me that’d be ok.

I can’t believe how nice the weather is here! Maybe it isn’t as bad as Massachusetts, though I still think that at least December - February will be bad.

Later…

I cannot believe how much quieter this motel is, not that I’m complaining, and I know there’s someone next to us. An older couple, I think.

Anyway, I tried to read, but I can’t concentrate. My mind keeps wandering to “Kate” and I wonder – is she thinking of me, too? Just because nothing can ever happen between us doesn’t make me any less curious. Again, she isn’t half bad when you consider how ugly most gay women are.

But what could she possibly see in me? She certainly can’t like me for my body, and since I still don’t yet have much in the way of hair, it must be my face, mainly my eyes. They’re the only asset I’ve got going for me at the moment. Also, just as straights seem to go for those who look like them, women tend to go for opposites. Except for the fact that we both have brown hair, she’s tall, brown-eyed and thin.

I wish we could at least be friends, but I think even that may make Tom uncomfortable. Especially when I remember how jealous he seemed to be over Kim and Kim and I were nothing to each other in that way. Still, it’s frustrating to know I could simply hand her my number and that she’d almost certainly call me, whereas I couldn’t have gotten a woman this easily when I was single if I tried, but see, that’s just it. More often than not, it’s when I don’t try for something or even go out of my way to avoid it that I end up getting it! Here I’ve got this woman I like who seems to like me, even though she may smoke and be a bit moody, maybe even airheaded, and I can’t even have a friendship with her! Oh well. There are worse things in life like being homeless and living in motels with no one in the world who gives a damn about us, including Tom’s own family. Maybe that’s another reason I want a friendship with her; so I could feel like there was one person, just one person, who gave a damn that wasn’t on the other side of the country.

I don’t want to work on my stories until I can do so on my desktop, so Tom suggested I begin another one, perhaps a short story. A very short story. Maybe I’ll do a funny story with Kate and Tina as the main characters.

Speaking of stories, here’s another uncanny case of art imitating life. One of the stories I began in Phoenix starts off with a couple who meet in a restaurant. The FBI customer likes the waitress who likes her back, though what transpires between these characters certainly couldn’t transpire between Kate and me!

I just can’t believe someone who looks like this restaurant chick could like me. Anyone who knows me knows I’ve been notorious for getting women who were so-so-looking, if not downright ugly. Only Anne Marie, Kacey and Teddy Bear were attractive, but look how long they lasted, and of course Teddy Bear and I never did more than flirt. Anyway, If you showed me a picture of everyone who works there (or at least who I know to work there) and asked me to guess which one likes me, I’d probably guess that big fat ugly blond chick that’s been there ever since we started going there. Then if someone had said I was wrong and pointed to the one that really has a crush on me, I’d have been like, “Really? No way!”

Tuesday, October 5, 2004

This motel is definitely the best so far. It’s quieter and the housekeeper doesn’t pester us. I slept from 6 AM-2 PM and not once did anything wake me up.

I was thinking of Kate and wondering if she was thinking of me, too. Perhaps not at this minute, since most people are asleep at 2:00 in the morning. As much as I’m still not even close to being a people-person, I must admit we’ve met some rather interesting characters in this tiny town, and Tom agrees.

I just wish I could go to the Chinese place alone sometime and be waited on by her! I’d love to see her behavior then. But I won’t unless we end up living really close to the place so I could walk there, cuz I’d feel weird having Tom drop me off there. That’s ok, though, cuz I really believe I can take advantage of her fondness and make an incense sale or two from her in time, and play my fun little game of chase-but-don’t-capture. I find it awfully hard to believe that if I gave her my number she wouldn’t suddenly love incense even if she never did before, if only for an excuse to talk to me. I just don’t get what she sees in me, although that’s what I said about a few folks back in jail. It’s just that now I have a few more years on me and a few more pounds as well.

I had an idea that Tom likes as well. When I thought of the fact that the only two times we sold incense were in person and not online, I realized that we were going about it the wrong way by using the net. We can’t expect people to come to us, we have to go to them. So, although I don’t expect to ever make any real money by selling incense, we may make up business cards to pass out to every acquaintance we have and are going to have.

You know you’re not with your typical male when you ask your husband if he’d sleep with a woman for 50 grand and he says no. I totally believe him, too.

We read naked in bed earlier, though we didn’t do anything. Neither of us was interested, I guess you could say.

Later…

Again we didn’t do it, and therefore, I gave Tom an ultimatum because I’m not going to keep going through this with him where I’m his occasional lay. We’re either full-time lovers or no-time lovers. I’m not going to be an object of convenience for him or else I will get it on with chicks on the side and I’d have every right to, too. He said he was worried I’d have cramps, and once again, isn’t it funny how it always comes down to me? Never can he admit he has no desire and not use me as a crutch or an excuse of some kind to cover for his own lack of appetite. Isn’t it also funny how he was all gung-ho over being able to screw in a real bed, yet we’ve only done it twice since we’ve lived in motels and only at my initiation? Well, like I said, he may still get off on these games, but I’m way sick of them and this is part of why I don’t have much desire of my own to get it on with him. His games and excuses really turn me off. Maybe tomorrow, if he “remembers” to hit on me, I’ll be like, “Nah, you’re tired and so I’ve got to be considerate of that and wait,” and see how he likes it. I mean, really! Why would he wait to see if I got cramps? If he put the moves on me when I had cramps, I’d tell him, but I don’t think that’s it. I think that like me, he just wasn’t in the mood, though unlike me, he couldn’t say so. Tomorrow, though, I’ll simply tell him, “Look, let’s just wait and see if we’re ever a bit more eager than we have been.”

Meanwhile, I’ll sit here and wonder about Kate, even fantasize a bit, too. Next time I see her, I’ll get a name. Who could she be? Hmm, she kind of looks like a Margot. Maybe even a Kathy or a Diane. Could be Susan or Joanne. She strikes me as the type to have an ordinary, common name, though I don’t sense her name to be Mary. Maybe Maryanne.

It’s been a year since I cut my hair. I’d say I got a good 7 inches over the last year, and my bangs are now long enough to pull back into a high ponytail. It’s just that I’m graying so fast! I may dye it either dark brown or dark red once we get settled somewhere if we ever do get settled somewhere.

Never has the loathing and disrespect for his mother been as great as it is now. Year after year I wish she’d just drop dead so we can be comfortable, if only for a short while, yet the immortal bitch just won’t die! She’s going to live another decade with our shit luck. It’s like, come on already! You’re 81 years old, you say you got all these problems, so die bitch, die!

Anyway, I get the sense that Tom’s more disappointed than he lets on over the fact that his mother couldn't care less that he and his wife are homeless, but I expected it. I mean, I’m disappointed too, to know that someone who’s supposed to care doesn’t give a shit, but that’s how it usually works. I’m sure Kate would be more sympathetic to our situation than his family is. Hell, even Tina was more sympathetic, for God’s sake! I don’t even think we’ll get birthday/Christmas money, though he does. That’s just optimistic Tom for you.

The gay-bashing goes on and I’m sure it always will. Those against gay marriage have bumper stickers saying, “One Man, One Woman.” Why can’t those of us who hate blacks have bumper stickers saying, “One Nation, One Color?” Well, the answer to that’s easy enough – because it’s only okay to hate gays, that’s why! Tom flips through channels and I catch this religious station saying that gays and lesbians have a higher rate of mental problems, which is bullshit, then another channel has a cock saying that not even the most caring, compassionate woman can be a “dad,” and on and on and on! I realize that if there’s still so much hatred towards gays in what’s almost 2005, it’ll never get better. Never. Instead, more and more people are going to keep throwing blacks up on this pedestal they don’t deserve to be on. It’s going to be blacks and Hispanics first, then other minorities like Asians and Indians, then whites, and then gays last.

Wednesday, October 6, 2004

Anyway, this is the second time the toilet’s clogged up, and I am not going to play fix-it with other people’s shit! If he wants to deal with it, he can, but I’ll stay out of it, thank you.

Anyway, I haven’t been woken up here so far. It seems I’ve slept better than I did on the land in this motel and in the Arab guy’s, but worse than on the land in the Townhouse and Tina’s.

Tom got a $4 and a $10 winning ticket. I just wish we could win thousands or even just hundreds!

Thursday, October 7, 2004

Last night I told Tom I’d work on making as many of his coworkers sick as I could to lessen his chances of getting let go in the end. Ironically, the mean-looking chick who stabbed her husband had to go to the hospital today. Pleurisy, I guess it was.

I cannot wait to get into an apartment! I know it’s going to be noisy as hell, but I want another room to retreat to other than the bathroom. As soon as he gets in, that TV goes on and I’m forced to watch it whether I want to or not. I can’t read when the fucking thing’s on either so I have to wait. I can’t get any space unless he’s either working or asleep.

Mr. Optimist thinks we’ll get an ok neighbor. Well, if we do, they’ll be out of there before we even get one suitcase unpacked, and in will come Mommy with an obnoxious little brat of a kid, or a partying college kid. Nah, I doubt either of those will be the case. We’ll get the freeloaders. We always do.

He says you’re less likely to get noisy neighbors or dogs in a 1-bedroom, but noise curses don’t care. I was in a studio, for Christ’s sake, and look what a nightmare that butch was at the Vista after I complained about her, not yet knowing what a crime that was in that state. Besides, there’s nothing to say the 1-bedroom duplex can’t be next to a big house with lots of people and dogs. In the end, I think banging and car stereos will be the highlights of the noises. When I say “banging,” I mean doors slamming, cabinets closing, etc. All it takes is one ferocious neighbor. After seeing that butch make nearly as much noise as the family next to me in the NHA did, I knew it didn’t matter. A curse is a curse is a curse.

They finally woke me up here. A couple of bangs woke me up midway through my sleep. I’m worried about my schedule. I can’t seem to back it up or push it forward, and if that Arab idiot was right about it being the law that one must switch motel rooms after staying in one that they paid to stay in for a week, then we have to move yet again! Will there ever come a day when we don’t have to move every few days to a few years?!?!

Friday, October 8, 2004

Tom read the short story I wrote with Tina and Kate as the main characters. Knowing he expected them to get it on, I had them meet just like we did in real life, then meet at Kate’s place and not be able to be more than friends in the end. Then I had her look-alike sister-in-law break the news to Kate because Tina didn’t have the heart to do so herself. In the end, Kate runs into them in a store and is hurt, angry and confused at first, with the story ending with everyone agreeing to be friends. It’s only 9 pages.

Tom read the story earlier tonight, too.

It was very windy this evening. A dust storm blew in, but no rain. Just a bit of drizzle. It’s a good thing I wasn’t trying to sleep because the wind was rattling the door in its frame.

Tom talked to the guy today at the desk and he said we could stay in this room for another week, also they want to service this room tomorrow. That’d be fine with me since I don’t like to sleep on the same sheets or use the same towels for over a week, and the room needs vacuuming. So, since I’m not going to fall asleep till close to dawn, I’ll have to have my sleep broken up. I’ll have to get up a few hours after falling asleep, but I can go back to sleep afterward.

Tom and I were reading some incredible land/house deals for just a couple of grand to about 20 grand, but I still think we’ll always struggle because we always have. I’m also going to be afraid to attempt to leave the city again no matter how noisy the apartment is because I’m going to fear getting stuck back here no matter how much money we save up. I’m at a tug of war, you could say, because I don’t want to stay in the city, though I’m afraid to leave it. Meanwhile, I can’t leave it, so we’re going to shoot for something in the $300 range. Tom thinks we’ll be here 6 months to a year, but at this point, I just want out of motels! I don’t care if it’s a pitiful 600 square feet at this point, I just want out of here. This motel is spacious and quieter, but it’s still a motel! I want a place where I can service us at my own convenience, rather than have someone else do it for me at their convenience.

I thought of something that may prompt the queen to send Christmas money, and that’s other people’s gifts. If other family members bring gifts there for us, then they may ship them up to us, and if they do, they may include crap of their own, including money. It’d be nice if they did, but it also wouldn’t surprise me if they didn’t bother with Christmas or my birthday. If they don’t care that we’re homeless, then why should they care about that?

Sunday, October 10, 2004

My schedule is all botched up now. I fell asleep at 5:30 yesterday morning and Tom woke me up over and over again. He went in and out a few times and woke me up each time he came and went, then twice with the bathroom door. So, I got up at noon and we went to Mollie’s. Then we returned to the room and he took off to run some errands while I had a fluent conversation in Spanish with the housekeeper (I was proud of how well I did!) Then he returned and I insisted he stay inside and sit still so I could go back to bed, and I did. I slept for 5 hours, yet ironically, I was still groggy. So after being forced to watch TV with him, I stood up for a few hours, then when 9:00 rolled around, I asked him to cut the TV so I could relax in peace, thus crashing for another hour or so. I got up to listen to music and then I laid around till now, and I’m wondering – what in the world has me so damn drained?! Just the usual sleep curse, I guess, plus the stress of motel life, never knowing from day to day what’s going on. I wish I could have some security and stability in my life and break free of the 13-year sleep curse that’s been put on me, but that’ll never happen. Oh, I may get temporary security and stability at some point, but a week in my life without having my sleep disrupted? Yeah, right!

I said I didn’t miss Arizona, and I don’t. However, if it was a choice between this life and the one back in Maricopa (minus the sickos), I think I would happily take that old life back and settle for the lack of privacy, the ferocious heat, the land being trashed, the place reeking of horse shit, etc. Even the occasional sonic booms beats life in the city.

I don’t know where my schedule’s heading. I’d like it to flip around, which would mean going to bed at around noon and hopefully staying that way for at least 8 hours if he could sit still and be quiet enough. He’s driving me nuts with the fucking TV. That’s all he does when he’s here and awake and I so miss having more than one room! Here, if I don’t want to deal with it, I can’t get away from it unless I hibernate in the bathroom. I feel like I have no space and no privacy, and it’s been worse lately, the later I’ve been getting up. I get up with the TV, I eat with the TV, I live with the TV! He rarely likes to play computer games or read, and of course, his sexual appetite is next to nil.

I still feel pretty out of it. It’s like I’m devoid of all energy and I can’t wake up. I’ve been taking my vitamins, so I don’t know what it is other than the stress and lack of sleep. The question is, why? Why is it so important to whatever put the sleep curse on me that I sleep so poorly? I’ve been asking this for years now, and the only answer I can think of makes no sense; because of the people I woke up during my years of prank phone calls. But I’ve only woken up one person for every thousand times I’ve been woken up, so if this is payback for that, then it’ll never stop punishing me for it!

Tuesday, October 12, 2004

Tom has a cold, I’m sorry to say. Apparently, I’m still immune to colds, but I’m no longer able to protect him and that worries me. All my powers are pretty much history, save for negative predictions and keeping myself from illness. As it is, I’m starting to wonder if we’re going to make it out of here this weekend. He’s trying, though. He got updated lists and spoke with the property management people some more. I would still prefer a house, but I can see he prefers a duplex. This is because they’re cheaper and would cost less to heat. He doesn’t want us to have to skimp and be uncomfortable when it comes to heat, but that’s all we do is skimp. Our whole life is skimping this, compromising that, and all kinds of sacrifices and settlements, so does it matter? House, duplex – they’ll all suck either way, so I don’t really care so long as we get the hell out of motels.

A lot of people think renting is bad because you lose the money, but look how easy it is for some of us to lose houses, so what difference does it make? I don’t want to own anything again as much as I’ll always wish I could.

This motel, as much as I want out, continues to be the best so far, save for the fact that it’s got no internet access or another room. They don’t bug us here, and the room next door is usually quieter than they were in other places. They get on my nerves occasionally with the door-slamming and attention-getting tactics like that, but I don’t hear voices and TVs like at other places.

I still think of suicide periodically, and that it may be best since we go through so much more shit than good. I’m more and more convinced that life will be one long-term problem after another as long as we live. At our age, I just don’t see how things could get better. I’ve at least agreed to give Mr. Optimist time to see that no, we can’t get a quiet place. Not even in the tiny town of Klamath Falls. A noise curse is a noise curse. It will get us wherever it can. It doesn’t care where we go. As long as it can stick next to us just one loud, rude, obnoxious asshole that just won’t shut up, it will. Meanwhile, when he can finally see and admit that old curses and patterns really do have a way of following us no matter where we go and that life will continue to be everything we don’t want it to be and nothing we do want it to be, he’s agreed to research poison online as a possible way of killing ourselves. There are too many risks with hanging and shit like that, so he’s going to investigate some form of poison. One would think there are some fast-acting poisons out there, though at this point, if I have to suffer 5 minutes of hell before I die, it may be worth it to get to nothingness in the end, rather than put up with 50 more years of hell on earth.

I don’t understand why God doesn’t take his mother. All she’s doing is taking up space and burdening others while we could really use her help, and the only way she could help us at this point is to get dead. I mean, damn that bitch! It just won’t fucking die! I’ve been putting spells on her like crazy yet I know it’s worthless. The selfish bitch has got God’s protection and many years left in her. On the other hand, does it really matter if she takes 10 more years to die? We’ll still need money then too, if we’re still alive.

We had a couple of cold days, but they say it’s to warm up to around 80˚ within the next few days. Not bad for mid-October.

Tom brought in my box of Barbies that’s been in the truck. That way I can personalize the place a bit and feel like we have something around that’s ours other than clothes. I’ve only got a few displayed, though, since there’s only so much room in here, and what with the rat running loose a lot.

We took a walk earlier. I just felt like I had to get out. I didn’t want Tom to accompany me. It wasn’t that I didn’t appreciate his company, it’s just that he was sick and I wanted him to rest. Still, he insisted on tagging along, so I let him.

I never did get sick, like I said, but I was so rundown. All I did was sleep for the last few days, though I’m still on nights. I just can’t seem to get onto days to save my life, but oh well. I’ll sleep when I sleep. If things could go our way for once – just for once – I should only have one more move coming up for a while and that’s to the apartment.

I can’t stop thinking of that waitress. I hope I get to see her this Sunday, but I might not if I can’t push my schedule up or pull it back. I won’t be able to give her my number this Sunday if we’re not in someplace by then. If I’m right about her liking me, just handing her my number should be enough of an incentive for her to call me, but I’d rather have dolls and incense as a hook, and I won’t have that till we are in a place. Still, I wonder, will she really call? And if so, just what kind of friendship could we have?

I guess I’d have to say I doubt we’ll get together in any way shape or form. Look how many times in the past I thought I’d be getting together with various people, yet I never did. Because women were always so not meant to be, not that I’d want a relationship with this woman, God will send her a girlfriend right around the time I get my number to her. I just don’t see Him letting me be even just friends with a gay or bisexual woman.

On the other hand, do I really want to have a lover on the side who gets off on me and whom I get off on? Nah. As exciting as the prospect of variety may seem, I don’t really need that. When Tom doesn’t cum, it’s for a reason, and as “abnormal” and as “freakish” as that may be, we both don’t want a child, so it’s okay. Again, I know it could be for other reasons that he doesn’t cum, but I still have a hard time buying Helen’s it-just-doesn’t-quite-feel-good-enough literature. I think he’s very much in control of himself, and I think he’d not cum in any unprotected woman. This doesn’t mean he’d get squirt-happy if I suddenly had a hysterectomy, though, cuz that’d be admitting to both himself and to me that I was right. Besides, he’s gotten himself so accustomed to not cumming, and when you don’t get that horny that easily or that often, holding back isn’t so hard to do.

I still don’t see what this woman sees in me anyway. Can’t she see how chunked out I am?

With Tom’s work probation period being up in just two weeks from now, we’re both anxious and nervous. It’s nerve-wracking to know that just like others have, they could take our lives and trash them, but at the same time, we want to hurry up and get the probation over with.

I’d like to think God can have the heart to say to Himself that these people have been picked on enough. They’ve lost so much that I’m not going to take the job, too. They’ve been taken for enough and their lives are in shambles, so I’ll at least spare them the loss of the job.

But I can’t count on this. It’s because of all He has taken from us that worries me. If He could take the things He has and if He could prevent us from achieving such ordinary goals, He could take our lives in His hands and crush the life right out of them if He wants us dead, and dead is just how we’ll get if He does strip us of what little we have left.

If we do live, we’re still going to save as much as we can, even though we’ll be in apartments for years, because we’ll need the money for if he gets fired or laid off in the future, and that’s bound to happen. It happens to the best of us. We also still want to go to San Francisco to get that mannequin I’ll have to move around like crazy, and on a cruise as well. You can bet your ass we’re going first class when we do! As in hotels with a capital H where they’ll wait on us as if we were royalty.

I decided not to bother getting the fillings I need. I just don’t want to put extra money in my mouth or go back to playing appointments, so if I let them just decay, there’ll be no teeth to have to worry about. We play fix-it enough outside of my mouth that I don’t need to play it inside of it as well.

Oregon is one “regular” state. I don’t think I’ve gone a day without shitting, except for when I took those anti-shit pills.

Wednesday, October 13, 2004

Tom is going to fill out an application and hopefully check out apartments too, after work. Typical Mr. Optimistic, telling me that logically speaking, the noise/sleep curses will be off once we get in someplace. Yeah, right! I wish to hell he could be right, but I know I’ll be cursed in these departments for the rest of my life, especially with the sleep. Some curses simply just don’t go away. Not overnight, not slowly. All I can do is just suffer through it and live with it, for once again, God’s got me trapped in a situation I can’t escape from anyway, so what choice do I have but to kill myself? And damn Him to hell for not allowing me the ability to keep a schedule and for giving me insomnia. Being in the city, I could work and double our income, but that’s another thing we’re cursed with – money, which is probably why I don’t have what it takes to work. Until they come up with real home jobs, and I know they won’t, I won’t be working outside of the house. I’m totally convinced that God made sure I’d be sleep-cursed not only to keep us from making extra money now but to make sure we end up struggling after Tom’s retired.

Financial struggling. Can’t imagine life without it. Tom still thinks we’re going to save a ton of money and have a life while we do so, but I know better. I’m sure all kinds of emergencies will come up to steal whatever we save. If we were meant to have money, we wouldn’t be in this predicament. I just look forward to the day his mother finally goes belly-up so we can at least have a temporary respite from the everyday scraping of pennies. That’s how I figure our lives will be – mostly struggling with occasional bursts of comfort. I know my allowance and shopping will be temporary like last time, too. If I were meant to have the dolls I’ve been wanting, I wouldn’t have wanted them for as long as I’ve wanted them. Do you know how many years I’ve had my heart set on some of these custom-made dolls? Too many!

Anyway, I’m not going to give God the satisfaction of seeing me break down in tears while He’s laughing his ass off when the neighbors get door-slammy on us, stealing my peace when I’m trying to read or work on the computer and waking me up every other day. Also, I’m so sick of bouncing around like a fucking basketball, so no matter how bad it gets, I’m staying put with no tears! Every time the bumps and bangs get to me, I’ll think of how I can enjoy the easy convenience of mailing mail from our door, receiving mail at our door, ordering pizzas if we want to, dumping trash with no problem, not having to worry about wells or having to spend a fortune on things that break. When the hot water tank blows or the roof leaks, it’s not our time and money gonna be spent on fixing it!

I wonder if Pa ever pleads with God – Give the poor girl a break! You’ve taken so much from her, so must you take her sleep, too? It’d be nice if he’d at least let me have that much if He’s going to make me live in the city, but I know I’ll never get that, so why bother to hope?

Tom’s cold hasn’t turned out to be too bad, so that’s good. He hasn’t had to miss work.

Speaking of the usual sleep curse that’s very much a part of my life, as always, well, I’m dealing with that right now. Couldn’t imagine life without it. I had hoped to sleep into the evening yesterday, but sure enough, he woke me up when coming into the room. I didn’t hear him enter, but the room brightened so much with the way the sun shines on the door at that time and that’s what woke me. I took Benadryl and crashed last night from 11:00 to 3:00, and am bound and determined, as hard as I know it’ll be, to stay up till this evening. I want to not only be available to move this weekend if that’s what’s going to happen (though I’m beginning to have my doubts), I want to be available to go up to the land to get some more things and water the plants, and maybe to the Chinese place too, unless he doesn’t think we should spend the money just yet by going there.

That triplex we looked at still has two vacant units, and I can’t help but think, wouldn’t it be nice if I could talk Kate into moving into one if we do? I know that’ll never happen, but I can dream, can’t I? Dreams are about all I have at this point. Like the one where I magically fall on schedule and stay on it while I work at the Chinese place when Kate does so, she can drive me to and from the place, honored to do so, happy to get whatever time and attention she can from me.

I’m amazed at how often this place is filled up. Again, it makes me wonder if it isn’t cuz we’re here and if this isn’t another classic example of how we do so well at making others money. I bet business will die down when we leave. I don’t hear voices or the TV next door, but they never fail to let me know when they come and go. Whether it’s cuz of our presence or not, I still can’t believe there are so many people traveling at this time of year! I thought they were mostly truckers, but there are an awful lot of cars around for it to be mostly truckers.

I am so, so tired. This is totally the middle of the night for me and my body wants so badly to sleep! However, I know I’ll be glad I did it if I stay up. Then all I’ll have to do is hope I don’t get banged up by whoever’s going to come slamming in next. Meanwhile, I’ve got to try to keep myself entertained and busy somehow. It’s just that TV bores me, reading tires me out, and there’s only so much writing and listening to music I can do. I sang a bit earlier. Maybe I’ll do some more.

Later…

I’m still awake, though barely. I just went to dump some trash in their dumpster here. Those Mexies love to loiter outdoors, no matter what the weather. They really hate being indoors. What the hell are some of them doing there at this time anyway? Aren’t they supposed to be slaving away on the farm?

The number of pigs I see here really annoys me. We weren’t even out an hour yesterday evening when we went to Safeway and to KFC, yet we saw 3 squad cars. I questioned Tom as to whether or not they’re as crazy as they are down in Arizona since the place is constantly swarming with them, but he saw something that made him think they’re not as quick to jump on a person for every little thing they do. Some cock was panhandling when a cruiser went by. Tom saw the guy tuck his sign under his shirt and saw that the pigs saw it anyway but didn’t do anything. Well, I just hope I never have to find out just what the pigs and law are like here! If God could refrain from sending someone to provoke me into kicking their ass, I’d really appreciate it as that’d really help to ensure that I don’t get to know the local pigs/jail. It really frustrates me when trouble seems to come my way no matter how much I try to avoid it. Doing things to provoke others and asking for trouble is one thing, but what is this shit with me trying to mind my own business and go about my life in peace, yet I still get trouble? I keep trying to tell myself, relax, this isn’t Phoenix, what happened there was a fluke, history doesn’t have to repeat itself, but I can’t do that. It’s just too hard for me to think positively when the same old sorry shit happened to me over and over, year after year. As far as I can see, I have no reason to be hopeful and every reason to be fearful.

Thursday, October 14, 2004

God’s little bum here, signing in for another round of bitching. Not only am I furious at God for letting this happen to us, but oh how I’d love to get a hold of Tom’s mother! Oh, what I could do to her right about now, and I don’t give a shit how old and feeble she is! I never thought she of all people would cause me to be as disgusted and ashamed as I’ve come to be of her. I don’t give a shit that she doesn’t give a shit about me, but certainly it’s got to hurt Tom somewhat to see his multi-thousand-dollar mother sit on her lazy, hypochondriac ass while he barely keeps his head above water. If we don’t get anything for Christmas, she’ll hear from me one last time if I’m still alive. With nothing to lose, it’ll at least make me feel a little better to tell her off. Really, she makes me sick! And so does her shit daughter!

Anyway, it appears I’m still very much a doom psychic since I’m going to be right about us not making it into an apartment this Saturday. Tom thinks I’m still more than a doom psychic, though, because he’s already better when he shouldn’t be. What with the symptoms he had, he should’ve gotten worse than he did, and for 7-10 days, too. Being a doom psychic is fine, and I’m glad he got better so quickly, but why can’t I psych out the lottery?! Stupid question, I suppose, since the answer’s obviously because God wants us to suffer and to struggle. They won’t even let Tom see places till he fills out an application, and of course they’re going to want to pull a credit report, which thanks to the bastard back down at BOA, is going to be less than perfect.

Again, I can’t believe how one man’s spite could turn people’s lives upside down and inside out! It’s scary to know how others can have such a hold on us and that they can make us or break us at will. All this shit for over a year now, thanks to this one sick cock. And as always, it goes without saying that there’s not a damn thing we can do about it to fight back in any way. No, our wonderful God has this sick fuck well protected.

The events of my life do nothing to help my self-esteem, either. Normally, as an adult, I don’t care what others think or say about me, but just like a child loses confidence and self-esteem when their parents are always cutting them down, God’s apparent lack of concern for me has a way of making me not give a damn about what happens to me any more than He does. It’s making me think of turning inward and against myself. It’s like…if he doesn’t give a shit and if he thinks I deserve to suffer, then maybe I do. Perhaps I should abuse myself right along with Him and with others. Yeah, let’s all pick on the horrible Jodi S, why don’t we? Let’s make sure she and her husband live like poor-ass bums with nothing to live for but hopeless dreams. Let’s make sure she never even has money to buy another doll, for Christ’s sake! Even life’s simple pleasures are gone for me. I can still take a bubble bath, but I can’t get dolls, I can’t get more incense, I can’t get new clothes, I can’t get shit! I’m tired of wanting things I can never have, goddamn it! If I ever want to feel like something up there is on my side and gives a damn about me, all I’d have to do is get down on my knees and pray to scrape pennies like hell, miss out on doing/having the things I want, to be woken up constantly and to have to listen to noisy neighbors. Now those would be prayers/goals that are totally achievable.

Why does Tom want to continue living this way anyway? What’s it going to take for him to see that things are never going to improve but maybe for 5 minutes? Why does he want to go on living while God sits up in the sky and laughs his ass off at his expense? Does he want to be God’s little fool?

I guess the next step is to get a loan against the truck and the RV since God would never let us get away with stealing. Before we know it, we’ll be getting loans against our fucking lives! I mean, really, what do we do when we run out of stuff to sell? Should we sell our souls?

As for my schedule, I couldn’t hold out past noon yesterday, but sure enough, I woke right up 5 hours later when he got in. Then I fell asleep for a few hours in the evening and awoke again at 10:30. Now if I could just stay up for 16-18 hours, I can finally be up throughout at least most of the daytime.

Friday, October 15, 2004

Yesterday was a shitty day, but there was some good to it in the end. The sleep curse has gotten ever so bad. Like NHA and jail bad. I’m more convinced than ever that I’ll have problems with sleep all my life, some times being worse than others. If I could just have a day in my life with uninterrupted sleep, though, that would be just wonderful. I knew there was only so long I could keep the schedule going. I just had hoped it wouldn’t roll till we got in the apartment since a hotel is no place to roll schedules. If I were here alone it would be a bit easier, but whenever he comes in or needs to use the phone, I wake right up. So yesterday, after just a few hours of sleep, he came in and had to call to play round 3 of trying to get our money back from the satellite people, since we can’t use the system. I felt like shit. My head and stomach ached and my heart was racing.

However, the shrimp he got was way good. For just $4, he got shrimp for me, potato wedges for himself, and biscuits for Blondie. So after a few hours, I fell back asleep and managed to sleep till after midnight. This helps for going up to the land tomorrow so we can get more stuff and I can wish we could stay there in our imaginary dome house, rather than have to return to the city and its people and noise. I also hope to go to the Chinese place on Sunday, but that’s up in the air right now. We don’t even know where we’ll be tomorrow night. I just hope to get a room with a separate room in it at Mr. Serious’s (the Arab guy) if we were going to be forced to play motel for another week or two or more. Then we can be back listening to neighbors just like old times. I dread it as much as I look forward to it. I dread the bumps and bangs I’ll have to deal with, but I also want out of these fucking motels! I want to be able to at least try to save money, try to shop, try to get back into fitness, etc., and of course, I miss my stuff. I’ll be damned if I’ll pack Bailey away again like this, once I do get her. I didn’t pay $300 just to have her sit in a fucking box!

Tom filled out the application for AAA Property Management, but the black sickos may be a problem. Yes, even after not having them in our lives for a year and a half now, they may be back to haunt us yet again. This is because this place does criminal checks. Why, I don’t know. I mean, I can see the credit checks, but as long as they’re getting their money, why should they care about records? What I wonder, though, is will we ever be 100% free of the fucking sickos? Or maybe at least 90% free of them?

I have mixed emotions about the queen sending birthday/Christmas money. On the one hand, I want the money. On the other, I want an excuse to really give the bitch a piece of my mind, along with her daughter, just because I can and because it would make me feel so good to do so. They’ve offended and insulted us enough that I’m more than overdue for a good telling off to them!

I don’t understand how I could make his coworkers and others sick without even trying, yet no matter how much I try to mentally throttle this bitch, she won’t even sneeze! This pathetic piece of shit is going to live another decade easily. The more I think about it, the more I believe she feigned most of the illnesses she’s claimed to have since Dad died. Yes, she was misdiagnosed by some of the quacks she’s seen, but I still think a lot of these chronic and or terminal diseases were complete fabrications on her part. After all, I was right in suspecting the selfish bitch could write, and well, it’s just a gut feeling that goes along with being better and better aquatinted with her selfish personality over the years. I think she could even live alone if she wanted to. She’s slow, but she’s not disabled. She’s only living with Miss Perfect because it’s easier and because she’s a sympathy junkie.

I learned part of why this place is packed so much of the time. According to the owner, there are workers here who are working on the new Walmart Supercenter, some bridge somewhere, and some other thing.

Monday, October 18, 2004

It wasn’t until this early morning that I finally caught up on my sleep. Friday night at the La Vista I woke up at 10:30 after barely 5 hours of sleep, making the next day tiresome for me. We went up to the land first. Nothing’s been messed with. I was amazed to find the plants looked even healthier, though the big leaf one finally gave up. That’s okay. It looked horrible and its pot was chipped. After grabbing a few more things and leaving the land, which of course, I did not want to do, we went to look at the triplex again.

It’s really squeezed in there by trees and other buildings, that’s for sure. There’s a duplex right next to it. I was wrong in saying the housing situation was different than Arizona because it’s not. You’re either all jammed in close together or you’ve got hundreds of feet in between. There’s really not much of a happy medium here either. There were also a few yards in the area with dogs, one being across the street.

The hill it’s on is so steep. It’s on 7th Street, and I guess the summit is on the next street over on 6th Street. We peered through the windows and saw some immediate pros and cons. The living room is huge and appears to have new carpet, so that’s good. The kitchen and bedroom appeared adequate, but the bedroom wasn’t carpeted. We couldn’t see all of the bedroom or any of the bathrooms. What worried me the most was that next door’s kitchen was right next to the bedroom of the end unit we want, and we don’t know if there’s a bedroom closet and if it’s between their kitchen and the bedroom if there is. My biggest fear of moving in there, obviously, would be God jumping to take advantage of that by sending me some cabinet-happy neighbor. As it is, I picture us with someone who’s home all day. If we don’t get stuck with freeloaders, it wouldn’t surprise me in the least if we got a couple with a little brat and one of its parents stood home all day with it. Tom, though, thinks it’s less likely because of the location and the fact that it’s not the cheapest 1-bedroom, saying that it’s usually when you get the cheapest of whatever that there’s trouble. Again, though, noise curses find a way to get through anything, and that dividing wall looked awfully thin. They build them thin because the builders don’t care since they’re not the ones who are going to have to live there, and most people are the opposite of me; they want to hear what’s going on around them. You know how people are, always loving to stick their noses into other people’s business. This is a complaining state too, so I wonder if I’d be able to sing there without anyone giving me any shit about it. I would think I’d have an easier chance of singing there without any hassles as opposed to a motel where there are more people milling around. Tom has a point, though, in saying that there wouldn’t be much traffic along that street. The road actually forks, and while they’re allowed to park in front of their houses on the opposite side of the street, which is higher than the other side, they can’t park by this duplex. I just don’t like that it’s $350 with only water/sewer/trash included. Heat and electricity, which are the two biggies, aren’t included. I’d like to think, though, that that and the fact that it’s on such a steep hill (not even Jehovah’s demons should be wanting to climb up there to bug people), will keep the middle unit empty for a while, but I doubt it. I think that if we get in there, God will send us neighbors right away. People, people, people. Why does He want me with them? Why is it so damn important to Him that I don’t isolate myself from others??? Why can’t I have my own quiet, private little corner of the earth where no one bothers me?

We also hope the area’s wired for cable, or else we’ll be stuck with an old dial-up modem that takes forever!

We also looked at a strip of studios, though I thought the location looked horrible. It may be convenient, but it’s practically right off of a gas station which is off a busy intersection. I’d think the car stereos there would be in abundance.

There’s also a house available, but it’s in Mills Addition (a shabby area) right by a school.

Anyway, this triplex is in sort of a dumpy area off downtown, though it’s pretty ritzy compared to places I’ve lived in Springfield.

I don’t know how long we’ll be in KF, period. This place has no hold on us now that we can’t live in the woods, which was why we came here in the first place. Because we’ve been surprised lately with finding out that things we thought were so really aren’t so, perhaps coastal land isn’t as expensive as we thought. Particularly in southern Oregon or northern California. Washington would be too expensive cuz that’s where Microsoft is. Plus, I think I’d hate that climate. Too Massachusetts-like with nothing but rain, rain, rain. Too much rain gets as old as too much heat and sunshine.

We checked in with Mr. Serious, who seemed a bit nicer this time around, into a 2-room for $175. That’s better than the $210 at the La Vista we were paying and what the Mexicans cost us at Tina’s when they were here. I’m so glad they’re gone now! Sure enough, Mr. Serious said I missed out on some good money while they were here. Of course I did. There’s a no-making-money-allowed rule on me.

He offered us a room with a kitchenette for $650 a month, saying that if we decided to stay the winter, he’d make us a better deal. While this is a smoking deal, considering the fact that you’d have no bills to pay and don’t do your own cleaning, there’d be no internet access, and the room is so small I’d surely go insane of claustrophobia. Plus, the bathrooms suck here. The only good thing about it was that it didn’t have any rooms adjacent to it. It would be a last resort if the Arizona sickos did end up hindering us from getting a place.

They’re up now next door. Yeah, it was pretty quiet until they came banging in last night. These walls are pathetically thin. So much so that I could make out a few words here and there. Someone just went into the bathroom, which is next to the enclosed room I’m in and coughed. Then they flushed the toilet. I don’t know why he put them in there when he knows I don’t like that. It doesn’t appear to be a full house, leaving him no choice. Oh well. I slept well, and hopefully they’ll check out today and no one will come in tonight. At least they check in later here than they seemed to at the other places.

The only thing I don’t like about this place, besides the fact that it’s so rundown, and they’re banging and slamming God-knows-what over there, is that there’s not one single outlet in the separate room. Therefore, I’m running the sound machine on batteries. Because it’s quiet most of the time here, though, I can usually just wear an earplug.

It feels nice to feel rested after going so many days without enough sleep. I know to enjoy it too, as it’ll be a while before I sleep this well again. Especially if there’s someone next to us again tonight. It wouldn’t really make much of a difference if someone were to our left, what with the way the place is laid out, but those on the right can be heard really well.

As I’ve said before, another area we’re cursed in is with toilets. The toilet at the last place clogged up twice, and this one didn’t want to flush. Tom fixed it, then offered to fix the shower for me so it wouldn’t pour out in such a fierce concentrated stream, but I assured him I’d deal with it. Part of having to live in places you don’t own means you don’t play fix-it nearly as much. Then all we have to do is hope God doesn’t go breaking our personal things like the computers more often to make up for the lack of other responsibilities.

I miss the comfort of routine. It’s just that every time I get that, I lose it. Circumstances always come up to tear down whatever it is we settle into or achieve. I know better now than to throw out boxes after they’re unpacked when we get to wherever we’re going. No matter how much I may want to stay put, we’ll be moving around again soon enough. I just don’t get it, though. In Phoenix we wanted to move so badly for so long yet we were stuck there so God could use his precious little freeloaders as instruments of torture on us. Now, we can’t stop moving!

We’ve both gained some weight back. I’m in the low 130s. I brought my exercise ball back with me since there’s room in here to bounce. I’ll settle for just a 5-pound loss since I know circumstances will just throw me back up to where I am sooner or later. That’s another one of the many lessons I’ve learned that pertain to my life – don’t bother to lose weight, it only comes back. I’m only going to diet to keep from gaining and to make myself feel better, treating myself to whatever about once a week. I also like to be in shape, so I’m going to do a cardiovascular workout on the ball, then some basic exercises to work my major muscle groups.

As much as I’d have liked to investigate “Kate” more, we skipped the Chinese place yesterday to save money. We couldn’t have picked a better day to do it too, since it was cold, blustery and rainy.

The RV’s insurance is due in December, so before that comes around, we’re going to try to either part it or sell it whole.

I miss my incense. It ran out two days ago, lasting me just a month and a half.

I got a letter from Bob. He sent his support and encouragement, unlike Tom’s wonderful family who doesn’t even care to call to find out what’s up with us and offer assistance and is still having lung problems. He’s still not sure if they’re going to move him or not.

Someone just left next door, but only one person. I know someone else is still over there because I heard two voices.

Tomorrow marks 6 weeks of motel-living. Thanks, God, thanks a real lot. This is just what we needed. Just what we always dreamed of in life.

Later…

Maybe no one is next door after all, since Mr. Serious is over there now and I don’t hear voices. Maybe the guy that was there just likes to talk to himself.

Working out with the ball felt great after not doing so for over a month. Now, though, I have nothing to do but be bored silly until he gets home with what I expect will be either good news or bad. He said he thinks they’ll give us a place, but he always thinks things will work out. He’s one of those who’s very seldom pessimistic and who thinks that ignorance is bliss and that silence makes problems go away.

Tuesday, October 19, 2004

I finally have some good news for a change, and that’s that we’ve been officially approved for the triplex and even a more expensive duplex with a garage that’s said to be attached to a lady in her late 50s. If she wasn’t a complainer, how I’d love to have a neighbor like that! It’ll never happen, though. I know we’re going to get younger people next to us with small kids, and if it is just one parent that works during the week, them and their brats being home all night and all weekend will make up for any times they’re not there. Anyway, we’ll probably end up in the triplex, which someone looked at not too long ago, not surprisingly. The triplex would be more affordable, so we’ll probably go there and I’ll just deal with the neighbor’s bumps and bangs. He has an appointment to look at it tomorrow.

If only the Phoenix house wasn’t such a dump and we had normal neighbors! We owed so little on that house and our expenses weren’t overly bad.

It looks like we’re not going to be able to get to the Chinese place this weekend either, and I’m beginning to wonder if it’s even meant to be. After all, women never are where I’m concerned, and just maybe she would’ve made us a little money on the side and that’s why I’m being kept away from her. Well, I’m not going to “fight” to get to a damn restaurant, so if I don’t make it back within a couple of weeks, I’m not going to bother.

In other good news, Tom’s virtually certain they’re going to keep him at work, although he’s going to try to find a better job. I doubt God will let him find a better job anytime soon, though I’m at least glad He didn’t hate us enough to let the sickos hinder us from an apartment or to let him get fired. This doesn’t mean I still don’t hate His guts just because He only pushed us to the edge of a cliff and not off it. That’d be like an abused wife forgiving her husband simply because he broke her arms and not her legs, too.

It just bothers me that the things we try to escape keep coming back to haunt us. Like the bills we thought we’d escaped forever. Most of them are back all over again.

There’s no one on either side of us, so that’s good.

Later…

Tom and I talked and our tentative plan is to go to the Chinese place on the first Sunday of November and take our first clump of play money on the first payday of December. Things have a bad habit of not going our way, though, so I won’t count on these things happening. We don’t even know how many more weeks we’ll be here at the motel.

This little scavenger of a rat manages to find goodies in every room we stay in. This time around it was a piece of black licorice. He’s been matching my schedule more so these days. Now that I’m sleeping throughout the nights, he’s up well into the mornings.

My allergies are a little fritzy. I can tell they don’t do a great job cleaning here. Who knows when the last time was that they vacuumed under the bed? Who knows how old that licorice was?

It’s cold, damp and cloudy out right now. The kind of weather that puts you in a lazy mood. Actually, I’m in the mood to write, but write what? Perhaps I ought to dive back into No Escape. It’s just that I had been hoping to wait till we were in someplace and I could get the bulk of it for reference, which is stored on my desktop. All this laptop has is the last page and a half of the story, and the last 30 pages of journaling.

Wednesday, October 20, 2004

I spoke with Mr. Semi-Serious, as he’s now become, and from what he said, this place is notorious for druggies. He kicked the people next to us out a few days ago for that and showed me a room across the way where someone smashed the table and threw the microwave on the floor. This is exactly why I wouldn’t want to be a motel owner on top of the constant demands and huge responsibility it would be.

One of the room keys didn’t work in this shit of a dump. He gave me another one, but it’s just as worthless. Oh well. I shouldn’t be going out too often, and when I do, it won’t be for more than a few minutes. Besides, this is an unlikely place for a break-in.

Again there was no one next to us. It’s been quite dead, actually, so it’s been quiet.

I wonder if he’s going to move us when we sign up for another week. He said something about having to do that every week the last time we were here, but he also said he couldn’t rent by the month. He’s one dumb-ass Arab, that’s for sure! But with the separate room and his place being the quietest, I’m willing to put up with a little stupidity.

I guess Shelvin didn’t take the rabbit they let run around loose, cuz I just saw it.

I must be getting more psychic again, cuz I told Tom the other day that I didn’t vibe us pulling out of storage by November. Also, this morning I woke up knowing we’d be here another week, and once I talked to him, that does look like how it’s going to go. It appears we’re on for moving in on the 29th, so 9 more days in motels. What an ironic coincidence that our 6-month sentence is going to occur almost to the date of the one I got on account of the sickos. We still don’t know for sure that we are going to take the end unit of the triplex, but we probably will. Unless the neighbors are really a killer of a nightmare or there’s a problem with management, we’ll probably renew the lease too, cuz where else would we go but to another rental somewhere?

Got a card, but no money, of course, from the immortal queen Marjorie yesterday, telling us how wonderful everyone’s doing there, how much fun she’s having doing puzzles, all about the kitten, etc. She was glad to get my letters, she said, and I was like, she was glad to get my letters saying how miserable we are? Gee, thanks!

Then the bitch says she hopes our luck has changed by now. Now how can it change that fast? We’d have to hit the lottery big time to get out of this kind of jam that fast. As the saying goes, it only takes a second to hit rock bottom, but quite a while to climb back up. With the way the motels eat so much of his checks, there’s no way we could recover from this one that fast. It’ll be months before we do. I may not even get to have a $100 allowance, though I’d gladly take $50 - $75 to be in a bigger, quieter place if I had to. It’s Wednesday, the day they come out with new listings, so maybe they’ll have a small house in a decent enough area, though I doubt God would be nice enough to let us have that. That would defeat the whole purpose of Him dragging us back to the city unless he put a pack of freeloaders next to us all over again. Still, it’s the banging that’s got me worried. That’s the biggest issue when you live adjacent to others, so maybe I’ll take the damn freeloaders. They can’t be outdoors year-round like they can in Arizona.

I also got to thinking about this kitten shit, and if Miss Perfect’s supposed to have such bad allergies, what’s the stupid fuck doing with a kitten? See, I really think she and the queen lie or exaggerate when it comes to their wide collection of chronic illnesses. I really do.

We joked about me sending a note with no return address or stamp and saying, “I’m so sorry to make you foot the postage, but we’re so broke we can’t even afford stamps and I didn’t want to be rude by ignoring your letter.”

Fuck the bitch, though. Just fuck her and her perfect little daughter and Dave, too! Oh, how a part of me hopes she doesn’t send birthday/Christmas money just so I can tell her off. I’d love, love, love to give her a piece of my mind, though that’s another thing I doubt I’ll get the opportunity to do. I mean, I have plenty of reason to as it is, but that’d really give me an abundance of reason. At this point, I haven’t got a guess as far as that goes. At first I thought she probably would send the money, then I thought she wouldn’t, because if you don’t care that one’s homeless, why would you care about their birthday/Christmas? Now, though, the woman is so warped that I can’t even predict what she’ll do as far as that goes anymore. On the one hand, we could always use any extra money we get, though I want that final straw to motivate me to tell her off. I’m not going to tell her off if she’s going to send money on birthdays, anniversaries and Christmas. Naturally, I wouldn’t write anything threatening if I did end up telling her off so that when she goes running to the pigs like Arizonans love to do, they won’t have shit on me. Especially with me up here. However, what I’m going to say will surely enrage the hell out of them, but that’s good. That’s what I want. I want them to feel some of the fury I’ve been feeling lately. I hope I do hurt their poor, poor fragile little feelings. I’m not just out to vent pent-up feelings that date back to when Tom and I were newlyweds with the queen stealing our time and money and being more of a daughter to us than a mother or a mother-in-law, I’m out to piss them off and break their little hearts any way I can! Really, this card has done nothing to cheer us up in any way. It was nothing but another demonstration of Marge S’s true selfishness. If anything, it only infuriated me more. Nonetheless, that’s my current plan. If she stiffs us, I let her have it, and fuck the inheritance. All 20 grand would do is provide temporary relief, then we’d return to the day-to-day struggling we were meant to do. I’m not going to discuss the fuck-you letter with Tom or else I’ll end up letting him talk me out of it, though I did mention it briefly. It’s just that I’ve let him talk me out of too much over the years as it is when it comes to handling others or just various situations. I succumb and give in to him too much. A person has to handle things their own way every now and then, so no more relenting. At least not when it comes to her. Meanwhile, he totally agrees with my blowing her off like he blew off Miss Perfect’s email. Besides, it’s nice for them to see how it feels to get ignored. Miss Perfect and Dave ignored my email, so now they can get a taste of their own medicine for a change and see how it is. They’ve all got their heads buried so deep in the sand, though, that they’re not going to have a clue as to why we’re ignoring them, but that’s the least of my concerns right now. I have more important things to contend with than them.

Thursday, October 21, 2004

Tom looked at the triplex, and it doesn’t look like we’ll be taking that after all. He said they’re so old and ugly that it’s no wonder they can’t rent them. They’re not worth the $350 they’re asking. The main issues were the condition of the bathroom, the layout (there’s not even a closet between the bedroom and next door’s kitchen to dampen the sound), and the fact that it’s not on solid concrete. Tom said there’s a spooky-looking cellar (or basement as they call them here) that runs underneath all 3 units, and that means that if we got someone who walked like an elephant next to us, we’d feel the vibration as if we did have people above us. Also, the only room that’s heated is the living room.

What we are probably going to be moving into is a much newer, bigger duplex with a garage in a nicer residential area. I just wish the garages were between the units! Tom, who drove by it, has an appointment to see it on Monday. The only potential problem with this, besides dogs and car stereos, is that the neighbor, who seems to have been there for a long time, may be a pest. From what the lady who showed the triplex to Tom said, she’s Tom’s age, stays home a lot, and may want a buddy cuz she asked the lady to “send someone nice.”

So that’s it? That’s why God dragged me back here, besides to torment me; to use me to buddy up to some lonely older lady? I don’t think so! I’m not obligated to be anyone’s buddy, though I’d rather a lonely older lady over an unruly pack of freeloaders that are totally out of control. If I can find a way to be nice enough to her to keep her from complaining about my singing (though I’m hoping she works during the day when I do my singing) and get her to not bug us by knocking on the door all the time (I’ll give her my cell phone number if I have to), then we’ll be alright. I also hope the bedroom, which is said to be huge, isn’t adjacent to her place, though if it is, I’d assume her bedroom would be on the other side and not her kitchen. Also, a newer place should have a closet bordering dividing walls if the bedroom really is on that wall.

I don’t know how big the garage is or what the square footage is. Tom guessed it to be about 800. Also, they’re putting new carpet down. It’s more expensive ($435 with nothing included), but Tom was hoping that going for a nicer place that was more expensive, would mean us not having to move around so damn much. I just hope the neighbor isn’t a pest or a complainer and that management doesn’t give us any hassles and that the neighborhood dogs, kids and stereos aren’t a problem. As for dogs outside barking, he says that seems unlikely, though it was hard to tell if there were yards in back that could accommodate dogs. That reminds me, there’s an enclosed yard in front. I like that much. Also, there’ll be places to hang my wind chimes, unlike in that triplex. As for stereos, he said it’s a main drag where the street is wide and they go cruising by at 35 MPH, so we may hear them going down the street, but they can’t park outside our wall to sit and blast the damn thing for hours at a time. I’m sure there’ll be occasional outbursts of various noises, but if I can at least have my sleep and hear myself think most of the time, I’ll be ok till I get fed up enough to take the poison Tom says he’s going to research and get for me as soon as he can for the next time the shit hits the fan. I’ve been fed up, believe me. It’s just that I didn’t have a sure way to kill myself without botching it up and making my life worse. It’d be all I’d need to throw myself in front of a car just to end up paralyzed and in a funny farm that’s no better than jail. I know good and well that most funny farms don’t help. They punish.

I just hope the toilet works ok and that the shower doesn’t come out in one fiercely concentrated stream like the one in here does. A part of me hopes he does move us come Saturday. Then I won’t have to change the sheets either.

I just wish we didn’t have to have a lease! Ok, so it’s only for 6 months, but if that nice lady moves and is replaced with trouble right after we move in, it’s going to be an awfully long 6 months.

I was right in assuming we wouldn’t be able to save money so easily, and that we’ll pretty much be living paycheck to paycheck, but that’s ok. I’ve already resigned myself to the fact that we’ll never have anything we want. No house in the woods, no house by the beach, no house in a retirement community, no successful eBay store, no nothing, so why save? Also, if they fire Tom after a few more months, he’ll be eligible for unemployment, so there’s no real need to save for that either. I am, however, going to still be able to have a monthly allowance! At least it looks that way. I don’t know how long it’ll last, but if I have to have a second-best life, at least I can go shopping while I’m at it!

I hope that after all this time, the cold weather that’s settled in doesn’t finally kill my plants off before I can rescue them and get them indoors. It’s only 28˚ out there right now – yuck! The fog looks pretty cool, though. There are some huge mountains boarding the town and you can see clouds of fog shrouding the tops of them.

Another con to being in cold climates is that you get a lot of engine-gunning cuz you can’t just start up the engines that fast unless you have a new and expensive car.

Another night of no one to the right. I was worried they were going to put someone in there, though, cuz I could hear them in there talking loud and clear over my sound machine, as I was nodding off yesterday afternoon.

A few times a day I hear a dog barking in back, but it’s nothing. It’s just a few scattered barks. It doesn’t go on and on for hours like in Arizona.

Well, I should go do my workout now.

Friday, October 22, 2004

Tom, who woke up at midnight for a while, said someone came in with loud music around that time. That is so, so rude to come into a motel blaring music late at night! I know who it is, too. Some cock a few rooms down. It’s just lucky it didn’t wake me up.

Anyway, Tom said the duplex has a single-car garage and that its entry doors are not right next to each other. He also said the front yard is not only fenced, but it appears divided in the center too, giving each house its own yard. I hope it’s like that in back too, if there is a yard so that if this lady does turn out to be quiet enough to end up moving (the quiet ones always do), some obnoxious kid that may move in next with its mother won’t go running up screaming by our windows. Particularly the bedroom window on a day I may happen to be asleep.

We don’t know if there’s an alley in back and you use a community dumpster like we did in Phoenix, or if each house has its own barrel they bring to the side of the street once a week.

I’m hoping my schedule will be suitable for going to check the place out with him on Monday. I also hope God’s willing to compromise with me. Meaning, if I can never live where I want to live, then at least don’t let me be unhappy there! The way Tom describes it, it doesn’t sound like it could be as bad as Phoenix. The only sucky thing is that it’s way out of the way, so if the shit truck broke down, he couldn’t just walk to work. At least he’d be where there were buses and taxis.

There’s one thing Tom said the lady said that bugs me, though, and that’s when she said our prospective neighbor stays home a lot. Unless she told her that herself, how would she know this unless they’re meddling in their tenant’s affairs? And what does “she stays home a lot” mean? Does it mean she doesn’t work? Does it mean she works part-time? Or does it just mean she’s home whenever she’s not at work?

Sunday, October 24, 2004

Tom came home from work Friday with a wonderful treat for me. A handful of incense sticks from a store he stopped at to ask about selling pieces of turquoise that we got from the queen years ago. It’s a little smoky, but it lingers well and is way better than your department store crap. Not quite as good as Incense Galore, though, but certainly good enough. He got Patchouli and Jasmine, which he knows I like, along with Opium and Kiwi. I wasn’t at all impressed with the Kiwi, and the Opium was just so-so. Still, the place smelled so stale and I missed my nose treats, that his timing was perfect. I always love having incense around.

When I awoke the next morning (yesterday morning), it was like, oh my God! The people who Tom said arrived next door before he crashed, were slamming shit up against the wall like crazy. It was about as close to the NHA as one could get, sound-wise. I had to wonder just what the hell were they doing in there. Were they fighting? Rearranging furniture? It was weird too, because there’d be a fit of scuffling and banging for a handful of minutes, then it would go dead quiet for a while, and back and forth like that from when I got up at 5:00 until we decided to leave a few hours later. It’s just that for all I knew, they could’ve signed on for a week and there was no way I was going to put up with that shit for even a weekend. Why oh why am I so destined to dodge other people’s rude racket?! The damn banging people do! They just cannot sit still! Why can’t we ever be next to one civilized person who’s as much of a mystery to us as the existence of whoever’s living in the freeloader’s old house? Nonetheless, his place may be quiet when no one’s next door and I may dig the separate room, but other than that, it was cold, dark and spooky (lots of spiders) and I still don’t think the guy’s all that friendly. Service with a smile is still preferred, even if I’m not looking to be buddies with these motel owners.

So I called Tina, friendly Tina who’s cheaper than the La Vista, and after confirming that it was indeed Tina I was speaking with, I asked if we could return. She said she had rooms at weekly rates now available, but the trash is still here till tomorrow. The weather delayed them, I guess. They’ve been ok, though. Just a couple of quick car stereo shows. As always, though, they love to cluster outdoors no matter what the temperature is which has been cold! High 20s. There was even snow visible on the tops of some of the higher mountains in the area. The webcam showed about an inch of snow on the land. Tom, growing up in the desert, thought it was oh-so-cool, but I found it cold, boring looking and even a bit depressing. I wish it were summer again! Summers here are nice as long as you’re not in an old shit of an RV.

Tina has a pretty impressive memory compared to most people. She told me that if I wanted two beds, I could have the room (106) we were first in on Monday if I wanted it. We decided to stay here, though. She also remembered the rat and asked if I still had him, though she asked if I had my “mouse.” This time she only charged $15 instead of $25, so that was nice. Still, I wish she had a garbage disposal for a memory like most people.

So we got settled in here, and of course, we had to listen to next door’s bumps and bangs for a while, but it was tame compared to the Arab’s dive. We actually went to McDonald’s and to that incense store first, because the room wasn’t ready right away.

It’s an Indian specialty store. I’m surprised there were no dolls in it. Just some figurines, dream catchers, candles, beads and incense. There were a few other odds and ends as well, like T-shirts and lotions, but anyway, she had about 25 different fragrances. Some I’ve gotten from Incense Galore, some I haven’t heard of. I got 20 sticks for $2, and Tom showed her the turquoise, which he later said she rejected because I came off as being homeless (I guess people worry about buying stolen things from the homeless). If this is true, it’s her loss. I had even offered to dip and sell her some incense and she was all for it, then she mentioned checking into Incense Galore, which I think he shouldn’t have mentioned, but oh well. There’s a no-making-money-allowed rule on me anyway, so I’m not even going to bother bringing her anything.

He also talked for about an hour with a couple that owns a coin store the other day. The lady collects antique dolls and has a lot of Barbies.

The reason I chose to come back here (and Tom doesn’t mind where I choose to go so long as we can afford it) was so we could go online. It’s not like we’ll be able to do that the instant we move into the duplex, which we drove by as some light flurries fell upon us. I won’t be able to tell how it’s going to be until we’re in it. All I know is that there’s a noise curse on me, so I don’t expect it to be peaceful. It’s a matter of finding the least noisy place we can afford because I’m not allowed to live in quiet places. We’ve got an appointment tomorrow afternoon to check it out. They were putting in new carpet and cleaning it, last he knew. I didn’t think to look for a cellar when we drove by it, but cellars are common in older areas. I’d rather there not be one, though. I’d rather be on solid ground if that lady next door turns out to walk like an elephant, but slab foundations aren’t common in cold climates. The owner of the Indian store said she lives in a duplex she owns and never hears her neighbors. Ah, but are they quiet due to good, solid wall construction, or are they quiet cuz they know they could easily be evicted if they weren’t since they live adjacent to their landlord?

I was surprised to find an email waiting for me from PG regarding e asking how long the fashion dolls will be on sale, but that’s PG for you – they take a year to respond to you and a year to send your dolls. They said the sale’s on while supplies last. Yeah, I’m sure this means that the day I have money, they’ll sell out.

Someone just checked in next door (it’s always a full house here and they check in so early here, too) and of course they had to let me know it, and of course it’s not just one person. I can hear their voices and TV, along with the banging everyone seems so compelled to do. They just better let me sleep this evening!

The best news of all is that I was mistaken in assuming we could never own a house again. Tom explained to me that the credit will be repaired eventually. The only thing is that it may be years before it is.

Monday, October 25, 2004

I don’t know if I could kick myself more for checking Maricopa’s weather like I just did, or for moving here! It’s 23˚ here right now yet it’s 59˚ in Maricopa. Their 10-cast is to be much like the summer was here. Some of their lows are higher than our highs! Tina’s father-in-law is bundled up warmly and even has a knit cap on. If I were still friends with Andy, he’d be laughing at me like we’d laugh at others, assuming he’s still in Arizona.

Anyway, I slept well last night. After the initial crash-in next door, all went quiet.

They got the electronic door locks fixed, so we don’t have to keep getting our key cards reactivated. I guess it was unfair of me to blame that one on their stupidity. For one, the more I get to know them, the more I see that they’re not stupid, they just don’t know a lot of English. Secondly, the problem the locks had wasn’t their fault.

I see and hear bigoted messages everywhere lumping same-sex marriages with school violence, poverty, etc., and it’s like – why are people so dumb and blind?!?! They’re picking on the wrong group of people. They’re not the ones running around rioting, shooting people, selling drugs every chance they get while they collect welfare checks and disrupt as many lives as they can.

The Mexie farmers are gone, so that’s good. It’s totally dead out there. Not one car in sight. The grills are gone, too.

I’ve really got to cut my calories again. I just can’t eat what I want and get away with it, even if I exercise. I can feel it in my pants. My pants are tighter, my ring is tighter, and I look like shit. I’m huge around the middle with a neck practically down to my chest. I just don’t see how people late in their pregnancies stand it. How do they get around? How do they breathe? I saw a woman on TV that was so fat, she appeared to have no neck. When you looked straight at her, her neck was as wide as her cheeks. Now that took guts; going on TV like that.

If people would stop turning our lives upside down every few years, maybe I can finally stick to a good regimen. I know it’s going to mean being hungry all the time, but I think the results will be worth the hunger. For a while I didn’t care, but I’m getting rather sick of being a blimp. As soon as we get settled and can finally fall into a routine, I want to step on the diet and exercise thing. Well, I’m already back on the exercise routine, so just the diet needs to be added in. I want to do it to save money, too.

Later…

I’m both excited and apprehensive about seeing the duplex today, but hey, we gotta live somewhere. For now, we go wherever God puts us till we can finally get some control over our lives for once and for all and get land and a house we can’t lose. At least not in 5 years like in Maricopa or in a few months like with the land here. I don’t know what state it’ll be in or how many years it’ll take, but not even God can keep us in rentals forever!

Still, I get the nagging feeling we’re here for a special reason, but what that reason is, I do not know. Sure most of it is simply because I don’t want to be here and because I don’t want to listen to other people, but there’s some other reason, too. I just hope it’s good, whatever it is! Anyway, whenever we do get a house, we’re just going to make sure we don’t go overboard. We’ll get 1-5 acres instead of 10. We’ll get a 1000-1600-square-foot house instead of a 2100-square-foot house.

Anyway, it’s been a quiet day here so far, but I don’t like how they’re taking all day to do the room. At 8:30 they got my sheets and at 10:30 they made the bed. Meanwhile, they still have to vacuum and put liners in the pails.

I hope the woman who’s going to show us the duplex isn’t one of those who’s always late, leaving us to wait for an hour for her to show up.

Tuesday, October 26, 2004

We were both quite impressed with the duplex. It was bigger and in good condition for its age. We’re guessing it was built in the 60s or 70s. It’s on Shasta Way, a nice street name as opposed to all the numbered streets they have which are boring. It seems like it may be ideal for us, but the catch is that we may not be able to come up with the money by the weekend so we could move in this Saturday. They want more of a deposit up front than Tom thought they wanted. I don’t know if Pam, the woman who showed us the place, withheld this from him or if there was a misunderstanding or if she decided she didn’t like me now that she had a chance to meet me and came up with a higher sum as a deterrent or what. We need another BOA check since the immortal queen bitch isn’t about to help! Besides, it’s too late. We needed her 7 weeks ago. Even if the selfish fuck sent out a check today, we wouldn’t get it in time.

I don’t want to get into describing it too much in case we don’t make it in, but it was nice, alright. And huge, too. Maybe about half of our old house, at close to 1000 square feet. It looks smaller from the road because it’s sort of L-shaped, though each line of the L is the same length, and part of it stretches out towards the back. As I said, if we have to be stuck in the city, it seems ideal. I just wonder if God’s going to be like, “Nope, I’m not going to let you find the money to get in, it’ll be too quiet.” On the other hand, He could make sure we didn’t get in just because it’s a nice place since there is the potential for trouble. Again, it all depends on who the surrounding tenants are. Right now, no one in the immediate area has dogs, but if the neighbors decided to get one, it’d be literally right outside our window. More so than in Phoenix. There are two duplexes. The backyard of the one to our left faces the bedroom and bath. They’re on the corner, facing whatever the nearest side street is. This one’s currently rented by a mother and her daughter, the daughter being on one side with the mom on the other. They have cats that were in the window at the time we went out back, but no dogs. Of course, it goes without saying that if next door got a dog, it would be worse, because if it was big and mean it could run up to us when we went out back. There’s a grid fence, however, blocking off the yard that the mother and daughter share. The front isn’t fenced, but because it’s on a slight incline, there’s a short concrete wall dividing the front yards that tapers off towards the road as the land levels out. There are trees and shrubs by some of the windows. One tree in back is an apple tree! I’m not big on apples, but it’s still cool to have. There’d be plenty of places in front and back to hang the wind chimes, and there doesn’t appear to be a cellar or a crawl space under the place, so that’s good. The other duplex clearly has one because we could see vents. It’s also laid out differently and they don’t have garages. The backyard isn’t square. It’s sort of wider by the duplex. There’s a clothesline on the other side and an old shed that no one uses. It’s pretty rundown without any real doors or windows anyway. I couldn’t tell if there were other backyards behind this one or if it was the fronts of other houses. The two duplexes are on the same lot which is about a third of an acre.

The exterior is a peachy pink color or more like a dark coral. The color I’d have painted the dome.

Inside, the carpet is brand new and very nice for a neutral color. It’s a sculpted carpet in shades of tan and brown. It’s better than plain brown, even carpet. The kitchen floor was nice too, with little rosettes. It’s pretty much laid out where the garage, bath and bedroom form one part of the L, and the living room, kitchen and utility form the other, though not back to back. When you walk in the front, you’re at the left end of the long living room which extends towards the right, where the neighbor is. Behind the living room, from left to right, is a small dining area, the kitchen, then the utility where the back door is located. There’s a washer/dryer hookup in this area, too. If you walk in the front door, walk forward towards the dining area, then hang a left, you come to a set of linen cabinets just outside the bathroom. The bathroom’s pretty nice, from what I saw. I didn’t run any faucets or flush the toilet to see how they worked, but what I liked about the bathroom was that there were not only cabinets under the sink, but drawers, too. In the back, stretching straight back towards the back of the property is the enormous bedroom. Its back wall has closets with built-in drawers underneath! Something someone with no furniture could definitely use.

The kitchen was small, though bigger than Phoenix. I just can’t believe it’s all just $435! It’d be twice that much in Phoenix and Massachusetts.

The garage was nice too, because it had shelves along the back. The neighbor doesn’t seem to park in her garage, from what we’ve seen. Maybe she’s got a lot of junk in it. One thing we already do know about her is that she is a complainer. Pam said the people who last lived there played loud music and that she complained about it, though that’s a legit complaint. The question is, will she complain about my singing, too? I wouldn’t think she could hear it with me in the bedroom, though she would if she were out back when I was singing. I would seriously have to wonder about anyone who complained about that because there’d be no obnoxious bass or drums thumping along with it since I’d have headphones on, and it’s not like I do it for hours at a time. She is, though, described as “very nice,” and she does appear to be home all the time. She obviously doesn’t do no 9:00 to 5:00, because her car was out front when we arrived just before 5:00. I get the feeling she’s either retired, living off a pension from a deceased husband, or maybe even alimony. If she’s like most people, she has the TV going whenever she’s up and about which would help to mask any sounds we may make. As long as we don’t have to hear her TV and she doesn’t pester us, we’ll be okay. I just hope she won’t move if she is a good neighbor. All the good ones always move! We didn’t hear a peep out of her while we were there, but that may’ve been because she turned her TV off so she could eavesdrop out of curiosity as we still don’t know how thick those walls are. He thinks they’re pretty thick because the roof levels are a couple of feet off in height due to the little incline. I’m surprised she didn’t come out when we pulled up the driveway. The driveways are at opposite ends, but still, I’d think she’d have heard the doors. Especially if she were in her living room.

Tom and I were laughing at how Pam had said the neighbor was his age. Well, he looks a little older than 47. He looks early 50s. Pam, who appears to be right around 50, said she thought the neighbor might be older than her, so that would put her in her early 50s. Tom doesn’t think she’ll be as quick to move if she is.

I like how there aren’t a million huge windows throughout the place, which have mini-blinds. Instead, there are windows that are higher up on the wall and wider than they are long. I also like how each room has its own wall heater and thermostat.

The back doors are side by side, but I figure she won’t be going out back much. I hope no one in these two duplexes will for that matter, and that they’ll be more front-yard oriented to lessen the chances of my singing being heard and them starting trouble.

In the garage were trash cans. They do a pickup every Friday so long as you don’t put out anything more than a 32-gallon container.

The owner takes care of the lawn, though we have to water it (there’s a hose in back). Not now, though, with the snow and rain. I don’t know if I’ll like lawnmowers buzzing around once a week for half a year as I don’t know if the fan could drown that out if I were asleep.

There is fairly heavy traffic on the street, but it’s no problem at all. It’s actually sort of soothing like the highway traffic is here. Plus, there’s no light for them to have to stop at. They just whiz by. There are a lot of car stereos, though.

The only dog in the area we’re aware of is across the street. It was fenced in back and could get around to the side. We wouldn’t hear it in the house, though, unless it was out barking in the dead of night and we were in the living room. I guess it’s just a Western thing, but people with dogs simply won’t take them indoors unless they absolutely have to, so that’d be my biggest concern living there; someone getting a dog that they wouldn’t take inside unless it was under 20˚. The good in it, though, is that we’d know who to call if they did, though I don’t know if it’d do us any good. For now, I just hope we get in there this weekend!

Later…

Maybe we will get in this weekend, thanks to Tina. I’m excited to say that she may be interested in both Samantha and Ciara, but almost certainly Ciara. I went down and filled Tina in on our current predicament, then I told her about my big Ciara doll I was willing to sell for $100. Remembering I could access my online photo album, I showed her and Raj (that’s her husband’s name) pictures of her after she spoke to him about it, since he handles the finances. She explained the situation to him in Hindi. They were impressed with her picture. They seem to really like blue-eyed blondes, which I guess makes sense. Most people seem to like/want what they don’t have. I guess that’s why I like darker eyes, hair and skin. After they checked her out, Raj’s parents checked her out, too. They also liked what they saw.

I also told them a little about the incense. Of course, I had trouble understanding them at times because of their accent, and they had trouble understanding me at times, not just because I’m American, but because of the traces of Bostonian in my accent. Even growing up on the other side of Massachusetts, we still get touches of that side’s accent in some of our words/vowels. Anyway, Tina likes the smell of roses, so I think that once we’re settled and I make an incense order, I’ll grab a 20-pack of Rose for her for just a couple of bucks, plus offer her some of the acrylic and wire pop-up burners we have.

Blondie was climbing up my leg and onto my lap for attention from time to time, but now it’s time for a nightstand nap. He loves to lounge on smooth, hard surfaces.

Tina is very excited about the idea of us staying in one of her rooms with a kitchenette for $650 a month, saying I could choose any room I wanted, but as I told her, we really do hope to get this duplex because we need more space. It’s nice to know it’s an option, though, for if worse came to worst. At least her kitchenettes are roomy, in good shape, with internet access and good people running the place. However, we need more room, I’d like to have at least more than one room that isn’t a kitchen or a bathroom, and I’d like a place to sing without an audience if I can help it. Still, I told her we’d keep it in mind and that I’d get her incense to her eventually, wherever I am.

Then I remembered Samantha. She’s of the same coloring as Ciara. Even wears light blue, too. I left a message for Tom to get both dolls out of storage and they’re going to check them both out. I’m going to offer them both as a package deal for $150. We know right where Samantha and Ciara are, but hopefully, he won’t have to tear the place apart too much to find Ciara’s gown and stand. Their certificates are in the truck.

I realized what was taking them so long to clean the rooms yesterday; they wanted to do a thorough job after the farming scumbags no doubt trashed them and left them filthy.

Wednesday, October 27, 2004

I still don’t know if Tina will want the dolls because Tom couldn’t make it to storage yesterday. He needed to call Pacific Power to find out how much of a deposit they require. The good news is that just like back east, they require nothing. This still doesn’t mean we’re going to get the duplex for sure, though it’s what we’re shooting for. We did, however, look at some of Tina’s kitchenettes, in case we don’t get what we want, as usual. I thought there was only one layout, but I was wrong. The room on the very end had 3 beds, so that’s out. There were a couple with 2 beds that aren’t quite in separate rooms, but more like separate areas. It also has a tub in its bathroom. The rooms stunk like hell and were filthy, thanks to all the little Mexies, so I couldn’t stand to be in them for long. It’s going to take poor Raj and his dad ages to get all those rooms cleaned and the stench out of them. The bathrooms smelled like the disgusting animals pissed on the floors and walls rather than in the toilet. They’re coming back too, in December. According to Tina, they come every few months. It wouldn’t be the worst thing to happen to us if we got trapped here for a few months, since we’d save a fair amount of money, but not only did I not come here to live in motels, I don’t want to do what I did down in Arizona and live with a bunch of shitheads all over again. They weren’t as wild as I thought they’d be, but they weren’t always quiet either.

Later…

Looks like it’s snowing again. It did that yesterday too, leaving a light dusting on the ground. It was visible when I went to the store this morning, then it melted, and now it’s coming down again. Tom was standing out in it yesterday evening, saying how cool it was. You’re insane, I told him!

Blondie’s been out since early this morning. He’s spent most of his time sleeping on the bed and the nightstand.

I wish I knew what was going on! Are we going to the duplex? Staying here? Questions, questions, questions, but never any answers! How I miss the days of stability and security! I’m so sick of struggling! I tell myself to learn to live with it because that’s just what we’re meant to do. I know we’ll always be scraping pennies and having to do without this and do without that, so I guess I better get used to it. I just want a place to live is all. Then I’ll get used to struggling.

Thursday, October 28, 2004

There’s both good news and bad news. The bad is that for the millionth time, we’ve been put out, thanks to other people fucking up. The stupid shits at the satellite company had billed our credit card even after we canceled with them. We got the money back, but while they were busy taking what was supposed to be our storage money, the storage people couldn’t get their money, so they put an extra lock on our door. See what I mean about others always, always making life hard for us, fucking us over, putting us out, hassling us to death? Because of some stranger we don’t even know in another state, we couldn’t get the dolls yesterday. Tom wrote them a check and they say they’ll take the lock off. So today’s attempt #3 to get the damn dolls. If he doesn’t return today with them, I’m going to seriously wonder if something up there doesn’t want me selling them. It definitely hasn’t wanted me to sell much of anything as of yet.

The good news is that we decided we are getting into this duplex either way. Then, if God could stop sending people to fuck us over, maybe we’ll get ahead at least for a little while.

He’s going to sign a 6-month lease instead of a year, though if it’s going to be years before we can own again, I’d rather just stay put. However, I know God will see to it that it gets noisy sooner or later to keep me on the move. I’m also still hesitant about ever owning again. It’s a lot easier to get evicted from an apartment than it is to lose a house/land.

Got a Bob letter yesterday. Now here’s something that’d be too good to be true. He has a court case pending, which I assume pertains to his case that could net him $65,000,000, and a malpractice suit that could net him a million. I know he’ll never win a dime, but it’s nice to know that if he did, he’d give us a huge sum of money after getting himself a lung transplant. But I thought he said he’d been turned down by everyone regarding his case. I asked him to tell me more about it, and also not to get his hopes up either. The prisoner almost never wins. Since we don’t live in a perfect world, every case has its magic button that would be an automatic release from jail/prison or even a huge settlement, but finding that button and proving whatever point needs proving, is next to impossible. Still, it’s nice to know he’d be generous enough to see us set for life if he did win big.

No one’s been next to us the last couple of nights. It’s been pretty quiet.

Later…

I sold both Ciara and Samantha! I only got $130 for them, but that’s better than nothing, and any little bit helps. It took us a while to prep Ciara. I had to get her dressed, work the ponytail holder out of her hair without messing up her curls, and Tom had to fix her necklace. Its elastic stretched really bad, so he had to break the clasp off, break off the excess thread, then tie it back on.

When we first brought them over, all 4 of them came out and lined up behind the counter like a panel of judges. I didn’t realize they’d make it a family event, but Tom, who knows a bit about Indian culture, explained to me that that was part of their ways. Tina can’t buy anything without Raj there or go cruising around by herself to stores, which I don’t think is fair. He also told me that they teach them English in school, and the reason the parents don’t speak it is that they didn’t teach them English back then. It didn’t become part of their education until around 30 years ago. That explains why Tina said her sister-in-law’s English wasn’t too good for being in the country for only a year. I had thought it was actually pretty damn good for just a year and was wondering how she could’ve learned it so fast.

Anyway, when they entered the office, they began talking in Indian. How I wish I could’ve understood! I was a little worried by their expressions at first, thinking they weren’t all that impressed, but then she asked if I’d accept the $130 and I readily agreed. As much as we need money, I wasn’t about to argue, even though I paid a total of $250 for them. I enjoyed Ciara during the Maricopa years, so she’s pretty “used.” Meanwhile, she took up too much space with her wide-skirted gown, and like Samantha, wasn’t that great.

I was also worried they might not take them both, thinking they were too much the same – blond hair, blue eyes, light blue dresses.

So we get to leave the motel and Ciara and Samantha get to stay. God help her when that kid is able to get around and knock them over!

In other news, I got a letter from Paula. Wow, 3 letters in less than 6 months! I’m impressed. She says Miguel’s still history. I don’t understand why she asks how the land and RV are. Hasn’t she been getting my letters? Nonetheless, her letter was very nice. She asked how Tom was and all that, too.

Anyway, I can’t wait to get into the duplex and get settled and get our stuff off the land and out of storage. As it is, Michael sent a letter ordering us to pay up or else! Tom’s going to send a letter with a bogus story saying that Bob threatened us off the land, then accuse Michael of running a scam of having people buy his land, then send someone to run them off in fear for their lives. That’ll serve his ass right too, if he was the one who complained about us, though nothing ever happened pertaining to that. Either someone else complained and got ignored, or he was just playing with us to ruffle our feathers. Some people are like that. They wake up and say to themselves, “Let’s see who we can rile up today.”

We’re still cursed with leaks, sluggish toilets and foul smells. Their pipes here run under the rooms. There’s a wet area by where I’m sitting that always smells damp and mildewy. The question is what will leak/stink in the duplex? They gave us a checklist sheet so we could do a walk-through and make sure everything was okay, but with my shit luck, there’ll be problems that someone will have to come over to tend to for God knows how many days.

I can’t believe my plants are still alive. Not after the cold spells we’ve had. I just don’t see how they could have survived it. I decided that with all the moving we do, I’d rather buy this really nice fake palm I saw at Fred Meyer at some point. It’s $105, but it won’t need light, won’t shift, won’t die, won’t need watering.

Friday, October 29, 2004

Today should be our last motel day. We hope anyway! Then our 6-month duplex sentence can begin almost exactly to the date of the sicko’s sentence. However, I hope this will hardly end up being a “sentence” as opposed to 6 months in jail. It’ll mainly depend on the neighbors. With dogs being such a popular pet, I’m hoping the fact that because 3 people all under the same management don’t have them means they’re not allowed. I don’t know, though, because Pam never said anything about dogs not being allowed, and neither did the write-up about the place. Besides, almost any place will let you have dogs with a decent deposit, as Tom said.

I just hope we can get in, and, since it’s going to be years before we can own anything, if we ever do, I hope it’ll be nice enough there to stay put for a long, long time. I’m really tired of having my life turned upside down. It’s been nearly a year and a half now since that sick fuck fired Tom and we’re still paying for it. I’m beginning to wonder if we’re going to pay for it for 7 years just like with the sicko’s shit. Why can’t our problems ever be short-term? Days, weeks, even a few months, for that matter. Instead, they’re always years.

[scarlettcharitybaker]

FUCK PSYCH WARDS

Fuck psych wards

And the fucking quack of a psychiatrist

Who misdiagnosed me with Bipolar one

With Bipolar in general

And I should fucking report him

He should be FIRED

This motherfucker didn't listen to me either

And took me off Prozac

Putting me on fucking Latuda

Which was a med

I wasn't sure about being on

And I didn't really have any good feelings about either

Especially when I preferred Prozac anyways

Fuck psych wards

And fuck this stupid man

He's a fucking quack

By the way, he can go to hell

For all I care

He's a fucking quack

Fuck psych wards

And this dumb bitch of a nurse practitioner

Because she wasn't any better than him

She pissed me off A LOT

And she has very bad bedside manners too

Yet I'm not the only patient

That she's been a bully to

When she has bullied other patients

It's not just me

And she's also made them literally cry

The doctor and the nurse practitioner

They both put me on two antipsychotics

And it made me experience involuntary muscle movements

Then she had the fucking audacity to blame me

As if it was my fault

And it wasn't their own fucking fault at all

As if I could help it

And somehow I'm doing it on purpose

In her fucking mind

As if I was doing it for "attention" Because she's a stupid fucking cunt

When they're the ones

Who put me on those stupid medications

In the first place

It wasn't me

This bitch had the audacity to ask me

Where another patient was

As if I should've been telling her that

As if it's any of her business

When it's not

It's probably a HIPAA violation

And after telling her where this certain patient was

Which I should've never done that

She said if I ever acted out or whatever

She knows what it is - it's manipulation

Like no the fuck it is not

And she would send me to another unit

And not to mention

She asked me what I was talking about with my mother

Which was un fucking professional

Also she got after me

For coming back to the psychiatrist

To deal with my "issues"

Saying it's not the place for that

Even though it kinda is

And she said she knew

That I'd get triggered by going

To my sister's baby shower

Because there was a two year old girl

Who was screaming at the top of her lungs

Who wouldn't shut the fuck up

And her mother wouldn't shut her up either

Like no you fucking didn't

Also the fucking psychiatrist told me

That I could've gone outside or something Fucking leave me alone

And I wanted to enjoy the fucking baby shower

You stupid fucking quack Fuck psych wards

And fuck this stupid quack Fuck psych wards

And fuck this stupid cunt

Fuck psych wards

And their stupid fucking rules

Fuck those, fuck them

The way they treat their patients

It's fucking appalling

Fuck psych wards

And the fact that you don't really have any fucking rights

Even if they say you do

They're a bunch of fucking liars

Fuck psych wards

[deadghosy]

I am in desperate need of more chibi!reader.

What if chibi makes mini cakes in their little mini kitchen and decorates them to the characters colors, and possibly flavor preferences?

Thanks if you do this

❤️ anon

AWW THATS SO CUTEEE!!!💗🦆

CUTE HEADCANNNONS ABOUT CHIBI!READER

WARNING: FLUFF💗🦆

You sometimes snuggle with husk as if he was a mother cat as he purrs having his arm over your small chubby body.

Imagine you and Angel having your own poses with Angel. You and Angel definitely have a whole bunch of photos which is so cool.

Imagine you and your bad ASS HOT PINK PRETTY PRINCESS CAR GOING FOR A JOY RIDE! with of course Lucifer beside you as he controls a toy car that has duck designs on it. I mean shittt you guys race as if you are depending your lives on it

Your car broke down…(Angel forgot to change the batteries for you) you sniffled “depressed” until Angel came back to shown you your new HOT GLAMOUR HOT PINK CAR WITH SPARKLES!?

Yeah….you definitely used it to run over someone’s toes as you smirked with your shades on like a badass bitch.

You have an easy bake oven…

NOW CMONNNN YOOU CANT LIE CHIBI! READER BE COOKIN OUT HERE😭

Literally the crew bought you a mini kitchen set and let you decorate it to your [aesthetic] as you smiled having your hands to your hips as you smiled at this.

Vaggie and Charlie sleeping with you beside them like a baby as you twitch 😭ima cry because that’s actually do adorable imaging a baby chibi reader who sleep so cozy to the point you wanna squish their cheeks.

You feed the crew your mini dishes from your mini kitchen which makes them smile at your effort. You accidentally burnt yourself but you huff with a determined squeak as you kept cooking for them.

You were the one who would put bows in alastor’s hair…and Alastor smiled softly at your affection towards him.

A chubby chibi reader who rubs their cheek against the cast’s thumbs with a soft squeak needy for attention for once as they were getting ignored.

A cute headcannon is that, the cast makes a Day schedule who youvwokd be with every week as it’s just fun tk see you come out of the person’s room with a new attitude and clothing choice.

You patted a toy duck thinking it was real as you made a “quack” sound with a squeak as it was heart aching to Lucifer as he grabs where his heart is and recorded the whole thing

You are having a bubble bath tired in a toy tub like I said before as Charlie coos at how cute you are as she scrubs your soft hair

Your favorite cartoon is hello kitty + SpongeBob as it showed how childish you are and were

I headcannon reader to waddle up against to sir Pentious to show how much you love him. That made him tear up a bit as he shows you off to his eggs

You yawn as you snuggle against anything….ANYTHING! You freaking name it-

You definitely get babied like a real baby but you don’t complain as you just be spoiled rotten by affection. They sure damn know

Imagine reader holding a small toy duck as they softly snooze. Like and there is a this ambience music in the background which makes the reader pass out faster.

Alastor has you on his desk as he makes a broadcast as a victim who tried to stomp on you has been murdered…not like you know anyways.

You are definitely the one people can’t leave for a minute as you would piss anyone off in a second. But you are so cute anyone could forgive you.

THATS ALL I HAVE FOR CUTE HCS🦆💗✨

[sometimesanalice]

Let's pretend it didn't take me X amount of months to respond to your truly lovely reblog because I did that thing where I hoarded it for too long.

I'm a taurus, it's not my fault! (but also I got more beads and will happily bribe you for your forgiveness with another custom friendship bracelet, lmaooo)

you, however, are an absolute gem and I'm so truly touched by the time and effort you put into your comments! they mean the world to me!

so more for youuuuu!

i could read a novel about bradley and sweet girl like i could read about them running errands and taking duck (“like quack!”) to the dog park and bradley taking her car to work.-- me being me would probably accidentally write you a full length one. "I can write this in under 5k" is code for "this will be 50k now"

i cried the first time i’m being so serious 💕-- stooooopppppppppp

And on the rare rainy days you got in San Diego, Bradley was asking to borrow your car rather than risk the interior of his big blue baby. - sweet girl getting the last laugh on this one-- she really is, lolol. Just imagine her all smug while he's fighting with the lever in her car trying to adjust the seat for his long legs, and she's just like getting comfy as the passenger princess reveling in her victory. He's all huffy like "not a word" 🤭

He’d promised to make it worth your while, and while you would have done it for him anyways, a little extra incentive was always nice. - this is so cute, i’m smiling so big (also man has a MENU and he needs his french bread 🫡 oui oui bitch)-- the YES CHEF of it all! Of course that cheeky man means in more ways than oneeee!

and Bradley Bradshaw wearing some 5-inch inseam swim trunks with his thick thighs on display in the golden sunlight. - thankyouthankyouthankyouthankyouthank - IT IS THE MENTAL IMAGE WE DESERVEEEEE!! you're the captain of the 5-inch inseam agenda, and Im just here to support the cause! lol

It had been so nice to see your parents and to visit the sights of your childhood growing up together. - i love every time you mention her parents! especially knowing about her mom’s wedding 🤭🤭 like bradley’s her kid too!-- it's such a crime I'd have to write that fic, because I want to read it too, lmao. Sometimes I feel like I mention them too much and it's repetitive, but I just really like how much history is there not just between them as individuals but with each of their families.

For as much as Bradley grumbled about being woken up early on the weekends by the black and white ball of fluff, you’ve caught him on more than one occasion cooing at the dog and slipping him treats. The sweet, goofy little dog was the perfect addition to your dynamic duo. - DUCK LIKE QUACK 🦆 i love this dog so much and i can picture bradley making silly faces at him and getting him all worked out-- DUCK LIKE QUACK! endlessly amused that he never had a name change, one SG heard it she was SOLD. Like "it's FATE, bradley!" He'd be so proud to show him off to SG when he finally teaches him how to shake, like banging on about how their dog is a genius, lol

It’s a good think your hands are full or you’d be collecting even more photos of your sweet boy in addition to the hundreds you already had on your phone. - YOUR SWEET BOY 🤭 i love this dog and his cute little name so much i want snugs with him and bradley (sweet girl’s two sweet boys)-- HER BEST BOYS! you just know bradley grins so wide when she comes home and is like "where are my best boys" when she gets home late from the office!

You step around the island and over to him, wrapping your arms around his waist from behind him. He’s always been the right kind of warm, the kind that makes you want to melt into him. You press your face against his back, his shirt soft against your cheek. - this has me absolutely swooning 🤭 this is so sweet and tender and they’re so soooo into each other. also he is a human furnace--they're so smitten! And like SG would be the first to admit that she totally has a crush on her boyfriend, lol. They're both each other's safe places, so I think getting to come home knowing the other is waiting for them is one of their favorite parts of the day. like AH YOU FINALLY

The mental image of Bradley recording a video of your puppy being cute and playing in the park in the same way a proud dad would film his kid’s little league game makes you feel more than a little weak in the knees. - and that he specifically took them FOR HER has me feeling weak in the knees! THAT’S THEIR SON!!-- he knows she'd want to see it!! I love folding in moments that show just how much the other is on their mind, in that "i thought of you" way that shows how much they know and care about the other. But also you know seeing him like that sets her ovaries off and then she has to be like "chill, we haven't even been together a year yet" but also is excited about a future where one day they'd get to have that!

“Yeah? It’s been awhile since I’ve channeled my inner Stanly Tucci, so I thought some homemade spaghetti and meatballs sounded good.” - i know they love his show and i know they should be planning a trip to italy asap. and he can make real homemade meatballs with me since i don’t eat the tj’s ones anymore 💁🏼‍♀️💁🏼‍♀️--they take that trip to italy right after they swap some rings and promises of forever! 🤭🤭🤭

He could more than hold his own in the kitchen, and the competent way he handled a chef knife in his big hands was endlessly attractive to you. - makes me swoon, he’s so pretty in so many ways-- it's the competency kink in us! hahahahahah

“Yes, chef,” you purr as you spin on your heel taking off in the other direction. - 😮🤭 and then he slaps her ass!!!- HE IS SO CHEEKY! Just when she thinks she has the upper hand, he'll give it right back to her!

The things that always felt mundane on their own had become some of the things you most looked forward to during the week. It’s not that you need to be around him, but you always want to be around him. - this is one of my favorite parts about these two 🤭 ‘and bradley has the best personality”-- they're each other's favorite!

“That so, huh?” he sounds amused by your enthusiasm, “Is there something else you wanted to talk to me about?” - cheeky boy! i like that he doesn’t let this slide 😉-- he's such a tease for this, I love that he's like building up to it. I think he was originally waiting for her to bring it up, but then when he realizes that she doesn't realize what kind of sampler it actually is he is fully amused and leaning into it. He likes to tease her, but also that man is mentally like "one less thing for us to have to plan and one step closer to wife-ing her up"

Your face is still hidden behind your hands when you feel Bradley gather you into his arms, running a warm hand up and down your back. - i just love this visual so much? there’s something about it that gives me butterflies-- she's so easily flustered! and he is so good about knowing when to tease and when to put her at ease. we know she's a bit of an overthinker too, so she's like running back the interaction with that and just cringing and embarrassed.

At this point you really do just have to laugh at yourself. It’s such a silly thing to get worked up about, especially since you know you’re probably more ruffled about Bradley potentially thinking that you’re trying to drop a not-so-subtle hint with it. - this would totally get me too like i don’t want him to thinking i’m pushing him towards something? especially if they haven’t talked about it too much?-- He is so SURE about them, and she is too but when it comes to those big feelings she has about him she gets shy about how very real it is for her and just how much she wants forever with him. But she doesn't want to make him think that she isn't happy where they're at, and while she's always trying to be logical/practical with the timeline of their romantic relationship, she also wants to get to the part where she gets to be his wife.

“Hey, just so you know, I can’t wait to eat wedding cake with you later,” he says as he continues to slice up the baguette. - okay i took later as ONE DAY not later that night 🤭-- BOTH HE MEANS BOTH!! it's just the perfect cover for him to actually be talking about their wedding day (but only he knows just how soon he hopes that gets to be 🤭)

while Bradley takes his chances and eats one slice at a time before moving on to the next one. It’s truly unhinged behavior - oh it is absolutely deranged- A MENACE! He has a system like a wine tasting, starting with the lightest more mild flavor and working up to the richest so that the flavors don't get lost. BUT STILL

He says it so easily like there’s not a doubt in his mind that it’ll be you and him facing each other at the end of an aisle as vows about forever are exchanged. - i giggled 🤭 like it is so sweet and reassuring especially with the verbal confirmation in a bit that they’re on the same wavelength-- he just KNOWS where as she HOPES, and he forgets that he needs to give a girl more than a hint sometimes. They're both dreaming about the same future they see with the other, but their approach is different. But I loved that chat where they reaffirm how in it they are!

He’s been in your life for almost three decades now. You’d known the boy, the teen, and you more than liked the man he’d become. You had absolutely no intention of ever letting him go. He was yours. Forever and always. - what’s another 6 decades for these two? “you more than liked” oh i love love love it-- SHE LIKES HIM AND SHE LOVES HIM! FAVORITES!

“But just so we’re on the same page, that wasn’t an official proposal. More like a declaration of intention.” - HELP!?! this is so sweet but so cheeky and everything i’d also want-- he's so ??!! like "Heads up sweet girl it's gonna be you and me", this man!! And for her, to know that she is WANTED by him like that! Especially after her past relationships, where she was always the one to give more of herself than she got in return, to have Bradley who cherishes her!

“Tell me we can have carrot cake at our wedding, sweet girl,” he murmurs against your lips. - OUR WEDDING!!! i’m kicking my feet-- SWOOOONINGGGGGGG!! OUR WEDDING!!! I love how he just STATES it, like it's a fact.

You wanted to wear his ring on your finger just as much as you wanted to see him wearing one of his own one day. You liked your last name, but there was nothing more you wanted than to be Mrs. Bradshaw. It would be another thing you and Carole could share. A name and the everlasting love for her son. - GET OUTTE OF HERE WITH ALL OF THIS!?!!!? this is really too much and then knowing the story with the ring!?!-- LITTLE DOES SHE KNOWWWW!! She just wants him! But that there are things that she gets to share with carole (even the things she doesn't know about yet) mean that much more to her because of the special relationship they had!

He hadn’t been able to control the nervous bounce of his leg or his sweaty palms when he’d ask your mom’s permission for your hand in marriage. It hadn’t been any easier the second time, when he’d had to do it all over again with your dad that sunny day at the golf course. - BRADLEY!!! SO NERVOUS!! LIKE THEYD SAY NO!!! ugh he loves her so much and i love that he already asked them way before this lil incident!-- he's a planner! He wasn't going to miss his moment to ask them in person (when they haven't even seasoned together yet, lmao) He knows he doesn't need to do it, that they'd be happy for them regardless, but he respects and appreciates them so much that he wants that blessing and thumbs up.

The two of you had always been perfectly right on time in your own way. - LIKE GIVE ME YOUR HAND HERE IS MY HEART!!!-- it is! it is! it is such a central theme for them!

They were both equally were important to him, he wanted to get it right. - and this being why he goes with the ring is so sweet and perfect and i KNOW sweet girl probably sobs when he tells her the background-- just imagine him stewing over this for weeks! that little furrow in between his eyebrows during his down time trying to figure out what to do when a second diamond falls in his lap! it being so representative of THEM with the how they came to be and wrapped up with the reason they even became friends is just SO MUCH!

In the kitchen earlier that night, he might have bent the truth about his day just a little bit. The final design had been sent to his email that morning. And it was more perfect than he could have imagined. - my eyes filled with TEARS the first time i read this. i always love that even though i’m in the loop on so many things you still ALWAYS surprise me!!-- I think I was also surprised with this! There wasn't supposed to be a Bradley POV originally! But it just felt like having this peek into what is going on in his brain and in the background was just the little bow that was needed for this story! And I love it because there's been lines in other stories from SG's perspective where she says things about how Bradley always means what he says, but then we get to also see the ACTIONS he is taking behind the scenes too. Like his words MEAN MORE when we learn how serious he is about what he wants with her!

anywayssssssss, what new bracelet do you want for my fauxpas? lololol (thank you for this reblog, I loved it so much I didn't want to reply right away and then not have a reason to reread it, lololol)

Sweetest Devotion

Summary: Loving Bradley is the easiest thing you've ever done, and coming home to him is always the best part of your day. Especially when you come home with cake. But a slight mixup at the bakery leads to the sweetest of promises.

Pairing: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x Female Reader

Length: 5k

Warnings: So much fluff (side effects may include giggling and kicking your feet)

(Author’s Note: this fic was written for my one year celebration of the ‘Like I Can’ series, but it can be read on its own!)

After a long week, there was no place you’d rather be than at home with Bradley.

The two of you have been living together for a couple of months now, but seeing his Bronco parked in the driveway of the condo you shared knowing the empty spot next to it is meant for your own still made your heart flutter out of sheer giddiness.

Even if he still teased you about your practical Honda Civic’s lack of street cred. But it did have a spacious backseat with its own set of doors and an actual trunk, unlike the Bronco.

And on the rare rainy days you got in San Diego, Bradley was asking to borrow your car rather than risk the interior of his big blue baby. Those days you just got to preen as you handed over your car keys to him. Sure, you could be the one to drop him off, but it was funnier watching the way he valiantly attempted to hold back his grimace as he tried to adjust the driver’s seat to comfortably fit his bulk.

As you pull into your spot, you’re hit with that same gust of summer breeze warmth you always are as you. It was a feeling you didn’t expect to go away any time soon.

It takes a bit of finesse getting the front door open with your work tote and purse slung over one shoulder while you cradled the paper bags of bread and box of treats you’d stopped for on the way home in the other.

Bradley had texted you to let you know that he was making dinner earlier, but had forgotten the bread during his grocery run and had asked if you didn’t mind making a quick stop to grab some. He’d promised to make it worth your while, and while you would have done it for him anyways, a little extra incentive was always nice.

Especially after the way he had teased you in the shower this morning.

You picked up the baguette that he’d requested along with a couple loaves of fresh bread for sandwiches that you were planning to stick in the freezer for later. At the checkout, they’d had a few fun pink bakery boxes packed with six individually wrapped cake slices in different flavors. It seemed like more fun than the basic red velvet cupcakes you had been debating as you waited for your turn to pay, so you’d picked up one of those boxes too. Since it was Friday, you figured a little treat was very much deserved after such a long week.

The two of you had just gotten back from a little trip back home not too long ago, but you were already dying for another vacation. Ideally one that involved creamy blended beverages served in coconuts and Bradley Bradshaw wearing some 5-inch inseam swim trunks with his thick thighs on display in the golden sunlight.

It had been so nice to see your parents and to visit the sights of your childhood growing up together. You’ve always gone home for holidays, but it had been years since he’d been there with you. Some things had stayed the same like the ice cream shop where Bradley had had his first job. And some things had changed with the times like the empty parking lot where he’d first taught you how to drive was now the site of an upscale organic grocery store. Now that you and Bradley were you and Bradley, the nostalgia of your younger years felt extra sweet as you’d strolled with his hand tucked yours.

It’s a miracle you get through the door without dropping anything.

You’re waiting to hear the scamper of little paws against the laminate floor headed your way as you kick off your heels, Duck was usually the first one to greet you when you got home.

The puppy was growing all too quick for your liking. For as much as Bradley grumbled about being woken up early on the weekends by the black and white ball of fluff, you’ve caught him on more than one occasion cooing at the dog and slipping him treats. The sweet, goofy little dog was the perfect addition to your dynamic duo.

Even if Bradley still got huffy about the name and how Duck had come to be in your life.

On the occasional night when Bob’s friend Casey from the animal shelter- the man you’d been on exactly half of a date with once close to a year ago- was invited to come hang out, your boyfriend always was finding reasons to stand a little closer to you or leave his hands lingering a little longer on your hips. Those nights usually end with the two of you sweaty and out of breath, tangled in the sheets of your canopy bed.

You can hear Bradley singing along with one of his playlists in the kitchen and the sounds of drawers opening and closing as you tuck your purse and tote under the side table at the entrance. You smile to yourself as you drop your car keys into the bowl where his are already resting, the keychain on the keys to his Bronco was the same one you’d given him when you were teens when Mav had gotten him the Montero for his 16th birthday.

Taking the bread and box of cake slices with you, you pass through the living room you see Duck passed out belly up on his Sherpa lined dog bed. His ears flopped out to the side and his little paws twitching as he dreams about chasing balls or squirrels. It’s a good think your hands are full or you’d be collecting even more photos of your sweet boy in addition to the hundreds you already had on your phone.

“I’m home,” you greet, rounding the corner to the kitchen, the savory smell of onions and garlic growing stronger the closer you get, “And I come bearing a baguette.”

Standing in front of the stove is Bradley with a checkered kitchen towel slung over his shoulder. His curls look a little damp, still drying from the shower he must have taken earlier. The soft looking shirt he’s wearing is pulled taut across his back, and the sweatpants he has on are hugging the curve of his ass in the best way. He looks so at ease and comfortable, none of the tense strain in his body that he sometimes comes home with.

Bradley looks over his shoulder towards you with a grin on his face, “Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.” His pretty brown eyes rake over you in a way that has you wondering about just how he is planning on thanking you for picking up the baguette you’d stopped for. He lets out a low whistle, “Damn, I love that skirt on you.”

“I’m glad you clarified,” you say, sending him a wink and setting your bakery haul down on the island counter, “I wasn’t sure if you were talking to me or the armload of freshly baked carbs.”

He leans his hip on the side of the counter, “A little yeast and flour have got nothing on you, kid.”

“Now you know you can’t go around saying things like that an expect me not to fall in love with you,” you tease, opening the freezer to put the sandwich bread away.

“I’m failing to see a problem with that- oh shit,” he curses, hastily turning back to the stove to adjust the range knob as something spits and sizzles on the top of the convection cooktop.

You step around the island and over to him, wrapping your arms around his waist from behind him. He’s always been the right kind of warm, the kind that makes you want to melt into him. You press your face against his back, his shirt soft against your cheek. Under the woodsy smell of his body wash there’s still a faint lingering scent of jet fuel. It’s your favorite smell.

“Hi, sweet girl,” he says, settling his big hand over yours, still stirring the sauce with the other. And you can almost see the easy, contented smile on his face just from the gentle tone of his voice.

“Hi, Bradley,” you hum, happy to be home.

“How was your day?”

“I’m glad it’s the weekend,” you say with a sigh, “The beach day tomorrow with everyone is going to be much needed.” A sympathetic sound rumbles from his chest as his thumb runs over the back of your hand. You were looking forward to sitting under the shade of the stripped umbrella and feeling the sand between your toes as you sip on an icy cold beer. “How was yours?”

“Not too bad, I took Seresin out and now he owes me $200. So overall, it’s been a pretty good day,” he says, clearly pleased with himself. “Cyclone let us out early, so I was productive. Did some errands, got the groceries. Well, most of them. I even took Duck to the dog park and let him run around for a bit. He made friends with a Great Dane, I took a few videos of them playing on my phone for you.”

The mental image of Bradley recording a video of your puppy being cute and playing in the park in the same way a proud dad would film his kid’s little league game makes you feel more than a little weak in the knees.

Pressing up on your toes, you skim a kiss against the side of his neck and prop your chin on his shoulder to peer at what he’s cooking up.

“It smells really good in here,” you tell him, taking in the pot of sauce simmering away on the stove. Off to the side there’s a cutting board with some fresh basil chopped up and a pile of papery vegetable scraps and a couple empty cans of tomato sauce.

“Yeah? It’s been awhile since I’ve channeled my inner Stanly Tucci, so I thought some homemade spaghetti and meatballs sounded good.”

Your eyebrows raise on their own, the surprise evident in your voice, “Homemade meatballs?”

“Ok, maybe those came from Trader Joe’s,” Bradley admits, “But the sauce is all me. I even put the red pepper flakes in it the way you like it.” He reaches over for a handful of basil and adds it into the pot.

You send your thanks up to Carole for making sure her son at least had known the basics of cooking. He could more than hold his own in the kitchen, and the competent way he handled a chef knife in his big hands was endlessly attractive to you.

“‘Semi-homemade with Bradley Bradshaw’ has a nice ring to it, want me to pitch it as a reboot to the Food Network?” You feel the way he chuckles under your palms, the muscles of his stomach contracting and releasing.

“I don’t think I’d make it out with my liver intact. That woman loved her cocktails strong, I’m pretty sure her sangria recipe would send me to the floor,” he jokes, “No wonder why our moms were always watching her.”

“A woman after my own heart,” you sing, “I’m so glad I inherited such good taste from them.”

Bradley shakes his head amused, “The good news for you is that there’s a bottle of red open and waiting for you, funny girl.”

The promise of wine perks you up immediately. Pasta, wine, cake, and Bradley. What more could a girl need?

“God, you’re the man of my dreams.”

“I sure hope so,” he says, squeezing your hand.

“Oh, you are so getting lucky tonight, Lieutenant.” You take advantage of the way he leans his head back and laughs to press a quick kiss to his cheek.

You slide your arms back from around his waist, only managing to take one step towards the bottle of your favorite Cabernet Sauvignon that’s breathing over near the sink with one of your wine glasses set out next to it before you’re being stopped with a gentle hand on your wrist.

“Hold up, where do you think you’re going, kid?” Bradley asks, tugging you back to him with a grin.

He doesn’t wait for your response before he is leaning in to properly kiss you for the first time since he left for work this morning.

At the press of his lips against yours, you feel every ounce of strain you’d been carrying from the day dissolve like melted sugar. A satisfied hum escapes you and you feel the way the corner of Bradley’s mouth ticks up at your reaction to him. His hands cup your face, tilting you head until it was at the perfect angle for him to deepen the kiss. You don’t even notice he’s back you up against the island until the countertop is digging into your lower back, too distracted by the way the coarse hairs of his mustache scrape along your upper lip.

If it weren’t for the sound of the timer going off the two of you might have almost would have forgotten about dinner entirely, it wouldn’t have been the first time it’s happened.

“Is there anything I can help with?” you ask, smoothing out the wrinkles of his shirt from the way you’d had it clutched in your fists just moments ago before letting go of him so that he can silence the beeping coming from the oven.

“You want to make us a salad to go with it?”

“Yes, chef,” you purr as you spin on your heel taking off in the other direction.

And really you should have expected the cheeky way his hand connects with your ass in a quick, sharp slap. You shoot him a glare over your shoulder, but he’s already facing the stove and stirring the sauce again as he adjusts the seasoning with a smirk.

You take a moment to pour yourself a glass of the wine Bradley had opened for you and take a sip. The bold, juicy flavor dancing across your tongue as you set about gathering the things to make a simple salad to go with the dinner he’s made for the two of you.

This is your favorite part of the day, when it’s just the two of you together.

The back and forth has always been easy with him. Whether it’s making dinner or running errands or doing laundry together. The things that always felt mundane on their own had become some of the things you most looked forward to during the week. It’s not that you need to be around him, but you always want to be around him.

When Bradley declares the sauce to be perfect, he comes and joins you at the island. Grabbing a cutting board of his own he starts slicing up the fresh baguette you’d picked up, offering you the end to snack on.

“Oh, what’s this?” he asks, picking up the box of assorted cake slices.

You continue chopping the cucumber in front of you, “Isn’t that fun? They had a stack of those at the checkout. I think they must have made too many cakes this week on accident, but it’s so smart of them so sell them that way. Why get one flavor when you can have six? Best of both worlds for everyone.”

“That so, huh?” he sounds amused by your enthusiasm, “Is there something else you wanted to talk to me about?”

It hadn’t been a particularly noteworthy visit, other than you’d been able to score a parking spot in front of the building, “Uh, not that I can think of?”

“You sure?” Bradley prods.

“No?... Oh! I was going to pick up that marbled rye you like while I was there getting the baguette, but they were already sold out. So I got a loaf of the multigrain brown bread and some sourdough instead.”

“Mmm, interesting.”

Stopping your salad prep, you look up at him skeptically, “Ok, why are you mmm-ing me, Bradshaw?”

Bradley’s eyes are alight with playful mischief as he slides the box of the cake slices towards you and pointedly double taps on the sticker on the upper right corner of the pink box with his finger.

You hadn’t stopped to read the shiny gold label when you’d grabbed it at the bakery, the tempting layers of cake and frosting and fillings had immediately sold you on it, but you couldn’t unsee what the curly scripted font said now.

Wedding Cake Sampler

“So, when’s the wedding? I’m assuming I’ll be invited,” he grins.

You feel your face get hot as you realize your mistake. It wasn’t just a sample box, but a very specific type of sample box. A very specific type of sample box for a very specific occasion.

Suddenly the interaction with the bakery employee as you were paying makes so much more sense now.

“Oh my god, the girl at the checkout said ‘Congratulations’ and I said ‘Happy Fri-yay’ back to her,” you groan, covering your eyes with your hands, “I thought she meant it like ‘Congrats on making it to Friday’ thing.”

He laughs, “Sweet girl, that’s about the damn cutest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Happy Fri-yay, Bradley! She was congratulating me on our- I mean- the nonexistent impending nuptials she thought I had and I reply to her that? We need to find a new bakery, I can’t go there ever again,” you lament. It’s truly a tragedy, since they have the best sticky pecan rolls in the area.

“And you call me a drama queen,” Bradley lightly teases, “She probably thought it was funny.”

You groan again, louder this time. If he was going to call you a drama queen, you’d at least try out your best Mariah Carey impersonation.

Your face is still hidden behind your hands when you feel Bradley gather you into his arms, running a warm hand up and down your back. “C’mon, it’s not even that bad. I’m sure I did at least three things more embarrassing than that today.”

“Yeah, I bet you did too,” you grumble into his chest without heat. The way he chuckles at your surliness lets you know he doesn’t take it personally. Not only is he getting laid, but you decide you’re definitely going to give him head too for being the sweetest man alive.

He takes your wrists in his hands and pulls the away from your face, “I gotta tell you, I’m glad it was just a little mix up. It would have sucked to find out my girlfriend had a fiancé I didn’t know about.”

You can see every shade of brown in his eyes as he looks into yours, the affection and amusement rippling there the same way the light catches the surface of a cup of coffee on a Sunday morning.

At this point you really do just have to laugh at yourself. It’s such a silly thing to get worked up about, especially since you know you’re probably more ruffled about Bradley potentially thinking that you’re trying to drop a not-so-subtle hint with it. And fact of the matter is that you still probably would have picked it up anyways, you just might have peeled off the incriminating sticker off in the car before bringing it in.

“You’ve got nothing to worry about, Bradshaw. I’ve got my hands more than full enough with you.”

“Yeah, you do,” he boasts, the insinuation is not lost on you.

You snort a laugh and shove at his chest lightly. He drops a kiss to the side of your head and makes his way back to the other side of the kitchen island as you get back to your salad making duties.

“Hey, just so you know, I can’t wait to eat wedding cake with you later,” he says as he continues to slice up the baguette.

You playfully toss a cucumber at him for his teasing and he pops in mouth with a grin.

A little later, when you have your steaming bowls of pasta in front of you at the dinner table, he raises his glass of wine to you, “Happy Fri-yay, sweet girl.”

And your laugh is as crystalline as the clink of your glass meeting his in cheers.

After the leftovers are put away and the dishes cleaned, the two of you are cozied up watching the new romcom that was just added on Netflix.

You’re stretched out across the couch with your feet in Bradley’s lap eating the cake you’d picked up. You try a bit of each flavor deciding which one you like the most to save it for the end, while Bradley takes his chances and eats one slice at a time before moving on to the next one. It’s truly unhinged behavior and you couldn’t help but tease him about it when you’d noticed his cake tasting methodology.

Bradley moans around a forkful of cake and you know he’s just found the carrot cake- his favorite.

He’s always been a bit of a pseudo health nut with questionable logic. “It’s got carrots and walnuts, it’s basically a superfood” he’s claimed on multiple occasions, while purposefully excluding the part about the pound of butter and cream cheese that goes into the frosting.

“I’d clear my schedule in heartbeat and take you to City Hall any day of the week as long as we get to have this carrot cake when we get married,” he says right before he licks the frosting off of his fork.

Your breath catches in your throat.

When, not if.

He says it so easily like there’s not a doubt in his mind that it’ll be you and him facing each other at the end of an aisle as vows about forever are exchanged.

He says it like a fact.

He says it like he knows.

“I didn’t realize I missed the part where you asked me,” you say, setting your plate on the coffee table in front of you, too full of the hope of it all to keep eating.

“And here I was waiting on you, kid,” he says playfully, taking another bite.

He’s teasing, you know he is. Bradley isn’t the type of man who would lead you on or play games with your heart.

“Bradley.” It’s an almost whine the way his name comes out of your mouth as you nudge his thigh with your foot. You turn your head to bury your face in the cushion of the couch, suddenly feeling very bashful.

The two of you have never talked about it, at least not like this before. Only in casual passing comments like getting a place with a bigger backyard for Duck or about setting up a joint banking account. A hypothetical future.

“Hey, c’mon. Look at me,” he coaxes, squeezing your foot. When you peek at him, the look on his face is all open sincerity, “You’re my forever girl. I love you and I’m planning on spending the rest of my life with you. That is, if you’re ok with that.”

A rush butterflies happily swoop and swirl around in your stomach.

He’s been in your life for almost three decades now. You’d known the boy, the teen, and you more than liked the man he’d become. You had absolutely no intention of ever letting him go. He was yours. Forever and always.

“That’d be ok with me,” you tell him freely. You watch as his smile gets wider and broader until it’s taking up his whole face, his eyes crinkling around the edges. “I think I could handle quite a few more decades with you, Bradley Bradshaw.”

“Is that so?” he drawls, his fingers skimming up and down the top of your calf.

“Oh, definitely. You’re stuck with me,” you grin.

“Good.”

He tugs your ankle, pulling you until your back is flat against the couch. You squeal in delight as he pins you down on the cushions, your arms and legs wrap around him on their own drawing him in even closer. Then he’s kissing every inch of your face that he can reach as you laugh in delight.

If it weren’t for Bradley’s sturdy bulk on top of you, you’re pretty sure you might have just floated away. You’ve never felt this incandescently light in your whole life.

He brushes one more quick kiss to the top of your nose before he pulls away, “But just so we’re on the same page, that wasn’t an official proposal. More like a declaration of intention.”

“I don’t know,” you muse, stroking his pink cheek, “Sounds like you’re desperate to wife me up, Bradley. Practically begging for me to take you to the courthouse.”

His hands go straight for curve of your waist, attacking that ticklish spot that’s always made you giggle and squirm. Only taking mercy on you once you’re out of breath. You’re almost positive that the smile on your face might be there permanently.

You don’t miss the intensity in Bradley’s eyes as they trace over your face as he settles himself more fully on you, “You don’t know the half of it, kid. But I’m letting you know now, I’m not going to make either one of us wait long for it.”

And then his mouth is on yours.

You feel the promise he’s making to you in his kiss. The caress of his hands along your body feels like a vow. You feel every ounce of just how much he loves and cherishes you. The cake was sweet, but his honeyed kiss tastes even sweeter.

“Tell me we can have carrot cake at our wedding, sweet girl,” he murmurs against your lips.

Our wedding.

The thought of it made you giddy.

You wanted to wear his ring on your finger just as much as you wanted to see him wearing one of his own one day. You liked your last name, but there was nothing more you wanted than to be Mrs. Bradshaw. It would be another thing you and Carole could share. A name and the everlasting love for her son.

“Ok, we can have carrot cake at our wedding,” you agree, wholeheartedly, “It’s basically a superfood, after all.”

“Damn right it is,” he beams.

The cake is quickly forgotten in favor of pulling your shirt over your head.

You might not have a ring. Yet.

But you did have a lifetime with Bradley and a carrot cake to look forward to. And that was more than enough for you.

Bradley was pretty sure that there was nothing better on this Earth than having you draped across his chest as you slept soundly in his arms. Your breathing had softened and evened out ages ago, but his mind was whirling with thoughts of his bright future with you.

He’d meant it when he’d told you he wasn’t going to make you wait long. Bradley didn’t know how much longer he could go on calling you his girlfriend when all he really wanted to call you his wife. He’s imagined you in a white dress walking towards him more times than he could count.

When he’d planned the surprised trip back to your shared hometown as a gift for your six-month anniversary, he might have had some ulterior motives. While it was nice to see the place you’d both grown up in again as adults, there had been a more pressing issue on his mind the whole time.

He hadn’t been able to control the nervous bounce of his leg or his sweaty palms when he’d ask your mom’s permission for your hand in marriage. It hadn’t been any easier the second time, when he’d had to do it all over again with you dad that sunny day at the golf course.

Bradley knew it was a bit of an antiquated tradition, but he’d never proposed to anyone before and he wanted to get it right. He wanted you and your parents to know just how serious he was about his intentions to love you for the rest of his life. He’d even asked Mav for his blessing too, just to make sure he had his bases covered.

It had thrown him through a loop when at the end of the trip you mom had slipped him the ring she’d worn while she was married to your dad. She’d told him there was no expectations or pressure to use it, she just wanted him to have it just in case.

The engagement ring his mom had worn had been tucked in the back corner of his nightstand for almost four months now. Bradley had pulled it out of storage sometime around the third month of officially dating you. It would be too soon for anyone else, but he’s already had decades with you. And he’d never been more sure about anything in his life as he was about knowing you were the one for him.

The two of you had always been perfectly right on time in your own way.

He’d dwelled on it for weeks trying to figure out if he should give them both to you at once. Or if he should propose to you with one and save the other to you during another monumental moment, like when the two of you started a family. He’d heard about push presents. He figured could turn one into a necklace or something for you.

Bradley could feel the presence of both rings every time he walked into the bedroom. They were both equally were important to him, he wanted to get it right.

His mom had known and loved you, he knew that she’d have been so excited to see her ring on your finger. And after his mom had passed, yours had helped him during those rough days in ways he didn’t think he could ever properly thank her for. Even though your parents’ marriage hadn’t worked out, they were the reason that you were here and he couldn’t imagine his life without you.

It wasn’t until Natasha had shown him the Toi et Moi style ring that things locked into place in a way that made his heart race at the very idea of it.

The right ring for the right girl.

He lets his fingers trail up and down your back gently as you slept soundly against him.

In the kitchen earlier that night, he might have bent the truth about his day just a little bit.

The final design had been sent to his email that morning. And it was more perfect than he could have imagined.

He did win $200 from Jake and had gone to the dog park with Duck, but he’d also stopped by the jewelers across town to give them both of the family heirlooms because he didn’t want to waste a single minute.

Two diamonds, one ring. The start of you and him. A story of your beginnings to be worn on the finger that would tie him to you with a golden thread for the rest of your lives together.

He’d even paid extra to have it engraved.

My sweet girl. My forever girl.

I genuinely thought I was one and done after I wrote my first fic in December of last year. And then came these two. 'Like I Can' was meant to be a oneshot that turned into a 3-part series that turned into half of my masterlist. I adore this couple with my whole heart. Thank you for reading along and celebrating with me!

Elle (@callsignspark) thank you for sending me the TikTok that inspired the headcanon about the wedding cake sampler, I'm showering you with shiny 'thank you' shaped confetti! And another big thank you to Jordan (@gretagerwigsmuse) for getting as giddy about these two as I do and for always enthusiastically reading the snippets I send you! You both are the best!

If you enjoyed these two, you can read their story from the start here!

You can read my other stories here!

Taglist:

@gretagerwigsmuse @sehnsuchts-trunken @notroosterbradshaw @tongue-like-a-razor @laracrofted @bradshawsbitch @starryeyedstories @top-hhun-main @startrekfangirl2233 @callsign-viper @teacupsandtopgun @shanimallina87 @angelbabyange @oneelleandaneye @mizzzpink @cornishkat @alana4610 @20th-centu-fairy-girl @pono-pura-vida @donttouchmycarrots @eg-dr3amer3 @whaledots-blog @a-beaverhausen @hangmanscoming @mandolin22 @theweekndhistorybook @lilpeekabooze @high-bi-imgonnacry @ahintofkiwistrawberry @ruewrote @spiderman-stilinski @jayniebop @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @imaginecrushes @keyrani @chicomonks @artemissunn @mayempress @eddiemunsonreader

[craftboxsys]

district memories of managers master list

because like, two of my friends were actively curious and encouraged me to talk about my memories of the managers, so! i guess we'll start with the more tame of the two sets of memories. also heads up, these are mostly just for people i actively remember being around a lot or have actual memories of. uhh, people like cosmo, belle, tawney, holly, etc. aren't included because i was never around them enough to have an actual input on them as cogs.

anyways! memories under the cut. it starts with clash mems in green then my district in red.

benjamin biggs; very into sharing drama with people, i've listened to him maybe 5-6 times just go off about a set of cogs and then told me about rain & derrick man. outside of that i didn't really talk to him much? i've heard more from other toons if anything like how he's a bitch to fight because half the time he just taunts people then gets really loud with the stupid ringing.

buck ruffler; i more ran into buck a lot because we both had a mutual attachment to gambling. like, we became friends (sorta) over me running into him to play slots or something. quack was really fun to be around, really loud like me. we both matched each others energies really intensely and if anyone else was around they'd get annoyed super fucking fast. uhh buck didn't really give a shit that i broke the filter and thought it was really funny, we'd get into cussing matches in the server when it was dead so i didn't get caught by pete /silly

chip revvington; was NOT a fan of me by any means, i'm a horrible influence on pancake so he'd get really annoyed when he found out i was hanging out with her a lot. not to mention i was her SISTER FIGURE? outrageous! uhh, chip tended to be really quiet and reserved when we were alone though, it was really awkward but there were a few times when i was upset that he actually dropped the "i hate you" act and just kind of awkwardly asked me if i was okay and if he could help at all. i didn't really know what to do but it usually lead to just me being held. even if he hated me he kinda sucked at it /silly

dave brubot; really weird friendship with this guy. i hit him with a golf cart, he emoted, and slid/ran off for a good couple weeks before i'd see him again. uhh, met up again after i'd tripped and got squashed by a flowerpot? i got scooped up, dusted off, and set back down on the ground like nothing happened. can't remember what he said to me but it was probably something something are you okay or something. not quite like that, that's not the brubot fashion but yeah. he left again when i was sure i was alright, gave me his number, and i just kind of held onto it for a couple months? i didn't do anything with it, i just focused on my tasks for the most part before getting to the kudos board for mezzos melodyland and really just kinda went "huh. i forgot i had this." to the number? called it on the phone later that night and nobody picked up. but i think that was because he was performing, i later got a whisper from pancake about it asking if i called hymn. and uh, yeah. i got teased for a while about having his number and all that but we became really close friends. i'd go and visit him out of the blue during the day since his shows were at night. we just did a bunch of useless shit together a lot of the times, it was really fun... kind of domestic. i miss hymn, he's goofy as hell.

misty monsoon; i don't remember a whole ton about misty but i do remember us not liking each other at all for a period of time. uh, we sat down eventually and just started talking on the docks together. talked about exes, life goals, what we want to see out of the world... kind of just deep conversations. i asked her about mary since they were together and she told me about how their relationship is. i got advice from her about some other things and got told to never change who i am for anyone else. people'll love me if they see past all my dumb shit anyways and stick by my side if they really do care.

graham & flint bonpyre; the two of them were married in the clash mems i have, they're very very closeknit with each other. i used to steal stuff from graham's place in spite for like, the LONGEST time. pancake and flint both had to keep convincing me to bring things back myself and apologize in person, but then graham would go and taunt me about it. so, we kind of had this on/off frenemy situation going on. shakes my fist, clash graham you're a bitch!!!!!! as for flint he was generally really nice to me, he and pancake were in a qpr with each other so i saw flint more than graham. we'd chat with each other from time to time but otherwise i really didn't run around or into him too often. i'd stop and say hi if i saw him on the street over time because of pancake.

cathal bravecog; barely remember cathal but he was cool, we'd hangout pretty often just to play video games or just watch tv. i had a tendency to just pass out on his floor or the desk when we were in the middle of watching a movie or something on the longer side of things for time frame things. shrugs, would have to say? pretty cool guy tbh.

and now... onto the general gist of my district managers. i'm not typing out individual things like i did for clash memories because my head's starting to hurt trying to force myself to remember this stuff, but: like i said in the one post before about them all being their own brands of insane? yeah. that's really not far off. so far the only one i've really typed up anything for is graham because i was in and out of lullaby lane a lot since it connected to mezzos melody land.

graham, holly, prester, etc. were all programmed to be more of promotional kinds of bots. like, living... walking talking advertisements for human corporations or the idea of human corporations abroad. graham was more humanoid compared to the rest of the managers because he was meant to be like, a physical model or representation of humans to the toons since humans didn't frequent in toontown enough for everyone to be aware of them.

i don't remember exactly what all corporations they were promoting but it was probably a mix of a bunch of bullshit. i think a majority of my memories were just being involved in maybe one or two of their personal lives (chip and flint through pancake) and anyone else i hardly knew outside of running into them on the off chance i was out and about in their assigned playground districts.

i wanna say out of all of them i've seen mary the most? we're friends (ish) because of the one case i had that weaponized a cog with dip and was blasting toons with it in barnacle boatyard. it was contaminating the water so i had to work with a group of other people in the detective agency to figure out what the fuck to do to get this thing out of here. then mary rolls up and blasts it with a shit ton of water when it's core was exposed. so yeah, good relationship with mary at the very least. that and i wanna say dave and i were on really neutral terms in my district.

i'd swing by from time to time like clash mems but we didn't do much, it was more to just check if anything new happened related to a really long open case. uhh, i think i saw more of the managers after i stopped the detective things but they were all literally so fucking crazy at times it was a little off putting & scary.

not to mention there was a weird bug floating around for a while that transferred override codes to a couple of the other managers. chip didn't mean for that one to happen but it just did, he wasn't programmed with the override to begin with. if i remember right, he had something put in him when he was taken out in a fight maybe once. the details were really limited on that.

anything else relating to them were from things i'd heard on the offhand.

additionally for stuff with buck since i'm pretty sure people know from the past posts i've made on him that i have strong feelings towards my districts buck because, well uh... he's tried to kill me a decent few times.

[kysfimagines]

KYSF characters reacting to you dying during childbirth

warning: this is a very sensitive and sad topic which cointains youre dies. sorry

TUO: y/n noooo :( way to bring down the mood y/n!

MIKIYA: Oh, god, it can’t be... y/n is really gone, aren’t they? Well, it’s just you and me, Mikiya Jr. Mark my words, I will teach you everything I know, and we WILL avenge y/n by razing every last hospital to the ground! ...Oh, the good doctor! I was joking of course. Touchy, aren’t we? Obviously I’d never hold a grudge for you killing the person who birthed my child.

HAUNA: ok

CIJUNE: *cries for 19 minutes* my child.. you are all i have left. i will raise you into the best human being you can be for y/n's legacy. i swear i will protect you and love you the best i can *the whole time the baby is biting and scratching nurses and hissing*

PAYU: dang it! *snaps fingers* that’s such a bummer. welp. anyway. im gonna teach this baby to surf

AYASA: I am going to sue this hospital so hard that by the time I’m through with you, my child will be set for college AND retirement twice over. I have my lawyer on the line right now, actually, would you like to hear from him? *hands the doctor the phone but its his voice on the phone* Me again, bitch.

SOKEMUI: *rampaging though the hospital and screaming like a white woman in film's oscar winning scene*

ML: *kind of liked it* wow, y/n fucking died.. wow. kind of weird. i mean, i guess its sort of cute… oh yeah um *turns to the crowd of adoring fans and paparazzi* does anyone want this baby

HEAVENLY: i refuse to believe it… y/n CAN’T be dead! no way… it can’t be true…. *phone notification* oh! my starbucks order is ready. byeee

CADENCE: no.. how could this fucking happen… you’re a sham quack doctor *tries to fistfight the doctor and loses and dies*

JACOB: *through tears* y/n……. my poor sweet darling…….. i will send you off in only…. the finest of funeral rites. with highest honors. *blows up your corpse*

AURE: *glaring at baby* you did this...... you killed my beautiful yummy y/n..i am NOT going near that thing *the doctor: that is your child you have to raise them* no. i refuse to care for that creature

MARSHALL: what the fuck man...

ROO: Oh this is terrible :( Rest well, Y/N, you were wonderful... Now, who wants to raise this child? Nose goes!

LEN: this is so fucking sad *plays a perfect violin adaptation of Music of the Betrayed - 1 HOUR Of Epic Dark Sad Tragic Emotional Dramatic Music*

MIN: hahah funny prank ok y/n you can wake up now :p ....okayyyy,, theyre not waking up. you seeing this doc? o__0

CELESTIUS: *takes a picture* You’re going into my cringe compilation.

N*AH: ugh y/n 🙄 you know this is so embarrassing for me right? i couldn’t go to your seminars about “human rights” and “emotional intelligence” and “benefits of personal hygiene” because i was busy getting beer with the bros, ever think of that? you never think about my feelings. no, you always tell me that my cis white straight privilege clouds my better judgment and that i need to educate myself, even though i’m not even homophobic, no really. you always make ME look like the bad guy, and this is no different! you just went and died for attention. ohhh look at y/n, they’re dead, that’s so sad. boo hoo. because when people start caring about ME for a change you just can’t handle that because you’re a sensitive snowflake. god. and now i have to raise this stupid baby. pc culture has really ruined life for honest good men like me

[synchlora]

[ID: A drawing of the characters Quackity and Wilbur (post-revival) playing the acoustic guitar together. Quackity is sat with the guitar in his lap, one leg crossed across his knee. He is looking down calmly at the guitar with a neutral expression while playing. Wilbur is sat behind him, chin resting over his shoulder and his body draped against his back. Both of his arms are held forward holding Quackity's hands, his right is over Quackity's shoulder and his left is under the neck of the guitar with a hand on the feetboard holding Q's. He is gazing down softly towards his and Quackity's hands. /end ID]

*swings a bat at the hornets nest* hello c!quackbur enthusiasts have some soft shit