#even though like I only post once a day unless I’ve got stuff in the inbox

[dailyhtfboards]

Day 48

Today’s board is:

Buddy. Ya don’t wear pants anyways ya don’t gotta cover down there. You’re built like a Ken doll.

(From TV episode 8C See What Develops)

[chevelleneech]

No lie, JM and JK enlisting together has made watching T//Krs scramble, so much funnier.

I’m not trying to start drama and I will not be tagging them nor writing any related names in my post, to try and avoid putting this in their tags, but seriously. They have been grasping at every single straw possible, calling everything fake and fan service, and claiming T and JK are beyond normal love and have like sixty understandings so they never feel left behind by the other, and blah blah blah.

I’ve blocked their tags on twitter, but scrolling the Jikook tag over there still brings most of them up if the names aren’t included. Which is whatever, I can scroll on by, but some of the stuff even today has been priceless.

It’s always a “gotcha” for them that JM and JK might be filming something together, because that’s the supposed surefire way to prove they only hangout during work, and otherwise hate each other. Yet they still cry that T//K don’t get enough official content. They still salivated and attempted to change the narrative behind T traveling along in AYS. Everything JM and JK do together, they want for T//K, but only before Jikook do it.

They swore up and down T and JK would enlist together, but once it was announced Jikook were, suddenly that became proof of no romantic feelings. Proof that the company somehow bought it for them. They wanted a vacation vlog of T//K, until it was announced Jikook were doing it. Then it became proof of fan service. Them saying they hadn’t spoken in a while was even more proof, even though it was the opposite when JK said his relationship with T got awkward. JK, to them, was miserable without T and every interaction he has with him on camera is his real personality, unless he looks bored or annoyed. Then he’s fighting lovesick demons and a controlling company.

Especially in AYS, even though he was cuddling up to and smacking JM on the ass in the show. Even though he cozied up in the same bed with JM whilst right next to T. Even though T left JK and JM twice that we were told, to do stuff off camera… okay, lol.

Point is, it’s extremely funny to me that JM and JK are not allowed to like each other in any capacity for T//K fans. They can’t be friends, best friends, civil co-workers, nor romantically involved. The only answer they’ll accept is co-workers forced to interact. But again, everything JK does with JM, they want T to do with JK.

On top of that, they go out of their way to explain why JK would fly somewhere to hangout with T and how that’s proof off romance, because we didn’t know about it until T posted it, but JM cutting through his own vacation to spend mere hours with JK for his birthday, with only one post about it, was fake. That JK planning a getaway for him and JM only, then posting a self-made date-pov edit for him as a gift, is friendly. That documenting a travel series with the person they were set to spend 18 months stuck in the military with, is trash fan service??? Not even best friendism, just flat out fake.

Sucking on said best friend’s sweaty ass ear when you (presumably) think people can’t see what you’re doing is normal, platonic behavior, but calling your friend pretty is not… but only a specific friend. Getting a hickey from said best friend is standard bros being bros, but somehow it’s not as romantic as going out to dinner with your other friend and his friends…

And now the “drama” is because 1) someone asked twitter which K-pop ships they think are most real, and amid the slew of various answers, some people said Jikook. That has led to multiple folks being called out their name and told to stop being naïve, lol. As if any of us know anything for certain anyway. 2) Because after either a handful of hours or even a full day where T//K fans got to rejoice in JK being seen at the airport so soon after discharge, and brag about how it meant JK was ready to get away from JM… JM was proven to be there.

Do we know where they’re going? No. Do we know what they’re doing? No. They could be going to two different states, cities, locations in the same city. Whatever. We don’t know and it doesn’t really matter, but the fact that them being together has spun T//Krs out of control once again, is beyond funny. They could be going to meet up with their baby mamas for all we know, but because it’s the two of them specifically, it’s a forced trip. It’s AI-generated footage. Its JK with his real boyfriend and JM as a buffer. Never just… friends.

And I am truly entertained by it all. The group enlistment period and my time semi-away from paying so much attention has made me feel so… light. I honestly do not care how other people view them, because I know I don’t have the real answer either way. But I enjoy their bond so much, and cannot wrap my head around the idea that everything they do is a lie meant to protect JK’s relationship with T, who quite literally had a girlfriend a few years ago, when JK was still acting the same exact way with JM, lol.

I also don’t think T gives a fuck about T//K either, he just likes being with his friends, who kinda have a very codependent relationship going on. And the idea of him not giving a damn makes them other shippers all the more hilarious.

[ninathekillxr]

creeps’ reaction to gn reader having bad allergies as in watery eyes, sneezing nonstop, runny nose to the point it’s so clogged and all you hear from them is sniffles. so much tissue boxes flooding the trash cans the bad coughing💔 all those hell stuff? this would happen during allergy season, thank you (i also love your writing!)

This sounds so cute omg! This is going to be a long one

Ticci Toby-

He grew up as the sick kid so he has got you covered.

He will make sure your have everything you need, tissues, anti-histamines, soups, whatever you need he makes sure you have.

He will take care of you but not so much the chores, have fun when you get better?

Toby has no fear of getting sick and will stay by you the entire time only leaving to get you things.

He will watch in a morbid fascination while your choking to death or crying from stress. He will run small circles on your back or knuckles tl comfort you.

Do not let him do any eyedrops unless you want them in your nose or mouth.

Jeff The killer-

Now he will remain distant throughout this, absolutely hates sick people.

He will be across the room looking at you like your gross.

If he does come over he’s probably forced and is wearing a mask, gloves, the lot.

If you guys are close he will do any chores you couldn’t do while sick.

Jeff will 100% bully you for sniffling with your blocked nose. Definitely the type to bully you if your nose does that whistling thing.

Eyeless Jack-

You don’t even have to tell him you’re sick, he already knows and is prepared.

Considering his knowledge within the medical field it Shouldnt be a shock that he’s piling you with medication to take and making sure you go get the needed rest in bed.

Even if it’s just allergies he will make you rest through it, he comes to check on you every little while and replaces tissues when you run out.

He won’t be getting too close to you without the necessary protection. (Gloves and mask) He’s being a doctor it’s professionalism.

Jack is a sweetheart though, he would carefully follow a recipe for a soup and bring you it.

He would provide eyedrops if your eyes got all red and itchy.

Depending on the allergy he will remove the item entirely, of course if it’s seasonal you’ll need to wait for your body to start fighting back and actually win.

Jane The killer-

She’d go out and get you any medicines that you need.

Shes bring you soup and tea regularly.

Other than that she would try keep some distance from you as to not get sick herself.

She’d be sitting in her room on FaceTime to you during the evening to keep you company.

Clockwork -

She doesn’t give a fuck you’re sick shes hoping into the bed next to you to keep an eye on you.

She’s not very good in the kitchen but she would have someone make you soup at least once a day.

She makes an amazing cup of tea though so expect to always have a cuppa.

She would go out and get medicine for you if you asked but she wouldn’t think to do it herself.

Sorry it took so long to come out and that I’ve been lowk gone for a month! College had me SWAMPED.

I’ve got tons of tests coming out so any requests would be majorly appreciated since I’ll be doing tones the next couple days so I can just post them every few days until after!

[seriouslycalamitous]

Okay, first of all, I’m absolutely in love with your writing style, it’s so good and you’re so incredibly talented!! I’m really enjoying your shapeshifter fic, and am very excited to see where it goes.

Secondly, I was wondering how you manage to write so much each week? I’m an aspiring writer myself, and would like to start writing my first long fic, but I’m having trouble with the long part…. Do you have any tips?

Again, love all your fics, am very excited to see how the shapeshifter one will end (my brain is theorising so many random things), and I wish you a very lovely rest of your day!

-✨

AWWW this is all very very sweet!! I’m so happy you enjoy what I try so hard to write for you guys, that really does warm my heart! I’m beyond excited to post the ending soon!!!!

And those are some really good questions! I can definitely answer, though i might ramble a bit!

Personally, I’ve been a writer for a really long time. Ten years — so i’ve got my fair share of experience with writing.

English is my line of study, something I could rant about for a while if asked. Because of this, some stuff comes more easily for me than it does for a lot of people. Practice and time are the best ways to improve, whether you have traditional school backings or not.

And, secretly, I actually DON’T write a chapter every week! I prewrite the majority of my fics, and I only start rushing if I post before my fics are completely done. With my last fic, BTDOM, I had only prewritten 4/9 chapters, and I started speed-writing like 9k words a week once the updates caught up to me.

It was rough, I don’t recommend putting yourself on a scheduled deadline like that unless you’re confident. I know I can write pretty consistently, so I don’t tend to worry. For example, two days ago, I decided to add 3.9k words to Ch5 of CWTT and i wrote it in under 24 hours and then slept SO HARD.

While I don’t think i’m out of this world crazy, I definitely am NOT the standard for a regular fanfic writer. I practically write every hour of the day. I have the google docs app downloaded on my phone, so I can write while I wait for the bus, write between classes, so on and so forth. When you’re used to operating like that, and it’s your only hobby, you become kind of obnoxiously quick.

As for advice, a general rule of thumb is to try and write a little every day. A friend of mine has a writing goal to write 1k words a day - but that could be shortened to 500 or even less depending on your comfortability, it’s just constant progress!

When it comes to long fics, you should sit down with yourself and figure out what exactly you mean by long. My fics are long in word count, but short in chapter count. This is ideal for me, as it takes away the pressure of planning things that I think might never end, and it makes it easier to reach a goal without carrying on certain plot elements for longer than is necessary. I really honestly do recommend this!

Something else that is important is not biting off more than you can chew. Especially for your first long fic, don’t try to add too many, if any, side plots should they be avoidable. Smaller cast lists can help with this. You want to make sure you can complete the main story itself without having to stress over a loose end you forgot was there. If you finish writing, and you realize there’s wiggle room that won’t interrupt the main plot, going back and adding things, or making spin-offs in the same universe can be a fun treat!

You don’t have to plot EVERYTHING either. I tend to start with the end, a few generalized middle scenes in my head, and the beginning in mind. The fluff in between is where cute scenes like pirates debating their captain’s love life can come in! It’s recommended that these fluff scenes still add something into the plot, obviously, like showing the reader how a relationship is developing, how outside people view it, how this person interacts with a magical feature, etc.

A scene of, say, Scar doing paperwork without acknowledging anyone else or anything else beyond the paperwork for a thousand words is boring to read and will be boring to write too. Spare yourself!

Anyway, as you can tell, I’m super big on writing and I know a lot and I CANNOT stop talking. If you have any more questions or want any more advice on specific things, I love analyzing writing, especially in fanfic, and I’m happy to help!

Good luck with your fic!!!

[punk-spic3y]

blue dream

a sakuatsu weedfic

7.6k

cw/tags: post timeskip, TW: drugs (marijuana), a friends to lovers lightning round, nsfw, trans atsumu (you're welcome boy pussy enjoyers), pussy eating, face sitting, pussy drunk omi, p in v sex, a little dash of "who did this to you", very very brief mention of transphobia

a/n: "more weedfics!!" the crowd (me) cries in unison, and I heroically abide. hope u enjoy, let me know what you think :3

crossposted to aO3 under the same username

Atsumu’s jaw drops, “Are ya serious Omi?!” 

He’s seated between Sakusa and Ushijima at the counter of Onigiri Miya, rice ball in hand. MSBY and the Adlers have a game in two days and Osamu had offered up his space for the teams to spend an evening together before they play. Kiyoomi can’t even remember how they got on the topic but at the look of disbelief on Atsumu’s face he suppresses the urge to giggle. It’s criminal how soft Atsumu makes him without even realizing it.

“Miya, I have anxiety and I deal with chronic pain,” he pauses and raises his brow, “is it really that surprising that I’ve been high?” He scoffs, “What’s actually surprising is that you’ve never been high.” Ushijima speaks up from beside him, “Are you opposed to trying it, Atsumu?” his tone is even, “I’m sure you’d enjoy it, I like to partake in the off season.”

Atsumu sputters something unintelligible and looks down at the counter. He knows his reasoning for never trying it is stupid but he tells them anyway, “I had a health teacher in my second year that told us some crazy stories about smoking weed and, t’be quite honest, they scared the shit outta me when I was younger so’ve just avoided it since then,” he trails off and then adds after a pause, “Not that I still believe what that wrinkly old asshole said anymore. I know that stuff is bullshit now, but I’ve just never really thought about it since then.” He waves a hand and doesn’t meet Kiyoomi’s eyes, hoping his ears aren’t as red as they feel.

Osamu pipes up, adding to his embarrassment from where he stands on the other side of the counter, “Tsumu’s surprisingly pretty straight edge.” Atsumu squawks in protest and feels his blush deepen. “Never smoked, doesn’t drink anymore. Pretty lame fer someone who’s convinced all his fans he’s the life a th’ party.” 

Kiyoomi huffs a laugh and Ushijima hums in thought beside him as Atsumu tries to capture his twin in a headlock from across the counter. They patiently wait out their scuffle before Omi speaks again, “You know, after the Adlers game this weekend, we have a decent stretch of days off if you were interested in trying it. No pressure,” he pauses, “I do think it’d help you relax a bit though.” The teasing spark in Kiyoomi’s eyes does something funny to Atsumu's chest. Osamu barks a laugh at the wing spiker’s playful taunt and Ushijima chuckles lowly beside him. Atsumu lets out a pitiful whine and tries to cover his rosy face with his hands. 

Once everyone’s finished laughing at his expense, Atsumu leans back in his chair, trying to save face by feigning nonchalance. Kiyoomi watches that classic, smug smile bloom on his face as he clears his throat, “I’m always relaxed Omi-Omi.” Osamu and Kiyoomi both roll their eyes. 

Unless you’re close to Atsumu, his casual attitude and easy smiles are very convincing, but Kiyoomi knows him better than that. He knows how much attention Atsumu pays to the people around him, on and off the court. He knows that Atsumu understands other people to an unnatural degree, it’s what makes him such an outstanding setter. He knows he’s hard on other people, but only because he knows how to draw out the absolute best in them. But he also knows that every once in a while, all of that pressure, that knowledge of what he’s responsible for, becomes too much for one person to bear. 

When they’d first started playing together on MSBY, Kiyoomi was surprised at how intense Atsumu was on the court. He’d watched him obsess over plays, always nitpicking himself for every mistake, whether it cost them a point or not. He never put much thought into how much all of that responsibility would weigh on him. After almost a year of playing together, Kiyoomi finally watched Atsumu break after a tough midseason loss. 

Panic attacks are something Kiyoomi is, unfortunately, intimately familiar with; so when he’d walked into the locker room, thinking the rest of the team had already left, to find Atsumu hunched over on the floor he was caught off guard. Chest heaving and usually strong hands shaking, Atsumu hadn’t even looked up as Kiyoomi entered the locker room. Without thinking, Kiyoomi had immediately knelt beside the setter, speaking his name softly. “Omi…what the fuck.” another shuddering breath and then, “Am I fuckin’ dyin’? I can’t breathe a–and I feel like I’m dyin’.” 

Hands he’d watched rocket volleyballs onto the wood of the court moved with such gentleness that Atsumu was momentarily shocked. With a steady hand on his arm to help ground him, Kiyoomi spoke softly, “You’re not dying, you’re okay, Atsumu. I think you’re having a panic attack.” Atsumu had never seen Kiyoomi be so…soft. His usually stern expression turned to one Atsumu found himself comforted by as he walked him through some breathing exercises. After a few minutes, when Atsumu felt like he could take a breath without his heart seemingly beating out of his chest, they left the locker room together. 

The two of them had quickly grown closer after that. 

Atsumu knows Omi’s his friend, though he’s never heard him explicitly say it, so his knee jerk reaction is to go along with the suggestion that they smoke together. Samu wasn’t wrong when he’d called him straight edge. He used to drink a lot, but after an unfortunate black out where he’d woken up in a place he’d never seen before and had to call Osamu to come get him, he’d stopped all together. Like he said, he’s never sought out much else, so the idea of trying something like this makes his heart flutter in his chest a little. 

He’s going to say yes even though he’s kind of nervous about it. The truth is, he trusts Omi, and honestly if he’d asked him to snort coke in the bathroom with him right now he’d probably do it. That’s just friendship right? He’d do the same if it were Bokkun or Shoyo asking. 

__________________________________________________________________________

Blonde Miya: 

omi-kun can i ask a stupid question

>>> most, if not all of your questions are stupid questions

Blonde Miya:

mean (ᵕ—ᴗ—)

but seriously

what do i wear…

>>> ???

>>> your normal clothes?

Blonde Miya:

ommiiiiiiiii (╥﹏╥)

>>> we’re not going anywhere, so just wear something comfortable

Blonde Miya:

the gray sweats that make my ass look good?

got it (￣^￣ )ゞ

see ya at 4:00

>>> you’re an idiot

>>> i’ll leave the door unlocked for you

Kiyoomi sets his phone down on the granite countertop and goes to dig his stash bag out of the drawer in the bottom of the pantry, he’s still got a couple hours until Atsumu gets here. As a rule, he never actually smokes in the house, opting to sit on the balcony instead. Most of the time he prefers edibles anyway, he’s a professional athlete and values the health of his lungs. Every once in a while though, he lets himself indulge and enjoy a joint on the balcony. 

Since today seems like a special occasion of sorts, he sets out his shiny purple grinder and his favorite papers. After quickly overcoming his surprise at the fact that Atsumu had agreed to this, he’d asked if he preferred smoking or edibles--to which he’d tilted his head and assured Kiyoomi that he was fine with whatever he chose, since he was the “weed expert”. He’s only mildly disgusted with himself for finding the blonde’s idiocy endearing. 

On the short walk from his apartment to Omi’s, Atsumu tries to tamp down his unusually nervous energy, but when he thinks about it, it’s not the idea of drugs that’s got him so worked up. For the life of him, he can’t quite figure out why he feels the way he does. Every other time he and Omi have hung out it’s been at Atsumu’s apartment, or at a coffee shop, or restaurant. Maybe he’s just nervous about seeing Omi’s place for the first time. He’d never really thought too hard about where they’ve hung out before, he’d just enjoyed getting to spend the time together.

A few minutes later he stands in front of Omi’s apartment door. He turns the knob and it opens easily, left unlocked just for him. He toes off his shoes and calls out to let Omi know he’s here. A head of black curls pops around the corner of what seems to be the kitchen. “Make yourself at home,” he gestures vaguely with the chef’s knife in his hand. “You can leave your things by the door.” With a mumbled thanks he shrugs off his MSBY zip up and places his overnight bag on the floor before wandering further into the apartment. Kiyoomi had suggested he stay over so he didn’t have to walk home alone, and probably still high, in the dark. Atsumu wasn’t about to pass up the chance to see Omi first thing in the morning, soft eyes and sleep mussed curls. They room together for away games, so he knows there’s something special about being the first person to see him in the morning, before he’s woken up enough to hide behind his usual mask of grumpiness.

The genkan opens directly into the living room, with what appears to be a sliding door to the balcony on the far right wall and an open kitchen separated by an island to the left. Kiyoomi is standing at said island, chopping a rainbow of vegetables and placing them into a large container. “Whatcha makin’, Omi?” He points to a collider full of cooling spiral pasta--the fun, multicolored kind, “Pasta salad, surprisingly great high snack. Also I wasn’t sure if you’d eat before you came, so I figured something a bit more filling would be appreciated.”

Something in the way he speaks tells Atsumu that he’s put a lot of thought into his whole preparation for this. His chest feels a bit warm, and he thinks he feels his cheeks go a little rosy. He’s not used to being--for lack of a better word--doted on like this. A genuine smile lights his face, “That’s real nice of ya.” At this, Kiyoomi looks up at him, an unfamiliar expression on his face--eyes soft, almost expectant, like he’s waiting for something. 

Atsumu clears his throat and turns towards the living room where a large, deep green couch is covered in soft looking blankets and plush throw pillows. Surprisingly, he notices all of the wooden furniture looks well kept but definitely old. A mid century coffee table and a low set console table beneath the wall mounted flatscreen. The whole room gives off a homey warmth. “Are these antiques?” He turns towards the kitchen where Sakusa has finished his chopping and is now filling an electric kettle with water. “Hm? Oh, yeah. I hate new furniture--think it looks cheap, so I got most of my things secondhand.”

Atsumu hums, “Your apartment’s nice, Omi--layout is better than mine.” Kiyoomi glances at him as he snaps the lid on the pasta salad container and moves to put it into the fridge, giving it a shake to mix everything together as he replies, “Yours is closer to the gym though.” Atusmu wanders back into the kitchen, watching as Kiyoomi wipes the counter down and pulls the spread of paraphernalia Atsumu hadn’t noticed before to the center. “I just set everything out so it’s ready whenever. I still need to watch the game footage from last week, have you seen it yet?”

“Nah, not yet. I’ll pull it up.” Atsumu walks over and flops down on the couch like he lives here, picking up the remote from the coffee table. He clicks around on the tv until he finds the recording of their last game against the Adlers. A mug of tea is placed on the coffee table in front of him and he hums his thanks. Kiyoomi takes a seat on the end of the couch, leaning against the arm and tucking his feet underneath himself. They settle in to watch the match, commenting occasionally, stopping to poke at each other’s form lightheartedly, and rewinding to review big plays. 

At the final whistle, Atsumu stretches his arms over the back of the couch with a groan. The sun is getting low, bathing the room in swaths of soft light that illuminate the room through the balcony door. “Mmkay work’s over Omi, can we do drugs now?” Atsumu grins as he turns towards Sakusa and then falters as he takes in the sight of the man next to him, eyes widening. 

The light coming in the window is falling just so, casting a warm glow onto the planes of Kiyoomi’s face with its hazy golden rays. His skin has a soft radiance in the warm light and he’s shifted close enough that Atsumu can pick out the faintest smattering of freckles on the bridge of his nose. Lit from behind, his usually jet black hair takes on a warm amber glow around the edges, curls falling perfectly over his forehead to brush across twin moles. Atsumu clears his throat and rearranges his expression in a way he hopes looks casual as he feels his cheeks flame.

Kiyoomi gives him an amused look as he stands from the couch and wanders over to the kitchen counter, “Do you want to watch?” Atsumu squints at him, “Watch what, Omi?”

Sakusa narrows his eyes back; cute. “Do you want to watch me roll this?” he clarifies. The look on his face is doing something to Atsumu, and he chokes out a reply, “Yeah, sure. I’ll watch ya.” Kiyoomi points to the stool next to him and begins the process. Deft hands smooth out the thin paper and he begins to arrange the weed in a neat line with what looks to be an old school ID. 

“Omi, are ya seriously using yer old high school ID to do this?” Atsumu laughs and points to the faded plastic card. Hands pausing, Kiyoomi looks up, mirth dancing in his dark eyes, “What else am I supposed to do with it?” Atsumu grins and shrugs in response. With eyes trained on Kiyoomi’s hands once again, he watches as he begins to roll the paper into a small cylinder, keeping the contents packed tight. When he reaches the end, he brings the edge of the paper to his mouth and his tongue darts out to dampen it.

Atsumu’s eyes track the movement and he feels a blush crawl up his neck, unable to look away from how Kiyoomi’s lips part to wet the paper. He coughs, collecting himself and points towards the now finished joint, voice rough, “Do ya smoke often, Omi-kun? Yer good at that.” Kiyoomi glances at Atsumu and he swears he sees a little blush on his cheeks too as he shakes his head, “Not very often actually, it’s not great on the lungs. I usually take edibles.” 

Nodding, Atsumu stands from his spot at the kitchen island and wanders across the living room to the balcony door, temporarily escaping the suddenly heated environment of the kitchen. He can see a comfortable looking wicker couch with deep orange cushions and a mosaic coffee table sitting outside. There’s also one of those little propane heater lamps tucked in the corner, he assumes Omi uses the balcony throughout most of the year, fancy. 

Kiyoomi watches as Atsumu pokes around the living room and glances out onto the balcony as he tracks down an ashtray and fills a couple of glasses with water to take outside, “Usually I sit out on the balcony, there’s a heater out there, it still gets a little chilly when the sun goes down.” Atsumu moves to grab his jacket off of the hook by the door and shrugs it on, “Sounds good, Omi-Omi.”

They make their way outside, Kiyoomi motions for him to sit first before settling in beside him, close enough that their thighs are brushing. The sun is only beginning to disappear behind the horizon, sending streaks of pink and orange into the surrounding clouds. The early spring air is crisp, but not cold. Atsumu’s cheeks are ruddy, and Kiyoomi has a sneaking suspicion that it’s not from the mild breeze. 

Kiyoomi has long since come to terms with his feelings for Atsumu, but he’s stubborn enough that he wants Atsumu to figure it out himself. He didn’t invite him here with that specific goal in mind, but if tonight just so happens to be the night Atsumu finally picks up on his feelings he’ll have no qualms. He’s been all but throwing himself at Atsumu for the past four months so eventually something has to give, he thinks.

He pushes the thoughts away, picking up the joint and bringing it to his lips, lighter in his hand. He glances at Atsumu, “Ready?” He watches Atsumu’s eyes flick up from his lips and holds back a smile. “Yeah, sure Omi, let’s do this.” Kiyoomi can’t help but tease a bit, he already looks so flustered. He places the hand holding the lighter casually on Atsumu’s thigh as he speaks, feeling the tight muscle shift underneath the fabric of his sweats, “It’s fine if you’re nervous, and you can still back out if you want to.” His tone is teasing, but his words are serious; he wouldn’t make Atsumu do something he’s uncomfortable with. His voice combined with the light touch affects Atsumu more than he thought it would.

Atsumu freezes, his heart rate skyrocketing. Omi doesn’t like people in his personal space. Sure, they usually sit together on the bus on the way to out of town games and maybe Kiyoomi’s fallen asleep pressed against him, head pillowed on his shoulder, soft curls brushing his cheek a handful of times. But this feels much more intentional, he’s fully conscious, and he’s not even high yet. This is definitely not normal for them, but he realizes he likes it. The warmth of Omi’s hand has somehow spread to his chest and his heart gives a squeeze. He realizes Omi’s staring at him, an unreadable expression on his face, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

He steels himself, desperately trying not to look at his lips again where the joint rests, unlit. Forcing himself to relax back into the cushions, he motions Sakusa on, “M’all good Omi, go ahead.” Hands fidgeting with the zipper on his hoodie, he watches as Omi moves his hand from his thigh and flicks the lighter on, joint held steady between plush lips. He takes a small inhale and Atsumu watches tiny embers burn at the end of the paper. 

Once he’s sure it’s lit, he takes a substantial pull, carefully blowing smoke away from Atsumu as he offers him the joint. He speaks softly into the cool air between them, “Go slow. Just breathe in a little for your first hit.” He nods and takes the object, holding it between his thumb and pointer finger to bring it to his lips. The thought that they’re sharing an indirect kiss rockets into his head as he takes a small inhale. Before he has time to think too hard about it, the smoke hits the back of his throat and he coughs several times, eyes watery as he fights for a clear breath. Sakusa is already passing a glass of water into his hand, his palm coming back to rest on his thigh again in an attempt at comfort, “Not too bad, yeah?” 

Atsumu takes a few small sips and fills his lungs with fresh air. He turns, brows furrowed and a betrayed look on his face, “Why the hell didn’t ya cough?” Omi’s eyes crinkle as he laughs and he’s so beautiful Atsumu’s sure he’s dreaming. His laugh tapers off when he speaks, “It gets easier, the first time is always rough.” Atsumu pouts a bit before he raises the end of the paper to his lips again. Taking a full breath this time, he feels the heat of the smoke in his throat but manages to stave off another coughing fit as he exhales.  

Kiyoomi leans even closer and Atsumu lets him take the joint from between his fingers, touch lingering. The brush of skin sends little sparks up his arm, the sensation intensified by the high he’s already beginning to feel. His eyes flick up to meet Omi’s, onyx pools glowing in the light of the setting sun. Atsumu suppresses a shiver and watches him take a long pull, the paper crackling quietly as it burns. “Omi…” he murmurs into the still air. Eyes still locked, Kiyoomi tilts his head, encouraging him to continue. He’s met with a stuttered gasp and then silence as Atsumu’s brain screeches to a halt. 

Oh.

The realization slams into him--what he feels for Omi is not just friendship. He’s been so oblivious, unintentionally convincing himself that the way he feels about Kiyoomi is the same way he feels about his other friends. He loves Bokkun and Shoyo, he really does, but they don’t make his heart flutter in his chest like this. He wants Kiyoomi. His brain helpfully supplies the fact that he’s never seen Kiyoomi act the way he does with him with anyone else on the team, or his other friends for that matter. He’s not sure how he missed something so obvious.

Without thinking, Atsumu snatches the joint back, inhaling deeply and then hastily burying his face in his hands with a puff of smoke. His shoulders shake and for a fleeting moment Kiyoomi thinks something has gone horribly wrong. Voice soft, he reaches out to place a hand on his shoulder, “Hey, Atsumu wha-” The shaking intensifies and Kiyoomi realizes that he’s laughing. He’s drawing in gulps of air, desperately trying to form words, “O-Omi, I..” another break of laughter, “m’so stupid--Omi oh my god.” 

It’s divine comedy that Atusmu would be hit with such clarity just as his senses are overtaken by the soft, floaty feeling of being high. His laughter fizzles out and he wipes the drops of moisture that have collected in the corners of his eyes with the sleeve of his jacket. He sets the joint safely in the ashtray and meets Kiyoomi’s puzzled stare, “Omi m’sorry for makin’ ya wait.” His smile is blinding. He’s got this little scrunch in his nose and there’s a dimple on his left cheek that Kiyoomi desperately wants to press his lips to. 

Kiyoomi’s response is cautious, he hopes he knows where this is going, but just in case he asks, “What do you mean?”

Atsumu’s smile softens, eyes warm like pools of dark honey, “Sorry for bein’ too dumb to figure out that I’m in love with ya.” For someone who seemingly just came to this realization, he says it with such confidence--any trace of doubt erased in the wake of hazy smoke rings, “I love ya, Kiyoomi.” 

Kiyoomi tries to hold it together, he really does, but now it’s his turn to be overtaken by laughter. Atsumu melts as he watches him, his head is thrown back, joy uninhibited. Kiyoomi doesn’t laugh often, not like this. He gets the occasional snort under his breath or a chuckle here and there, but this… He’s beautiful in the soft light of the setting sun, and Atsumu does his best to burn the image before him into his brain. Kiyoomi’s mirth is contagious and he finds his own eyes tearing up with laughter again, bending to rest his forehead on Omi’s shoulder. He smells like green tea and citrus. 

They float there together, in their bubble of mutual joy. Atsumu’s nose is buried in the bunched up fabric of Omi’s hoodie, until their laughter subsides into steady breaths. He feels Kiyoomi’s nose press into his hair, “I love you too,” he hums, “sorry for being too stubborn to tell you sooner.” Atsumu lifts his head, bringing them nose to nose, “S’okay Omi,” their lips are millimeters away from touching and he can’t help glancing at them as he speaks, “I can be a little oblivious sometimes…” he trails off as Kiyoomi presses forward past the tiny barrier of air between them. 

The first press of lips sends little zips of electricity across his skin. The kiss is slow and unhurried, every sensation all consuming within the pleasant fog of their high. Kiyoomi’s plush lips slide against his own, heating the air around them as Atsumu buries a hand in dark curls. He tastes like smoke and something so distinctly him it makes Atsumu’s head spin. A gentle tug at his curls parts them minutely, drawing a breathy sound from Kiyoomi that he wants to hear again and again. Atsumu takes the opportunity to drag his tongue along his bottom lip, pressing in to slowly map out the ridges of Kiyoomi’s teeth, to taste him even deeper. He sighs low into the kiss and Kiyoomi brings a hand to his waist, pulling him closer and seeking the warmth of his skin beneath the thick material of his hoodie. The slick slide of their mouths together seems to last forever. 

Eventually they separate, pulling only a fraction of an inch apart, their lips are swollen and their cheeks are flushed; they’re both breathing hard. Kiyoomi leans forward to place a chaste peck to his lips, unable to resist Atsumu’s pout, and points to the still smoking joint on the table without looking away from him, “Want to finish that?” Atsumu nods, now effectively putty in his hands. Kiyoomi turns to pick it up out of the ashtray, taking an inhale. Smoke drifts lazily in the air as he speaks, “Tsumu c’mere…” Atsumu hums low at the sound of the nickname on Kiyoomi’s lips, leaning in as he reaches out for him.

Kiyoomi brings his free hand to Atsumu’s cheek, pulling him closer as he takes a hefty inhale, paper crackling. Blindly placing the joint in the ashtray, he tilts Atsumu’s chin up and brushes their noses together. With a slight pressure on his jaw, Atsumu obediently parts his lips as Kiyoomi slowly lets the thick, white smoke trail between them. He watches Atsumu breathe it in, taking the air right from his lungs. Gently, Kiyoomi blows the last of the smoke past Atsumu’s still parted lips. With quickly waning control, he lets him exhale shakily before leaning in to take his bottom lip between his teeth.

Atsumu lets out a sound somewhere between a sigh and a whine as the points of Kiyoomi’s canines press gently into the soft flesh of his lip. When he pulls away Atsumu chases him to press another kiss to his mouth, loathe to break their contact for even a moment. Atsumu looks so desperate it’s making Kiyoomi feel out of control--his pupils are blown, their darkness consuming the soft brown of his irises, and his brows dip as he pants into the air between them. 

Though the sun is almost completely set, causing a chill in the air, Atsumu feels like he’s on fire. He wants Kiyoomi so bad he feels like he’ll die without it. With strong hands and a rasp of his name he pulls Kiyoomi into his lap, using his grip on his hips to pull him snugly against him. He can feel Omi’s hardness through his shorts, already straining in the soft black fabric. He flexes his hips up and the friction makes them both groan, heat beginning to pool in Atsumu’s belly. 

Kiyoomi drops his head to bite at the skin below Atsumu’s ear with a breathy whisper, “Want to take this inside?” He pulls away to watch Atsumu’s face as he speaks, feeling a firm squeeze at his waist as capable hands begin to wander. The corner of Atsumu’s mouth pulls up in a smirk. “Fuck yes, Omi.” Kiyoomi gasps as he’s lifted into the air, hefted effortlessly into Atsumu’s muscled arms. 

He nips at the skin below his ear, deft hands finding the zipper of Atsumu’s hoodie as he stumbles through the balcony door. The dull sting of teeth has him squeezing the backs of Kiyoomi’s thighs in his hands. He’s out of breath as he pauses behind the couch. Kiyoomi pushes his jacket off of his shoulders and onto the floor. “Bedroom?” Omi points to a door just past the kitchen before capturing him in a searing kiss. He whines at the slick slide of lips and the feeling of long fingers brushing through his undercut.

They reach the bedroom where Atsumu sets Kiyoomi against the sheets on the edge of the bed, pressing forward to lean him back only to be stopped by a hand on his chest. He pulls back, a question on his tongue. Kiyoomi bites his lip, brow furrowing slightly as if he’s considering something. Mistaking his pause for reluctance, Atsumu tells him easily, “We can stop. Watch a movie on the couch, whatever you want, Omi.” 

The earnestness in his voice has a smile tugging at the corners of Kiyoomi’s lips and he’s quick to shake his head, a blush staining his cheeks he replies, “No no, I just…” his eyes dart down and he trails off as he pushes Atsumu back far enough so that he can slide off the bed and sink to his knees in front of him. He watches the breath catch in his chest, lingering there for a second before it’s released with a ragged groan. Fingers lace gently into his curls as Kiyoomi runs his hands across the fabric covered thighs he’s been longing to get between. 

The anticipation is palpable as he hooks his fingers in the waistband of Atsumu’s sweats, tugging them down and helping the blonde step out of them before tossing them aside. He wastes no time leaning forward to mouth at the tan skin before him, pushing his legs apart gently to gain access to the soft expanse of his inner thighs. He bites and sucks at them until he hears Atsumu’s breathing speed above him. He hums in response, laving his tongue over the patches of spit slick mottled purple he left behind and mapping the little valleys of his stretch marks. “Ngh--stop teasin’, Omi” There’s a gentle tug on his curls and he laughs lowly. He could do this forever, but he’s just as desperate as Atsumu is for more.      

Kiyoomi moves eagerly, mouthing at him through the cloth of his boxers and drawing out pretty little sounds from the man above him. He runs a finger lightly over him, feeling the wetness that’s beginning to soak through the fabric between his legs. He uses his thumb to press against his clit through the cotton, reveling in the way his hips flex into the feeling. Impatient now, he uses nimble fingers to wrap around the waistband and pull them to the ground to be quickly tossed aside.

Atsumu barely has time to pull his t-shirt over his head before his hands are flying back down to grasp at silky black curls. For all of the teasing he did leading up to it, Kiyoomi wastes no time getting his mouth on Atsumu’s cunt, tongue pressing between his folds as Atsumu shifts slightly to put a knee up on the mattress, opening himself up and creating space for Kiyoomi’s shoulders between his legs. 

At the first brush of lips against his clit he curses; unable to control the way his hands flex roughly in Kiyoomi’s hair. He starts to apologize, but before he can even get the words out Kiyoomi moans against him at the feeling, eyes flicking up to meet his as he swirls his tongue again, nose pressed into soft hair as he gently shakes his head. Atsumu moans low in his chest, breathing hard as he feels a spike of heat in his belly, “Fuck, Kiyoomi.” At the use of his given name Kiyoomi groans, moving a hand from Atsumu’s thigh to tease at his entrance before pressing in. He presses in with two fingers, pumping them in time with the way he’s slowly circling his clit before curling them to pet at the spongy spot that makes Atsumu tighten around him. Atsumu whines at the sensation, “Fuck--jus’ like that Omi.” 

He thinks he might be dying. Every cell in his body feels alight, heated. Omi’s tongue is downright sinful as he swirls it over his clit. He takes a deep breath as he feels his abs tighten, the coil in his belly tight with pleasure. Suddenly, the sensations are gone and it rips an absolutely pathetic sound from his chest, he feels tears prick at the corners of his eyes at his stunted orgasm. Kiyoomi is on his feet quickly, pulling him in harshly with a hand at the back of his neck, the kiss is all tongue and teeth and the taste of himself.

Kiyoomi desperately speaks against him, out of breath, “M’sorry, I need–” he pauses to take Atsumu’s tongue between his lips and sucks, “I need--ngh, Atsumu…sit on my face.” Atsumu feels his cunt clench around nothing at the wanton tone of his voice. He nods vigorously, accent thickening as he’s nearly overtaken with need, “Fuck yes--christ yer drivin’ me crazy.” Atsumu pulls Kiyoomi’s shirt over his head as they move so they’re both on the mattress, his hands spanning across milky skin.  

One hand wrapped around the head board and the other grasping at dark curls, Atsumu kneels above Kiyoomi, hesitant, “Pinch me if ya need a break, yeah?” Kiyoomi rolls his eyes and pulls down hard on Atsumu’s thighs, tongue already on him before he can resist. It doesn’t take Atsumu long to get close again, every touch of Kiyoomi’s mouth against him feels all consuming. He’s circling his clit before sucking at it lightly, and he’s moaning against him like he’s enjoying this just as much as Atsumu is.

He can’t stop the stream of words coming out of his mouth as Kiyoomi licks into him, fucking him with his tongue. Atsumu’s hand tightens in Kiyoomi’s hair, grinding down into the feeling. Shocks of liquid heat dance across his skin as he moves his hand from the head board to his own chest. He brushes his fingertips against his nipple, drawing it into a stiff peak before pinching it firmly between his thumb and forefinger. He can feel Kiyoomi’s eyes on him, and at the same moment he sucks on his clit before ever so gently rolling it between his teeth.

Atsumu pitches forward as he comes, feeling the heat under his skin burn hotter as it pulses through his body. He curses loudly when Kiyoomi moves from his clit to press his tongue inside of him as his walls flutter. He doesn’t stop until Atsumu is whining from overstimulation, looking down to meet Kiyoomi’s eyes. He looks like a dream below him, with rosy cheeks and blown pupils, his curls a mess from Atsumu’s grip on them. His breath still comes in pants as the aftershocks of his climax flit across his limbs; he settles back lightly on Kiyoomi’s chest, reaching to palm him through his shorts. He moans, and grips Atsumu’s thigh a little tighter. “M’not gonna ask how yer so good at that,” 

Kiyoomi huffs a laugh at the smirk in his words as he helps him wriggle down his chest until his thick thighs are bracketing his hips, but Atsumu keeps going until he’s on his knees between Kiyoomi’s spread legs pulling his shorts and boxers off in one fell sweep. Without hesitation he takes Kiyoomi’s cock in his hand, calloused palm giving him a few slow pumps before he dips to suck the flushed tip between lush lips. He licks a stripe from base to tip, eyes trained on Kiyoomi. 

His hips flex up and Atsumu can tell he’s holding himself back from fucking up into his throat by the crease in his brow. He pulls off just long enough to smirk at him before taking him fully into his mouth. One hand drops to stroke across the delicate skin of his balls and the other pumps at the very base of his cock in time with the bob of his head.

Atsumu wants Kiyoomi to lose control, just a little bit--taking him deeper down his throat with each pass until his nose is nestled in thick, curly hair. It doesn’t take long before Kiyoomi is driving his hips up, seeking to fuck Atsumu’s throat deeper with each thrust and a hand splayed in bleach blonde hair. Atsumu moans deep in his chest everytime the head of Kiyoomi’s cock nudges the back of his throat, thumb stroking gently across the moles dotting the pale skin of his hip. Kiyoomi responds with a breathy groan of his own, thrusting into his mouth a few more times before pulling Atsumu off of him so he can sit up and suck his bottom lip between his teeth.

His lips and chin are slick with spit but Kiyoomi doesn’t care, surprisingly turned on by the mess he’s made of Atsumu. “It w’s good, Omi?” the blonde asks, voice rough. Panting and moving to sit in Kiyoomi’s lap so he can grind against him, they moan in tandem at the slick slide of his length against Atsumu’s cunt. Kiyoomi reaches for his bedside table, pulling the drawer open to fish out a condom but Atsumu stops him with a shake of his head. “W’nna feel ya,” he reaches between them, one hand at the nape of Kiyoomi’s neck while he uses the other to line himself up before sinking down just enough so the tip of his cock pops past his entrance. 

He’s barely inside of him and it’s so wet and hot that Kiyoomi has to squeeze his eyes shut and grab at Atsumu’s hips to keep from coming embarrassingly soon. Atsumu snickers at him, his smirk is teasing and his accent is thick, “What’s th’matter, baby?” Kiyoomi replies with a strained, “Fuck off,” but there are stars in his eyes as he looks up from mouthing across Atsumu’s collarbone. When Kiyoomi loosens his grip Atsumu cants his hips, sinking down until he’s fully seated inside him, both of them letting out little whines at the sensation.

The stretch burns a little, but he can’t help flexing his hips again to draw Kiyoomi even deeper. There’s a pit in his belly, like a pool filled with heated metal, so hot it’s a silvery liquid. When he lifts himself just a little before grinding back down Kiyoomi brings a hand between them to circle his clit with the pad of his thumb, the movement made slick with Atsumu’s wetness. 

They’re forehead to forehead, both sets of eyes locked on the way Kiyoomi’s cock disappears into him with each flex of hips. Atsumu says his name quietly between breathy moans, lifting a hand to his cheek. “Ngh--fuck, righ’there Omi,” he’s struggling to form coherent thoughts, the simmering want in Kiyoomi’s eyes driving him ever higher. He feels heat whip through his core, pressing forward to kiss Omi as his cunt tightens and his hips lose their rhythm. 

Kiyoomi takes over with hands at Atsumu’s waist, pulling him down hard and fast as he grits out, “Come on my cock--fuck Atsumu,” he whines when he feels Atsumu clench hard around him, “pussy feels a--ah, so fucking good.” With one more harsh thrust Atsumu feels that molten pool spill over, flooding his limbs with heat as his thighs tremble. Kiyoomi pulls them flush, grinding deep as he rides out his orgasm. Their lips stay locked through it all, needing to be connected in as many ways as possible. 

The desperate nature of their kiss wanes to something much softer as they come down from their climaxes. Atsumu’s got both hands on Kiyoomi’s cheeks now, holding him like he’ll break if he’s not careful, a slight tremble in his hands. Their lips slide together slow and warm. Atsumu whimpers at the overstimulation when his hips flex, aftershocks causing him to tense around Kiyoomi again. 

The dark haired man pulls away with a nip at Atsumu’s lower lip, gently pulling out with a delicate hold on his waist. Atsumu whines at the loss as Kiyoomi gently lays him back against the pillows, leaving kisses on his chest and shoulders. “M’gonna get a towel, ‘kay?” Atsumu smiles softly at him and nods, relaxing back against the mattress. Kiyoomi returns quickly, now clad in clean boxers and offering the rag to Atsumu, not sure if he’d prefer to do it himself. Atsumu raises a brow playfully before he speaks, pointing a finger at him, “S’yer cum, I think that puts clean ya on clean up.”

Kiyoomi, honest to god, giggles as he moves to kneel beside Atsumu on the bed. He cleans the sensitive skin between his legs with gentle motions, apologizing when Atsumu flinches with oversensitivity, before tossing the rag towards the laundry basket in the corner of the room. He settles next to him, and Atsumu rolls to his side easily, pulling him against his chest like they’ve done this a million times. Kiyoomi hums against him, content as he tucks his head under Atsumu’s chin. A warm hand draws light circles on the soft skin of his back, and his own gently caresses the skin of Atsumu’s shoulder as they lay there quietly. 

Kiyoomi thumbs over the now faded scars on Atsumu's chest, thoughts wandering. He’s struck by the realization that he hasn’t even checked in on Atsumu to make sure he’s feeling okay after smoking. Kiyoomi squirms until Atsumu loosens his hold so he can lift himself onto his elbows to see his face. Atsumu turns to meet his eye, relaxed as he presses a kiss to the twin moles on Kiyoomi’s forehead. “What’s up, Omi?” He puts a hand on Atsumu’s cheek, thumbing across his warm skin and noting the smattering of freckles across his nose. “Are you feeling okay?”

It takes a second for Atsumu to realize Kiyoomi’s asking him about his high. He stretches his arms above his head. “M’feelin’ great. Didn’t really know what ta expect but t’snice.” Kiyoomi smiles at him, relieved that he’s having a good time. “Wanna get dressed and watch a movie on the couch?” he glances at the alarm clock on his night stand, “It’s only eight.” Atsumu checks the clock as well before he responds, “M’kay.”

Kiyoomi offers to get his duffel from where he left it in the genkan, and Atsumu is sitting on the edge of the bed when he returns. He tosses the duffel lightly at his feet, sitting on the bed next to him and leaning back comfortably. He watches the planes of Atsumu’s shoulders as he shrugs a t-shirt on, muscles shifting beneath the soft fabric. “You should put the sweats you came in back on,” Atsumu turns to him, confused, “they do make your ass look good.” Atsumu laughs and rolls his eyes but bends to grab his gray sweats off the floor. 

They drag the comforter from the bed with them into the living room, cuddling up on the couch as Kiyoomi scrolls through a streaming service until Atsumu points out something he likes. Totoro is dancing across the screen when Kiyoomi jumps up suddenly, sliding on socked feet across the floor to the kitchen pantry. “You want a snack?” he asks from the other room. Atsumu yells back, “M’not picky, I’ll just have whatever yer havin’!” Kiyoomi smiles at the easy domesticity of the moment. He pulls a few snacks from the cabinet and lays them out on a plate to share before carrying that and a bowl of the pasta salad he made earlier into the living room. 

Kiyoomi notes that Atsumu looks lost in thought when he enters the room. Atsumu turns fully towards him as he sits, placing a hand against the bare skin of his waist in search of some sort of anchor. “Kiyoomi,” his voice is lacking a bit of its usual brash confidence when he speaks and it makes Kiyoomi’s chest ache, “You can say no, but I was wonderin’ if…” he makes a frustrated noise. “Sorry, t’just--I was wonderin’ if you ever bottomed.” He pushes on before Kiyoomi can say anything, “S’fine if you don’t want to–” he watches Atsumu’s jaw tighten, “or if you don’t want to with me because…ya know,” he gestures to himself. 

There’s a moment of quiet, only the soft sounds of the movie in the background breaking it. Atsumu sinks back, pulling his hand from Kiyoomi’s waist to draw it close to his chest--preparing for the worst. Kiyoomi’s voice is hushed, deadly, “Who.” Atsumu is stunned by the seriousness in his demeanor. Kiyoomi asks again, eyes softer this time as he brings his hands to Atsumu’s face lightly. “Who made you think that?” Atsumu just blinks at him, his answer coming out jumbled, “Ya know it’s just–” Kiyoomi interrupts him gently, “We can do whatever you want, Atsumu. I just want to be with you, however you’ll have me.” Atsumu’s responding smile is warm as Kiyoomi continues on, “My offer to fuck em’ up still stands though.” Atsumu snorts, “Yer kinda goofy when yer high, Omi.” He’s realizing that this Kiyoomi has a lot less of a filter than sober Kiyoomi, who already has no trouble saying what he’s thinking. 

They cuddle into the couch, Kiyoomi’s back against Atsumu’s chest as they both lay long ways, covered by the comforter from the bed. Although this outcome hadn’t been Kiyoomi’s reasoning for inviting Atsumu here, he doesn’t regret it for a second.

[gingerjolover]

hiii mama g!!! it’s my birthday today and so i’ve been thinking about what julien would be like on soft!gf’s birthday. first off, BIRTHDAY POST!!! (i’m taking her birthday post for herself into consideration while typing this) i think it’d be a slideshow of pictures, a couple that she’s taken of you and a couple that the boys or members of muna have taken of you. she’d definitely write a lengthy paragraph where every sentence is articulate and sooo meaningful to the point where it’s like your heart beats abnormally faster as you continue to read because she’s just SOOOO!!!!!!

secondly, i don’t really Imagine julien and soft!gf as hugeeee party people, so i don’t think they’d stay up at the strike of midnight waiting for soft!gf’s birthday. instead, i think julien wakes up at the crack of dawn, and obviously she knows how to cook, so she makes not only the most pleasing breakfast JUST to look at, but the most delicious breakfast for the both of them. so then soft!gf wakes up to julien, who’s already smiling ear to ear holding a tray table and setting it down before just peppering you with kisses and saying happy birthday in between each kiss I CANTTTTT IM FEELING ALL FUZZY shes so cutesie

and 24/7 on your bday, acts of service julien just never stops. she does every minor thing you’re so capable of doing for you. finished your breakfast? julien’s already taken it to the kitchen and washing the dishes. dropped something? she’s bent down to grab it for you. also, even though she already does this, she makes sure to open every single door for you, pull out the chair you’re gonna sit at, open the car door for you… like she is ON IT!

and then after having made sure she’s done (almost……) everything in her power to ensure that the day was all about you, there’s just oneeee more thing she was waiting to do to realllyyyy show how much she loves you…….. you get the VIBES! won’t say too much on that cause i’ve already talked your ear off and once i start, i won’t be able to stop BUT YEAHHHH JULIEN ON SOFT!GF’S BDAY ☹️☹️☹️💘

first off, HAPPY BDAY BABY!!!!! I hope you had SUCH a great day<3

and you are soooooooo right, i fully believe that acts of service is julien’s main love language (i have a blurb coming up about love languages for munagenius) and your birthday is the PERFECT excuse for her to literally wait on you hand and foot

as for the insta post i think you’re 1000% right and i can literally imagine julien scrolling through her album of you (of pics she’s taken but also ones that she’s been sent of you from muna or the boys or mutual friends) she would be so fucking picky about which photos to post making sure they encapsulate your personality perfectly and you’re right the post would be so beautiful and so heartwarming 😭 i think she would take the time to post the pics of your initials on her finger or a tattoo she got for you with you like posing cheekily with a thumbs up next to her or something

and i agree, unless it was a big birthday i can’t imagine them throwing a party but maybe if your best friend was in town or maybe your family or if it was a bigger bday and the boys, muna, kelli and ally and other friends wanted to do something for you it would still be super lowkey and julien would spend the whole day with you beforehand

she gives off the vibes of like if you open your door yourself she leans over, closes it and then runs to your side of the car like a bullet and then opens it, she def gets grumbly when you try and do stuff yourself

and I GET THE VIBES BABE I DO, i think she would just want it to be extra special and do everything you wanna do (she def makes a birthday sex playlist with an obsecure name i will die on this hill)

i also wanted to add she def wants to do everything for you on your bday, i think canonically soft!gf and julien don’t exchange gifts, like not big ones, mainly because they both do a lot of little things throughout the year, but julien ALWAYS spoils you on your bday, its usually stuff that’s practical but she loves to get you little things to watch you open in bed when your hair is all messy and eyes are sleepy, you’re like holding the covers up over your chest and she’s rubbing your back as you unwrap a bunch of little presents 🥹

[o0o0thorn0o0o]

I love him I love him I love him I love him I love him I

Did I mention I love him? Haha, but yeah, I adore Hinata. He’s just so babyyyyyy. And every once in a blue moon, I get in this random mood just obsessing over him… which doesn’t last long because there’s, like, no new content, ackkk. I’m just looking at the same stuff over and over again ;~;

So… why not make some? I do get into bouts where I really do want to draw him but not anything substantial since I have other planned artworks. So I decided to draw the bab on his birthday… last year… but those two super late IH posts took up my time… But, yeah, can do that now, finally! (It’s still the 23rd somewhere in the world… Like, Hawaii, at least, I think. Though, I’m still very much cutting it close ^^;;)

You’ll see him pop up every now and again on this blog, but also, there’s another reason I really wanted to post about him, too. See, I made this OC back in middle school who is still very much an active one rn—it’s just, middle school me was shameless and she based him heavily on Hinata, eheh. And I wouldn’t wanna post about my OC without posting about Hinata first. 

I’ll get around to posting about that OC plus his cast sometime in the future, but yeah, it’ll be pretty obvious which one I’m talking about when I do (plus, there’s another OC who is also heavily based on another character—shameless, like I said, eheh—but that one should be pretty obvious, too… Ig the whole main trio kinda has obvious-ish basis, but the third one isn’t as obvious (unless you know who the first OC is based off of, Ig) and he’s more superficially based off another character compared to the other two. That said, they’ve all developed very much into their own characters, mm hmm. It’d be… unfortunate if they didn’t, considering they’ve been in the works since middle school…

Anywho, one last OC-related tidbit! So, while I had based the OCs off of canon characters’ appearances, personalities, and interests, things like birthdays were just based off of the vibes my characters gave me. Which is super funny, ‘cause I never looked up Hinata’s birthday until last year to know when to draw him, and wouldn’t you know it? My OC’s birthday just happens to be a day before his, pffft. I just thought my OC gave off peak summer vibes, so July was the obvious month. And he also seemed like he’d fit an identical double digit birth day, and he’s definitely more of an even than an odd. So… yeah, what a coincidence p, eheh. Ig it’s a really fitting birthday for this kinda character, eh?

Back to Hinata, though. I have very mixed opinions about maid-sama as a whole (I… rant about it every so often…), and I never thought about reading the manga… but I got desperate for Hinata content, so… yeah, I read the whole thing just for him. It was… painful at times… But it was worth it for him… I’ve got so many screenshots, eheh. That said, I don’t plan on ever revisiting it (if I want to revisit anything, it’d probably be the anime, and then, only certain episodes y’know, the ones featuring Hinata, cough, cough), but if I do, it’s to take every single screenshot of Hinata just so I never touch it again, haha. 

It’s so funny, though: Hinata’s not even one of my top five favorite guys (definitely top ten, though, but top five’s positions are set, while the rest of the five flip-flop), but I treat him a lot better than my favorite guys, pffttt. But… like… he’s so precioussssss…

Ahhhhhh, I wish there was more content for himmmm, ahhhhh…!

Anyway, I’m very much sleep-deprived rn, hence you get… all this… I’m too tired to be embarrassed at the moment; sorry, future me.

[sincerely-sofie]

I saw your tag about meeting your boyfriend because of posting on Tumblr and I'm very curious as to how that happened. Like, did you find each other's blogs, saw you had stuff in common and met up IRL? What happened? Please give us details (if you're willing to talk about it, no worries if not!)

Also, for a boyfriend tag, may I suggest... Calcium. Cuz you're a skeleton and calcium makes bones stronger... I'll see myself out

(Referencing the tags of this post)

Oh my gosh. Buddy you have just opened up Pandora’s box. Brace yourself for the most adorable couple origin story ever.

He followed me fairly early on into the process of me posting my work on Tumblr. I don’t remember exactly, but I think my TPiaG mini comic “Heart-to-Heartbreak” was the first post he ever reblogged from me. After that, he was super enthusiastic and involved with my blog and engaged with basically every post I ever made. This guy was one of THE followers of my work— if I posted something, he was always there to like it and share super thoughtful commentary or hilarious jokes.

I absolutely adored him even back then, and we had barely exchanged a handful of messages on Tumblr where he thanked me for inspiring him to get back into art and writing, and I blubbered about how meaningful that was to me. We eventually followed each other on Spotify and I think that’s about the point when I really should have realized I had it bad for him. I was CONSTANTLY rambling to my mom about how much I wanted to be this internet stranger’s best friend, but I was super hesitant because our family has been huge on online stranger danger and never really talking to anyone unless you know exactly who they are in real life. I’m an adult and all, yeah, but I was still super anxious about internet strangers at large— though he never once made me uncomfortable or wary :>

Eventually, he made a goofy post about it being his birthday, and I bolted to tell my mom about that and how I didn’t have enough time that day to polish up any content of his favorite characters I’ve written and post it as a gift for him. I was utterly distraught and pretty much full-on monologuing to my ever-so patient mother about how much I wanted to befriend this man and how amazing he was and how shy I felt about the matter, and she looked me dead in the eyes and told me to ask him if he wanted to message each other more and get to know each other better.

I sent him a message over Tumblr, we exchanged Discord usernames, and I’m pretty sure it was just over a week of messaging and getting to know each other more and more every day later when he told me he thought he was in love with me— to which I very eloquently rattled off a bunch of nonsense that ended in “I don’t know how to communicate this other than by saying ‘dude, same’.”

After that, we’ve only gotten more and more mutually obsessed. Thankfully he’s in the same country as me, and we’re even timezone neighbors, so he’s not on the opposite side of the world— and when I realized some of my household were going on a trip to the same state where he lived for a family wedding, I SCRAMBLED to insert myself into that trip last-minute. We had originally thought that we’d meet up when he could drive to my state (a process that would take a long time because of some complicating factors), but when I realized my family were flying down there, I was practically foaming at the mouth with the thought of seeing him so much sooner. We met up not that long ago and were even able to meet some of each other’s family members (my family absolutely adores him, and I think his likes me a fair bit too, hehe). But listen: when I tell you I adored him before, I was absolutely head-over-heels for him when we met in person. I got to hug him and I had this thought come to mind of “Oh. This is the person I want to marry.” And I’ve never once doubted it :>

During the times we met up we mostly sat around and basked in each other’s presence and stared at each other. I ended up breaking eye contact a lot because I kept getting flustered and also because this man is TALL and I had to periodically rest my neck 😂 I was able to give him some pins I had made of our PMD team that represents us, and my boyfriend. My boyfriend, you guys. He had the gall to send me a screenshot of an eBay listing of the world’s most adorable Snorlax plush weeks before while we were on a call together, bought it immediately after I had said I loved the plush’s face as we hung up, and then GAVE ME IT WHEN WE MET UP.

Look at him. That’s my son now. I was trying to think of what to name the little guy when my toddler niece dubbed him Tummy. My boyfriend approves of the monicker— as he should, because it’s the bestest name for the bestest boy.

TL;DR— He followed me on tumblr, I desperately wanted to be friends with him and sent him my Discord username on his birthday, we exchanged “I love you”s a week later, and I was almost sick on a plane because I was so excited to see him during a trip to his state for a family member’s wedding. We are absolutely obsessed with each other and kind of instantly Knew from the get-go that we’re going to be each other’s Person™️.

As for the tag, I'm not sure I’ll go with it but I’m starting to consider “The Boyfriend Bird Feeder”, because it works out to the acronym BFBF which I find funny, I mainly want to make the tag as a way for him to easily find posts where I’m talking about how amazing he is whenever he needs a pick-me-up (and so people can block the tag if they find me raving about my man so much annoying lol), and his persona that we spent all day yesterday cooking up looks like this:

[daynightshipping]

💚 Welcome to Daynightshipping 💚

Wowee I’m finally making a pinned post to explain all this!! My name is Ares, I’m 22 and extremely gay. I’ll warn you now I am the literal manifestation of 30 mental illnesses and banned from most public spaces. As John Mulaney once put it, “I also dont want me to be doing what I’m doing”. I’m ADHD and there’s probably some autism in there as well I don’t know anymore. My brain is not normal basically lmfao.

I ship with Jesse Glenn from Bakugan Battle Brawlers. I have loved this fruit since the moment I laid eyes on him at like 12 years old or however old I was when I watched Bakugan lol. About a year ago I got sick with covid, rewatched the show and fell absolutely head over heels again…. I definitely attribute him to being my gay awakening (even though I thought I was just a really fucked up weird straight girl up until after I graduated high school). This blog is for the ship between my self insert and Jesse, although I may refer to my s/i and myself interchangeably.

What is the ship?

Jesse Glenn x Aires Gallo. Aires is a boyfailure brawler who meets Jesse in Bakugan Interspace and finds himself in love and also entangled in an interplanetary war! Fun! Lots of angst potential here if u know the source material lmao

Why the name?

It’s inspired by the song When The Day Met The Night by Panic! At The Disco

DNI?

I don’t really have a DNI just don’t be an asshole about me self shipping or anything lmao. It’s honestly rare I block anyone but if ur being shitty enough I will 💀

As far as like content and sharing f/o’s and stuff I’ve always been of the opinion that it’s not my place to police anyone and if I don’t like something I may complain bc I’m a complainer, but in reality it’s not that big of a deal and more of a personal preference or something I just need to get over. Obviously not into going out of my way to harass people as long as they don’t harass me lol. That being said, I’m not the biggest fan of Jesse in m/f ships (and just most m/f ships in general UNLESS it’s your self ship or Zelink then I love you mwuah) so, not that I really think anyone would bc this character is so niche in general, dont like tag me or send me that type of stuff. TLDR, keep it at a distance ig lmfao.

Other stuff???

My headcanons aren’t exactly 100% clear and I do like to imagine different scenarios between these 2. One of the divergent paths is where they have a kid together, Zephyr, so I’ll of course post him too. Idk this started off as more of a selfship dumping zone and it still is kind of that.

I have a NSFT blog (gummysharksafterdark) where I do post some selfship stuff too that’s obviously 18+ only.

My ask box is always open, and my dms are too to some extent, although I don’t answer those as often usually. My main is gummy-sharks666 which is mostly Bakugan right now bc that’s what I’m hyperfixated on atm and other general fandom stuff. I look forward to interacting w other oc/canon shippers and selfshippers, esp ones with anime or hobbyani f/o’s, and also obviously Bakugan fans if u care this oc/canon stuff at all uwu.

That’s about it, so yeah

(Art at the top gifted by @ / freaquin)

[bvannn]

Weekly Update March 29, 2024

I’m pretty volatile in terms of mood, but I did get a good amount of actual work done on projects. I’m exhausted, I haven’t fixed my sleep schedule yet because I’m addicted to working. Like I’ve genuinely tried to stop and go to be early or sleep in and I just always ‘just one more drawing, just one more verse, just one more thumbnail, it’s let me find this one perfect instrument, just let me finish these four bars, just let me-‘ and before you know it it’s two hours past bedtime and you haven’t even brushed your teeth yet. Or eaten dinner. On the bright side all the stuff I’ve done has gone pretty well!

First big exciting point, that little pitch comic I’ve been working on? Thumbnailing/writing is done. Done enough anyway. I might still go back to edit some pages but I can get going on others now, which is great because even though I’ll only post the full thing once I have the whole comic complete, I might post individual panels, so there will be stuff to see! I’m also going to try to keep writing at night, so I can let other episodes and stories play out a bit, but Art priority will be shifting more to the comic. It will be 30 pages so it will likely take a while, but I’m hoping I’ll be able to do 3 or so panels a week while I’m finishing up this semester and switch to a page a day once I have more time.

Music is also going very well. I’m putting the final mixing touches on a vocaloid cover song (unless I decide to go back and redo the guitar, which I might), which I’ll try to start putting visuals to soon, although that’ll likely be pretty slow since I finally got past the thing that was bottlenecking me on the comic project. I’ll also have to get licensing settled, although that currently looks to be affordable. The whole project has given me a taste for blood and now I want to do a bunch of other cover stuff, but good news: I also found a nearly finished cover of another song that I had put aside in favor of the Green Day one. That’ll probably take a while before I can call it ‘done’, though, whereas I could probably release the first cover song today if I really wanted. I have some time tonight where I’ll try to throw some music together, maybe I’ll work on that.

There’s a few smaller nearly-finished songs I dug up from the depths of my WIPs too, one I need to redo a melody line, one I was bottlenecked on finding a specific instrument for, which I did the other day in lab, and a few others that also either need structure or Melodies. Plus there’s those two that are waiting on lyrics still but I’m still chugging at that, just slowly. I might also try that one tonight too, if I finish or can’t do the vocal cover for whatever reason. There’s also a couple character themes that haven’t really been priorities but I did re-outline one that I’ve been working on, so once I have recording time I can go try that one. That one is on its third draft so I really hope this one will stick.

Other miscellaneous projects haven’t seen much progress this week. I’m still thinking things through for that epithet TTRPG campaign, but I’m having a bit of trouble outlining the third chapter. I just need more brain power for that though, so earlier bedtimes would do it. A couple other art things keep coming to mind but I’ve been focusing more on big projects, so that’ll probably continue if I can. This next week I want to focus on keeping my body as healthy as I can, and then comic, second cover song, and visuals for first cover song, in that order of priority. Passive projects I can work on while doing other activities will be epithet TTRPG planning, song lyrics, and outlining future comic stuff, in that order of priority. If I come up with any song Melodies or ideas for visuals for the song I’m finishing up those priorities might shift, but right now I want to stick to more of a plan, since it worked out well this week.

[britesparc]

Weekend Top Ten #626

Top Ten Arctic Monkey Songs

This is a list I’ve been planning for ages and ages. Originally it was going to go up around the time I saw the band live last year; I can’t remember now why I postponed it. But – long way round – here we are at last.

Anyway, I like this band. I vividly remember the first time I heard them. As I’ve said a million times on this blog, I’m not much of a muso; I don’t follow “the scene”, I don’t pay much attention at all to music unless I like it. So I come to stuff very late, I don’t know what’s from what album, I’ve got very little knowledge of a lot of music history, that sort of thing. So when I first heard I Bet You Look Good on the Dancefloor played one day on Radio 1 as I was walking around Birmingham, on some errand for the BBC’s daytime show Mind Your Own Business, I assumed it was an older track; maybe something from The Clash that I was supposed to already have heard a million times in my youth. But no. It was new.

It was stunning. I’d never heard anything like that – not a new song, not recently. It was vibrant and full of life, and it was fun, and it was funny, and it was fast and loud. There wasn’t really a lot of stuff like it back then; we were still in the post-Britpop doldrums, the Pop Idol-era of ballads and fluff, where guitar bands seemed to be unpopular. At least, that’s what it seemed like to me; as I said, I just sort of bump up against music accidentally until it gets its hooks into me.

Ever since then I’ve loved them. If maybe in recent years they’ve settled into a sort of rhythm of often-weird concept albums and more melancholy work, they still kick out a fair few bangers every album. They are, I think, the only band I’ve ever seen live more than once – like I said, I don’t really “do” music, I “do” in-depth analyses of what the “S” on Superman’s suit looks like (not that those things are mutually exclusive, of course). But it’s been fascinating watching them grow and evolve, not just musically but culturally, as they become megastars. They’re part of the firmament now; veteran British rockers. My kids will probably look at them the way I look at the Rolling Stones, or something. Crazy.

Anyway, here are my favourites of their songs. I make no apologies for most of these coming from their earlier albums; like I said, I think as they’ve gone a bit slower and more melancholically-introspective, even if I’ve appreciated their stuff, it hasn’t quite got its hooks into me the way their early work did. Also, y’know, I’m not 24 anymore, absorbing this stuff with a fresh sense of a world undiscovered.

So there you go.

I’m going to eschew my usual individual dissection this week; I like writing about the things in my list, but here I feel it hard to parse the differences between the songs for some reason. So instead I say, let’s just enjoy them all; a little smorgasbord of northern musical delights. Suck it and see, and all that.

I Bet You Look Good on the Dancefloor (2005)

Cornerstone (2009)

When the Sun Goes Down (2006)

Fluorescent Adolescent (2007)

A Certain Romance (2006)

505 (2007)

Don’t Sit Down ‘Cause I’ve Moved Your Chair (2011)

Suck It and See (2011)

Brick by Brick (2011)

Mardy Bum (2006)

Fluorescent Adolescent is the best video though, we can all agree on that, right?

[olderjodijournals]

Sunday, June 2, 2002

I decided that little by little, I would go ahead and print these journals out once they’re fine-tuned. That way, I don’t have to worry about lost information. I know that even with multiple backups, stuff can still be lost. I also don’t give a shit anymore who reads these. If you don’t like something I might have to say, that’s your problem.

Still haven’t heard from Paula, so I’ve basically given up on her till I do.

They did send another Chris doll. This time by UPS. That’s who they usually use, but UPS doesn’t deliver to PO boxes. Tom’s going to call them and have them send it back. I definitely want that other fiber optic fairy, though. Fairy of Cork, I think she’s called (some Irish fairy). This one’s a plug-in rather than a battery-operated one. I like how I can turn these things on when I’m going to bed in the daylight, knowing it’ll be dark when I get up. That way, I’m not fumbling around in the dark when I do get up.

Tom says we’re gonna up the ordering of the Arab and Brazilian dolls a month in advance to two weeks from now, cuz we deserve it, as he says. That’ll be my anniversary present, and mine to him will be new glasses.

Which will it be - out of stock or left to sit on a shelf at the post office for a month? It’s gotta be one or the other. God knows I could never get a doll in just 10 business days after ordering it unless it’s one I already got like with this second Chris fairy. That one was right on time, as was the second Giselle doll back in Phoenix, but was the first one, and the Maria doll on time? No, of course not. The only ones to come on time were the Ashton-Drake dolls, but that’s only cuz they take such a long time anyway.

I slept an amazing 13½ hours last night. Now why in the world did I need so much sleep? Was I really that tired? I guess so. I certainly have been busy. Been busy online and worrying, God’s favorite pastime for me. And like most things in my life, it always comes down to the freeloaders and what trouble they may cause me. The only difference is that any havoc they may wreak upon me since we moved is done indirectly rather than directly. Sometimes I don’t feel like probation is probation, but rather an extension of jail. How many more weeks am I gonna have to sit and wonder what they’re gonna do about this class bullshit? I just want to know and get it over with! Then I can get hit with the next problem or at least potential problem that these freeloaders are gonna cause.

I’m so sick of having to pay for other people’s stupidity (referring to whoever felt my reading comprehension skills were low unless they just threw that in as an excuse to have one more thing to control me with)! It seems like most of Tom’s and my suffering are due to the consequences of others misunderstanding us. We spend way too much time correcting other people’s mistakes or getting ripped off.

I hope Joy will be in this next coming week, cuz my schedule would be perfect for it. Then we can get information on the classes and hopefully get on with that without the state interfering with any more of our time or money.

I accidentally came across a wallpaper site that has something like 22 million pictures, so that’s what I’ve been busy with. They have a huge variety of awesome pictures, most of which are high res. They’re calling the prairie dogs here desert gophers.

Monday, June 3, 2002

I can’t believe that in 6 days I’ll have been here a decade!

Meanwhile, Tom downloaded me a really cool screensaver and wallpaper changer program. This wallpaper changer, unlike my old one, allows me to put as many pictures into a folder for display as I want. It also changes my desktop icon colors to go with whatever colors are in the pictures. Some of the colors are ugly, but I like the surprise of it. It lets me either display pictures in order (usually alphabetically by title names) or random display. I’ve got it on random display.

The screen saver thing works the same as the wallpaper program. It displays as many pictures as I want it to, changing every 15 seconds in random order, but the way cool thing about this one is that I can have it play MP3s too, also in random order.

Tuesday, June 4, 2002

The fucking rats woke me up for the last time last night. No more wheels for them while I’m asleep! Its squeaking was what woke me. I had to take a Benadryl to fall back asleep, so naturally, when the alarm went off at 8:00, I was dog-tired.

I want to maintain a day schedule until Friday the 21st. I’d maintain it just till the 15th if it weren’t for the freeloaders, but the freeloaders say I have to report just one week later, and that might not be enough time to flip my schedule. I should be used to the fact that most of my life comes down to the freeloaders by now. After all, I’m an expert at it. It’s nothing new. It’s been this way since 1996. However, it’s something I just can’t get used to. Maybe in another year.

If only we’d both done our homework up front and known all the facts! If we’d only known what we came to know too late! I’d never have been in jail and I’d never have met Teddy Bear, which would be a good thing, in light of her abandoning me the way she has.

Mary, I could take her or leave her. I wonder why I haven’t heard back from her, though. Hasn’t she had enough time to ask around about the bear’s whereabouts, not that I care anymore, cuz all I know is that Teddy Bear couldn’t have cared the way she led me to believe she did? Whether or not she got my letter, she’d have called if she cared and she didn’t.

Mary never even let me know if she got the stuff I sent her, and again I wonder if someone’s playing games and could be interfering with our mail.

I always believed that public pretenders just didn’t care all that much since they weren’t being paid by their clients, not that they were out to convict along with the DA. Then again, I’ve never been charged with a felony before this, so how was I to know that since public pretenders work for the state and since it was the state that was against me, failing their clients means “winning” for them? Conviction is a victory for them just like it is for the DA. They’re all on the same side.

And if it wasn’t for Tom, I would still believe to this day I went down for the journals and not this letter. Nor would I know about the information Paul withheld from us.

How much longer am I going to let this state victimize me? When am I going to just turn my back and walk away? Oh, how I want to so bad! How I want to show them - see? You can’t always get your way and you can’t push just anyone around. Certainly not me! - But I know that I’d be treated no different than if I’d been a convicted mass murderer who escaped from prison. They’d pursue me as if I were a heavily armed and dangerous person. That means they’d either bust through the door, or they’d throw teargas in here. They wouldn’t consider me a lower priority. They’d put just as much energy and effort into getting at me as they did with Ted Bundy. Then once they got me, I’d probably be looking at close to a decade in prison, then a good 5 years to life on probation once released. Like I said, I’m forced to take this abuse that I wouldn’t deserve even if I wrote them a million threatening letters. It’s just like being strapped to a chair while someone beats on you. There’s just no breaking free!

When Tom was out burning a few days ago, I went out and called to him from about 30 feet away, asking if he wanted a baked potato as I was about to make one for myself. This was in the early evening.

He told me to keep my voice down since voices carry at that hour, so no one would look out to see who was talking, then report us for burning trash.

In the past, I’d have been like, “Oh, you and your silly fears and paranoias! You worry too much about what others may do.”

But now I know better. I know that we must see each and every individual out there as being the potential threat and enemy that they are. Just like animals have to be wary of other animals, we have to watch out for other people. People like Doe and Art would say our attitude sucks, but if our attitude keeps us safer, out of jail and from losing money, we’ll keep our sucky attitude.

There appears to be a new house visible about two properties in front. I can only see part of the top of the house. It looks to be a tan-colored house. I heard what sounded like loud engines around here the other day, but when I looked outside, I didn’t see anything. Well, maybe this was what I heard.

Wednesday, June 5, 2002

Tom’s coming up on his 7-year anniversary at the bank. Of course, that’s nothing when you consider the fact that he was at his last two jobs for 16-17 years, as he said.

And we’re coming up on our 8th anniversary. Wow! My present to him will be new glasses, and his to me will be those Arab and Brazilian dolls. The fight will be on to get them in 10 days. Which will they be, out of stock, or left to sit on a shelf at the PO for a month? It’ll be one or the other, no doubt. They should get here by the same day as Joy’s deadline - Tom’s b-day, the 28th, but we know they won’t get here till mid-July or maybe even August. The tentative plan is to have this be the last of the mail-order dolls for now, cuz I’m sick of having to fight to get them. Besides, if God could spare me from being a state volunteer, I really want to learn to make my own dolls. I’ll probably still have to fight with the PO, though, ordering parts. Then again, maybe not. Maybe we’ll pick things up from a supplier in Phoenix or maybe even Casa Grande.

I kind of hope the dolls are out of stock so that the PO doesn’t just toss them on a shelf and leave them there till we ask for them. What lazy people they are! It’s so much easier to just toss a box on a shelf and say they tried to deliver it than to just give it to the damn person.

Tom said he’d put this class bullshit out of my mind until and if something happens with it, but that is so much easier said than done! the cheeks told me not to worry about it, too. Yeah, that’s what Paul said - don’t worry. I’m sick of these blacks affecting half the things I do, and when they’re not, I’m worrying that they will! It never fucking ends! When we lived together, they’d be pissing me off with their music, and when they weren’t, I’d be stressing over knowing they could start up again any sec. Now, they turn my life upside down by costing me my freedom and thousands of dollars, and when they’re not, I worry that they will. They’re either directly/indirectly wreaking havoc on my life, or I’m worrying that they’re going to do something more, knowing it’s just a matter of time. I feel like I’m never going to be free of these sick fucks!

Always with me, always with them.

Also, this state’s not gonna give without taking. Meaning, if they decide to give me a break with the classes, they’ll just do something else, like push the work issue, demand more money, or that I go to Casa Grande to piss in front of someone since I haven’t in a year.

I’d like to think that Scot’s word would have a lot of leverage in my favor (by his saying he doesn’t think classes are necessary and showing them my diplomas), being that he’s one of their own, in a sense. After all, they’d never second-guess him if he said he found drugs or guns in here or made up some other bullshit story to get at me if he wanted to be that corrupt, but I think it’s more important to them to control me than to listen to him. Well, I sure as hell hope I find out, either way, this Friday. I want this done and over with, so I can move on to worry about some other freeloader-related bullshit. Either that or so I can be free to deal with whatever appliance decides to break next if it isn’t the car.

Although Scot hasn’t stepped out of line yet and I doubt that he will, I’m still on guard. I’ll forever be paranoid and wary of those in law enforcement, after all, I’ve been through, and I could kick myself for even thinking of getting together with Teddy Bear. How stupid could I have been, despite how good-looking she was?! In more ways than one, for a variety of potential reasons, I’m glad she blew me off. I mean, all Scot has to do is say I slugged him, say he heard me plotting to kill the freeloaders - anything - and there wouldn’t be a damn thing I could do to prove otherwise. Not a damn thing. He’d pay for it eventually, but not without taking me down with him first.

Thursday, June 6, 2002

Mary’s being a pest again. No, not with requests to print her journal excerpts out, but with another postage-due letter. It’s only 12 cents, but it puts Tom out. Besides, how many more times do I have to tell her this?! I mean, are we dumb here, or do we just not get it?

She also wants Tom, since I bullshitted her by saying I tried to visit and was turned away for being on probation, to come down and withdraw $80 from her account to send to her boyfriend Todd in Utah for his birthday. I’m simply going to tell her that I don’t want anyone with my last name at that jail. I can’t take any chances at stirring things up and we don’t know of anyone else willing and trustworthy of doing this. Unless the probation department’s going to come out and demand I do something I can’t/won’t do like stand on my pinky finger all day or divorce Tom, I don’t ever intend to return to Estrella Jail to freeze my ass off while I live on hotdogs and cold showers! And I know damn good and well that God would never allow me the blessing of being able to reside with the same compatible celly month after month after month. I’ll be damned if I’ll go back there and play musical cellies; some of them ok, some crazy, and some rude, loud and obnoxious.

Damn, even at home I gotta put up with inmates’ requests! If she keeps this up, I’m gonna feel used and I’m gonna ignore her just like the bear ignored me.

I also told her that Tom needs to sleep during the daytime whenever possible, but that I could make him a birthday card with my card-making program if she wants.

She feels really helpless being locked up and all, and as I told her, I understand and I do empathize and sympathize with her! I wasn’t locked up during Tom’s birthday, but I was during Christmas.

She’s really got me worried once again that someone may be interfering with my mail to her. Maybe some of my unanswered questions are in the letter that he plans on picking up tomorrow, but she never told me if she got her book excerpts or the pictures I sent. Didn’t she get that stuff? And what about the letter where I mentioned getting paints and a kiln and getting into doll-making? And how about the jail story that I’ve begun sending bit by bit with changed names? It really shocked me when she said she hoped my Teddy Bear story was going along well. The “story” was simply a quick clip that was barely a page long, and that I sent her. Didn’t she get it?

Well, I decided to start saving and numbering my letters to her, letting her know to tell me if she’s ever missing a number. This will hopefully tell me, cuz I really need to know if someone is meddling with my mail so I can then figure out who it is and take the proper means to stop them. Mail tampering is a hell of a felony for real!

As for Teddy Bear, yes, it’s always possible that she didn’t get the letter and assumed I’d forgotten about her as Mary suggested, but I still believe that if she truly cared enough, she’d have called to find out what was going on for sure. If I were her and I didn’t get the letter and I truly cared, I’d say to myself, I changed workplaces, so maybe that’s why the letter didn’t make it to me. Rather than assume she’s blowing me off, I’ll at least call like she told me to in the first place if her letter didn’t make it to me. The worst that could happen is that we don’t see each other. And if I were her and I did get the letter but changed my mind for whatever reason, I’d at least have the decency to call and say something like, “Thanks for the letter and thanks for taking the time to breed the mice, but no thanks. I just wanted to tell you so you wouldn’t be left hanging and wondering what happened. Good luck in life and take care of yourself.”

Like it or not, she’s a phony. I was just a game to her. Just something to pass the time with. She lied to me by saying one thing and doing another. I know we’re not meant to ever see each other again and there’s no use in kidding myself about that. I have to move on and “bumping into her” at work like she suggested would be a bad idea. First of all, I wouldn’t want to see someone who no doubt doesn’t want to see me, and secondly, that would be stalking, and I don’t care to live up to the label I’ve got on me. Her suggestions and support are appreciated, though. Also, she said she hasn’t been able to find out anything on her cuz there are so many new DOs.

I used to complain about criminals/inmates having all the rights. Well, not here in Arizona they don’t! The rights all go to the victims, some of which are real and some of which aren’t, of course. Actually, the rights go to the “minorities.”

I’m totally stressing over tomorrow. I try to tell myself, to relax. It’s just God wanting you to worry. You know he loves to hang you with these freeloaders, so just chill out. Also, he loves to see you worry about one thing after another for no reason at all.

But what if there is a reason to worry this time around? I still can’t know for sure that they’re not gonna make any more unreasonable or impossible requests as I vibed in jail, but like I said a long time ago, I can’t do what I can’t do, and I won’t allow myself to be abused by the system any more than I already have. If he comes out and says these classes are going to be frequent and or costly, I’m gone. I don’t know where I’ll go, but I’ll figure it out. They may not leave me much of a choice. Just like with the freeloaders, one can only be pushed so far. If they push me to put my foot down, then maybe they’ll think next time if they want to make a buck off of someone that bad. They won’t just be losing control over me if they force me to run, they’ll be losing my $40 a month, too.

I’ll bet if one studied the stats, they’d find that the number of criminals, real or imagined, doesn’t fluctuate much out here. Gotta keep things steady to keep business moving. The state uses whatever sources it can to make money. They depend on criminals just as much as the taxpayers. As Gina said at the recycling center, as soon as one leaves, another one comes in.

It’ll be interesting to see how the doll company handles us sending the second doll back. I wonder if they’ll give us back our money, thinking the doll we sent back was the only one we ever got, but I doubt it.

It’s been 20 days since we ordered Joy. I hope she comes in soon! The sooner I get her, the sooner we can find out about the classes if God will let me work for me for a change and not for the state. If they won’t drop this class thing, then I’ll really take that as a sign reminding me that my life doesn’t belong to me! At that point, I won’t bother with classes, if my purpose in life must be to serve others. If God wants me to be a state servant that bad, then that’s just what he may get! I mean, wouldn’t he just love me if I volunteered at the recycling center, which I’d hate, of course.

I was surprised when I saw that I awoke at 124 pounds. I may’ve quit trying to lose weight, but I haven’t gone crazy, either. Then, I turned around and shit 3 times over the next few hours, losing two pounds. So, I guess I was just bogged down in shit.

Friday, June 7, 2002

Well, today’s the day. I should find out today what’s going on with the class shit. Tom says taking adult education classes is no big deal, and that the most it could be - and this is extreme - would be a few times a week since they know people have to work, but it’s a big deal to me. He can play this down all he wants, but it’s a big deal to me, ok? Even if it was a free 5-minute class, it’s a big deal as long as it’s connected to the freeloaders. freeloader-induced activities are a big deal, and it’ll also be a big deal if I have to be put out yet again all cuz of someone’s spite and misconception.

How is it that so many people have had such control over my life? Meanwhile, I couldn’t control another human being like this even if I wanted to, though I don’t want to. I just want to be left alone. But if I misunderstand someone, I just misunderstand them. No harm done to anyone. But with me, it could turn my life upside down if someone misunderstands me.

Why must I be the one to have to pay for people’s stupidity?! I always used to think it best to play down all I knew so I could surprise someone if I needed to use what I knew against them, but now I realize just how important it is to appear alert, receptive and like you know what’s going on, even if you really don’t.

I’m also sick of Tom making me feel worse when I bitch about this shit, too. He’s done nothing but play the situation down and make me feel, in a sense, like I’m a fool to get upset over it or to worry about what else these freeloaders may do.

When I told him I wanted to get rid of the baby males, he got all upset over the money spent on the new cage cuz we had plans to breed. He always gives me a hard time when I want to get rid of animals, but anyway, I told him I would’ve wanted that cage anyway. It’s a much better cage. Besides, we did try to breed Little Buddy and it didn’t work, not that I can complain since Lady was so spastic. The point is, he bitches about money spent on a cage that I love and wanted either way, but the black bitch fee? Hell, that’s just another bill. No big deal. As soon as I bitch about the freeloaders or the state, he’s quick to either defend them or play the situation down and I’m fed up with it. I really am. So, if I get told what I don’t want to hear today, I’m just going to grin and bear it till I can get home and unleash my anger and frustration in this journal.

I wish to hell I could brainwash myself into believing this is all my fault and that I deserve the sentence I got! But even if I were guilty as hell, no one deserves to be thrown in jail for something they wrote, nor should they be left on probation afterward for this long and lose so much money over it. There’s no way, guilty or not, I could ever consider myself a criminal, let alone a stalker. I never “stalked” these sick fucks, nor did I do anything else other than express myself. The only thing I did wrong was that I did resort to words and not actions. And those words were sent to a hateful, prejudiced, emotional wimp who couldn’t handle what I had to say, and she used/abused her connections against me. No one out here deals with people head-on. They cower behind the corrupt law.

God definitely decided I should be born a follower and not a leader. But I don’t want to be either! I just want to be myself. I don’t tell others what to do with their lives and I’m sick of people telling me what to do with mine! It’s not right. It’s just not right and it’s not fair.

It’s still utterly appalling to think that a perfect stranger (Judge H) could sit in judgment of me as he did, and have such a huge impact on me, my life, and Tom’s life as well.

You know what else? I thought about it and said, fuck it! I’m decrypting all my journals. If any pig were to steal them, though I’ll be damned if I’ll submit to “search and seizure” if I can help it, they should read all I have to say about them as well as other shit I’ve written. Let them read it all! I want them to. If they want to take the time and go to all the trouble, they should at least get their reading pleasure out of all this now, shouldn’t they?

It almost makes me laugh when I think of all the legwork the pig and the state have gone through to get at me. And all for a letter. When you think of all the paperwork, the time, etc., it’s just so asinine that it’s almost comical. The state’s probably spent more on paper and ink than we have in the last 8 years just to give the media and whoever else copies of the journals. When I found out on sentencing day that the pre-sentencing guy had written down everything I had said over the phone word for word, I was like, “Oh, my God! All that work? All that time and energy into copying down every single little thing I said when all he had to do was write down the highlights which would’ve been plenty enough to get my point across (not that anyone gave a damn).”

Of course, I’m sure he had to throw in a few words of his own along the way and twist some of mine, too.

“Justice.” Why was the word ever invented? There’s no such thing. Not by people, not by God. The only things there are are competition, spite, control, power, vindictiveness, greed and revenge. It’s all a game in the eyes of all the players but the real victims.

Paula’s so lucky and she doesn’t even know it. Yeah, she called last night. For slugging a pig, she gets a 1-year suspended sentence. All she has to do is report once a month and stay out of trouble so she doesn’t go to jail for 90 days. No one will be coming to her house and she doesn’t have to pay a dime. The $270 fine was waived cuz she’s poor. If she’d have slugged a pig out here, she’d be looking at a huge sentence. She’d probably do 3-10 in prison, then years and years of probation afterward. Having Section 8 and Justin may help her a bit, but not too much.

She gave me her email address. I’ll email her later.

The bulk of the conversation was about what most of our chats are about - her being furious with the Puerto Rican she’s seeing that she thinks is cheating on her.

When she told me she sent two letters over the last couple of months (and I believe her), this really raised a red flag as far as my suspicions about the mail tampering go. My mounting suspicions really worry me. You’ve got Mary, who seems to be missing letters from me. Pérez, who seems not to have gotten my letter, and Paula, who can’t seem to get mail to me to save her life. Some of it is probably made up just to get me to keep on writing her, but she wouldn’t have not written for this long. Something’s going on. But who is it and why are they doing this? I know the PO’s incompetent, but this is a little overkill, and I really wonder yet again if Teddy Bear ever got my letter, though she still could’ve called.

Once again I must ask myself, am I being paranoid, or is someone out to get me? The only one that could be doing this is the pigs and maybe even Scot, too. Maybe they’re looking to see who I correspond with so they can hope to get me thrown back in jail. But if that’s the case, what’s taking so long? How many more letters to and from Mary and Paula do they need? Are they just taking a letter here and a letter there while hoping to find something going to the freeloaders? Is that it? Or could the PO really be that fucked up while Paula tells me nothing but bullshit lies?

Then there’s another possibility. One worse than any meddling pigs. Could Tom be withholding any mail from me? And if so, why? I certainly can’t imagine why he’d do that and it seems highly unlikely, but I know that anything’s possible. I mean, why would he not give me mail from Paula? And if Teddy Bear or Pérez did write, why would he not give me their mail? Would he be that jealous? I doubt it. If it isn’t a case of lies and incompetence, then someone’s looking to get my ass.

Later…

Un-fucking-believable! Scot never even mentioned the class thing. Not a word either way. I was really surprised. Of course he had to comment on how much time I had left. I asked Tom, “Is he really that forgetful, or is he just looking to see if I am?”

“He’s just making small talk. There’s only so much to talk about,” he said.

How about how hot it’s been? Anything else for a change.

Yeah, I know. I sound just like Dureen.

Anyway, I’d rather hear nothing than hear I have to take classes, but it would’ve been even better if I could’ve been told I don’t have to take them so I could be done with it. Instead, I still have it hanging over my head. I think these freeloaders and the shit they cause will always be hanging over my head!

He seemed like he was in a bad mood. Not by anything he said, but it was just something I sensed, aside from his usual cold, impersonal self. This guy needs to loosen up! Then again, as long as he doesn’t fuck me over, he can be Mr. Serious of the Year for all I care.

I told him about the doll-making plans we have. At first he said absolutely nothing. Then he asked how much dolls usually cost and when I plan to get into it.

The letter with the postage due from Mary shed a lot of light on this mail mystery. There is no mystery after all. She did get my letters and the bear probably did, too. That leaves only Paula. Paula, who happens to call right after I said I wouldn’t write till I heard from her. How convenient.

Yeah, I’m now convinced she isn’t writing. If someone was meddling with the mail, why would hers be the only letters they took?

Mary did put extra postage on after all, but the cheap bastards at the PO still wanted their 12 precious cents.

Another favor too, she wanted. She sent pages she tore out from an astrology book and asked me to type them for her. Instead, I just scanned them.

She really likes the idea of my getting into doll-making. She wants a doll with fuchsia hair and purple eyes someday. Yeah, I know she likes those colors.

The few DOs who knew Teddy Bear say they haven’t heard anything about her since she left. Mary still thinks she didn’t deliberately hurt me. I’d like to think that too, but it seems rather obvious that I was blown off by her, whether or not she got my letter and I think she did. The more I think about it, the more I’m pretty sure that the only one playing games with the mail is Paula. I don’t need to number my letters to Mary.

Mary agrees that writing is very therapeutic, and she too, is good at writing sex scenes. I included one for her that I always had when I was alone in 3. One where the bear would lick my pussy or we’d kiss while I’d massage her achy shoulders when she’d stop by on walks.

Saturday, June 8, 2002

It makes keeping a schedule really hard when you need so much damn sleep! I couldn’t drag my ass out of bed till 9:30, an hour later than I’d have liked. Watch, I’ll be tired all day. Then come early evening, I’ll wake right up. Maybe I’ll take Benadryl at 9:30, so I can have my damn 12 hours of sleep. I believe I only got 10 this time around.

I ask myself, what if I could choose between staying right here with the freeloaders very much a part of our lives, or going back to Massachusetts and living in the same nice house, also on 10 acres, with no freeloaders involved? Would I return to Massachusetts? You know, I think I would. After all, the only real thing I hated about New England, besides its weather, was the fact that things tended to be a little too old and a little too expensive. Things are different now, too. I wouldn’t have to be out playing bus in the cold, snow and humidity. It would be very hard for us to afford a house there, though. Very few houses there are under $100,000.

Later…

At 1:00, our power went out. We figured it’d be back on in a few, but by 3:00, it was near 90 in here. Tom put batteries in his old radio and learned that the power was out in Maricopa and Stanfield, which they were calling Stanford.

So we went to Walgreens in Casa Grande and I picked up a few neat things. Glittery hair ties in various colors, very berry lip gloss, two sports bras, Sunflowers cologne, and some nail polish I shouldn’t have bothered with. It’s supposed to be light pink in warmth, blue in cold, and green/gold in UV rays, but it’s not that impressive. It feels rubbery, too. It has no shine and is barely visible even with 3 coats cuz it’s so light. That chrome nail polish is definitely the best.

Anyway, I put some of the glitter ties in a few of the doll’s hair, but on Jade, they’re bracelets. She has 3 on each wrist. With Mei Lin, I put 6 different colored ties down the length of each of her two ponytails. It totally goes with her outfit. I used a white one to tie Chris’s ponytail with, a pink/gold one as Falling Star’s headband, a gold one around Emerald’s ankle to go with the gold accents in her green dress, a pink one around Bailey’s ankle, a silver one around the skating Barbie’s waist, one as a tube top for another Barbie, and to tie off two of the Indian doll’s two braids with, I used pink, purple, blue and black. I’m sure I’ll decorate future dolls with them as well as my own hair.

Sunday, June 9, 2002

I have thought of Teddy Bear every day for nearly a year and a half now, and I have to wonder, will there ever come a day when I don’t think of her? I doubt it. I just wish I knew what happened! I’m only 95% sure she got the letter and blew me off for either someone else or cuz I’m married, not 100%.

Damn you girl, get back to Estrella so Mary can at least question you!

But I know this will never happen, and if it does, Mary will be gone by then.

In less than an hour, I’ll have been here a decade. That’s something I have mixed emotions about. I still like Arizona, but over the years I’ve found more and more things not to like about it.

Despite its hardships, how different my life is now than when I stepped off that plane 10 years ago! I was 25 pounds lighter with barely a gray hair or two. My only friend was a pothead, and I had no furniture or place to live. Then God nearly starved me to death!

How dumb and naïve I was to have gotten involved with anyone I met at the pool or anywhere else around there. I can’t be held responsible for people’s actions like Andi’s, Rosemarie’s, Donna’s, Robert’s, Mark’s or Ellie’s, but you know what? If I had ignored them, none of my problems with them would’ve happened.

Well, sort of. I have to take that back when referring to Andi. With just a thin little wall between us, it was rather impossible to ignore her shit, just like with the freeloaders. Sometimes we’re just too close to our enemies to be allowed the privilege of ignoring them.

Tuesday, June 11, 2002

I couldn’t get up at 8:00 like I wanted to. I had to sleep till 10:00 instead. Since I had 10 hours of sleep today, maybe I can get by with just 8 tomorrow. If I could only fall asleep earlier! And if I only didn’t need so much fucking sleep! I thought we were supposed to need less sleep when we got older. I guess that really means old kind of older.

After calling two places yesterday that wouldn’t take the rats, we dumped the male babies before leaving for the new mall in Chandler.

At the mall, we looked for a place that sold that hair-streaking stuff, but never found a place that did. We went into the As Seen on TV store and got this shower massager with a rotating brush that I’ve been wanting. It really scrapes away dead, flaky skin.

We ate in their food court, before heading to a strip mall where they had the hair stuff.

Tom did my hair for me, since it’s so long, and it was a bust. I should’ve known better, too. Especially since it said it was better on lighter hair. My hair was too dark for it, so you can’t even tell anything was done to it. I’ll have to get a color, especially for darker hair, or I’ll just dye it all dark brown. I’m still not sure when I’ll cut it.

One thing’s for sure and that’s that Scot couldn’t have come to the house yesterday. Not with God knowing I wasn’t home to have to deal with him.

As unfair as it is, it’s good that I’m home and answer the door as quickly as I can when he does come around. I wouldn’t want too many absences to get him all paranoid and think we’ve got something to hide in here when we don’t, thus making trouble for us, then ultimately for himself and anyone else dumb enough to get involved. I will file the biggest harassment lawsuit, plus whatever else I can think of along the way if he even thinks of tossing this house. Then they can say I hate whites too, and act like these poor, poor victims.

As I said before, this isn’t a county jail cell. This is my home. And the state and its drones aren’t about to play mommy and daddy with me on the home front if they know what’s good for them!

I have to back down a good 5 pounds or so. I’m not looking to get skinny, but 125 pounds is a bit uncomfortable for me. It gets a bit hard to get around. I’ve been slacking off on any kind of aerobic activity, and it goes to prove once again that it really does help. It won’t make you skinny like dieting can, but it’ll help keep your weight from going up. So, I’ll row or walk and put myself on a low-cal diet for a few days. It’s no big deal. Not like it would be if I tried to tell myself I was going to get down to 100-110. Even getting down to 115 would be quite a battle. I know I’d look better and that my clothes would fit better, but it’s not worth the slavery it’d take to get down there. Also, the lower my weight is, the harder it is to maintain it.

We saw an exercise bike in Sears, which was amazingly comfortable and quiet! The seats sure have changed. They’re not like the seats of regular bikes anymore. They have seats wide enough for even the fattest of asses, and a nice comfortable back, too. The one we saw, which was one of their smallest, was for $180. We both agree we want to get it at some point and put it in the den (I already made room for it). That way, I can row to at least one half-hour show a day and it won’t be so boring.

Meanwhile, the walker is a bit too strenuous and the rower makes these clanky sounds, making it hard to hear a TV or anything like that, so I just row to music.

Also, I had stopped doing ab crunches to see if the zapper alone would be sufficient enough, but it’s not. The two of them combined work best, so I’ll start crunching again.

Later…

It’s possible that someone may’ve bought the land across the street cuz I saw some cock in a red pickup get out and look for property markers the other day, and today, a county car was sitting in the road for a while. This could mean that they’re going to grade the road for bringing a house in and to deter people from driving on the property.

Whenever a house gets over there, I’ll have mixed emotions about it. It’ll do us good money-wise, but we’ll lose even more privacy. Knowing they’ll just have to sit at the front of their house, and I’m sure the house will be closer to the road, we’ll have to see them and their dogs, which may be a bit audible, depending on just how close to the road they settle. We’re 150’ from the road, so if they end up 150’ from the road too, which seems logical, that’s 300’ which would be closer than next door is at about 400’. Not a thrilling idea, but anything’s better than having blacks and Hispanics 3’ away.

Wednesday, June 12, 2002

I’m hungry but down a pound.

Got a letter from Mary today. This time around her request was to print and send her any articles about Monster’s being crazy. Despite the nature of the crime, all I could find was one little paragraph outlining the highlights of the case. I sent it to her.

She said something about making hair locks out of her shedded hair and asked if I wanted her to send me one. I’m not sure I know what she means by making hairlocks, but sure, send me what you want, I told her.

Teddy Bear’s a hopeless, lost cause in my life that’s now a closed chapter, but I thanked her for asking around.

Oh, and I wouldn’t necessarily believe everything you read in the Bible, I told her, pertaining to how she quoted the Bible’s saying “The truth will set you free.”

The truth will set you free? Yeah, right! I suppose that’s why I was there. It just doesn’t always work that way. At least, not for me it hasn’t.

She says now the captain says she can’t release any of her money. What happened to their release of property thing? As I agreed with her, it is unfair that she can’t release her own money. Just one more stupid, arbitrary rule to control people with, huh? I guess it works out for the better, though, since Tom couldn’t get the money anyway.

Then what she had to say next got me pissed. It’s about Hope, who’s been a regular little user and has turned against Mary for finally putting her foot down. I told her I didn’t care if she showed Hope what I had to say about her.

She said she’s been taking care of Hope financially all these months and that she worries about telling Todd and her uncle, who’s dying of cancer, cuz she doesn’t want them all pissed off and worried.

I was shocked that she could let someone use her like that, but more so I was downright pissed. Damn that little greedy, rude, selfish, spoiled, immature, vindictive wimpy bitch! And her family too, for telling Hope over the phone that Mary should share her stuff with her. And just why should she? Since when is Hope K her daughter and her responsibility? To what does she owe her the honor of being her slave? It’s a good thing I’m not there! And I don’t care if the little fuck reads my opinion of her, but God help her if she gets my address and writes me cuz that’ll be an immediate page 2 for her if she does. Yes, I’ll be running to the piggies myself and I’ll be filing charges quicker than my electric nail filer can file my nails if I hear from her.

I told her she doesn’t have to worry about telling Todd or her uncle. All she has to do is stop giving to her. If she can’t handle it, tough shit! That’s her problem.

Yeah, I figured she was either a pervert or a child beater. She broke her kid’s ribs, she told me. Lovely, huh? I could kick myself for feeling bad for her when the emotional wimp cried hysterically on the phone that day in April, then passed out (probably faked it), then was maxed and sent to A Tower. (yeah, I could kick myself for a lot of things)

She really pissed me off that time I was fighting with Teresa and Laticia, who were just as rude, childish and as selfish as she is. It was none of her business, the beef was between me and them, yet she just had to go and stick her nose in it anyway. She needs to learn to mind her own fucking business! She’s never gonna survive in prison. I’d bet my favorite doll that she doesn’t get out alive. She’s gonna fuck with the wrong person there. I know it. I just know it, and I told her so.

Oh, and to run and call Mommy over it is so incredibly childish. That’s like some little kid running and crying out, “Mommy, mommy, she won’t let me play with her dolly!” Oh, boo-hoo. Poor, poor thing! That was just as childish as when she ripped up the note I had for Teresa. The mature, adult thing to do would’ve been to just ignore me. Then she had the nerve to write, “You wouldn’t be saying these things if there weren’t doors and walls between us.”

Oh, yes I would, I thought to myself. Who does she think she’s kidding if she’s implying I’d be afraid to speak my mind to her and her little friends to their faces?

Believe me, back then, I wished there weren’t doors and walls between us, and I’d love to be back there for just two minutes, but I couldn’t write all about the things I’d like to do to her in my letter. As we learned, there’s no such thing as “freedom of speech.”

Hope’s a hypocrite, too. She also wrote in that kite to me that I was bossing the pod around, which as Mary knows from being there, was pure bullshit. Meanwhile, she’s sitting there telling people to do this and do that.

People like her really make my blood boil! Who the hell is she to think she’s owed anything from anyone after all she’s done and the way she treats people? She has no conscience or empathy for others. All she cares about is herself. Just wait till she gets to prison. They’ll set her straight there. She won’t be a little beggar there. Or a big-mouthed, back-stabbing hypocrite.

I feel so bad for that kid of hers. Imagine being that kid, and one day you’re asked where your mother is and all you can say is, “Oh, my mommy broke my ribs so she’s in prison till she gets a taste of her own medicine.”

I have no sympathy for this sick twist simply because she admitted to what she did, according to Mary. Doesn’t make her any less guilty. She’s still a subhuman piece of shit I’d spit on then step on as if she were merely a cockroach or yesterday’s trash.

Well, she can just remind her that she came to Estrella as a witness, not to be her servant. She doesn’t owe her shit, so whether she’s being a spiteful little greedy, spoiled bitch or a major sweetheart, she shouldn’t let herself be used. She’ll never get a dime of that money back.

Hopefully, she’ll either shut up, mind her own damn business, fend for herself and leave Mary alone, or one of them can be moved. Hope should be the one to move if it comes to it cuz she’s the one causing trouble.

Why can’t I run into people like Nancy K, Teresa B and Hope K on the streets where I have nothing to lose? Then again, you know God never lets me get away with anything. As soon as they got out of the hospital, they’d either come torch our house, or I’d go to jail. Even worse, they might do something to Tom.

Thursday, June 13, 2002

Just got done changing both the mice and rat cages.

I’m down two more pounds, so I’m 122.

Got up an hour and a half later than planned, at 9:30. So I got 9½ hours of sleep, although I could’ve used the usual 10-11.

I’m beginning to wonder if JBS fouled up our order. After all, it’s a doll for me, so why not? If we were ordering anything else, like a mural, then there’d be no problem. They were pretty speedy with Jade’s kit, though, so we’ll see. The deadline is Tom’s birthday.

I had a series of weird dreams, but the only one I remember is a bad one pertaining to Paula. I was at her apartment when two cops came to arrest her. The male pig told her she was in the biggest amount of trouble she’d ever been in as he cuffed her, then led her to a cruiser with a scrawny blond female cop following with her gun drawn. I asked the male pig if he needed me to stick around and he told me he didn’t.

So where are you, Scot? You like to visit me on the 13th (3 X’s on the 13th). Maybe he’ll skip June altogether or come next week right before I see him. He also likes to see me before I see him.

Of course, I still have this class bullshit hanging over my head, since he didn’t say they were omitting it. Even if they did, they’d just pick on me with something else. Watch, with my shit luck, they’ll try to extend my probation, saying I didn’t do it so it still needs to be done. Well, I can guarantee them one thing for sure and that’s that that’ll never happen. Come October 30th of 2003, if I ever hear from any law enforcement person(s) ever again pertaining to this sick black bitch, I’ll sue the shit out of this state so damn fast, Maricopa County will be left in a daze for decades.

Why the fuck do they even have such a thing as “freedom of speech” if we can’t exercise this so-called right in the first place? Well, I’m sorry, Arizona, but I have a right to say what I want to and to dislike any person or group of persons I want to, goddamnit! When I lay a hand on someone and it isn’t in self-defense, then they can bitch about it.

Friday, June 14, 2002

Another pound down. I’m taking a break today, which should cause me to gain two pounds back, but I’ll be dieting again over the weekend. Then Monday we’ll be going out to eat, so I won’t resume dieting yet again, if I decide to continue with it, that is, till Tuesday.

I was browsing through the more humorous wallpapers last night when I came across one that would’ve been perfect for the freeloaders. It showed a hand holding a gun and said: Warning! I don’t dial 911. When I commented to Tom about it, instead of having any kind of a sense of humor about it, he said, “Yeah, that’s how all this trouble got started.”

When I asked what he meant, he said, “If you hadn’t thought that way in the first place, all this trouble wouldn’t have happened.”

Yeah, I know. It’s all my fault. Everything’s always my fault. Of course, it’s just as easy for me to say that if he had let me handle the bitch my way to begin with, we wouldn’t be in this mess. Nor would we if he’d listened to me when I told him something was very wrong with Paul, paid off Sharon, and stayed away from the courthouse.

I know Tom blames me way more than he blames them, besides the fact that it’s in Tom’s nature to blame me when I’m mad at or having a problem with someone. I don’t think it’s right and I believe he should stand by his wife, but this is just the way he’s always been. If I start bitching about Jane Doe or Joe Shmoe, he’ll start bitching at me for bitching at them, implying either directly or indirectly that I have no grounds to be pissed at them, and perhaps I asked for trouble somehow.

Believe me, I know it’s my fault even though it isn’t. Meaning, I’m not responsible for the freeloader’s actions. I didn’t make them harass us the way they did, nor did I do anything to them to deserve it, other than to ask them to lower their music. If that’s provocation in the freeloader’s eyes, then that just goes to prove how warped they truly are, though they picked on us before we asked them to quiet down and would’ve done so if we never said a word to them as well. They were in their own little world, oblivious to those around them unless they were putting thought into badgering me, like by chaining the dog to the jeep in the carport, so it could be as close as possible to our house.

I kick and blame myself all the time for how I handled the freeloaders, the pigs, Paul - the whole damn thing. However, nothing I did/said/wrote warrants being locked up and placed on probation. I didn’t ask for the shit these freeloaders gave me. I never deserved the shit they gave me directly in Phoenix, and I never deserved the shit they’ve given me through the Jew-hating pig and our minority-pampering system after leaving Phoenix, either. Regardless of guilt or innocence, anyone can say/write that they’re gonna kill someone. Anyone can. 95% of the time it’s just talk. Meanwhile, if we were to lock up everybody who made a threat at one point or another during their lives, 95% of the population would be locked up.

Although I wanted to rip the shit out of Nancy, and although I knew I couldn’t stand to be her celly one moment longer, I knew she was full of it when she threatened me. She knew I’d have Chavez pull me and that’s exactly what she wanted at first so she could be alone till she got bored being all by herself.

I’m not saying no one acts on their threats, but 9 out of 10 times, those who are serious act if they’re going to act, they don’t make threats. Most threats are either said in moments of anger or simply meant to intimidate people or to get them off their backs.

Nothing bothers me more than when Tom said, “I just want to see that she gets help” at the sentencing. I mean, what kind of a defense is that? Doesn’t he realize how guilty that made me seem? He even had Paula believing I picked on the cunt for no good reason at all and told her I’d probably do it again.

Yes, he’s stuck by me through all this shit, but just how much is he really on my side?

The wallpaper site I’ve been into lately, lets you send their pictures as e-cards, the equivalent of postcards. I’ve sent pink flowers to Tom for our anniversary tomorrow, and then a couple of rabbits on a skateboard for his birthday.

It’s been 28 days since we ordered Joy. Something’s wrong. How the fuck am I gonna be a dollmaker if I’m always going to have to chase down the dolls?! I’m sure God will have me fighting for greenware just as much as he does assembled dolls. Still, we’re ordering those dolls from Paradise Galleries tomorrow. I’ll make sure he hangs onto the order number so that we can have them put a trace on whatever dolls I don’t get in 30 days from tomorrow.

In other news, I made the comment to Tom that I’d probably never have sex again in my life, meaning that no one seems to be serious when they claim to be attracted to me and want me.

Then he said, “I know, you told me.”

I was like, “No I didn’t. What do you mean, I told you?”

Then he goes on to say that I told him I wouldn’t do it with him, and I’m like - what I crock! I never said that. What I said was that I could live without it, since it was nothing new and exciting. Besides, he’s a bore in bed. I didn’t need to tell him this, though. But it’s nothing personal against him. These days nothing could turn me on but a woman I was attracted to going down on me and that’s never going to happen.

It’s all bullshit, though. Just bullshit. Why can’t he admit that we both have no interest in getting it on together? Like I said, if it isn’t gonna be the bear going down on me here and there, I’d rather be celibate. I can’t get it on with just any woman, so I guess this means God wants me to be faithful, even though he cursed the sex life we used to have, even if it was a joke of one. Despite the fact that I no longer desire sex or a kid, I still feel just as picked on by getting a man who only gets hard as I do blessed by him sending me someone with Tom’s personality.

I just don’t get God. It’s like he has a weak moment where he’s suddenly in this wonderful mood and he blesses me with something good, but most of the time he just wants to hurt me. He lives for seeing me hurt. How totally cruel of him, after allowing me to be thrown in jail when I never should’ve been there in the first place, to finally, after all these years, meet and fall in love with a woman I’m attracted to, who was attracted to me back, or so she said, only to put the joke on me in the end. I’m sure he was up there laughing his ass off every time I’d sit and think in excited anticipation of seeing her again on the outs.

Is he up there laughing down at me right now? Is he saying to himself, so, she thinks she’s gonna be a dollmaker, huh? Well, I guess I’ll just have to remind her who’s in charge of her life, and it ain’t her!

Later…

Earlier I had said to myself and to Tom, “It’s only dolls, so why would God stop me from making them?”

Just because he can. Foolish or not, I’m not giving up, though it doesn’t matter that it’s only dolls. It doesn’t matter if it’s something as farfetched as jumping to the moon, or as natural as having a baby. If it’s what I want, it’s probably out of the question. He can stop me by having people fuck up on me like they do when I try to get assembled dolls. He can stop me from selling any by simply making sure no one buys any. With God as my enemy and a force that’s a million times more powerful than anyone in this world, I don’t stand a chance if he stands against me.

I know God views, judges and treats us all differently. Some of us he hates, some of us he likes, some of us he loves. I think the only way he’d truly love me would be if I did everything I didn’t want to do. If I ate things I didn’t like, wore clothes I didn’t like, and did things I didn’t like. But whenever I can help it and get some say in the matter, it’s not going to happen.

I don’t have to sit and guess or wonder if he’d have the courts punish anyone who beat, raped or killed me. I know the answer to that. He wouldn’t just let them get away with it, he’d reward them with all kinds of wonderful things in life. If a person with an average life harmed me like that, all of a sudden they’d be winning the lottery, getting the job promotions, getting lucky in love and they’d have virtually no health problems. They would have the willpower to quit smoking or lose weight if they wanted to.

Saturday, June 15, 2002

Now that’s a writer who learned her lesson the hard way. The woman who founded American Atheists had a magazine in which she used to slander someone she fired. It got her shot and killed, so maybe this will make some people think first.

I know I could never be a writer. Not the kind that writes about people in papers and magazines. Too many sensitives out there. Besides, slandering people would be required of me. That’s what the media is all about - bashing people they don’t even know to entice the public. Well, to me, it wouldn’t be worth the risk of pissing off the wrong person and getting killed.

I’ve got to wonder, didn’t the person who decided they knew me well enough to write a whole big article on me consider this possibility? Do they ever consider it?

Tom will be home in an hour or two and then we’ll order the dolls and get the chase on. As for Joy - fuck it. I’m either there to get her or I’m not cuz I’m letting my schedule go in a day or two. If I’d known she was going to be this late, I wouldn’t have held my schedule back in the first place.

We may switch to AOL cuz they’re having a deal that could save us $100 over the next year. I also want a new screen name. From now on, I’m only Dawn to Mary, who’s Moon to me. That’s her nickname. I think I’ll be ratlady1204.

Tom explained to me what he meant when he said he just wanted to see that I got help at the sentencing hearing, but it makes no sense to me. He said that as a last-minute thing, he thought his reminding the judge about Helen and my willingness to see Helen might save me from jail time, but as soon as it was our turn to talk, I knew that the judge decided long before we even stepped in that courtroom to throw the book at me, so to speak. I don’t know how Tom thought that kissing up to the judge would suddenly change his mind. Even if the black bitch herself had come out and said, “You know, this really isn’t fair. After all, me and my associates are the ones that started this shit, and in a sense, we asked for anything we got from her. We harassed her and her husband, we lied, we exaggerated the truth, and besides, she doesn’t deserve punishment for anything she’s done anyway,” the judge still would’ve had it in for me. Once the people on the opposing side have made up their minds about you, that’s the way it stays, no matter what new evidence may be brought forth later on.

As I learned…No, honesty is not always the best policy. No, the truth does not always set us free. No, being cooperative (seeking Helen’s help) does not always help us. It all comes down to who has the power and the control, and what they want done.

I hope by now Mary’s learned a few lessons of her own; that sometimes you have to put your foot down, and to hell with it if people call you a bitch or stingy or confrontational.

Other than that, we’re just going to relax for our 8th anniversary and go out to a buffet on Monday.

I’m sure the cheeks will wake me up next week.

It’s only been an hour since I ate and I’m already starving. I want to wait two more hours, though. I’m spacing the 5 times I eat with 3-hour intervals. I had nearly 3000 calories yesterday, so I gained back one of the 4 pounds I lost. The plan is to diet over the weekend, then on Tuesday, I’ll decide whether or not I want to keep going with it. I doubt I will, though. I’ll probably just eat my way up to 125, then cut my calories till I get back down to 120. Then repeat the whole process.

Later…

Tom got in around noon, ate his lunch, then we ordered the dolls. We went to do it online but weren’t sure about ordering the dolls at the same time we ordered the membership. We felt it best to talk to someone so we could specify what coupons we wanted to use on what dolls. So, because Tom has a hard time understanding Chinese accents, I called and placed the order. Both Carmencita and Murganah will be $30 instead of $40 since we bought the $20 membership package which is good for a year. The Fairy of Cork will be the full price of $25. I don’t need to use the two free shipping coupons cuz I automatically get free shipping as it is for ordering over $99 worth of stuff. It totals $105 altogether. As Tom said, though, we can use the coupons on cheaper dolls.

I was surprised when she told me Murganah and the Fairy of Cork were out of stock. I really thought that if anyone was out of stock, it’d be Carmencita. So we’ll have to have them put a trace on Carmencita in a month, and Murganah and the Fairy of Cork will arrive late, but without any problems.

So, overall my life is good, even though the freeloaders are in it and Teddy Bear’s not.

Sunday, June 16, 2002

So, Scot, you gonna come wake me up this week? Well, you’re not coming tomorrow afternoon. That much I do know. That’s when we’ll be out. We decided to go to Red Lobster, then to a new bookstore to see what dollmaking books or magazines they may have.

I dreamt of Teddy Bear last night. I still hurt over her blowing me off. Not to the point where I’m shedding tears, but I wish I didn’t have to think of her every day. I’d ask God for help, but I know better. He wants me to think about her and hurt over her. My pain is his pleasure.

I ask myself “what if” questions a lot. Like, would I want to continue living if Tom died if I had all the money in the world? Definitely not, but if I did, would I seek out women? Definitely not. I would know better. Women were never meant to be unless they were settlements, or short-term if they weren’t. I was meant to be a man’s woman, but this doesn’t mean I’d go seeking out men, either. I would stay by myself.

Some people believe we meet the spirits of those we knew in life after we die, which is something I always dreaded since I don’t care to reunite with 99% of those I’ve known. However, the idea’s a bit more appealing if it’d reunite me with Teddy Bear so I could ask her what happened.

Maybe this is more my fault than hers. Maybe if I hadn’t been dumb enough to believe she was really attracted to me and wanted to get together with me, I wouldn’t be hurt like this.

I’m gonna be checking out a new series based on the 1984 movie The Dead Zone about a guy who wakes up from a 6-year coma with second sight.

I finally learned who made Bailey. The name Laura Palt was painted on the back of her neck, but that’s just the person who fired, painted and assembled her for sale such as I want to do. I was looking at a picture of a Donna Rupert doll named Bailey that was done up in an Indian slip. Although she had dark hair and eyes, I studied the picture and noted that the pouty expression was the same and so were the hands and the facial shape and features. She was also a 24”. I asked Tom his opinion and he agreed it was Bailey, too. I couldn’t tell if it was a sitting or standing doll, but that wouldn’t matter. Any legs could be assembled. Anyway, it’s nice to learn that your favorite doll was created by your favorite artist. I just may get her molds too, and give her a dark versioned twin sister.

Monday, June 17, 2002

Right on with the breakage bullshit. The AC crapped out on us today, though sometimes it was kind of working. Better that than our water or power.

Red Lobster was out of lobster so I settled on a broiled combo platter of shrimp scampi, scrod, scallops and crab cakes. It was rather overpriced for such skimpy portions, but filling enough when combined with the baked potato, the salad and the biscuits.

Tom got a cheeseburger with fries.

Some little kid screamed its lungs out for a while there, too. I don’t know why in the world parents bring their kids to restaurants before they’re at least 5 years old.

We looked online some more at kilns. We may be able to get a decent one for about $300, rather than $600-$800.

I still want that bike too, but I don’t know. He’d never use it and I know it wouldn’t make a damn bit of difference in my looks. I could exercise 8 hours a day, but as long as I’m not willing to continually cut my calories day after day after day, I’ll never be thin. It takes constant starvation, during and after you’ve arrived at your goal weight. Why lose weight I’ll only gain back? Even if I could snap my fingers and be 100-110, I’d only be back in the 120s in a few weeks.

I’ll never allow myself to eat just anytime I want to, though. I’d never stop gaining if I did.

After Red Lobster, we went to a bookstore in search of dollmaking stuff. We found a magazine called Doll Crafter and may subscribe to that and others. It also lists places that sell supplies in each state. Both Dolls, Bears & Surprises and JBS Dolls were listed.

I’m seriously beginning to think something’s wrong with Joy. Tom says he hopes there is so we can get a discount.

But how am I gonna make dolls if I’m so cursed with them?

Anyway, Tom got himself a computer book, then we hit Walgreens for hair dye. I was going to go dark brown but decided on ruby twilight once Tom pointed out how cool-looking the color was which I totally agreed upon. I didn’t do so good a job, though. Amazingly enough, one box was enough for all this hair, but I didn’t cover it too evenly. It still looks cool this way and more natural. The red is brighter and more vivid on my scalp than on the other parts, but it’s still a nice change. A nice dark, yet intense red. Nothing like Teddy Bear’s was.

Guess you wouldn’t find me so attractive now, would you, Teddy Bear?

Maybe she never really did in the first place.

Anyway, it was $4 and there was a 50¢ coupon enclosed for if I want to get more sometime. I printed out some pictures I took of it for Mary and Paula. Believe it or not, my face doesn’t look as big as I thought it would, but I’m no skinny-mini. You can see those hips of mine just fine. I’m pearing out and losing my hourglass shape. Where did these hips and tits come from, I wonder? They took nearly 30 years to show up.

So, Tom and I grabbed some drinks, and before we sweated on back home, Tom shocked the shit out of me by suggesting we both bleach our hair blond and then surprise Mom, Mary and Dave with it! Now that would be a sight to see. I never thought Tom would ever dye his hair. He looks good with the gray. You know how it is - gray hair makes a man distinguished-looking while it makes a woman look older. But I never thought he’d care to dye his hair. I always figured I’d look just as shitty as a blond as I did with it black, but we’ll see. If we end up hating it that much, we can always dye over it, but if I go blond, then I could streak colors in my hair. I’d probably use the violet in contrast to the blond in that case.

If Scot comes this week - let me guess - it’ll be Thursday. Yeah, that’s another popular day for him. It’s like he wants to get an idea if he’ll be seeing me the next day or not.

I’m only holding my schedule till Friday, whether or not Joy comes. If I can’t be there to get her, then I can’t. Meanwhile, Tom can ask the questions and Jade’s shoes can wait.

Tuesday, June 18, 2002

No Scot, no Joy. Tom thinks she’ll be in next week and I think something’s wrong. If she is, I won’t be able to get her with Tom cuz I’ll be on nights.

the cheeks will probably see me Thursday, if not, then who knows when? Maybe he’ll start coming around less now that I’m over the halfway marker. I wonder if he’ll come twice next January like he did last January, though common sense ought to tell him that if I’ve been dumb enough to be suckered into sticking this shit out this long, then there’s a damn good chance I’ll stick with it to the finish line. The finish line that I hope exists, I should say.

Something woke me up at 6:45 this morning, though I went back to sleep. I don’t know what it was. It was a thump of some kind. Actually, it sounded like a door closing somewhere, but Tom didn’t even get in till noon. I was too tired to get up and check it out.

I tell you, I’ve been woken up here more than in the Phoenix house. Sometimes I wonder if I shouldn’t go back to sleeping with the fan on high. As Tom said, though, here it’s easier to go back to sleep. Yeah, but still, why do I feel like I’m being punished for living in a house I’m not supposed to be living in?

And is it really a wise idea for me to delve into this dollmaking thing? If I really am cursed in that department, I’d have an awfully hard time trying to work in a business that already seems quite complicated enough. I don’t know, I still think it’s easier not to bother, as much as I want to. If I don’t bother to try, then I can’t be disappointed over failing, can I? And I still can’t imagine being able to suddenly do what I want with my time in that sort of way.

I should’ve applied the same rule to Teddy Bear, followed my head and not my heart, told myself she wasn’t meant to be and that I’d never see her on the outs anyway, so just forget it and don’t even bother with her.

I can’t believe how many dreams I’ve had pertaining to this woman! When that thump woke me up I had been dreaming of her. This time around we had a kid together somehow, and she was on a phone somewhere, telling someone I had the baby.

Wednesday, June 19, 2002

Yesterday, Jamie called from JBS while I was online, telling me to call her. I didn’t get the message until after the store closed. I called her when I got up at 10:00 today and she said she wanted to know whether or not to ship her to our PO Box or if we were going to come get her. I told her we’d come and get her. She’ll be in on Monday, she said, so we’ll either pick her up in the morning when they first open or the late afternoon.

Judging by what she said, we’re beginning to think Chari’s molds aren’t available and that she was mass-produced. Our timing really sucks, though, cuz Chari’s on sale now for $120. Then, as soon as she changes the tags, Chari will go back to the usual $209 and they’re gonna have a buy-one-get-one-free deal as long as the doll is of equal or lesser value. Damn! If we’d only waited a little while longer to order Joy.

Later…

I did some homework of my own and managed to find a site that sells Chari’s SFGW (soft-fired greenware) which is what we want to start with. But how would I find her black dress? If I can find her dress, then maybe I won’t get her from JBS, after all. Besides, we can’t come up with $120-$209 by Monday.

Thursday, June 20, 2002

No pre-reporting visit from the cheeks. I asked Tom if he thinks he’ll mention the classes tomorrow. He says no. Let’s hope he doesn’t! Like I said, one of these days I’m gonna surprise myself and do what I want in life. Not what others or fate tell me to do.

Got two letters from Mary. She wrote one last Saturday, then another on Sunday. Both were postmarked Monday the 17th, the day we were out (ain’t it funny how only Paula can’t seem to get mail to me?).

She agreed to take me up on my card-making offer, so as she requested, I chose a floral design (a bushel of roses on the front) and then printed what she wanted to say on the front cover, then on both the inside covers.

An address label company sent me several labels of various designs, so she’ll be seeing those. Paula will get a couple of them at some point, too.

You know, she really is by far the best pen pal I ever had. I thanked her so very much for writing as often as she does. She’s also making sure to answer my questions so I don’t go thinking she didn’t get the letter. I’m glad I have her for a friend and that I didn’t walk away like I considered doing.

She says she’s getting along better with Dope, as we call her, saying that at times she gets on Mary’s nerves for ignoring her, as she puts it. She’s standing firm against spending any more money on her. She didn’t show her what I wrote about her, so she doesn’t have to deal with her reaction. Yes, I know good and well that’s not something Dope could handle well. It’s ok, I told her, I was just venting on her behalf. Maybe she’ll want to give it to her in the future, like right before she leaves if she leaves first.

I’ll bet she must really wish we were cellies again now! No thanks, though. I’d rather be Tom’s celly here.

She said she was crushed to read that she abused her kids in the article I sent her from the net. I told her that I know she didn’t abuse her kids and so does she, and not to let the ways of the media get to her. It’s their job to make up lies and make people look bad. It should be illegal to slander people the way they do, but unfortunately, if you’re part of the media, you can say anything you want about anybody. They could’ve said I killed a dozen people and there wouldn’t have been anything I could’ve done about it. As Misery said, “The media’s never your friend.”

Nonetheless, I’m sorry the bullshit article upset her. I considered not sending it but then decided that since she did ask for whatever I could find, I’d send it, cuz she and I both know the truth. As an abused child myself, it’s all the easier for me to sense an abuser. They should’ve printed that she “pled guilty to neglect,” and not that she “pled guilty to abuse,” but see? That’s the media; always twisting things around.

As for this parole thing, I’m not sure what she’s talking about. She said something about being bummed out about them taking away 85% of the parole. I don’t understand that part of the law too well, nor can I even begin to guess how many years she’ll do, as I told her. I asked Tom if like me, and like most cases, if her plea bargaining was a mistake. He agrees with her, though, and says that if it’ll help put Monster in his place, then no it wasn’t. I told her that although I can’t say how many years she’ll get, be prepared and don’t be surprised if she gets many years of probation at some point. I reminded her that the system’s not about “justice” 99% of the time. It’s about power, control and money. The more people they can get and keep on probation, and for as long as possible, the more money they make. I asked Tom if he thought they’d have her on probation for life, and he says he doubts it cuz that’s usually for those convicted of sex crimes. It also depends on the state you’re in, too. I’m sure I don’t have to remind her of how different Arizona is compared to Massachusetts, though I did fill her in on Paula’s latest case.

Another thing I’ve learned, and which I told her about, is that no, honesty is not always the best policy, and no, cooperation doesn’t always help us. In other words, she can hope her good behavior helps, but I wouldn’t count on it. It’s going to depend on who’s got the leverage, what they think of her, etc. There are a lot of factors involved, and of course, life isn’t fair most of the time. Some may feel my way of thinking is negative, but to me, after all I’ve seen, heard and been through, I think it’s realistic, depressing or not. I just don’t think we should kid ourselves, is all. It’s best to hope for the best but to expect the worst. That way, one won’t get so disappointed in the end if things don’t go well.

I sent her the pictures of my hair dyed ruby red and told her that Tom suggested we bleach our hair in a month or two.

I asked her why she was on the bottom bunk this time. I know she always used to be up top whenever she could so she wouldn’t have to worry as much about getting moved. Maybe Dope was on top first. I hated the lower bunk in that cell cuz of the light right outside the door, but I also didn’t want my head by the desk right where the person above me would be climbing up and down.

She says the only DOs there that I knew are Misery and Pérez, and of course, she hasn’t seen Pérez. She says Misery’s the same old Misery, making her take shit off the walls. Then, just like with me, she shocked Mary by being nice and not bothering her with shit like that.

Boy, they really move those DOs around just like the inmates! Tom says they do it so they can’t have time to set up drug deals and other illegal activities.

I asked her if she’s ever had a crush on a DO, and if she had to do it with one of them, who would it be? Make it someone I knew too, I told her, so I can know who she was talking about. It’ll be interesting to see if it’s who I think it is (Teddy Bear). I also asked her if she’s ever been attracted to another inmate.

She liked the dolls, agreeing that Bailey’s the best. She liked Chris’s wings and Ciara’s gown.

She said she’d tell me more about James’s case sometime. That’d be nice. Also, knowing more of the details pertaining to both James and Gretchen might help us guess a little better as to what the outcome may be.

I wish Pérez would get back there so she can see if she got my letter or not.

Even more so, I wish Teddy Bear would get back there. She’s my only hope of finding out why she blew me off, but with my shit luck, she won’t return till after she’s gone. Also, there’s a chance Teddy Bear may not discuss it with her. Or maybe she’ll lie about it. If the real reason was cuz she’s seeing someone, she may just tell her that she simply decided it’d be best not to see each other.

If only she knew just how much I loved her and just how much she hurt me! I wonder how she’d feel about it. Probably not much. After all, I’m sure I’ve been the farthest thing from her mind since I left. I’m sure she rarely thinks of me.

I get by okay most of the time, but sometimes I still hurt pretty bad over her dumping me the way she did. Not just that, of course, but the not even calling to say thanks, but no thanks. Not even a simple little explanation. Nothing. It’s like she never existed and I never existed for her.

For a while there, I considered writing Helen a letter, explaining that I know I’m not her patient anymore, but could she give me advice on how to deal with this better and maybe get over her faster? I was going to tell her that it’s not like I’m not functioning or like I’m sitting around bawling my eyes out for hours at a time, it’s just that she’s always on my mind. I go to read and I’m suddenly distracted by a memory of her, then I refocus and begin to read more, till the thought of us getting it on distracts me once again.

After all, Helen has helped me in the past, like with understanding other possibilities concerning Tom’s dry dick, and in dealing with my anger over the freeloaders, not that they still don’t infuriate me cuz they do. I’m sure anyone else would feel this way too, if they were in my shoes. I’ll never be “okay” with what they’ve done to me.

Anyway, when I asked Tom’s opinion about it, he said it’d be rude to ask for free advice from her just because she’s a nice person, and after thinking about it, I see that he’s right. He said if I wanted to make an appointment, that’d be ok, but no thanks. I’m not that hard up for help. Besides, hasn’t enough money been spent on the freeloaders? I don’t need to start losing money over Teddy Bear, too.

I guess this is just one of those cases where time heals all wounds, but when? When??? In a few months? A few years? Never? When is she going to just go away? Just fade away and become an old memory that doesn’t surface much more often than Norah M from the Harley Hotel (the bitchy English supervisor I had a crush on)? She too, played with my head, saying she’d come visit me. Then, after I asked her about it, she was like, “No, I’m your supervisor and I’m scared of Springfield.”

She really couldn’t have told me this up front?

Anyway, I’m never going to get the closure that’d help me deal with this, which would be a phone call or a letter from Teddy Bear explaining why she did what she did, so I’ll just have to deal with it. Just have to wait it out and hope for the best.

Later…

Although I highly doubt Teddy Bear will return to Estrella while Mary’s still there, anything’s possible, so I decided that rather than have Mary tell her how I feel, I’ll do it myself. I’m going to type her a letter, then send it to Mary to give to her if God forbid she ever does see her.

Friday, June 21, 2002

Sure enough, the birds and the prairie dogs are happily sifting through the rat’s bedding that I just dumped out in the wash.

Tom was right. No mention of the classes. Mr. Serious himself was a bit looser today. A bit more talkative. Last time, it was like he was either in a bad mood, not feeling well, or tired. First we were held up by some mouthy dude who might as well have been coming to chat with an old buddy rather than his PO. This guy swore more than I do, too. When it was finally my turn to give him my form, he asked what was up and we told him about the car AC that crapped out on us.

See? Right on schedule. Can’t go more than 3-4 months without something expensive breaking. It’s a good thing Tom had that $500 from the stock money away to cover it. He better replace it too, as soon as he can so that we’re covered for the next thing that’ll break around September.

I mentioned looking forward to picking up Joy on Monday and getting class info.

When he asked if there were any changes, I said, “No. Well, actually, there is a change. You just haven’t noticed.”

Tom giggled at that point, then he noticed my hair and I said, “Yeah, I did a half-assed job, but I tried.”

Wait till he sees us both as bleached blondes!

Anyway, I was fucking sweating my ass off on the drive in and I thought the mister I brought along with me was broken. As Tom discovered right when we got there, the rubber ring had slipped to the side and just needed to be straightened out. That mister’s a real lifesaver, though. My heart was pounding just like it always does when I get overheated.

Anyway, he’s talking about either renting an air pump or borrowing one from work to convert the fucking thing so he can recharge it himself.

The weekend, which always seems to go too fast as long as the freeloaders are still in our lives, is going to go awfully slow this time around. That’s cuz we’ll be getting Joy Monday and I can’t wait! I think Tom’s gonna have to get her himself what with the way my schedule is now. Tomorrow, for the first time in over a month, I’m not setting the alarm!

The freeloaders wouldn’t let poor Tom sleep today. He didn’t get to bed till 10:00, then I woke him up at 1:00. If I’d known he didn’t get to sleep till that late, I wouldn’t have gotten him up till 3:00.

Anyway, at first I thought Tom couldn’t pick shoes out for Jade by himself, but it really wouldn’t be so hard for him. All he has to do is choose either a pair of plain white sneakers or sandals of some kind. If the shoes aren’t suitable for her, I’ll just use them on someone else.

Speaking of Jade, now that I’m getting to learn more about dolls, I made a discovery that both Tom and I laughed at. That 25” green-eyed Jade doll I like is my exact same Jade doll. They make her molds in either 25” or 32” like mine is, just like you can get Joy at either 19” or 26” like I’m getting.

They also have series depicting the same doll at different ages. There are a few dolls, Bailey being one of them, that have 3 different versions. There’s baby Bailey at 20”, then there’s my toddler Bailey at 24”, and sweet sixteen Bailey at 29”. I like the “Shay” series and I hope to have it someday.

Sometimes I can’t even decipher my own notes. A couple of lines down from where I’m actually typing, I like to list notes of the topics I wish to write about. Well, I’ve got the word slow written and I can’t figure out what the hell I meant by that. I’m like, what’s slow?

We both totally, totally mean it this time - we will never ever, ever go into another Dairy Queen as long as we live! Aaarrrggghhh! Those stupid, stupid Mexicans! I’m so sick of them and their stupidity and living in Little Mexico like this. Naturally, Tom insists it has nothing to do with people’s nationality, but I’m sorry, the bulk of them are either evil or downright dumb and illiterate.

We go in there and one of the two gigantic young and dumb Mexicans gives me the burger and fries I ask for in a reasonable amount of time. Shortly afterward comes my blizzard which is filled so full that ice cream’s slopping over its edges. The Mexie was too stupid to understand when I asked her to put the cup in its cover instead of trying to cover the top of the fucking thing and make even more of a mess. I don’t know if she had a problem with English or if she was just stupid, but I’m sure it was a combination of both. Meanwhile, Tom’s waiting and waiting for his own blizzard till he finally gets fed up and says, “Hey, look. He’s getting the same thing I ordered and you’ve served 5 others after I ordered.”

So the Mexie runs and makes him his blizzard, then he goes, “And then they don’t even fill it up.” And they didn’t. He got a large and I got a small, but between them not filling his and them overfilling mine, we ended up with the same amount.

I’m so sick of these stupid Mexicans, though. Sick of them! If they’d just get at least a high school diploma, instead of dropping out in 8th grade to join gangs, get high and spit out kids as fast as popcorn popping, maybe they wouldn’t be so fucking dumb. And goddamnit! This is America. We speak English here. I’m all for learning other languages, but if we’re gonna be dumb enough ourselves to let them keep pouring into this country, shouldn’t they at least have the decency to learn our fucking language if we’re gonna be forced to live together?!

I tacked a flag up to cover the skylight. It looks kind of cool with the light shining through the iris flag I chose, but we really could use a shade for it. It doesn’t cover it all, either. The skylight’s a few inches longer. Not as wide, though, so I folded it a bit.

I can’t pull any jokes on Tom to save my life, though as he admitted, it was a good try. It’s mostly because he knows I’m a little prankster and a joker. I tried to tell him that Lizzie Borden, who was accused and acquitted of axing her father and stepmother in Fall River, MA in 1892, was my great, great grandmother.

In truth, I don’t know when any of my grandparents were born, let alone when their parents were born. I don’t even know their names.

Tom knew that Lizzie Borden never had kids, and told me that if I had said she was a great, great aunt, then he may’ve bought the story.

Saturday, June 22, 2002

I was up 20 hours yesterday and slept for 10. Not without waking up several times in between for no reason. Once, I did have to pee, though.

Those freeloaders ran poor Tom ragged yesterday. He came home early from work yesterday, cuz he just couldn’t cut it on a few measly hours of sleep.

After having a dream that Teddy Bear was reconsidering calling me, there was a private hang-up a little while ago. I know it wasn’t her, though. She’d have left a message. It was just God teasing me with a few seconds’ worth of hope.

He’s so, so cruel to have let me fall for this woman on top of being thrown in jail. You know, we rarely get sales calls at this number, but during the two days after I sent the letter, there were a few of them. No doubt something up there wanting to tease me.

I can see, though, how seeing Teddy Bear may’ve only made things harder had we gotten together. I could’ve really ended up being torn between her and Tom, and if I had been dumb enough to choose her, it could’ve ended up ruining my life in all kinds of ways if things didn’t work out in the end.

Why oh why, then, did we ever have to meet? And if we did, why did she have to mean anything more to me than Palma or Pérez ever did?

I guess it’s a gender thing, too. More often than not, guys get too clingy while women blow people off.

I didn’t think to save a copy of my letter to Teddy Bear, so I’ve been trying to remember everything I wrote, asking myself if it could’ve gotten her in trouble. I don’t see how or why it would, but anything’s possible. It’s got to be either someone she met or something I said. What else could it be? Maybe it’s both. If it is something I wrote, then she’s more than likely going to always resent me for it. It’s not like she’d ever get over it, forgive me, then call me up to see how I’ve been, saying she had to deal with some personal problems or that she was just too busy to call right away.

She wouldn’t call if it was someone else either after they broke up or something. I mean, what’s she gonna say? That she couldn’t call right away cuz she had a girlfriend and now that they broke up she’d just love to see me?

Oh, Teddy Bear, Teddy Bear, how do I ever get over you??? How would she feel if she suddenly could know how much I loved her and how much I’m hurting over her? If this is still going on in a few months from now, maybe I’ll have to see Helen, though I don’t want to. We already spent a fortune on the freeloaders and we’re still doing so, so I don’t want to spend a fortune, even if it’s a much smaller one, on Teddy Bear.

I turned to Tom earlier and said, “You said this would happen, my falling in love with a woman. Well, please, please tell me it’ll never happen again!!! Loving you is enough. I don’t need to ever go through this shit again!”

Especially since I know nothing would ever come of it. She’d either play with my head or circumstances would prevent us from ever getting together.

Again, I have no regrets about meeting and marrying Tom, but why was it so important that I be fated to be a man’s woman, never to have the woman of my dreams? I mean, Kacey and Anne Marie came close, though Kacey was much closer. But if I compare Kacey to Teddy Bear, there’s no comparison. Kacey was an all-out settlement compared to her.

I’d have done things differently if I’d known Teddy Bear was going to blow me off. I’d either have not bothered to write, or I’d have written a totally different letter, in case that was it. I’d just be brief and to the point, telling her I was fine, I hoped she was too, and that I had some pet mice for her if she was interested.

Or maybe I’d tell her why I was there and let her know that the only reason we met was that I was Jewish and I complained on the wrong person with the wrong connections, as I said in the letter I’m sending to Mary. Then, while I could never know why she dumped me, she could at least know why I was really there.

Later…

The sun’s about halfway up now. Not a cloud in the sky out there. It feels like it hasn’t rained in ages. It’s been months, and June is the driest month in Arizona. It’s been an unusually dry winter, though. I wonder if the monsoons will be as wimpy as they were last summer, or as fierce as they were the summer before that. That would’ve been the summer of 2000, our first summer here.

I think I’ll look into getting a coffee bean grinder. Fresh-ground coffee is supposed to taste much better.

Tom said he might streak his hair after he bleaches it, then shave it off. He changed his mind, though, saying he has too many ugly moles to shave his hair. This was nice to hear cuz bald is ugly if you ask me. I hate that bald look.

I had Tom take off my shower brush and put my old shower massager back on. There’s just not enough water pressure out here to make the brush spin fast enough. In order to put enough pressure on the brush with my hand to scrub myself better, I’d have to stop the brush’s rotation. I also missed the small sharp, steady stream my old one puts out, leaving me room to step back out of the water in order to lather my hair. The other one sprayed too wide and I didn’t have any room to lather up in.

Tom and I were talking about different things, things we both agreed on, believe it or not. Here’s a classic example of how God lets some people get away with murder. Literally. From 1968-1970, a serial killer was on the loose in the southwest. He was known as the zodiac killer. Well, serial killers can’t stop, but this one did. He wrote tons of letters to the press and police, too. We think that the reason a serial killer suddenly “stops” is cuz he dies or is incarcerated for something else. He could’ve gotten caught, tried and convicted of arson or robbery or something.

We also agree that the end of the world, which probably won’t be in our time, won’t be caused by natural disasters or diseases. It’ll be either war or technology that’ll kill all the people. Right now we have bombs that can only kill thousands. Well, as soon as we get bombs that can kill millions, the world will be doomed if everybody doesn’t go bombing and shooting everybody up at once. People are crazy like that. There are tons of people who’d gladly kill themselves and take as much of the world along with them as possible.

Monday, June 24, 2002

Tom left a memo saying he’d be home by 10:00 PM, but now it’s coming up on 1:00. It seems I spend more time waiting for this man to come home than anything else. I don’t see much of him lately. He’s either at work or asleep. He was going to stop at his mother’s, then head on to work from there.

No, I don’t think he’s having an affair, not that I’d care as long as they used protection. You know Tom, though - nothing turns him on and everything turns him off. He’s just not big on sex any more than some of us are big on spicy foods, so no, I don’t think he’s getting it on with anyone.

The reason I wish he’d hurry up and get home is so he can go to sleep. That way, since I’ve been up since 9:30 (I missed my new show), we could go get Joy when the store first opens, and he could be well-rested.

Later…

Tom came in right as I was finishing my last sentence. He went to bed after telling me a funny story about Dave, and we’re still going to get Joy together tomorrow. We’ll leave at 7:45, stop at Circle K for a snack and some coffee, then get to the store when they open at 9:00.

Anyway, Dave received an email from a relative in New York and a picture of his sister Tammy. Dave was like, “You mean my cousin Tammy?” But as it would turn out, his father was whoring around on the side and so he’s got 4 siblings he never knew about.

I guess they thought it was me playing a joke on them at first cuz the sister supposedly sounds just like me. They’ve talked on the phone and sent an email back and forth.

Then Tom had to go and piss me off after I said I’d sic my sister Tammy’s local pigs on her if she called ma’s to get to me. He didn’t actually piss me off, but his attitude really irks me. He was like, “Why would you want to start trouble? You gotta disassociate yourself from people.”

But sometimes people won’t let us disassociate ourselves from them, and he of all people should know this. Not even moving can disassociate us from our enemies at times! I tried yet again to tell him that sometimes you just gotta fight back. We’re in the mess we’re in today because we didn’t. Instead, he just wants to bury his head in the sand, defend the perpetrators right after agreeing that what happened to me wasn’t fair, not fight back, and basically just kid himself about the whole thing. I’ll bet he did the same thing with his family as he did with Paula and made me out to be the villain.

What I wonder about Tom is when is it ever appropriate to fight back? We got taken by contractors for thousands and he let it go, I got thrown in jail and he’s gonna let that go, too. I know he is. He’s not gonna seek future revenge on anyone responsible for what happened to me. He just says that to try and make me feel better, then he says he won’t tell me what he has in mind cuz the less I know, the better off we’ll be. He isn’t gonna do shit to them. He simply isn’t the type. One of us could be paralyzed in a car accident that wasn’t our fault and he still wouldn’t fight back. Probably not even if I were killed. Wouldn’t do him any good anyway. God would only protect my murderer.

On the other hand, what good would it do me to call Tammy’s local pigs? It’s New England, remember? They’ll just tell me what they did when I tried that on Larry out of spite; that they’re so far away, so I shouldn’t worry. Then they might tell me they’ll call them just to get me off their backs, but I know they won’t. That’s just not Arizona where you can call up a pig, tell them so-and-so gave you a dirty look, and watch them go flying after them like a bat out of a hell.

It’s a family thing, I guess, as far as others fucking them over. They hope it doesn’t happen, but when it does they just live with it.

I can sort of understand, though. Meaning that if the freeloaders suddenly decided to call and threaten me, I wouldn’t “fight back.” I wouldn’t bother telling Scot and I certainly wouldn’t run to the pigs about it. What good would it do me and who would believe me anyway? I’m white.

We put the grille back up in the skylight to avoid some of the direct sun/heat.

Tuesday, June 25, 2002

So it took 38 days to get Joy, and she is beautiful! Very realistic looking. More so than Bailey and Jade. Especially the hands. I’ve never ever seen such realistic and detailed-looking hands! With the exception of her eyes, which are kind of squinted and half-shut cuz of her huge smile, she’s better than Bailey and Jade. They fibbed when they said she was 26”, though. She’s more like 24½. I didn’t need to get her a stand. She’s using a stand I had.

Right now she’s on the TV, cuz of her pose. I didn’t realize she was looking downward as well as to the side, so in order to see her face better, it’s best that she be up a little higher. I’ll eventually put her on a shelf by the bed. Then she can look down at me while I read. Or maybe I’ll put her in the office.

Amazingly, I put together an outfit for her in under 20 minutes. I took some old material consisting of large pink and blue splotches, wrapped the material under her arms and around in back, then pinned it. The only sewing I did was the hem. Then I rolled some material and put it across her upper arms where her arms move and you can see down to the armature, wrapping it around the backs of her arms and pinning it. Not bad at all for a fast, sloppy put-together. The colors go great with her coloring and she looks great in an off-the-shoulder outfit. Especially since her chin nearly rests on her shoulder.

She has a different mouth mold. As I read, you can do the mouth differently after you’ve cut out the space for the mouth. In the pictures I saw of her, she had both upper and lower teeth showing, but my Joy only has upper teeth showing. It looks great either way.

I also got shoes and socks for Jade. White, closed-toed sandals and white socks with pink trim. If it weren’t for Jamie I’d have gotten shoes too small. I was gonna get 95 mm shoes, but she really needed 105 mm shoes. They’re a little big on her, but it’s easier to get the shoes on over the socks this way and it makes her feet look bigger and more proportioned. I always thought her feet were too small for her body. Hers and Bailey’s are the same size, yet Bailey is 8” shorter.

The classes are going to cost more than we thought they would, and Tom won’t be able to sit in and watch. Jamie said that’s mainly cuz there’s no room. After adding up the cost of the doll (not a cheap piece of shit) and all the other stuff, like the supplies, it’ll run us around $250, and according to her, I may need to do 3 or 4 dolls with them before I really get the hang of it. She said it takes hours just to clean the greenware. They have about 10 classes, each one 2.5 hours long, and it takes a couple of classes just to clean the greenware. I was surprised to learn this.

She said they recommend starting with Sugar Britches, a sleeping baby, but I don’t know. I need to learn to cut/set eyes.

She also told me that if I wanted to avoid the expense of a kiln, they charge $5 for soft firing and $10 for a long firing. Kilns aren’t as easy to use as a regular oven either. You don’t just stick the stuff in it. It has to be set on special props. That’s this stuff that looks like batting, only it can withstand extreme temperatures.

I’ll have to call Dolls, Bears & Surprises and compare prices. Maybe they start with cheapies like those $40 Seymour Mann dolls. JBS’s classes are only $8.50. It’s the doll and supplies that are costly, but it’s still worth it to me. At least I’m pretty sure it is, though it still seems rather overwhelming to me. It seems there’s so much to learn, but if I can enjoy this and make a little money at it, it’ll be worth the struggle. It’s too bad Tom can’t sit in. I had hoped he could so he could help me with anything I may forget or not understand. But I’m a quick learner with a great memory, so I’ll get by.

Not that I’m having any thoughts about reuniting with Andy, but I wonder - am I a horrible person for abandoning him like I did despite our growing differences? I suppose most people would say that I am and that I wasn’t a true friend any more than Jenny C was when she decided she could be my friend through the thick, but not the thin.

Another thing I wonder is whether or not Teddy Bear’s ignoring me is my punishment for dumping Andy. I don’t know, somehow I think it would’ve happened anyway under that not-meant-to-be rule.

Tom says he doesn’t think I’m a horrible person for doing what I did, and that I simply moved on like most people do.

Yes, I agree with him. When you think about it, how many people are in our lives for 10 or more years? Everybody moves on at some point and no one’s in our lives forever. At least, 99% of the people we meet aren’t. The only one that’ll be in my life forever is Tom. I’m sure I won’t always know Paula or Mary. I’m sure we’ll move on sooner or later.

Later…

I’ve been sleeping really weird lately. Due to the excitement of getting the doll, I slept for 8 hours but had been up 20 hours, so I was tired. Too tired to write, too tired to clean, too tired to work out. I was even too tired to shower, so I crashed for another 8 hours and ended up with 16 hours of sleep in an 18-hour period. This was after my schedule had shifted 14 hours in just 4 days.

Almost 2 hours after we got back with Joy, not that God would have him miss me, the cheeks popped in. Tom had just gone to bed and was too beat himself to hear him knock, which was good. Scot was in and out in a flash.

Good. That gets him out of my hair at home for a month or two. Still, the more I’m home and up when he comes by, the better. Answering the door as quickly as I can is a good thing, too. I wouldn’t want him getting paranoid and getting the wrong idea. I’ve suffered enough on account of others’ paranoia and misunderstanding of me. He’d suffer too, and I’d make sure of it, but I don’t need the hassle. I’ve had enough shit to deal with in my life. I still don’t see why I need to see him 3 times a month over a letter, but there are worse things in life, I suppose.

I’m still pretty sure Teddy Bear decided long before she got my letter that she was going to blow me off. Just the fact that she didn’t call by Christmas made me wonder about that, then when she didn’t call right before the letter, that made me wonder even more. No matter how professional I was, if I really liked someone that much, I’d have found an excuse to call her by Christmas, and if I switched jails, I’d want to let her know just in case the letter didn’t make it to me.

She never could’ve felt an eighth of what I felt for her. Even so, I wish to hell she’d return to Estrella before Mary leaves! I’m so, so curious to hear what she might have to say to Mary as far as why she did what she did, not that we could trust that she’s telling the truth. I could never trust her now. Not with the way she’s stood me up. I’d have to be a real fool to associate with her if she did one day call me.

But I am a fool. And I’m sure I’d jump right to any opportunity to see her, get to know her, get it on with her, etc.

Thursday, June 27, 2002

Two mice died, so now I’m down to just 3.

I was thinking about it, and you know, I really wish the guinea pig had lived after all. Now that I’ve got all the rats living together in the new cage, the old one would be ideal for a GP. I miss the sounds they make. The cage wouldn’t need shelves or even a roof, as long as I elevate the base by putting it on its stand. I’m sure I could get Tom to go for getting another one. Just one, though. Preferably a male, so we’ll know it can’t be pregnant.

I called DBS (Dolls, Bears & Surprises) yesterday, and so far, it looks like we may go with them. They’re closer and cheaper than JBS. Like JBS, they have the same amount of classes per doll - 10 classes, usually completed in 5 weeks. However, their classes are a buck cheaper at $7.50, and it’ll take about $150 to get started, $100 less than JBS. If I need to take a second set of classes and assemble another doll, it won’t cost me as much cuz I’ll already have the supplies. All I’ll need is to pick out another doll, and as I was told, I can choose any doll in the store I want. He says he has something like 480 dolls to choose from.

Tom and I discussed him taking classes too, since they’re cheaper here, and we’ll make totally different dolls so we can learn more at once.

Friday, June 28, 2002

Today’s Tom’s 45th birthday. I wish he were closer to my age since women are supposed to live longer than men. Maybe the years I smoked will make up for that, but I don’t know. He doesn’t work out. I do. I also eat healthier stuff.

By today the PO will have thrown Carmencita on a shelf and considered her an attempted delivery. That is if they haven’t given her to someone else.

Why can’t I order a doll and get it?!

Saturday, June 29, 2002

A group of about 4 of Tom’s employees got him some soda, a colorful birthday balloon, a card, and a credit card for up to $40 of food at the Olive Garden restaurant. That’s a lot of pasta!

He didn’t stop at the PO on his way to work tonight (last night), but that’s okay. I know my doll isn’t there, even though it is there. It’s just gonna have to sit there till we email PG on July 10th.

They have us rather confused right now. They were supposed to deduct 25% off of Carmencita and Murganah when I ordered them and bought a 1-year membership, but then they sent me certificates for 25% off of two dolls.

I am so done with this doll company after I fight for the 3 we ordered on our anniversary! So done with them! They may be cheap, but no thanks. Not if the fun’s gonna be spoiled with shit like this and with having to trace and fight for dolls. I’ll learn to make my own.

Got a makeshift letter from Mary yesterday. She was out of paper and envelopes. I decided to send her a sheet or two of blank paper whenever I write. I know how outrageous paper is in there - $1.50 for 50 sheets. Out in the real world, you can get so much paper for so little, so I don’t mind doing this at all.

I’m surprised she ran out of paper. She always has a ton of money in her account, and they don’t have a limit on how much paper per week you can order like they do with envelopes.

She also said something I didn’t quite get. Something about Justin’s trying to get into a funny farm, which means they’ll take her to prison in Florida.

But I thought she’d have to go to prison no matter where he ended up.

Anyway, she says she’s glad something will finally be happening and that she should know on July 22nd.

And I wish she’d stay there! Just long enough to give Teddy Bear my letter. God won’t have it, though, I know it. He’d never have her return while Mary was there. He wants us as done with each other as we have been since April 27th, 2001. Then why’d you have me fall in love with her, God??? Why’d I have to come to love her in the first place? To spice up my time there?

The sun, which is just now popping up from behind the mountain way off in the distance, looks so cool with clouds that make it seem red. It’s like this bright red fiery ball. Due to the clouds we’ve been having, I wonder if the monsoons aren’t making their way in. It’s a bit early, though most of June was typical - hot and dry without a cloud in the sky. I can tell just by the lack of static in my hair that there’s a higher level of humidity than normal.

[unofficialsherlockian]

(tis Bougie on anon! Hi!)

W, X, Y and N for the fanfic meme?

Thanks for the ask! I love talking about fanfic :’) (fanfic meme)

W. Favorite pairing to read is definitely Sherlock Holmes x John Watson in most any capacity (save for the platonic Elementary, unless friendships can count in a pairing, then Joan and Sherlock is up there!). Top of that is the og Doyle universe ofc. I’ll slurp up some KakaGai any day too (Kakashi x Gai from Naruto is basically canon anyways).

To write is tricky. I want to write Holmes x Watson but I haven’t found my footing yet. I think my favorite to write so far with confidence has been Linus Baker x Arthur Parnassus (idk if there is a ship name!) of TJ Klune’s The House in the Cerulean Sea. I felt so connected to those characters in a real unique way and writing them feels like second nature. Their voices are always in my head.

X. Im somewhere between a voracious fic reader and a careful one. Smaller fandoms tend to be voracious- I go through the tag picking stuff that sounds good to read and once I finish that, I double back and clear the whole tag out. Larger fandoms I’m very selective (stuff like Sherlock Holmes and HP have me going through with a fine-toothed comb).

Y. Personal satisfaction vs popularity - I kind of have to focus on personal satisfaction as a small time fic writer. I also have a long running background as a writer who has done a lot of original work but hasn’t published yet, so I’m always doing what feels great to me, even if it’s not what other people read.

I’m definitely not most satisfied by my most popular stories - Year one of the Slytherin Harry AU (HP and the Stone of the Immortal) has the most hits of anything rn but I think as I’ve worked on that series, I’ve gotten better and had more fun with it (I’m grateful so many people have taken a look and enjoyed that first part. I really loved writing it; it was a fun start to what’s turning out to be a crazy complicated character driven AU/rewrite. The love for that one is also pushing me to work on it more because damn I wanna eventually finish my queer Slytherin HP).

Second most hits are on Just Transport (BBC’s Sherlock told through the lens of FTM Sherlock). I’m proud of that one because of the response it got-several people said how much it meant to them. But it’s also something written by a very young guy and it shows on how I tackled certain things. I did some trans Sherlock Holmes fic since that I’m definitely more satisfied with (Pieces that Fit with Elementary’s Sherlock FTM)

Those two most popular by hits are second and third to Soulmates in Kudos and I would honestly never think about soulmates again if not for the face that many people still like it (for some reason lol). Emergancy Lighting follows that up, though and that’s one of my most favorite that I’ve ever posted, followed by a couple most recent ones, so I’m hoping as I grow as a writer, maybe it will show in the “popularity” of fics as well.

But honestly, personal satisfaction aside, I’d be happy to only have a handful of readers if they all expressed that my writing meant something to them. That kind of connection is what’s really the best with any story.

[moemoemammon]

Following that "least favorite" request could we get their reactions to being to told that they're their favorite, but to not tell the other brothers so their feelings don't get hurt? Maybe because they relate to them the most or just get along really well. Thanks!

You're My Favorite! But Don't Tell the Others-

(Feat. GN!MC and the Demon Bros)

✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦

Lucifer

There are no words to explain the overwhelming satisfaction ion Lucifer’s face after you tell him that. Of course, it’s only natural that he would be your favorite, all things considered.

The Avatar of Pride won’t ever forget this moment. He carefully considers your words and agrees not to tell anyone, as much as he’d love to bring it up, because he knows more than anyone what kind of chaos would ensue should the others (especially Mammon) find out.

But they can tell something’s up when the eldest has been heard humming all day. He moves about the house with even more grace than usual, and hasn’t scowled even once.

But the REAL shocker was when Mammon tried hiding a bill right as Lucifer walked in... and the eldest let him off with a warning. A WARNING! The brothers thought the Devildom must’ve frozen over, but you and he knew different.

“MC, I would like you to accompany me to Le Pluvier this afternoon, once you've finished your studies. I've already made reservations, so be sure to get ready on time. I've made sure to consider the things you might like to eat, so I'm sure you'll enjoy yourself. Don't be late." "...I'm grinning? I don't know what you're talking about."

Mammon

The gigantic grin on Mammon’s face is so bright, it could rival the sun. You’ve seriously made his day. No, his year. Actually, he’s pretty sure he could ride this high for the next millennia! There’s nothing in this world that could dampen his spirits right now! 

He feels like he just won big at the casino! Of course he’s your favorite! He WAS your first demon, and now he’s gone and claimed his rightful spot as your number one! Good luck trying to keep him from saying anything. Mammon’s gonna throw it around in everyone’s faces for as long as he can milk it.

And you thought he was clingy before, just wait till you see how he treats you after hearing that. Despite always calling you his ‘servant’ or his ‘human’, you’d  think your roles were reversed. Mammon spoils you every chance he gets, buying you clothes and trinkets, filling the spaces in your room with the things he knows you like, monopolizing you completely until nearly everything you own is a gift from him.

Your words also help soothe that jealousy of his a little. Only a little, though. It’s easier to watch you talk to other demons when he knows he’ll always be your first man.

“Didja really have to stay after class that long? I know you were talkin' to that demon that lent you a book, but you outta ask ME for stuff! Tch... you're lucky I'm in a good mood today! But I guess I don't have to worry about some low level demon like that, seein' as I'm your favorite!"

Levi

Wait wait wait....Come again? Did you seriously just say what he think you said..? That had to be a mistake! Some kind of...uh..verbal typo! Because there’s absolutely, positively, NO WAY in all of the nine layers that he could be your favorite demon. And yet you still insist that you’re telling the truth, and Levi feels like he’s died and gone to heaven. 

Red faced and stammering up a storm, Levi looks like he might die. Is it really okay for a shut-in otaku to feel this giddy? Seriously, he hasn’t felt like this since he got his hands on a signed copy of a Ruri Hana audio drama! No no, this definitely beats that!

You’ve managed to inflate his nearly nonexistent ego, and now he feels like there’s nothing he can’t do! Maybe he could even go to Majolish right now?? THAT’S how good he’s feeling!

Almost as bad as Mammon in keeping it a secret. He doesn’t tell anyone right away, but they’re suspicious when they notice how much time he’s spending out of his room. And then when he and Mammon get in another petty argument, he drops the bomb that he’s your favorite demon in the entire Devildom, and you can guess how things go from there.

“Uuuoooo...!!!!! I've decided..! Since I've got a serious stat buff, I'm going to open a booth at the next convention coming up..! I'll sell my Ruri-chan fan art and spread her influence all over the Devildom! I'd never have the guts to do it normally, but I feel like I could do anything right now! Y-you'll go too, won't you MC?"

Satan

You nearly made this man spit tea all over his book, and now he’s coughing and spluttering and trying to figure out what could’ve prompted what he’s taking as a confession. You.. do realize what you’re saying, don’t you? And you know the kind of effect your words have on him?

Satan isn’t the type that wears his heart on his sleeve, so you have to look for his subtle expressions to tell how he’s feeling. But there’s nothing subtle about the redness of his ears and how he’s begging you not to look at him right now. For the sake of his sanity, give him a minute to recoup.

When he does recover, he agrees to keep it a secret for obvious reasons. And it’s hard to tell that he’s in a good mood, other than the fact that he hasn’t tried to pull any pranks on Lucifer lately. But Asmo sees all, and literally hounds him into spilling the tea.

He tells him a lie of course, but now the other brothers are noticing just how happy he is. Satan's smiling way too much today, isn't he? And he didn't even get mad when Beel got whipped cream on his jacket! Well, not THAT mad, anyway.

"Haaah... everyone's been harassing me all day, claiming I'm smiling a lot. I'm sure I look the same as I always do, but I'll admit that I've been happy ever since you told me that this morning. Wait.. you did think I've been grinning too, do you? I have??"

Asmo

Asmo always jokes about being your favorite and announces it as if the two of you are married, but when you actually confirm that his longing for you isn’t one sided, he ends up smearing lip balm across his cheek in shock. Did you... really say that just now? He knew it all along, but hearing it like that is just...!

Ooooh, he’s so happy he can hardly contain himself! Asmo throws his arms around you, peppering your face in kisses until you feel sticky from lip balm, wipes your face clean, then marks it up all over again. Good luck getting rid of him, because he might never let go.

Immediately posts it to Devilgram. Did you really think he’d let such a momentous occasion go unannounced? You must not have been paying attention to the kind of person he is! Asmo would put you on a pedestal in front of the world like a precious jewel if he were able, but this’ll have to do. He won’t hide his love at all!

Of course, the others don’t take too kindly to it, not that he cares. He never leaves your side, pampers you like crazy, and has even attempted to get you to move into his room. Lucifer put an immediate stop to that, though. Boo...

“I just can't get enough of you, MC! Just being near you gets me so excited that I can hardly stand it! You'll take responsibility for what you're doing to me, won't you? And in exchange, I'll take my time showing you just how much I love you. After all, you're my favorite, too!"

Beel

Beel never has a problem with choking while he eats, and it comes as naturally as breathing. Unfortunately neither of that applies right now, since you just made him choke on a meatball sub.

He usually takes your words with quiet acceptance, but this might be the most emotion you've ever witness from the stoic demon. His eyes are wider than that time that laid on an entire gingerbread mansion, sparkling up with such deep emotion you wouldn't be surprised if he cried. Instead he softens up and immediately embraces you.

...And doesn't let go. Sandwich long forgotten, he's been carrying you around all day, and ignoring any questions or protests from his brothers. Also insists on feeding you throughout the day. The food tastes better when he can enjoy it with you, so why not just bring you everywhere?

When he isn't carrying you, he's following you around subconsciously, either close up against you like a protective wall, or just far enough that you're within his line of sight. As far as not telling anyone, he... tells Belphie immediately. It was an accident though, since there's not much he keeps from his twin.

"MC, I won a meal ticket for Godevil Chocolatier. Let's get something for dessert today. Ah, you can get as much as you want, too. I really want to see what things you choose. They might become my favorites."

Belphie

There's nothing in this world that can wake Belphegor from his sleep, unless he allows it. No loud noises, no amount of shaking or smacking, and not even dragging him around the house. But the moment you whisper that he's your favorite demon, the Avatar of Sloth is wide awake.

Hey, you're not just saying weird things to get a reaction, are you? Because if so, this is a new level of cruel. Yet you confirm that you mean it and swear him into secrecy, and Belphie tries his best not to show how happy he is. A smile keeps creeping up on his face that he struggles to force down. It's annoying...

As funny as it’d be to tell everyone the news, he's good at keeping secrets. Instead, you've noticed that he's been sleeping a little less that before. When he does take one of his hundreds of naps, he finds some way to be closer to you. He's even been seen sleepwalking to your exact location somehow-

It's hard for him to believe that you're not teasing, though. How could HE be your favorite demon here? Belphie doesn't do anything special to win you over, yet after everything he put you through, you like him enough to deep him your favorite?

"You're weird, MC. I mean... me? I won't deny that I'm really happy though, but I guess I'm in disbelief. You should spoil me even more until I believe you. Lend me your lap for a few hours, okay?" "...I wonder what Lucifer would think if I told him, heheh."

[imagine-a-life-like-this]

Definitely Not Dating (H.HJ)

Warnings : none i can think of?

Word Count : 1622

Synopsis : all their friends tease them about dating due to how close they were, but they were just friends. or were they?

“Your boyfriend’s here.” My roommate and best friend, Felix, teased after answering the door. Hyunjin was close behind him, chuckling at the joke all our friends made about us.

           “Still not dating.” I countered as I stood up from the couch, grabbing my purse. “Where to today?” My words were now directed at Hyunjin who was standing in the doorway, his hands shoved in his pockets.

           “I figured we’d go see that play you’re always talking about. There’s a showing downtown tonight.” My eyes lit up when he said that. “I already bought the tickets.” He added with a chuckle.

           “Have I ever told you I love you, Hwang Hyunjin?” I asked with a smile, linking my arm with his as we made our way outside and to his car.

           “Only everyday.” He countered with a smirk.

           “Never mind, I hate you. Ugly.” I unlinked our arms as he opened the door for me, as he always would. As I got in and buckled my seatbelt, I could see Felix in the window, watching us with a teasing grin on his face. I knew exactly what he was thinking, so I flipped him off just as Hyunjin got into the driver’s seat. He looked forward just in time to see Felix return the gesture while sticking his tongue out.

           “You two have an odd friendship.” He chuckled as he did up his seatbelt. My phone automatically connected to his car as he usually let me play whatever I wanted to listen to. Our friends would always mention how cute that fact was. Maybe if you had better taste in music, he’d let you play your playlists. I’d always retort, hoping the growing feelings weren’t as obvious as our friends insisted they were.

           The next day, I sat at a table in the library with a couple of friends, working on the homework given out that day. My phone, that sat on the table, seemed to vibrate with a text message every few seconds. “Should probably see what they want. It’s probably your boyfriend.” Jeongin teased, nudging me with his shoulder. I rolled my eyes, once again saying that Hyunjin and I weren’t dating.

           “It’s probably Felix asking me to pick up something on my way home. Hyunjin said he was going to the dance studio today.” Hyunjin always threw himself into his dances, barely looking at his phone unless it was to pick a song or pause the music. There was absolutely no way he would be texting me right now. But when I picked it up, I was shocked to see it was him.

 We should get dinner tonight.

That restaurant you like has an opening tonight. I’ll make the reservations.

We could go stargazing after.

Why aren’t you answering me?

Oh right, you’re studying with Jeongin and Seungmin. Tell them I said hi!

Let me know when you’re done, I’ll pick you up : )

           I couldn’t help but smile at the messages, my stomach doing flips as I thought about how this would be a cute date, if it was a date. Dinner and stargazing. “So, what does Felix want?” The teasing tone coming from Seungmin’s lips told me he knew it wasn’t Felix.

           “Hyunjin says hi.” I answered, watching as their faces contorted into teasing grins.

           “And?” Jeongin prodded, nudging me with his shoulder again.

           “And that he’s making reservations at a restaurant before taking me stargazing.” I mumbled under my breath, hoping they wouldn’t hear me. They did.

           Hyunjin stayed true to his word and was outside the library doors when Jeongin, Seungmin, and I exited. His long blond hair tied up in that half pony he always did, his bangs falling across his face. I never was one for long, dyed hair before, preferring men with shorter, dark hair. But Hyunjin pulled off the long blond look so well it was hard not to be drawn to him. “Have fun on your date!” Jeongin teased as the two of them took off in the opposite direction of Hyunjin and I.

           “Do you think our friends will ever believe we’re just friends?” Hyunjin joked as he slid his hand in mine, lacing our fingers together. I giggled to myself, knowing that if I was an outsider looking in, I would think exactly the way they do. But this is how our friendship has been since high school. We’ve always been touchy with each other, cuddling and holding hands.

           “Once we’re married to other people.” I joked, trying not to let the hurt I felt at the very thought of him falling in love with someone else evident in my voice.

           We sat across from each other at my favourite restaurant, browsing the menu in silence. Soft chatter from the other patrons, and the soft classical music they played filling the comfortable silence between us. If I’m honest, I’ve only been here one other time. My previous birthday, Hyunjin brought me here. It was the first time we’d been somewhere so fancy, and we were quite underdressed, not knowing the dress code for the restaurant. We laughed about how badly we stuck out among the other patrons, but neither one of us cared. That memory alone made it my favourite place.

           Hyunjin held my hand from across the table as we ate, catching each other up on our day as if we hadn’t seen each other in ages, even though I saw him yesterday. We rarely went a day without seeing each other, almost as if we had a need to be by each other’s side whenever possible.

           We laid beside each other on the blanket Hyunjin brought, staring up at the night sky sparkling with stars. Soft music played from his phone that was laying in between us. He quietly sung along to the songs, and my heart swelled with joy. I absolutely loved listening to him sing, even though he hates singing in front of people. I’m sure I’m the only person that’s ever heard him, and honestly that should be a crime. His voice was my favourite in the entire world, but maybe I’m biased because I love him.

           “We’re friends, right?” I asked, silencing his singing, and bringing his attention from the stars to me. I turned my head to face him, our eyes meeting.

           “Of course.” He replied almost immediately.

           “But are we just friends?” The question hung in the air longer than the first one, but neither one of us moved, our eyes still locked. The weight of his hand in mind suddenly clearer than it’s ever been before.

           “What do you mean?” It was as if the words he meant to say were caught in his throat. I could hear it in the way his voice cracked when he answered.

           “Our friends always tease us about dating.” I pointed out.

           “That’s what friends do.” He smiled, his thumb now running over my knuckles. My skin burned from his touch, but I loved the feeling.

           “We’re always holding hands and cuddling.”

           “We’re touchy people.” He shrugged. I didn’t bring up the many times he told our other friends that he didn’t like skin ship. He wasn’t much of a hugger unless it was me. But I didn’t bring that up.

           “What about all the fancy dinners? The plays? Movies? Stargazing?” I gestured to what we were doing right now with my free hand, refusing to pull my hand away from his, loving the feeling of his hand in mine. I always have.

           “I like spoiling you.” Silence fell upon us again as I tried to think of what else to say. So many more things to point out, but I’m sure he had an explanation for it all. The drawers of my stuff at his place, and the drawer of his stuff at my place. The loving captions on pictures we posted of each other. The heart-shaped necklace he gave me one day, our initials engraved on the back of it. He’d have an explanation for it all, that I’m sure of. But there’s one thing he couldn’t explain away.

           “I’m in love with you.” The words rolled off my tongue before I could stop them, as if they were meant to be said in that moment. He could explain all the cute moments and thoughtful gifts, saying it’s just the way our friendship is. That’s just how close we were. But the love I have for him isn’t platonic.

           My confession hung in the air like a neon sign, and the confidence I once had began to fade. But before I could take it back, his lips were on mine. The same lips I’ve been dreaming about kissing for years, were now pressed against mine in the sweetest kiss I’ve ever experienced. It was a kiss filled with love and passion. A kiss that couldn’t be explained in a platonic way. “We aren’t just friends.” He whispered after pulling away. “I don’t think we ever were.”

           He kissed me again when dropping me off at home that night, whispering a quick I love you before I walked into the house I shared with Felix. “How was your date?” Felix teased when he saw I was home.

           “Perfect.” I smiled, watching as his eyes widened at the fact I didn’t bant with him.

           “You’re not denying that this was a date?” He questioned, fully emerging from the kitchen, where he was most likely baking brownies.

           “Why would I?” I kicked my shoes off and placed my purse on the coffee table before sitting on the couch, still on cloud nine.

           “Because you always do? You and Hyunjin are just friends.” I smiled and shook my head.

           “Hyunjin and I are definitely dating.”

[miekasa]

mie….could we please get college au eren headcanons👉🏽👈🏽

Of course. I’m always thinking about his big head anyway <33 might as well put it good use.

One thing he learned in college is how to make his hyperfocus/fixation episodes work for him; that’s why he schedules all his classes as close together as possible. He’d rather have class back to back for 5 hours, than have it spread out with hours in between lectures, because that increases his changes of cutting.

You can always tell when he’s in class and/or what class he’s in by how much he responds to your messages. If he doesn’t text back at all, he’s in a class that hard or one he enjoys, or both. But if he’s sending you iMessage games, then you know he’s in his elective that he couldn’t care else about (and is probably cheating in someway somehow lmfao). 

He usually puts his phone on dnd when he’s in a class that’s important, but you’re in his favorite contacts, so your messages always ring through. What if it’s an emergency and you need him for something? Advanced Roots of Human Biology can wait. 

Some days there are one or two our breaks between his lectures, that’s just how the scheduling works out. When that happens, he usually sneaks into one of your lectures, or goes to your place to take a nap. Your roommates have become accustomed to him, honestly they’ve been considering giving him a key. 

Once, he didn’t realize that your lecture was basically a seminar, with you, the prof and maybe six other students. He still stayed lmao, and the prof was so amazed by his dedication, that she didn’t even mind. Occasionally, you’ll catch the two of them talking after lecture. It’s pretty cute the way she’s adopted him into the class even tho he’s not on the roster. 

You... have to show him where the library is lmfao. He genuinely has not stepped foot in one until you bring him to one. He likes it tho lmao once he gets used to it. 

Speaking of which, do not give him standard directions to find your classes on campus because all you’ll get is, “Babe, I’m gonna keep it real with you, I’ve never heard of the ‘West Quad’ a day in my life. What building are you near.”

He usually comes to see you in the library after all his lectures are done for the day. Sometimes he does homework, sometimes he’s just fucking around on his computer, sometimes he’s just bothering you. When you have to leave to go to class, he stays behind to watch your stuff so you don’t have to pack everything up and come back. 

Very protective when it comes to keeping your seat for you. No, you cannot take that chair to your table you good for nothing freshman; it’s reserved for you. 

He’ll drag you out of the library if you’ve been cooped up all day, tho. Eren will use his height and his strength against you to get you up. Placates you with kisses when he sees your angry expression, and promises to buy you food.

He takes your backpack for you when you’re walking together,m. His backpack is frustratingly light all the time, even during midterms. You swear all he’s got in there is a pencil and some flashcards. 

If you have night classes, he sticks around to walk you home after, especially in the winter when it gets dark faster. If he’s not already on campus, he’ll walk/drive back to meet you; he just doesn’t like you going home alone. Even if your friend/roommate is in the class with you, Eren will walk or drive the both of you home for his own sanity. 

He plays sports, so he usually has practice most evenings, but he’ll find a way to make time. If practice was particularly brutal, he’ll probably crash at your place.

He loves it when you come to meet him after practice. His whole face lights up and he waves obnoxiously, before he gathers up his stuff and all but sprints towards you. You get a cold water bottle to the face, or a bit of water splashed on you usually, which he takes immense amusement in. 

He knows it’s not possible for you to make it to all of his games, and usually it doesn’t bother him much; you’ve got your own life, and work to worry about. All he asks is that you wear his jersey, or any item of his sports apparel/merch on game day (he’s partial to hoodies).

By the time junior year rolls around, he’s not all that interested in attending parties that aren’t hosted by your friends; so, unless it’s at Connie, Jean, or Reiner and Bertholdt’s place, Eren will usually decline. Even team parties, he’s not crazy about unless it’s to celebrate a championship or something. He’d much rather celebrate with you. 

He does get excited about hosting parties though, and he and Jean become pretty damn good co-hosts. They don’t throw ragers, and that’s probably why Eren likes it so much. It’s usually your friend group and a couple plus ones, some good music, games, weed, and take-out. 

He’ll buy you coffee whenever you ask for it. The first time, he just orders something plain, not really knowing the difference between anything; but give it two or three tries, and he’ll get it perfect. He becomes so good that he can order you something new/different and you’ll love it. 

That’s kind of the start of his own coffee addiction, and more often than not, when he buys you a cup, he’s on his second or third of the day himself. The flavor has really grown on him, okay. 

He much prefers your apartment, but on occasion, he’ll ask you to come to his. You’ve been studying for so long, a change of environment should do you good, he claims. He’s a fucking liar tho because that’s all Eren Talk for “I do genuinely want you to come over, but my plans are to coerce you out of doing your assignments and doing me instead.”

Lmfao he adds you on Apple Watch Rings just so you can see him close his rings every day and laugh at you. Even if yours get closed by virtue of walking around campus or working out or whatever, his numbers are stupidly high because he fucking has practice at least 4 days of the week. 

Of course when you’re running on a soccer field for 2 hours every day, you close your Move Ring five times, Eren. Leave the rest of us alone. 

He buys you guys matching accessories for your keychains. It’s something pretty cute, and slightly random, but it reminded him of you. It also serves as a reminder to himself to take his fucking keys with him when he leaves his house. 

He sleeps like a fucking rock, so do not let him fall asleep in the library. Waking him up is a mission, and he’s never happy to be woken up. He looks kinda cute tho. 

He schedules dates for you and his friends. Usually by accident, but hear me out. Sometimes he’ll make plans with Armin, then forget that he has class or a test or something; so his solution is to text you, “hey, i forgot min and i were supposed to go some aquarium tomorrow but i have a midterm so here’s the pdf of my ticket, go with him for me, thanks babe love u” then, boop, you and Armin have an aquarium date Friday evening. 

The same thing happens with Mikasa, though, she usually catches the scheduling conflict before Eren does, and invites you out herself. You and Mikasa hang out quite a bit anyway, so it comes to the point where she tells you when she’s gonna hang out with Eren, so you can make yourself free for when he inevitably remember he has a game that day. 

Mikasa is most amazed that you’ve put up with Eren this long lmao. You’ve certainly lessened her Eren & Armin babysitting hours, and for that she’s eternally grateful. Also, she’s just happy to have another close friend. She loves Eren and Armin, but they’re not the most social beings, and she was literally their only friend besides the other for all their childhood PLEASE she’s so happy you’re around. 

It’s Mikasa, however, who babysits you and Eren whenever you both get too drunk. Says you guys are two peas in a pod (affectionate<2)

If you tell Eren something important that happened, like an internship you got, or a good grade in a class, or something, he usually relays that information to his mom pls. He texts her every day, and if she doesn’t ask for an update on you first, he gives her one.

Carla calls you sometimes, too. At least once every few weeks, just to check on you herself. She really likes you for Eren, and is grateful someone is willing to put up with her hotheaded son. 

Eren’s always using your fucking chapstick. Always. You know he has his own, so why he needs to use yours is beyond you. Finds time to make some dumbass comment about how it’s an “indirect kiss” every time he uses it too. Like bro, we’re dating, and have had many direct kisses why are you like this.

He posts on Instagram every few weeks or so, but you’re on his story every few days. Usually, it’s just a video of you minding your business and doing your work while Eren slowly zooms in before making some loud noise to surprise you, all so he can get your reaction on video and laugh at it. He’s annoying. 

He’s a bit of a copycat when it comes to the products you use. He’ll buy the same brand of pens as you (for that matter, all of his school supplies mirror yours because what does he know about the difference between A4 and A5 notebooks?), put a little hand sanitizer on his backpack like yours (and a lotion, too, for good measure), he even copies your Starbucks order until he finds one he likes for himself. It’s one of his love languages <3

If you’re wondering where your eyelash curler went, Eren stole it to try it on himself, hurt himself, vowed to never use it again, went back because he wanted to “do it right and not give up,” liked the results when he didn’t pinch his eyelid, and now it’s his. 

That being said, stop trying to put your Fenty lipgloss on him, it’s never going to happen. Eye makeup, maybe, only if you sit in his lap and he can have his hands on your ass while you do it. 

What he does love is letting you do his skincare. He will set aside dedicated skincare nights, he adores it. Easily one of his favorite things ever. 

You have his wallet. Not because he’s your sugar daddy or anything (although, if you want something, he’d definitely let you use his card to get it; and even if you bought something without asking, he wouldn’t think twice about it), but because he put it in your bag once and never took it out. 

When you tried to give it back, he just shook his head and told you to keep it, “I have my ID in my phone case anyway, and you’re less likely to lose it. Plus I put all my cards on Apple Pay, so I’m good.”

When you do make it to a game of his, he’s all over you when it’s over. Not in a cocky athlete boyfriend kind of way; in a very sleepy boyfriend kind of way. He’s usually got ice on at least one part of his body, and he’s got half his body weight on you as you walk to the car. 

By the time you guys get back to your place, he’s practically sleep walking. The only thing on his mind is taking a hot shower to soothe his muscles, and heading to bed. The aftermath of game days aren’t all that bad though, because even if you didn’t show, you’re always there to kiss him when he’s home and massage his shoulders, and cuddle him to sleep; and that’s his favorite part.