heathcliffd

[heathcliffd]

👁 

[heathcliffd]

i’m having The Worst Week but today should be my last day covering covid wards and i can kiss respiratory med goodbye and not have to deal with 45 patients all by myself lmao

[heathcliffd]

gay rights<3 @quismet​

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#you is a comedy

[heathcliffd]

what the hell happened? — @quismet.

when shirIey jackson wrote that people start to come apart in the suburbs, i did not think she meant this. yes, love, while you’re thumb-smudged up against three quarter inches of plexiglass, i’m left with eight fucking toes and a needle prick that’s starting to feel like the least of my problems. 

i’ve come to appreciate the importance of hobbies when everything else in my life is a goddamn prison. (you have your gardening — long, effortful hours wiping a bead of sweat from your brow and the dirt sloped down the side of your cheek. you ask me to watch henry while you plot away his only escape from norma fucking bates like you’re doing him a favour. i have my... interests. what am i, some hen-pecked sweater-vest bullshit excuse for a wall with ears that acts as a sounding board for your totally fucking batshit ideas of marriage and hope?)

            “couples’ counselling.”     the ring comes off with little resistance, and when i open the hatch to place it dead centre, i’m expecting something. (we both know it’s over. you feed yourself a thread about soulmates and hope that no-one rips out the anchor from the other side.)

the conrads have done a pretty good job on the box — mooney would roll in his grave if he’d seen the way the shelves had been trashed, but order is secondary to the bandaged red foot i’ve propped up against the desk opposite. you see, the problem, love, is that you tried to tame me. and i tried, for a while. for you, love. i let you in to this part of me. there’s a key rattling under the hearth of a support that always gave me the ripcord i’d needed, but i gave you everything you needed to turn me into this.

[heathcliffd]

👀      STALKER - ISH     SENTENCE     PROMPTS    !

triggering  /  nsfw   may  be  present ,  change  pronouns  as  needed .

“  are you following me? ”

“  i think i’m being followed, like everyday.  ”

“  maybe i’m crazy but i always feel like someone is watching me.  ”

“  i keep getting unknown texts and calls, it’s getting scary…   ”

“  isn’t that, like, you know, stalking?  ”

“  you know you are stalking them right?  ”

“  i’ve been hiding in the bushes, across the street, stalking you. ”

“  i’m not stalking you, just keeping up with you, is all.  ”

“  stop following me! ”

“  doesn’t that car follow you everyday?  ”

“  that’s like the fifth time i’ve seen you, with that car trailing behind. ”

“  this is going to sound weird but i think someone is following me.  ”

“  yup, i’ve been watching you for a while now. ”

“  look, i don’t know what your deal is, but quit it.   ”

“  it’s kind of not normal to keep getting repeated texts and calls from strangers.  ”

“  i can’t tell if this is harassment or stalking or both?  ”

“  i can’t help it, i just want to see you, talk to you, always.  ”

“  if you don’t stop trailing me, calling me, everything else, i’m calling the cops. ”

“  are we really hiding in the bushes, stalking this guy/girl?  ”

“  i can’t believe you followed her/him home. ”

“  i actually do stalk you, i know it’s not normal.  ”

“  how long have you been stalking me? and don’t lie.  ”

“  i know you’ve been stalking for sometime now but right now is not a good time.  ”

“  instead of following me around, trying to be sneaky, why not just come talk to me? ”

“  listen to me, someone was in my house last night.  ”

“  i know when someone’s been in my room, my things are missing. ”

“  what is that guy/girl staring at me like that? feel like i’m being murdered in their mind. ”

“  i can’t even sleep because when i wake up, stuff has been moved, my blankets. .   ”

“  i don’t feel very safe anymore, feel like i’m being messed with. ”

“  i can’t help it, i find myself out front of your house very often.  ”

“  okay, how do you know my name? how do you know where i live?  ”

“  look, i’m not up for playing whatever sick twisted game you want to play.  ”

“  are you the one that keeps calling me unknown? just breathing…   ”

“  the same breathing from the phone calls is what i hear at night in my room.  ”

“  if this keeps up, i’m afraid i might end up kidnapped. ”

“  i went to the police, they can’t do anything without a description. .  ”

“  these little notes were cute at first now they’re getting creepy…  ”

“  what the hell? who would a leave a note like that to someone?  ”

“  the notes, phone calls, texts, something is going on here. “

“  you’ve been being stalked for months and you’re just now saying something? ”

“  look, i know you think this is some cute anonymous kid with a crush but it’s not.  ”

“  so, what are you going to do? are you going to the police?  ”

“  i keep thinking that every person i know is this stalker. ”

“  why am i being watched and stalked? i literally do nothing! ”

“  have you told anyone about this? ”

“  what should i do, if i’m being stalked? ”

“  i know there is someone in the room, i just heard breathing. .  ”

“  whoever is stalking me, has been in my house, there are footprints in the closet. ”

“  i woke up with my window opened, in the middle of the night, someone is sneaking in.  ”

“  i am afraid to open my closet door now because i’m afraid whoever the stalker is, is in there.  ”

“  can i stay at your place tonight? i don’t feel comfortable in my own house anymore.  ”

“  seriously? i figured this person would’ve taken a hint and quit by now. ”

“  you know, this is going to end with you murdered or kidnapped if you keep quiet about it. ”

[heathcliffd]

why does joe’s clothes range from a pauper in victorian england and a lesbian

[heathcliffd]

YOU | 3.08 “Swing and a Miss”

[heathcliffd]

LOVE HAD MADE ME BLIND.

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@storymoved.

you chew on pen lids when you’re frustrated, and drum your fingers against the nearest copy of Iermontov’s  borodin.o  without any real intention of cracking the spine and suffering through stanza upon stanza of the lament of the human condition. (let me be the first to tell you, beck, you’re not missing out on much  —  i’d spotted it through your window three weeks back and spent the next seventy-two hours sifting through moone.y’s stock room to see if the battle of borodin.o has come to life in the dust and dribble of a heavily-organised back room.)

          but  unlike  the obscure russian poetry your creative lit class hails as the next coming of jesus with some niche, post-modernist pro-wank drivel, your work is both less boring, and entirely more comprehensible. i think you could make something of yourself here, beck, in a city that loves you half as much as i do. but to do that, you need me to take care of the rest of it.

                    “what are you thinking about? sorry. not to be forward. you just  —  you look stressed, that’s all. i wondered if i could help.”

[heathcliffd]

hello you 🧢 Happy COCKtober 🤪 it’s time to get spooky 👹 with your pookie 😏 yeah how about a trick AND a treat? 😲 on the 31st you better whip out that halloweener 😂 but be careful…don’t get ghosted! 👻😅 🔪

[heathcliffd]

creepy starter call 👁 

[heathcliffd]

you've taught me a lot, love, unsurprisingly about  love,   just not in the way you might hope. you've taught me about the cracks in the perfect glass, and the way that i can spend months sifting through your digital footprint — hey, it's not stalking when it's relevant to our current conversations about your close-knit circle of hippie-dippie soul-enriching friends who would rather walk barefoot and sing kumbaya at a vegan, cruelty-free, reuse-the-coffee-filter-five-times commune and don't believe in the wonders of deodorant because it... leaks toxins into your blood and causes spontaneous emphysema. or maybe that's just gabe. (he likes art, rocks, astrology, and he's about two steps away from a serious interest in the phrenology of fucking turtles or something equally as ridiculous and totally fucking insane.)

           what i'm trying to say, love, is that you find a new way of surprising me every single fucking day.

i mean — the whole batshit, bunny-boiling, killed-a-woman-with-your-bare-hands thing... who the fuck would've seen that coming?  fuck,  love, am i supposed to spend the next fifty years sweeping the bodies under our patio floor because someone told me i had nice eyes, or are you going to start feeding them to your fucking bakery customers like we haven't entered the fucking twilight zone?

i married the monster that lurks under your bed with one eye open and eldritch talons, because... well. because of  you.  sure, you're not the baby  girl  i was expecting, and for that, i am...  far  too sure that somewhere down the line, i'm gonna be  fucked  if you end up like all those guys i've saved people from (candace. beck. love.) but you're still every bit  me  as you are her. and when it came to names... we wanted something strong.  i  wanted something strong. i'm pretty sure your mom would've been content with starting you out with a bad coke habit and a flashy kimono like her brother, but i digress.

                                welcome to the world, h.enry quinn-goldber.g.

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joe smells like wet dog pass it on

[heathcliffd]

famestab​.

                   ❛            hi      ,      sorry      ..      do                you      work      here         ?         i’m       looking       for      something             specific.          ❜                      who       knew       this      elitist      suburban      hell       had       a             library.              a      small      one       at      that       ,      but      who      cared       ,      she      was       only       looking       for             one              book       ,      anyway.       tossing      dark      hair      over      her      shoulder      ,      the      pad      of       her              thumb              slid      along       the      underside      of      her       leather      purse              strap      ,             hung       loosely       ‘gainst       her      collarbone      as       she      fixed       the      man      with       a              lazy              glance.       sculpted      brow      twitched       ,                & the       movie      star       paused      ,       inclining       her       head      to       the      side       slightly.                     ❛            oh       ,      shit.      you’re       my             neighbor ,              right         ?         sorry       i      haven’t      said      hello       yet      ,      i’m      not       really       a             people      person.          ❜                      a      boldfaced       lie.      she              loved             the       attention       ,       she       loved       the      adoring      glow       her              fans              cast      on       her       ;      what      she              really              meant       was      she      didn’t      like       the       people             here. 

@heathcliffd​    !

this library, for all its orange-juice-sticky desks and peeled-off, bubblegum-stuck dust covers with spines that are just  crying out  for some cosmetic, reparative open heart surgery, is an oasis in the desert of the vapid white-mocha pumpkin-spiced-no-fat-allergen-eradicated yoga mommies whose stretch-marks are the he-who-shall-not-be-mentioned of a woman trying to have it all. is that a little harsh? after all, the more i look at my wife, the more i see that hellish gmo-free, hippie-dippie one-thousand% recyclable coffee cup bullshit that holds this community so tight in its clutches.

my wife. my wonderful, creative,  loving  wife. she’s the one you should be apologising to, not me  —  i go to work. i look after forty (fuck!  HENRY).  i change diapers and punish myself for those bad, ugly parts that i’ve been trying to leave behind in LA. you see, because  i  don’t particularly care for the tray-baked lasagne and the house-warming lemon cookies (all vegan, all shitty) but my wife? well. she’s a little less forgiving.

    “oh, i wouldn’t worry too much about that. i’m a book person, so. back at ya. i’m joe. what can i help you with, neighbour?”

        i’m joe and i’m an addict  —  well. maybe  addict  is a little too strong. i have fought to leash that monster to my white picket fence, and then in walks  you.