#or technically the day before yesterday since it's past midnight here

[adw520]

cant sleep because i cant stop thinking about how the mechanic was a bit of an asshole to me for no reason when i got my car finally taken in

[stormblessed95]

230328 Jimin Live Stream

Jimin is such a cutie and a precious soul. I'll mostly just focus on the jikook moments/comments though in this post rather than talk about everything/break things down. Not necessarily in order either, just me throwing down the major plot points in a post. Lol

Jimin started a live on his way home titled thank you. He mentioned that he noticed that JK did a live yesterday or technically the same day too since it went past midnight. Lol and that JK spent the live Watching all his videos. “I saw Jungkook-ie watched a lot of my videos yesterday hehe. Ah! a live 1h 40m long” he is so cute I swear. Lol knowing he watched JK Missing him like that 😭🥺

And then JK popped up in the comments and then proceeded to spam the chat the whole rest of the live. Lol it was ADORABLE. Here are good threads of just all his comments

The way JK asked jimin what he was thankful for and Jimins first confusion before remembering that he named his live "thank you." Lol but the way JK said it in very informal language and tone. You'd only ever speak to your hyung that way knowing it's okay and that he was okay with it. It's just consistent with them since always and speaks sooo clearly of how close they are.

The way ARMY threw JK under the bus so fast, sharing about his weverse photo change. It was only there for a minute! Lol

He can't NOT gush about them. It's so cute

Finally going to get to spend more time together after promotions are over 😭😭

No because he really said, when I'm less busy, I'm coming over asap and you will cook for me. Cook ramyeon for me. And JK just immediately gave us that "anything for you" attitude. I MELTED. I TELL YOU

The way he giggles and talks to JK while replying to his comments 😭 my heart!

Trans of the above with JKs comments added in too

It's the way he says it's been ESTABLISHED that im your fan. For me. Yes, we all know that Jungkook is Jimins BIGGEST fan and he has made it very clear. Especially with his little 100 minute live dedicated to said hyung right before this. Lmfao

And the satoori. Because it's them, talking to each other. You know they slip into that all the damn time together. And getting all informal.

And the way Jimin laughs and lightly scolds him for not sleeping when sleepy but instead dancing his choreo and being silly and JK just screams his name (informally) in the chat. Hyungs biggest fan indeed!

And the way that Jimin told us indirectly since it was really just him reassuring JK who was pouting about missing going to any of Jimins prerecorded shows with him that he had been to Jimins rehearsals so it was okay. And I'm just 😭 WE TOLD YALL that they were clearly Still spending some time together, as much as they could. And yet because they are so busy with solo promotions too, it's CLEARLY NOT ENOUGH TIME. They got too used to living in each other's pockets and still want that. Lol I love them.

And the way that Jimin all softly told us that it felt like he could hear JKs voice when reading his comments. IM GOING TO CRY. They love and miss each other SO FREAKING MUCH it's insane. These busy schedules are killer!

And ending with this person's added observations because HONESTLY YES. JK isn't the only one who indicates their closeness and intimacy with how he talks to and about Jimin.

The way K jkkrs were losing their shit yesterday. So many talk spaces titled "no, they are really dating for real" after these lives. Lmfao. Just... they way they talk to and about each other is so wonderful to get to witness every so often. I love them so much it hurts.

[bonesaftonistired]

I'm starting to realize that I'm not the only dysfunctional adult here whose parents didn't teach them enough things before kicking them out of the nest, so here's a few tips I've learned through trial and error over the last three years since I turned 18

1. The cold's gonna start hurting your bones eventually, invest in heated blankets to use during the cold months. This is especially important for people who were accident prone kids and had a lot of broken bones, sprains,and twisted wrists/ankles

2. FOOD IS FUEL. I know when you were a teenager, you could probably survive a whole day on just instant ramen and a couple bags of chips, but that is NOT true anymore. You can still enjoy foods you love though, just don't make it your whole diet. Add some veggies and a little meat to your ramen, spice it up and try new things, but try to have at least two meals a day with a couple snacks. Three meals is better though, trust me

3. I promise you, your bacon doesn't need flipped nearly as much as you think it needs flipped as long as you're cooking it on medium-low heat like you should be. Also, put it in the pan cold and let it heat up gradually, otherwise it might stick before it can let out enough bacon grease to slide

4. You are not a failure just because you can't find it in you to be as productive today as you were yesterday. It's okay to let yourself rest

5. Don't try to get your whole house clean in one go, you'll never do it. Break it up into smaller tasks, and take a 15 minute break in between tasks to get some water and maybe a snack

6. HYDRATE!! I know, I know, tea, coffee, soda, juice, etc all taste good and technically have water in them. They don't hydrate nearly as much as the real thing, though. You can add fruit and ice to make it taste better if you really can't take just plain water though! Nobody's stopping you!

7. For god's sake, go to bed at a reasonable time for when you plan to wake up. At least 8-9 hours a night, which sounds like a lot of planning but it really isn't! If you need to get up at 9 am, go ahead and stay awake til midnight. But if you're getting up at 6 am for work? Try to be in bed by 10 pm

8. Caffeine is not your friend past 7 pm, I know you need to get that paper done but you'll be so much better off if you make time during the day for it than staying up into the wee hours of the night with enough caffeine in your system to kill a horse. It'll throw you off balance and make your brain produce even more melatonin to counteract it and try and force you asleep, which just means you'll be that much more exhausted in the morning

Most importantly, just remember you aren't the only one with your problems. You aren't alone. And you've got this ❤

[elliothier]

A happy 26th birthday from the fun year of 2021, future me! It is nearly 1am as I write this, just at the start of my official birthday, unlike last year when it was midnight at the end of the day.

So, let’s start things off with how things have been going. Today we temporarily move out to get the renovations done in the house -- I hope this is the only time renovations will be a Bother, you can laugh bitterly if they continued past these 5 weeks, it’s okay -- so I anticipate not necessarily having enough time to write this out later. Or, y’know, my brain might just be entirely dead, because today has been quite eventful in its stead!

The day (yesterday, technically, the 24th) started off with the local grandparents vising for the bday, and you know how that is, she’s loud, which is perfectly fine, but hell on the waking eardrums. We had that 25-50-75 party on the 3rd this year if you remember that, but forgot to take a picture, so I brought that up and we did that. Gran fussed over not having lipstick on, mom cleaned hers off and offered it, and for the hell of it I joined in and for the picture all three of us were wearing the same lipstick. Very fun! Luke came by later as well to pick up his stuff, brought along a gf, which was lovely meeting her. I’d say we vibed.

And then, the main event. Well, first some gaming in between, A Dance of Fire and Ice, got 4 achievements today! Beat world 12, perfectly, then world 3 speed, and world 6 speed, which I barely completed in time for D&D. That’s right, just like last year, D&D plays a role, we were still on voice when the day rolled over and I couldn’t wish for a better start.

We were on a halloween one-shot (part 2), the Death House, where I got to play with Courage and made his instrument a kazoo. It was glorious. He was still possessed when we started, making him extra terrified and throw a minor tantrum when it became evident we had to go to the basement. Ace had to convince him to go down, scaring him with ghost stories of what could happen if he didn’t join them, which worked. Oh, how the table turns. Further in Ace first scares the crap out of Courage to pick the lock on the chest he was trying to open and steal the treasure from under his nose. Mini was nice, at least, but Courage really did not like Ace for that move. And then even further, in the very depths, the two of them get to the central platform when figures appear, chanting that “one must die”. Ace was the only one to realize what’s going on and immediately turned on Courage, trying to kill him and very nearly succeeding, living on 1 HP! Ka bit his ankles, but Mini tried to persuade the monster in the corner to devour Ace. It woke up. And Ace ran tf away, informing them that was the very reason he was trying to sacrifice Courage as it would devour them all. All make it out, barely, but phew! What a session! Including requested kazoo send-offs for the ghosts of the couple that owned the house.

Phew, that was a long story, but I had such a good time I had to remind you of it. I haven’t even shared it with Emily yet, but I will, probably after this. Today will probably suck, but the early celebration at least I would say has been a success. And no, there has been no new instrument this year (djembe last year, guitar the year before), but I did improve at guitar playing this year, so there’s that! I hope that by now the music room has been fully set up and has seen some use. I’d say plenty of use, but let’s be realistic here, yeah? A couple of sessions is already nice.

So how are you? Has the day been treating you well? Will the day be treating you well? What about the year? I had my correction shortly after last birthday, that’s recovered decently, I hope the scars have faded more since. Oh, and I started at the workplace that teaches coding a few weeks ago, been there 3 times now and do think I like it. Very curious to see how that will pan out in the long term. Came out as enby there too, reflexively, but hey they sure do try. Oh, did His Dark Materials season 3 come out yet? I’m looking forward to that, if it didn’t come out yet surely it will soon!

So anyway, after that exciting day, I hope you’ll have a similarly good experience either today or the day before or somewhere in the vicinity! And I hope you are very much starting to thrive, in whatever way that may be 💚

Now to write something for The Box, I sure hope I didn’t forget about that last year 😂

[jodilin65]

TUESDAY, AUGUST 31, 1999 Tom’s gone to an award meeting at a place where they’re gonna be giving out stuff to their top employees. I couldn’t go, though. I guess they don’t allow employees to take anyone they know.

Believe it or not, I’m still on a schedule. Even an hour and a half behind the usual 7:30 I’ve been getting up (sometimes 8:30). The two nights before last, I hadn’t slept well at all. Nothing woke me up, but I kept waking up on my own, either to pee or just because, so I was getting kind of tired. I was sleeping erratically, too. Two nights ago I sleep from around midnight to 5:30, then for about a half-hour at 8:30, then I ended up taking a two-hour nap from 5 PM-7 PM, so I thought I’d screw up my schedule for sure by needing to catch up if I could sleep straight through which I needed and hoped to do. Well, last night, I still managed to crash at around midnight, thanks to the Melatonin, and I only woke once, fell right back asleep, then got up for good at 6:00. Technically, I won’t need to be on a schedule for the next week or so, but I want to keep it going as long as I can. I’m curious to see how long I can keep it up. I also don’t feel comfortable sleeping during more of the hours when that Ranchero could come blasting in, like today, for example. That pickup hasn’t been there all night and all day so far, which means the Ranchero’s more likely to come banging in sometime in the afternoon or evening.

I was astonished to see that next door recycled shit yesterday. They were always too lazy to in the past.

We went by three schools that were just letting out yesterday (I can’t believe they start school so early out here!) and I swear to God, not one kid was white. Everywhere I look, it’s mostly Mexicans, then blacks, then white. What is this world coming to? Tom says whites are still the vast majority, but you could’ve fooled me. I feel like they’re running us out and that we’re gonna be totally overrun with non-whites before too long. It’s both sad and scary.

They’re still trashing our yard. And theirs, too. They’re not necessarily deliberately throwing their beer cans and juice cartons in our yard, but they leave them littered all over their yard, so when we have dust storms, the wind carries their shit over here. They’re such filthy shits! Total trash. I mean, they really are filthy pigs! If I’d heard someone say that without having firsthand experience with them and seeing how they live with my own eyes and ears, I’d be like - how can you say something so mean! But it’s true. It’s so true that they really are filthy, lazy, dirty, sloppy, messy, stupid, rude, sick, inconsiderate, scummy, lying little waste products!

Yeah, well, we’re outa here in just 27 days or a little less, you shitfucks! The apartment is gonna be much worse, though, cuz the noise there will be more consistent, since next door does give me a few days of peace here and there, believe it or not, but at least we’ll be out of here and I can get all my mail out.

Can’t wait for Ciara! At least I know I’ll be awake when she comes.

SUNDAY, AUGUST 29, 1999 As far as I know, the weekend’s been quiet. I try to keep the stereo on in the bedroom when I’m in there and in the living room when I’m in there like I am now.

The cream pickup returned some time last night or today. It’s been out front all day and doesn’t look like it’s moved. Like I said, the trips in and out have cut way down. I’m sure they’ll go in spurts. It’s at a lull right now.

The gold car came and went today, which neither of us heard, and also a shiny, silver pickup.

Friday night I had a moment’s worry for a while there, when I looked out and saw that along with the red car, a white car was out front, too. I hadn’t seen one vehicle all day till I saw these two at 7:00, and I was like, oh no. That’s that white car that banged in and out back when we talked with them. Now it’s gonna live here all weekend and be banging in and out. Well, I was only partially right, thank God. I never heard music, and it didn’t stay there all weekend like before (if it was even the same car) but it did stay overnight Friday night.

So, they didn’t wake me up, but I sure did wake up a zillion times last night, and I get so sick of this 4-hour shit! I have periods where for many nights in a row I wake up just 4 hours after I went to bed and it takes me an hour to get back to sleep.

Tom trimmed the palm trees in back and is napping now till I have to get him up for work.

We talked and lay together in bed reading, but I was right; he is taking to his advantage the fact that we don’t have to have sex regularly. He could’ve made time for it over the weekend, but fortunately, he didn’t bother me with it just like I figured would be the case. I only say “fortunately” cuz I need a break from the same old same old.

He kept his word and tried to order Sekarina, but she’s sold out, so Ciara’s coming instead! She should be here by the 2nd. She’s coming by air instead of ground. I still think I may be able to get Sekarina in the future, though, or else I’d think her item number response would’ve said, “no longer available” instead of “sold out.” Either that or be assigned to a new doll (the item number). Fortunately, they keep them around for a while cuz there are others out there like me who can’t just get something the instant they see it.

I’m hoping to get Sekarina and Chyna when we leave here, then when we get into the new house, I’ll try for those two Indian dolls from Ashton-Drake and a doll from the mall. I might buy a doll kit with any birthday/Christmas money I may get.

We had a huge storm during the late afternoon a couple of days ago that knocked the satellite signal out. I thought the thunder was a stereo at first, cuz these car stereos sound exactly like thunder. But it didn’t leak! How nice of God to sit back and watch us struggle with this leak and not be able to fix it till we get all the way up to right before we move.

Still can’t believe we got such a high offer for this house. Like Tom says, it’s like we were paid to live here.

Mary offered to take the animals if need be, which was very nice of her. Most people would never offer to do something like that.

Earlier, when Tom and I were reading, certain emotions the girl in my book was experiencing were oh so familiar to me that it brought tears of bad memories to my eyes. Tom, being the patient, loving, supportive, caring, understanding guy that he is, listened to me as I told him how I could remember being excited about things that shouldn’t be the biggest thing a 17-year-old gets excited about, like when Art would come to visit me at Valleyhead (if he wasn’t snowbound). It also went the other way around where I was bummed out about things no 17-year-old should have to be concerned with. I remember the feelings of being trapped, helpless, and having no control all too well.

Tom was such a good listener, and as I told him, he’s the most non-selfish person I’ve ever known. The only thing he’s ever considered himself more so than me (which he didn’t deny) was when it came to having a kid.

Saturday’s trip was so nice with the AC! We looked at a few pieces of land, and like I told him, the first 10-acre lot we looked at is ours! I just know it. I had an instant, strong vibe about it that said, “We’re home.” It was so beautiful, but I’m not gonna really get into being descriptive about it till my vibe is proven right and we actually buy the land. The only catch is that if we buy 10 acres, we may have to sell about 3 acres or so if the property taxes get way over our heads. Tom said that even so, there should still be plenty of room for them too, and they shouldn’t bother us. Like I said, God will find a way to bring noise to me anywhere I go, but there’s no way it could be as noisy there as it can get here. Not even close.

FRIDAY, AUGUST 27, 1999 I have both wonderful and shocking news!

First, I went and got my retainers. Yes, they are way better than braces, although trying to talk with these things is a nightmare. Melanie said that her first week with the retainers was like - oh God! But then she got used to them. True, cuz when you hear her talk, you’d never know she had anything in her mouth. It’s also hard to drink with these things. The bottom ones make swallowing hard and the top ones make talking hard. I was a little sore at first, and still am, but I don’t have any irritation like I did with the braces.

The designs aren’t as nice as I hoped they’d be. The tie-dye colors aren’t as nice as I thought they’d be, and the pink glitter’s not as shiny as I thought it’d be. I should’ve gotten the musical notes and the ants. Yes, you heard right. I did say ants. They just looked so cool and so lifelike. At least I’m getting used to how they feel in my mouth. They’re nothing compared to braces. If having braces is like having your appendix burst, having retainers is like getting an ear canal cleaned.

Melanie sure does look much better with makeup. Yesterday she had pretty much no makeup on and she looked almost plain.

I told her I tried to get my hair into two French braids like she had hers, but couldn’t do it. I can only do one. She explained how she did it, which was how I tried to do it, but I guess I have to practice some more.

Unfortunately, I can’t have either gum or Tic-Tacs with the retainers. Not so much because they stick, but because it’s awfully awkward to chew gum with the way the retainers stick to the roof of your mouth. I don’t really like the idea of having mints or things like that that I can’t feel in my mouth when I wear these things. I don’t have to go back to see Mel and have my fillings done till September 27th, the same day we have to be out of here. Yes, we got an incredible, unbelievable, mind-boggling offer of $83,500!

First, the Ranchero shocked the shit out of me by coming and going quietly last night at around 10:00. It was too dark to see if the driver was her or him, but I still couldn’t believe it. You know how it is - when you’re moving they quiet down, but when you don’t know when you’re moving and aren’t moving they’re noisy. I’m not saying that I won’t hear from them during our last month here, cuz I know much better than that. Also, the cream pickup wasn’t around when the Ranchero was here. That’s how it usually works. The cream pick-up was here late in the afternoon, but it’s been gone ever since. The red car was in and out yesterday, too.

At around 8:00 this morning, earlier than I’ve ever seen it here, I saw the blue pickup take off. Whether or not it lives here now and stood overnight, beats me.

Tom said he read statistics that said that this area has the least amount of kids. I’m surprised. You’d think God would put me where they were most plentiful. Then again, most of the houses we can see from ours have no kids, and of course, the two that do have to be right next to us (next door and next to next door). Tom said that when he was doing the roof, he discovered an oriental family with tons of little kids two houses down, which is like three houses down with W. Weldon in the way, towards the other side of us.

We received the whole $1000 back that we had given Leona.

This has got to be the longest time I haven’t heard from Andy. We’re talking two weeks now. I didn’t say anything about his little phone call the first day the house was listed (I’ll mention that in his mail), but I called last night to tell him of the offer we got and that the house is off the market, so he can call directly anytime now. I haven’t heard from him, and believe me, if I don’t hear from him, I’m not leaving any more messages. I don’t know if he went and dumped me knowing I would anyway, or if he’s busy as all hell, or what, but if he did dump me, then I guess that’s good. That way I won’t feel as guilty about dumping him. Nonetheless, I don’t want him to call me if he doesn’t want to while we’re still here. I don’t want to make him do anything he doesn’t want to do.

I can’t believe I’ve been on a schedule for nearly two weeks!

Later…

Tom just left after coming home to eat, gather up the loan papers, have me type a quick note to enclose, and look at the property listings he picked up this morning. He’s gone to drop the loan papers off now and pick up my meds.

The mountain house is still for sale, and the ad we liked best was for a 10-acre secluded corner lot that’s rigged with utilities. He’s gonna go back tomorrow to see about buying that, then he’s gonna contact Steven who’s gonna bring the contractor in the next day.

Someone’s gonna come within the next ten days to do a home inspection in this house. It looks like we are gonna dodge fencing the pool, after all. Great!

If this deal goes through - and it better - I’ll be able to get Chyna too, and have her, Sekarina, Pine Leaf, Sacajawea, Ciara, and whatever I get at the doll store I got Bailey at. I just hope the Indian dolls and the ones from the shopping channel will still be available. I can’t wait for them and to return to the store I got Bailey at!

After just one week and two showings, someone wants this house! It is the couple who last looked at it to be buying it and we were just so shocked to learn that they put $23,000 down already! Also, it’s so weird how they barely looked at the house. They never went into any closets or anything. I really think they’re gonna rent it. I hope so. They seem way too nice to live here, but if they do, maybe they’ll be able to tolerate next door’s shit. Whatever happens, it’s not our problem or responsibility.

The catch, though, is that there’s a very good chance that we will have to be in an apartment for about a month, but fine. Anywhere but here next to these freeloaders! We’re gonna sneak the animals in, cuz it’d take them at least a month as it is to evict us, so let them evict us if they catch us with them.

I’m also excited that I can finally send my mail out in a month!

I wonder - was God having next door’s shit dumped on us as our compensation for getting such a big offer on the house and being able to get the stuff on the list for the new house, the computer stuff he wants, and an extra doll for me, too?

Poor Tom. He’s had just a few hours of sleep for many days now, but now he can finally catch up. He just went into the bedroom, and when I’m ready for bed, he’ll move to the couch. I have his stereo on out in the living room that’s even more powerful than mine, so I’ll be less apt to hear the Ranchero just as soon as it’s back to its old shit, but I don’t care! We’re out of here in just one month! As long as they don’t steal my sleep. They haven’t yet, but you never know what to expect on weekends. Anything can happen anytime, but weekends are worse, cuz it ups the chances of anyone banging by.

THURSDAY, AUGUST 26, 1999 I was too bummed out to write for a while there, but now I’m in a good frame of mind to write.

Let me go in order of how the events unfolded.

First, at Osco, before coming home to listen to the cunt in the Ranchero, we got an electric toothbrush. It’s great. Melanie recommended it, saying it helps vibrate plaque and tartar off. Well, it sure does remind you of being in a dentist’s office with the way it vibrates. The cool thing about it is that we can both use it. It’s got separate brushes you attach to it, with colored rings to know which brush is whose. Naturally, he’s blue and I’m pink.

The best thing I got there, although that toothbrush sure was a fine investment to help kick this cavity crisis once and for all, was a 16” doll that was only $15. I got a lot of doll for just $15, too. She’s my cheapest one too, next to my first one which I stole while at the Vista. It’s hard to believe I have other dolls about her size, give or take an inch or two, that aren’t as nicely dressed and cost around $80 like Sunshine and Lollipops.

She didn’t come with a name, but I’m sure she had one that was on the box that Osco took her out of before setting her on a shelf, so I named her Ashley, and I also renamed my first no-name doll Katie, since Mystery is my nickname, and since I’ll probably end up with several no-names over the years.

When I first walked towards the shelf I noticed the other doll they had first which was a couple of inches bigger, thinking, oh good. I can finally have a black doll. However, her eyes looked totally phony up close, although her hair and her mint green dress were nice enough. She was $25.

Ashley has green eyes and long brown hair which was in two braids. I took it down, though, and brushed it out. Amazingly, she didn’t have anything on her head. No hats, bonnets, feathers, flowers, anything. Although her imitation leather shoes and purse are an ugly shade of dark green, her outfit really is nice. She has white stockings, and a pine green velvet dress with a white pinafore (blue, green, and white really are the most common doll colors!). At least I think it’s called a pinafore. It’s a white, lace-trimmed apron-like thing with straps that go over the shoulders. There’s lace that puffs out at the shoulders, as well as at the hem of the pinafore and at the sleeves of the green velvet dress. The velvet feels nice. I put my heart necklace on her and she looks quite dazzling for such a small cheap doll. She looks like she could be on her way to a fancy Christmas party. She needed some work, though. I polished her nails dark purple to give her hands definition and make it look like she had barely visible nails. I also glued the latch on her purse that tore off and wiped some dark smudges off her face. What’s weird, though, is that she has glued on and painted upper lashes. Usually, it’s one or the other and not both.

I put Bailey, Maria, and Ashley in a big box, so I’ll have just four doll boxes and one loose doll (Sekarina) when we move.

Fortunately, the cream pickup did come back yesterday, as did the red car. The red car didn’t stay there all night, though. I also saw a red pickup over there I’ve never seen before, but the Ranchero took yesterday off, thank God.

Tom suggested I don’t go skinny dipping even at night cuz he’s caught next door peering over the wall many times. Many times? Not that I don’t believe it, but I’ve only caught them looking over once and it was too dark to see for sure who it was. He said he’s seen both kids and adults looking over and he says it’s cuz they’re nosy and perverted, wanting to see me naked in the pool, but I also think it’s cuz they’re looking to see what they can steal. Amazingly, though, they haven’t stolen anything yet (they’d sure get a good laugh and be disappointed with all this flab and all these craters!).

Tom got the AC fixed in the car yesterday! It’ll be so nice not to have to sweat my way to Melanie’s today! I just hope God lets the car be OK till at least after we’re moved and are a little bit settled.

While he was having the AC fixed, he walked to the mall to get a 5-year battery for this really beautiful Gucci watch Dureen gave me, which he said the guy admired like crazy. He panicked when it came time to pay for the AC repair cuz he didn’t have his credit card. It turns out, though, that he left it at the jewelry store. He also said the AC people were so nice, cuz they told him he could take the car, get the card, then come back and pay them, but it turned out he didn’t have to. That’s cuz he had the account number on the receipt from the watch battery.

Later…

Yesterday Tom called and left a message with Steven. Instead of him calling back, he sent a couple with a male realtor to look at the house without even calling first, but at least someone was looking. They were a white, middle-aged couple who seemed very nice. The woman, who resembled Norah a little, seemed easy-going, and the guy was very complimentary towards the house. I couldn’t imagine any woman, though, wanting this house.

So, Steven did end up calling later on, but not until after he was asleep. He was so dead to the world that he didn’t hear the phone, so he contacted him this morning from work or Mary’s house. According to Steve, although we agreed not to get our hopes up, he’s got an offer on the house for us. We should’ve told Steven up front what our limit as far as offers go is so that he wouldn’t waste anyone’s time with something like a $50,000 offer.

We both think it’s the couple that came to see it yesterday since the fem didn’t seem interested and since it’s been a week since he’s seen the place. If the offer’s good and from the couple that was here yesterday - great. I want to get out of here. However, I feel a little bad for them. They seem too nice to be living next to a pack of wild freeloaders.

After he gets done taking care of our daughter, he’s gonna finish filling out the loan stuff in between her appointments and mine and do it at Mel’s if he has to, then we’re gonna drop them off. As soon as we get in, he’s gonna call Steven and he’s gonna come over and present the offer to us. Do I have any vibes? Not really. All I can say is that the numbers 71, 72, and 76 come to mind, but I don’t know if that’s connected with this offer or not. It may not even have to do with the house at all.

WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 25, 1999 Tom and I had a pleasant talk after I last wrote, and here’s what we agreed to do. He’s hopefully getting the car AC fixed right now, and then he’s gonna call Steven when he gets in to get the price slashed and the sign out, which I can’t wait to show off to the freeloaders like I was supposed to last week. If that still doesn’t work, then we’ll just take whatever we can get for this house, and settle if that means getting out of here. We’ll just grab a ready-made 3-bedroom off of some manufactured home dealer’s lot, forget buying new furniture, dolls, etc., and just get the fuck out of here before I end up killing these freeloaders. Life is nothing but one big settlement and not getting what you want anyway, and he agrees with me, so fuck buying new stuff for the new house. We’ll just take what we’ve got here for furniture and use that in the new house, as dumpy as most of it is. I just can’t stay here the many more months it’d take to sell this house at a high enough price to get furniture and dolls. Tom offered to buy me all the dolls I want right now if that’s the key to making me feel like I have some say over my life, but I’m not a selfish off-brand. I wouldn’t just hog the money like that which we need for moving and not let him have any fun, either. If he can’t get stuff, neither can I. The number one thing is getting the fuck out of here and if the price I have to pay for doing that means giving up the material things I want, so be it.

He says next door’s not running my life, they’re disrupting it, but I’m sorry, they’re about as close to running it as they can get. Because of them, I have to sleep with music on and have music on when I’m awake that I don’t necessarily want on. They’ve stolen my peace and they might’ve stolen our dream home and that furniture and doll list too, although I will be getting Sekarina this weekend as far as I know unless he’s full of shit and doesn’t order her like he didn’t order the CDs.

I’m using my old portable CD player to sleep with that Steve gave me ten years ago, since my stereo stalls from time to time. He offered to get a new stereo for me or that CD changer. That’s nice of him, but for now, I’ll just use my old box and see what happens. I’d prefer to get most of the stuff we want after we move, but like I said, it doesn’t look like that’s gonna happen if this house won’t hurry up and sell at a decent price. We can’t even begin to sell something no one will come look at.

Again, as we both agreed, life’s not what we want, so I’m seriously considering quitting this story-writing I’ve been doing. Why should I bother? I won’t be allowed to do anything I want with it, so why should I make a fool of myself and waste my time trying to be successful with it while God’s at my side doing everything he can to see that I fail?

Later…

The cream pickup hasn’t been here all day. An extremely bad sign. One saying that the ranchero will definitely be here every day sometime between 2:30-7:00, so I’ll be forced to choose between listening to its music or mine. Naturally, I’d rather listen to my own if I’m gonna be forced to listen to music.

I wish Tom would hurry up and get home so he can call Steven.

I saw those figurines at Osco yesterday and decided they just weren’t that impressive the second time around, so I didn’t get any. They just didn’t have enough color. They had other figurines I had seen before that were nice, but again, the colors were dull.

I did get a birthday card for his mom.

TUESDAY, AUGUST 24, 1999 It happened again. AAA Taxi came next door, although this time it was a white guy who pulled into the driveway. He got out, went to the house, came back, then left without taking anyone with him. Weird.

The furniture truck didn’t spend the night there last night, and the Ranchero is still taking a break, thank God!

I can’t believe I’ve kept a schedule for over a week now. In the past, when I couldn’t fall asleep till later and would want to go to sleep earlier the next night, I couldn’t. However, last night I fell asleep two hours earlier like I had hoped to. If it turns out I can really keep a schedule, then the only thing about motherhood I couldn’t have handled would be the kid itself, besides carrying it and having it. That’d be nice to know, but I still want to keep it just us two, and I know God will see to it that although I may not get 98% of my wishes, I will get this one. It’s a done deal. Something I know I don’t even have to pray for. Regardless of what a woman wants/doesn’t want, she can count on her intuition to know these things.

Later…

Here I was worried about kids coming in and trashing the place when what I really have to worry about is someone - anyone - coming to see the house in the first place! I do have a show vibe for today, though, so I changed the animals and tidied up really well.

Today my teeth are a little sore. I guess it took a while for all the pressure to catch up to them. Also, I’d say that the most cursed tooth on the bottom which was the furthest off from being straight, has started to shift back slightly. I hope there won’t be a problem fitting the retainer, but I guess they should know what they’re doing. I guess that if they thought my teeth shouldn’t be free of anything for a few days, then they wouldn’t be. It’s just that Kathy told me something that made me wonder how they could let the teeth be free for a few days. Maybe Kathy was exaggerating just so I’d be faithful with using the retainer, but she told me that if I took it out upon waking up and left it out all day, it could be a very tight fit that night when I went to put the retainer in. If that’s all it takes, then why are they letting me go for three days with nothing? Maybe it was different for Kathy, who said her teeth were so bad she had to have braces for four years. How lucky I am, then, to only have had the top for 16 months and the bottom for 8 months.

Later…

I’ll have my company keep it down, my ass! Yeah, the fucking Ranchero just blasted in. It was that kid with her two kids, not the cock. I knew, though, that they were lying through their teeth when they told the cops they’d have their company keep it down. They lie about everything, the fucking lazy, rude, selfish, sick, fucks. Ooooooooh, I want to kill them sooooo bad!!! Fucking, motherfucking freeloaders, I hate you all!!!

Well, since Tom can’t stick to doing anything we agree to do and we can’t call that non-emergency number, I’ll just keep my headphones on for the rest of the day, cuz I know it’s gonna bang in and out and in and out. Hey, didn’t I just say that the peace won’t last? I know how these fuckers operate. They may be quiet for a few days, then it’s right back to the same old shit. They just don’t care and they’re just gonna do what they want and what they want only. They think they own the world.

Why must I always pay for every little good thing I get in life? Why?! I was out enjoying myself with Tom and I got a $15 doll, an electric toothbrush for us both, and some barbecued ribs, and now God just has to compensate me with next door’s shit. He just has to! He just can’t let assholes like this leave me the fuck alone! I’m tired of him allowing people to fuck with me like this when I never did a damn thing to them to deserve it in the first place.

Later…

I told Tom I was going to call that number, cuz I was just too pissed off and wasn’t about to take this for another God knows how many more months. To make matters even worse, my stereo had to stall out on me again. It’s working now, but lately, it’s been hit or miss with the fucking thing. It’s like something up there is saying, “I want you to listen to their music! You must!” Well, why must I? Huh? Is it really that important to God that I be forced to listen to neighbor’s noise, not be allowed the right to ignore them, and have to sleep with music on the way I do and hope it drowns theirs out? Is it really fair? Is it really what I deserve? Why is God so hateful, controlling, and vengeful? I just want to be left alone! Why has that been too much to ask for since 1992?!

Anyway, when I called the number the woman said she could send a cop out to talk to them, but they could just turn the music back on when they left, so I should file a formal complaint and prosecute. I told her to forget it cuz by then we just may be lucky enough to be out of here. Tom, though, didn’t handle it very well, as usual, making me feel like I did wrong by telling her to forget it. He said he wasn’t trying to blame me for anything, it’s just that I used poor judgment. I guess he thinks I should’ve gone through with it. However, as far as I was concerned these things take too long, anyway, and may not be effective. This is why I told her to forget it. He said that it depends and that not all complaints go to court. Yeah, well, just forget it. I know God would make sure it took a lot longer than it will for us to get out of here, anyway, so what’s the point? He just refuses to help me help myself, so fuck it.

OK, God, you won. And so did your freeloaders. You happy? I’ll just live with whatever they do, and not bother to bitch to Tom if he’s gonna get all stressed out and paranoid. Besides, maybe if I just take it, God will go easier on me when we move. Maybe if I quit trying to fight him on the things he wants dished out to me, not that I could fight, he’ll just lay off me. I also don’t need to be making Tom all nervous, paranoid, and emotional in any way, so I’ll just take it. Maybe we’ll be out of here before the year’s out, and maybe things really will be quieter where we’re going.

Tom’s insisting he’s gonna call Steven tomorrow to tell him we’ve only had one showing, then slash the price next week, and get a for-sale sign, and then contact the mayor, but I know the mayor part of it, city, government, or whoever he says he’ll call is pure bullshit. He doesn’t want to deal with it. Period. And therefore, he’s not gonna do shit about next door. Fine then, but again, I hate it when he says he’s gonna do something he doesn’t do and tells me a whole new plan every week. He’s always got this bullshit story to tell me just to hold me over till we move. That’s what he’s had in mind to do all along - tell me one bullshit story after another and make one excuse after another each time I bitch about next door till we move. Well, I still say that the city is overwhelmed with these kinds of complaints and has other more important things to do, as far as they’re concerned, and that bitching to cities, governments, cops, courts, mayors, etc., won’t do shit.

Meanwhile, I’m tired of my CD player stalling, so I moved the cordless headphones, the freeloaders nearly made me break in my anger and frustration of being forced to live with their noise harassment, into the living room so I can listen to music from the satellite with no commercials (till God ends up being the one to break the headphones). It’s good how the songs overlap each other, but if I want to listen to music without going into the bedroom to use my stereo, I may have to listen to a song I either don’t like or don’t know. I hate being controlled like this! Fucking freeloaders!!!! I’m so fucking sick of them disrupting my life, stressing me out, pissing me off, and coming between my husband and I!

MONDAY, AUGUST 23, 1999 The braces are off!!! My teeth look great. The only thing I don’t like is that uphill climb from right to left on the bottom, and how they’re naturally pretty yellow. I’m gonna get them bleached one of these days, although they charge $500. I think it’ll be worth it, though, as long as it lasts longer than two weeks.

Tisha, the secretary, was joking with me when I first came in saying she heard I wanted to keep my braces.

Charlene’s not working there anymore. There’s a new hygienist there named Kathy. She’s nice, but her hairstyle is pitiful. It’s really short all over except for the sides. She has these long scraggly strands at the sides and it looks quite ridiculous.

She asked if I was excited and I said that I was psyched to finally be swapping in one misery for another, but she said it wasn’t like that. She said retainers were no big deal. That’s not what Mel says. Well, everyone’s different, so we’ll see.

The whole appointment took nearly two hours, and of course, it felt like I was there all day. It’s definitely easier getting braces put on than taken off, but at least you don’t have your mouth on fire for four days afterward. Kathy popped the brackets off, which didn’t tickle. It only took a couple of minutes to get them off, and most of them popped right off, but a couple were a little stubborn. After that, she had to drill and scrape like hell for what seemed like forever. I got my face splattered with water and mist, I choked on saliva and swallowed wrong a few times, I got my gums poked and bloodied, and the bonding reeked like hell as she drilled it off. It looked like I was exhaling smoke and it even smelled smoky. When she was scaling the cement at some points, it sent cold shivers through me.

After she polished me up and took x-rays, it was into Mel’s room where she took impressions. I didn’t realize I’d have to have that done again, but as she said, they couldn’t fit the retainers to my old ones. She did a better job than Anne did and I didn’t feel like I was gonna gag this time.

Then the doc came in, checked me over, and man, he just does not like to answer questions! I asked how many cavities I had and it took him forever to tell me I had three up top and a few downstairs that were just starting that they’re gonna keep a watch on (but I know this means I’ll have to have them filled at some point).

I asked him if it were common to have so many cavities with braces and he said it varies, but that yes, it’ll be much easier to clean my teeth with the braces off. Mel says she hasn’t had a cavity since she was ten years old. Lucky her!

Mel gave me my new toothbrush, a little tube of toothpaste, and some floss. It’s so much easier to floss my teeth now that they’re straight. It’s so nice to have smooth teeth and not have to deal with wax and knobs poking and irritating me. My teeth are smoother compared to what they were when I had brackets, although the surface of my teeth is still a bit coarse and seems to have been stripped of their enamel cuz of all the filing they had to do. I’m surprised I’m not sore due to all the pulling she had to do to pop the brackets.

Mel showed me a little photo album of the different designs you can get for retainers. I was shocked at all the choices. They even had ants! I picked pink glitter for the top and a tie-dye design for the bottom. They had musical notes I almost got, and they had butterflies and other cute things. Mel said I could probably get mice or rats put on, but because I wanted the glitter, which would’ve covered it, I didn’t get that. I like bright, shiny, and colorful things. What I didn’t realize was that they don’t just give you retainers the day the braces come off. It takes a few days to make them, so we’re gonna go get them Thursday. Poor Tom has to take his mother to two appointments that same day. I hate it when she gets in the way of our plans, but he says it’ll be no problem. I hope so, cuz I really get tired of feeling like she’s our daughter more than our mother/mother-in-law. One of the many reasons I don’t want a child is so I can be free of the restrictions/responsibilities it’d bring. We need time to take care of our own affairs too, and I just wish more family members would pitch in and do their fair share of taking care of her. Everything’s gotta be on Tom or Mary. Nonetheless, I’m gonna enjoy these few days of having absolutely nothing in my mouth.

He’s got a lot to do this week. Tomorrow he has to take the car in for the AC to be fixed and hopefully they’ll fix it without breaking something else along the way and charging a fortune, but either way, something else will break on that car soon enough. We’re totally cursed with cars.

Wednesday we may go out to get me those barbecued spareribs I miss so much, Ma’s final birthday card (I hope), an electric toothbrush, which Mel recommends for vibrating plaque/tartar off, and whatever else we may need.

Thursday he’s gotta deal with three appointments, and I forgot which day he said he was gonna call Steven, but we’ve got to get this house discounted or else we’ll never get out of here. We still may have a hell of a time even with a discount and I really think I’ll be here to turn 34.

As I told Tom, I’m thankful for all his support throughout the braces and for his taking the time to take me to the appointments.

I’m looking forward to ordering Sekarina this weekend (hopefully), and I’ve suggested he talk to someone live so he can tell them that twice they’ve said we’d receive dolls in ten days, which was total BS, and see what he can do to ensure that they get here on time.

Later…

I went for a quick dip in the pool at dusk after the bees turned in for the night. I was amazed at how quiet it was. I’m amazed at how quiet it’s been for the last few days, actually, and if the freeloaders could be like they have been for the last few days while we’re still here, things would be fine. I know better, though.

Typical poor, lazy freeloaders - get this: instead of having any blinds, shades, curtains, or anything like that in their living room window, guess what they’ve got hanging there? A floral sheet or towel. It might be an old blanket, but I’d say it’s a sheet.

Also, not that I’m complaining, since they weren’t hurting anything, but just to prove my point about when I said that they think they own this neighborhood - last night at 11:00, the red car drove over a corner of our yard in order to get by the pickup and into their driveway. Well, there’s nothing but good old desert dirt on that corner, so fine, as long as they keep their trash to themselves. For a while now, they have, cuz when they do hang out front, it’s been on the street. But they just totally think they own this neighborhood and can do any fucking thing they want. They think they can drive in people’s yards, put the garbage can where they want, blast music, etc. I still can’t believe, though, that I haven’t seen anyone or heard any music since last Thursday. They’re definitely night people most of the time since the pickup doesn’t move till sundown, but even then, it’s not going in and out a million times like it used to. Well, I’m just gonna enjoy the peace cuz it won’t last.

Got a ton of jokes from Kim. Like 22 messages from her. Most of them were good and I forwarded the ones I liked best to Tom and Evie.

SUNDAY, AUGUST 22, 1999 I’m still managing to get up at 7:30 with the alarm. A couple of nights ago, I started taking Melatonin again. That natural substance that’s supposed to help with sleep. I learned that just because the Nicorette didn’t work the first time, didn’t mean it wouldn’t work the second time. So, I’m applying that lesson to the Melatonin. It worked at first, but then it seemed useless the last time I used it. Well, we’ll see how long it’s helpful to me this time around.

I’m surprised how mellow next door’s been (that I know of) this weekend. I expected them to loiter out front, as usual, but they didn’t. I also didn’t see any vehicles visiting last night, but I was out by 10:00, rather early for a pack of wild freeloaders.

My theory has been right so far - the return of the cream pickup has lessened the Ranchero’s visits. I think this is because the fat tub of shit’s been around more, and she seems to be half and half. Meaning, half the time she doesn’t give a fuck about loud music, but the other half, she wonders if it would be smart to risk eviction. And I have to agree with Tom - I think yes, they are rude to anyone in general, but I also think they like to go one-on-one like they have with me. I think some of their shit is aimed at me, and some they’d do anyway regardless of who was around and who did/didn’t complain.

Last night they took a break, but the two or three nights before that I heard a few loud, deliberate door slams coming from the carport. I’m almost certain this was done by fatty, too. This, for example, had to have been aimed at me. Well, it won’t work as far as waking me up goes. The blacks already tried that when that bitch and her boy toy would slam doors real loud over and over and over.

I haven’t seen the silver car come or go and I really think that’s broken too, along with the van. But now we have 4 vehicles living there - the silver car, the van, the furniture truck, and the cream pickup (I hope the pickup stays). Like I said, why doesn’t she just have everyone she knows move in? Why not have the blue pickup move in, too? And the striped van? And the gold car? And everybody?

I like how the pickup has been blocking their driveway. That way the Ranchero can’t pull up in between the houses, even if it is still too loud from the street, anyway. They’re doing this cuz the furniture truck and the pickup together are too long to be in front of just their yard. I’m surprised they had the decency to block their driveway and not the one next to them since their driveway is adjacent to their yard. Ours, though, is a yard away, fortunately. I don’t imagine that they will, but that’s fine if they want to block our driveway, cuz we’ll just have the vehicle that’s blocking it towed.

I can’t believe how much the constant trips in and out have cut down for the most part. There are some days when vehicles go in and out, but I only saw the pickup make one trip yesterday. Deb and some beefy guy with a shag that’s connected to the furniture truck made the trip.

Since fatso likes cops, I’m making a point of putting bullshit accusations on every other page, so that each piece of paper accuses her of doing something like beating us up, vandalizing the house, cussing us out, yelling racial slurs, etc. This way, if she does decide to run to the cops, she can’t show them anything I’ve written that’s true without them seeing these bullshit accusations too, which won’t make her look very good. She may not care, though, but let her show it to the cops. It’s the same thing I say with the blacks, cuz I know the laws. I know they can’t do anything to me for what I’ve written. If I did something to them, that’d be different. Cops act on actions, not words.

Yesterday was absolutely ridiculous - no one came to see the house. No one! And Tom said the weekend would bring more people and Steven said we’d have a lot of showings. Bull fucking shit! I told Tom we’re never gonna get out of here till we take 10 or 20 thousand off the price, and he said that when we do cut the price it’ll sell in a day (yeah, right!). Also, people are more interested in houses that have been discounted, rather than that start off cheaper. If they start off cheaper, it’ll make people think there’s something wrong with the house. He still swears we’ll be out of here in two months, but I don’t know if I trust him. I’ve seen him be off on his timetables way too many times, and overestimate things way too often. He still insists it’s important for us to wait till after next weekend before we slash the price and that having only one person look at the place in four days is normal. Especially in the first four days it’s been listed. Well, we’ll see, but I’m starting to wonder if I’ll be turning 34 in this house. It’s been delayed a few months at a time since last March, so why not keep on delaying it? We can’t make anyone want to buy this house no matter what the price is, and God could see to it that no one wants it if he wanted to. I would hope he wouldn’t do that to us, though, and that he’d take a break from his let’s-stick-Jodi-with-neighbor’s-noise obsession. There’ll still be noise in the new place and I think we’ve been here long enough and have worked hard enough to move. We deserve to move on now!

As I told Tom, though, the fem wasn’t the least bit impressed. He said no one’s gonna be “impressed.” They gonna say that this will do. Yeah, that makes sense, since this certainly is no impressive house.

I made a point of mentioning several times to Tom how good it is to know I can go weeks in between sex without getting irritated. Why? So he’ll use that to his advantage which would also be to my advantage. Although I said we could have sex as often as he wants, and although he says he wants more sex, I know better by his actions. He has a very low sex drive. And so do I. Therefore, telling him we don’t have to worry about going too long and getting me irritated, will lead to his not initiating sex for weeks at a time for some reason or another, and that’ll suit me well, too. It’ll give me a break from the same old, predictable boring shit.

He says he still thinks I can and will conceive naturally. You mean he still believes that shit?! Good, God! I asked him how many years it’d take for him to see that, fortunately, since I do prefer life over a child, I can’t conceive. He said six more. Oh, so he needs over a decade to believe me, huh? I think he’ll be forever in denial. He’s a very arrogant, stubborn guy at times, who’s obsessed with disagreeing with me. When I’m 60, he’ll be telling me I could’ve conceived, but that I just didn’t, which would be a joke cuz people either can and do conceive, or they can’t and don’t conceive. I can’t conceive, I never will, and I’ve never been wrong about that yet, so why should I start? Deep down, though, I don’t think he really believes I’ll conceive someday. I think he just says that so he can disagree with me, but that deep down, he knows I won’t cuz I haven’t yet, and cuz he knows he’s gonna hardly ever cum.

There’s another thing I don’t understand - why hasn’t God inflicted me with female problems? Why did he see to it Tom had a low sex drive? Why did he see to it that he rarely came? These things just don’t fit into someone who’s destined to be forever childless whether or not she wants to be. I know God doesn’t have to do anything to carry out his plans for us, and fate is fate no matter what, but you’d still think he’d have me have to have a hysterectomy, or that Tom wouldn’t be able to get hard at all. The only way Tom’s sexual ways would make sense would be if God did have it in our cards to have a kid, but he just wanted us to wait, and since we know that’s not the case, how do Tom’s ways fit in? I guess it’s a separate issue, although he is how he is just like I am how I am. My low drive and lack of cumming, though, don’t matter and is irrelevant cuz a woman can still screw when she’s not totally in the mood, and she doesn’t need to cum to conceive.

Later…

So far, nothing’s gone on next door since I’ve been up. The furniture truck hasn’t moved, the cream pickup went out once, and the blue pickup visited, and that’s all. The blue pickup parked on the street, too. The cream pickup’s in front of their driveway, the furniture truck’s in front of their yard just behind it, and I guess the blue pickup managed to squeeze in behind that with no trouble.

I just hope Deb sticks around as much as I hate her flabby guts, cuz there’s definitely much less music when she’s here. The house stereo would only be loud when she was out, except for when they had their big bash upon moving in, and the Ranchero basically only comes around when she’s not here. This is why I think that for the most part, Deb would prefer the music to be kept down so there’s no shit between us for her to have to deal with, but then there are some times when she just doesn’t give a fuck and feels the need to rebel every now and then. Just to know you’ve done something you know someone doesn’t like even for just a minute or two, can mean a lot to you if you’re the type of assholes they are.

Tom’s slowly, but surely getting over his cold which I’ve managed to escape catching so far. I was pissed at him earlier for his typical shit - not being able to find stuff cuz he’s gotta be such a disorganized slob. We can’t find our tax returns for ‘97 and ‘98, but he says he’ll find them somewhere. Well, he better or he better get copies or find some other alternative, cuz we need to get the fuck out of here. I can’t wait for the next weekend to hurry up and pass by so we can slash the price on this house! We’re never gonna get out of here in two months at this rate!

I suggested to Tom that we deserve a break what with the delays, setbacks, and shit we’ve had to deal with, and that we should get at least one thing we want that we were gonna get upon moving. Of course, he had to make me wait a week first, but he agreed that we can order one thing next weekend. I don’t know what he’ll get, but I’m getting Sekarina!

I wish I had begun my story years ago, even though I couldn’t write back then like I can now, cuz by now we just may’ve had enough money to have escaped having to deal with a herd of Mormons, only to end up trading them in for blacks and Mexicans, although I’d take those Mormon’s back any day! They didn’t do loud stereos, in houses or cars.

I keep trying to reason with myself about the writing and tell myself I’m kidding myself if I think it can amount to anything, but I can’t help but feel I’m destined to make something of it. I know it’s silly to even think for a minute that I could, even if my writing isn’t too bad. My singing’s not too bad either, and yet I thought I was going to end up doing something with that. Just because you’re good at something doesn’t mean you’re destined to be doing it, I keep trying to remind myself, even if you have the means to do something that you didn’t in the past. Meaning, I didn’t have the know-how, money, or connections to break into the music business, but it’s a little different with writing. Today, I have the essentials for writing, even though that won’t change a damn thing if I’m right about not being destined for any kind of fame, fortune or success, and God not wanting me to do something I choose that’s non-material. Look at Andy’s friend Donna. She can sing just as well as Linda Ronstadt and other famous people out there, yet she still can’t make it in that business (maybe cuz she’s so big?). Well, I’ll just go with the flow, so to speak, and not let what I believe stop me. I’m trying to be more correct about it, of course. Trying to stay away from words like cuz and gonna unless that’s part of how a person talks or it just fits into the story somehow. I also prefer to do shorter chapters than fewer longer ones.

Later…

I can’t stand all these spiders I find every day! I find 3-5 a day and I can’t wait to get out of Spider Kingdom! I was in the bathroom when I felt what I thought was a hair tickling the side of my arm, but when I reached around to take hold of it, it was a spider on its web. Gross! Fortunately, it fell right in the toilet. We can’t bomb cuz God just had to let our AC break when we’ve got enough shit to deal with already, and I don’t know if my animals could take the heat like that. I just wish God would quit letting us get hit with delays and just let us out of here! God, just let us out of here and make true those that say you help those that help themselves.

The blue pickup came back for round two, and I think it’s out there right now for the third time today, but it’s too dark now to say for sure. It’s definitely not the Ranchero. Stick around, you fat tub of shit!

SATURDAY, AUGUST 21, 1999 I hope that furniture truck hurries up and moves. A truck with graffiti on it won't look very good for prospective buyers.

I was stunned to get all the way up to 9:00 at night without seeing one car come in and without seeing the pickup move. After that, though, I saw the red car and the furniture truck out front and also saw that the pickup had finally been in and out. There was some other vehicle parked in front of the furniture truck after the red car left, but I can't say what it was. It was too dark to make out.

FRIDAY, AUGUST 20, 1999 Yes! So far so good. Tisha called to confirm my Monday appointment. Can I still have this appointment, though, or come early Monday morning am I gonna receive a call saying there’s a problem? Well, if he plays games with me yet again, I’m out of there.

When the Ranchero came back for the second time, I headed into the bedroom for the remainder of the day with the fan and stereo on. At some point, it left and the red car and the striped van came in. So my guess was right - the Ranchero cock wanted to see its cunt before Deb and Chester arrived. Anyway, after the Ranchero, red car, and the striped van left, the furniture truck and the cream pickup arrived for the night.

Here I was bitching about Deb and Chester being jobless and lazy, but if going back to being home all day means getting this cunt out of that house who’s obviously helping out with the kids while they work (or at least Chester works) and therefore causing the Ranchero’s visits to drop back to 2 days a week instead of 6, then that’s what I wish to hell would happen. I’m hoping to hell the cream pickup is back full-time cuz I have a feeling that if it is, that’ll keep the Ranchero away more often.

What I wonder is - when’s the Ranchero gonna move in, too? Why don’t they just have everyone they know move in? They visit enough to live there.

I’ve taken shit from neighbors since 1992 and I really, really resent God for allowing it to go on like it has year after year. I don’t see what I did to deserve it and there’s no doubt in my mind that something up there is hell-bent on me having to deal with neighbor’s noise. No one happens to accidentally get this unlucky and end up next to noisy people like this 8 straight years in a row. It was definitely meant to be. That’s why, as much as Tom says I’m crazy and dead wrong, I know that even if we move to a so-called secluded spot, God will still find a way to harass me with teenagers and their stereos driving by the nearest road to us, and I still say there’ll be kids and dogs to listen to too, if not nearly as close by and as loud as I’ve heard them be here. It will never end. Never. No matter where I go, God’s got it in for me noise-wise. His 80s theme for me was definitely funny farms that are little more than drug havens and prisons that call themselves residential schools. The 90s theme was the neighbor’s noise. So what will the next decade be? I’m afraid to know the answer, but it won’t be long till I find out. If I’m right about his having it in for me with the noise from here on out, no matter where I go, then the theme of every decade I have left on earth will be noise.

I’m also upset with Tom for being the typical liar that he is. He’s always got an excuse ready for why he has to back out of something we agreed on. I knew he wasn’t going to contact the mayor when he said he was going to, and I know he won’t contact the mayor in the future. I should’ve known that when I said I wanted to call that non-emergency number and have them have to deal with cops showing up at their door every time they blast in and out, that he’d have an excuse as to why we shouldn’t and that I should trust him to get us out of here. Well, I don’t trust him. Not when he lies and makes excuses like he has ever since I’ve known him. How can such a wonderful man be not only such a slob but such a liar and a procrastinator? Why couldn’t he tell me from day one that it’s not his nature to cum, or that he just didn’t want to with me for whatever reason? Why couldn’t he tell me he’d deal with it if it happened, but that he’d rather not have a kid? Why did he say he’d order those CDs when he knew he wasn’t going to? He’s a fucking pathological liar (who has another one of his famous colds that I’m sure I’ll be getting, too)!

He also contradicts himself too much. First he says he’ll contact the mayor if there’s a problem selling the house, but now he says we have to get the contract first before we go calling any cops or mayors.

Also, he said next door was rude to anyone in general and that they don’t even consider me when they do their shit, but then in the next breath he said things were worse cuz I yelled at them. No, things are worse cuz the girlfriend of the cock that drives the Ranchero is staying there alone a lot. Yes, they do like having conflict and enemies, but if they wanted to aim shit at me they could have more car stereos going in and out for longer periods of time and they could blast music from the house. There’s much more they could do than have the Ranchero visit 6 days a week instead of 2.

I don’t know if getting a sign out front would be such a good idea after all, cuz I can’t be so sure like Tom is, that they’d want us to go. Remember, these people love conflict. They live to make enemies. So why would they want us to go when they know the music bothers us? Why risk new neighbors who just might not complain and give them the fight that they totally get off on?

I just feel bad for those kids. Right now they may be all sweet and innocent, but someday they’re gonna grow up to be just like their rude, selfish, sick, scum parents, using race as a crutch. Nobody will like them and the few “friends” they do have will be carbon copies of themselves. They too, will be just as fucked and will cry racism every time they have a problem with someone.

I not only have to hope and pray that the house sells fast and that they let me sleep (especially on Friday and Saturday nights), but that they shut up when people are here checking out the house. I never should’ve wasted my time politely asking them to turn their music down or cussing them out about it. I knew it wouldn’t get me anywhere but to vent my steam directly at them which would only be temporary till they shit on me again. I mean, what can I do? Go over there and say, “Look, I know you hate my guts for asking you to turn the music down, however reasonable a request that may be, but if you want us to go, then kindly shut up so we can sell the house, OK?” Yeah, right! And like I said, I’m not so sure they’d be happy to see us go. I don’t think they want us to go.

No wonder I didn’t feel like it was over when the blacks left. Because it wasn’t over. We just switched from blacks to Mexicans being the source of trouble, that’s all.

Later…

That was weird. Some guy just parked his car in front of our house and took Polaroid snapshots of the house across the street and the one next to it. Does that have something to do with our house being for sale? Is it to show what houses are near us?

Later…

Unfortunately, there’s been no calls yet to show the house, and I know yesterday’s fem was not the least bit impressed with this house.

I’m surprised we’re already almost up to 11:00 and the cream pickup hasn’t moved yet. I’m also surprised there have been no sales calls, but I’ll bet you anything the first one of the day will come in the next 15 minutes.

Later…

It’s almost 1:00 and the pickup’s still in place and no phone calls have come. This isn’t good. I sure don’t feel like the house is up for sale with no signs or people looking. I hope Tom’s right about the weekend bringing more people.

Tom just brought up a very good point - that some people who look at this house may not mind loud music coming and going. True. Very true. Well, then I just hope God sends us those that don’t give a damn, or at least keep next door quiet if they do.

THURSDAY, AUGUST 19, 1999 I still set my alarm for 7:30 even though our house isn’t for sale after all. I had to if I want to make my Monday appointment. Of course, there’s still the chance that they won’t make it, but so far, no call’s come to play the rescheduling game.

Tom mowed yesterday and went up into the attic for what was hopefully the last time to bring down bowls, towels, and old bomb cans.

The Ranchero took the night off from visiting yesterday. I doubt the red car, which came and went a few more times that I know of, stayed overnight, but the furniture truck did. So that’s gonna live there now, too?

God, I hate the unpredictability when it comes to next door! They follow some type of pattern or routine for a few days, then it’s anything goes. Anything can happen, any time of day over there. You never know what vehicles you’re going to see and when. You never know what you’re going to hear and when. Although I would think it was unlikely at this hour, the Ranchero, or a car I’ve never seen before, could come blasting in really loud right now. For a while there, it had gone pretty dormant traffic-wise during the daytime, but yesterday was just like the weekend or the evenings usually are. So many cars came and went.

I hope Tom won’t wait till tomorrow and that he’ll call today and find out why our house isn’t for sale when it’s supposed to be.

Later…

I hope that when we move, our AC will be more temperature-sensitive. This AC needs to be turned up as it gets hotter and turned down as it gets cooler. I hope that as the sun comes up in the new place, the thing will run more often on its own, and less often as the sun sets.

Tom just called. He’s planning on stopping at someplace to get a part for the broken car AC, then when he gets home, he’s gonna look online to see if the house is listed. He said he’ll call them today if it’s not. He thinks it is, though, and that it takes time for things to get rolling, even though we don’t have a sign, and that the weekend is gonna be when there are more people out house-hunting.

Well, I finished the prologue and the first chapter of my story. It’s definitely going to take about a year to complete this story if I can at all. I don’t know why I’m doing this. I just feel it’s destined. I’m supposed to be doing this. Yet it makes no sense. Why would God let me be an author? I’m not destined to be rich, famous, or successful. As I learned, just because I was attracted to women didn’t mean God wanted me to be with one. And just because I had a fairly decent voice didn’t mean God wanted me to be a singer. And just because I was with a man didn’t mean he wanted me to have a kid. He hasn’t let me do the things I chose to do that weren’t material in the past, so why should he start now? Well, nonetheless, I’m just gonna go with the flow of whatever’s fated to be. That’s all any of us can do. I’m gonna try to write this story, and if I like how it comes out, I’m going to try to get it published. That’s all for now. I’m actually kind of enjoying writing this story as slow as it’s progressing. Tom says that’s normal, though, and that he’ll help me get it out there. If I finish the story to get out there in the first place, which I don’t expect to do in this house for two reasons. Because there are more distractions here, and because I shouldn’t have time to finish it here if someone would just get the fuck out to the house to check it out and buy it!

Later…

It’s listed! It’s listed! A Betty with Southwest Properties just called wanting to show the house between 1:00 and 2:00. No problem!

Later…

Fucking Goddamn liar! Our first call was a no-show. Tom said to expect that. Makes sense. If they can bullshit you with false promises of seeing you or calling you in bars and other places, why not do it in real estate? Of course, there’s always the chance that they drove by and didn’t like what they saw, so they didn’t bother to come in. I suppose that the no-shows will be more often than not.

The freeloaders are hanging out laundry on their back block wall. What’s wrong with their clothesline? Too many people for that little line, huh?

Today’s been like it usually is during the daytime these days; not a car in sight.

We went online and saw our house listed there. It’s the cheapest one in this area with a pool.

Tom said we should be getting the lockbox. A box with a key to this house in it that the Realtor uses when we’re not home. I doubt no one will be home, though, when and if someone finally comes to see the house.

Also, he said it’s common for them not to put up signs right away. They’ll do it when it’s an efficient time, he says. He says it’s not the Realtor doing it, but someone who works at it part-time to make extra money.

Later…

Well, the realtor did make it over here after all. She came with her fem client after 3:00. He never said a word about the house. Tom said that’s common, though, for them not to say anything to the owners. They wait till they’re alone with the Realtors before they talk.

I agree with Tom - most gay guys aren’t very handy unless they have a more masculine boyfriend. If you ask me, this is a total bachelor’s house. It’s too small for kids, and I’d think most women wouldn’t like the looks of it, but guys are less picky about things like that.

Right after they left, and I mean right after, the fucking cock in the Ranchero came in, bass hammering. In the driveway too, the motherfucking cock! It was so close to the realtor, and oh God, did I want to let them have it! Aaarrrrrrrrgggggggghhhhh!!!!!!! I HATE welfare bums!!!!!!!!!!!! I fucking hate them, man I’ll tell you!

I’m just so afraid they’re gonna ruin it for us. Stay out of our way, you fucking scum-sucking freeloaders! Tom says that if a realtor can’t sell a place cuz of their shit, they’ll complain, and since the mayor’s up for re-election, the last thing he needs is realtors complaining. This will force the city to do something like maybe buy this house (so only the same scum that does the same thing ends up here).

I disagree. I think there are enough other houses for realtors to make money off of, and I think the mayor could care less. As for the city, they won’t do shit. They’ve totally given up on next door.

I do agree with him, though, when he says he thinks it’s a boyfriend/girlfriend thing. The cock that’s been coming in the Ranchero almost every day has something to do with Deb’s not being there. I think that the cock’s girlfriend, who’s probably Chester’s or Deb’s sister or cousin, has been staying there to help out with the kids and that that’s who the cock’s been coming to see. Yeah, well one way or the other, I’m gonna make sure they get theirs when I leave here. I’m not finished with them and I’m not gonna just walk away like a little wimp. I’ll be back, freeloaders! I’m gonna torture the fuck out of these little shits! I’ll scatter popcorn all over their yard to not only make a mess but to attract ants, I’ll throw nails all over the driveway to puncture their tires, whatever!

I have the headphones on now, but according to Tom, the Ranchero blasted in again. If it’s blasted in twice a day during the week, imagine how it’ll be during the weekend! The weekend’s when we’re gonna have more people here and this isn’t gonna look good. They’re gonna totally get in the way and ruin it for us, and I totally disagree with Tom when he says there’s something we can do about it. There’s nothing we can do about it. Nothing at all! I’m gonna end up killing these people before we get out of here, and I’m telling you, that’s the only way. The only way to shut people up and take care of a problem is to do it yourself. The system is too fucked up to be of any help.

Tom goes on and on about how he appreciates my control, but it can’t last forever. How far do you think you can push someone before they snap? They can only put so much pressure on me, and I’m telling you, they’re gonna get themselves killed. If not by me, then by someone. Whoever does the deed, though, will be doing the world a lotta good.

WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 18, 1999 The moment I’ve been waiting for for over 5 years has come! Today this old house is for sale!!

I can’t believe I haven’t heard from Andy in about a week! No response to my two reminders about not calling directly between certain hours, or his opinion on the start of my story, which I’ll get into in a minute. It’s almost like he’s gone from going out of his way to call me, to going out of his way to avoid calling me. He knows. He really knows.

Chester arrived in the striped van around 5:00. I thought, good. Now the Ranchero won’t be banging in this evening, but it did. At 6:00. It came in at a volume I’d say was between soft and medium, but I didn’t hear it leave at all. It didn’t stay as long as yesterday, fortunately, and as far as I know, it was only here once. Still, I’m not looking forward to the fact that this thing is gonna be here on a daily basis.

Still no cream pickup, but the furniture truck decided to crash there overnight last night. It’s on the street right now.

I only slept from 10 PM-3:45 AM due to the excitement of the house going up for sale today. It was weird waking up to find light faintly glowing through the sides of the shades, and I thought it was weird that I slept till sunup, till I realized it was the streetlight glowing in. Without the blocks, it doesn’t get pitch dark in there.

We did a ton of work around here yesterday. The poor guy got only a few hours of sleep before having to go to work tonight after being up for 22 hours. I worry about his heart, and you know how God is, always ready to kill good people who are way too young to die. And he does it so suddenly too, without much warning to anyone. I just hope that if something ever goes wrong with him, he can fix it in time. Furthermore, I hope and pray to God, no matter how much he may hate me as well as love me, that my husband isn’t the one to die first!

I suggested he play hooky for just one night since he hasn’t taken a day off in years, but he wants to have a good attendance record when he puts in for days.

They still have Ciara in stock. They aired her two more times.

Sekarina has taken Chyna’s place. This doll is gorgeous! She’s a 32” sitting Indonesian doll with long black hair and a gorgeous, realistic face. She doesn’t come in a pretty pink dress, but she’s beautiful. She’s $188, and I hope I can get her! So far, I’d say my chances of Ciara, Tiffany, Chyna, and Sekarina being available in 2-3 months are excellent, although I’ll have to choose between one tall doll and one that’s not so tall. If I can’t get Ciara, I’ll try for Tiffany. If I can’t get Sekarina, I’ll try for Chyna. If I can’t get any of them, I’ll start all over again and begin a new hunt.

The story I mentioned a few paragraphs ago, is the supernatural suspense story I started a couple of days ago, believe it or not. Yeah, you might be looking at the next Ruby Jean Jensen! I’m amazed at how well it’s started out so far. Basically, it’s one of those typical ghost stories. After the little girl dies in the fire, a new family will move into the house she died in after it’s fixed up, and her spirit will haunt the house. I’ve used Tom’s name and my dolls’ names for characters. I’ll get into it in more detail later.

For a while there, I was hardly hearing from Evie, but now we’re back to the daily messages. All about the kids and church. Things I can’t relate to and don’t want to relate to.

I wonder what time today they’ll pick up the dumpster. Before the for sale sign goes up, I hope.

Later…

A city pickup just arrived next door. OK, you naïve, sucker, you gonna put two and two together this time when you see the silver car and the van in the carport? You gonna realize for once and for all that there are people living there that aren’t supposed to and that the ones who are have vehicles they’re not supposed to have? No. Of course not! They’ve gotten so many complaints regarding that house, they’re sick of it, so they’ve just given up. Gonna let them do whatever the fuck they want to.

I knew it. I fucking knew it. I knew the day the house went up for sale the constant sales calls would start up again.

Later…

Thanks for the call, Andy. It’s nice to know you’re such a true friend I can count on to do me a simple little favor and not call direct at certain times. I knew it, too. I just knew the opposite-doer would call. Anything to rebel. He’s obsessed with doing the opposite of what I ask of him. This was the first private call we’ve gotten since he called me over a week ago. He didn’t say anything, just hung on the line till I hung up, but I know it was him.

The dumpster was picked up a few minutes ago. Now I’m anxiously awaiting the sign!

Later…

Still no sign up and if there isn’t by now, I’d say there won’t be one at all today. What’d they do? Go and put the sign in front of N. 21 Dr.? Botch up the paperwork? Tom said that if they don’t put it up tomorrow either, he’ll call them and also ask about those options Steven forgot to leave for us.

The blue pickup’s been next door twice today and a red car’s there right now. Another 4 hours or so and I’ll have to listen to the Ranchero blast in.

Later…

The blue pickup just came in for the third time today. Why the need for all this company? I mean, really! I know no one associated with next door works, but why does everyone have to come running over here every single fucking day of the week? Can’t they take a day off and either have no company or go to them? Jesus!

Today’s turning out to be a real bummer. No sign, no calls, no nothing. I did get some more pictures online, and I could work on my story, but I’d rather wait and do most of it, even if it takes a year, in the new house. There are too many distractions around here at certain times of the day.

Later…

What the fuck is going on next door? It’s daytime! Like I said, the blue pickup came in for the third time, then a white car came and went, and now a red car’s here again, but I don’t think it’s the same red car as what I saw earlier. The red car just backed out on the street to let the blue pickup out. If they’ve had this much company in the afternoon, the evening’s gonna be a circus over there!

I really feel like shit now. Today was supposed to be a happy day, but instead I feel miserable. I feel like Century 21 has forgotten all about us. I’m like, gee thanks, Steve. Thanks for doing a wonderful job and for making what was supposed to be a great day a depressing one.

Also, Intergroup’s fucking around again sending me a bill for the spit doctor I went to see who cleaned my ear out. Don’t these people know to just bill Intergroup? I hate Intergroup and can’t wait to have Cigna again! This billing me for shit my insurance is supposed to pay for didn’t start till after I bitched out Dr. Brown for ignoring my calls. Is there a connection? Is she having this done to spite me? Can she even do things like this?

The red car just left driven by some cock with the fatso in the passenger seat. I still don’t think she’s been staying there. As for Chester working, now I’m not sure cuz I didn’t see him get picked up today. We’re just a couple of hours away from the Ranchero.

And she’s back again, the lying sack of fat!

TUESDAY, AUGUST 17, 1999 I have a few things to update on, but not as much time right now.

I fell asleep at around 11:00 last night with the help of Benadryl. I got up at 7:30 when my alarm went off so I could be ready for the dumpster, should it come before he gets in. It hasn’t come yet. God, I hope they don’t come at 5:00!

I told Andy I’d remind him right before it’s time to stop all direct calls to me from 8 AM-8 PM. Later tonight, I’ll remind him that that’s in effect as of tomorrow. I told him to let me know if he thinks he might forget, cuz then I can just go ahead and block his number out, but he can still use the message-send thing. If he does call me, I’ll just block him out and be done with him then and there.

Later…

Just thought I’d take a break, although I don’t have much else to do. I vacuumed, mopped the kitchen floor, changed the animals, straightened up, and now all I have to do is wipe down the bathroom.

Humpty Dumpster arrived at 9:30, a few minutes before Tom got home. He’s out in the garage filling it up now.

Good news and bad news. The good news is that no, we’re not responsible for fencing the pool cuz we don’t have kids under 6. If the next people do, though, it’s their responsibility to fence the thing. For once, something in life that’s fair! The bad news is that Tom just found termites out back, but hopefully, he killed them off well enough so that they don’t interfere with the selling of this house.

I’ll be on my own Thursday with anyone looking at the house cuz he has to take Mom to an appointment. Tom said just stay out of the way and let them roam around on their own in case they want to talk in private. Not if there are little kids in tow. I’ll have to follow if there is and keep tabs on the kids since their parents won’t. I hope the realtor is wary of this too, and that she’ll keep tabs on the kids as well, knowing how destructive they are and how careless and oblivious most parents are when it comes to their kid’s shit.

Tom took the sound blocks out. I was right about spider nests. I knew something was going on in that room as far as spiders were concerned. There were a bunch of little tents they built all along the sills, so I vacuumed and sprayed them.

Looking out the front window, which the tin foil I had had behind the blocks fell off of, it was scary seeing just how fucking close next door is! These room-darkening shades really do keep light out a lot better than blinds do. Still, it’s gonna take some getting used to with the daylight in there and with headlights shining in through the sides of the shades at night. The foil in the side window held up well enough and I’ll leave it there for the next people to either keep or take down.

Anyway, with the combination of the fan and the bassy stereo I have, there shouldn’t be a problem with sleeping. Anything that wakes me up now should wake me up even if the sound blocks were still there. With just the fan or just a clock radio - forget it. I’d never sleep. I’m also going to try to stay on days for as long as I comfortably can.

I don’t know what time the furniture truck left next door yesterday evening, but there’s still been no cream pickup. Just the broken van and the silver car. A red car was here today, but I didn’t hear or see it. Tom was the one to see it come and go while he was working.

I think I may have a handle on what’s been going on next door. I don’t think Deb’s been staying there lately, and I think Chester just may’ve gotten a job! Yes, a welfare bum got a job, can you believe it? I think he’s going to work and being dropped off by that striped van. Also, I think Deb has the cream pickup. From the looks of it, her parents dropped her off here for a few minutes this morning. I don’t know the story of the silver car. My guess is that they sleep till late morning or early afternoon, but they don’t work. Or maybe they work 2nd or 3rd shift and that’s why the Ranchero kids have babysat in the evenings till Chester gets in. I just hope that fucking Ranchero’s not gonna be here every day, but I have a feeling it is.

Later…

Tom’s trimming that goddamn tree I hate so much out front. Hopefully, this will be the last time he’ll have to trim it. I reminded him to pick up the cigarette butts and the beer cans. He said he could get the beer cans, but there are too many cigarette butts and it’d be too much work. Thanks, freeloaders. Thanks a real lot. Well, I guess we’ll just have to hope it doesn’t hinder selling this house, and like he said, we can’t worry about every little thing. Also, it’s not really noticeable from the driveway and the house. You have to really get out into the yard and look at the ground in order to see shit like that, and I’d think that any people coming here are going to concentrate more on the house. Not the grounds.

MONDAY, AUGUST 16, 1999 Twice I contemplated going for a swim only to be scared off by all the bees. There are tons of them! Each summer gets worse. It used to be that you could look out at the pool and not see a bee for a few minutes at a time, but now, there’s always not one, but three or four bees when you look out at the pool.

Tom told me that he doesn’t know when they listed it, but Ma’s old house has been up for sale for quite a while. They remodeled the place and all that, but I’m not surprised it’s still up for sale. No one wants to live in Mexico, but Mexicans themselves and the poor shits probably can’t afford it.

Tom talked to Mary yesterday, and I did too, telling her I just may want to show off the new house and have her visit. I warned her, though, that I’m not used to entertaining like she is. She said she and Dave would be easy to have visit. Of course they’d be; they don’t reek of pot and cigarettes, and they’re over two. Mom can visit as often as she wants, but I’d like to have Mary and Dave visit at least once, and Evie and her family visit at least once. That way they can know we’re still alive, see the place, and not have their feelings hurt. Meaning, if we invited just Mary and Dave, Evie’s feelings may be hurt. I wouldn’t want to hurt her feelings if I could help it, but I don’t care about other family members like Ray and Nora. This is, of course, with Tom’s approval. Neither of us wants a lot of people in the house at once, or frequent company. Also, with this house, it’d be easier to get the breakables into one area away from kids.

I got a kick out of how Steven said to look at this place as a customer would when we go to make it sharp. Oh, God! If I were a customer coming in here I’d turn around and run. We all have our individual tastes and tolerance levels, but first of all, if I wanted someone just 3 feet away from me I’d stick with apartments. Secondly, it’s too small and too old for us, and the layout’s not all that great. The worst thing about it is how the master bedroom is right off the living room. Just about, anyway.

We really got a tremendous amount of work done over the weekend. He really tackled the garage big time! A dumpster will be delivered tomorrow and picked up Wednesday. It’ll cost half of what we paid for the dumpster we used for the roof project, but at first I was pissed, cuz if he had just kept up on it all along, we wouldn’t have to spend the $250 to get the dumpster. Then he made some lame excuse about how we wouldn’t be in the position we’re in today if he’d kept up on it. Oh, bull fucking shit! There’s no excuse and no connection. You don’t need to be a slob to get ahead in life. Had we had a kid, for example, that would’ve held us back and we wouldn’t be listing our house in a couple of days.

He’s done work on the garage, the yard, the pool, etc.

He installed inner door locks that hold a door shut from the inside for days when we want to sleep and not have people coming in to look at the house.

Today I gave our glasses and mugs the old vinegar treatment to get rid of hard water and coffee stains.

Later…

I can’t believe it’s 3:00 and not one sales call has come in yet!! Yeah, but will it stay that way? No. As soon as the house is listed they’ll call 10 times a day.

Time for the freeloader update - the weekend went by peacefully enough. I mean, I’m sure there was shit going on at night, but he’s a heavy enough sleeper to have slept through it, and I was asleep under the fan and music.

They were only naughty once that we know of, and that was yesterday at sunset. The cunt in the Ranchero visited for a couple of hours and blasted the stereo for about 20 seconds. I’m sure they did it just so they could say they did it and that they did something they know pisses us off and that’s illegal. Anything to rebel. Anything to stand out, make a scene, be the bent fucks that they are. They also like to test me and get a bit pushy, but we’re not finished with each other yet. Upon moving, I’m sending two different city addresses a detailed letter of their shit, and of course, they’ll have their own mail to read. I’m sending a letter to the address I’ve used before complaining about the freeloaders, and the address that the black bitch received mail from, and I’m not bothering to sign it this time or put a return address. Naturally, I won’t use racial slurs or swears in their letters, but I sure will give them a piece of my mind and lay out the facts for them! It may not change anything, but it’ll do me good to vent, just like it’ll make me feel good to send the mail I’m sending to others when we move. The city’s letters will have two main issues - their noise, and the way they’re using our tax dollars to live off.

Anyway, the Ranchero came at 6:30, and so began their typical sundown lawn party. This time, though, it only lasted 3 hours, but there were the usual people - the sack of flab, a few other adults, and millions of little mistakes. At 8:30, the cream pickup, which returned a few days ago although I haven’t seen it today, came in followed by a red car. By 9:30, the Ranchero and the pickup were gone for the night, but the red car came and went once more. I never heard the Ranchero over my fan and music, but that’s the idea. I did, though, hear a few bangs from the red car which was parked in the driveway just inside the carport as it was leaving (the pickup and Ranchero had been in the street), but I think it was car doors and not music, cuz when I went out into the living room to see it pull out, I didn’t hear any music.

For the last 3-4 days, the blue pickup has been around, and a couple of days ago I saw yet another new car. It was a low, dark gray car with shiny gold hubcaps. The striped van was here this morning.

Now here’s a classic example of just how lazy these people are - they moved the garbage can to the corner of their yard, so now it’s to the left corner of our yard, rather than the right corner. You mean to tell me that they’re that lazy that they couldn’t even walk the extra 15 steps or so?! Damn!

Later…

The Ranchero just pulled up in the street with the music between a soft and medium volume. A cock got out and went into the house leaving the music on. Keep it going for five minutes and I’ll call that non-emergency number, I thought. But just then, a lady walked out to the car with the guy and some kid in tow, and she turned the stereo off. Then they all went back to the house. Deb, you better set your guests straight fast!

Later…

Now the cock, the cunt, and the kid are sitting out on the Ranchero. Good. Maybe they’ll use the street as an ashtray and not our yard. If there’s one asset to these people being lazy, it’s that they’re usually too lazy to park in the driveway. Even if it’s just a few more feet, the further away they are, the better. Except for the Ranchero’s stereo and that red Bronco, it does appear that they’re trying to stay further away from the house. I still haven’t heard any house music, either. I know this will all change before we can get out of here, though, and that the Ranchero will let me know when it leaves.

The sun’s just about getting ready to set now, so it’s prime time. This is their most active time of day. I’m sure there’ll be more vehicles and people till 9:00-midnight.

I just hope Tom’s right when he says they’ll be thrilled about seeing the house up for sale. Maybe they will want us to get out of here and maybe they will help by not making things look bad, like trash in our yard and loud music. I don’t know, though. These people love to harass people. Am I really worth the expense of the gas it takes to run the car and therefore run the stereo? Am I really worth the money? Yes. Unfortunately, I’m well worth the cost. They’ll pay whatever they can afford to in regards to me and badgering me. Well, I’m not gonna give them the reaction they want. They want me to go out there and scream at them. Well, mark my words, if I’m ever face to face with these people again, there won’t be any words coming out of my mouth. Hell no! I’ll be all action and no talk.

Later…

Wrong. The Ranchero didn’t let me know when it left cuz I was under the headphones. It let me know when it came back, but the music was so soft I couldn’t believe it! Cock, cunt, and a couple of mistakes got out and headed into the house with a couple of bags, and now it’s on to sitting on the car for a few hours or so. What a ridiculous waste of life! Although, this time, it looked like they were reading something. I thought I saw red papers.

Later…

The furniture truck that’s visited a few times was in the driveway. At least that thing doesn’t have a killer stereo. Now it looks like the girl’s holding a pink piece of paper. Yeah, well you better hurry up and finish reading, bitch. It’s getting dark fast.

But what is this? I mean, all I see out there is this couple that is about 18 (besides little kids). They’re just kids themselves. Did they come over just to sit out on the street in front of the house? What’s the matter with their street and where are Chester and Deb? Could they be gone somewhere? Is that why the cream pickup has been gone a lot? Are these kids just house-sitting and babysitting?

Later…

The furniture truck with its graffiti all over it just returned and parked on the street this time in front of the Ranchero. Then shortly afterward, Chester got dropped off in the striped van. Yeah, I guess the Ranchero kids were babysitting, cuz now they’ve closed the back of it where they had been sitting and have gone in the house, telling me that they might be leaving soon now that Chester’s back. What? Could Chester and Debra actually have gotten jobs?!?!

Later…

The Ranchero’s gone and if it doesn’t come back, it’ll enforce my belief about them being here babysitting. What? Are they gonna babysit every evening now? I don’t know if I like that idea too much. Still, I’m keeping my headphones on for the next 20 minutes before I get him up so he can finish painting the utility area (then the inside painting will be done!), then I’ll go into the bedroom and put the stereo on there.

SUNDAY, AUGUST 15, 1999 I woke up depressed for reasons I couldn’t explain. Tom suggested that maybe it was cuz the house was going to be up for sale in just a few days, and I was like, how the fuck could that depress me?! I’m thrilled! He said it’s normal for people to feel let down after anticipating something for a long time when it’s finally about to happen and when the point of no return arrives. Believe me, I don’t want to return!

Then he said he thought it was a lack of sex. Maybe, I said, but if having sex means hurting, I don’t want to have sex. I asked, and he said he wasn’t depressed about it, and said he could adapt to whatever would make me happy. As I told him, this man’s so tolerable! So patient! So easy to please! So, I made him compromise with me by promising to be consistent about it and not spend too much time on the side, he agreed, and we screwed. To my utter amazement, there wasn’t a stitch of pain! I thought it was gonna be excruciating and that I’d have to stop him long before he could go up top, but nope. So now I know that the irritation I had wasn’t due to the length of time in between screwing, and now I know I can go a week, 2 weeks, 3 weeks, however long we want to in between sex.

I told him that it was up to him whether or not he cums. Whether or not it’s out of his hands, or a conscious decision, I’m happy as long as he’s happy with whatever it is he does. I also told him that just because I didn’t want a kid, I’d do what I could if he decided he wanted a kid, as long as he understood that that’d mean making some sacrifices. As he himself said, sometimes you gotta put up with a lot of crap and do things you don’t want to do to get something you want. Well, if he decided he wanted a kid, he’d have to temporarily change his sexual habits, and sacrifice not cumming and being himself and all that if a kid were important enough to him and if he ever wanted it bad enough. I don’t see this as something we’ll ever consciously want, but here’s something just as weird as waking up depressed; the thought of conceiving doesn’t scare me. He didn’t think this was odd, but I do. I mean, it should scare me. Not only does the thought of conceiving not scare me, but the thought of actually finding out I was pregnant doesn’t scare me, either. Again, it should. Anything that can bring so much pain, lack of sleep, lack of life, and cost so much money, should scare the living shit out of me. Out of anyone! Maybe it doesn’t cuz I know it can’t happen. Maybe cuz I know God would never give me more than I could handle? Whatever. I’m just glad it doesn’t scare me cuz that’s one less thing to have to worry about and deal with. No two. Now I don’t have to worry about when we screw, either! It takes a load off me.

I just wish women didn’t dry up so much with age! The KY’s a little too sticky, but I can’t think of anything else as effective. I asked Tom if he wanted to discuss stimulants with a doctor when we move, but he said we should wait and see what happens first (I didn’t tell him nothing would change. I’ll let him see that for himself), not that I can imagine him discussing it with a doctor. Aren’t guys supposed to be shy about discussing sex with doctors? Well, either way, I don’t think we’ll need it. He hasn’t complained about not being stimulated enough and he hasn’t brought up wanting/needing any additions to the sex, and as long as I’m not in pain and we’re both happy, everything will be OK. A little dryness on my part won’t kill us, and even a little drop of KY is all it takes to ensure I don’t get overly dry and irritated. The Vagisil also cures any irritation I may get in 1-3 doses. The stuff’s a total lifesaver! He says that the exercise machine should help with the sex too, but that’ll depend on how often we use it. It’s strictly up to him, of course, but I can’t picture him using the thing regularly. Me? Well, I’m gonna try to be as consistent as I can, but it’s gonna be hard. I mean, think about it. How many people look forward to working out and how many see it as a chore?

The only thing he’s done that I disagree with is tell me that the reason he cums so rarely is cuz I mention it when I mention sex. First of all, the two do sometimes go hand in hand. Secondly, it’s wrong for him to say that that’s why. That’d be like him saying, “If you don’t talk about how tall I am, it’ll change my height.” He is how he is, be it consciously or not. No matter what people say, it’s in our nature to be however we’re gonna be. He’s just the way he is. Period. I’m just the way I am, too. It’s not in my nature these days to cum as much as I used to, but that’s just me. It’s got nothing to do with anything he says or does. The only way he could be the way he is cuz of me would be if he thought I could get pregnant and he too, thought I couldn’t handle it. If this is the case, that’s his problem for not saying so, but let’s just sum it up like this - he cannot cum for a reason, he cannot cum for no reason. As long as he’s happy - great. If not, I’ll do whatever I can to support/help him make whatever changes he wants, and I assume his attitude’s the same; that he wants me to be happy and would also support/help me make any changes I wanted to make. Right now, though, I see no changes necessary. We can screw however often or however little we want and we can cum as little as or as often as we want. Once every 1-3 months or so, I will definitely want to get off by him and I will want variety, so I’ll have him go down on me. I told him this earlier, and he agreed. He also agreed we wouldn’t try to get me pregnant or try to avoid it when we move. This is subject to change, I understand, and I can be flexible. Like I said, if he decided to try to help me conceive (regardless of if I don’t think that can happen), fine. Just like I’m sure he’d be willing to try to make all the surer I didn’t conceive if I wanted to do the rhythm method or have him never cum at all. Like I said, though, I trust destiny to take care of itself. To each their own, but I don’t think we have to influence or help what’s fated to be.

So, what do I see up ahead as far as sex goes? Whatever happens, happens, but I’d have to guess, going by logic and our natures, that I can expect to see more on-top action and less side action, us rarely cumming, and more of a variety of times between sex. At least we don’t have to be consistent about it, but he does have to watch how much time he spends on the side. If he spends too much side time I get pressure pains.

FRIDAY, AUGUST 13, 1999 I ditched the bikini file I had made. Seeing bodies I wish I had really isn’t gonna change how I eat/live one way or another, and they had boring faces, so I got rid of them. I’m a face person, not a body person when it comes to others. It’s my body I care about size-wise and all that, not someone else’s.

I don’t know if we’ll ever have sex again after moving. I’m just not looking forward to the pain and like I said a million times before, I can’t keep starting and stopping every 3-6 weeks like we always have. Also, I said the sex lost its newness and its excitement, not that I didn’t like the sex itself. So, after not doing what became too familiar and predictable for a while, it won’t be boring if we do it again. I think all couples find they have to take a break from sex every now and then to freshen things up. Do I want to change the sex itself? No, cuz I want him to do what he likes and feels comfortable with. We couldn’t, for example, decide to doggie style one day. Going from side to top definitely suited us best. Well, I guess I’ll leave it up to him cuz in this day and age; I can live with or without sex. It’s him that matters to me. It’s him I can’t live without as a whole. His dick is just a small part of him. Well, sort of. His dick is big, actually, but you know what I mean. If he feels he can do it at least once a week consistently and that he needs it, I’ll give it to him, but me, I just don’t need it. I need him.

Although it’s only been 20 days since my hair was cut, both of us noticed how it’s grown back a little. Like half an inch.

A couple of days ago there was a call that said bus something on the caller ID box. They left a hang-up message. It was definitely a business and it had an exchange for the Springfield area, although a different area code. The only one I can think of that had a connection to buses is Larry. For about 15 years he drove charter buses that drove longer distances than just around the city to places like Boston and New York. He drove for Greyhound for a while, but mainly Peter Pan. Well, nothing’s changed. I have nothing to say to him, to his sister, or to his parents.

Today Tom’s gonna call Leona, or whoever’s working today if she isn’t, and tell them we want our $1000 back, cuz the interest rates are too high.

Once the house is listed, he’ll search for land to buy. Also, there definitely won’t be a layover as long as we work with Steven, who’s gonna save us a lot of time and legwork compared to Leona. No wonder I never vibed a layover.

This changing from Leona to Steven has turned out to be a good thing in many ways. I can make some changes to the house easier now. The more I think about it, the more I think vinyl in the dining area will look funny cuz of the way that area is laid out. If we had had kids, that’d be different, but he never eats at the table, and if I use common sense and be careful, I’m sure I can avoid messy spills. I also want the living room wired for a ceiling fan, and to see if once again, we can go back to getting just a shower stall in the second bath.

I cleared a few pieces of old furniture that can go to the alley for bulk pickup, although I still say that most of what we put out there will be gone long before the truck comes to haul it. I started to move the little shelves I once used as a paper station to put the pig on, and thank God I didn’t cuz it fell apart. Meanwhile, I cleared the two old desks in the back room and put the pig on the floor. The mice are on a shelf just inside the back room where we used to keep the microwave. The rats are in their usual spot by the back door. Lastly, I took what I was using for a night table out of the bedroom and then stacked two boxes by the bed to use as a makeshift night table. On it, I put one of my stereo speakers, my lamp, a spot for my book, a coffee mug, and my inhaler. I do have a box of mints and some hair elastics there, too.

Yesterday, I saw a big silver Jeep next door for a while. Otherwise, I’ve been blessed enough not to have seen much of them lately cuz I’ve been on days. I’ll be asleep during tonight’s and tomorrow night’s turmoil over there, so during their weekend ruckus, I’ll definitely have the stereo going. Louder than usual, too.

Later…

The impatient little fuck that had to honk 3 times just pulled up in its van. In the sunlight, I could see that it was more of a white and dark reddish-orange striped van than gray and maroon. It was here to pick up Chester. Again, what’s wrong with the van and silver car? My best answer is that the van’s busted, and the people with the silver car sleep late and don’t trust Chester or Deb taking it out themselves.

Just 10 more days to go with the braces. And yes, my front teeth have straightened some more. They’re not perfect but they’re plenty good enough.

THURSDAY, AUGUST 12, 1999 Yesterday, both of us slaved our asses off getting the house presentable. The house and the yard haven’t looked this good in over a year. The patio is all cleaned off, and the back room is neat, uncluttered, and organized. He still wants to get some of the boxes that are stacked in a corner of the back room into the little room in there. He has the boxes where the main leak was, saying he trusts it’ll never leak there again. Well, it didn’t leak the last time it rained, but it’ll leak there again.

Anyway, it was so nice to wake up to a neat, organized house. It really eases my stress, cuz it not only looks better, but it also makes me feel like we’re closer to moving.

Steven was here at the house for 2½ hours. He was a bit disorganized, semi-gay-sounding, way too thin and tall, but nice enough. We think he’ll get the job done and that he has a little more experience and knowledge than Leona and her people did. He can also save us at least $20,000, as well as take care of more for us than Leona could. Leona couldn’t even have a contractor put a trash compactor in for us. This guy can.

He’s offering the model we want for $46,000. Leona’s company wanted $68,000. He says he has the same options available and even more. He was going to leave us a list of the options he’s got, but he forgot to. Just like he forgot to bring his tape measurer to measure the length of the house, but I already did that. He had the total square footage for this house which is 1471, not counting the garage. I thought it weird that it was an odd number, but this house itself is a bit odd. We figured the living room here is about 15x18, the master bedroom 15x15, the other bedroom 12x12, the kitchen 12x15, and the back room 30x15. These are approximations only, though. The width of the house is about 35’ and the length is about 40’. The property is about 100’ long and 45’ wide.

He was a typical salesman in the way that he bragged about how good he was and how bad others were. According to him, Leona doesn’t know her stuff when she asked if we could haul water when we mentioned it. She’d never even heard of hauling water. It’d be more convenient for us to have a well, rather than to haul our own water, but this guy may be able to drill us a well that’s affordable enough. The water table in Maricopa is about 700’.

I got a kick out of how he asked if this was a 2-bedroom after we just took him on a tour of the place.

He took off for about 10 minutes or so to look at other houses around the area that are for sale so he could get a good idea of what price to start with. We’re starting with what we know is too high - $85,000. He recommends we stick with that for a couple of weeks, then we can drop it lower. After Tom did some calculating, he told me we could end up selling for as low as $65,000 and still get most of the stuff we want for the new house. He said we can expect a lot of showings. We were surprised to hear this, and of course, I’m like - oh no! That’s all the more kids that are gonna come in here and trash the place. Naturally, Tom’s disagreeing with me, saying that they don’t trash things and they don’t come to look at houses with their parents. Yes, they do. Trust me, there’ll be plenty of kids in here, and they will trash the place while their parents act like nothing’s going on. They just don’t discipline their kids. It’s so rude to let an untamed kid of about 1-4 years of age who’s totally wild and destructive run loose in someone’s home. They don’t understand “no” at that age, and they need to be restrained. The show must still go on, though, so I’ll just take as much stuff as I can and get it out of kids’ reach.

He said our house would have an easier time selling in the summer than in the winter cuz of the pool. People like the idea of being able to move into a house and go swimming, but they couldn’t do that in December unless they could afford to heat the thing.

As I knew would be the case, he mentioned the fact that there are only 2 bedrooms and 1 bathroom as a negative, but the pool, covered garage, and other things make up for it.

So, although he’s gonna be the one to list this house, and take care of our new house and its prep work, he’s not necessarily going to be the one showing this house (yes, they will call first).

We didn’t take the sound blocks out yet. They’ll come out when the house is listed.

We have an application to fill out and fax to him, but since we still have the garage to do and the storeroom out back, we asked not to list the house till the 18th. I just can’t wait to see that for-sale sign! Can’t wait for the freeloaders to see it, too! I’ll want the whole world to see it! I’ll be sure to take pictures of it and include a copy for them. I asked Tom what he thought their reaction would be, and he said they’ll be thrilled. Maybe, maybe not. That depends on how much they’re gonna miss having someone around that they know damn good and well they can piss off with their antics. For all they know, the next people in here may not mind, and remember, these people want conflict. They love having enemies.

I still can’t decide who’s worse - the blacks or the Mexicans. That’s a tough call cuz the Mexicans don’t blast in 5-10 a day like the blacks did, but the blacks didn’t trash our yard and hang outside from 11 PM to sunup, either.

This morning they decided to take a break from the banging. I haven’t heard a sound since being up at 3:30 AM, except for the 7 AM honk of the gray/maroon van. They did have their front porch light on, though, and I heard the dog across the street go off for a few minutes at 4:00, so they were obviously out and about. Probably hanging out on their front porch. Fortunately, sound can’t travel into this house from their front porch like it can from their back patio. In back, it’s a straight shot to the house, pretty much, but part of their living room is in between our house and their front porch, so we can’t hear them from there unless they scream.

Yesterday morning I saw the same white car pull out that we saw early Saturday morning out front. Still no cream pickup. Just the van and silver car living there now.

Anyway, we should have about 6-8 more weekends left here! God, I hope no more than that!

WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 11, 1999 Let me get caught up with the freeloaders before moving on to better, important things.

Yesterday was a pretty active morning for some of the many freeloaders in that household. At 7:00, a maroon and gray van that I saw at their “housewarming” party, pulled up at the curb honking its horn every minute for 5 minutes, till someone finally came out, got in the passenger seat, and took off.

A little later, a gold pickup came and did some honking.

Lastly, to honk up to the curb, was an AAA Cab, which honked on and off for 5 minutes. The driver was a Mexican, so that explains some of the rude, obnoxious honking right there. He went to the house at one point, but he didn’t take anyone with him, so I guess someone either called in the wrong address, or the freeloaders changed their minds and didn’t have the decency to call the company. Why do these subhumans need vans, pickups, and cabs anyway, with a car and a van of their own?

The freeloaders have been trashing our yard with cigarette butts and beer cans. Typical, typical, filthy, fucking freeloaders! Even before we ever spoke a word to each other they did this (it’s just escalated since our childish sickos have been more and more of a problem to us), and they’ll do it to the next people that live here, too. That is your classic Mexican; trashing other people’s yards. They’re just so fucking bold, too! You gotta have a death wish for sure if you’re that brazen enough to trash someone’s yard. They came into this neighborhood totally asking for trouble. They may as well have brought signs in saying, fuck this neighborhood and the people in it. We’re gonna force our noise on you, we’re gonna trash your yard, we’re gonna totally shit on you for no Goddamn reason! Fucking, motherfucking freeloaders!!! I’ll bet you my animals that these freeloaders won’t even make it to 40 years of age before somebody kills them. They’re totally asking to be shot! And of course, they can trash our yard and get away with it and I can’t. If I threw garbage in their yard, I’d have to dodge being subpoenaed. I feel like these freeloaders can and will get away with everything they’ve done to me and like I can’t do squat about these shits but take whatever they dish out to me. I want soooooooo bad to go over there and just beat the living shit out of these fucking assholes! However, just like with 95% of the things in life, you can’t always do what you want, for they’d definitely shoot me, and unlike in the past, I don’t have a death wish.

Maybe their butts and cans are my punishment for the bottle I gave the blacks, and if so, who punishes the blacks and the Mexicans for the shit they did to me? I just hope that either way, God will punish them and the blacks that used to live there. They’ve done way more to me than I ever did to them. The worst I ever did to these freeloaders was cuss them out and threaten to shoot their dog (the previous freeloaders). Meanwhile, between the two, I’ve had to endure 4 years of noise harassment and stress.

What I wonder is, how much are these freeloaders going to interfere with us trying to sell this place? It’s not gonna look very good showing a house with a yard that’s littered with trash. Trash that obviously came from next door. No one’s gonna want to live next to that but a pack of scummy Mexicans that do the same thing and are just as noisy, yet there’s no guarantee that we can get freeloaders to look at/buy the place. I’m just glad these people are fairly dormant during the day and I hope they stay that way while we’re still here. That way, there’s less chance a potential white buyer will come to look at the place during one of their antics since they’ll probably come looking during the daytime. The earlier they come, the better the chances of the freeloaders being out of sight and sound.

The freeloaders are gonna be getting a little more than just typed journals of their bullshit, cuz Mary’s read them a tape. Yeah, we had so many blank cassettes that I felt it was about time I used one. It won’t cost any more postage, so I had Mary tape them a tape of their stuff, some of the edits, and bits and pieces of mumbo jumbo from old journals.

I’ve heard about 5 bangs since 4:00 just like I did yesterday, but can’t say for sure it was them. I haven’t spent much time in the bedroom since I got up after midnight, but it probably was them. What other idiot around here would be out bopping around and banging shit at 4:00 and 5:00 in the morning?

OK, that was a definite bang from next door. A loud one, too. Keep it up, fuckers! For the last two days, they’ve started this shit at 4 AM and continue on till sunup, around now, at 5:30, when most of them crash. They crash with the sunrise and get up with the sunset.

Later…

In the 6 hours I’ve been up I’ve cleaned the counters and stovetop, and done the bathroom floor. Yesterday he began putting on new baseboards that you glue on in the kitchen and bathroom and pulled up the bathroom carpet. I could’ve shot him for using carpet tape like I could’ve shot myself for doing the wall art. It was a bitch to get up, but if ever I felt like I’ve contributed something, it was today. It took me nearly an hour to do, which saved him valuable time. Then I mopped the floor.

I still have to change the rat and pig’s cages. The mice are fine as they are, though. I also have to do the grocery list, the dishes, and scrub the kitchen sink.

I moved Bailey and Maria out of the bedroom so that they won’t get hit with dust when the sound blocks are removed.

Tom’s mom asked him if I’d feel safe out where we’re moving. Bet she didn’t ask if he’d feel safe. I know people mean well, but you know, this really offends me. What? Just because I’m a woman doesn’t mean I can’t feel safe? Well let me set the record straight - I’m no more fearful of living out there than any man would be, OK? Also, people are kidding themselves if they think a man is any safer from a burglar or a homicidal maniac than women are. When killers kill, they kill anyone, of any gender. People that break in houses, be it to rip you off or cuz they’re maniacs, almost always bring guns cuz they don’t know if there’s gonna be dogs or a bunch of people waiting for them, so they usually use guns. If they’re crazy, they’re crazy, and they’ll kill a man just as easily as a woman. If they’re burglars who intend to kill, they kill cuz they don’t want to leave any witnesses. A man can be a witness, too. So, if I’m not safe out there, neither is he, unless he was out at the time some gun-twirling cock came to the house. If they were dumb enough to come unarmed, and if there was just one or two of them, then I’d be doing the killing. With my bare hands. I’ve certainly never killed before (just came close a few times, and wanted to a million times), but I know it’s something I could do as easily and as remorselessly as I could kill a spider if my life or my husband’s ever depended on it.

I look at moving out there and getting broken into or killed as I do with the kid, the chances of it happening is one in millions, but that doesn’t mean I’m gonna live in fear and limit myself to where I go and what I do. As Tom says, you deal with what life brings, and like I said, when we’re fated to go, we’re fated to go. Meanwhile, you just hope for the best in life and try to get all you want/can in life.

I also doubt we’ll be that secluded. I’m sure we’ll be able to see 4-5 houses from ours and that while we won’t hear kids and dogs much, we’ll still hear almost as many stereos as we do here. That’s only because these bassy things are so potent. Even when they’re not that loud, they can easily permeate through walls miles away.

Later…

I just turned the sound machine on in the living room since the dog across the street decided to go off, and it’s not just one dog, either. It looks like she has a little puppy with her.

Tears of mixed emotions such as excitement and anxiety sting my eyes as I think about moving, but they rarely fall. Maybe when it’s over. It was like that for me in Norwich. The tears of relief and happiness of getting out of there didn’t fall till afterward. It’s usually after one gets out of an uncool ordeal that their emotions spill forth.

TUESDAY, AUGUST 10, 1999 I slept with that song playing and I slept fine. Just maybe I will get out of here able to say they never woke me up, as shocking as that’d sound.

I asked Tom if they were playing music and what vehicles he saw yesterday evening before he headed off to work. He said there was no music and no vehicles. They were standing around as if they were waiting for someone and they might’ve been barbecuing, but by the time he left for work, they were gone. Yeah, well like I said, they always hang out front. I haven’t seen anything out front since being up at 9:30, but they were probably out earlier, and again, they hang out more on weekends.

I know these people don’t work, and neither does anyone they know, but I was semi-surprised to see them have company yesterday late morning when they’re usually asleep. The blue pickup was there for a while. The company usually doesn’t get here till in the late afternoons, but mostly in the early evenings.

For the first time yesterday, Tom and I both heard soft music coming from the silver car as it left and returned at around noon. I asked Tom if he thought they just got a stereo for this car and he said no. Again, though, why wasn’t the music much louder if they’re so “blatantly illegal” and know we don’t like it? That’s the only thing that doesn’t make sense with these sick people. These are the kind of people who only turn it up all the louder each time you ask them to turn it down. No matter if you’re polite about it, or you cuss them out and threaten them.

Tom got the light blue paint we need to cover up some nasty spots by the front door. He’s also done a lot of yard work.

Yesterday, he was sleeping on the couch for a few hours between work and picking up the paint when I heard him mumbling in his sleep. The only words I could make out were, “The position they’ve earned in their little corner of the universe.”

Went online last night and got some more wallpaper pictures of the usual stuff, but this time, I also got some pictures of ladies in bikinis too, to make me jealous. I figured that the more I see that, the less I’ll want to eat.

Andy left a message yesterday that was surprisingly full of different activities he’s been doing. Instead of the usual about staying home and getting stoned while he watches TV, eats, and gabs on the phone, he told me he’s been doing more “manly” things. Yard work, growing a bit of a mustache and a goatee (yuck). He also said Barbara Nicks gave him money to buy lawn tools, and that he went to see Donna Summer in concert. I love her disco music from the 70s.

Later…

What is that I’ve been seeing in the freeloader’s driveway, broken glass? Well if it is, it wasn’t me (ha, ha). Also, our little childish neighbors have been banging off and on throughout the night. At first I didn’t know what it was. I thought it could be anything, anywhere, till I was in the bedroom and heard a bang that definitely had to have come from over there. Grow up, freeloaders! Get a life! Don’t these people have anything better to do than go banging shit around and antagonize us? They just love to instigate shit, huh? They’re really asking for it! Anyway, the few slams I heard here and there were their vehicle doors. The shit began around 4:00 and I could see their back patio light was on too, at that time, which hadn’t been on earlier at 2:00.

SUNDAY, AUGUST 8, 1999 This is utterly unbelievable! Still no vehicles!

These doll shows are really starting to piss me off. I tune in for dolls, and instead I get jewelry and Barbies. They’re spending too much time on stuff that shouldn’t be on a doll show. Especially one that’s supposed to be geared toward porcelain dolls. And they take forever, too. They spend 15-20 minutes selling a ring, for Christ’s sake!

Later…

I should’ve known it wouldn’t stay quiet. That red Bronco just blasted in. It wasn’t tremendously loud like last Saturday, but it was still too loud, and I hate these sick fucks! They are despicable! I hate the city too! How dare the city put this shit next to me year after year after year! And you God, allowed it! But we just can’t get out of here fast enough! How many more weekends is this thing gonna blast by?

Anyway, I didn’t hear how it left cuz I was under the headphones. The question is, will it return tonight? So, this is our new Saturday night routine, huh freeloaders?

Later…

I looked out the living room window, and right now I can’t see light casting a glow from their front porch light onto their front lawn like I could last night, so does this mean they’re not expecting anyone to come banging in like last night at 12:40 AM? There are still a couple of things that make no sense; why did the house music stop, for example? You’d think they’d be more eager to blare music from inside the house, and why haven’t they gone back to gabbing and shouting all night long outside?

When I got up at 10:30, there was a message left by Tom saying he hung around 15 minutes late before going to work cuz they were out front, but he didn’t think there’d be any big ruckus to wake me up but to call him if there was a problem and he’d come right home. Yeah, they’re always out front. I can’t wait to ask him what they were doing and what vehicles he saw. Were they playing music? Were they yelling and screaming? If he tells me they were noisier than usual, I won’t be the least bit surprised. On and off from 6 AM to around noon, Tom was doing yard work. I thought to myself right then and there that they’ll probably “retaliate” by sending us back noise of their own, which only goes to show just how childish these sick fucks are, just like the cops said. With our luck, we didn’t wake them up, although they were probably sleeping when the yard work was being done. But someone probably woke up to pee or something like that and heard us. Therefore, they sure as hell weren’t gonna hear us without being heard right back.

Meanwhile, I’ve decided to take preventative steps to ensure my sleep before they manage to wake me up. Instead of waiting for that to happen, I’m gonna just go ahead and sleep with that bassy, instrumental Gloria song played continuously to cover any noise they could make, short of taking out the bedroom window or pummeling the walls with bricks. Every time I go to sleep with my not-so-loud fan and my not-so-loud heartbeats going on the sound spa, I stress out wondering if they’re gonna wake me up. Well, I’m sick of going to bed stressed out, so I’ll just put the music on to ensure my peace and to ensure that they remain unharmed by me. Yeah, I’d love to go over there and pop them all a good one, but I’d love it even more if we could just get the fuck out of here and I could mail them their little write-ups.

It’s no wonder the garbage can in the alley’s always so full. The freeloaders never recycle anything. All their garbage goes in the alley.

For the last few days, I haven’t seen the cream pickup. Just the never-moving van that’s always deep in the carport, and I guess the silver car’s still there.

What I saw on the doll show last night is a good sign, I hope. Chyna’s still in stock, and they also still have that Tiffany doll which they’ve taken $100 off of. So now she’s the same price as the Ciara doll.

I went online yesterday looking for colorful 3D images. I didn’t find any, but I did find some more beautiful wallpaper. Pictures of scenery, animals, flowers, etc. It’s just soooo fun to browse through these pictures, and I even got a cool idea. I’m gonna make a collage on the walls in my “office” when we move of all the different pictures.

SATURDAY, AUGUST 7, 1999 Well, the Ranchero, or whatever vehicle that is, isn’t going anywhere soon from the looks of it and I’ll be damned if I’ll keep the headphones on till 2:00 or 3:00 if that’s how long these weird fucks choose to stay out there. I still can’t believe people are that desperate for attention and would choose to sit out in such warm humid weather, rather than indoors where it’s cooler.

I can’t decide who’s been worse - the blacks or the Mexicans. Well, the blacks never had street chats at midnight! For the last few nights, they’ve been stirring up that dog across the street, which may be another reason why they sit out front and on the street. Also, I saw something dart up the driveway that moved too fast to be a kid. At least I think it did. I should’ve known they’d get a dog for me to listen to as punishment for bitching about the music. That’s what the blacks did. After bitching about their music, they got a dog, so why wouldn’t these fuckaroos do the same? Well, if they did, although I don’t hear any barking, the city will hopefully be back to the house again soon for whatever reason and see the dog. Although, I don’t know if they’d care anymore. They don’t mind letting them make scenes and have people live there that aren’t supposed to, so maybe they just don’t care anymore what these people do. If they’re gonna allow illegal residents, illegal vehicles, and a ton of noise, they won’t mind a dog. If they did get a dog, at least we won’t have to live with it 3 feet away for 6 months like with the black bitch’s beast, and hopefully, they won’t rig it to their van in the carport. At least dogs can be fanned out. Also, I never use the music room or the back room anymore on a regular basis, which are the rooms closest to their backyard. If that’s where they keep it. They may tie it to their tree in front for all I know.

Anyway, I wouldn’t be the least bit surprised if this vehicle pulled away in a very loud manner. Or one that’s loud enough. Like I said, they don’t care about laws, they don’t care about the people around them. They don’t care that it’s after midnight. These people are sick, though. Totally sick! They let their kids run around and dart in and out of the street after midnight! Again, hope somebody gets hit by a car.

Later…

Still out there. Now that’s having no life. Imagine having nothing better to do than sit and gab outside in warm, humid weather with people you see all the time, anyway? They don’t work, they don’t tend to their kids, they don’t do anything, so what can they possibly have to say to each other for so long?

Later…

They’re still out there. If our lifeless losers are still out there at this hour, then they’ll be there till sunup, no doubt.

Later…

The vehicle’s now in a different position, but they’re still out there. I can see one of the little mistakes running around out there. Running around in front, where there are no enclosed walls, in the middle of the night! Damn! Anyway, I’m still not sure if this is the Ranchero or the cream pickup. I can’t tell what the fuck it is. The kids must love all the people and commotion, though, and in a way, I envy them and wish I could’ve grown up like this; so free-spirited with so few rules, restrictions, and discipline. I know I used to love it when we’d have company, especially overnight. So I can only imagine how much fun those kids must be having. I mean, my mother would never let us stay up till 3 AM!

Later…

It’s gone! The vehicle’s gone. Betcha these journals it’ll be right back, though!

Later…

Shockingly, that vehicle hasn’t returned. Just like they do 8 out of 10 times, things went according to vibed. When I got up at 5 PM, I didn’t have that bad, depressing, stressful, negative, ominous vibe I had last weekend when there was a reason for it.

Later…

An unidentified vehicle just pulled up in front of the freeloaders, and I think I heard a squeak as it did, so that would mean it’s the cream pickup. This stirred up the dog across the street. At least this one doesn’t bark for more than a few minutes at a time and for no reason at all like with the collies. I can’t believe the collies haven’t been going off all night with their street partying. And how the fuck can the people across the street sleep with their damn dog just below their windows barking on and off all night cuz of these freeloaders? This dog is right smack outside their bedroom windows. Even closer than the black bitch’s beast was. The black bitch’s beast was about 3’ away, but this one’s practically right up against the house.

Later…

Got up at 9:00 with no bad vibes in the air. There have been no vehicles within my range of view looking out the living room window. It’s early yet. Most of the fucks next door and their “friends” have only been up a few more hours than I have, so any sec now, a 4-hour street gathering should break out.

Later…

Still no vehicles, but I don’t really expect them to do any street hanging till at least 11:00.

Later…

Almost 11:30 and not a freeloader in sight.

I don’t think the cream pickup was next door at all yesterday. At 5 AM, I noticed yet another new car. A white car in the driveway. When Tom went to Jack-n-the-Box, he said someone was sitting in it with the door open. Yeah, I believe it. People out here are so weird. He said it’s common for teenagers to hang out in cars to get away from adults. I didn’t know it was just teens hanging in the cars. I can imagine, though, wanting to get out of a house so tremendously crowded. Just how could you hold a conversation in that household without having to shout to one another to be heard over the many other voices?

Anyway, shortly after 5:00, the driveway and street were vehicle-free and they hit the sack. Only the silver car and the never-moving van stayed there overnight last night. I’m sure the van is in its usual spot right now, and the silver car is probably parked in the carport too, but the cream pickup could be anywhere.

I can’t wait till the realtor gets here Wednesday!

We’re going to take the sound blocks out before he comes, which I might keep out during the remainder of my time here since they won’t block the sound of a loud stereo blaring by. The sound blocks help keep out smaller sounds, but they won’t keep big sounds out like pounding bass. The fan alone may be enough of a guard against smaller sounds, but if someone should have their bass thumping loud enough, it doesn’t matter whether or not I have the sound blocks.

I still fear having to sit and listen to bass invading my home when we move. It’s such a potent sound that can be heard for miles! Maybe, though, just maybe, there won’t be nearly as much in the way of monstrous stereos where we’re going. And maybe, just maybe, God won’t make me pay for having it quieter, either.

I told Tom I still think kids will be heard in the daytime, as they stop and talk in the street in front of our house on their way somewhere, but he says not out there. He says out there, it’s too hot or dangerous to be out cuz of rattlesnakes, so they basically stay in their own yards. That’s hard to believe. He says there’s no place to walk to or to ride bikes to, but I’m sure they must walk or ride to friends’ houses. Well, we’ll just see when we get out there. Still, I wonder - how much quieter will it be? And will there be a price to pay for it?

FRIDAY, AUGUST 6, 1999 They loitered in and around the cream pickup in the street from about 8:30-11:00, then that mystery vehicle that was parked behind it left. This just goes to show how much they do not want to be ignored. They do not want to live in peace with their neighbors. No, they weren’t noisy yet. Not till the weekend. Also, it goes to prove we’re right when we say they could care less whether or not they live or die cuz guess what the stupid idiots were doing? Sitting in and leaning against their metal pickup during lightning. Those stupid, stupid fucks! Oh God, why couldn’t you have struck them dead?! Hey, God loves losers like that. Anyway, I saw cocks, kids, and the fat tub of shit.

At one point while they were out there, a car pulled up in front of our house, a guy walked up to the passenger window for a second, then the car took off. Now, tell me that wasn’t a drug transaction and I’ll tell you you’re full of shit!

Later…

Wow! Just 17 days to go before the braces are off. Maybe.

Tom went to bed a little while ago, shortly after I got up. He had time to fill me in, though. He did some work around the house and made arrangements for a realtor to be here Wednesday at 2:00! The guy he called was the guy that that nosy Mexican recommended. The one that worked at the place where we saw our favorite model for the first time. The guy said he was surprised she recommended him since they’re competitors and he’s her ex-husband. Anyway, this guy, Steven W, says he can sell us this same model for 20 thousand less, as well as coordinate the selling of this house and the buying of the land. He said he can have the land prepped for 9 G’s, instead of 16 G’s. The question is, is he full of shit, or what? Well, we’ll find out come Wednesday.

I just want out of here! This has got to be the longest, most drawn-out thing I’ve ever anticipated in my whole life! I just can’t wait to get out of this house! Away from these freeloaders! Able to mail my mail to the shitfucks back east, Andy, and the blacks and Mexicans! Like I said, I don’t care if we have a layover or not. Tom said we can maybe rent a house for a month or stay in a condo or a townhouse. Whatever. Anywhere but here!

Later…

Our weekend company has arrived. I’m under the headphones now, of course, and will be till around 11:00. As I approached the window, I saw what might’ve been the enemy vehicle pulling away from the curb, and what I thought was the blue pickup in the driveway. I’m not sure, though, cuz the hubcaps are different on this pickup. For the most part, these freeloaders seem pretty big on pickups. Anyway, there’s gonna be vehicles coming and going till late tonight, so that’s why I’m headphoned, naturally. They may even have overnight company.

At 6:30 this morning, I walked towards the bedroom window where the stereo is when I heard soft music for 60 seconds. Was it next door? Or was it a loud car stereo from far away?

Later…

The freeloaders have taken to their usual evening routine - hanging out in the cream pickup. I’m sure this is where they’ll be till 11:00 or so. How fucking boring! Imagine spending 3 or more hours hanging outside in a pickup on the street. I’d rather be in a nice, private yard on a chair or something, with a book to read or puzzles to do. I’m surprised they aren’t doing this evening ritual in the carport just outside our windows. Well, they can’t block the driveway when their company has gotta come and go a million times, can they? Still, I’m surprised they don’t have the company use the street while they use the driveway. However, if they stay in the street, more people will hear and notice them. If they confine themselves to the carport, though, fewer people will be forced to acknowledge their sorry existence. They’re actually closer to the collie’s house than ours, but sorry freeloaders, they won’t even notice you exist. They won’t mind your noise. Not with 2 barking dogs and 2-3 kids of their own.

I’ve done some thinking and thought back to every single place I ever lived since being on my own and I see a scary, yet distinct pattern - the blacks and Mexicans always end up next to me. I could move to a house set amid hundreds of empty houses. Then all white residents, save for one non-white, would move in. And guess where the non-white resident would be? You got it! Right next to me. About 8 out of the 11 places I lived in had a non-white next to or above me. I just want to have white neighbors for a change when we move, OK? OK, God? Please! There may be just as many fucked up whites, but please, give me a change of pace and give me white neighbors who don’t have a ton of kids and who aren’t associated with vehicles with such monstrous stereos!

Tom said that while he was putting vents over the holes he drilled in the garage a long time ago, and did more work around the house, the silver car was nestled in the carport. Yeah, I know. They sleep during the day. I don’t think Deb and her hubby do, though. I think they sleep from around midnight to 6 AM, but the silver car people sleep during the day from what I can tell. I don’t know how, though. How do you sleep in a household of wild screaming kids? Well, they probably grew up with that same shit, so it’s easier to deal with something you’ve grown up with.

Later…

Holy shit! The freeloaders have taken off and gone elsewhere. Gone elsewhere on a Friday night! Yeah, there have been no vehicles within my range of view for the last couple of hours over there.

Just like two months ago, I had that pain in my lower right side again for 3-4 days, followed by a couple of days of very light spotting. But it can’t be ovulation anymore than it can be appendicitis, cuz I had no fever! Just what could it be? Maybe I’ll never know.

The music room is the perfect run-around room for the rats now, cuz it no longer has wires and dangerous things for them to chew on. Tom and I both agreed that the retreat would make a good rat room in the new house.

I laid it out on the line with Tom about sex and told him basically that for one reason or another, I’ve never been happy with him sexually, and that that’s obviously not going to change. Then, just as I knew he would, he went into the let’s-wait-and-see-what-happens-when-we-move bullshit. But I did see. I’ve seen for years. It’ll never change. No matter where we move, no matter what we do. I’m just bored with the sex. Tired of the same old, same old 9 out of 10 times we get together. First he humiliated me by not cumming, making me think I wasn’t good enough, and making me feel he was the biggest liar when he said he wanted a kid. Then the dream of having a kid died with time and I got comfortable with the familiarity of the same old routine every time, but only for a while. Now I’m bored shitless with the sex and I have absolutely no desire whatsoever to have sex with him despite how much I love him and want him, and him only, forever. I also reminded him that my crotch can’t take sex too often or too little.

Later…

The freeloaders are back, loitering on the street. At first I thought the vehicle they were hanging out in was the cream pickup, but it might be the Ranchero. Well, I knew it would be here this weekend, after all, and I threw the headphones back on before they could go pushing the wrong buttons and get themselves hurt and myself in jail. I thought I heard a few faint beats of music for 5 seconds or so, testing me. Anything to rebel against the law and their neighbors, the fucking motherfucking freeloaders!

THURSDAY, AUGUST 5, 1999 I see a boy of about 3-5 years of age and a girl of about 8-10 years of age out front playing with a hoe. The boy is naked save for his underwear. What kind of parent would let a little kid play out front barefoot in just underwear, unsupervised? Serves the parents right if the kid runs into the street and gets hit by a car.

Tom said the gold car was here today. Deb’s folks, huh? If only mommy and daddy knew just what a pathological liar their daughter is!

Tonight’s company is due to roll in (or blast in) any sec now, so on goes the headphones for 3-4 hours. This weekend is gonna be totally rocking over there. Between the Ranchero, that red car, and God knows what else, it’s gonna be tremendously noisy! I’ll be living under the headphones for sure. I’m surprised they haven’t gone back to gabbing all night long outside since the liar called the cops.

The big question is, why don’t people around here do something? Why is it always us to write to the city? What would it take for people to do something around here? I’ll bet these sick fucks could blast music 24/7 and still, no one would complain!

Tom put the screen saver maker program back, but it doesn’t work. Fine. I’m not gonna bother him with it anymore. If I mentioned every little computer problem I had, he’d really never have free time.

Later…

How astonishing! It’s 8:00 and no company yet! But what the fuck is the weirdo in the silver car doing? The car pulled out of the carport and right to the edge of the street, facing outward, yet the fuck’s just sitting there. Now it’s rolling backward, into the carport. It’s just sitting there now. I can tell this cuz I can see the headlights shining out. At first I thought, what would it be sitting there for but to blare music? However, it’s not. Besides, if they want to blast music, all they have to do is turn on music inside the house.

Later…

Still no company! Anyway, those lights I see shining out of their carport are not headlights. It’s their security light which they’ve changed to a brighter bulb like the one the blacks had. I’m not surprised. I mean, I’m sure I’m the main reason they’ve brightened their security light. Also, it’s on continuously and not on a motion sensor. I didn’t even know it could be left on continuously till these freeloaders arrived.

Later…

Oh, Jesus! What kind of fucking idiot lets their kid run around naked in the dark by the street!

I could see a cluster of freeloaders loitering around a vehicle that was parked on the street behind the cream pickup, but I couldn’t tell what vehicle it was. It’s a light-colored pickup, I think. So they couldn’t go just one night without company after all.

WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 4, 1999 The blue pickup didn’t leave till 5:50 this morning. Oh, so now that vehicle’s gonna live there too?

Anyway, the silver car and the cream pickup just left. A few minutes before this, the silver pickup parked in front of our house. This tells me there’s gonna be a lot of company tonight. If it’s parked in front of our house that means they need the whole front of their house and their driveway, which will hold 5-6 cars.

Just like with the black bitch, a part of me wishes Deb had threatened me or made a move on me to give me a reason! Just give me a reason! I would’ve mauled both her and the black bitch had they raised a hand to strike first, even if did up my chances of getting shot.

The silver car and the cream pickup are back. They weren’t even gone for 5 minutes. These two vehicles are parked in front of their house, the van’s deep in the carport, so we’ve got one or two cars coming into the driveway any sec now. I wonder why the van’s been staying deep in the carport. It never moves anymore. Why would they use an old beat-up pickup with squeaky, no doubt dangerous brakes, when they could use that nice roomy van?

Anyway, it’s now their move active time, so on goes the headphones.

Later…

For the second night in a row, the silver pickup either delivered something or picked up something from the house. I couldn’t tell for sure. It’s gone now, though. The silver car’s now in the driveway, but the cream pickup’s still in front of their house. Before the silver pickup left, I saw 3 cocks chatting in their driveway, then they moved to chat by the silver pickup with a guy in a green shirt sitting in the driver’s seat. Then the silver pickup left.

Last night I took one of the big 15x24 inch boxes and packed 7 dolls in it. Since condensing my dolls like this, I have fewer doll boxes. A lot of little boxes can slide around in a car easier than bigger, heavier boxes. Now I have just 3 doll boxes, plus Bailey and Maria who aren’t boxed. In one box I have 6 dolls - Anne, Edie, Christina, Victoria, Rapunzel, and Mystery. In the other, which has 7, are Sunshine & Lollipops, Falling Star, Summer Dream, Giselle, Liselle, Mary, and Angel. Patrice is in her own box cuz she has to be standing upright.

I guessed right about the great, great news having to do with money from his mother. She gave us a check for $5,000. It’s about time, too!

Tom did more yard work today, as well as some work cleaning the pool. Last night I popped the old baseboards off in the bathroom and cleaned the medicine cabinet.

I still say he’s full of shit about having a Realtor out next Monday. I just don’t “feel” it. He says it’s 50/50 that there will be. He just doesn’t have enough free time! As he says, though, it doesn’t have to be perfect for a Realtor and we don’t have to be done with everything that day either, since no one’s gonna move in the same day we call a Realtor.

Later…

The company for tonight is the vehicle that may be the one that banged in last Saturday night and came in softly Sunday night. It’s parked in front of their house. The silver car’s pulled deeper into the carport, so maybe there’s more coming. We’ve had the silver pickup, this reddish Bronco, so maybe the blue pickup’s next.

If the Bronco came banging in, I’ll never know. And believe me, it’s better that way. It keeps them safe from my fury and me from being even more stressed out. I’m surprised the ranchero hasn’t been back since the weekend. Maybe that’s coming tonight, but if not, it’ll be here by the time the weekend’s out for sure. It pisses me off to have to live this way, though, with headphones on at certain times. I feel totally controlled by these little shits! This having to work my life around their shit totally reminds me of the NHA and other places. I don’t want to have the headphones on, yet I have to if I don’t want to listen to any shit they decide to throw at me, and if I don’t want to boil over to the point of hurting them. Remember, we’re semi-suicidal here. These people wouldn’t mind dying any more than most of us would mind winning the lottery. However, I’m not gonna go to jail over a pack of scumbag freeloaders who have nothing better to do with their lives than to harass others.

Later…

The enemy vehicle is gone. I’m going to take a chance and take the headphones off now even though it’s only 9:00, and it could come banging in for a second visit.

Damn! That’s twice I asked him to put the screen saver maker program back in my main menu and he hasn’t. Why do I always have to beg him for things?

TUESDAY, AUGUST 3, 1999 There are 4 vehicles next door right now. What else is new, huh? Anyway, besides the van, cream pickup, and the silver car that lives there, there’s a silver pickup that was parked in the driveway but is now in front of our house. This means it moved to let the van in and out or to let a fifth car in. I’ve got the headphones on now, cuz if they’re gonna be up to badgering me, I don’t want to know about it.

Yup, a 5th car’s here. I just upped and checked. It’s a dark green car I don’t think I’ve ever seen before. I like how I’d be unable to answer if you asked me if it came in quietly or not. Anyway, as has been the case with them for a handful of weeks now, it’s pretty dead over there till we hit the late afternoons. From now till around 10:00 I’ll keep the headphones on.

I was mirroring some pictures that look better mirrored due to where my icons are. My icons are to the left side of my desktop, so if I have a cat’s face extending towards the left, it gets blocked by the icons. Therefore, I mirror it away from the icons.

I also discovered something really cool within this word processor. I’ve been using it for over 5 years now, yet I’m still learning things it can do! You can not only change text colors but you can change background colors, too. You can border text, too. This doesn’t detract from my window color or application background color. You can still see those colors. Meanwhile, it’s kind of cool to type on a pink background with lime green print if I want to.

Tom left me a message that I got when I got up saying he didn’t do anything around here today, but he has some great, great news. Unless next door’s moving with no intentions of coming back, or we’re getting a ton of money, I’m not sure it’s great news. He has a way of having a different opinion as to what’s great news than I do. He either hypes up something he says is gonna happen that’s good, or it never happens at all. Having just come from a visit with his mother, though, my guess is that it’s got something to do with money. This is a classic example of what I mean when I say he’s obsessed with making me wait on him. You mean to tell me he really couldn’t leave a message about whatever it is?

Leona called yesterday to tell us we have been approved for the loan! Not quite as much as we hoped to be approved for, but enough.

Tom says he plans on calling a Realtor Friday and hopes to have them at the house Monday, but I don’t know. We’ve been through this before, remember? How many times in the past has he given a bogus timetable as to when he wanted a Realtor out here? I lost count.

Last night I watched a documentary on spiders, believe it or not, as disgusting as they are. This is because I wanted to see if they’d show anything that resembled those huge spiders Tom and I saw. We still don’t know what they are, and the documentary said there are still thousands of spiders waiting to be classified. That’s scary.

Silver pickup is gone. For now.

Anyway, the closest I could guess is the wolf spider, but I don’t think so. Meanwhile, I learned a lot about the way fishing spiders, tarantulas, trapdoor spiders, jumping spiders, and other spiders live.

I keep forgetting to write about Chyna, another doll I saw on the doll show that’s a possibility for when we move. She’s a beautiful Polynesian doll that’s 24” with long straight black hair and eyes and a pretty pink dress. Not as big as I’d like, but gorgeous. They had her with bent legs like Bailey’s on the home shopping network for $150 and then I found 4 different versions of her online for $200 at the same height but with different outfits. Also, you can get her with straight legs or with her lying on her belly leaning on her elbows. That’s cool! Some sites let you pick out a certain mold, then you pick out its eye color, its hair color, etc. You can also save money by getting a doll undressed so you can go out and buy a dress for it yourself.

Green car is gone. For now.

Later…

Just looked out the window - green car’s back.

Later…

Gone again.

God, I’m getting sick of wearing headphones! This is no way to live. Absolutely no way to live! At least I shouldn’t have more than 3 more months of having to live this way and at least I don’t have to do this 24 hours a day. They are quiet lately late at night and early in the morning. For now, though, I’ll wear the headphones during their most active time of day so I don’t risk really flying off the deep end and beating the shit out of them.

Later…

Now here’s the blue pickup. Don’t Deb and all the other sick assholes living next door ever get sick of having so much company? Don’t they ever feel smothered and want a break? Don’t they ever just want to take a day off and spend time alone?

Later…

The blue pickup’s gone. I don’t know if it’s gone for the night, but I’ll take my chances and go without headphones for now, since this pickup’s never been a problem and I really think they’re gonna confine most of their shit to the weekends and not so soon, either. That may be why that red vehicle’s music was turned down and was even softer the second night it came around. Cuz it’s too soon. I wish I could say that they won’t be a problem from here on out cuz they just want to live in peace like we do and not have any trouble, but I know better. Sadly, they do want trouble, they don’t want to live in peace. They want to be rebellious and turn things into a competition just like the blacks did. They don’t want to get along with anybody. Certainly not us. Peace and harmony just aren’t in these freeloaders’ dictionaries. Anyway, unless there was music from over there that I didn’t hear, they’ve been quiet since the red vehicle’s shit.

MONDAY, AUGUST 2, 1999 I’m enjoying my peacetime till the freeloaders come out to scream up a storm once the sun starts setting, and God only knows what else will go on over there. That’s when I’ll headphone it till around 10:00.

The fact that they choose to hang out in front in their vehicles, rather than in the privacy of their backyard, tells me just how much they truly are desperate for attention. They want to be heard and noticed. They want to make a scene.

I didn’t think to ask Tom how he figures this, but he says that the odds are this house will go to a Mexican family. Good. Let scum be next to scum. They deserve each other. Then they can all yell and scream and blast music together. I laugh when I picture this house filled with freeloaders. Our house is bigger than next door. It’s the same width, but it goes back further cuz of the big back room that runs the length of the house that was added on in the 70s. I can just imagine some Mexican coming out of the bedroom in the middle of the night to get a drink from the kitchen and having to step over the many sleeping bodies in the way. Why do Mexicans choose to live in bunches? Could it be their insecurity? That’d make sense cuz assholes that make enemies so easily typically do feel safer when they band together with people that are just like them.

Later…

Jesus Christ! I go to watch a crime show, but instead I get childbirth. Why is there so much childbirth on TV these days? Everything’s childbirth and I’m so sick of it! When I see or hear kids, it totally reminds me of all the years of misery I spent back when I used to want a kid and knew I couldn’t have that. Just like certain sounds remind me of the NHA. It also gets old, too. Very old. There are just as many people having babies on TV as there are people getting killed.

Later…

The sun’s setting, so I expect the animals to be out any time now. Adult animals, too. They’re so fucking weird, though; hanging out in their cars, rather than on a lounge or some sort of chair in their backyard. If they’d go to the back, they wouldn’t have to worry about one of their many mistakes getting run over by a car, but that may be the best thing that could happen to it.

I’ve got the headphones on, although I don’t feel bad vibes in the air tonight like I have the last few nights. Even so, I’ve only got an 80% accuracy rate. They could surprise me anytime just like the ranchero did. I never got that bad feeling that says something’s gonna happen like I usually do before something does happen. And I thought the blacks were unpredictable and that they had a lot of vehicles coming and going from that house! What a joke! These people have very little predictability about them. The blacks usually had a schedule of some kind and usually confined their antics and company to weekends. Yes, these people have more company and childish outbursts on weekends, but still, you never know what scenes the weekdays will bring.

I took some measurements and found that this house is approximately 40’x40’. It’s square. I hate boring square houses, but the one we’re getting is a nice long rectangle that’s 76’x26’. Almost twice as long as this house. So, this property is about 55’ wide.

I didn’t think to ask Tom his reasons for wondering this, but he said he was wondering if I was having second thoughts about moving since I seem to be more intolerable lately of noise around here. First of all, I’m more intolerable cuz there’s been a lot more noise going on around here and it does make it hard when it’s just outside your window. So, I think I have good reason to feel the way I do what with such noise so close. Also, doesn’t he have it backward? Wouldn’t I be saying things to hint that I wanted to stay here if I was having second thoughts about moving? I thought that the more a person bitched about and didn’t like a particular place, the more they’d want out. Nonetheless, I have no doubts about wanting to move and be as far away from people as I can till God either does something else to badger me or moves people closer and closer to our new house. That and stereos to be made that can be heard from one state to another. I plan to live like a hermit as long as he’ll let me, though.

SUNDAY, AUGUST 1, 1999 Now I can finally write worry-free, I hope. That’s subject to change at any moment when you live next to a pack of sick freeloaders. You just never know with these people. Even so, you have no idea how much I’ve come to love the late-night and early-morning hours. Just like the black’s prime time was typically between 2 PM-8 PM, these fuckaroos reign from around 4 PM -10 PM. This is the way it has been for the last several weeks. Come winter, though, I’m sure that’ll change to something like noon - 6 PM.

I could kill them. I could really kill them! I wouldn’t think twice if I could strike them all dead at the snap of a finger. They’re really stressing both of us out and slowing him down from getting us out of here. Between the freeloaders and that fucking bank, we’re never gonna get this fucking house up for sale! Tom’s had to lose sleep and time to prep to deal with my stresses, anger, and frustrations, but if these fucking freeloaders would just back off and just leave us the fuck alone, we could get out of here faster!

Tonight was surprisingly mellow, but not last night. These people just aren’t going to let me ignore them, the sick fucks! A car I’ve never seen before, but was too dark to make out, came banging in real fucking loud last night at 9:30. Louder than the cock would blast his music. It would’ve woken me up for sure. When I went to the window, it was parked in front of our house (as if it was aimed at us), then some Mexican came and approached the driver’s side, and the music was then turned down, but still too loud. Then the car backed up in front of their house and the Mexican got into the passenger side and they just sat there. I said to myself, what? Did they steal this idea from the Mexicans that were across the street Friday night? Are they gonna have car stereos pull up blaring their music with plans to shut up and take off if the cops are called and claim they don’t know anything about it? Or that it was just someone asking for directions?

So this is when I was sorry to have to get Tom up, who’s had enough sleep robbed from him thanks to these sick freeloaders, but I wanted him to hear it too and see I wasn’t lying, then call that non-emergency number. But by the time he got to the window, there was no car there. However, we could still hear the music which stopped shortly after. He asked me if I checked to see if it was that car across the street, and truthfully, I didn’t even think to. I was so sure it was them, and I still am, that I didn’t think to bother.

Here are a few shocking things, though. The Ranchero visited last night and I never heard the thing come or go. The more I think about it, the more I believe the person with the Ranchero couldn’t visit for a while till last Wednesday. For whatever reason, be it cuz they were away, in jail, they couldn’t visit. But now that they can, they’ll be visiting regularly. Like 3-4 times a week. So when’s the white car gonna return?

Anyway, the kids have come out screaming at dusk, but fine. Just fine. Especially since it’s only short-term and can be fanned out. God, how I wish I could go back to the days when screaming kids and barking dogs were my only noise problems! That’s nothing compared to these bassy stereos! Not when you don’t have kids or dogs living in your house.

I called Tom at work cuz I was concerned for him and had a few questions for him. He said his stomach was feeling better (he always gets what I get, it seems. I had the same gassy stomach. His stress is worries over me going next door, and mine is cuz of next door’s noise harassment). Anyway, I told him all was fine, but did they yell out to him when he was leaving for work? I asked this cuz I saw a hundred kids and adults hanging out on the street in and around the cream pickup, gazing rather intently toward the garage, but couldn’t hear anything over this one kid’s screams. He said no, but his hesitation in answering made me wonder if they did, but he didn’t want to admit it for fear of my reaction towards them.

After he left, the pickup left for two hours, and an hour later, people were hanging out in the silver car that was in its place on the street. The driver’s door to the car was open and all the people milling about started making me very nervous. Again, we’re outnumbered and we aren’t the type to get trigger-happy. They are. And if they really do have death wishes or don’t mind jails and eviction, then they could do anything. So I asked Tom if he thought they were sitting there with a gun waiting to shoot him when he returned since they knew he’d gone out. He said that if they were, they were in for a very long wait, not to go outside, and all would be fine. Will it? I can’t help but have this ominous feeling of doom with these people. Take their calling the cops, for example. It hit me last night that they could’ve called them as a cover. Maybe they’re thinking that calling them will make them look like they’re the victims if they do something to us or the house. Maybe they’ll tell the cops, “See? See how bad they are? We had to call you before about them. We’re the victims and we just had to defend ourselves.”

They sat there for an hour, and the surprising thing about it was that they were actually quiet. Maybe they were remembering that we’re not their only neighbors, but I don’t think they’d mind pissing off others to get at us. Even more surprisingly, that car that banged in last night, which may’ve been a red Blazer or pickup I’ve never seen before, came banging in very softly. It pulled up twice behind the silver car. Never in front of our house.

I also saw something weird at 9:00. By the time I got to the window, I saw a girl walking at the side of the street who had possibly been talking to the people hanging out by the cars. She wasn’t really fat. Not like Deb and Fanny. She was smoking a cigarette as she began walking by the front of our house. She was looking right at our house, which made me momentarily nervous, wondering if they were going to do something to the house when she walked on past it and delivered a sheet of paper to the house to our left on the corner of W. Weldon. Then she walked across the street to the music people’s house and then that’s all I saw of her. I didn’t see how long she was there or where she went from there. I sort of got the feeling she was next-door-related, but if not, why didn’t she make a delivery here? And what was she delivering? Papers that said the people in this house are assholes? I wouldn’t put it past them to do something that childish, but fine. They can write anything they want to and give it to anyone.

So, you could say that tonight was pretty mellow. Almost soundless. Especially compared to last night. If they could be like they were tonight every night, things would be OK, but you know what? I know better. The nightmare isn’t over yet. There’ll be many more stereos to come. Many more. Every weekend is going to be hell on me, and even during the week, too.

Meanwhile, I’ve got to just cope with it. Maybe if I stand up to what God has ordered for me and just take the noise he so obviously loves to have others inflict upon me, he’ll leave me alone more so when we move. I can’t keep waking Tom up. He said I can, that he’ll listen to me bitch about it, and do whatever it takes to see me through this, which I really appreciate, but he has to sleep and get us out of here. So, come late afternoons, I’m gonna throw headphones on and keep them on till around 11:00. Especially on weekends. Also, I’ve put one of my stereo speakers by the bed again and will sleep to my music if I have to. I picked out an instrumental song of Gloria’s that’s very bassy with no obnoxious shrilly sounds like a sax to play over and over if I have to. I had Tom bang on the wall to imitate what these stereos sound like and found a suitable volume to mask bangers cruising about. I just can’t believe they haven’t woken me up yet! They will, though. I know they will. Tom suggested I wait till they wake me before I sleep to the music. OK. Meanwhile, I’ll be sleeping to it real soon.

The only thing that didn’t make sense was why this car that came twice tonight didn’t play its music louder? Why wasn’t there any music from the house? Why haven’t they gone back to all-night gabbing and yelling? Well, they will. It’s just a matter of time, and I’m sure not much time, either.

Oh, I wish they’d just up and decide they didn’t want to live next to us, move, and not come back to do anything to us or the house! That way we could have some peace around here that just might last till we’re gone. I know better, though, than to have such a fantasy. We have more of a chance of winning big in the lotto than we do of them splitting before we do.

I felt like Tom didn’t handle me and my feelings about all this too well. I mean, he did listen to me and all that, but he made me feel guilty for bitching about it by seeming all bummed and stressed out about it, and also, he punished me by denying me sex for yet another weekend. Or so he thinks. Not only do I have no desire to have sex with anyone other than my fantasies and my vibrators, but I’m also done sexually with him till we move. I’m not gonna go through the pain just yet. I’ll wait and put my crotch through it after we move. Once again, I can’t have sex too often or too seldom, and if we still can’t consistently have sex at least once a week when we move, which I know we won’t, I’m done for sex with him altogether. For the first half of our marriage, I was unhappy with our sex, then I became bored with it. If I’ve never enjoyed sex with him yet, for one reason or another, I’m obviously never going to. I’m sexually hexed and the only thing I can do about it is just not have sex. Period.

[just-aziraphale]

One Call Away

(A ficlet based on this post .)

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༻༺

They say that late-night calls carry bad news, but in Aziraphale’s experience so do seventy-three per cent of the calls during the day. Most of which are potential customers he has to get rid of by conjuring up intricate fibs. The usual ‘we are closed’ and ‘wrong number’ don’t hold up with particularly tenacious ones these days.

So when his phone rings, he doesn’t pay any heed to the clock on the wall, only sets aside the book he’s been engrossed in for several hours with a displeased groan at being interrupted in the middle of a suspenseful scene. 

Pushing the spectacles up his nose, he picks up the receiver on the fifth ring. “Hello?” He’s almost certain he can shake off whoever that is in no time to get back to his reading.

“Aziraphale. It’s me,” says the familiar voice and despite himself, Aziraphale’s pulse picks up. Since they’ve had a rendezvous as recent as yesterday to watch a play at the theatre Crowley had unexpectedly procured two tickets for, the rather early call is a genuine surprise. But before Aziraphale finds his bearings enough to point it out, Crowley pushes on, “Meet me at the fifth alternate location.”

Furrowing his eyebrows, Aziraphale plucks the spectacles he doesn’t need from his face and carefully folds them atop the book he now doesn’t hold out much hope to get back to. “Aren’t we past meeting clandestinely in questionable places, Crowley?” He finds himself asking and only then throws a furtive glance at the clock. It’s past midnight. Shouldn’t Crowley be sleeping at this hour and not phoning him? “The above and below don’t care -”

“It’s not that, angel.” There are cawing noises in the background which, if Aziraphale didn’t know better, he’d conclude were cries of disgruntled crows. But as far as he’s aware, since he’s last been to Crowley’s flat a week ago, his demon hasn’t informed him about picking up a new hobby of breeding birds. The line goes quiet for a moment, then, “Just...come at once.”

“All right,” Aziraphale concedes because he hasn’t quite learned to properly say no to Crowley. Ultimately, he only wants to spare them both some time. “Which one is that again?” You can’t blame him for not remembering all the confusing names Crowley’s come up with over the last couple of centuries for every single spot on the globe. Especially now when they finally don’t need to hide their relationship from anyone.

“The cemetery, Aziraphale.” An exasperated sigh. “For someone’s sake.”

“What are you doing, pray tell, in the middle of the night at the cemetery, my dear?” He asks, unable to keep suspicion from creeping into his voice. “What did you get up to this time around?”

“What- Nothing!” The answer is brisk and slightly breathless, not that either of them technically needs breathing, but both of them have made a habit of doing it anyway. “Why do you always assume I’m up to something?”

Aziraphale affectionately rolls his eyes. “Maybe because you’re still a demon, Crowley. Besides, it’s hardly a romantic stroll among tombstones you’re inviting me to.”

Expecting to elicit a chuckle from the other end with his particularly witty and entirely irrelevant suggestion, he picks up his mug with lukewarm cocoa from its spot by the book and takes a leisurely sip. He’s feeling smug and his cheeks might be warm, but it’s neither here nor there. Yet once again Aziraphale’s surprised to be met with an utter silence that starts ringing unpleasantly in his ears, stretching between them for too long. Not even some hypothetical birds to indicate that the line hasn’t gone dead. Has he taken it too far? Aziraphale panics and scrambles for anything else to cover it up, but as far his feelings for the demon go, promptly fails in his characteristic fashion. He forces the receiver closer to his ear. “Crowley?”

“Ngk.”

What does that mean? “Wait-”

“Yeah…” 

Aziraphale almost chokes on the cocoa and freezes, gripping the wings of his mug so tightly he can almost hear the porcelain crack. “It is?”

A deep guttural groan escapes Crowley’s throat. “What do you expect me to do, angel?” he says softly. The last time Crowley used that tone on him was after his bookshop had burned down. Back then it felt like the two of them stood on the brittle ground for various reasons, and it was for his sake that the demon refrained from making a reckless step to meet him halfway. Not to go too fast for him. But now with a pang in his chest he realises that he was wrong. “I’ve exhausted all of the courting options the human way...”

It wasn’t for Aziraphale’s sake at all - Crowley’s the one who’s been scared. And as much as Aziraphale would like to smack him upside the head for not speaking his mind sooner, for not pushing a little harder, for not feeling braver than Aziraphale could ever be, it’s the vulnerability the demon rarely shows that does the trick. “You’re an idiot, Crowley,” he tells him.

“It’s a dumb idea, I know-”

“Shut up, my dear,” Aziraphale says firmly, but there’s a smile threatening to break over his face and he can hardly contain its force. “I’m afraid I must hang up now. Turns out I have a date to get to.”

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read on AO3

[fridayfirefly]

Virtual Sleepover

Read Virtual Sleepover on AO3

Masterlist

Written for Maribat March Day 4 - Internet Friends

Quarantine had been rough at Wayne Manor, but for Tim Drake, Marinette Dupain-Cheng was a bright light through it all. Tim was getting ahead of himself, though. The story of Marinette Dupain-Cheng started on March 20th, 2020. Panic over coronavirus was sweeping the nation. Bruce had gathered all of the members of the Wayne family into the dining room to explain the new rules of the house. No one was to go in or out. Groceries would be delivered to the house. There would be no superhero outings for at least two weeks. Tim didn't think his family would be able to survive, trapped in a house together.

So to preserve his sanity, Tim turned to the internet. There were hundreds of cold cases that he had put on the backburner and hundreds of forums and websites dedicated to solving cold cases. Tim turned to the most popular website and started dumping information, hoping for someone to show up and work through it with him. That's how Tim met Marinette. @MarinetteDC showed up on his page with a friend request, a wide range of technical knowledge about textiles and designs, and about seven different theories on a murder case Tim considered all but unsolvable. Her sleep schedule was just as chaotic as Tim's and she also drank a near-inhuman amount of coffee. Marinette Dupain-Cheng enthralled Tim. And when the chaos of his house threatened to make Tim lose his mind, Marinette became his lifeline.

"Can you hear me?"

Tim nodded. "Yep!"

"Nice!" cheered Marinette. Tim relished the opportunity to see her face, even if it was through a zoom call. "So what do we want to do first? I don't have class until Monday, so we have the whole weekend ahead of us."

"I think we should start with the iconic sleepover classic: truth or dare," suggested Tim.

"Alright. Truth or dare, Tim?"

"Dare." Tim was confident in his abilities to pull off any stunt she might come up with. However, his confidence started to fade as he watched a devious look grow on her face.

"I dare you to bake a batch of cookies - any kind of cookies you want - without using a recipe."

Tim blinked, trying to recall the last time he had baked. Besides a few times helping Alfred out in the kitchen, Tim wasn't certain that he had ever used the Wayne Manor kitchen for anything other than brewing coffee and heating frozen pizzas. "Could I have a new dare?"

Marinette shook her head, the grin on her face demonstrating exactly how much fun she was having, watching the panic in Tim's eyes. "I'll give you one hint on how to make them, but only one, so use it wisely."

Tim groaned, unplugging his laptop from its charger so he could move it to the kitchen. "I'm not actually certain I know all of the ingredients in cookies. Or how long you bake them for. I feel like an hour is probably too long, but I feel like half an hour might not be enough time."

On the other side of the screen, Marinette tried to stifle her giggles but was unable to keep them all in. "No offense Tim, but this is going to be a disaster. I can't wait."

Tim let out another groan. "Must you torture me?"

"How about you keep the laptop camera pointed towards the oven, that way I can tell you once something starts to burn?" Marinette joked.

Tim knew that she was teasing, but honestly, he knew he could use all the help he could get. Still, he wanted to preserve at least a little of his dignity. "Very funny," Tim said sarcastically, setting the laptop down on the kitchen counter.

"Start with ingredients," Marinette advised.

"What all goes into a chocolate chip cookie..?" mused Tim. He got out the flour, white and brown sugar, eggs, butter, vanilla extract, and three different types of chocolate chips that Alfred kept stocked.

Marinette raised an eyebrow. "Is that all?"

Tim cast a wary gaze upon his ingredients. It didn't seem like enough, but at the same time he couldn't figure out what he was missing. Tim sighed. "I'm ready to use my hint. Tell me what I forgot."

"You forgot to get out the salt, and more importantly, the baking soda," advised Marinette.

"Can I have a second hint?" asked Tim as he gathered his two missing ingredients.

"That depends on what you're asking," teased Marinette.

"I'm going to start listing measurements, and you tell me if it's too much or not enough."

Marinette pretended to think it over before replying, "I'll do it, but only because I want the cookies to come out edible, not because we're friends or anything like that. There are no friends in the Dupain-Cheng kitchen," said Marinette, her voice filled with faux seriousness.

"Lucky for me, these cookies are being made in the Wayne kitchen, and we're all very nice here, and we don't let Tim burn his cookies."

Marinette giggled. "You have a point there," she acquiesced. "Start listing your measurements."

Tim grabbed the measuring cup and starting approximating. "Two cups flour?"

"That will make about five dozen cookies."

"One cup of each type of sugar?"

Marinette shook her head. "You'll want a 3/4 cup of each."

The rest of the measuring process proceeded smoothly, with Tim guessing measurements of fluctuating accuracy (he correctly guessed that he would need two eggs, but his guess of a half-cup of baking soda led to Marinette questioning whether he had ever been in a kitchen before).  Once Tim got the cookie dough mixed, spooned out onto a tray, and put in the oven, they resumed their game of truth-or-dare.

"Your turn, Marinette. Truth or dare?"

"Truth."

Tim tried to think of a good question to ask. "Since you've now seen how abysmal I am in the kitchen, I want to know one thing that you're terrible at."

Marinette scrunched up her brow. "It's nowhere near as bad as you're inability to crack an egg-"

Tim winced a little, remembering the painstaking process of digging out fragments of eggshell after he completely shattered it in his attempts to crack it.

"-But I have really bad depth perception. I trip over every little crack in the sidewalk. I'm probably the clumsiest person you'll ever meet."

Tim chuckled. "And here I thought you were perfect."

Marinette grinned. "Almost perfect. Truth or dare?"

"I'll pick truth this time, and hopefully avoid being humiliated again."

"I'll go easy on you this round. When was the last time you lied, and what was it about?"

Tim combed back through his memory of the past week, trying to pick out the last time he lied. "I think it was yesterday morning. Dick asked me if the coffee I was drinking was my first coffee of the day. I said yes, but really I hadn't slept that night so I just decided to arbitrarily count my start of the day at the time I would have woken up had I actually gone to sleep."

"So how many coffee's had you had yesterday?"

Tim shrugged. "Since midnight? Probably three or four. I've gotten away with a lot more coffee since I modified the Keurig in my room to stop making so much noise."

"I'm lucky," said Marinette. "My parents sleep so far away from me that they can't hear my Keurig."

"Truth or dare?" asked Tim, continuing the game.

"Truth."

"What's the most embarrassing thing you've ever done because you had a crush on someone?"

Marinette flushed red, and Tim immediately knew that this was going to be a good story. "Once I accidentally sent a text to my crush so I stolehisphoneanddeletedthetext." Marinette rushed the last few words, so fast that Tim couldn't quite make them out.

"What was that?"

"I stole his phone and deleted the text before he could read it. In my defense, I made a lot of questionable decisions at that age."

Tim burst out laughing. "How old were you?"

"I was thirteen," admitted Marinette.

Tim couldn't stop laughing at the absurdity of her claims. "You couldn't have asked him to borrow his phone and deleted it then?"

"I was in panic mode. It was between steal his phone or destroy his phone."

"Those were your two options?!" exclaimed Tim.

Marinette blushed even more furiously. "It's your turn. Don't expect me to go easy on you this round. Truth or dare?"

Tim kept up the trend. "Truth."

"What was the worst thing you did at thirteen?"

Tim thought back to his days as Robin, and the many, many stories he could tell. In the end, he settled on one that Jason still brought up when he needed leverage over Tim. "It's not as bad as phone thievery, but it's still a pretty funny story, looking back on it. You know how I have two older brothers, right?"

"Dick and Jason," Marinette confirmed.

"Well, one night I managed to convince Dick to let me drive Bruce's favorite car. Now, keep in mind, I had never actually driven a car before. Surprisingly, I wasn't that bad at driving. I made it home without incident - that is, until I tried to park the car back in the garage and accidentally crashed into Jason's motorcycle. For years after that, Jason used the threat of telling Bruce about my little car crash to keep me in line."

Marinette snorted. "You think that borrowing a phone to delete a text message is worse than borrowing and crashing a car?"

Tim shrugged. "It's a matter of opinion. Truth or dare?"

With a roll of her eyes, Marinette said, "Truth."

"What's one thing you would never tell me?" It was the sort of question that could only be asked during a game of truth or dare. In Tim's opinion, it was this sort of question that made the game worth playing.

Marinette pouted. "I don't like that question."

"Too bad. The rules of truth or dare state that you have to answer it."

"Fine." Marinette looked up at the ceiling, deep in thought. Just as she turned back to face her laptop, her face lit up. It was evident that she had an answer. "Usually I let people learn from their mistakes in the kitchen. However, I will now tell you - because I have to - that your cookies have been in the oven for too long. They're going to start burning if you don't take them out soon."

Tim jumped up to get his cookies out of the oven. They looked a little burnt, brown rather than the golden-brown that Alfred would make, but they still looked edible. "I'll accept your answer, but only because you saved my cookies."

"Now that your cookies are done, do you want to finish up our game of truth or dare?"

"One last question," decided Tim. "And I'll pick truth, to make it easy for you."

"What's the biggest secret that you've currently keeping from your family?"

After Tim's last question, he had expected Marinette to follow it up with an invasive question. Luckily, her question had a very simple answer.

"Easy question - my friendship with you."

Marinette looked confused. "What do you mean?"

"Most of my friendships begin through the connections they have to my family. Because of that, I've never really had serious friendships that my family wasn't actively involved in."

"It's not because you're ashamed of me, right?" Marinette sounded unsure of herself. Insecurity was a side of her that Tim had never seen before.

"Of course not," Tim assured her. "You're the best friend I could have ever asked for, Marinette."

"Good, because you're not getting rid of me that easy. I still have a lot to teach you about baking. I think we might try cupcakes at our next sleepover."

Tim laughed. "We'll see about that." He had no doubts that there would be sleepovers to come, and shenanigans involving baked goods to go along with them.

@maribatmarch-2k21

[gemgirl28]

Cheating and putting two request in one ask lol

#29 zutara

#81 Sokkla

Hello friend! Haha cheat away, these are some really good prompts 👀 Sorry this took forever, I was going to do them before work yesterday but got distracted by yeeting and then this morning I decided I wanted to go in an entirely different direction so here we are.

I’m going to split them up into to posts just for the sake of my sanity so up first we have Zutara. View the Sokkla one here.

29. ‘When was the last time you slept?!?’

Katara cursed under her breath, dropping the pots into the sink with a clatter. She sighed, taking a moment to calm herself down, before starting in on the dishes.

Though her workload had technically decreased since arriving on Ember Island, with the unfortunate split of their group, Katara still found herself working every minute of the day. Perhaps it was the ever increasing pressure of the impending comet, and the knowledge that Aang wouldn’t be ready. Maybe it was the unfamiliarity with the royal house, its twisting halls still a confusing mess for her.

She knew a large part of it was, since his reunion with Suki, Sokka was all but useless for aiding in chores. Though it angered her to no end, she couldn’t fault her brother for seeking a little bit of joy in the midst of the tension.

Truly though, she knew the days felt longer because she found no rest at night. Where she hoped her nightmares would cease after confronting her mother’s killer, they only resumed, this time with more terrifying additions. Sometimes her entire family was dead. Sometimes she walked into the hut to find Aang and Toph’s lifeless forms, clutching each other for solace in their last moments. Sometimes it was Zuko, with a scar over his heart as dark as the one on his face.

After the third night Katara gave up trying to fight her nightmares and instead would stay up all night, sometimes bending, occasionally reading, oftentimes catching up with the chores from the day. Which is how Zuko found her, well past midnight, angrily scrubbing at a caked on piece of rice from dinner.

“Katara?” He softly called, startling her from cursing the pot. “What are you doing up?”

“What are you doing?” She deflected, raising one hand to her chest as if that could slow the pounding of her heart. He raised his brow in suspicion but stepped forward.

“I was having trouble sleeping, so I thought I would brew a cup of tea. Your turn,” he said, rifling through the cabinets till he found the variety of tea he wanted. Katara let out a heavy breath and dropped the pot in the sink.

“I couldn’t sleep either,” she said, the half-truth rolling easily off her tongue. “I just use....other means to help me get through it.”

Zuko turned, studying her in the low light. The moonlight streaming in from the kitchen window deepened the shadows beneath her eyes.

“Katara,” he whispered, and the soft way he spoke her name sent a shiver down her spine. “When was the last time you slept?”

“I’m fine, Zuko,” she lied. His brow raised higher, silently staring at her as if he could see through her soul. 

“Fine,” she admitted. “I haven’t slept since- Since after...” She trailed off as Zuko took in a sharp breath. 

After they confronted the monster that took her mother from her, Zuko had found a cave on a deserted island for them to take shelter while the storm passed. He had held her while she cried herself out, and then when she fell asleep he held her through the night. In his arms, surrounded by his warmth and a comfort that had no right to feel so familiar, Katara had slept soundly, free from nightmares.

“Katara,” Zuko breathed, stepping close and taking her hand. “Why didn’t you say something?”

Katara shrugged and looked down at the floor. “There’s more important things to worry about than my nightmares,” she said. Zuko shook his head and cupped her chin, gently tilting her head back till she met his eyes.

“Katara your health is always important. You are important-” He froze, as if only realizing what he was saying. He shifted his hand along her jaw, carefully cradling her face. “I didn’t have any nightmares that night, either,” he confessed.

“You...didn’t?”

“No.”

Despite the cool of the night, the air felt thick, stifling with tension. Katara bit her lip, but even that small action couldn’t keep her next words from spilling out of her.

“Do you think I could stay with you tonight?”

Zuko’s eyes widened, searching hers for any hint of hesitation. “Do you think that would help you sleep?”

“It’s worth a try,” she half-joked, but it fell flat. Zuko waited another breath, two-

“I’d like that,” he whispered. Katara smiled shyly, gently weaving her fingers with his.

“Ok.” 

Tea and dishes forgotten, Katara followed Zuko to his room. She nestled against his side, sighing as he wrapped one arm around her and pulled her close.

Within minutes both were asleep. For the first time in a week they slept peacefully, free from nightmares or worries.

As Katara woke in his arms, just as the sunlight was streaming through the window, she used the opportunity to study him. She traced the lines of his jaw, the curve of his lips, the difference between his smooth and scarred skin-

Katara gasped quietly, suddenly overwhelmed by how beautiful the boy holding her was. Her heart raced, mind whirling, as she caught up to the fact that she was most definitely falling for Zuko.

As if he could hear her thoughts, Zuko woke, blinking slowly to meet her eyes. The corner of his lips twitched into a soft smile. “Good morning,” he whispered, voice raspy with sleep.

“Morning,” she muttered.

“How did you sleep?” 

“Good,” she confessed. “Really good. You?”

“Perfect,” he said.  

“That’s good.” She mentally kicked herself. Surely “good” wasn’t the only word she knew anymore.

“It is. I was thinking... As long as you need me, we could do this again?” His expression was so hopeful Katara nearly cried with relief. She didn’t tell him that she had already decided she wanted to spend the rest of her life in his arms. Instead she nodded, smiling back at him.

“I hope you’re ready, because I could need you for a long while,” she said. Zuko’s smile widened.

“As long as you’ll have me, I’m yours.”

Katara suspected he meant more than just as her personal cuddler, but it was too early, too soon for those confessions. So instead she nodded and snuggled closer.

“Good.”

Send me an atla pair and a prompt!

[greenbriar-j]

Muscle Memory, full wip, unedited 4.7k, scroll at ur own risk; tagging some people who showed previous interest @halleiswriting @chazzawrites @pe-ersona @druidx and also @pens-swords-stuff this is what I’ve been up to lately

Saint Joseph’s Catholic Church bustles with activity. It’s peculiar, for it being a weekday. More peculiar still that the bustling is being done by young men and women who could very well be engaging in… more satisfying summer indulgences.

The Youth Group’s power couple sweeps in an hour late, ever put together even when, by all rights, they ought to be melting right out of their fancy outfits. Cheers rise from the crowd when they appear, each splitting off in their own directions to their own stations.

Y Nhi beelines for the painters, flicking her sleek ponytail to make sure it’s out of the way. The girls hand her a brush while detailing what’s left to be done. Vinny bustles for the sound technicians - who, really, are already done for the day, but are staying for the social factor.

Two things to note about St. Joseph’s power couple:

Y Nhi isn’t sure she believes in God very much anymore.

They are not a couple, but it’s easier to let everyone think so than to correct it.

“Jude,” Mary says (everyone calls her Jude because she and Vinny made a big deal of it years ago), “Are you sure you can’t help out during the week?”

Y Nhi shrugs. She’s not busy or anything, but it feels wrong to shepherd children into a religion she’s falling out of - even if Vacation Bible School had been one of her favorite summer memories for her entire life. That’s where she met Vinny, after all.

Vinny, laughing with the guys at the sound booth. To be more accurate, Vinny himself is only smirking, but that’s as close to a laugh as he gets around here. Stupid smirk. Stupid boy.

“I have work. Unfortunately,” Y Nhi mutters, dragging her brush across a cardboard cutout. “Vinny’s taking the week off, so I’m picking up his slack.”

Mary grins widely at that. “I swear it’s like you’re married.”

For whatever reason, Y Nhi’s heart clenches at that. Picturing herself and Vinny in wedding attire on the altar sickens her, but putting a faceless someone in her place makes her feel worse. But it’s not like she likes him. She’s sworn to herself that she’d become a cat lady in her old age - her army has already begun with a fluffy black kitten. It’s not looking too good for her future; Toothless likes Vinny more than her. She’s already failed as a parent.

Belatedly, Y Nhi realizes she’s supposed to be engaging in a conversation, not thinking about Vinny and their co-parenting of a cat. If it can be called that.

“Don’t hold your breath. The wedding is a long way off,” she says tightly. Like. Never. Never is a long, long way off.

“I wouldn’t be too sure.”

This time, Y Nhi lets the comment slide. She paints while singing under her breath, as she always does. A long time ago, she had no qualms about belting it out, but time has weathered away her volume, reducing it to only this. No one’s noticed the change or found it strange.

The conversation turns to something - anything - else. Degrees, internships, other boys who don’t dress in all black and aren’t named Vincent Truong. Y Nhi listens, but doesn’t contribute.

By the time the call goes out for a lunch break, Y Nhi is finishing three tasks at once. One of the other girls brings her a burger, slathered with ketchup and mayo and tomatoes. Y Nhi thanks her and continues wrapping one of the white pillars in cardboard paper to simulate a palm tree.

Not long after, someone nudges her. Eyes flickering upward, she’s met with the bored eyes of her very best friend. “Bite.”

She doesn’t, not yet.

Vinny wiggles the burger he’s holding in front of her mouth. “Only half a slice of cheese. No tomatoes. Freshest patty of the batch. Eat.”

She still doesn’t take the bait, even though he’s tailored this burger to her weirdly specific tastes.

Vinny sighs. “Jude. No one’s watching you. I promise all they can see is my back.”

“That’s not what I’m worried about.” It’s true she had a complex about eating in public for a while, for reasons she’s never told anyone including him. “Just not hungry.”

“Not very Gucci of you to lie in the house of God.”

“Not very Gucci of you to breathe.”

“Jude! The fuck, man.” But he’s grinning. Not the half-assed grin he gives everyone else, but an honest, mirthful grin reserved for Toothless and Y Nhi only (usually Toothless. Damn cat).“Just eat this, okay? I’ll eat the other one.” His whole demeanor softens as he picks up the burger she had ignored - the one that is surely cold by now.

She is hungry. After all, the reason they were late is because Vinny had to coax her to every step of getting ready this morning. He even applied her eyeliner with the even strokes of a practiced hand - so practiced that even Y Nhi admits it looks like her own work. If she had a choice, she would waste away in bed for the day, but Vinny has never been much of a fan of that plan.

According to her own plan, Y Nhi had been wasting away since before yesterday’s dinner. Famished might be a better word to describe her present state.

But today is one of those days that she feels guilty cementing the married couple narrative any more than it needs to be. They’re not getting any younger, Vinny and Y Nhi, and just because she’s sworn off marriage doesn’t mean he has. How’s he supposed to get a nice girlfriend if she keeps hanging around?

Objectively, it’s a stupid reason to risk passing out in a church of all places, but something about him just makes her stupid. Always has.

The longer she ignores his peace offering, the twitcher he gets. He finishes his own burger in ten massive bites. When Y Nhi still doesn’t eat hers, he eats that whole thing too. “We’re leaving early. Say an hour? Think about what you want to eat.”

With that, he’s gone. Y Nhi is not hyper aware of his presence as it moves through the open space. She does not miss having him next to her. Not even a little.

-

Y Nhi writes, appetite??? in her journal when she gets home. It’s the third time something of this nature has appeared on its list which isn’t titled - but if it was it would be something like “Things About Vinny T. that Don’t Make Sense.”

Even after inhaling two burgers, he took her out for pho and Thai tea, and he ate so slow that his noodles expanded in the broth. Still, he finished a medium bowl with relative ease, and Y Nhi was content after she’d finished a small.

How does someone who eats like that look like that? It has to be some sort of stupid freaky metabolism. Genetic polymorphism, she thinks, then adds that she might be incorrectly using the term she’d heard in class about two semesters ago.

She writes freeloading on the list. It’s not technically true, but he spends enough time at her place to make it feel like it. Right this minute, he’s setting up the living room to sleep in, awaiting her delivery of the overnight bag he always leaves stocked in her apartment for emergencies.

That goes on the list too. Definition of ‘emergency.’

According to recent months, an alarming amount of things fit under this category of Vinny’s mind. It might be nearing time to stage an intervention, but who’s Y Nhi to tell him to relax when she’s the one bordering on anxiety attacks all the time? Only god knows how many times he’s clutched her shaking hands until they stopped.

Y Nhi closes the journal. Snaps the band over the cover. Shoves it under her pillow. Vinny wouldn’t dare read it to begin with, but for some reason, she doesn’t even want him to know of its existence.

Quickly divesting herself of the impeccable outfit she’d worn for the day, she slips easily into one of Vinny’s large, large shirts and the shorts she affectionately calls game day shorts. Ever since high school, she’s worn them for events that require equal amounts of comfort and courage - or just for comfort, to be honest.

“Hey, loser,” she greets Vinny, emerging from her room. He’s got her guitar in hand, and is humming some tune that she recognizes but can’t place. “Your stuff is on my bed. Have you seen Toothless?”

He nods, and keeps playing. It’s in experience, being stared at with such intense eyes while trying not to stare at the other party’s stupid pretty hands playing her guitar. Fuck him, honestly, she thinks angrily.

Leaving him there, she pours each of them a glass of water in the kitchen. A shadow looms on top of the fridge, and she jumps. “Toothless, baby. Please stop napping on the fridge.”

Toothless is not napping. He stands up, shakes his tiny body and hops to the counter, then to the floor, twining around Y Nhi’s feet before scuttling off.

Vinny is singing now. It’s a new song, she supposes, and it sounds like a love song.

Slowly, Y Nhi moves around the kitchen, making as little noise as possible while doing absolutely nothing. She just wants to listen to Vinny and his new love song without him watching her reaction.

Once she gets past the lyrics about gentle touches and midnight escapades, she realizes something. Re-entering the living room, she deposits his water on the table. “Is that my melody? Why would you steal it?”

The guitar is placed awkwardly on the floor, the neck of it leaning on the couch. “Oh, is that where it’s from? Thought it was familiar,” he says with mild disinterest. “Well, I wasn’t that attached to it anyway.”

“Are you saying it sucks?” Y Nhi settles on the floor on the other side of the table, pulling her knees into her chest. Glancing through her lashes, Y Nhi watches Vinny’s expressions.

“I’m saying I’m not taking your work, you brat.” Then he hesitates. “I mean. Can I, just for one person?”

“What the fuck.”

Vinny twitches, finally. “I… Wrote the song for someone… So I’d like to sing it for her, just once.”

Something vile rises in her throat, and she wishes Toothless would notice her distress. Hugging the cat might make her feel a little better about the fact that Vinny’s written a song about a girl using her melody - and it’s not about herself and for some odd reason, that bothers her.

“Can- Can I hear it?” Y Nhi asks in a tiny voice. It’s easier than No, you cannot take my song to sing to some other girl who will take you away from me.

“Haven’t you been hearing it?”

“Vincent.” Because that’s easier than You colossal idiot, what shit are you pulling after two years?

“Jude-”

She stands suddenly, fleeing to her room. Shutting the door, locking it, she tries to breathe. Of all people, Vinny should be the last person to push her to this reaction. She doesn’t know what to think.

Vinny knows.

Vinny knows where her hard limits are. Technically, he hasn’t passed them. But he’s pretty damn close.

Y Nhi slips into the shower, leaving it on the hottest setting to boil the emotions out.

-

For the next two days, Y Nhi doesn’t emerge from her room. Her phone dies, and she lets it. Her body self-destructs in hunger and dehydration from crying, and she lets it. She stays in bed for most of it. Whether Vinny continues to sleep on the other side of the wall for those nights, she doesn’t know. Nor care.

It’s punishment for believing she might be ready to give love another chance.

-

The third day, a letter slips under her door.

She almost flushes it down the toilet without reading it. Everything is in position to do so, paper fluttering in unsteady hands above the toilet bowl. But she wants to know. What can Vinny possibly say for himself?

Jude. I wrote the song for you. I didn’t mean to steal your tune - honest to god, I didn’t. But when I found out, I thought it was fitting that we’d worked on it together. (“Together”)

Jude, the song is up to your interpretation, but it’s yours. I wrote it from my core, and it’s yours. Charge your fucking phone and check the lyrics I sent you.

Take a shower, and call me when you’re ready. You have a few days’ worth of takeout in the fridge. Please take care of your health; I know you’re not right now. I mean it in the best way.

It cuts off there. Unceremonious and blunt, and so very him. She hates it very much.

Y Nhi charges her phone while she showers. Working quickly because she’s so unsteady on her feet, she does the bare minimum before stumbling into the kitchen for food.

While she nibbles on the stir fried noodles he left, she pens her own note.

Vinny,

I will not read the lyrics. I don’t want to know, and you don’t have to pretend it’s about me.

Your joke took two years to reach completion. Congratulations. I hope I was amusing and that my downfall wall be the stunning conclusion you wanted.

She tapes it on her front door so he’ll see it the next time he comes over. Soon, probably.

Momentarily, she wonders if she’s being rash. Is it so impossible to think that he could find romantic attraction to her?

Then she remembers. Y Nhi is not built to be loved, if her history is anything to go by. Even if she’s wrong, even if Vinny loves her for real, she will resist. Losing him this way is better than the alternative: watching him dissolve to some monstrosity while loving her.

-

Nothing changes after that. Apart from Vinny’s absence from her apartment, they interact in exactly the same way.

Vinny says something borderline rude.

Y Nhi retorts with something blatantly rude.

They laugh about it and move along.

There are no gentle touches to avoid because Vinny rarely touched her to begin with - despite the way he slings his arm around everyone else, he wasn’t like that with her. No arm around her shoulder, no hugs, not even extended contact with her hair.

Y Nhi pretends not to notice when he goes through a full dinner with an arm draped over the back of his friend Justin’s chair. He leans on it, adding the tiniest space between himself and Y Nhi. He still passes her the condiments and spices she likes before she asks for them. He takes her home at the end of it.

This should be enough. Up until now, it always had been. These tiny acts were his long distance hugs. It had always been enough, but now it isn’t, and Y Nhi doesn’t know what to do.

Isn’t this what you wanted? For him to get a life away from you?

“How’s that girl?” She asks on the way home, just because the silence is killing her and perhaps because she’s a masochist. “The one you wrote the song for?”

Vinny looks at her for a brief moment, something like grief in his eyes. It’s a confusing expression. “She hasn’t really talked to me since.”

Y Nhi tries not to sit straighter at this revelation. “Oh, really? Hm. That sucks.”

“Yeah.”

Something about the word is profoundly heartbroken. She can almost feel the emotions hurtling off him in waves, but he doesn’t lash out at her. All it does is enclose each passenger of the car in a separate bubble. This is the closest they’ve been in a long time, but Y Nhi has never felt so isolated.

Her throat constricts, and her hands start to shake. “Do you… Know why?”

Vinny thinks for a moment, tapping his fingers on the wheel. “I think she doesn’t believe me. But I don’t really think it’s me, I think she thinks that love is meant for everyone except herself. She’s pretty bent on self-destruction now, as far as I can tell - No, don’t say anything yet.”

Every girl Vinny’s talked to in the last week pops up in her mind. Which of them seems most self-destructive? If she can’t keep herself by his side, he should at least have someone who can care for him. She could talk to them, probably, if she knew who it was.

“I… She thinks this is sudden, but I’ve been in love with her since I was fifteen. Or something. Like it kind of just happened over time, and I thought she knew.”

Fifteen means Vinny’s been futilely in love with someone else while she fell for the guy who ended up cheating on her.

They were happy in high school. It was college that broke them. Distance. The communications became less frequent in an inverse relationship to Y Nhi’s alcohol intake. Her grades suffered, and she convinced herself that she was too stupid for higher education. On his birthday, she drove for hours to his dorm to surprise him, only to find him making out with another girl. Sober.

Not that any level of inebriation could excuse him, but perhaps it would’ve hurt a little less.

Vinny isn’t done. “I fucking cut fruit for her every time we hung out. I did her dishes sometimes. I don’t know, I- I thought I did everything right. My mom thought I was doing everything right.”

“You tell your mom about your love life?”

Y Nhi doesn’t. Her parents don’t care enough to know anything about it beyond that she let go of a future doctor and that she’ll never find another because she’s past her prime. That’s what it feels like, anyway.

She’s literally twenty four. She has time.

“Not really. But they’ve met.” Vinny parks the car in front of her apartment, but he makes no move to get out or to let Y Nhi get out. “Jude, listen to me.”

“I’m listening,” she says. Training her eyes on her kitchen window, she thinks about the dishes she hasn’t done yet, the fruit she hasn’t cut yet, and how she hates thinking about it because it reminds her Vinny is fading.

Human adaptability is a remarkable thing. One more week, and this new normalcy will cement itself.

“The girl I love is you. Okay? I’ve walked around the topic for years, and I understand if you’re still not ready for it. But I know you’re getting the wrong idea in that head of yours. It’s you, and it’s always been you, and I’ll spend the rest of my life proving it if you let me. I’ll also bow out forever if that’s what you need from me. But I need you to talk to me. I-”

Holy shit, is he about to cry? With wild eyes, she glances at him. If she’s made him cry, he’ll return the favor five-fold. No, she backtracks. That’s not Vinny. That’s the behavior of her second ex, the one that reduced her to a stiff puppet of a girl.

“Come back to me,” he says in a small, strangled voice. “I don’t even care if you break me in the process, but please come back to me. You can do whatever you want, as long as you do it by my side.”

For the longest moment, they say nothing. Then Y Nhi opens the car door. “Can you cut my strawberries for me? They taste better when you cut them.”

-

Vinny washes her dishes and her strawberries and quarters the already small fruit for her. He deposits the snacks in front of her and watches her eat - slowly, since they’ve just come back from dinner, after all.

“So it’s me?”

“Always has been.”

“And you never said anything.”

“I did. You ignored it on purpose.”

“No, I’m just a stupid hoe.”

“You’re not stupid. Or a hoe.”

“You’re always calling me stupid.”

“Not like that, stupid.”

“You’re going to have to undo a lot of damage if we date.”

“I know. I’ve been working on it already, didn’t you notice?”

“Yeah, but it’s gonna get worse if we date.”

“Have you considered therapy?”

“Vinny, I’ll be a pariah.”

“A happy one, maybe.” Hesitantly, he reaches for one of her hands. Halfway, he flips the palm up and waits for her to complete the gesture on her own. “You don’t have to decide right away. It’s just a thought.”

She puts her hand in his a little too eagerly, then pulls back a little too harshly. It feels like touching the flame of a candle.

A defeated look momentarily crosses Vinny’s eyes, but Y Nhi barely has the time to look at it before she steels her nerves and takes hold of his hand again. The coldness of his rings grounds her somehow. “We need a list,” Y Nhi says, “of things. First, you’re going to Google touch starvation.”

Her best friend jerks in a little victorious motion, jamming his knee unceremoniously on the table leg as he does. “Fuck, that hurt.”

“What was that about?”

“I wasn’t sure if you were actually touch starved or if you didn’t like men touching you.”

“And you didn’t ask?” Y Nhi is incredulous.

“How am I supposed to ask? ‘Jude, when I touch you, does it remind you of your sleazy ex boyfriends?’ You’d say no. Like a liar. Or so I thought.” He pauses. “Anyway, this means I can hug you now, right? 24/7.”

“If you ease into it.”

“And you’ll stop wearing those gigantic shirts that literally drown you.”

“...No. What?”

“Okay, never mind, nothing. What else? What other boundaries do we have?”

Of all questions she’s been asked today, this one is probably the most confusing. Her previous relationships are no help; she hasn’t exactly had the best exposure to “healthy relationships.” She’s aware that the bare minimum counts as decadence for her, so the question has her a little frozen.

After watching her face flicker through whatever emotions it’s displaying, Vinny rubs a thumb over her knuckles. “How about this: I have a specific thing I want your help with, and when things come up, we can talk about it.”

Y Nhi nods, though they both know she won’t talk about shit. But perhaps watching Vinny sort out whatever issue he needs sorted will give her inspiration on how to approach this. “Can we-?” She starts and stops abruptly.

Vinny blinks, then feeds her a strawberry slice. “Go ahead.” It’s a tactful move. Putting food in her mouth means she has to chew, meaning she has a few more seconds to gather herself and her thoughts, or at the very least, the desire to continue speaking.

“Can we not label this?” She finishes. “Whatever is between us.”

To her surprise, Vinny nods and acts like she hasn’t asked the bitchiest question of the night. “Sure.” You can do whatever you want, he’d said, as long as you do it by my side.

“And… Get rid of Jude.”

“What?”

“Jude. You remember why I picked that name?”

“Because of some fictional fairy queen that had the same name? You thought she was a conniving boss ass bitch and-”

“Shut up. Saint Jude. Patron saint of?”

Technically speaking, he hasn’t been wrong about the fairy queen bit. Unlike the suckers who fell for Cardan Greenbriar, Y Nhi’s wimpy ass was all in for Jude Duarte, mortal queen of the fae. And it was easier to admit that than to admit the truth that was dawning on Vinny’s face in 3… 2...

“Hopeless causes,” Vinny answers easily. Then his expression sobers. “Oh.”

Y Nhi nods. “But the me with you isn’t a hopeless cause. I don’t want her to be, anyway.”

There’s a lot that goes unsaid, but she’s certain Vinny hears it. Logically, she can’t keep relying on whatever instinct says, He’ll understand because he’s Vinny, but up to this point, it should work out okay.

Gently, he says, “Y Nhi,” reacquainting himself with the syllables of her given name. “Y Nhi.”

“Yes, Vinny?” She says just as gently.

He lowers his voice to a husky whisper, “You’ve never been a hopeless cause. You were a cause for hope.”

-

Vinny’s request is this: that Y Nhi teach him to be soft again.

The request makes her question if she and Vinny exist in the same dimension because who the hell convinced him he wasn’t soft? Hardened, prickly souls don’t master winged eyeliner for the sake of their loved ones. They don’t volunteer extra hours at Vacation Bible School while working graveyard shifts at the hospital. Don’t do the dishes because as much as they hate them, their roommate hates them more.

Vinny is soft, and Y Nhi is out for blood. “I need names, Vincent. And addresses if you have them.”

“My ex,” he says.

An awkward sound emerges from Y Nhi’s throat.

He raises an eyebrow at her. “What? I dated around. Didn’t think I should be hung up on you, but nothing ever went as planned. Anyway, my one ex did a really good job making me become someone I wasn’t. I didn’t like the person she made me, but it was kind of too late to turn around.”

Again, Y Nhi is confused. The narrative is promising, though, so she lets him continue in hopes that it’ll clear something up.

“If you don’t know me, how would you describe me?”

“Vinny.” She doesn’t have an answer, she just doesn’t want to say it. It’s not all good, and they just came back from an awkward fight. Was it a fight?

They’ve slipped back into their normal existence so easily. Nothing has changed, but at the same time, everything has.

“Just- The rings and the black and the tattoos. You’d think I drove a motorcycle or something, right?”

“You drive a Lexus. It’s the same in terms of your fuck boy vibes.”

“Y Nhi!”

“BMW would’ve sealed the deal. How many Hennessys do you drink a night, again?”

A pout settles on his face. She likes this version of him. “I see you get my point. I look like a baddie.”

“Yeah. Bad at life.”

“I swear to god.”

“Don’t do that, that’s a sin. Don’t use the lord’s name in vain and all.”

“Anyway. You of all people know I am soft, actually. She didn’t like that. And so I gained a second personality and-”

It’s rude, the way Y Nhi interrupts, but Vinny doesn’t seem to mind at all. “So if you’re always soft, what’s left for me to help you with?”

“You’ll see,” he says. “Actually. No, I’m going to tell you. I get embarrassed about my relationships. So if it ever looks like I’m pushing you away… I’m just really fucking embarrassed, at least for this first stage. Do what you will with that.”

- bonus/epilogue -

They return home for Y Nhi’s mom’s birthday. They’ve always rode home together, since they are neighbors no matter where they are. No one finds it odd that they hold hands more than before, that Y Nhi is still averse to touching everyone but him.

They appear at social events hanging on each other’s arms. Commentary about their status as a “married couple” breeze over their heads, but they never confirm nor deny anything. In public, they remain aloof to each other. They show tenderness in only the smallest of gestures.

In private, they are as they ever were. Vinny still does her eyeliner on her bad days, but now she cuddles him on the couch on his bad days. Between the two of them, there are a lot of bad days, days when they almost threw in the towel.

But they didn’t. Instead, they’ve introduced all manner of pet names (Vinny’s favorites to use are love, darling, and lately, em. Y Nhi’s favorites are Vinny and anh). They write songs to each other, for each other, with each other. Every morning, they make the choice to keep loving each other the way they have since they were fifteen - and while they joke that they wasted so much time, it was a necessary time for them to spend apart to learn how to exist together and how to choose each other even when it’s the harder choice than letting go.

Even I get lonely too

It’s not hard

Every question’s got an answer

And mine is you

Where you go then I will follow

All my life

You’re the name that I will whisper to the night

[btxtreads]

Underneath the Stars | H.Kai

➳ The stars will always shine, even if it can never shine brighter than the moon.

↳ Pairing: Hueningkai x Reader

↳ word count: 4.4k

↳ genre: fluff, like a tinee bit of angst, messy bc i was writing this with no idea of what plot to do also i think the ending is rushed but i still went past 12kst so what use was that rush sakjsjka, Hogwarts AU with a babie hufflepuff kai!

↳a/n: Belated happy birthday hueningie. Ningningdungies enjoy this half-baked Hufflepuff Kai fic

It was a cloudy day, perfect for students as they walked around aimlessly at the grounds before the anticipated quidditch match between Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff started.

Hueningkai, the Hufflepuff seeker, should have been making his way down to the Quidditch Pitch.

That’s why Y/N was so confused why they chose to be up in the owlery—laughing maniacally at her in amusement.

“Why are you even here?” She whined, clutching her letter to her chest.

“Well, I was curious why you weren’t in the stands to cheer me and Taehyun on,” Kai grinned, wiggling his eyebrows in a teasing manner. “Clearly, you’re more interested in sending a letter to a certain Slytherin,”

Kai laughed again, dogding a flying shoe courtesy of the girl.

“Good aim, want me to train you for Chaser?” Kai said nonchalantly, walking closer to the owls.

“No, thank you. Shouldn’t you be down at the pitch?” Y/N sighed in irritation, clutching the letter closer to her as he scooted closer—his eyes trained on the small envelope.

“Not going without you,” Kai snorted, crossing his arms. “What did you even say in the letter?”

“I’m going to confess—tonight at the Astronomy tower,” Y/N declared firmly, before burning red again as she shot Kai a small pout. “Do you think he’ll like me.”

Kai only gave her a small smile.

“He’d be stupid if he didn’t,” Kai grinned, gesturing his head over to the envelope. “Now, come on. Send that off and let’s go, we have a match.”

Y/N huffed, raising the envelope to Beomgyu’s owl—watching as it opened its wings and flew off to drop the anonymous envelope to Beomgyu.

It’s been a year, huh? Can we meet at the astronomy tower at midnight? I have something to ask you about the Yule Ball in a few weeks. -your admirer.

Y/N has always been around Soobin, Yeonjun, Beomgyu, Taehyun and Kai for as long as she can remember.

Growing up, the five boys were practically hounding at her every day.

Soobin was her older brother, the perfect brother one can have—doting but not too overbearing, talented and charming, smart but can be airheaded most times.

It was through him that she met Yeonjun, his soon-to-be best friend and new next-door-neighbor.

Of course, that automatically meant meeting Yeonjun’s little brother, Beomgyu.

The mischievous pest warmed up really quickly to her—what with their mutual desire to torture their older brothers with endless pranks.

Then, they met Taehyun and Hueningkai through their parents.

Kai’s mother and Taehyun’s father were good friends with their parents, as well as Yeonjun’s and Beomgyu’s.

Of course, a reunion between old friends means a meeting between their children—and the moment Y/N met Kai she swore she found her other half.

Platonically speaking.

Sure, Taehyun and Beomgyu were so in sync with him, and Soobin and Yeonjun were just the perfect hyungs to be.

Y/N was different.

She was instantly hooked the first time he gave her the softest smile—introducing himself as “Hueningie” instead of his actual name of Kai and offering a cuddle of his plushie as a welcoming gift.

It wasn’t until they were around 10 years old when Y/N started realizing what love was—it was what she felt for her other best friend—Beomgyu.

Of course, Hueningkai knew this.

Of course, he didn’t say anything.

Even if he knew her love would hurt him in the long run.

Y/N rushed, hands shaking as she made her way up the Astronomy to finally tell Beomgyu how she’s felt for years.

She made sure she wouldn’t make him wait—going there thirty minutes before even the agreed time.

But it seems like someone beat her to the punch—two someones.

By the observation deck stood Beomgyu, cheeks burning red as he conversed with a short girl with long brown hair.

Lee Daeun—Slytherin, one of the prettiest in her house, and Beomgyu’s crush since freshman year.

He swore up and down that he grew out of his crush on her—obviously not with the way he blushed a bright red.

“This is you?” Beomgyu asked as he held a couple of envelopes in his hands—all love letters that Y/N herself wrote throughout the duration of the year.

“Yes,” Daeun replied shyly as she tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “I really liked you, Beomgyu, so I thought I should send you some letters,”

Beomgyu smiled softly.

“You do?”

“I do,”

“What did you want to ask me?” Beomgyu asked gently, hand reaching out to grab the girl’s.

“Will you take me to the Yule Ball, Beomie?” Daeun asked, using Kai’s childhood nickname that only Y/N was allowed to use.

Instead of bringing that up, Beomgyu’s eyes brightened up as his smile widened even more.

As Y/N watched the scene from a the doorway, arms circled around her waist and a chin rested on her head.

“It’s okay,” Kai sighed, tightening his grip.

“What are you doing here?” Y/N asked, hand trailing down to grip his tightly.

Hueningkai buried his face in her hair, muttering as his eyes locked onto the scene in front of him—Daeun giggling non-stop as Beomgyu smiled brightly.

“I’m here to tease you,”

“Then tease me,” Y/N replied, voice wavering. “Tell me how stupid I am for falling in love with one of my best friends.”

“Falling in love with your best friend isn’t stupid,” 

Y/N didn’t reply, watching as Beomgyu leaned forward and planted a kiss on Daeun’s lips.

Kai didn’t speak as Y/N turned around, burying her head in his chest and starting to cry.

He just tightened his grip on her.

“Falling in love with your best friend hurts, Kai,”

Kai smiled sadly.

“I know,” Kai said. “I know how it feels,”

There, four beating hearts stood underneath the same bright stars—nothing but the shining moon to witness the pain and heartache.

The next day, Kai sat next to Y/N and Soobin in the Gryffindor table—chewing happily on a pancake.

Mina, the Gryffindor prefect passed by.

“Aren’t you supposed to be at the Hufflepuff table?”

Kai only grinned.

Soobin, who was the other Gryffindor prefect, waved his hand nonchalantly.

“It’s nothing big,” Soobin replied, tearing into another piece of bread—continuing his statement with a mouthful. “People do it all the time,”

“I’m sorry—house divisions exist for a reason. Tables are separate for a reason and—“ Mina’s eyes hardened, mouth opening to argue more.

A body decked in an emerald green plopped down next to Soobin with a groan.

“It’s 7:00 AM on a Sunday, Mina,” Yeonjun glared. “Literally take that stick out of your arse and leave us alone,”

“A Slytherin—“

“Leave or I’ll tell Professor Binns you cheated on your History of Magic exam yesterday, Ms. Prefect,” Yeonjun hissed, effectively shutting down the girl.

After Mina huffed and marched away, Yeonjun rolled his eyes.

“Good morning,”

Soobin greeted back—mouth still full of bread loaves—while Hueningkai waved.

Y/N just gave a weak smile.

“Why are you here?” Soobin asked once he swallowed down his food.

Taehyun arrived, sitting down next to Hueningkai—his blue robes standing out.

“Is it because Beomgyu and his new girlfriend are getting too disgusting?” Taehyun asked, reaching out to take a slice of meat from the serving plate in front of Hueningkai.

“It’s 7 in the morning—I have no patience for that crap—“ Yeonjun said, before raising his voice. “Or you, Mina—shut it!”

Soobin continued chewing, eyebrows furrowing inquisitively.

“Wait,” Soobin tilted his head. “He has a girlfriend now?”

“Yeah, Lee Daeun,” Yeonjun grumbled.

“But—“ Soobin started, is eyes falling on his sister. “Oh, so that’s why.”

“Can we not talk about this?” Y/N asked.

“Talk about what?” Beomgyu’s voice asked as he appeared behind them, hands on Y/N’s shoulders happily.

“Nothing,” Kai grumbled as Beomgyu raised an eyebrow.

“Okay?” He laughed, hand tugging on the sheepish girl behind him. “Everyone, this is Daeun. My girlfriend.”

Y/N didn’t react, only continuing to poke with her food.

“Hi,” Yeonjun grumbled.

“How exactly did this happen?” Soobin piped up.

“Or when?” Taehyun added.

“Last night,” Beomgyu recalled happily. “Remember the letters I’ve been getting? It’s all her.”

Soobin and Yeonjun—who both found out about the letters—and Taehyun—who, much to the dismay of Kai, suggested Y/N do the letters—all widened their eyes to look at the Slytherin girl giggling next to Beomgyu.

“No, she isn’t,” Yeonjun said, pursing his lips at the glare Kai sent his way.

“I am,” Daeun said happily, giggling as she leaned on Beomgyu’s arm. “And now we’re dating and going to the Yule Ball,”

Before anyone could say anything, Y/N slammed her fork on the table and wiped her lips with a napkin.

“I’m not hungry anymore.” Y/N said.

Beomgyu furrowed her eyebrows.

“Y/N, you barely ate.”

“I lost my appetite.”

“But why—“

“That’s because anyone would lose their appetite with you and your girlfriend around, Choi,” a voice declared. “I would retch.”

Kai groaned, head slamming on the table in exasperation.

Soobin continued eating as Yeonjun started to mix a cup of coffee for him and Taehyun—invested in the scene in front of them.

Beomgyu’s eyes immediately darkened as he looked over at the approaching Gryffindor.

It was true—no matter how much a Slytherin or a Gryffindor liked each others’ houses, there’s always that one person from another house that they hate.

In Beomgyu’s case, that was Song Hanbin.

“I don’t recall you being part of the conversation,” Beomgyu quipped to which Hanbin only smirked.

“I don’t recall your friends inviting you over to eat with them,” Hanbin shot back.

“Technically, we invited no one—they just came on their own,” Soobin said, which was ignored.

“Anyways, Choi, don’t worry your pretty little head—I’m not here for you,” Hanbin said. “I’m here for Y/N.”

The said girl’s head shot up, along with Kai’s.

Hanbin turned, smiling over at Y/N.

“I think you’re really beautiful, and I’ve been admiring you from afar for years now,” Hanbin started.

At this point, Hueningkai’s eyes were wide open—a signal for help sent to his hyungs, who were the only ones who knew about his feelings for Y/N.

Granted, he felt weird that her older brother was so invested in his sister’s love affairs.

Soobin and Yeonjun only exchanged a look of panic, Taehyun next to them signalling a cut across his neck.

“Stop it now!” Taehyun mouthed.

“I think you’re a really smart, captivating girl,” Hanbin continued. “And I’d really like it if you went to the Yule Ball with me,”

At this point, Y/N’s eyes darted all over her friends’ faces.

Beomgyu was positively fuming while Hueningkai was burning bright red in panic.

“She’s not going with you,” Beomgyu replied for Y/N.

“Well, that’s not your choice, is it? Focus on your girlfriend.” Hanbin replied, mocking Beomgyu before Y/N spoke.

“I’m not going with you—“ Y/N said. “I’m going with Hueningie,”

At this, Yeonjun, Beomgyu, Taehyun, Soobin and even Kai himself stopped—freezing as Y/N smiled over at Hanbin.

“Thank you, Hanbin. I’m flattered, but I’m already going as Kai’s date.”

“You are?” Kai squeaked as Beomgyu furrowed his eyebrows.

“That’s unfortunate,” Hanbin smiled, shrugging as he backed away. “Better luck next time, eh?”

“Sure,” Y/N nodded, looking back at Kai.

“You’re going with me?” Kai said, a hopeful tone to his voice.

“Of course,” Y/N started, but was cut off by Beomgyu shaking his head.

“No, you’re not?” Beomgyu said, making Y/N turn to him.

“Why not?”

“You don’t like him, right?” Beomgyu said. “Why are you going on a dance with him?”

“None of your concern, Beomie, or maybe I should just call you Beomgyu.” Y/N sighed, standing up and sending an exasperated nod to a frozen Daeun.

“Huh?” Beomgyu asked.

“Have a nice day,” Y/N cracked a small smile as she nodded over to the couple.

As she left, Kai stood up—shooting Beomgyu an incredulous look.

“Next time, try to clarify who exactly you’re talking to and meeting,” Kai said. “Daeun didn’t send those letters.”

Kai left, following Y/N.

One by one, Taehyun, Soobin and Yeonjun took their leave.

Hogsmeade—the district next to Hogwarts where students frequent to do their purchases and spend on a whim during their stay in Hogwarts.

Soobin and Yeonjun—one of the most sought-after in the school—decided to play a prank on their admirers by going to the ball together.

When offered to buy dress robes together, Yeonjun and Soobin refused to go with Kai and Y/N, choosing to go to instead head to the Shrieking Shack (which the both of them have seen a couple of times already, but still frequent to scare the innocent students looking at it for the first time).

Taehyun decided to be a lone wolf—stating that he’d either leave early or make fun of people with Soobin and Yeonjun.

For dress robes, he said he made a promise to go with his Ravenclaw buddies.

No one has talked to Beomgyu since that day with Daeun.

All five promised to meet up at Three Broomsticks at exactly 7 in the evening. It was currently only 2 in the afternoon.

Kai and Y/N found themselves in Gladrag’s Wizardwear—only among the selected few who decided to go for dressrobes first.

Taehyun was already finished by the time they arrived—waving a goodbye and promising to be at Three Broomsticks.

“Yeonjun and Soobin are going to be stuck in line later,” Y/N said as she thumbed through the selection of dresses.

Kai, with arms already holding a brand new set of plain black dress robes, snorted.

“We did tell them to come with us,” Hueningkai said, eyes locking onto Y/N’s arms. “Will you be wearing all of these?”

“Trying out some of them, yeah,”

“I think you look really beautiful in blue,” Kai said, burning bright red when Y/N looked at him in shock. “Just—Just a suggestion,”

Y/N smiled softly.

“What about red?”

“I think you look beautiful in everything,” Kai said, coughing akwardly as he looked off to the side. “I just really like blue.”

“Okay,”

In the end, Y/N got a beautiful blue dress and they left the store with bags carried in Kai’s left hand, and Y/N holding the other.

Hands still tightly clutched in Hueningkai’s, Y/N pouted as she tried to choose what flavor of no-melt ice cream she would purchase for the day.

“Maybe mint chocolate?” Kai suggested making the girl wince, looking over at the boy who was already eating his own ice cream in the wretched flavor.

“That’s disgusting,” Y/N hissed, scrunching her nose up in disgust. “It’s like eating cold toothpaste.”

“No, it’s not!” Hueningkai argued, making the girl roll her eyes and settle on a flavor.

“Vanilla with Cookie Dough, please,” Y/N requested.

“That’s so boring,” Kai commented as Y/N received her own cup.

“You’re boring!” Y/N shot back.

With a grin, Hueningkai shoved a spoonful of mint chocolate ice cream in Y/N’s mouth—laughing maniacally.

Y/N whined as she pulled the spoon out.

“It tastes so weird,” Y/N groaned.

Hueningkai laughed as Y/N continued to whine, stopping when he saw Y/N’s lips with a small crumb of ice cream.

“Your—uh—“ Kai said. “You have um—“

“What?”

Kai didn’t reply, reaching out and brushing the corner of her lips.

Y/N’s eyes widened as Hueningkai blushed, brushing the crumb off of his hand.

“You had a—“ Hueningkai stopped, eyes locking with Y/N’s. “Something.”

Y/N didn’t speak, eyes searching his as Hueningkai started to lean down.

“Excuse me, are you guys still in line?”

Y/N flinched, stepping back in surprise as Hueningkai turned to a bored-looking Slytherin.

“Oh, uh, no,” Kai replied, hastily pulling Y/N out of the way. “Sorry,”

“Next time, make out somewhere more private than a sweets shop.”

Y/N blushed red as Hueningkai stammered.

Next to them, the ice cream clerk was smiling.

Y/N sat next to Hueningkai in Three Broomsticks—laughing loudly as Yeonjun and Soobin started to argue about some stupid things.

Taehyun smirked off at the side, chiming in every once in a while to aid either party to make the argument bigger and bigger.

Hueningkai and Y/N sat side by side, hands awfully close to one another.

The Hufflepuff breathed deeply, ready to grab Y/N’s hand and intertwine it with his before—

“Hi,” A voice greeted meekly, revealing a shy Slytherin walking up to the table.

“Beomgyu?” Y/N asked in surprise as Beomgyu stepped forward. “Where’s Daeun?”

Beomgyu pursed his lips, shaking his head.

Y/N’s eyes turned sympathetic, hand reaching out to land on Beomgyu’s arm.

“Beomie, it’s okay, you don’t deserve a liar,” Y/N said, smiling.

Beomgyu only smiled, squeezing her hand on his arm.

“Will you meet me at the Astronomy Tower tonight, then?”

Y/N chuckled.

“Sure, if you sit down and eat right now.” Y/N smiled back.

Yeonjun snorted, resuming his argument with Soobin.

Beomgyu smiled and took a seat next to Y/N.

At the side, Hueningkai retracted his hand next to Y/N’s.

He’ll probably have to stay with Taehyun, Soobin and Yeonjun for the Yule Ball.

Y/N reached the top of the Astronomy Tower, smiling slightly at the sight of Beomgyu sitting on the ledge of the observation deck.

“Hey,”

“Hi,” Beomgyu replied, still looking up at the stars.

“Just you?” Y/N asked, making Beomgyu laughed as he glanced over at her.

“I promise—no Daeun this time,” Beomgyu said, patting the spot next to him. “Sit.”

“What if I fall?”

“I won’t let you,” Beomgyu smiled, hand steadying the girl as she plopped on the spot next to the boy.

There was a beat of silence before Beomgyu sighed.

“This is how it should have been,” He started, eyes drifting towards Y/N. “Isn’t it?”

Y/N only hummed, chuckling softly.

“Maybe, but things happen.”

Beomgyu smiled, raising an eyebrow.

“So you made me all those letters, huh?”

Y/N winced, shrugging.

“Yeah, blame Taehyun.”

“Oh, I will,” Beomgyu snorted. “He told me you didn’t like me,”

Y/N laughed, looking at Beomgyu. “Well, I told him to.”

Beomgyu only sighed, smiling as he combed a hand through her hair.

“I liked you, Y/N, I always have.” Beomgyu said. “If it was you, and not Daeun, that I met up here that night, it would have been you and me,”

“I was up here, that night,” Y/N shared, shaking her head. “I saw what happened—how she told you it was her and everything.”

“And the kiss?”

“Yeah,”

Beomgyu winced, making Y/N chuckle.

“It’s fine, you know. I had Kai—he followed me,” Y/N explained.

Beomgyu nodded, hand taking hers.

“You know, Y/N,” Beomgyu said. “If you asked me now, I’d say yes.”

Y/N smiled softly—the past few weeks rolling around in her brain.

The one person who cared about her enough to follow her every step of the way, who was there when she got hurt that night.

The one who was there to pick up the pieces and side with her throughout all this time.

The one who always hid in the shadows and backed off when Y/N decided that, no, she wanted to be with Beomgyu instead of him.

She stayed silent, only looking up at Beomgyu who grinned understandingly.

“Yeah, okay,” Beomgyu laughed, making Y/N smile in relief. “So, you don’t like me anymore?”

“Oh, I do,” Y/N laughed. “You’re my best friend, Beomie—I’ll always like you,”

“But?” “Not as much as I used to,” Y/N snorted.

Beomgyu raised an eyebrow as Y/N fiddled with her fingers.

“There’s someone else.”

“Oh?”

“I, uh, realized I always liked him—I just never knew.” Y/N explained, groaning at Beomgyu’s teasing smirk. “Shut up, Choi.”

“I didn’t say anything!”

“I know you’re thinking it!”

Beomgyu laughed shaking his head as he leaned back on his hands.

“In the back of my mid, I kind of always knew.” Beomgyu hummed, making Y/N sigh.

Beomgyu turned to his best friend, dusting his robes.

“Do you want me to walk you back to the Gryffindor tower?”

“I think I’ll stay for a bit.”

Beomgyu nodded, smiling and kissing her on the cheek.

“Good luck,” he said.

“Thank you,” Y/N muttered, eyes trained up as her heart felt a little lighter.

There she sat, under the shine of the stars—her heart admitting the words her heart always knew.

Hueningkai stammered as Beomgyu dragged him to the Gryffindor tower, straight from the entrance of the Hufflepuff dorms.

“Beomgyu, wh—“

Hueningkai fussed, successfully shaking the boy off of his arm by the entrance to the Gryffindor towers.

“Kau, where the hell were you?” Yeonjun whined.

Soobin only tilted his head inquisitively as Taehyun seemed unbothered.

“I was—I was planning to come to the Great Hall when the ball started—“

“You had a date,” Beomgyu hissed. “Dude, really?”

Kai furrowed his eyebrows.

“But—“ Kai stammered. “I thought you and her—“

“No, Kai,” Beomgyu sighed, an exasperated smile on his face.

“Oh,”

“Hueningie?”

Kai jumped in surprise, heads turning to Y/N as she exited the Gryffindor tower with a soft smile.

Hueningkai melted on the spot as he saw the blue dress Y/N had picked on their trip to Hogsmeade when he mentioned he liked blue.

He stammered on the spot as Y/N walked over.

Yeonjun and Soobin looked on in amusement, wiping fake tears off of their faces as they muttered about how “they grow up so fast,”

Taehyun and Beomgyu looked on proudly, chattering amongst themselves.

“You look beautiful tonight,” Hueningkai started as he offered out his arm, scrunching his face. “I meant you look beautiful every night, but especially tonight—I—“

“Thanks, Kai,” Y/N smiled, looping her arm through his. “You look beautiful too.”

He only smiled.

A swirl of colors mixed on the dance floor.

Laughter and excitement filled the Great Hall.

By the buffet table, Yeonjun and Soobin fought over the last piece of loaved bread.

Taehyun and Beomgyu idly conversed in a nearby table.

Kai and Y/N awkwardly held hands, slow-dancing upon the insistence of Beomgyu and Taehyun. (Yeonjun and Soobin actually couldn’t be bothered because they were more concerned with the food table.)

Kai coughed softly, blushing a bright red as Y/N smiled in amusement.

“Are you feeling weird?” Y/N asked making Hueningkai shake his head.

“No, I’m okay,”

“You feel awkward?” Y/N laughed as Kai shook his head. “Come on, let’s go out,”

Kai breathed heavily as Y/N pulled him away, her eyes locking with Beomgyu who shot her a thumbs up.

Hueningkai burned a bright red as they exited the Great Hall and made their way to the Black Lake.

“What, are you drowning me today?” Kai teased as he sat by the shoreline.

Y/N snorted, tilting her head.

“Yeah, probably,” Y/N grinned, about to take a seat if it wasn’t for Hueningkai gasping.

“Wait, no—“

Hueningkai pulled off his dress robes and set it on the ground.

Y/N shot him a tiny smile and sat, arms wrapping around her knees.

“So,” Hueningkai said, pursing his lips as Y/N glanced up at the bright moon.

“Remember how we used to look up at the night sky when we were kids?” Y/N asked, making Kai laugh.

“Yeah,” Kai snorted. “I remember we used to say we’d run away with Beomgyu, Taehyun, Soobin and Yeonjun on broomsticks and live off of Chocolate Frogs and Licorice Wands,”

“Simpler times,” Y/N smiled. “That was before I had a crush on Beomgyu.”

At the mention of the older Slytherin, Hueningkai practically deflated on the spot.

He looked back up at the night sky, eyes trailing over at the moon.

“I think I’m like the stars,” Hueningkai said.

“Hm?”

“I’m always there, always shining and waiting for someone to see me—but I always get ignored for the moon,” Hueningkai explained, a penchant look on his face as Y/N turned to him. “but even if I am, I’ll stay there—waiting for that one shot to be seen, even if it’s the time I fall,”

Y/N didn’t reply, leaning her head on her knees as Kai continued to rant.

“I-I—“ Kai said, looking back down at the girl. “I’m a star just waiting for you to see me,”

Y/N smiled softly as Kai continued.

“Y/N, I like you,” Kai breathed heavily, almost as if relieved he spoke the words. “I’ve been holding this back for years and now it’s out. I like you.”

Y/N straightened up, smiling widely.

“Really?”

“Really, and it feels so light to say it—wow. I mean I know you like Beomgyu, and by all the means go for him, but I just really want to admit it and—“

Courage is one of the qualities encompassed by a Gryffindor.

It took great courage for Y/N to lean forward to plant a quick kiss on Hueningkai’s lips.

Kai stopped his rambling, eyes wide as he looked over at Y/N.

His first kiss.

Y/N pulled away, smiling shyly as she looked back up.

“Yeah, yeah,” She scoffed lightheartedly. “I like you, too.”

Hueningkai blinked, hand creeping up to touch his lips.

“You-You kissed me?”

“Shut up,” Y/N snorted, burning bright red in embarrassment. “It was my first kiss too, you know,”

Hueningkai’s smile slowly appeared, widening rapidly as he relaxed in his seat.

Y/N shifted, leaning over to rest her head on his shoulders.

“The stars look beautiful tonight—“ Y/N said. “Brighter than the moon, even.”

Hueningkai only smiled, turning his head to the side as he laid another soft kiss on her lips underneath the blanket of the brightest stars.

[agentmika]

@alwaysanoriginal thank u sm for the tag Char!!! And it’s technically after midnight so Ik it’s not ur bday anymore but happy bday again <3 sorry I took like 2 weeks to get to this lmao

RULES: Answer 30 questions and tag 20 blogs you are contractually obligated to know better.

(^ clearly I do not follow the rules because oh my God I am not tagging 20 people but I copy and pasted the rules anyway)

^^keeping what Char said however I have no shame and absolutely will tag 20 people. Don’t feel like you have to do it tho! 

Name/Nickname: Cherish, I generally don’t go by nicknames but I have had friends call me Cheroosh, Cherie, and once upon a time this douchebag in middle school tried to be way too chummy and said “cherbear.” Unfortunately I actually think this is cute but he was annoying so if anyone wants to reclaim that for me be my guest <3

Gender: female, she/her

Star sign: Taurus (I don’t follow astrology stuff but I am happy w/ this in a vague sense)

Height: 5′8″ / 172.72 cm

Time: right now?? 12:18 AM baybeee

Birthday: April 26th! It is fast approaching and I shall be 21

Favorite bands: this will be hard and far from a comprehensive list. Muse. Saint Motel. FOB. AJR. Florence and the Machine. Green Day. The Hot Sardines. Queen. The Regrettes. Uhh, this feels like a unique thing to mention here so I also still like and listen to some songs by Chameleon Circuit, a band that made music inspired by Doctor Who. 

Favorite solo artists: seconding what I said before but here we go: MIKA, Lizzo, Mitski, Hozier, Janelle Monáe, Watsky, uh Daft Punk is technically a duo but they’re not a band and I gotta mention them

Song stuck in my head: I’ll give you two. At the time of being tagged it was "Runs in the Family” by Amanda Palmer because of this amv and currently it is “What the Hell,” by Avril Lavigne because of this one

Last movie: Space Sweepers with my friend Cindy :))) It’s space found family and has a really cool universal translator thing b/c sci-fi that has sooo many languages in the film including Nigerian Pidgin!!!

Last show: in full? Wandavision. in part? I watched the first episode of the new pacrim anime :/

When did I create this blog: 2014...yes I’ll admit it I was once superwholock. 

What I post: whatever I want catered to an audience of me 😌 currently that consists of predominantly SPN renaissance posting, some more recent occasional personal sharing, the old guard, writing and poetry I like, memes, etc 

Last thing googled: not counting the cm thing so “was this song used in a movie” (trying to find if there was a site for that sort of thing)

Other blogs: I have some saved URLs but honestly I don’t have the energy to maintain multiple blogs. it’s all on main baybee!

Do I get asks: rarely but sometimes! ty to those who sent me desticule asks yesterday  <3 Ily 

Why I chose my url: as I admitted before I joined in superwholock era (tho admittedly I began spn after starting my blog im pretty sure) and I couldn’t decide upon a URL that mashed together all the things I cared about so that-one-fandom-chick was born because it was an umbrella thing

Following: uhhhhh...1695....I’ve been meaning to go through and clear this out b/c some are def defunct and I followed a bunch of new ones in the aforementioned spn renaissance

Followers: 788. I’m a relatively small blog in my corner of the internet I think? Plus tbh  like 200 of these have been since Nov 5th lmao when I turned full spn blog

Average hours of sleep: according to my Fitbit, currently 7h 8min. would prefer 8+

Lucky number: big fan of the first few multiples of 7, in particular 7, 14, and 21. I like 64 quite a bit, and thanks to my sister, also 11

Instruments: :/// I wish. I have a keyboard and took like a month of lessons as a child and have tried and failed to teach myself at least 3x. It taunts me. I will try again one day. For now I can kinda play Charlie Brown theme one hand at a time, still memorized from early childhood. 

What am I wearing: My comfy pair of pants that look like a bowling alley floor, fuzzy socks, a periodic table pun t-shirt, and a purple Comfy aka this thing for the uninitiated

Dream trip: keeping the diff versions from Char: 1. also a road trip with friends across America (preferably with a playlist including Fragments of Time - Daft Punk) 2. One of my childhood history obsessions was Pompeii. I would like to see it. 3. Literally almost anywhere outside of the US. I have not left it except for a few trips to Canada since I’m right at the border. 

Favorite food: I have very simple tastes. I love my mom’s holiday baked mac & chz w/ bacon <3

Nationality: American

Favorite song: no ♥️ (also keeping this from Char lmao) One that I always love the vibe of tho is So it Goes by Hi-Lo Jack

Last book read: :(((( this makes me sad b/c I read a lot but I’m actually in a reading drought rn b/c I got stuck on a book and I’m a completionist. Technically still reading The Immortalists by Chloe Benjamin, but soon to begin a book club with Neuromancer by William Gibson 

Top three fictional universes I’d like to live in: Star Trek PLEASE. One where magic is real, maybe the Graceling universe? Gimme a special ability and heterochromia. Tbh I haven’t thought about this much but I want space and magic so whatever gives me that. Since I’m very into superheroes and the prior statement I will also say maybe Marvel. 

Favorite color: Yellow 💛

If you actually read this all, hi ily <3 say hi :) this was an excellent way to stay up much later than I should’ve! 

andddddd taglist at the end: @fan-art-ic, @hirschco, @davidfosterwallaceandgromit, @autisticandroids, @princesshamlet, @shitun0t, @crisp-breeze, @hotgirlcastiel, @omniscientoranges, @cor-aeterna, @actually-a-hobbit, @galaxybrian, @char-arts-occasionally, @sobsicles, @spriteofwinter, @ohsweetflips, @stevebeyonce, @casthyelle, @internetcrimes, @tinyneverthelessfierce

again: this is voluntaryyyyy <3

[rpf-bat]

Celebrate The End Of Things With Cheap Champagne

Pairing: Frank Iero x Reader

Genre: Angst 

Summary: @sirloin-steaks requested a Frank story based on the song “New Year’s Day” by Taylor Swift. 

It’s December 31st, 2006, and My Chemical Romance are ringing in the New Year, performing live in Times Square. Frank invites you to come out, and see the show. But, an after-party at the band’s hotel, takes a turn, that nobody saw coming.

Trigger warning for substance abuse. 

You stood on the deck of the ferry boat, watching the bright lights of New York City draw closer and closer. You used to take this ferry every day, from your hometown in New Jersey, to your job in Manhattan. But, that seemed like so long ago now. 

Once upon a time, your friend and former coworker, Gerard, would catch the morning ferry with you. But, after the September 11th attacks, he’d quit his job at your company, and started a band. His decision had puzzled you at first. But, the first time you saw My Chemical Romance perform live, you had understood. 

That was also the night that you met Frank. His guitar playing was electric, and you told him as much, after the band finished their set. It had been at some shitty dive bar - the only venues that would take them at the time. But, he’d told you that night, that he, and Gee, and the guys, were going to make it to the big time. You’d admired his ambition, and the two of you became fast friends. And he’d been right. 

Now, four years later, My Chemical Romance was one of the biggest bands in the country. Their album, The Black Parade, had just dropped two months ago, debuting at #2 on the Billboard charts. They had gotten popular enough, to receive a prestigious offer. Ryan Seacrest had asked them to play New Year’s Rockin’ Eve, tonight, in Times Square! 

Millions of Americans tuned in every New Year’s Eve, to see the concert broadcast, and watch the ball drop at midnight. It was crazy to you, that your dorky friends from back home in New Jersey, had gotten “big” enough to perform alongside glitzy pop stars, like Christina Aguilera.

You were so psyched for them. It would also be the first time you had seen them in a while. Frank was the only one of the guys who still technically lived in New Jersey. When he was home, and off the road, he would come over to your house all the time, to watch movies, or play video games, just like in the old days. But, the last time that had happened, had been months ago. He, and the rest of the band, had been traveling around nonstop, doing radio and TV interviews, to promote the new album. In February, they were supposed to embark on a world tour. 

“But after tonight’s show, we’ll have a little bit of time off, before the tour starts,” Frank had told you excitedly on the phone, yesterday afternoon, when he’d invited you to the gig. “I really hope we get to spend more time together, Y/N. I missed you.” 

You had missed him, too - more than words could describe. Your heart ached whenever you drove past his house, knowing that he wasn’t in it. You had things you wanted to say to him tonight - things you’d been waiting to tell him for a long time. 

Your heart hammered as you stepped off the ferry, and began walking towards Time Square. The streets were packed with people, all rushing towards the same place you were. You knew some New Yorkers had started camping out at three o’clock in the afternoon, to get the best seats. If Frank hadn’t sent you a VIP pass in the mail, you’d surely have ended up in the way back of the crowd, nowhere close to the stage. 

You showed your pass to the security personnel, who were looking through peoples’ bags at a checkpoint, near the entrance to the Square. They waved you through to a special designated area, in the front row, for friends and family of the performers. You were pretty sure the kid on your left was the fourth Jonas Brother. You felt remarkably out of place. 

But, then your phone beeped, alerting you that you had a text. A smile crossed your face, when you realized it was from Frank. 

We r about 2 head onstage, he said. I will see you after our set, I promise! There’s nobody I’d rather ring in 2007 with :)

You heard the crowd start screaming, and your head whipped around, as you watched the announcer stroll onto the stage. 

“Please welcome our next musical guest - My! Chemical! Romaaaaance!” 

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

Their performance was amazing. They were one of a dozen artists performing tonight, so they only got to do three songs, before they had to get offstage and make room for the next act (Gwen Stefani, apparently). But, they put their whole hearts into those three tracks. Frank was jumping around like a maniac with his guitar, despite the freezing cold. Ray even had a pair of “2007” sunglasses on. 

You screamed for them, like every other girl in the crowd. At this point, you thought with a frown, there’s probably ten thousand people, with a crush on the same man, that I’ve been pining for since 2002. 

...Then again, you considered, the ten thousand other girls, don’t have backstage passes. 

Your frown disappeared, when you walked backstage, and a pair of arms immediately circled you. 

“Y/N!” Frank grinned. “Thank you so much for coming out and seeing us tonight!”

“Wouldn’t have missed it for the world,” you grinned, hugging your friend back. “You were amazing.” 

“Thank you,” Frank said sincerely, releasing you from his grip. “Are you ready to get out of this cold?”

“Where are we going?” you asked. 

“Back to the hotel,” he explained. “Ray’s not feeling so good.” 

“Oh, no,” you frowned. “I’m sorry to hear that.” 

“Hi, Y/N!” Ray greeted, waving at you with one hand, while he pulled a tissue from his pocket, with the other. He blew his nose loudly. “....Sorry,” he muttered. “How are you?”

“It’s okay!” you assured him. “I’m fine...I’m sorry you’re not doing so well, though. You sound awful.” 

“It’s this East Coast weather,” he shrugged, throwing the tissue in a nearby wastebasket. “I hate doing outdoor shows, in the wintertime.” 

“You sounded great onstage,” you reassured him. “Nobody could even tell you were sick.” 

“The dorky sunglasses conceal how puffy his eyes are,” Frank confessed. “Poor guy didn’t sleep at all last night.” 

“Well, hopefully, I’ll sleep better tonight,” Ray chucked. “We’ve got two rooms at the Knickerbocker Hotel - one for me and Mikey, and one for Frank and Gerard.”

“Speaking of which,” you asked, “where is Gerard?” 

“Here I am!” chuckled a voice behind you, and you turned and saw your old friend Gerard, beaming at you. “Sorry, I was busy calling our cab. It’s so good to see you, Y/N! Thank you for coming.” 

“Thank you for inviting me!” you smiled back. “I’m really proud of you guys, getting to be part of such a major event.” 

“Oh, it’s surreal,” Gerard confessed. “I used to come up here with my mom and dad, and Mikey, every New Year’s Eve, to watch the show live.  I never thought I’d be in the show.” 

“We’re really lucky,” Mikey smiled, appearing beside Gerard, with a glass of champagne in his hand. 

“Ooh, where’d you get that?” Frank asked. 

“They’re giving them out to all the VIPs,” Mikey explained. “Would you like one, Y/N?” 

“I don’t think I qualify as a Very Important Person,” you confessed. 

“Nonsense,” Frank shook his head. “You’re very important to me.” 

“Yeah,” Mikey nodded. “You’ve been good friends with all of us for a long time. You can have whatever you want.” 

“No time for that,” Gerard shook his head. “Our cab’s here.” 

“C’mon,” Frank said, lacing his fingers with yours. “We have to go out through a secret exit, so that the fans don’t mob us.” 

“Oh, shit, really?” you chuckled. “I feel like a secret agent.” 

“Our lives have gotten so weird, honestly,” Gerard confessed. “I’m kinda glad that we’re gonna put some distance, between us and these crowds.” 

“Yeah, it’ll just be five of us, once we get to the hotel,” Mikey nodded. “Well...four. Ray is gonna go to sleep in our room, as soon we get there. But, the rest of us can party in Frankie and Gee’s room til midnight.” 

“Or later,” Frank grinned mischievously.

You smiled at your four oldest friends. “I can’t wait.” 

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

“Ok, question,” you asked uncertainly, staring at the yellow cab in front of you. “How are we gonna fit five people in there?”

“It’s gonna be a tight squeeze,” Frank chuckled. 

“Well, hey, we’ve managed to fit in smaller places before, right?” Gerard pointed out. 

“True,” Ray laughed. “Remember when we were traveling around New Jersey, in our shitty little van?”

“We were all practically right on top of each other,” Mikey recalled. 

When the band had first started, you had gone with them, on weekend trips, to play a gig, in the next town over. You’d squished between the boys, somehow, and helped them carry their equipment into the venue. Watching them rock the faces off the local kids, had been so much fun. 

But, as time went on, they started getting offers to play at clubs across state lines. Day trips turned into months-long tours. You couldn’t commit to that - unlike Gerard, you still had a day job. And so, you started seeing the guys less and less. Then they’d gotten a record deal - and everything had gotten even more complicated. 

“That was….a long time ago,” you frowned. 

“Yeah,” Frank said wistfully. “I wish we had the chance to do that again.” 

“Well, now, most of the time, we don’t have to squish,” Ray pointed out. “We have a nice, roomy tour bus, with bunks and everything.” 

“You’ve come a long way,” you smiled weakly. 

You were quiet as you piled into the car. As the taxi started driving down the street, you stared out at the night sky, and the city lights flying by. Suddenly, Frank gently touched your hand, making you turn, and face him. 

“Hey,” he said quietly, giving your hand a squeeze, “are you alright, Y/N?” 

“Yeah,” you shrugged. “I’m fine. Don’t worry.” 

“Tonight’s supposed to be a party, remember?” he teased. “So, try and smile for me, okay?” 

“I’ll try,” you promised. It was far easier to smile, with him around. 

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

You could tell as soon as you walked into the lobby, that this was a five star hotel. A crystal chandelier, cast a soft glow over the pristine decor. 

“We already got our room keys earlier,” Gerard explained. “So, we can go ahead up.” 

You nodded, and followed him and the guys to the elevator. 

“I think I’m gonna crash as soon as we get upstairs,” Ray confessed, sniffling into his tissue again. 

“I don’t blame you,” you said sympathetically. The elevator dinged, as you arrived at your floor. 

“Since I won’t see you guys until tomorrow,” Ray sighed, “Happy New Year, alright?”

“Happy New Year, Ray,” you waved, as you watched him unlock his hotel room door, and head inside. “Feel better soon!”

“Thanks, Y/N,” Ray wheezed, closing the door behind him. 

“Alright, let’s head into our room,” Frank grinned, opening the door to the adjoining room. “What do you want to do first?” 

“Let’s turn the TV on,” Mikey suggested, immediately looking for the remote. “I wanna see the other performances. They’re still broadcasting live right now.” 

“Oh, true,” you nodded. “We can still watch the ball drop tonight, on this flat screen!” 

“I wanna look at the room service menu,” Gerard grinned. “Y/N, you can have anything you want. Just let me know.” 

“Thanks, Gee,” you grinned. “Should we get champagne to toast with, at midnight?” 

“I’ll get it for you three,” Gerard shrugged. “For me? I guess I’ll order a club soda. If they put it in a fancy glass, I can still clink it with yours when the clock strikes twelve.” 

“Yeah, that works,” Frank agreed. “Looks almost the same.”

You frowned. That’s right, you remembered. Gerard is about two and a half years sober now. 

You remembered going to see them, at their Englishtown show, during Warped Tour ‘04. Gerard had been a mess. You hadn’t seen him in two or three months, and you were shocked how much he’d deteriorated. You’d felt helpless. If you’d had more time, maybe you could have talked some sense into him. But, the very next day, he had to get back on his bus, and head to another gig, in Pennsylvania. 

Frank had called you on the phone, maybe a week later, and told you Gerard had decided to get clean, on his own. You didn’t know how, or why. You didn’t know fifty percent, of what went on in your friends’ heads anymore. 

“.....Y/N?” Frank called, his voice stunning you out of your thoughts. 

“Sorry,” you blinked. “Did you say something?” 

“Yeah, I said I’m going out to the balcony, to have a smoke,” Frank replied. “I asked you if you wanted to come with me?”

“Oh….yeah, sure,” you nodded, and followed him out. “Got a light?” 

“Here,” Frank said, pulling a lighter out of his pocket, and handing it to you. 

You took a pack of Marlboros out of your purse, and lit one. “Thanks,” you said, handing it back. 

Frank lit his own cigarette, and took a drag. You glanced over at him as you inhaled the nicotine, watching how the cool night breeze tousled his hair. 

“I thought you said on the phone, that  you were trying to quit,” Frank raised an eyebrow. 

“I should,” you sighed, exhaling smoke. “I know it’s bad for me.”

“Sorry for being a bad influence,” Frank laughed. “I know I got no room to talk.”

“It’s not your fault,” you shrugged, taking another puff. “I guess I’m just stressed tonight.” 

“About what?” Frank asked, looking at you curiously. 

“It’s stupid,” you mumbled. 

“Tell me,” Frank insisted, taking his free hand in yours again. Your heart raced at his casual touch. 

“I just…,” you sighed, unsure how to begin. “I never see you guys anymore.” 

“I’m sorry,” Frank frowned. 

“No, don’t be,” you shook your head. “I’m being selfish. I should be happy for you, right? It’s a good thing, that the band has gotten so successful, that you have fans in practically every city in the world, that want to see you.” 

“Yeah, they get to see me,” Frank groaned. “But, I don’t get to see my friends, or family - any of the people I love most - for months at a time.” 

The people he loves most. Your face reddened. Did you really fit into that category? 

“After tonight,” you asked, “how long will you be in town?” 

“The first night of the tour is February 22nd,” Frank explained. “The gig’s in New Hampshire, so we’ll be flying out the night before.” 

“So we have….slightly less than two months, to spend time together,” you calculated. “And after that, the next time you’ll be in my neck of the woods is…?” 

“Bamboozle Festival,” Frank replied. “That’s in May.” 

“Wow,” you frowned. “Are you playing all three days of the festival, or…?”

“Nah, just one,” Frank said sheepishly. “We’ll be in Jersey for a night….the very next day, we’ll be playing a gig in fuckin’ Maine.”

“The fun never stops, I guess,” you deadpanned. 

“I mean, it is fun,” Frank admitted. “I love being a musician. Playing my guitar, onstage, is all I’ve wanted to do, my entire life.” 

“Yeah, it’s your dream,” you said quickly, “that’s why I should just shut up, and let you…”

“You don’t have to shut up,” Frank interrupted. “Y/N, I want you to tell me how you feel.” 

“How do I feel, Frank?” you repeated, your emotions starting to get the best of you. “I feel like I don’t even know my friends at all anymore! I don’t want you to turn into a stranger, whose laugh I could recognize anywhere. I’m still working the same dead end job I had the day I met you….but your life has completely changed. You’re gone 80% of the year, and yeah, I know you text or call me whenever you can, but when I’m not there face to face, I still miss so much of your life! You used to be just….a guy next door, that I could listen to records and smoke with. Now you’re some….millionaire rock star. That coat you’ve got on right now is probably worth more than my first car, and you’ve probably got girls in every town, throwing their panties at you…” 

“Yeah, but I wouldn’t look twice at any of those girls,” Frank said, looking you in the eye, “if a certain someone, told me, that she wanted me to be hers, and hers alone.”

A certain someone….? you gasped. Did he mean…?

“Hey!” a voice interrupted, and you jumped, as the sliding glass door slid open, and Gerard stepped onto the balcony. “There you guys are!” 

“H-hey,” you stammered, taken aback. 

“Everything alright?” Gerard asked, raising a quizzical eyebrow. 

“Yeah, yeah, everything’s cool,” Frank mumbled, not looking at you at all, as he stubbed his cigarette out in the ashtray. “What did you need?”

“We’ve got about five minutes til midnight,” Gerard smiled. “Figured you guys would want to come back inside, so we can count down the last seconds of 2006 together.” 

“Oh, right, of course,” you blinked. “Did room service already bring up the champagne flutes?”

“Yeah, they’re ready to go,” Gerard nodded. “....Wait. Where’s Mikey?” 

“We thought he was with you,” Frank said, looking confused. 

“No,” Gerard shook his head. “I went to the bathroom, and when I came back out, he was gone. If he’s not on the balcony with you guys, where did he go?” 

“I don’t know,” you shrugged. “Maybe he went to his and Ray’s room?” 

“Oh, yeah, that would make sense,” Gerard nodded. “Let’s go get him.” 

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

Gerard knocked loudly on the hotel room door. 

“Come on, Mikey!” he called. “We got three minutes til midnight, you’re gonna miss the ball drop, dude!” 

The door swung open, but instead of Mikey, a sleepy-looking Ray answered. 

“Mikey’s not in here,” Ray said with a yawn. “It’s just me.”

“Oh, sorry for waking you up, man,” Gerard apologized. 

“Wait,” Frank realized. “If he’s not in either hotel room, then, where is he?” 

“Maybe he went to go get ice?” Ray suggested. 

“Or maybe he went downstairs, to ask the front desk guy something,” you guessed. 

“Let’s split up,” Frank suggested. “You guys go down the hall and see if he’s by the ice machine. Y/N and I will look for him downstairs.” 

“Yeah, we can do that,” Gerard agreed. “Hopefully we’ll find him before the end of the year!” 

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

“This elevator’s taking too long to get up here,” Frank said impatiently, hitting the down-arrow button a second time. 

“Wanna just take the stairs?” you suggested. 

“Works for me,” Frank shrugged. 

You followed him into the stairwell, your heart still pounding from the conversation on the balcony. What would have happened, you wondered, if Gerard hadn’t walked in when he did? 

Frank kept his eyes on the flight of stairs in front of you, not saying a word, as you walked past the sign, indicating that you were now on the second floor. 

“Maybe he didn’t go this wa...oh, fuck,” Frank gasped, coming to a sudden stop.  

Your blood froze, when you saw what he was looking at. Mikey’s unconscious body, lay sprawled across the bottom steps. He was face down….he didn’t even look like he was breathing. 

“Mikey, oh my god!” You ran to his side, flipping him over, so that you could see his face. “Frank, we have to help him!” 

The bassist looked deathly pale, and his lips had turned a horrifying shade of blue. You felt for a pulse. It was there, but it was disturbingly weak.

“Come on, Mikey, wake up!” you pleaded, shaking his shoulders. “Oh my god, what’s wrong with him?!” 

“I think he’s overdosing,” Frank realized, kneeling by your side. 

“On what?!” you gasped. 

“On whatever he went downstairs, to pick up from his dealer,” Frank growled. “Goddamnit! We need to call 911.” 

“Mikey!” a familiar voice called, and Gerard and Ray burst into the stairwell. 

“Oh, god!” Gerard gasped, when he saw his brother, lying eerily still in your arms. 

“I’m trying to wake him up!” you explained. “It’s not working...fuck, what do I do?” 

“He needs a doctor,” Ray realized, whipping out his cell phone. “....Hello? Yes, we’re having an emergency…...the Knickerbocker Hotel….umm, Six Times Square….please hurry….my friend isn’t breathing…” 

You shook Mikey’s shoulders again. His eyes fluttered open, but his pupils were like pinpricks. He gasped and choked, like he couldn’t get air into his lungs. 

“Come on, Mikey, hang in there!” you begged. Oh god, what if he died?!

You could see the headlines now. World Tour Canceled After Bassist’s Hospitalization. You’d wanted more time with Frank….but not like this, damnit! 

Since when did your oldest friend’s kid brother do smack?! 

I really don’t know anything about them anymore, you realized, tears clouding your vision as you listened to him wheeze. Minutes felt like hours. 

“Out of the way!” called an unfamiliar voice, and you gaped as two paramedics dragged a stretcher down the stairs. 

“Ma’am, we need to move him,” a uniformed woman barked. “Time is of the essence.” 

You let the EMT scoop Mikey up, and load him onto the gurney. 

“What did he take?” the second paramedic asked. 

“I….I don’t know,” you stammered. “We just found him like this.” 

“Ma’am,” the man pressed, “we’re not here to judge anybody. But, any information you have, can help us figure out what antidote he needs…”

“Here,” Frank said. “I found this next to his body.” 

He handed the paramedic a needle. Oh, god. 

“I see,” the paramedic nodded grimly. “Judith! Get this man two milligrams of naloxone, stat!” 

“Is….is he gonna be okay?!” Gerard gasped, tears in his eyes. “That’s my baby brother….”

“We’re going to try our best to save him, sir,” the female paramedic (Judith) promised. “We need to move him to the hospital, as soon as possible.” 

“We’re only going to be able to fit two extra people in the ambulance,” the male paramedic warned. “Who’s going?” 

“Me,” Gerard said immediately. “He’s my family!” 

“Who else?” the paramedic demanded. “We don’t have time to waste.” 

Mikey gasped for air on the gurney, his face growing bluer by the minute. 

“I’ll go,” Ray decided. “Frank, you stay here with Y/N, okay?” 

“O-okay,” Frank stammered. You clung to him,shaking, as you watched the paramedics drag your friend out of the hallway, to the ambulance waiting outside. 

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

“.....Happy New Year!” the oblivious voice of Ryan Seacrest rang out from the television screen, as you walked back into the hotel room, wiping your eyes on your sleeve. 

Confetti was falling in Times Square, as the credits rolled. You’d missed the countdown. There had been no toast, no midnight kiss (although perhaps, the latter had been foolish to even hope for.) 

“This wasn’t how 2007 was supposed to start,” Frank sobbed, sinking down onto the bed. “Fuck!” 

“H-he’s gonna be okay,” you stammered. “The doctors are gonna save his life…”

“You don’t know that!” Frank cried, kicking a bottle of Dom Perignon off the coffee table. It shattered, sending broken glass and alcohol all over the floor. 

“Fuck, I’m sorry, Y/N,” Frank apologized, kneeling to pick up the shards. “I shouldn’t have done that…”

“Ssh, stop, you’re gonna cut yourself,” you warned, grabbing his hands. “We can clean that up later, okay? I understand that you’re only lashing out, because you’re scared…” 

“Of course I’m scared,” Frank wept, burying his head in your shoulder. “That’s one of my best friends.” 

“He’s my friend, too,” you said softly, stroking Frank’s hair. “I’m scared, too, but there’s nothing we can do now, but pray.” 

You sat down on the bed, and Frank sat with you, still sobbing into your shirt. You were choking back tears yourself. 

“I….I didn’t know he was doing that stuff,” you said guiltily. “I’m never around you guys anymore….I….”

“I didn’t realize the extent of the problem, either,” Frank confessed. “And I’m with the kid almost every day. I should’ve noticed, but I was too self absorbed, doing my own dumb shit…” 

“Ssh, it’s not your fault, Frankie,” you soothed. “We got him, to the people that can help him. That’s all we can do.” 

“It doesn’t feel like enough,” Frank sniffed, still clinging to you tightly. 

“No,” you agreed, your heart aching, “it doesn’t.” 

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

You woke the next morning, to the feeling of warmth against your side. Your eyes fluttered open, and you realized that Frank was sleeping next to you. What?!

Your cheeks reddened as you stared at his sleeping face, so close to your own. “...Frank? Why are you…?”

Reality filtered back into your head, slowly, as you recalled the events of the previous night. Oh god….Mikey! 

Was he okay? You still didn’t know. You and Frank had sat beside each other on the hotel room bed, crying, clinging to each other for comfort. You supposed you had fallen asleep like that. 

“.....Huh?” Frank groaned sleepily. “Y/N…?” 

He shot up, jerking away from you, almost as soon as he realized, that your bodies were touching. “I...I’m sorry!”

“N-no, it’s fine…” you stammered. 

“Fuck….I need to check my messages,” Frank realized, groping for his cell phone on the bedside table. He sat up,and put his feet on the floor. “Owww!”

“What’s wrong?” you gasped. 

“I just stepped on a shard of the bottle I broke last night...fuck!” Frank swore. 

“Oh no,” you winced. “Is it bleeding?” 

“No, it’s just cut a little,” Frank shook his head. 

“Do you want me to call the front desk,” you offered, “and see if they can bring up some Band-Aids?”

“No, it’s not that serious,” Frank insisted, opening his flip phone. His eyes widened, as he clicked through his inbox. “Oh….oh, thank god…” 

“What?” you demanded. 

“Ray texted me, around like two in the morning,” Frank explained. “He said Mikey’s gonna make it. The doctors were able to reverse the overdose in time, and he’s gonna make a full recovery.”

“Oh, thank goodness!” you cried, tearing up from sheer relief. You had been so scared, that Ray’s text, would say that Mikey hadn’t survived. He’s gonna be okay. He’s alive. 

Frank, however, didn’t share your grateful smile. 

“What’s wrong?” you asked. 

“I’m sorry that you had to see that, last night,” Frank frowned. “We ruined your New Year’s Eve.” 

“It’s not your fault,” you shook your head. “I’m glad I was there, to help you find him. I wouldn’t have wanted you to go through this alone.” 

“I hate to ask you for even more help,” Frank grimaced, “but, we need to clean this shit up.”

“You’re right,” you nodded, leaning down to help him pick up the glass shards. “It wouldn’t be fair, to leave it for the hotel staff to pick up.” 

“Some bands dig trashing hotel rooms,” Frank sighed, grabbing a towel from the bathroom, to mop up the puddle of champagne. “Not me, though. I feel bad, making a mess, that some housekeeper is gonna have to deal with.” 

He’s a kind person, you thought to yourself, as you carefully placed the pieces of bottle into a waste basket. Not everyone would take the time to do this, after the night we had. 

“Shit, look at this,” Frank sighed, pointing down at the hardwood floor. “Nobody blew out the stupid scented candle, that Housekeeping lit before we checked in, to make the place smell pretty. Now, there’s dried wax all over the floorboards.” 

“You had bigger things to worry about last night,” you reminded. “I’m sorry, I didn’t even notice the candle was still burning, with everything else going on. I would’ve reminded you to put it out.” 

“That’s not your job,” Frank said, pulling a guitar pick from his pocket. He tried to use it to scrape some of the wax up, but it didn’t seem to want to budge. “None of this is your job.” 

“What do you mean?” you blinked. 

“You said last night, that you don’t see us for months at a time,” Frank reasoned, scraping harder with his pick. “And then...last night, you finally see us again, and this happens.”  

“You couldn’t have predicted something like that,” you assured him. 

“We complicate your life, Y/N,” Frank frowned. “I complicate your life. You don’t need this fucking drama. The best thing I could for you, is probably just leave you alone. Stop inviting you to see us when we’re in town. I’ve grown apart from a lot of friends since I left New Jersey. Why can’t I just let this relationship go, too?” 

“I don’t want you to do that!” you protested. “Frank, our friendship is really important to me. I would be miserable if you suddenly stopped inviting me to hang out.” 

“I don’t just want to hang out with you,” Frank mumbled. “I want more than that.” 

“....Huh?” you cocked your head. 

“But it’s not fair, for me to ask you for that,” Frank signed. “Not when I know damn well, that I’m about to spend the majority of 2007, hundreds of miles away from you.” 

“Ask me for what?” you demanded. You suddenly remembered the words, he had spoken to you on the balcony, before your night had gone straight to hell. 

“I wouldn’t look twice, at any of those girls, if  a certain someone, told me, that she wanted me to be hers, and hers alone.”

“Nothing,” Frank murmured, picking fruitlessly at the wax on the floor again. “It’s stupid. Ignore me.”

“I won’t ignore it,” you insisted. “Frank, what were you going to ask me?” 

Frank looked at his shoes. 

You sat down on the floor next to him, putting a gentle hand on his shoulder. “....Frank?” 

“I was going to ask you...to be mine,” Frank confessed. 

You gasped, audibly. No way….he really felt the same way about you, that you did about him?!

“But, it’s not right, for me to ask you, to make that commitment to me!” Frank said miserably. “Not when I’m just gonna disappear on you again. And...you saw, last night, what my life has turned into. What my band has turned into. I’m a mess….why would you want to be with someone like me?” 

“Frankie, I love you,” you said plainly. Now that you knew he returned your feelings, there was no point in hiding it anymore. “I’ve loved you for years.” 

He raised his head to look at you. His hazel eyes, swimming with tears again, stared into yours. “You….you mean that?” 

“Yes,” you said emotionally. “I’ve been in love with you for so long….but, you’re a famous rock star now. I’m still just an art school dropout. You can do so much better than me.” 

“Funny,” Frank chuckled bitterly, “I was about to say the same thing, about you.”

“Frank, there isn’t anybody better than you,” you sighed, and grabbed him by the collar, pulling him into a searing kiss. 

His lips met yours, hesitant at first, but then suddenly you were toppling to the floor, as he pressed himself against you, with four years worth of buried desire. 

Life was so short. You realized that now. 

His hands tangled into your hair as he kissed you over and over. “Be mine,” he gasped, coming up for air. “Please be mine, Y/N….even if it fucks up everything…” 

“Frankie, it’s okay,” you assured him, as you gazed up at him tenderly. “I don’t care if you’re gone a hundred nights. You’re worth waiting for. Just promise me, that when you do finally come home, I can….have you.” 

“Oh, you can have me any way you want me,” Frank breathed, leaning down to kiss you passionately again. “I won’t touch anyone else while I’m away on tour….nobody else is as beautiful as you. You’re the only one that I want.”

“You’re the only one that I want, too, Frankie,” you promised him, claiming his mouth once again. “I want you every day. Not just when you’re the toast of the town. Not just when times are good. I want to be there with you, through the bad times, too. I want to help you when you’re scared, or even when something fucked up happens, like last night... because I love you. I’ll stay with you, no matter what….even when it’s hard, or it’s wrong, or you’re making mistakes. I don’t care. I just want to be with you.” 

“I want to be with you, too, Y/N,” Frank vowed, kissing your eyes, your nose, your mouth. It was like he couldn’t get enough. “You’re the woman I choose….because, hey, there might be lots of women who’d love to be my New Year’s Eve kiss. But, you’re the only woman I know, who would stick by my side, helping me clean up bottles on New Year’s Day.”

[star-spangled-steve]

His New Partner

Chapter 43: The Acceptance

Series Masterlist

Previous Chapter

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Words: 2141

Warnings: Fluff, vomiting, [redacted for spoilers].

A/N: If any of you haven’t picked up on it, the title for this chapter and for the four ahead of it are based on the five stages of grief. I figured that since there’s a five year time jump in Endgame, I could use one stage of grief for each year that passes, and show how Y/N and Steve are handling things as the time goes on. This chapter is a bit happier than any of the last ones, and I hope you enjoy!

Y/N stirred awake on the calm Sunday morning, her eyelashes fluttering open and her hand swiping the dishevelled hair from out of her face. And of course, as she had feared before going to bed, the first feeling that hit her was one she had been feeling almost every morning for the past couple of weeks: sick. It was funny how she had been asleep for a full eight hours, but somehow still felt tired; not to mention nauseous, sick to her stomach, and having the almost instant need to vomit.

The woman jumped up from her bed where her husband still laid, and ran to their connected bathroom as quickly as her nauseated body could take her. She closed the door, plopped in front of the toilet, and held her hair back as best as she could before just letting it all out.

A couple of tears sprang into her eyes, which usually happened whenever she vomited, as she very much hated it, and she took a couple deep breaths to calm herself down before flushing the toilet.

“Baby?”

Crap, Y/N thought to herself upon hearing her husband’s voice. He was up. She had meant to be more discreet when getting out of bed, as she had been for the past couple weeks, but had just thrown the blankets off of herself so quickly in the moment of panic. It must’ve have woken him and his stupid super soldier senses up. This was not how she wanted him to find out.

“Baby? N/N?” Steve continued to call out, knocking on the bathroom door this time too. “Are you okay? It sounded like you just threw up.”

Double crap. He heard.

Well, there was no hiding what that sound was now. She just had to run with it.

“Um... yeah.”

The man opened up the bathroom door to see his wife sitting on the floor in front of the toilet, holding her hair back with one hand while the other was still grasping the flusher. “Oh, doll.” He rushed over to where she was and took her hair from her, rubbing her back soothingly. “You done? Or do you think there’s still more?” He practically cooed, knowing how much she hated barfing.

“I’m done.” Y/N spoke quietly. Steve helped her stand up, even though he didn’t really need to, and stood behind her at the sink, tucking her hair behind her ears and placing a kiss on the back of her head.

“You feel sick?” He questioned before placing a large hand on her forehead, holding it there for a couple of seconds. “You don’t feel warm.”

“I’m fine.” Y/N answered him, not wanting him to fish for too many answers. “I’m just gonna’ brush my teeth, so...”

Steve, really not understanding that that was her cue for him to leave, continued to badger her. Though, this was nothing new for him. He had always been an overprotective worrier when it came to Y/N. “What did you eat yesterday? Was it the fettuccine Alfredo we had for dinner? Did that make you sick? But no, that wouldn’t make sense, we have that all the time. Maybe I should take you to the doctor-”

“No!” The woman almost yelled, totally suspiciously too. “No.” She spoke again more softly, giving him a gentle smile through the mirror to try and calm his nerves. This is hopefully where her trusty acting skills could come in handy. “I had some old chocolate I found in the cupboard last night. That must have been it.”

Steve squinted his eyes, almost as if he was detecting her lie, before just nodding and letting out a little hum. “Hmph. Well alright. Just next time, look for the expiration date before you eat it, okay?”

“Sir, yes, sir.” Y/N spoke with a little grin, giddy inside that he had believed her phoney lie.

The man shook his head at her quip, chuckling to himself a little. “Alright, missy, I’m going to make some breakfast. How do pancakes sound? I’ll mix the bananas in like you like?”

“Hmm...” His wife hummed, bouncing on her toes a little. “Pancakes yes... just no bananas.” She watched as his head tilted to the side in confusion. “I just don’t think I can handle anything too sweet right now, that’s all.”

“Ah, I gotcha’. Alright.” Steve nodded before beginning to head downstairs.

What he was completely oblivious to though, was the fact that the reason she didn’t want bananas in her pancakes was because the certain fruit was, in reality, a pregnancy aversion of hers.

Y/N smiled to herself in the mirror as she placed her hands on her still little stomach, thinking back to the moment when she and Steve had excitedly agreed to try for another baby.

It was the night of New Year’s Eve, technically New Year’s Day as it had been a few hours past midnight. The couple was snuggled up in each other’s embrace as they laid in their bed, both too caught up in their own thoughts to fall asleep.

Natasha and Rhodes, who Steve and Y/N had invited over to celebrate with, had left a little while ago, and now here the couple was. Alone again.

And something made Y/N realize that maybe she didn’t like them being alone anymore.

“Stevie?” She spoke into his shoulder, as she was cuddled into his side.

“Yeah?”

The woman leaned up on her elbow, wanting to look into his eyes as she said the monumental thing that she was about to say. “I think I’m ready.”

Steve’s eyebrows furrowed. “Ready for what?”

His wife gave him a tiny smile, softly biting her bottom lip. “To have another child.” She watched as his eyes bulged and head came shooting up, not believing what he was hearing.

“Are you serious?” He questioned with growing excitement.

Y/N nodded her head and beamed. “Uh huh.”

“Yes!” Steve cheered, pulling her down to press a hard kiss on her lips. “When did you decide?” He asked as they parted, the big smile never leaving his face.

“Right now, actually.” She chuckled. “I just realized, I don’t want to waste anymore time. It’s 2023, and I want a baby in this house. New year, new me.”

“I’m so glad.” The man spoke, stroking the side of his wife’s face lovingly. “So... that probably means more sex, right?”

“Good God, Steve.” Y/N groaned with a laugh. “That’s the first thing that popped into your head?”

“What? It’s a legitimate question.” Steve defended himself playfully.

“Yes, honey.” She shook her head at his silliness. “That means more sex.”

“Perfect.” The man smirked before flipping them over so that he was hovering overtop of her, giving her that almost predatory look that made her go crazy inside. “Then why not start right now, yeah?”

“Sweetie, breakfast is ready!”

Her husband shouting from downstairs broke Y/N out of her thoughts, and she took a deep breath, realizing that she’d just have to go down there and continue to lie to him.

Except... what if she didn’t?

The woman was tired of keeping it a secret, tired of wasting valuable time that they could be celebrating together. Yes, of course, her decision to wait was for no reason other than to give him an elaborate surprise, but Steve was never a fan of flashy presentations anyways.

That’s it, she decided. She’s going to tell him.

Y/N gave herself a little reassuring nod in the mirror before heading down the stairs, ready to give her husband one of the most exciting announcements of his entire long, long life.

When she got downstairs, she found him placing the breakfast on their plates, his back towards her. The man turned around upon hearing her footsteps and gave her a gentle smile.

“I didn’t know if you wanted two or three pancakes, so I just made you three. You have an empty stomach anyways right now, but if you can’t finish them, just pass ‘em over to me. You know I’ll eat anythi-”

“Stevie.”

He turned to fully face her upon hearing her serious tone, looking down at her curiously. “Yeah?”

“Um... there’s something I want to tell you.” Y/N spoke timidly, before pointing to the kitchen chair he usually sat in. “You should probably sit down.” She watched as he slowly lowered himself to his chair, looking worried as ever, before she walked over and straddled his lap.

“What’s going on?” Steve gulped, placing his hands comfortingly on her hips.

“Listen, uh...” The woman took a deep breath, trying to both calm herself and collect her thoughts. “This is not how I had originally planned on telling you. I actually, uh, had a couple different cute things planned, but I just decided that I didn’t want to wait anymore, so I’m telling you now. I don’t want to waste anymore time, especially not with how last time went.”

“Last time with what?” Her husband questioned, still very much confused. “What do you have to tell me, baby?”

And so, Y/N looked deeply into his eyes, deciding to just come out and say it. It was now or never. “I’m pregnant.”

Steve’s jaw immediately dropped. “What?”

“I’m pregnant, Stevie.” The woman stated again, beginning to grin. “We’re gonna’ have a baby.”

A huge smile instantly made its way onto her husband’s face, his whole entire demeanour lightening up. “W-We’re gonna’ have a baby?” He questioned, wanting to hear her confirm it one more time. She gave him a giggly nod and that was all he needed. “We’re gonna’ have a baby!” Steve cheered as he sprung out of his seat, picking Y/N up and twirling her around. “Oh my goodness, Y/N! We’re gonna’ have a baby!”

His wife continued to giggle as he gently put her down, smashing his lips onto hers. Y/N moaned into the kiss and as soon as the man separated, his hands instantly found her belly.

“When did you found out? How far along are you?” He asked, his eyes travelling up and down the entire length of her body. He was a bit disappointed with himself for not picking up the signs on his own, but then realized that she barely even looked pregnant yet anyways.

“I’m about 6 weeks along. I only found out a couple weeks ago.” Y/N explained, the same giddy smile never leaving either of their faces. “I was trying to figure out some elaborate way to tell you, but... I just couldn’t wait any longer. I hope that’s okay.”

“Sweetheart, how you told me was perfect.” Steve affirmed, all of the clues coming together in his mind as they spoke. “That’s why you were sick, huh?” She nodded. “And the bananas?”

“A pregnancy food aversion of mine. It happened last time too.” Y/N told him, watching as his smile proceeded to falter a little.

“Last time.” He spoke sadly, beginning to feel guilty again. “I swear, babydoll, I swear that this time is going to be different. Okay?”

“I know, honey.” She tried to reassure him. “I have no doubt in my mind; not anymore.” Just looking at him, Y/N could tell that it was still weighing him down. “Listen, Stevie. I’m always going to miss A.J., I’m always going to love A.J., and I’m always going to remember how hard that entire process was for me. But it’s been five years now, and I’ve accepted it. All that we can do now is move on and grow.”

Y/N watched as Steve as lowered himself to his knees, placing a gentle kiss on her clothed stomach.

“We have another chance now, hon. Let’s enjoy it.” She said with a small smile, running her fingers through his silky blond hair.

“And maybe another one after that too?” Steve questioned, looking up at her with a certain gleam of hope in his crystal blue eyes.

Y/N giggled. “Yes, maybe another one after that too. One day.”

Her husband lifted up her tank top so that it was exposing her entire belly, before pressing multiple loving kisses all over it. “Hey, little buddy.” He spoke against her skin. “I love you so much, okay? I just found out about you and I already love you so, so much. I’m gonna’ take such good care of you and your mama. Such good care.”

As Steve whispered sweet nothings to her baby belly, Y/N felt her heart swell, knowing that this time... this time things were going to be different. This child was so incredibly lucky, and they weren’t even born yet.

She felt her husband press another kiss to her stomach, followed by another, and another, and another, and... “Stevie!” Y/N giggled, her ticklishness kicking in.

“What?” The man looked up at her with a smirk, pressing another soft kiss to her belly. “I can do this all day.”

Next Chapter

Feedback is always welcome!❤️

[mariamermaid]

Full of Surprises

JJ Maybank x fem reader

Summary: As JJ´s 18th birthday is right around the corner, you take it upon yourself to give him a worthy present…

Words: 2.7k

Warnings: does not follow plot of the show, mentions of blood

A/N: I recently watch OBX and totally loved it! Should I open request for the show?

 Heart of Gold and full of surprises, at least that´s what JJ always said about you. You came into the group of Pogue´s lastly, but you bonded quickly. Your parents were divorced and after living with your mother for several years, you had decided to move to your father´s since your mother was planning on marrying again. You didn´t get along with her new boyfriend, well fiancé, and with his two younger children, you felt like not having a place in the family anymore. More fights erupted and after long arguments, your mother finally agreed. Your father was born and raised in the Outer Banks, knew every inch and every stone and when you finally set foot on the island, you fell in love with it as well. Your father was one of the few middle-class man on the island, enough money on hand to live, have a small house and offer some peace.

It was Kiara who then brought you into the group and when you offered some homemade lemonade with sandwiches and freshly baked cookies, they all made some room for you in their hearts. Close to Miami, where you grew up, you were a city girl, but you enjoyed the island so much more and so did the people there. Most pogues, who had been living there for their entire life, where almost relieved to find you as your father´s daughter. They welcomed you with open arms and gave you a new home.

“Excited for tomorrow?” JJ tore you away from your thoughts and sat down next to you, his feet dangling in the water as well. You chuckled. “It´s your birthday, are you excited?”

“Well, technically my birthday is on Saturday, tomorrow just starts the party”, he replied and you playfully hit his shoulder. John B was driving the boat to the Chateau, also known as his home. Kie and Pope sat in the back, talking about who knew what exactly. JJ´s laughter died down as he became more serious, a rare sight on him. He shrugged. “It´s just a birthday, nothin´ gonna change.” “Eighteen, JJ! It´s a number to celebrate, legal to leave home and shit!”

You always imagined him being ecstatic about this day, the day where he could leave his shitty home and his shittier dad behind. Apparently, you were wrong. Your brows furrowed as you watched his blue eyes travel across the horizon of the swamps. “Where would I go?” He asked mindlessly and it almost broke your heart seeing him that way. It was rare when he showed his weak and vulnerable sides, but you would always be there for him. John B noticed how his friend became around you, how he let his façade slip, at least for some time. He hadn´t talked to him about it, but he knew Kie had begun to notice as well.

“Where would I wanna go without you?”

You arrived at the Chateau, and you cursed John B for not taking a wrong turn, not that he would ever do so by accident. The topic broke off with JJ, but you knew it wasn´t over yet. At a later point you would ask again, and again and again, until he would tell you the truth.

Sometimes it drove the group insane how hardheaded you were, especially when it collided with JJ´s stubbornness, however, your points were usually better and smarter. JJ would also never admit that he sometimes picked small fights with you, just to see you heated in the topic.

There wasn´t a single thing you couldn´t do, at least that´s how it seemed. You were an ace in school, especially languages, biology and psychology. The worst part? You didn´t even study half as much as Pope did. JJ and John B often made bets, who would get the higher score. You had a diving license and once, you made an entire dress for Kiara from total scratch, while being high. It looked absolutely amazing. You picked locks in under 40 seconds and baked the best cookies on the island. Together with JJ you had taken apart the engine of a car, and build it back together. You could open beer bottles with your teeth or a lip gloss and once at a party, you won an arm-wrestle against Rafe Cameron. To add to all of that, you worked part time as a waitress and not once, you forgot an order. You gave Kie all of her piercings and you stitched up both John B and JJ several times with needle and threat. You knew all the words to slim shady and every single song from any Disney movie.

If there was something you couldn´t do, you were at least down to learn it and work hard for it. It was one of the reasons why everyone in the group loved you so much, you always had an idea for an boring day or a solution to the newest problem. It was John B, who called you on the Friday afternoon to discuss a new problem, a few hours before JJ´s party would begin.

“This better be important JB, the lightning in your bathroom is terrible to do my make up in!” You exclaimed when entering his house, your backpack with the essentials for the party hanging over your shoulder. He was sitting at the kitchen table, blood running down his arm. Your backpack fell to the ground as you started quickly inspecting the wound. A branch was sticking in it.

“Why is there a branch sticking in you?” You asked while hurrying through the house to find the first aid kit. “I fell.” You saw how he scratched the back of his neck, an awkward silence following. You kneeled down again next to him, getting ready to pull the branch out. “You fell?”

“Yeah.”

“Doing what exactly?”

“Climbing-“ While he talked, you pulled the branch out and pressed down a disinfecting towel. “Sneaking out”, he corrected himself as he noticed your eyes twitching. You could always tell a lie. “From where?” “I… uhm… I don´t-“, he hissed in pain as you made the first stitch.

“From a girl´s house.” Finally, he had your attention and you raised your eyebrow while continuing to stitch. “A girl´s house? Who?” You wore now a grin and noticed how your friend began smiling as well. “John B? Pogue´s don´t lie to each other! Whose the girl?”

“Promise me not to tell the others, at least not for now.”

“Pinky promise.” “Sarah.” You almost pocked the needle in the wrong place and let out a small scream. “Sarah Cameron?!” “Yes, psht now!” You had just finished your work and while taking a last look on the wound, you leaned back and eyed John B. “So, that´s why you been smiling so lost in the past weeks!” 

“You´re not angry?” “They´re many kooks I don´t like, but Sarah? She´s a sweetheart, she sometimes comes to study when I work.” He sighed relieved and pushed his hair back. “I wish the rest would react as chill as you.” You chuckled. “Good luck telling them.”

“I was hoping you´d help me.” “Your girlfriend, not mine, Johny Boy.”

You pulled out two beers from the fridge and began eyeing the outfits you had brought with you. It didn´t help that the party would start soon, you would just get ready there. “What´s up with JJ by the way?” You asked as you held the red top in front of the mirror. “I was actually hoping you knew.” 

“Me?”

“C´mon, Y/n, he tells you everything! From what he had for breakfast to stories from his childhood, I didn´t even know about!” You hit his shoulder while making your way around the table again. “Oh, I would wear the dress, JJ loves it on you!” You sighed and took the ultramarine dress, changing in the bathroom, door slightly opened. “Okay so what? JJ and I talk a lot, what about it? I still don´t know what´s wrong! Yesterday he didn´t seem excited for his birthday at all!”

Leaving the bathroom changed into the dark blue wrap around dress you started fumbling around with your hair. John B shrugged; he was still leaning on the table. “I guess it´s about his dad.”

You let out a heavy sigh. “But that problem is gonna go away, he´s 18, allowed to legally leave home!” “And where should he go? JJ is too proud to move in with me or you, he thinks he´s a burden…” 

“He is not a burden! Do you know how often I already asked him to move in?” John B chuckled. “When you wear this dress, he´ll be ready to move into your bed.” You threw the shirt you had worn before against his head. Luckily, he didn´t see how you blushed and quickly changed the topic back again. “Whatever he thinks, I have the moving problem solved! Just wait for his present.” You explained with a proud smile, John B furrowed his brows. “What exactly are you giving him, Y/n?” Kie and Pope had JJ´s present discussed, but you had decided against the custom surfboard and wanted to give him something else. “It´ll be a surprise.” “You can´t even tell us!” “That´s what it makes it a surprise.” He gave you the puppy eyes, but you had your make-up bag in your hand and closed the bathroom door behind you. “You´ll see, John B.”

“Always full of surprises.”

 When JJ arrived at the beach, everything was already ready. Kie and Pope had set up fairy lights and brought snacks. A few blankets were spread on the ground, since more pogues would be joining soon. Together with John B you heaved the keg of beer, which was the last thing missing. The second you set down the heavy keg, JJ approached. A huge smile spread on his lips. He wore a light shirt, opened at the front and a cap on his head, looking surfer boy good as always.

“Ready for your party?” Kie asked him as she gave him a hug. Pope looked at his watch. “Three hours left till midnight, till you´re 18!” JJ scratched his back, his eyes looking through the circle of friends. “All that matters that you´re all here with me”, he explained. Laughing you joined for a group hug. “It´s gonna be an amazing evening, promise!” John B exclaimed and you looked over JJ, a certain sadness still hiding behind his striking blue eyes. Within the next hour, more people came. Just before midnight, the group of teenagers outlined  about 30 or 40. You were just talking to some friends from school, when an arm slung around your shoulder. You didn´t even have to look up to find JJ, his cologne and the smell of liquor and smoke was unmistakable. He seemed a good amount of drunk and so did you. Soft music played in the background and JJ pulled you on the dancefloor. You giggled as your hands crossed behind his neck. “You know, I don´t need a present, right?” He finally spoke up and you grinned. “Man, you should´ve told us earlier!”

He let out a laugh. You knew JJ often felt uncomfortable when people made efforts just for him. “Trust me, you´ll love their present.” His brows furrowed at your comment and he slowed down the dancing. “Their?” You nodded slowly, avoiding his glance. “I can´t give you your present until tomorrow.” JJ still seemed confused and you both sat down on a thick branch from a fallen over palm tree. “What have you planned again, Y/n?” He asked smirking, but you shook your head. 

“A surprise.”

Suddenly John B approached, a little staggering from side to side, well a lot. “DUDE it´s twelve o´clock!” With that he pulled his best friend back on his feet and you followed the two, as John B led JJ to Pope and Kie, who held up the present proudly. From the form it was easy to tell that it was a surfboard, but the three had it customized by themselves. The had drawn the five people of your group as silhouettes surfing on the wave in front of the island. It looked amazing. “Happy Birthday!” They all grinned and Kie and you started singing, while JJ looked amazed at the board. “Guys! You didn´t have to!” “Yes, we did!” Kie immediately exclaimed. JJ eyes met yours and you shrugged. “Sorry you still have to wait.” John B sighed next to you. “She doesn´t even want to tell us, can you believe her, JJ?” JJ remained quiet, his eyes lingering on you. “Full of surprises.”

You woke up the next morning, snuggled next to JJ on John B´s couch. Your head still hurt a little, but after downing a glass of water and freshening up in the bathroom, you felt more awake. You barely remembered how you ended up on the couch, but it slowly came back to you. You had tried to bring JJ to sleep, but he was too clingy and made you stay. At that thought, you blushed. Glancing down on him, as you sat back on the couch. He still slept peacefully. Carefully you shook his shoulder and his eyes fluttered open, he started smiling.

“Mornin´.” “Hungover?” He shrugged and you offered him a glass of water as well. “I´ll wake up the other´s.” He groaned. “Why can´t we just stay here?” You threw a shirt, or whatever it was at him. “Your present!”

“LEFT TURN!” You screamed while John B hit the brakes, taking a sharp turn. “Jeez Y/n, next time you drive! Where are going anyway?” JJ, Kie and Pope were seated in the back, they all looked a little ill after you coordinated John B with absolute last-minute directions.  “STOP, we´re here!” You suddenly announced. It had only taken a 10-minute drive from the chateau, but now you were… In the middle of nowhere. You jumped out the van firstly, opening the back door for JJ and the rest. John B took a look around in the mean-time. “Where are we exactly?” Kie asked now as well. A few trees stood around, the water was near, but there was nothing really. You grinned from ear to ear. “You guys see where the water starts? And the post behind the van?” You asked excited and they all nodded confused. Especially JJ watched you slightly concerned. Then you pulled a few sheets of paper and presented them even more proud. JJ took them from you, and while he read them, you watched as his eyes widened. “You´re joking, right?!”

You shook your head. “Nope, this land is officially yours!” JJ let out a short laugh, and looked around again. “It belongs to me?!” “YES!” He couldn´t hold it in anymore and embraced you tightly, spinning you around in the air. “Y/n you´re crazy!”

Pope had taken the papers and nodded approving. Kie and John B laughed surprised. “Now you just need a roof to sleep under!” JB added. You grinned while JJ just didn´t let you go. He looked straight at you, his eyes not once tearing away. “Actually, there is this caravan at the junkyard, it´s in pretty good condition, could use some re-modeling. I think you could get it for a good deal?”

“You´re unbelievable”, JJ breathed again. You shrugged. “I thought you needed a good place to stay, what better than your own place?” He shook his head and just then, you realized how close he was to tearing up. “How can I ever thank you?” He asked whispering, his eyes still watery. “Just let me crash from time to time?” “You can move in with me, if you wanted to! I could live with you for the rest of my life!” JJ exclaimed before even realizing what he said, the group went quiet. You could watch from the corner of your eye, how Kie pulled Pope and John B away from the two of you. Rather awkwardly, you left the hug and JJ scratched the back of his neck.

“I didn´t mean… I didn´t… I... uhm…” JJ started rumbling. “Why not?” You blurted out and he looked up from the ground even more confused. He let out a chuckle. “I´ve known you for like forever and yet you surprise me.” You smirked and stepped a little closer to him.

“Would that surprise you?” You asked quietly and leaned on your tip toes to press your lips softly against his. JJ immediately leaned in and with both hands cupping your face, he held you closer and deepened the kiss. “This is by far the best birthday present.”

[purplesurveys]

1264

Who are you subscribed to on YouTube?  Oh man, I’m probably subscribed to over a hundred, if not 200. I’ve subscribed to channels relevant to interests I’ve had over the years, and since it’s not my habit to do spring cleaning on my feeds, the subscriptions have just keep piling up even if I no longer keep up with literally like 98% of them.

Do you like to go to the farmer's market?  I don’t think I’ve ever been in one yet. They aren’t very common here and the ones we do have are pricey and mostly inaccessible to the everyday consumer, I’m sure.

What will (or was) the color of your wedding dress be?  I wouldn’t want any other color than white.

What's your favorite melon?  I don’t like fruits.

What was the name of the last pet of yours that died?  Arlee. Technically my family mostly considered her as just Nina’s pet, but the sting was felt all the same when we learned she died.

When was the last time you wished the day would just get over with?  Yesterday, because it was Friday. Pretty self-explanatory, I wanted to get to the weekend so I can finally let go of work for a couple of days.

Name one person you've never had a fight with:  Andi. I think we’re both afraid of pissing the other off, which works out for us lol.

What are you currently listening to?  I can just hear the really loud whirring of my electric fan because it’s a grossly humid day today.

What would you rather have: cat or dog?  Dogs.

Who is your least favorite person in real life?  I have a lot of uncles I just don’t like.

Do you ever watch anybody's live stream of... anything, really?  Technically, yeah. I will sometimes tune in to livestreams of lofi music on YouTube, but I do it to listen, not to watch. 

Does your house have security cameras?  No.

If you go grey as you age, would you dye your hair or let it be?  I think I might dye it for a certain period of time, but I also think I would eventually reach the point where I’ll just accept it and slowly let go of the dye.

What was the last establishment you stopped going to due to bad service? What happened?  I haven’t run into much bad service, but I’ll never forget how long my order and bill took for Mad Mark’s. I never really vowed per se to never go back there again and I definitely didn’t confront the staff, but I haven’t eaten there since that incident.

What soundtrack do you listen to the most?  Not a big soundtrack listener.

Was there a family secret you weren’t told about until you were an adult?  Nah, they’re kept from us until now. The biggest one I’ve heard about was having a kleptomaniac in the family but we were never told who it is.

Do you have an opinion most people you meet seem to disagree with you?  Yeah, my dislike for fruits.

What’s something you like to have many options to choose from?  Clothes, I guess, like bucket hats. I don’t shop a lot and clothes aren’t a priority in my budget, so when I do pick out clothes, it has to be exactly what I want so that I don’t feel it was a waste of money.

What’s the strangest decorative object you own?  We have several quirky, disconnected decor in the living room from gifts we’ve acquired over the years. One object I can tell you about is the polar bear glass figurine we have on the coffee table.

What’s a thing you couldn’t imagine doing with your life right now?  Dating around.

What’s been your proudest moment?  Managing to stay alive this year and turn my life around for the better when I thought there was no hope.

What’s the filthiest non-pornographic movie you’ve seen?  Eyes Wide Shut, probably.

Do you know anyone who doesn't seem to be fond of animals?  I don’t think so. Like any animal...? I would find that quite odd, honestly. And I wouldn’t want to be friends with them if we weren’t already close .

Are you planning any outings or trips anytime soon? Whereabouts?  No, nothing set in stone. I do want to fly out to South Korea soon, though.

Do you know anyone who has a phobia of a certain animal?  I know a few people who are afraid of dogs.

Is there a particular brand of technology/electronics that you prefer?  Yeah, Apple.

Is there a singer whose voice gives you goosebumps/chills?  Hayley Williams and Jin, especially when he’s belting; and I don’t listen to her much, but I find that Billie Eilish has a unique voice that sounds really nice.

And is there a singer whose voice you simply can't stand?  Selena Gomez for some of her songs, Meghan Trainor for most of her songs.

Are there any authors that are particularly dominant on your bookshelf?  No.

Have you seen any photographs or videos that made you smile today?  Sure.

Which item in your fridge are you most looking forward to consuming? My aunt sent over this gigantic-ass slab of salmon that I can’t wait to eat as sashimi. I already had a few pieces last night and it was hea ven ly.

Has anyone you know got into a new relationship lately?  Hmm, I don’t think so. I know my coworker Dev got into a relationship a few weeks ago but it fizzled out as soon as it started because the guy was shitty.

If you menstruate, do you experience much PMS prior to it?  Only on the emotional side; I rarely get physical symptoms. I usually feel down or emotionally heavy a few days before my period.

Have you ever had a tattoo covered up or added to?  No, I don’t have any tattoos. Can you remember the last time you had a sudden change of mind?  Hmm, like last night. I wanted to stay up to maximize the weekend, buuuut I decided against it and slept instead since I had been up since 2 in the morning.

When was the last time you did something on a whim?  Two weeks ago when I impulsively dropped a thousand bucks to have cheese tarts delivered to Angela and Reena, hahaha.

Were you raised by both of your parents? If not, then who raised you?  My mom, grandma, and one of my aunts were the main people who raised me. Dad works overseas, so he was never at home much.

Have you ever began a relationship with someone you knew for less than a week?  No, I wouldn’t do that.

Has one of your friends ever tried to ‘hook you up?’  Mik tried to pair me with one of his friends just days before I finally implied on social media that I was no longer in a relationship. It was a cool ego boost but I declined, since my emotions were still super turbulent then. Andi tried to initiate sex with me once too, but I also declined.

What is your card game of choice?  I hate card games; I can never seem to understand them lmao, though that’s really more of a me problem than anything else.

What is your favourite books series?  Growing up, I really loved the Septimus Heap series. But the thing about it was that I got into it while the series was still ongoing; and with how bad my attention span is, I always forgot the events/plot whenever the newest book came out. 

So whenever that happened I had to read the entire series from Book 1; eventually the number of books I had to reread/revisit became too many (it was a seven-part series) and I simply just lost the time to read and I never got to know about the conclusion.

Do you prefer landmarks or street names when being given directions?  Street names – more precise. Landmarks to me can be pretty subjective – a green building might look blue to me, and I could just end up being lost.

Do you read the prologues in the beginnings of books?  Sure.

What was your favourite gym class moment?  If I genuinely like or already play the sport that was being taught. That’s why PE table tennis was a lot of fun for me.

Do you think that ocean boardwalks are fun?  I’ve never been on one but I imagine they are fun, yeah.

Do you dread when people ask you to sign their yearbooks?  That’s not a tradition here.

Do you have a favourite Scooby-Doo movie?  No. I was too young for Scooby-Doo in a sense that I do remember watching the movies as a 3/4 year old as they were kept on in the background at home, but I didn’t get any of the plots/didn’t really appreciate the films.

Do you think it’s cute when toddlers try to run away and fall down?  Sometimes, yeah. If the fall looked nasty I would obviously be concerned.

Do you enjoy listening to your grandparents tell stories of their past?  Honestly, only one of my grandparents would be the type to do this but he’s been dead for six years now. It’s a big shame he passed before I could bond with him the way I had always wanted to. My three other grandparents are either too closed off or too quiet to share stories from their youth.

Do you have a crush on someone? Nah, nothing more than a celebrity crush.

If so... what does his/her name begin with? 

What attracts you to them? 

Do they know that you like them? 

If they don't know, why didn't you tell them? 

Name two people that you miss:  Angela and Laurice.

Have you ever seen Titanic?  More times than I can count. I’m sure I memorize like 80% of the script, too.

Have you ever swam with dolphins?  No. I’m not so sure if I’ve seen dolphins, either. Maybe I have? Or maybe I’m confusing it with whales...idrk.

When was the last time you had a stomachache?  Wednesday.

What's going to bed early for you?  11 PM or midnight.

Do you want to have a big family in the future?  I used to, but I don’t think that’s the future I want anymore. One or two kids should be okay.

What was the last thing you did that gave you a rush?  Technically speaking, an orgasm, I guess?? Lmao idk

Favorite Nicholas Cage movie?  I don’t think I have one.

Have you had your Covid vaccine yet? Which one, if you have?  Yeah, I’m fully dosed. Sinovac.

If you've had your vaccine, did you experience any side effects?  I was suuuuuuper tired right after my first dose and I wanted to be knocked the fuck out, but I went right back to work after the shot because I am allergic to filing leaves hahaha. Second dose went smoothly.

What's the next item of clothing that you intend to buy for yourself?  A bucket hat or maybe one of the Fila x BTS shirts because the collection is actually quite cute!

What Facebook groups have you found the most helpful?  I join Facebook groups to be entertained, not because I actively look for advice.

Do you like your butt? Why or why not?  Yeah. It...has a good form hahahahahaha.

Have you ever personally been a victim of homophobia?  Yes, a few years ago I went to a food park with my ex-girlfriend. I was already not feeling my best that day to begin with, so having to see an old woman stare daggers at us for what felt like years really stung. I felt small under her look and almost cried, but in the end I felt angry that I momentarily felt shame about my relationship. I decided to just piss the woman off on purpose and do PDA right in front of her.

Do you think you’d be happier if you had a pet? I have two dogs at present and I know they make me extremely happy.

Who was the last person you went on a date with?  Gabie.

Were you ever hospitalized as a little kid?  No. The first and only time I was hospitalized (other than being birthed), I was about 12, I think.

What’s your favorite way to curl your hair?  I don’t do that. I rarely style my hair.

At what age did you start swearing?  I was 11.

What is something you physically can’t do?  Ride a bike.

What do like better, apples or oranges?  I don’t like any fruits; but in terms of flavored stuff, I like orange-flavored food, especially chewy candy, slightly more.

Around the holidays, do you hope for snow?  Well, no.

What are your top two favorite bands?  Paramore and Against Me!

How many people do you 100% trust?  There are a handful. I generally trust easily just because I like to believe all people are kind and loyal – but I can also take it away in the snap of a finger.

Do you care what others think about you?  Not so much.

Has anyone ever called you a bitch?  Sure.

Did you watch Teletubbies when you were younger?  Yeah but just super super faint memories. It wasn’t one of my main shows.

Do you have any licenses other than your driver's license?  I don’t.

Could you live the rest of your life without eating meat?  I doubt it. I could try, but I think I’d get cranky and start looking for meat way earlier than I would like to admit.

Have you ever had a rolling backpack?  Yup, if you mean a stroller. I think I’ve answered this on a previous survey.

Did you make any money today?  No, because it’s a weekend. What was the highest place you've ever jumped from?  Nothing dramatically high. I’ve had acrophobia-themed nightmares in the past, so even though I don’t actually have a fear of heights, the idea of jumping from a high place still makes me antsy.

Have you ever gone swimming in a river?  Not that I can recall.

What was the last souvenir someone got you?  I dunno if it counts but Andi bought merch from the AEW shop but made sure to also get a CM Punk sticker set for me :(

Do you have a favorite remix of a song?  Remixes have never been my thing. What do you think is the most saddest sounding instrument?  Piano.

Do you really pay attention to the ratings on movies?  Yeah they can definitely affect the level of appreciation I hold towards a film. For instance, if I genuinely enjoyed a movie only to find out it has average to bad reviews, it invites me to think more critically about the movie.

Do you have a favorite species of wild cat (tiger/lion/cougar/etc.)?  No.

If you had $500,000, what would you do with it?  Give half to my parents and let them do whatever they wish it. With the remaining P12,500,000, I’d probably get myself my own condo and have it fully furnished, then get braces, then get a new phone and laptop. I’ll have a bunch of money still left, I’m pretty sure – the rest of it I’ll save.

Did the last person you touched lips with have a kid?  No. I mean, I have honestly no clue what’s going on in her life now, but I know she doesn’t want kids so this is very unlikely.

"First loves are never really over." Is this true for you?  It’s true in a sense that she left me a lot of trauma and self-esteem issues that will irrevocably always be a part of me now even though I’ve worked hard to resolved most of them by myself.

Did you like Michael Jackson before he died?  Yes, because he has always been my favorite singer’s role model.

What are some things that would make you break up with someone?  I don’t know how to answer this question, honestly. All the red flags were thrown and tossed and slapped into my face and down my throat for six years yet I never left. I don’t actually know what my limits are, and I believe it’s because my coping mechanism has to just accept things and suck them up no matter how bad they get. That’s what I’m trying to change for myself now.

What was the worst breakup you've ever had?  I’ve had two breakups with the same person, and the second one was worse.

[stetervault]

Hello! Do you do rec lists? Would you be willing rec some Steter fics that aren't the most common/popular ones? If not, no worries!

Technically this isn’t a rec-finding blog lol but I do make rec lists sometimes if someone asks and I have the time and I feel like it. Here are some (I think?) less known Steter fics, oldies that people may have missed or forgotten (Idk how well I succeeded, I just picked a bunch that have significantly less reads/bookmarks than the really big fics):

Fear (Doesn't Mean I Can't Fight) by azerblazer

Peter is the damsel in distress, the Sheriff is the hostage, random unnamed hunters are the bad guys.

Stiles has a bat, a hoodie and a willingness to do anything to protect those he's loyal to.

Bring it on.

A Lean and Hungry Look by kototyph

The woods aren't the only place you find wolves.

You're Mine, Valentine by orphan_account

In which Peter decides to court Stiles, and does so by leaving him hearts.

Bloody ones.

Zodiac by Green

"You know, Taurus and Libra make a good match," Peter says with a sly smile.

Stiles looks away. "Yeah. I looked that up, too."

Surviving Peter and the Zombie Apocalypse by Nopennamesleft

Its the end of the world and Stiles has run out of luck. He saves a werewolf from certain death. Will they begin to rely on each other to survive or will the wolf just eat Stiles for a midnight snack?

He Is A Villain By The Devil's Law by neglectedtuesday

Stiles’ lungs are burning, blood is pumping through his veins and he’s pretty sure that if he stops running then he’ll just keel over into the gutter. But God does he feel alive. The sirens are wailing, loud and clear. Just one more block. One more block. Stiles ducks down an alleyway, the bag full of bank notes swinging behind him. It hits his side with a dull thud. The alley smells like cat pee and yesterdays trash so Stiles breathes shallowly through his mouth. He continues walking down it until he reaches the end. It opens out onto the street. He stops just shy of the exit, waiting. He waits a bit more. Then he kicks a can lying idle on the ground. He whips out his burner phone, punching in a number.

“Where the fuck are you?” Stiles growls, “Where’s my goddamn getaway car?”

“Change of plans Stilinski, you’re gonna have to get away on your own. Also ditch the phone.”

Fascinated by lemonstiles, migratoryslashfan

Stiles pontificates over Peter's naked body.

Night-blooming Flowers by imriebelow

Peter always gets what he wants. Stiles learns to live with it.

None of These Things (Are Happening) by Horribibble

After years away, Stiles returns to Beacon Hills just in time to put Isaac's insides back where they belong.

It's cute how people think he's trustworthy.

-

Peter can smell the violence inside him, the urge to do something grand and possibly cataclysmic. It’s there—mixed with a balance and natural calm, but in the undercurrent, it’s there. He has seen things beyond the scope of Beacon Hills’ petty horror show. He has learned things.

The Terrible Things We Do (For Love) by rospeaks

Being a demon, he’s seen some of the pretty nasty things that humans are willing to do for love. Things that, were he still alive (and human), would make him hesitate to be in a relationship with anyone lest his partner start getting some funny ideas. That said—

"This seems a little desperate for a kid your age," he says to Stiles.

Spin, Sweet Clotho by ChuckleVoodoos

Oh, it’s a beautiful thing to watch, the way they dance around each other, spun in sugar and glittering glass. Like a fragile little fairytale, a tender rosebud just waiting to unfurl. It makes Peter sick.

Because love is a fairytale, and his dear darling nephew does not deserve a happy ending.

whisper by tricksterity

Stiles was tired.

He was done of people pushing him and his pack around. They’d already lost so much and he was damned if he’d let them lose anyone else, especially to this psychopath who had no reasons for what he did other than he liked it.

And that’s when the whispers in his mind grew louder.

Remember Darling, All the While by Sang_argente

It was fire, ice, electricity. It was the first kiss, the last kiss, and every kiss inbetween. It was lips parting, tongues sliding, hearts beating.

Impress Me by ToAStranger

Their new English teacher has gone missing.

Falling Upward by moonstalker24

There is nothing quite like flying. There is a calm and a peace found in the sky that cannot be found on earth. All the chaos of the world is below you and there is no sound save that which the propeller makes as the engine turns it. You are free and unfettered and the clouds are close enough to touch; all you need do is stretch out your hand to grasp them.

Stiles takes Peter flying after he gets out of Eichen House.

Sweeter Than Gingerbread by taylorpotato (Stetallison)

The saying goes that lovers who commit suicide together start their next life as twins. Perhaps that's why Stiles and Ally feel the way they do about each other.

The Shadow Effect by Mysenia

What was the fun in being a twin if you couldn't trick a person or two?

Deep under by Sashaya

There's a reason Stiles knows so much about drowning. He'd rather not remember why...

All the World's a Stage (but the light design is subpar) by BonesOfBirdWings

Peter Hale is a successful Off-Broadway actor, and Stiles is a stage lighter who literally falls into his life.

Peter smiled at him. "Thank you, Stiles. But should I take this to mean that you don't want a meatball sandwich from Banh Mi Saigon?"

Stiles' mouth dropped open. "You - I - Yes, I want! Oh my god, you do the best apologies! Can you piss me off more, please? I accept all future apologies enthusiastically!"

Peter chuckled. "I'm sure that won't be a problem, dear boy. I've been informed that I'm an asshole by a very reliable source."

Stiles beamed. "But you have good taste in food, so things balance out?" he ventured.

Peter threw back his head and laughed. Stiles' grin brightened in answer.

The D.C. Backroom Deal by septima_sum

Stiles is a regular prostitute with moderate life goals – until his current client makes him an offer he can’t refuse.

Strange Duet by BelleAmante, thiliart (thilia)

The past three years have been a series of shocking, or not so shocking, successes for 2018 Tony award winner and two time Grammy nominee, Stiles Stilinski. You don’t typically find classically trained opera singers singing alternative folk rock to crowds at Coachella. Nor do you find indie singer/songwriters winning best actor awards at the Tony’s for their Broadway debuts. Stilinski has made it his lifetime habit to defy and exceed all expectations.

-or-

A Steter fic loosely based on Phantom of the Opera

Hold Me Down by sneksonaplane

Waking up in Peter Hale’s bed was weird. Waking up in Peter Hale’s body was even weirder. Stiles had been disoriented and confused when he’d found himself in a plush, king sized bed in an unfamiliar bedroom instead of in his own room (and seriously, why did Peter even need a king sized bed? Why would anyone need a bed that big?) It had all come back to him when he’d glimpsed the body he was inhabiting, one that was shorter but more defined than his own, and older, and kind of hot.

OR

The one where Stiles and Peter swap bodies, Peter relives his adolescence, Stiles suffers, and then suffers a little less when he discovers Peter's fetlife profile where he's listed as a submissive seeking a daddy.

It Was A Dark And Stormy Night by Guede

This is a ghost story. It’s not straightforward.

Put My Faith in Something Unknown by Twisted_Mind

He doesn’t know how long he sits there, suspended between thought and action, unable to feel. At some point, he becomes aware that there’s a hand on his face. A warm palm cradles his jaw, and a thumb brushes across his cheekbone tenderly.

The Rest of Our Lives by mia6363

“I don’t know, as a kid I watched a lot of movies, you know? And at first I figured like… I’d be on some great adventure that would take me away from it all, you know? Like Indiana Jones comes around and is all, ‘Hey Stiles, buddy, come with me we’ve got to go save the world.’ Then… you and… everything happened… then I just… I figured I’d die before I was eighteen.”

Enemy Action by pprfaith

Once is chance, twice is coincidence and three times is far too many bodies on the ground.

Buy Me a New Pair by Julibean19

"I don't practice law much these days."

"And why is that?" Stiles asked, wondering why a handsome and presumably successful lawyer wouldn't want to continue working.

"I've been drawn away by more pleasurable pursuits," Peter said, lips quirked upward as he spoke.

Tale as Old as Time by wynnebat

The one in which Lydia's got better things to do than be Belle, Stiles is a much more likeable Gaston, and Peter is a beast but not quite beastly.

The clothes make the man by FeelingsDusk

The trick to sneaking into a building where you shouldn’t be is to make it seem to all eyes like you should. Stiles has been doing this since he was a little older than toddler and he wanted to get back his Batman action figure from the evidence room in his dad’s Police Station.

(Spolier alert: just like back then, Stiles gets caught.)

Smile Like You Mean It by NinaRooxx

After sulking about the changing weather over the autumn, Stiles notices that despite the weather getting colder, Peter’s wardrobe isn’t changing at all.

Swing by ShippersList

Stiles wants to fly.

Angels, Devils, and Peter by Triangulum

Everyone has an angel on one shoulder and a devil on the other. They give advice, help guide their human through life. They tempt, they listen, they offer help. Everyone has one of each. Everyone except for Stiles.

OR

Stiles and Peter are murder husbands.

love and madness by sinequanon

Peter and Stiles haven’t seen each other in months when the alphas ask them to meet up to look over an abandoned house. Now, they’re going to be seeing a lot of each other for quite a while to come.

Not This Again by RebaK1tten

There's a rumor that the last episode of the show will have Peter getting killed, again. Perhaps to give him a redemption arc or something.

A Light at the (Near) End of the World by ladyoneill

The world he grew up in has ended in a supernatural war that devastated the human population. A survivor, Stiles lives a solitary, quiet life in Wales until there's a knock on his door.

Through Space and Time by MaroonDragon

When Stiles pulls the body of Peter Hale into his ship, he doesn't expect him to be alive. He also doesn't realise he might have gotten more than he bargained for.

His Color by SushiOwl

“Darling, have you been carrying a throw-away comment I made in your mind for almost four months?”

Stiles’s face felt like it was one with fire now.

After You by FlyAwayMeow (rjaejoo)

It’s true that sometimes what you want the most, you can’t have and that you’ll miss what you once had all along when it’s finally gone.

After breaking his engagement to Chris, Peter heads to New York to start over. He meets Stiles, a young author at his publishing house who helps him piece his confidence back together. When tragedy strikes, he discovers how to finally let go of his past and have the family and future he's always wanted with the pieces already in his life.

Looking After You by Slayer_of_Destiny

Can Peter be a chance for Stiles, can Stiles be a second chance for Peter? When Peter offers Stiles a relationship will the younger man take the chance with the werewolf?

Maybe We Both Are by lavenderlotion

The first time Stiles lets his fingers brush against Peter he wasn’t expecting the response he got. They were sitting on Stiles bed researching something. Or, they were researching. Now they were just talking. They did that a lot these days, just talked. They also ate together a lot. Or got coffee.

these words bear my scars (paint your love on my skin) by WindyRein

One day butterflies and childish codes change to I'm sorry you're meant for a murderer and he won't realize for years how much that changed his life.

Before you let go (and the light takes you in) by Issay

Stiles makes one last errand - goes to leave flowers on all the other graves. Fuck, so many graves. The grief is as endless and as inescapable as the sky.

He goes home and there is a thing wearing his father's face, waiting for him in the kitchen.

The Lady of Lightning by kiranightshade

"Those who foolishly sought power by riding the back of the tiger ended up inside"

Can You Use Lube For That? by AlreadyBoss

“You think your what is haunted now?” Surely he'd misheard. There was no way-

“My vibrator,” Stiles answered with alarming sincerity.

Well. He hadn't misheard after all.

Pianist Envy by Bunnywest

Stiles is the piano player.Peter can think of other things he'd like to see those hands do.Shame the guy's straight.

Everything You Deserve by Areiton

You think about it. More than you should, you think about it. About what would have happened, if you had bitten Stiles instead of Scott.

Home by Ragga

Don't be like him, they would say, and then add, or else you get burned.

Unable to bear the whispers any longer, This One left. He forsook those who forsook him, left him bear his scars alone, the scars he bore for his herd. It was better to be alone, stay off the currents, than swim with those most undeserving of his loyalty. So mote it be.

That is, until he met That One.

Lord Peter by Therapeutic_Steter

Peter rung out the rag before gently placing it on his mother’s head, reaching over to feel his father’s equally flushed features.

“Such a good boy,” his mother said, patting his arm with what little strength she had remaining. His father smiled softly at him even as his fell unconscious. Peter pushed back the lump in his throat, smiling shakily for his mother before venturing out into the living space.

knit me together by nezstorm

Peter asks Stiles to stay the night after a really awful day.

Warriors by CinnamonLily

Peter is ten years old when humans discover Azure, a planet not unlike Earth. From there on, he wants to learn everything about their new neighbors and the planet itself. It takes him over twenty years to get to Azure, but when he does, it's so worth it. His anthropologist heart is happy, and a new acquaintance in the form of an Azurian called Stiles might just make the rest of him happy, too.