#My windows are still iced over and it hasn't rained in three days

[1dragon-mustard1]

Trying to convince myself that shopping does need to happen actually when it's 10 degrees outside

#it's fucking cold #My windows are still iced over and it hasn't rained in three days #klaus #umbrella academy

[myersmikey]

When the Snow Melts (Michael Myers x Reader)

Original post date: February 12th, 2022

Summary: A short sequel that takes place after my other fic First Snowfall. (You don't have to read that though to read this.) The reader and Michael and say they love each other for the first time and it's emotional.

Warnings: None. Some sadness, but mostly fluff. You break Michael Myers. He just *Windows closing down sound.*

A/N: Thanks to @babygurl97 for the suggestion for this! It's a pretty short drabble. I meant for it to be only tooth rotting fluff. But it got Sad and Painful for a moment. I hurt my own feelings. I'm sorry lol. It doesn't end sad though, I promise! I wrote this too because I had an itching to write and my other projects are taking longer than I wanted. I also am running off of 3 hours of sleep, so I hope this is good. It may also not be proofread the best. And just like the prequel, this is for any version of Michael.

Word count: 868

It had been a few weeks since you and Michael had played around in the snow. There hasn't been any good snowfalls since that day, unfortunately. It's mostly just been sporadic snow that didn't stick much and even rain a couple times. The snow outside had started melting; your snowman was now a vague blob. But you were okay with just staying inside with Michael. Cuddling up to him under a blanket while you watched a movie was your favorite thing to do.

You glanced away from the pile of snow that used to be your snowman and back down at the dishes in the sink. There was a little more to clean than usual since you had just finished some baking not long ago. You smiled softly to yourself hoping Michael would like it. He did have a huge sweet tooth. You wiped your forehead on the back of your arm and started scrubbing the remnants of chocolate batter from your mixing bowl.

The backdoor opened and then closed. He was finally home. Rapid footsteps approached the kitchen and you knew he smelled the treat waiting for him. You glanced over your shoulder to see him staring at the chocolate cake sitting on the counter, freshly decorated with icing. He looked over at you and blinked a few times. You smiled at him.

"I made it for you." You reassured him.

Michael glanced back down at the cake and right back up at you before tilting his head to the side.

He signed "What's the occasion?"

"Does there need to be one?" You giggled a bit. You turned back around and started scrubbing at the dishes again. "It's because I love you."

Michael got quiet - even more quiet than he normally is. It took you a moment to process that you had said that last part out loud. The bowl fell from your hands down into the sink and you turned to look at him with wide eyes. His eyes matched your own. You were terrified you might of freaked him out. You had been together long enough to be comfortable with each other. Comfortable enough with some physical contact. But it hadn't been a large amount of time yet and neither of you had said those three words to each other. You dried your hands off on a towel and turned the rest of the way around to fully face him.

"I'm sorry..." you muttered. "I'm sorry if that was too soon and if I crossed a boundary I shouldn't have."

He's still as a statue, eyes wider than a deer in headlights. You look down at your feet and shift uncomfortably. Finally snapping out of it, Michael closes the several feet distance between the two of you. You're afraid to look up at him because you can't handle the thought of him being upset with you. You feel a finger poke the top of your head and then once more when you wouldn't look up right away.

When you finally look up at him, your eyes don't meet for long before he pulls you into a tight hug. To say you're surprised would be an understatement. But you wrap your arms around him and return the hug. You swear your mind is playing tricks on you when you hear a small sniffle. Your eyebrows scrunch in confusion and concern.

"Michael?" You ask, voice barely above a whisper.

It takes him another minute but he slowly pulls back, releasing you from the hug. He refuses to meet your gaze but you can still see his eyes behind the mask filled with tears. This was a first for you, you'd never seen him cry. It was a sight that gnawed at your heart.

He reached up his hands to sign something. He's trembling and hesitant it seems, but he continues. "No one has told me that since I was a child. Not since before..." he didn't finish that sentence but you knew what he was referring to.

Your heart shattered at that and now your vision was becoming clouded by tears. "Oh, Michael..." you whispered. You grabbed ahold of his hands in yours and held them. "I guess I'll just have to make sure you know how much you're loved everyday for the rest of our lives then, won't I?"

He finally turned and looked at you. He remained silent for a bit. He didn't say it to you, but on the inside Michael was wondering what he ever did to deserve someone as kind and loving as you. He knew he was extremely lucky to have you in his life and silently vowed to never let anyone or anything ever harm you.

"How about a piece of cake, yeah?" You asked him with a smile.

Releasing his hands, you made your way to the cabinet to retrieve a plate for him. You knew that if you didn't cut him a slice, he would just take the whole thing and eat it with a fork in one sitting.

Michael grabbed your wrist before you got too far and you turned to him again. Your heart swelled with happiness and love when he signed "I love you, too."

#halloween #michael myers x reader #og michael myers #peepaw michael myers #rz michael myers #michael myers #my writing

[dallonm-archive]

[image description: a cropped image of a pink sky. on the right hand side is a bunch of darker pink clouds. Just left of the centre is a full moon. In the centre, in a white serif font reads "writing update" /end id]

july writing update

Hi friends! This writing update is me pretending I did Camp Nano and didn't kinda give up a week in! I had a proper goal and everything, but a lot of things got in the way that I'm not gonna talk about here because I already ranted about it in another update I'm drafting rn. Lets just say it's Disability Pride Month and being not neurotypical or able bodied in writing communities and their inherent focus on productivity is Hard.

But I did get some writing done and wanted to do a little Camp wrap up post regardless. And I'm doing it now because I'm cancelling the last week of July for some rest/self care and I do not want to think about writing for that time and if I write a tumblr post about July Nano being over my brain will think it's actually over <3 I will probably do updates like these for most months tho! Depends on how much I write lol! This one is not too long (by my standards) and has some Revelations, Revelations, Life Cycle of Massive Stars, Nocturne for the Holy and a new wip idea 👁️

excerpts under the cut!

general taglist ; ask to be + or - ; i only have one! ; @childhoodlovers @svpphicwrites @abiandwriting @kowlazovdi @avi-why @ryns-ramblings @kitblogsthings @bijouxs @bookphobe @moonhungers @alicewestwater @bookpacking @shaelinwrites @onlyganymede @theelectricfactory @write-like-babs @oceancold @sidhewrites @wolf-oak @oasis-of-you @coffeeandcalligraphy @cecilsstorycorner @howdywrites @keira-is-writing @flip-phones @piyawrites @avakrahn @goose-books @finch-goes-write @ziyin @aphaimaniis @isherwoodj @laughtracksonata

I'm also editing this in to say I only just realised that July is my writeblr birthday month and that is very weird to me! A year and a couple days ago I impulsively turned an old blog into a place to document writing for me and ended up meeting people who now mean the world to me and my writing blossoming in a way I never thought it would. And the funny part is it doesn't feel like it's been a year, ever since I joined it's just felt like life has Always been this way and I cannot fathom that it hasn't. I'm sappy bc it's 4am lol but ultimately the friends I made (you know who you are) and the community I found is what retaught me the value of writing and helped me unlearn toxic ideas and whilst the last year was tough I wish I could tell July 2020 Dallon (who did not realise he was Dallon yet </3) what July 2021 would look like.

revelations, revelations ;

Oh the absolute state of affairs with this book rn. Nothing bad but I don't know when I'm gonna update y'all because sometimes I do not know where to start when talking about this wip lol! Currently on a break with it (but also my thesis work is on late 20th century queer lit/history rn so am ever really free of RR? <3) but had a lot of fun with it at the end of June/start of July. Anyway here's Dorothy finally revealing more of herself to me after a year. Dorothy as a character is like, I truly believe she is capable of killing a man but the story she is in just does not allow that so I am trying to grow her unhinged side a little bit in other ways bc I know she has it in her but I also really cannot deal with the plot repercussions of her actually killing a man! I'm sorry Dotty but this'll have to do!

(cw for groping/a man being creepy as hell, death/funeral mention, drug mention, drowning imagery kinda)

There’s too much to tell Felix. That his sister lives on the fringe of Castro and has attended three funerals since September; that it’s January 11th and she’s already attended one this year. That his sister drives through sunsets and imagines parties: the amber dusk, warm mosaic tiles, platters of Greek salad skewers and shrimp tostadas, and sometimes Jolie joins her and they share a blunt on the hill. That his sister bought an aquamarine body-length dress for six bucks in a thrift store sale bin, so when her and Jolie broke up for the second time, she waltzed into a sunset party, locked arms with a CEO’s son and gave him a fake number and plucked strawberries out of champagne and blended so well nobody noticed when she left. That during the summer of ’83, his sister walked a neighbour’s Golden Retriever on Wednesdays, and on the sixth Wednesday he gave her a wad of tens with one hand and palmed the back of her neck with the other, so she walked his dog to the beach and stole another hundred from his wallet. That his sister bombed an interview for a Nursing school and didn’t get home until night and missed their monthly call, and Jolie heard the phone ring and didn’t take a message, so his sister snuck into the CEO’s son’s villa and floated in the centre of their heated pool like a cloud. A pause, a breath, an Opheliean threat.

life cycle of massive stars ;

Switched to LCOMS this month because I was burnt out with RR and it made such the difference! I really love working on two novels at once because it keeps me consistently creative but also both of these books are so different so its always refreshing to bounce back into one from another. I have a whole update in the drafts rn for this so keeping this part brief but still love this book, still the best thing that has ever happened to me, me and this book will have a glorious summer wedding etc etc. These excerpts are from chapters that summarise the first semester of each character's first year and have to say it. has been Very Fun to get into the mindset of Freshers Melodrama. Here's Junie having a crisis and an unhealthy relationship with her hetero flatmate :( (alcohol cw for both excerpts)

In October you are drinking double espresso and trying to breathe normally in lectures and you are trying to figure out your favourite colour because Fleur asked and you stumbled out an answer (Purple, I think. Violet? Lavender? Indigo?) and it didn’t match hers (I like yellow. I like sunlight). You buy mugs from IKEA to paint you paint cats and fireworks and constellations and moon phases and daisies. You try to scratch paint stains off your desk. You do laundry at 2am. In October you colour code your notes with pastel highlighters. You go to the library at 3am. You paint your nails sunlight and hate it. You finish an essay that’s due in December. You knock on Fleur’s door at 8am so she makes her 9am. You wear off the shoulder tops and you let a girl dab glitter on your collarbones and you are watching Fleur kiss a boy from the neighbouring hall. You bite your sunlight nails. You break the handle off your IKEA constellation mug. You leave your keys in a lecture hall and stand at the reception for forty minutes waiting for them to realise that the keys on the desk have the moon chain you mentioned - or, you are waiting to say it yourself. You are watching the rain trail down your window. In October you get a halo headband tangled in your hair you are sipping a vampire themed cocktail that tastes like acetone you rip your heels off and you go home early and do laundry at 2am and you are waiting for the courage to tell Fleur you don’t like clubbing - or, you are waiting for her to ask where you are. In October you are many things / a good student a dancer a painter an angel a big sister an alarm clock you are nocturnal and a lucid dreamer and confused about your sexuality / and it’s still October but it’s not because it’s November now and you are still Junie but not because you don’t know who Junie is. It’s November, it’s September October November December. It’s 2016 2017 2018 2019. You are fragments and you don’t know if you are a kaleidoscope or shattered glass.

And here's first year Tomas being like I Moved Countries For University And All I Got Was Homesickness And A Crush On My Flatmate And Resurging Autistic Symptoms And This Lousy T Shirt (cw: vomit mention, injection mention, parental death mention)

Kristen is seven months younger and five inches taller than you. He’s the last flatmate you met and the only one you talk to beyond kitchen greetings and passive aggressive texts about dirty dishes. He is too quiet and too loud and not the type of person you befriend. The first night, he lost Ring of Fire and downed the concoction of Echo Falls, Dark Fruits, Jack Daniels and coke, vodka and lemonade alongside a cigarette and said he’d let God figure out the rest. He held your hair back when you threw up amaretto and held onto your knee when you first self-injected testosterone. He taught you Yorkshire dialect and you pretended to understand the Yorkshire dialect. He told you he got diagnosed at four and you told him you didn’t get past the first assessment but sometimes you flick the bathroom light on and it’s fire: the orange on the orange towel is louder, the white on the white tiles are louder, the colours and light and sink and showerhead are prickly and all you can do is blink and breathe until it fizzles out. You reminded him to take his meds and asked if you were weak for wanting to drop out and hop on the first Eurostar to Rotterdam. He reminded you to take off your binder and asked if he was robotic for not grieving his mother. You spent inky nights on the kitchen floor, counting the dead flies in the lights and scooping crumbly coconut ice cream out of a maker you got for half price in TK Maxx. You spent dusk-dusted afternoons at the global street food markets, at the vegan markets. Spent student loans on raspberry lemonade in recycled cups, veggie burgers in beetroot buns, got him hooked on poffertjes and advocaat and could’ve cried when the vendor spoke to you in Dutch. Sometimes you didn’t buy anything. Just liked hovering at stalls ambered with fairy lights, writing down Etsy stores on your notes app; just liked Kristen’s impulse to trek forty minutes into the city for a market he didn’t know existed until five minutes before; just liked how he always invited only you, cancelling your other plans last minute, the feeling of being ambushed; just liked how he stopped to take photos of dogs and the sunset; just liked how he looked haloed under lampposts waiting for Ubers, golden on golden.

This is also nearing creative nonfiction because Sheffield truly is a haven for just. vegan markets and cafes lol! I experimented with veganism there and never struggled to find something and at this point I call myself a fake vegan because it's too easy to be vegan in Sheffield and too difficult to be vegan in my actual hometown. And the global street food markets!!! SO GOOD! I miss pre pandemic days

nocturne for the holy ;

Giving her a little shout out because she does exist actually! I've figured out a really good system for working on two novels at a time, so my plan is maybe to start properly on this after I finish either RR or LCOMS. Idk I got 3 novels to pick from haha oops! I did do some free drafting back in April though and found it recently and I Like It! And I edited it so it counts as Something I Did This Month :) Also have decided that I loathe this working title <3 Okay see you with an update for this novel in like a year, sorry for the absolute zero context for this excerpt hehe

The morning I was due back, I hadn’t yet decided that this would be my last visit. I wandered between rooms like an overstayed guest, like I didn’t know which crockery lived in which cabinet and which bedroom had the best view of the overlapped hills. Dad would wake for his run in an hour, plastered to his twenty-year-old routine. Mum would pretend to be asleep until breakfast. Until then, it was myself and the house, hazed by sleepy sunrise. Downstairs. The peeling paisley wallpaper in the lounge, the lilies in the middle of the kitchen table, the vases of candy floss pink peonies wilting on every windowsill, the desolate double swing-set in the garden. The mist-clogged mornings. I stood outside in my dressing-gown until my fingertips felt numb. Upstairs. The sage coloured bathroom. The bathtub I’d laze in with my clothes on and no water because it was the quietest room in the house. The dusty dance trophies on the top of my wardrobe. Wine-flushed Jeanette in my teenage bedroom. The stale grey mum painted my teenage bedroom after I moved out. Minus their room, I stalked the layout of the house three times before settling back into bed - teenage Nora’s bed. Nora who cared for peonies and pushed her brother on the swing set and flung her ceramic ballerina at the wall and jogged with her father and collected wine bottles and acorns and kisses from girls who were supposed to visit for dance practice. Before I left, I’d have cycled each room another three times. And in every room he was there, hovered in the corner like black mould.

love this update bc it's like i've got my third person, my second person, my first person! collecting all the POVs like chaos emeralds :)

eulogy for our burnings ;

-looks away-

girl help I did it AGAIN!!!! Apparently Camp Nano is just the perfect time for me to get novel ideas. I made this post specifically to talk a bit about this because I have no idea when I'll draft it but it's certainly not soon. This is not me trying to doubt my own skill but I feel like I am not in the place I'd like to be as a writer to tackle this project with the zest it needs, however I am v excited by the prospect of it! Don't know how I feel about the working title bc I'm like "that doesn't sound right but I don't know enough about this wip to dispute it" but the only purpose my working titles serve is to sound pretty lol! But here's the tea:

1991, UK.

2nd person present + past. Very flexible form. I can't decipher how yet but I'm feeling interviews, newspaper articles, receipts, grocery store lists weaved with actual narrative, that kinda vibe.

Best summary is we follow our nameless narrator, a stealth trans man, as he becomes unhealthily obsessed with a man who "hires" him to photograph the buildings he burns

Very,,, isolated? Minimal settings, minimal characters, minimal prose etc. Almost claustrophobic

There's basically only two characters and they are probably the most morally deplorable, indefensible characters I've created which just means most of you are gonna LOVE this /lh I do too I do too

Only comp title I can give is it has the vibes/tone of Boy Parts by Eliza Clark (just with none of the nsfw content lol if you've read the book you know what I'm talking about) (also that book is great for morally deplorable women protagonists but omg look up the content warnings because it caught me off guard! enjoyed it tho gave it 4 stars)

The pinterest board is the best visualisation of the Vibes also follow me on pinterest lol

And that's all I've got today! A bigger Life Cycle of Massive Stars update coming in the next few weeks. Might do a proper intro post for Eulogy For Our Burnings but idk!!! It's a surprise :) Thank you for reading this far!

#also i have LOTS to catch up on so if u tagged me in anything im gonna do a big queue of rb's soon! #promise im not ignoring anybody! #just barely functioning <3 #atlastracking #writing update #revelations revelations #life cycle of massive stars #nocturne for the holy #eulogy for our burnings

[musicalmelody001]

So, like, back on that crutches thing nobody cared about...

It's been a while. It's the end of the 4th week, and those estimated 2-3 weeks to heal were a LIE. My foot still hurts pretty much on the same level as it did on the third day- a fuck ton better than the first, but still an issue walking. Granted, I only used the crutches for 6 days before I got tired of using my entire lunch break walking TO the bathroom. So, like. Still hurts. Except, oh yeah. Some fun stuff. Someone hit my car the second week, and I walked without my crutches to the nearest store (two city major intersections) in heavy-ass rain to get some ducttape to put back together the pieces of my bumper that I had JUST replaced out-of-pocket. I wasn't gonna buy a new fucking bumper less than a month after getting this one. Fuck that. Then, THIS WEEK. This week started off with a bang if that bang is a gun that shoots you in the face with bullets that explode into fireworks that spell "Fuck You".

Monday, I woke up super late and instead of arriving 30min early as I prefer, I showed up 6 minutes late. Which is TECHNICALLY a fireable offense. Later, my co-worker asked me to drive her to her friend's house after work. Her car was out of comission and would otherwise walk home - 13ish miles. So I drove her to the opposite edge of the city, the long way around because of course the gps is messing up. I finally get her to her friend's house, and turn on the gps to head home. It's about 40 minutes since we left work, but GPS says 22min to home with light traffic. Sounds good. Wanna eat some ice cream. Monday was expected to be -and WAS- the worst/bussiest/most aggrivating day of the quarter, possibly TWO quarters. All the fucking stars alligned for the day from hell for the whole department for eight solid hours.

Anywhoo, heading onto the only highway for miles -because we're inthe middle of nowhere and there's just green everywhere outside of that one main street a mile back that had a neighborhood and like three businesses, and about a mile or so down the road I notice a bunch of heat in the cabin. Coming from the air vents. And a slight smoke smell. While the ac/heater was completely off. I take the upcoming exit, and pull over in a church parkinglot that suddely shows up amongst the freaking endless trees. Turm off the car. Get outside. Pop the hood. A WALL of heat blasts me, and I feel it as I hover my hand over the engine. Okay, no big deal, I'll let it cool. But, I'm out of gas. Might have trouble getting home.

Remembering the oil leak from last month, I check the dipstick. Looks dry, might be out of oil too. I pull out my phone to google the nearest gas station. It just barely see the words "3.4 miles", then my phone fucking shuts off on me, and it's useless now. Close the hood, lock the car. I walk over to the church. Lights off, doors locked. Parking lot empty. I walk around the side and see a few cars. I walk to another door. Locked. Dark inside. But there's an intercom on the side. I assume the people there must be employees working on something durring the week, like at the church I used to go to as a kid. I push the button and offer a hesitant "Hello?" No response. Great. I turn around and take a few steps away from the door, try to get my phone to turn back on. Not responding. After a minute or two I hear a click behind me. A big, burly dark-skinned dude (for reference for my comparison, my family are all around 6ft and a nice medium tan, except me, 5'3" and whiter than printing paper) has the (completely clear glass) door open the tiniest little crack and just looks at me, "Can I help you?"

"My car broke down, is there a gas station near here?" I ask. He gestures down the road blocked by trees, "That way," and closes the door.

I stare out to the road for a bit. That was... So... Not what I was expecting. Or that helpful, really. So I head back to my car, grab the 1gal gas tank in my trunk, and inspect my windows after noticing the broken glass on the ground. Not from my car, but it still does not instill confidence. I pull out the pepper spray from my purse and have it casually resting in my hand, locked, the loop around my wrist. I take my flashlight from my glove box and put it in my purse, just in case. It's hot now, but I drape my cardigan across my sounder, and start heading down the road.

And down, and down. Down a steep hill, my ankle starts screaming as I loose sight of the church between the trees, and I keep going. I pass the higjeay, go underneath it and keep walking in the same direction. And keep walking. Pass a pair of 2ft wooden crosses sticking out of the grass on the side of the road, with fresh flowers, and a small child's toy next to one of them. I feel a sudden chill. I keep walking. Further, I cross a road and keep going, no cars, no buildings, but also no trees now. Just grass. I keep going. The hill gets steeper, I see what MIGHT be the corner of a gas station on the horison, on the second peak ahead. I l

Keep walking, and the hill reaches small flat section before sloping back up. More grass, but now more trees. I see the edge of a biking trail in the distance to my right. Assuming that means a freaking TOWN, I keep going. Up more. Some dilapidated houses that may or may not still be in residence. An empty box of diapers in the middle of the road, that I carefully approach, looking both ways down the empty road, and check for animals before moving it to the side and off the road, placing it by a cinderblock nearby so it doesn't blow back into the road and cause an accident, hopefully. I keep walking. I reach some train tracks and stand there for three minutes, completely confused as to WHAT THE FUCK these road markings are supposed to mean.

The sun is setting and I can see the maybe-gas station not too far away, so I take a picture and keep walking. My ankle REALLY hurts. I finally make it to the gas station, the sun is lower, and I go inside. I pre-pay for a gallon of gas, and an item on the recipt I did not get. I ask and am told it is a fee for using a card, I don't believe him but don't care anymore. I want to go home. I'm told a pump. The pump does not dispense gas. I try again. No response. The screen says "see cashieer inside to pay". I head inside. I say it doesn't work. Clerk says it does. I confirm the number, and go back outside. I try it again. No dice. I hit the button a bit harder, pull the lever. Nothing. I roll my eyes again. Go back inside. Am told that I am not doing it right, that I need to press the button first. Go back outside, try three more times. Go back inside. Ignored. Go back outside, paranoid now that cars are starting to arrive that maybe it will suddenly work, and someone else will get the gas. I try again. Nope. I see someone walk up from behind me in my peripheral, and I think they try to ask me for change, but I ended up screaming frustratedly at the same exact time so they leave awkwardly.

I try AGAIN. Nope. No gas. Not flowing. I go back inside. The clerk is glaring like he never wants to see me again. I say it doesn't work. He says I already got the gas. "Bull shit! It hasn't done a fucking thing!" He goes outside with me to the pump, yelling at me, hits the side of the pump, and it starts working. What the fuck. Who gives a fuck, I'm so done. I get my gallon of overpriced gas, and start to walk away as I realize I forgot the oil. I'm not going back inside. I see a small convience-like store a block or two down. Walk to it. Am asked multiple times for change and/or cash. Repeately advise that I do not have any.

I get inside, and honest the food they're selling is probably SO sketchy but I'm starved. I skipped breakfast AND lunch, so at the moment it smells so good. I just want to get home and eat. But I only have a few dollars in my account, except for the money for my car payment that I'm expecting to go through any day now. I find some oil, more than I wanted to spend, and head back to the car. It's mega dark now. No stars. Just dark. There's a few street lights here by the stores, so I continue. Reply a few more times that I do not have cash to give.

I make it to the sidewalk where majority of my journey resided, and continue down the street. I put on my cardigan. Now I'm going uphill, and my ankle is asking how I want to die, because it's screaming. I don't know how long it's been. But it's dark and it's SURELY not 6pm amymore. When I reach the intersection back in the place with no trees, a car I had seen doing past me earlier had turned around, and pulled over. No cross-traffic. Sitting at a stop sign in my path. Inside the extra-long sleves of my cardigan, I palm my pepper-spray, and leave my thumb resting lightly on the safety lock. I stop about six or seven feet away from the stop-sign, hesitating. The passenger window rolls down a bit, but I can't see who's inside. "You need a ride?"

I hope that the person is well-meaning, and decline, saying I'm almost to my car. He asks if I'm sure, and after two more refusals he drives off. I continue.

A bit further, another car comes. They're heading the same way, but on the empty road they slow down, rolling down a window to shot accross the three uninhabited lanes, and ask if I need a ride. I decline once again, wishing that I didn't have to walk anymore but also paranoid once the sun sets, and continue walking. A bit later they slow down again, suggesting I get inside. I say I'm fine. I walk further to see they'd driven foreward then turned around, this time having opened the side door. I avoid eye-contact and walk a bit faster. I don't see them again. I pass the crosses and feel a shiver down my spine as my eyes tear up. I hurriedly walk away and the feeling passes.

I reach the highway and my eyesight is blurring. I'm exhausted and my balance is off, repeatedly stopping to steady myself to keep from falling onto the grass or into the road. I reach the last peak, and the lights stop. I'm walking on the sidewalk on the left side of the road now, and grab my flashlight, illuminating the way in front of me mostly to be visible to oncoming traffic as I cross an unmarked intersection.

Finally. In the distance. The church. The parking lot. My car that I left unattended for hours, most likely. I approach, checking again for broken windows and find none. The wind is strong and almost knocking me over. I unlock the car and put my things inside, sans the pepper spray, flashlight, and gas. Closing the door, pop my gas flap and begin the slow process of figuring out how the fuck to put the gas in my car with five pieces of plastic that combine to make a nozzle, and no instructions. Eventually the can is empty, and I put it back in the trunk. Now the oil. Grab the oil from inside, loop the pepper spray around my wrist, and turn on the flashlight to pop the hood. There's STILL residual heat coming from the engine. I put the hood all the way up and open the screw-top thing for the oil. No funnel, just gotta pour carefully. Empty the whole quart, hope it's enough to get home safe. Sudden gust of wind, the hood falls on me. Pissed off, I open it back up and curse, putting the screw-top thing back in place. Close the empty bottle of oil and throw it in the cab. I'm so done. Get back in my car. Almost out of gas. Drive down to the shitty gas station and get more gas, after an unpleasant encounter with the clerk. Hope that three gallons is enough to get home because now I'm, like, a dollar short for that car payment. Vaugely hoping that it'll wait until midnight when I get paid. Get back on the highway, phone plugged in and gps open. A few miles down, the cab is hot again. Ac/heat still off. Obviously it wasn't just the oil. I crack the windows to get rid of the heat and smoke smell. Stop at an autozone, they're about to close. I get some engine coolant that my car says it's out of. REALLY short for that car payment now. Sit outside as the nice autozone worker looks at my car and shows me where to put the coolant, and instructs me to wait AT LEAST an hour and a half after turning off the car before adding it. Tells me that it might not be what is causing the heat and smoke smell, though, just help with the overheating engine. I sit on the curb looking at my car with the hood up as the nice autozone people (who know me -and my car year make & model- by sight when I walk in the store these days. Honestly, after the sixth trip in Febuary, I got a rewards card because why the fuck not) close up for the night around me. One on them comes up to me and asks if I'm waiting to add the coolant. I honestly reply that I'm just debating drinking the coolant instead. I feel bad when he looks a bit upset. He's always so nice. I get up, decide I might as well go home and add the coolant in the morning. Head home following the gps. Drive for fifteen minutes before I notice I'm passing the SAME AUTOZONE and heading the opposite direction this time. Am pissed and woreed about gas. Finally get home, leave my shit in the car, and head inside. Check my phone. It's fucking 11. I'm so fucking done. My ankle fucking hurts. My car's still fucked up and I'm still broke. I check my bank account and see the car payment hasn't gone through yet. Hopefully it'll wait until tomorrow when I get paid. Force myself to eat a few bites of food becore going to bed.

In the morning I wake up early. Check my account, and sometime between when I got home and when I got paid, my car payment bounced. $25 return fee. Fml. Almost get into a wreck. Car's still blowing hot air with a hint of smoke. I'm late for work somehow. Life sucks. I tell my coworker I don't want to drive her there again. She gets pissed. My ankle throbs. This is my week.

So, like. Hope this was entertaining? Idk. Half wanted to vent, half wanting to see if anyone else knows WHAT THE FUCK those street markings are supposed to mean. They're too uniform to not be deliberate!

#my posts