#I’ve been thinking about how I would write his journal entries and what made him go postal�� I’ve been thinking about an alternate game😭

[critterishere]

shout out to that au in my head where these two experience manmade horrors beyond their comprehension together 🗣

original image down here🏃

[chuusheartattck]

HAUNTED

Chapter 7: Wtf??

You didn’t want to open the journal by yourself. Even with Lumine there with you. What if it opens pandora’s box and you unlock a 1000 year curse? You don’t know what it contains. Sure Charlotte said she found Albedo’s mom’s old vintage journal, but that doesn’t mean this is the same one.

However, curiosity always kills the cat and you decided to be the cat for the day. You weren’t going to do it alone. That’s why all twelve of you are cramped inside the dorm room again!

“What if we sold this shit on depop for $150 because it’s vintage?” Heizou mentioned jokingly. He was sprawled out on your bed acting like he owned the place.

“Who would buy a used diary?” Xiao raised his eyebrow.

“You wouldn’t be surprised on the shit people sell there,” Began Hu Tao. “I once saw someone selling TXT cereal.”

“Okay but did you buy it?” Heizou asked.

“No? Who would?” Hu Tao replied in a judgmental tone.

“The same people who would buy Taylor Swift concert confetti.” Heizou retorted.

“Enough with this stupid conversation,” Scara interrupted. “Are we going to open this dumb book or not?” He looked over at you.

You had the book on the ground in front of you. In any other context this would be a dumb thing to be nervous about. However you did find it in a secret library room after your friend got kidnapped. You didn’t know what would happen.

You slowly picked up the book from the ground and started examining the outside. It was made out of a faux tan leather. At least no cow died for this book. The outside had nothing strange besides a butterfly charm in the front.

Slowly you started unraveling the string around it.

“Imagine we came all this way for it to be blank inside,” Aether chuckled.

Lumine quickly elbowed his side which earned her an ‘ow’ from him.

You opened the journal, the cover crinkling due to its old age. The front page had the words ‘Property of Rhinedottir’ in small black cursive.

It is his mom’s journal.

The page was an off white almost yellow color, most likely due to it not being opened for so long. It must’ve been at least 20 years since someone has found this book. You carefully turned the page, afraid the fragile paper was going to rip.

The page started off as an entry. You started reading out loud.

September 1st,

First day of being accepted into Teyvat University! Not only is it the most prestigious schools but there’s been some hush rumors about it. Why is it so well loved? How come only a few are accepted each year? I’ve decided to start logging in everything I learn. Maybe one day I can write a tell all book about my experience.

You finished reading the small passage and looked up at everyone. They were staring back at you, wanting you to read more.

You turned to the next page and read the second entry out loud.

September 8th,

It has been a week and strange things have been occurring. It’s fall but it shouldn’t be this cold in the hallways or in the dorms, right? I swear every time I’m in my room I have to bundle up because of how freezing it gets. You’d think this school would invest in some heaters. Not to mention the random gusts of winds in the hallways. Every time I bring it up to a professor, they simply brush it off and say it’s from a window. All the windows are closed in the hallways. The other day I heard someone call my name but there wasn’t anyone around! Maybe I’m going crazy…

September 9th,

It feels like I’m being watched. There’s eyes in the forest behind the school.

You were about to continue onto the next entry when Yanfei’s voice cut in before yours, “Okay this is getting creepy.” She’s known to give logical reasonings. This time was different.

“Yeah, I don’t believe in this sort of stuff but the eyes in the forest gave me chills,” Heizou commented.

Scara scoffed, “Looks like she needs to be admitted into a hospital.” You all stared at him giving him a look that almost said ‘really.’

“Or maybe there’s some truth to her words,” He muttered.

You didn’t feel like reading all the entries, mostly because you had class in twenty minutes. Instead, you skimmed through the pages. Most of them were entries but a lot of them had rituals and facts about the ghosts in the school.

Later on, Rhinedottir realized there was more to this school than what she initially believed. She jotted down everything she knew and had rituals that summoned different entities. There’s specific rooms in the school that is best for all this. Granted, none of them were evil demons but they were for wisdom, wealth, beauty, etc.

Just because beings that lay within the school aren’t inherently evil, doesn’t mean they’re good either. There are some that are mischievous and will purposely ruin your plans. Even almost make you get in trouble. There are others that will purposely scare you. Give you nightmares, but won’t cause you physical harm or downright possess you.

You flipped some pages to find drawings of some of the school ghosts. One of them was the little girl Charlotte told you about, Qiqi. If you play with her then she gives you helpful herbs.

“You think she can give me weed?” Aether’s voice cut you off.

“Dude a ghost plug sounds so cool!” Cyno high fived him.

Yanfei and Xiao facepalmed while Lumine sighed at their antics.

“You guys are insufferable,” Navia mumbled.

You continued skimming through the pages. Rhinedottir learned a lot about the history of the school.

Teyvat University was founded by the Chlothar Alberich. He comes from an old money family that has a lot of connections to various people. All of what was written was public knowledge until you continued reading. Apparently, there has been reports about shady business practices. When the school was first founded, there had been deaths that were covered up. In order for Teyvat University to be successful, they created a secret organization called the Abyss Order. They were the ones doing shady business practices.

Rhinedottir found this out by going through the secret rooms underneath the school and digging deep within them. She mentioned how dangerous it was and how closer she was to getting caught each time. It’s not like it mattered to her, what mattered was her getting to the truth. No matter how close she was, it wasn’t ever good enough. There was always something preventing her from trying to find out the full story.

One day, she was planning on going into the dean’s office. She never wrote again and seemed to vanish completely.

“Wait so that’s it?” Xiangling questioned, intrigued by everything.

“Well no, there’s definitely more details but for times sake we can look at that another day,” You said as you closed the book.

“Damn that’s a lot to take in,” Heizou laid back, staring at the ceiling.

“Did she mention what shady business practices there were?” Navia tilted her head.

You shook your head looking at her, “I don’t think she ever found out. I think that was one of her goals though.”

Heizou got up from your bed and started pacing around the room. He was too deep in his thoughts to say what he was doing. You all just let him do this thing.

“What kind of dumbass name is the Abyss Order?” Lumine spoke up.

Aether laughed, “It sounds like they’re trying too hard to be edgy. Or become a dollar tree Illuminati.”

“What should we do now?” Kazuha’s soft voice chimed in.

You pondered for a moment before replying, “Hmm I’m not sure. This could help us with our investigation but I’m not sure where to start.”

That’s when Heizou gasped and immediately went to the whiteboard you and Lumine shared. He erased what was previously on it and began brainstorming his thoughts.

“Holy fuck holy fuck I figured it out!” Heizou kept repeating.

“What the hell did you figure out?” Scara looked at Heizou like he was crazy.

Heizou didn’t respond but instead kept writing. To be honest it looked like a throw up of words. Nothing made sense and you weren’t going to attempt to figure it out.

After he was done, he turned around with a spark in his eyes. It looked like he solved the biggest unsolved mystery ever.

“While Y/n was reading the history, the name Alberich sounded familiar. I had no idea why. That’s when I realized that a descendant from the family goes here. His name is Kaeya. I met him during orientation because he was trying to recruit people for the frat he’s in. I think there was another guy there? Some ginger guy I forgot his name,” Heizou rambled on, “But anyways! Maybe that Kaeya guy knows something. I mean he’s here because his family quite literally founded the school. He’s the nepo baby final boss.”

After Heizou finished his coke rant, you all stared at him in disbelief. Not that what he said was untrue but because he has never been this excited about anything before. He’s truly in his element.

“Wait I think I know that little ginger bitch!” Lumine finally said. “I think his name is Tartaglia? But I think his friends call him Childe. He’s in my business class and he’s a bit obnoxious. He’s always talking about the frat he’s in.”

“You should try getting close with him. In order to get close with Kaeya,” Hu Tao suggested.

“I don’t want my sister to start being associated with a weird frat guy,” Aether huffed.

“Don’t worry I’ll be fine! Plus I can get us all invited to parties. Just because we’re doing all this doesn’t mean we can’t have a normal college experience,” Lumine smiled.

Except it wasn’t ever going to be a normal college experience. You’re all willing to risk everything just to save someone and possibly shut down the school. The stakes are high.

“I know this is off topic but did Albedo’s mom…you know…ever mention him?” Cyno asked.

“I think I saw something mentioning his name. Let me look again,” You said as you opened the notebook again.

September 13th,

My beautiful baby boy is born. His skin is pale like chalk and I know he’s going to have a bright future ahead of him. I think the name Albedo will suit him the most. He’s my pride and joy.

“So who wants to get close with her beautiful baby boy?” Kazuha looked around.

Everyone stayed silent. Nobody knew anything about him besides the gossip of him being a hot loner boy.

“I think Y/n should,” Xiao spoke up. “They’re good at making friends.”

Lumine looked at your direction to give you a subtle wink. You wanted to shut her up so bad.

“I mean I could try,” You hesitated. “But I don’t think it’ll be easy.”

You all agreed that your plan should start first with the offsprings. It should be simple and subtle enough to not gain attention of any administration.

You then looked at your phone and realized you and Scara were 15 minutes late to your class. You quickly grabbed your things, said your goodbyes, and dragged him out of the room. As you ran out, you swear you saw the same person from the night before in the library. You turned and she wasn’t there. You must be freaking yourself out from all this mess.

Masterlist II Previous II Next

A/N: New chapter!! I can’t wait to spill more lore and clues as the story progresses! I hope you guys like it so far 😭

Synopsis: Friends start their first year at Teyvat University. The school that is known for its paranormal activity. The group doesn’t truly believe the rumors until they start to experience how frightening the school can be. What happens when the friend group investigates the truth of the hauntings?

Taglist: @morgyyyyyyy @state-of-grac3 @trulyylee @jellichuu @practicoi @yuminako @eyshamuun @kunikuzushis-darling @heartsforni-ki @lalalaloveallmydays @animeobsessed56 @samyayaya @lloovvv @adepticiaoo @cherrysnows @miisamores @strayharmony943 @xionri @kazumiku @bethleeham @sukisprettyface @jayzioxx @kaikaidenkai @js-a-silly-little-guy @jiminscarmex @i-am-me-and-you @crimxeorcremeexistspeacefully @brideofbriar @floweringanna @miy-svz @vitanye @kunislettrs

[cannedpickledpeaches]

Insert Your Name (11)

Mafia!Jade Leech x Mafia!Reader

Link to series masterlist!

Notes and TW: Congratulations! You have successfully made it all about you (positive). This series will have mentions of blood, violence, crime (kidnapping, attempted assassination, extortion), and harassment, as one might expect from a mafia AU. Please enjoy!

Sorry that the tags haven't been working for the past couple of posts! I had to go in and edit the html for each individual one T-T please forgive me

Tags: @guava-enjoyer @itszzmoon @twstsandturns @myteacupisempty @rou-luxe @chikitasmol @night-shadowblood-writes2 @haveneulalie @owodi

A strange sense of satisfaction fills you as surprise fills the man’s face, but you don’t show it. You need to see this through. If you’re powerless in the face of his ability, you simply need to borrow his power. So what if he’s akin to a god? All you need to do is bring him to your side. Whoever that author is, whoever took over (Y/N)’s body—maybe they aren’t capable of using such an asset effectively. However, you’re confident you won’t let that advantage go to waste.

The man hums in thought. “I suppose it could be done without much fanfare. I would simply need to shift my attention to your experiences and abandon the current story. However, you would need to have your story recorded somewhere, in whatever form you may wish for it to take.”

You understand what he’s getting at. A story needs a medium, just like that manuscript. There are many options: on film, as a novel, as a collage of pictures. No strict rules exist for expression of self.

“I’ll keep a journal. Every day, I’ll write an entry, and I’ll also use it as a planner. This way, my ‘story’ will have the events that occurred in my life, how they affected my ‘character development,’ and also outline how I expect the story to ‘progress.’ Is that good enough?”

You still don’t think of yourself as a fictional character. You’re real, in every aspect, to yourself. But that doesn’t matter right now. Functionally, you’re a character to this man. You’ll use that assumption to put yourself in the most advantageous position.

“Yes, that would be a rather interesting way to tell your story. There are indeed many stories that were written in the form of diary entries, so this is not an issue at all. This would, in fact, make things easier for me. I would not have to go through the paperwork and expend energy to bring someone from another world since you already exist in Twisted Wonderland as an established character. There is just one thing you should know before you make this decision.”

“Tell me.” Of course there are strings attached. There always are. You prepare yourself. Self-sacrifice in small amounts is necessary, of course, but if there’s anything you can negotiate with . . . .

“I will have to take the previous author’s soul out of (Y/N)’s body. (Y/N)’s soul will regain control of her own body, since it was never removed, only dormant. Since the author’s original body cannot function without a soul, she cannot return to her world. It will disappear, never to be recovered, lost to the fabric of what forms this space. Are you still willing to proceed?”

“Is that it?” You expected something else. This has nothing to do with you giving up anything. In fact, it could even be considered a bonus. This woman whose story made your life and relationships exceedingly difficult will disappear down to the traces of her soul. It’s an easy decision. “Of course.”

“How cold-hearted you are.” He chuckles down at his teacup. It never seems to drain empty no matter how he sips it. “That is not an undesirable quality in protagonists, although they often do not have a happy ending in fairytales.”

“Is that supposed to deter me or something?” You stay resolute. “My future was always uncertain no matter if it’s a story or not. I’m in the mafia. I’ve come to terms that horrible things could happen at any moment because of the nature of my job a long, long time ago. It’s my responsibility to plan so that I reduce those chances as much as possible. And you’re going to help me.”

“Yes, I am.” He glances at the fireplace, which has burned down to glowing red embers. “Perhaps you should count yourself lucky that you are under my jurisdiction. I am partial to tragic endings, but I also do not mind if an amoral character triumphs in the end. Some of my peers would adamantly ensure it does not happen.”

You furrow your brows. This is not the first time he brought up something being under his “jurisdiction.” However, this is the first time he’s mentioned “peers” instead of “characters.”

“There are others like you?”

“Yes, of course. Twisted Wonderland is filled with too many stories for me to manage on my own. Since you are mainly involved with the Leech Mafia and stories of the Coral Sea, you fall under my jurisdiction.”

It makes sense. This man compared himself to a god, but he isn’t one. He isn’t omnipotent or omniscient.

“Who are they?”

He tilts his head. “You would not know us even if I told you.”

“I’m curious. Tell me anyway.”

“Such a curious character.” He glances at the embers again. “Alright, I see no harm in it. My peers overseeing Twisted Wonderland include Walt Disney, the Brothers Grimm, Hanna Diyab, Victor Hugo, and Lewis Carroll, among others.”

None of these names ring a bell. It is just a list of names, but having more information is never a bad thing.

“And your name? I should know how to address you.”

“Oh, I have not yet introduced myself to you? My apologies, I must be turning forgetful in my old age.” He laughs at himself in a good-natured manner. “My name is Hans Christian Anderson. It is a pleasure to meet you.”

You introduce yourself as well. He extends a hand to you. When your hands connect in a firm handshake, the new deal you’ve made feels solidified.

Anderson looks at the fireplace one more time. The light has died completely, the little room lit only by the moonlight pouring in the window. With a gentle but decisive clap of his hands, he stands from his armchair.

“That was a fruitful discussion, and I thank you for your patience and understanding. I fear time has run out, however, and so I will be sending you back shortly. I’ll place you right back where you came from: at the moment when I brought you here.”

“Hold on!” Too soon, too sudden. You still have so much to say. He holds up a hand, stopping your protests.

“If you’d like to communicate with me, simply write a request for it in your new journal. I wish you best of luck.”

And with that, the world goes white again.

This is the story of a girl whose name is no longer hers. A girl so common that she may as well be a faceless background character in another person’s story. A girl who wishes, more than anything, to be the protagonist of a love story that will sweep her off her feet and solve all her problems.

Her family is normal. Her friends, too. And so is she. It isn’t enough for her. The world inside that game she plays is so magical, so whimsical, so perfect. The characters are handsome, powerful, clever, funny, or rich, or some combination of those qualities. If she enters this world, surely all those wonderful characters would treat her as someone special. They’d love and revere her unconditionally. She pines for a man who would love her and her shortcomings in their entirety, no matter what she does.

The beauty about fictional characters is that because they are fictional, they can be whatever she wants them to be. She can wholeheartedly believe they’ll love her, and there is nothing wrong with that. But she isn’t satisfied with that alone. It needs to be real.

Desperately, she writes a story revolving around a faceless, flawless main character who she desperately wishes she could be. Everyday, the writing consumes her, dragging her into a fantasy of bliss. She begins to resent her reality. Nobody in real life will love her the correct way. Nobody can be as good as the characters she pours her love and headcanons on. She doesn’t consider how love can be gradual, nor does realize someone might have to get to know her before loving her. After all, in her fanfiction, the perfect mafioso loves her main character upon the first meeting and devotes himself with no questions asked. Isn’t that the ideal love?

One day, a miracle occurs. She meets a man who offers to make her story into her reality. Jumping on the chance to live her perfectly crafted life of happiness, she agrees. Finally. Finally, she will be loved the way she wants.

At first, everything went perfectly. Real life follows her fanfiction to the letter. Jade is charming, Floyd is endearing, and a string of coincidences leads her to meet Vil, another handsome bachelor. Love surrounds her at every turn. All she needs in this life are the handsome men who give her special treatment. After all, this body, this life—(Y/N)—was created by her, for her use. All of the previous relationships this body entertained no longer matter. They aren’t hers, anyway.

The polaroids that occupied her nightstand are probably in a landfill somewhere. The aesthetic was cute, befitting the tastes of a character she modelled after herself, but the person in them is irrelevant. Some side character she’s never going to see again. No matter; she’ll eventually replace those polaroids with cute photos of herself and her new love. (Y/N)—no, the placeholder—has served its purpose. It will not miss those useless decorations since it will never again have its own consciousness.

So where did it all go wrong? Perhaps it was wrong from the start. She should have cursed that old man for scamming her. Her happy ending was never a guarantee. How dare a throwaway side character upend her perfect, fairy tale ending? Is that even allowed? They’re all just characters anyway. How can they steal from a real person?

Until the very end, she couldn’t see anyone around her as anything other than characters in a story. Maybe if she did, she might have gotten the love she wanted. Now, she disappears, having never achieved the goal she so desperately grasped at. Like seafoam, her hopes and yearning for love bubbles and disappears.

Hans Christian Anderson places a book into an empty spot on one of his many shelves. He has always been fond of tragedies. As for this new story that’s unfolding . . . who’s to say how it will end? He’s a patient man. With a smile, he settles into an armchair and sips from a cup of tea. He’s looking forward to it. When it eventually ends, like all stories inevitably do, he’ll shelve it and find another story to bring to life.

The world suddenly flashes into focus. The sun’s dying embers flicker on the sea. Sand shifts between your toes. Fingers graze your neck. Before you can activate your Signature Spell, (Y/N) crashes into you and you both topple over into a bed of sand. Bloodlust raises the hairs on the back of your neck. But it isn’t coming from (Y/N). Instead, you instinctively wrap one arm around her and hold the other one out in front of you, shielding her from Jade.

“Wait, wait! Jade, it’s fine. I’m okay.”

He freezes. One of his hands stops a centimeter away from (Y/N)’s hair. She doesn’t react. Slowly, you lay back down, heaving a sigh. You shift her face to the side so that she doesn’t suffocate in your shoulder. Her eyelashes flutter against her cheekbones, complementing the slow rise and fall of her ribs.

“See? She’s asleep.”

Jade furrows his brows. “I fail to understand. Most importantly, are you sure you’re alright?”

“Yeah.” You chuckle, staring up at the stars that unveil themselves in the darkening sky. “I’m just a little tired.”

You explain everything to him. He seems skeptical, but eventually, he accepts it. He sits in the sand next to you, his hand covering yours. You pretend not to notice, but it offers a soothing calm to your exhausted mind.

“I’m sorry,” you say, glancing at his side profile. “Even if I write that Vil Schoenheit will cure your parents, it might not happen because of continuity issues. Maybe (Y/N) will still be able to convince him.”

“That’s alright.” He catches your gaze. “It would make the story progress more smoothly if we continue with our talks with Walrus.”

He accepted it so quickly. For that matter, so did you. You wonder briefly if there is something at play that makes you accept the reality of your situation as fact—if it’s because you’re a character after all—but that’s all speculation. Not worth your time and energy to figure out.

“Bottom line is, this is my story now. So I’ll make sure the curse on your parents is dispelled.”

“How reliable.” Jade gives you a gentle smile, one that causes an unfamiliar stirring in your chest. “Thank you. What would you like in recompense?”

You weren’t expecting him to offer anything at all. But since he offered, you aren’t one to refuse.

“Money.”

His quiet laughter blends in with the sound of rushing waves.

“No hesitation at all, I see. Of course, I will pay you adequately for your invaluable help.”

“I also want something else.” You fiddle with the strands of (Y/N)’s hair. “I’d like a vacation. Just a week or two after everything settles down so I can go back to my hometown with my mom.”

“Is that what the money is for?”

“Yeah.” Your heart feels a little lighter. “You should visit the Coral Sea after your parents wake up as well. I’m sure you’ll want to spend time with them.”

A pause. You scrutinize Jade’s expression in the low light, but his expression is wholly unfamiliar to you. He almost looks . . . nervous.

“Would you come with us?”

You blink. “Don’t you want to spend time with just your family?”

“Yes, but my parents would be delighted to have you over again. You have not been to our home under the sea in a long time, and I would be more than happy to show you around again.”

“It won’t be a bother?”

“Far from it.” His thumb rubs softly against the back of your hand. “I . . . We are very fond of you.”

You can’t help but think there’s an ulterior motive, but you accept. This wouldn’t be the first time you’ve travelled to their home under the sea, and this most likely won’t be the last.

Suddenly, (Y/N) shifts on your chest. A soft noise escapes her lips as though she’s finally awakened from a long nap. Her bleary eyes find yours. Kind, lovely, and gentle eyes. The eyes of the (Y/N) you know and love, the eyes of your friend.

“Huh? Are we on the beach? What happened?”

A relieved laugh bubbles out of your throat and you hug her tightly. Confused but sweet, she reciprocates with reassuring pats to your arm.

“Yeah, we’re on the beach. Let’s get you home.” You sit up and smile as she fusses over the sand in your hair. Normalcy is slowly but surely returning. “I’ll tell you everything on the way there.”

[stanofwar2]

Journal Entry 1, 2

Saw that my poll was tied between oc journal entries, and a mix of all three. So here's the start of Leon's Journal entries of his time in Gravity Falls. Hope y'all like it!

Transcript/clear text below

June 12th

I can’t believe I’m writing in this old thing after so long, but what the hell else am I gonna do after all the weird string of events that happened this afternoon.. I’m not even sure how to start all this, I feel like a 10 year old writing in her diary… Oh well, not like I’ve got anything better to do. This old beaten up journal my therapist gave me a while ago to “ Journal and process my feelings ”  is finally serving a purpose while I’m stuck here.

So how did I get here? Simple, I was making my way through the back-roads in Roadkill County Oregon so I could cut down my travel time so I can get to my client Mrs.Vandersheisse quicker (I’m going to need to call her as soon as my phone is done charging)

But as I was cruising, enjoying the scenery of huge redwood’s expanding as far as the eye could see, I looked back to the road and crashed my car after a Gnome rode a deer into the middle of the road and startled me! Which caused me to panic and swerve out of the way and straight into a tree! Luckily my airbag deployed, only leaving me with a couple of bruises at the end. Once my head stopped spinning I dragged myself out to assess the damage only to see that the front of my car was wrapping around the trunk of the tree that didn’t even budge, almost mocking me. I was grumbling to myself as I leaned against a tree, practically fuming with anger when I heard a set of footsteps approaching, a rough, gravely voice following quickly as the stranger approached. He asked me if I was alright, saying he heard the crash from his house.

I told him I was, opening my eyes slowly and I.. I was a bit.. Caught off guard when I opened my eyes to look at the guy. He was, well. Not what I would have expected to see out here. To be honest I was expecting a redneck with the smell of patriotism thickly wrapped around him but Instead I was greeted by a somewhat heavy-set, but muscular, older guy with short gray hair wearing a tight red t-shirt and white pants, a gold chain that peaked out of the collar of his shirt, taunting me.. Drawing me in..

His eyes peered at me behind square glasses that framed his face well. From his accent he’s probably originally from a big city, I’m guessing Jersey.

He. Was. Hot. And I found myself stumbling over my words a bit, worrying if I had hit my head harder than I thought or if I was passed out. He didn’t seem to notice.. I think If he did he didn’t say anything, just continued to ask me if I was okay, how and why I crashed, and where I was heading. I told him a little before I felt dizzy and nearly fell over. I caught myself but this guy gently wrapped his arms around me and told me that it was probably best if I get my head checked out, so he walked me all the way to his place, keeping me steady, and finally telling me his name. Stan Pines. I told him mine and he told me how nice it was to meet me. He smelled like the ocean

I was a bit.. Surprised to see that his house was actually a tourist trap called the Mystery Shack. Which I swear I saw a bumper sticker for, though it didn’t have an address so how I or anyone would find it is a mystery to me (wonder if that’s intentional?) I awed at it, earning a good chuckle from the guy who asked me if I’d ever been, to which I said no. He smiled wide, going into a proposition speech about how it’s one of the best tourist traps in the Pacific Northwest, that he would know since he made the place. I chuckled, finding his spiel somewhat endearing. But eventually he got me inside and called out for someone named Ford and Soos (Or was it Zeus?)

Soos, the now apparently current owner of the Mystery Shack came out asking, “What is it dudes?” Stan filled him in about my car and told him to go into town and get a tow truck. Soos saluted and ran out, giving me his quick condolences for my car. Then, there was Ford. I shook my head when I saw him come in, asking Stan why he called him. I thought I was seeing double! Making me worry that maybe I’d hit my head harder than I thought. Turns out that he’s Stan twin and a big shot with 12 Phd’s so Stan wanted him to give me a check up. Stan caught him up, to which Ford gave me a concerning and serious look and quickly got to work, grabbing some stuff to give me a full check up. It was awkward as he prodded and asked me questions like my name, my birthday, who the current president was, and eventually asking what had happened, giving me a good look at him as well and noticing that he has six fingers, which caught my attention, but I didn’t comment on it, didn’t want him to feel like I was judging him, making me quite the hypocrite. I told him 90% of the truth, keeping out the Gnome part of it. He hummed, his mind whirling away, asking me about my last name and swearing that he’d heard it before somewhere in his research. I wonder if he knows my family?

I just chuckled and then finally met the other family members of the household. Mabel and Dipper Pines, 13 year old twins spending the summer at their “Grunkles” place. They were very sweet and friendly, practically interviewing me about who, why, and how I was here, to which I gave them all I was comfortable telling, leaving the more.. Weird parts out. Stan let us know that it would be a little bit before Soos told him how bad the damage on the car is. I was nervous as I sat there, people-watching the Pines family, their antics and general weirdness growing on me, easing my nerves. At least until Stan got the call from Soos.

So, Good news, I only had a minor concussion and would be fine shortly. Bad news, my car is pretty much completely fucked and it’s estimated it will take a whole month to get it running. A MONTH!! I was.. Well I was devastated. I am devastated still, wondering what gods damned me to be stuck here in the middle of nowhere!! And in a house so damn noisy and filled to the brim with spirits!! Ghostly lumberjacks meandering about, trying to get mine and others attention. Luckily, they all are pretty weak so as long as I ignore/tune them out, I’ll be fine. But it’s.. Not just them there’s a generally strange aura surrounding this place. I felt it in the woods, which is completely normal but for it to be this strong and consistent here? That’s the odd part, then again in general this whole area has felt.. Off. Not bad, just, off, different.

Anyway, I groaned, wondering what the hell I’m going to do now! Where I was gonna stay for a whole month! I heard some small whispering before Stan sat down next to me, cleared his throat and put his warm hand on my back, telling me he was “sorry that life had given such a nasty hand.” But he said that it wasn’t all bad news, that he and his brother had been talking and while they couldn’t help with the whole car issue, they could clear out a room in the Shack, giving me a place to stay until I can leave. I couldn’t believe it, why were they being so nice to me? I was.. Skeptical and Stan found that entertaining, letting me know that it was because there weren’t any good Motels in town and they could use an extra pair of hands to help around the house and to watch the kids. So basically they were giving me a place to stay in exchange for a free babysitter. Which, as annoying as that is, isn’t the worst offer I’ve had. So I agreed.

Mabel was all the happier to have another person to talk to. She gave me the ~Grand Tour~of the shack, eventually leading me to what would be my room, which was clearly a storage room that she and her brother had cleared out and tried to make look homey. Which was very sweet.

Eventually Soos returned, giving me my travel bags. Stan dragged a mattress into my “room”, gave me some sheets that he swore he “cleaned recently”  before giving me another apology about my car. But it was different than before, it was.. Softer, genuine. But I didn’t pry, just thanked him, to which he gave me another confident, exaggerated smile and told me “Anytime buddy, welcome to Gravity Falls” (Guess that’s the town’s name) before walking off to do Gods knows what. 

I’ve set up my bed, cleansed my room with some sage, and placed some warding crystals in the corners of the room, hiding them so the kids or anyone don’t mess with and or steal them. So now, here I am, sitting in my new room recounting the odd string of events that have led me here in a busted up journal that I don’t even remember packing.

I should stop here for now, Mabel peeked in to let me know that dinner is ready so I guess I’m off. Until next time.

Leon

[frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe]

i'm outta my head over you Pt. 1

On AO3 here: i'm outta my head over you

prologue/pt. 1 to my @steddie-week 2023 entry! i'm doing a part/chap to the same fic for each day so pt. 2 will also be up at the same time as this!

there's also a playlist that i'm going to be updating daily with each day's songs :o) you can find it here

hope you enjoy!

Steve has been listening to the same tape over and over again for the last month.

Robin realizes it's the same one when they hang at Steve’s one day. They mean to watch a movie or something but end up in his room (Robin laying across his bed on her back reading a magazine and Steve hunched over his desk writing something in that little journal he’s been carrying around lately), when she starts listening a bit closer to the tape Steve has playing.

“Did you really take this out of your car with you?” It has to be the same one. Must’ve grabbed it on his way out of the car. She always gets out before him.

Steve his face turns pink. “..No.”

“What’s the deal with this tape?” she sits up and takes in his flustered face. “Oh my god!” She gasps, “Someone made this for you didn’t they? Who is it? Is it someone I know?”

He scoffs. “Oh yeah. You know them very well.”

“Oh. My. God. Did Nancy give it to you?”

“What? No! You think Nancy Wheeler would make me a mixtape ?”

“Well, I would say one of the kids but these are all cheesy love songs, so not them, and I’m guessing it wasn’t one of the girls you’ve managed to score a single date with either. If it was one of them they’d definitely be a stalker and you wouldn’t be listening to this so much.”

“Also the fact that I agreed it was someone you know very well.”

“Was it Jonathan? Or Eddie maybe? Or–” she was going to continue but stopped at how bright red his face becomes “Eddie??”

“No. …No, it wasn’t Eddie who made it for me.”

“Are you sure, cause your super red faces says otherwi–”

“I made it for Eddie.”

Robin has no words. Words do not exist right now. Her brain is flatlining at the implications this brings up about her platonic soulmate.

“Steve–”

“I made it for Eddie, but he’s never gonna know. Got it?” He pushes an accusatory finger into her face and very pointedly goes back to scrawling in his journal.

Robin lets him alone for a few moments before: “Eddie, huh?”

Steve sighs “Yeah. Eddie.”

“So is it just Eddie? Or is it all guys maybe?”

“Uhm..” He rubs the back of his head, still looking down at his journal. He for sure just got pen marks all over his scalp. “I think it's guys in general? Maybe? There've been other guys I’ve thought about before…at least a little bit in…that way. But it was Eddie that made me realize it for sure.”

He looks up at Robin from beneath his lashes, seeming to be worried about her reaction to that. 

“Oh Dingus,” She scoots to the edge of his mattress and folds him into her arms, a rare hug, even for the two of them. “Thanks for telling me.” Robin whispers into his hair, and Steve lets the tension from his shoulders go.

They embrace for a bit longer, and when she lets Steve go, “So tell me about this mixtape.”

“It’s actually only half a mixtape. I’ve only filled up one side.”

“Are you going to fill up the B side?”

Steve shrugs, eyes going back to the vague shape he’s drawing over again in his notebook. “If I find more songs.”

“More songs…?” Robin trails off for him to continue.

“....more songs that remind me of him.”

“Eww grody!” Robin smiles, shaking herself as if trying to shake off Steve’s affection. “Dingus, this is adorable, why these songs? If you fill it up, are you going to give it to hi–”

“No! Nonononono, he is never ever going to see this tape, okay?”

“Okay, okay, I got it.” she puts her hands up in surrender. 

He goes back to his book and she drops the topic. For about half a minute.

“So why these songs? Besides you being hopelessly in love with him.”

Steve sighs, but says nothing. 

“Oh shit, you didn’t even deny it. You are in love with him!”

Again, he says nothing. Just keeps looking down at his notebook. She can see his face is still red in embarrassment. After a breath, he sighs, and hands over the notebook.

There’s messy scrawl all over the pages it was open to and the two pages before. It looks like the pages started as a tracklist, but were soon covered in little doodles and notes for other things as well. ‘Dustin doctor FRIDAY at 3’ is hastily written in next to ‘Heartbeat - Wham!’. There’s a little bat (the animal) drawn next to ‘eddie said ozzy’ and the song title ‘Runnin’ with the Devil - Van Halen’.

“These are the songs.” Steve says, just barely over a whisper. “And why.”

“Why what?”

“Why they make me think of him.”

Robin reads a couple of the entries, and they are sickeningly sweet. Some have details so personal even she hadn’t known them.

“Steve, this is–”

“Weird? Creepy? Stalker-ish?” Steve says bitterly and starts to curl in on himself, emotionally as well as physically.

“Hey, no, none of that..” Robin closes and drops the notebook on the bed and reaches forward to pull Steve back out of his shell. She’s only somewhat successful, planting her hands on either side of his face and getting him to look up at her.

“I was going to say that this is really sweet. People make mixtapes for the people they like all the time right? So what’s creepy about you doing it?”

“One: It’s me, a guy , making one for another guy. And two: people don’t usually obsessively write about why they added the songs.” 

“Then that’s just a bonus.” Robin states matter-of-factly. “If you ever do give this to Eddie, he’ll actually know how you feel about him, and not just guess.”

“Yeah, well,” Steve sits up, removing his face from her grasp, “He’s not ever going to see it, so it doesn’t really matter.”

“You’re not going to give it to him? Ever?”

“Nope. Guy crushing on another guy that probably doesn’t feel the same way, remember?” He says, pointing at himself then glaring down at his notebook like it offended him personally. "Just drop it, okay Robin?"

So she does. For now.

-----

Robin is at her wits end.

Her whole existence is half Steve mooning over Eddie, and half Eddie mooning over Steve.

The pining from both sides is driving her absolutely insane.

“You’re driving me crazy, Eddie. Please just tell him how you feel, I can’t deal with this much longer.” she tells him one day at lunch, murmuring close to him over the roar of the students around them.

Lucky Eddie; he survived hell and was recently expected back at school to graduate.

“You can’t keep secrets, birdie?” he mumbles around a pretzel.

She almost scoffs, but stops herself at the last second. 

“Not from Steve I can’t! ! He’s my best friend, my one and only soulmate, the Dingus to your Doofus. I tell him everything and knowing you like him when he–when you could just tell him yourself is driving me batty!” Nice save she tells herself.

Eddie doesn’t notice the slip anyway, already shaking his head at her.

“Just drop it Robin, even if he finds out I’m gay and is cool about it, doesn’t mean that Steeeeeve Harrington would ever be into Eddie the freak.”

The after-lunch bell rings at the same time he stands, slumping off out of the cafeteria and into the hall without a spare glance backward.

“Okay that’s it. I’m done.” She stands, determined. 

“Done with what?” Dustin asks, also standing to throw his tray away.

“Men.”

-----

Robin’s able to enact her scheme not long after that.

Steve is leaving with his parents on a trip (for once) and will be gone for a few days.

“Ew your mom is bringing you along now too to try and keep your dad from having an affair? What’s she gonna do, leave you in the room the whole time?”

“Ha ha ha.” he rolls his eyes, sarcasm dripping from every ‘Ha’. “I’m meeting with them and my grandparents about my trust fund and going over their will with them both.”

“Ugh, I always forget you’re a snobby trust fund baby.”

“Thanks, Rob. Makes me feel fantastic when you put it like that.”

“You know what I mean.”

“I do?”

“Whatever, just tell me what you want me to do while you’re gone.”

“Well, Eddie’s taking the kids since you just started driving,”

“When’d you and Eddie get illegally married and then almost just as illegally divorced?? You sound like you’re talking about a custody agreement.”

Steve’s face turns pink, probably at the thought of being married to that Doofus. Ugh, he’s so in love it hurts. Truly.

“Shut up, Robin.” he shakes his head at her. “Anyway! He’s got their schedule covered and if he doesn’t, he’ll never hear the end of it from Henderson. You’ve just gotta watch the house, ‘kay?”

“Got it, water the kitchen, make sure the yard stays clean…”

Steve smiles fondly at her “Yeah, you got it.”

--

As soon as she knows Steve is in the air (really, AS. SOON.), she takes Steve's songbook and tape to the library. 

She pays the ridiculous cost of $0.25 for them to copy both page spreads, and immediately drives to the Forest Hills trailer park.

Eddie is on his porch with a cigarette hanging out one corner of his mouth, his acoustic guitar on his lap.

“I’m coming up, Munson, you better put out that cigarette!” she yells out her window at him as she parks.

“Yeah, yeah, waste all my smokes, why don’t I?” he grumbles to himself, but stubs it out all the same.

“Put the guitar down too, I need your full attention for this.” she says, coming up the two steps onto the porch and stopping in front of him.

He looks at her incredulously, but puts it down, leaning the guitar against the arm of the loveseat.

“Okay, you’ve got my full attention.” he spreads his arms out wide. “What is it, Birdie?”

“You are to take what I give you, and not breathe a word about it to Anyone. Else. You hear me?”

“Oohhkay? You’re freaking me out, Rob.”

“You’re Uncle’s working tonight right?”

“Yeah..?

“Take this and listen to side A.” she hands over the tape and he eyes it suspiciously, turning it over in his hand. “You’ll want these too.”

Eddie takes the offered papers and unfolds them. “Is this a tracklist?”

“It might be,” Robin shrugs and turns back to her car. “Steve will be back in three days. I have an excuse ready for why the tape’s gone if it takes you longer than that, but I’d rather not have to use it.” she calls over her shoulder.

“What does this shit have to do with Steve?”

She’s at her car now, and gives him a look over the top. “You’ll figure it out Eddie.”

Part 2 here!

[supernaturalscribe67]

The Secrets We (Don't) Keep

Words: 7,314

POV: 1st & 3rd Person

Pairing: Dean/Sam Winchester x Brother!Reader [Platonic]

Warning(s): Language, Fluff, Mention of John Winchester, Mention of Childhood Abuse, Awkward Moments

Summary: After finding out that his brothers, Sam and Dean, read the first entry of his journal, the reader decides to take a rather creative approach to his payback.

Request:

i’d love to see you continue with that winchester brother reader! or something similar? your writing is very comfortable to read :)

@stklett

@xdark-acadamiax - (Tagged because I saw how much you loved this idea!)

A/N: I really hope you guys enjoy this next part! I can honestly admit some parts make me laugh so I hope they make you guys laugh as well! Feedback is greatly appreciated!!!

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.

OCTOBER 2014

I don’t know why I thought I was going to be able to keep this journal private. I guess my expectations were too high. How dare I assume that Sam and Dean would respect my privacy? Of course, they wouldn’t. How dare I presume that hiding this thing between my mattress and boxspring would be a good idea? I mean, who in their right mind would hide something there? Everyone looks between their brother’s boxspring and mattress!

Silly me.

But, since I found out my brothers decided to read through my first entry (and ultimately vandalize my journal), I have done some brainstorming. Brainstorming ways that I can get back at them. I've considered the classic pranks to start with; itching powder in their underwear, hair dye in their shampoo, Nair in their body wash, or even putting laxatives in their coffee. All of these pranks have been used by all three of us multiple times. Even with some thinking, I’m still unable to come up with a prank that I feel would be good enough to teach them a lesson. 

So, I’ve come up with the next best thing. 

In this entry, I’m going to be writing down some of Sam and Dean’s embarrassing moments. 

Throughout our decades of life, all three of us have had our fair share of shameful moments, but the instances that I am thinking of are ones that I like to bring up from time to time. Each time I mention them, I get an eye roll from Dean and one of Sam’s classic bitch faces. It’s always so satisfying to get that kind of reaction from them. 

It would only be fitting to see what kind of reaction I get when they eventually read this entry. 

JUNE 1989

Everyone has their fears. Some people’s fears are more valid than others. Sam has a fear of clowns, I have a fear of needles, and Dean has a fear of planes. I can understand Sam’s fear of clowns - Plucky Pennywhistle's always made me uneasy when I was a kid - and, as far as my fear of needles, have you seen some of the needles that doctors use on patients? They’re HUGE! No thanks. 

What a lot of people don’t know about my older brother, however, is that he didn’t just suddenly have a fear of planes. He didn’t wake up one morning and discover that he didn’t like flying. Sam’s fear of clowns developed from our times at Plucky Pennywhistle’s, my fear of needles stemmed from an unprofessional doctor (who shouldn’t practice medicine anymore, in my opinion) from my second round of childhood vaccinations, and Dean’s fear of flying…well…

Dean used to be afraid of heights. 

I say ‘used’ to be because, if he still has that fear, he does a really good job at hiding it. We’ve gone to some pretty high places on our hunts, and, from what I noticed, it never seemed to bother him. He could always be masking it well enough, which is possibly the case. Then again, he could have learned to deal with the fear and forget about it completely. Lucky him. 

But, when Dean was younger, that was one thing that he was never good at doing - masking his emotions - especially when the three of us were by ourselves. When it was just us three, Dean felt like he could express how he truly felt about anything and we would keep it just between us. It was a little 'brother code' that we had going. Whatever was said between us was kept between us. Kind of like Vegas, in a way. 

What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas.

I’ve always wanted to visit Vegas. 

Stay on topic, (Y/N).

For most of our young childhood, we spent half the time traveling with our father, and the other half at Bobby’s. I always loved going to Bobby’s house. It felt like a home. To me, it was always my home growing up, even if I wasn’t there all the time. Even though we stopped going there as often when we got older, it was still the place that I would technically consider my home. We had the most fun there. We felt like we could be kids for once. Like we didn’t need to worry about the things that went bump in the night anymore. 

I loved Bobby’s house. 

We were there during summer vacation, which was somewhat of a common occurrence when we were younger. Sam, Dean, and I always found things to do while we were there, and playing throughout the maze of cars in Bobby’s junkyard wasn’t unusual. Normally, we would play hide-and-seek, tag, have races, or some stupid war games that we would come up with. 

That day, however, we discovered a new stack of cars, about six cars high in total, that we had not previously known about near the far backside of the property. We would have usually stayed towards the front, but, that day, we decided to roam around. Dean had the expert idea to see who could climb the highest. Sammy went first, climbing on top of the first car with some help before he got nervous and backed down. I managed to make it up three cars before I decided that I had enough and came back down. Dean, on the other hand, took the challenge a little too seriously. He didn’t waste any time reaching the car that sat on top of the pile. He was so proud of himself. 

It all went downhill after that…

“Ha! I beat you both!” Dean exclaimed as he stood on top of the roof of the car, fists balled up and placed onto his hips in a mock Superman pose. “I’m the King of the Cars!”

(Y/N) rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest. Sam pouted as he looked up at Dean, his bottom lip pushed out. 

“I wanna get up there,” he said, letting out a small whine.

“You tried to get up there, Sammy, but you said it was too high.” (Y/N) explained, looking down at him.

Sam hung his head as he kicked a pebble on the ground. Dean still stood on top of the car, waving his arms around. He let out quiet, faint shouts as if mimicking a cheering crowd. Sam pursed his lips ever so slightly.

"I wanna play hide-and-go-seek." 

"It's ‘hide-and-seek’, Sammy." (Y/N) deadpanned. 

"That's what I said." 

"Do you wanna play with just you and me?" 

"No," Sam shook his head and glanced up at his oldest brother, who was still cheering for himself. "I want De to play." 

(Y/N) gave a short nod before he turned to his older brother as well. He reached up and cupped his hands to the side of his lips. "Hey, idiot! Sammy and I wanna play hide-and-seek! Get down here so we can go play!" He called up to Dean. 

"You guys are just jealous because I could climb up to the top!" 

“No one’s jealous of you, Dean! We just want to play! Come on!” (Y/N) let out a groan as he placed his hands on his sides. 

Dean scoffed and waved him off. “Yeah, yeah, I’m coming.” He mumbled as he walked closer to the edge of the car. 

As Dean gazed down at the ground below, he froze. His eyes went wide and his legs and arms tensed. The confident smile that he had once had on his face was now gone, replaced by an uneasy frown. (Y/N) and Sam’s eyes were on him, watching him intently, waiting. After a minute or so of Dean standing there, not moving, (Y/N) shook his head and cupped his hands around his mouth again. 

“What are you doing?” He called out. 

(Y/N)’s voice caused Dean to jump and turn his gaze towards him. He opened his mouth, attempting to speak. 

“I-I can’t get down,” Dean said with a shaky tone. 

“What do you mean you ‘can’t get down’?” 

“I can’t get down! I-It’s too high!” 

“You were the one that wanted to get up there!” 

“I know I was, will you just shut up!” Dean’s voice came out cracked and high-pitched. 

(Y/N) closed his mouth and stood there, watching as Dean struggled to get down on his knees. As he attempted to move his leg down towards the trunk of the car, he felt the car shift. (Y/N) and Sam jumped when they heard the metal scrape against the car below. Dean let out a yelp and pulled his leg back. His fists were clenched onto nothing, knuckles a ghostly white color. His face was noticeably red and tears began to form in his eyes. 

“G-Go get Bobby!” Dean called down. 

“You can get down, Dean! You’ll be okay!” 

“No! I’m not okay!” Dean let out a sob. “It’s too high! The car’s going to fall. Go get Bobby,” Dean’s voice was as shaky as his hands were. 

(Y/N) looked down at Sam. “Go get Bobby, Sammy.” 

Sam’s eyes were wide with worry as he nodded slightly. He turned and made a mad dash towards the house. “Bobby! Bobby!” He cried out. 

(Y/N) then turned his attention back to Dean, who seemed like he was seconds away from having a breakdown.

“Dean! You’re going to be okay! Just come down the same way you went up.” 

“N-No!” Dean shook his head rapidly. 

“Quit being a baby!”

“I’m not a baby!” 

“Then why are you crying like one!?” 

“Will you shut up!?” 

(Y/N) stopped talking and let out a huff. Not even a minute later, Sam came running out towards them, Bobby quickly behind him. Bobby ran his fingers through his hair stressfully. 

“What the Hell have you idjits done?” 

It took thirty minutes of coaxing for Dean to be able to climb down two of the cars before Bobby had to make his way towards him and carry him down the rest of the way. Needless to say, Dean wasn’t in the mood to play any type of game with us after that, especially when I began to tease him mercilessly about his crying. I still tease him to this day about it, comparing him to a cat that had been stuck in a tree. Bobby was known as ‘Firefighter Bobby’ for a good month-and-a-half after that. 

We were forbidden from climbing on the cars anymore, which none of us seemed to have a problem with. As for my teasing, I had managed to get in trouble with Bobby once he caught me and was forced to help him organize the study while Sam and Dean went out to play. It wasn’t very fun, at the time, but I had learned a lot more about hunting during that punishment, so some good came out of it. 

To this day, Dean still likes to pretend as if it never happened. Or, if it did happen, then it was either Sam or me that needed to be rescued. Not him. He never needed to be rescued (according to him). Still, Sam and I can remember this vividly. It’s two against one, Dean. 

So much for ‘King of the Cars’.

OCTOBER 1989

Sam was always gullible when he was a kid. He grew out of it in his early teens and became more aware of how deceitful people could be. Before that, however, he was fun to mess with. I’m his big brother, I have a right to mess with him. 

I still do, but it’s not as easy. 

Sam was the type to believe anything that anyone wanted to tell him. Even if it was the most outlandish thing possible. I was able to convince him that unicorns were real and that everyone got one when they turned ten. When he asked Bobby what kind of unicorn he had gotten for his tenth birthday, Bobby told him the truth right then and there. He was so disappointed that he didn’t talk to me for about a week. I felt bad, at least a little bit. But the other part of me thought it was the funniest thing I had ever done to him at the time. 

That was when he was four. 

I still ask him what he wants his unicorn to look like. 

He hasn’t given me a straight answer yet. 

Around the age of six, Sam had started to let his hair grow out. Granted, everyone’s hair was growing out at that point - my father had neglected to get us any type of haircut for a little over six months - but out of all of ours, Sam’s was the longest. Dean had started calling him ‘Samantha’ at some point, which irritated Sam to no end. I decided to take a different approach, however. 

Back then, we knew about monsters. We knew about the different kinds of monsters that our father fought but didn’t know a lot about them. We knew their names, what they looked like, and common signs for each of them. One thing we didn’t know about certain monsters was how people were turned into them. 

So, with this limited knowledge in the back of my head, one dreary fall night, while our father was away on a hunt and Dean was out finding us some food, I decided to play a little…prank, if you will, on Sammy. 

Sam’s eyes were glued to the television screen. A rerun of Alf played that he was completely enamored with. Meanwhile, (Y/N)’s eyes were attached to something other than the show. He watched as Sam brushed his long locks out of his face occasionally. Sam tucked some hair behind his ear, but it didn’t stay there long before it fell in his face. His hair was down to his chin by then and (Y/N) had to admit that he was more irritated about the length than Sam was. 

When the show moved to a commercial break, Sam clenched his eyes shut and stretched his arms over his head. He glanced over at (Y/N) and furrowed his brows. 

“What’re you looking at?” 

“That hair,” (Y/N) gestured to the top of his head. 

Sam frowned. “What’s wrong with my hair?” 

“It’s long…too long,” (Y/N) narrowed his eyes suspiciously. He reached over and gently grabbed a piece of Sam’s hair before letting it go, allowing the strand to fall against Sam’s chubby cheek. 

“Dad said he was going to get it cut soon.” 

“Yeah, I know, but…it’s not like mine and Dean’s hair. It’s so much longer. It’s kind of like…” (Y/N) pursed his lips as he studied the top of his head. “Werewolf hair. Maybe you’re turning into a werewolf.”

Sam’s eyes slowly widened as he sat up straight and shifted uneasily in his seat. “I-I’m not turning into a werewolf.” 

“I don’t know, it sure seems like it.” 

Sam reached up and hesitantly ran his fingers through his hair. “How…how would I know if I’m turning into a werewolf?” 

“What? You don’t know the signs?” 

Sam shook his head. (Y/N) scoffed. 

“Come on, Sammy! You have to know the classic signs!” (Y/N) exclaimed as he leaned forward, a small smirk playing on the corner of his lips. “The long hair, the way your fingernails curve, the hair between your eyebrows, and your sharp teeth.” 

Sam brought his hands up to his face, his fingers roaming around his features. Quickly, he got off the couch and ran towards the motel bathroom, shoving the door open so hard that it bounced off the wall. (Y/N) followed after his brother. He watched as Sam studied himself in the mirror. He ran his fingers through his hair, brushed a single finger down his nose, studied the curvature of his fingernails, and bared his teeth. His eyes widened as soon as they landed on his sharp canines. Sam frowned and pushed his bottom lip out. It began to wobble as tears appeared in the corner of his eyes. He turned to (Y/N).

“I-I don’t want to be a werewolf!” He whimpered. 

(Y/N) leaned against the doorframe and shrugged his shoulders. “Sorry, Sammy. It looks like you can’t help it.” 

“B-But,” Sam turned and looked at himself in the mirror for a second before turning back to his brother. “But what if hunters come after me?” 

“Hey!” (Y/N) shook his head as he walked closer to Sam. He placed both of his hands on his shoulders, bending down so that he was at eye level with his little brother. “That is something you never have to worry about. Dean, Dad, and I will protect you.” 

Tears streaked down his red cheeks and he nodded. “Do you think Dad and De know?” 

(Y/N) sighed and pursed his lips, moving his hands off of Sam so that he could place them on his hips. “I don’t know. I don’t think so. They haven’t said anything about it, yet. But, I think you should tell them. That way, they will be able to protect you.” 

“I-I don’t wanna tell them.” 

“Why not?” 

“What if they don’t like me anymore because I’m a werewolf?” 

(Y/N) shook his head and gave a comforting smile. “Sammy, they’re always going to love you, werewolf or not.” 

“Really?” 

“Really.” 

Sam glanced down at the ground, his shoulders slumped. (Y/N) could see how much the news had upset his brother. He didn’t want him to be in hysterics by the time Dean got back, so he thought of the next best thing to try and cheer him up. 

“You know, a lot of people think that werewolves are the bad guys,” he began. “But you could be the first-ever werewolf hunter! You could be the one werewolf that protects humans from bad things! Kind of like a…uh…a werewolf superhero!” 

Sam looked up at him and raised his brows, cocking his head to the side. “A werewolf superhero?” 

“Yeah!” 

“Like a…a werewolf Batman?” A smile slowly appeared on Sam’s lips. 

“Just like a werewolf Batman.” 

The worry quickly left Sam’s face as he looked at himself in the mirror. He studied his face once more. “Maybe being a werewolf isn’t so bad,” he shrugged. “Thank you, (Y/N).” 

“Anytime, Sammy,” 

Sam turned and wrapped his arms tightly around (Y/N) in a bone-crushing embrace. “I love you.” 

(Y/N) couldn’t help the smile that appeared on his face. Whether it was from the sentimental words or the devious nature behind them, he wasn’t sure. He wrapped his arms around Sam as well, pulling him close. 

“I love you, too, Sammy.” 

For six months, six whole months, Sam kept the little secret quiet. He would mention it to me from time to time. Ask me questions about lycanthropy in general or question me about whether or not I thought Dean and our Dad knew about it. I would always comfort him, tell him that I didn’t think they knew anything, and we would go about our day-to-day lives. 

Eventually, it got to a point where I was hounding him to tell Dean and Dad about it. Sam was hesitant at first. He was scared about how they would react. I was able to talk him through it, though, and, one night, he sat all of us down so he could tell us. 

The look on Dean and Dad’s faces? 

Pure confusion. 

And I thought it was the funniest thing at the time. 

I had to hold back my laughter as I watched my father deal with Sam and explain that he couldn't be a werewolf if he had not been bitten by one. Sam was in hysterics at that point. He was crying and sobbing and while our father was trying his best to comfort him, I was trying my best to keep it together. At that moment, I patted myself on the back for the longest-lasting prank. 

The celebration didn’t last long. When Sam told our father that I was the one who told him about it, he was furious. I swear, I saw his eyes turn red. I won’t go into too many details about my punishment, but it was one of the worst ones that I got. Even now, I don’t think that it was what I deserved. But it happened, and I can’t necessarily change it. 

I couldn’t sit down for a week. 

The punishment didn’t stop me from teasing Sam about it, but it was quick to make me stop when Sam told me he was going to tell Dad. Now that Dad’s dead, Sam doesn’t have anyone to tattle to. I can say whatever I want. 

Cut that damn hair, Sammy. You look like a werewolf. 

JANUARY 2010

We always had some type of celebration for our birthdays. When we got older, that is. Not all of them necessarily had a cake and presents, but they were celebrations nonetheless whether we acknowledged it or not. Whenever Dean has a birthday, his favorite place to go is at any local bar that we were closest to at the time. Sam and I would switch back and forth on who would be the designated driver so that the other one could celebrate properly with Dean. On Dean’s 31st birthday, I was the designated driver. 

And, man, was I glad I was. 

We were in Colorado after just finishing a hunt. It was a smaller bar near the far northeast corner of the state. It was a little busy, given it was a Sunday, but most of the clientele seemed to consist of regulars who would come in after their nine-to-five. I honestly couldn’t tell you what the theme of the bar was. The decoration scattered on the walls was a mix of historical pieces from the town we were in, rock 'n roll memorabilia, and different pieces from various Colorado sports teams. 

Dean was plastered, and Sam wasn’t too far behind him. It had been a while since I saw the two of them get that drunk, but we were under a lot of stress at the time. I was jealous that I wasn’t the one who was able to get drunk enough to forget, but I figured I would make up for it later. 

The bar began to shut down around one in the morning. The bartender had shouted for 'last call' half an hour before. I knew that I had to get Sam and Dean back to the motel before we got kicked out. It wasn’t that hard to find Sam, he had refused to leave his seat at the table the entire night. Trying to find Dean, on the other hand, reminded me of reading those ‘Where’s Waldo?’ books in the school library when I was younger. 

Let me tell you when I did find him…

Oh boy. 

(Y/N) sighed as he ran a hand down his face. His eyes drooped and he felt as if his body weighed a thousand pounds. After scouring the entire bar to find his brother for the past thirty minutes, he concluded that he deserved a bed for himself when they got back to the motel. Sam and Dean could share a bed, or sleep on the floor. He didn’t care. He just wanted to get back and go to sleep. 

(Y/N) walked back up to the table that the three brothers had shared. Sam sat in his seat, back slouched over, his head laid on the wooden surface. His mop of hair was brushed carelessly over his face. (Y/N) placed a hand on his back, leaning close to him. 

“Sammy,” he said, his voice low. Sam visibly jumped as he looked up at him with tired, glazed eyes. “Have you seen Dean?” 

“Um…” Sam trailed, voice slurred, and pursed his lips. “Dean…Dean…” Before he could continue, Sam broke into a weak fit of laughter, his shoulders shaking. “Dean sounds a lot like ‘bean’. He looks like a bean because he’s short.”  

(Y/N) pressed his lips together and patted Sam’s back. “He sure does, buddy. Thanks for the help.” He spoke sarcastically. 

He stood up straight and turned around, his back now facing Sam. He ran his fingers through his hair as he looked around the almost empty bar. There were still a couple of regulars scattered around here and there, but most of them were clearing out. No sign of Dean, though. (Y/N) had to wonder how his brother could get lost in such a small place, but Dean had managed to do the impossible. Again. 

In front of him, (Y/N) could see the bartender from earlier. She had walked around the small U-shaped bar and was making her way towards him. Before she could get closer, (Y/N) shook his head. He held his hands up slightly. 

“I know you made 'last call' a while ago, and I’m sorry for staying, ma’am. I’m just trying to find my idiot brother.” He said with an apologetic tone. 

“Well, that was actually why I was coming over here.” She said and placed her hands on her hips. “There’s some guy in the back and I was wondering if he belonged to you.” 

(Y/N)’s shoulders slouched as he let out a sigh. “I am so sorry. I’ll pay for anything he broke or stole.” 

“No, he didn’t break or steal anything. He’s doing…something else.” 

(Y/N) furrowed his brows as an uneasy feeling began to make its way to his stomach. “What is he doing?” 

She gestured back towards the bar. “Why don’t you come see for yourself?”

Hesitantly, he gave a nod and followed the bartender. She took him around the bar and to the back. Past the saloon-style swinging doors, a couple of feet into the supply room, (Y/N) came face to face with a sight he would never be able to forget. 

Dean leaned against one of the many metal shelves. Even with something to lean on, his body swayed back and forth, indicating just how intoxicated he was. A goofy grin was present on his red face. One hand was balled into a fist and placed on his hip while the other one hung casually off of the shelf he leaned on. Beside him stood a mannequin, clad in an aged Colorado Rockies uniform paired with a baseball cap featuring the same team’s logo. (Y/N)’s jaw dropped. 

Dean was flirting with a mannequin. 

The bartender smirked. “He’s been back here for the last hour. I was going to kick him out, but I listened to how sweet he was being to Manny and I felt bad for him, so I just let him stay.” She nodded and leaned against the door, propping it open. 

“Manny?” (Y/N) questioned, not taking his eyes off of his brother. 

“Yeah. Manny the Mannequin. It’s this damn mannequin that the owner bought for twenty bucks when the local Sears closed down. He needed to put his stupid baseball outfit somewhere and he thought the best thing to do would be to put it on Manny and leave it in a bar. The regulars weren’t too nice to Manny, so we had to put him in the back here. It seems like your brother somehow snuck past me and found him.” 

“I…I am so sorry about this.” (Y/N) gestured to his brother, who had begun to fiddle with the hem of the Rockies shirt. 

The bartender snorted. “Trust me, this isn’t the worst thing a customer has done to poor Manny. Just get him out of here.” 

“Yes, ma’am. Right away,” (Y/N) mumbled. 

He stepped into the room just as the bartender turned and walked out. As he got closer, Dean began to giggle. 

“You know, you have the prettiest eyes. Has anyone ever told you that? Oh, come on, I bet a lot of people tell you that. They’re like��like, um…” Dean paused and stared down at the ground. 

(Y/N) quirked a brow and placed his hands on his hips. When he did, he felt the outline of his phone in his jeans pocket. A smirk made its way onto his face as he took out his phone. He knew that he could use this moment for entertainment purposes later. He began to record his brother as he cleared his throat. Dean jumped and turned to (Y/N), eyes wide.

“Hey, Dean. What’re you doing?” (Y/N) asked cautiously. 

A smile broke out on Dean’s face as soon as he recognized his brother’s voice. “Oh! (Y/N), I want you to meet someone,” he slurred as he wrapped an arm around Manny’s shoulders, pulling the mannequin closer to him. “This is Cozy. She’s…she’s the most beautiful woman here and we’re going to get married.” 

“Are you?” 

“Yeah! Isn’t that right, baby?” Dean giggled as he reached up and poked Manny’s nose. “She’s the love of my life.” 

“Well, I am so happy for you, Dean. She looks…beautiful.” (Y/N) was trying his hardest to keep from laughing. 

“Thank you.” Dean smiled proudly. 

“I think you’ve talked to Cozy enough for one day, though. I think we need to get back to the motel.” 

Dean frowned. “But I don’t wanna. I wanna stay with Cozy.” 

“I know, buddy,” (Y/N) walked over and placed his hand on Dean’s shoulder. “But Cozy has to go home, too. You can call her in the morning. Plus, we have pie back at the motel.” 

Dean gasped dramatically. “Pie?” 

“Yeah, pie,” (Y/N) pulled Dean away from the mannequin and wrapped an arm around his torso. 

“Pecan?” 

“Yes, Dean, pecan pie.” 

“Oh, (Y/N), you know, you’re the best brother a guy could have.” Dean leaned his head against (Y/N)’s shoulder as the two of them stumbled out of the back room and towards their table. Dean let out another gasp as soon as he saw Sam. He patted Sam sloppily on his shoulder. “Sammy! Sammy! I met a girl!” 

Sam groaned and lifted his head. He looked between (Y/N) and Dean, narrowing his eyes. “That’s not a girl! That’s your brother, stupid.” Sam grumbled. 

(Y/N) sighed and rolled his eyes. “Come on, guys. Let’s get back to the motel before you pass out on me.” 

There was no pie back at the motel. I just know that’s one of the only things that could get Dean’s attention. 

Thankfully, both of them waited until they were in the car to pass out. I had tried my hardest to wake them up, but they weren’t budging. In the end, they both slept in the backseat of the Impala while lying on top of one another. It seemed like it would be extremely uncomfortable, but I wouldn’t know. I was able to go back into the room and relax in my own bed, in a place that was peaceful and quiet. No snoring, no moving around, nothing. It was some of the best sleep I ever had. 

In the morning, when Dean and Sam woke up, they had to ruin my peaceful sleep by knocking on the door. They were a mess, both completely out of it and hungover. The smell of vomit stunk up the room so bad that I swear it’s still there if we were to go back and check. I got them painkillers, got them some water, and made sure they were nice and fed. When we were all sitting down and finally eating, I let them have it.

Oh, the teasing. 

So much teasing. 

I showed them both the video of Dean flirting with Manny. Dean grumbled and tried to get me to delete the video while Sam was trying his best not to laugh his ass off - he really couldn’t because of how bad his head probably hurt. Throughout our conversation, I swear, whenever I would look over at Dean, I could see his cheeks turn pink. I knew I had the perfect blackmail. 

I still have the video. 

You know, just in case. 

APRIL 2014

Everyone who knows Dean understands just how much of a serial flirt he is. If it breathes and if he finds it attractive, he will flirt with it (the story with Manny should make that pretty obvious). I, on the contrary, know how to flirt, but I don’t do it as often as he does. Sure, I flirt with people now and then to get my fix, but it’s not something that I do every time I go out. 

Sam, on the other hand, is the complete opposite of Dean. 

Sam was always the type to be awkward around people he found attractive, even when he was a kid. The number of times I would see him in the hallways of schools trying to talk to girls was hilarious, but he carried that awkwardness into adulthood. I admit, a couple of years ago, that boy had some moves. He knew all the right things to say and do to make anyone swoon for him. I was sort of jealous of him, and I could tell that Dean was proud of him, in a way. 

However, with how much has been going on the past couple of years, I’ve noticed that Sam has gotten a little rusty when it comes to flirting. There has been more than one occasion where he received a pretty nasty glare or a drink to the face followed by some rather colorful language. At first, I felt bad for him, but then it started getting funny. As he kept trying, the conversations he would have with people would last longer and longer than the last time. It still took him a while to leave with anyone, but baby steps. Baby steps. 

There was one time earlier this year when I thought he was going to get a happy ending. It was going so well! I had to admit that I had been spying on him throughout his interaction, just out of sheer curiosity. We were celebrating after a hunt in Arizona. Nothing too big, just a basic salt and burn with a basic bar afterward. It was Saturday and the bar seemed like it was packed. We were lucky to find a table. Thankfully we did because my feet had ached that night from all the digging. 

While I rested at the table, Dean went off to try and snag his own after-hunt reward while Sam walked over to the bar to chat up some cute brunette he had seen. The entire time, I entertained myself by watching him from a distance. Everything was going so well. 

Unfortunately, for Sam, he let his awkwardness get the best of him. 

“I swear, none of the good-lookin’ ones are single,” Dean grumbled as he took his seat back at the table, a defeated look on his face. 

“Maybe you should lower your standards?” (Y/N) shrugged as he took a sip of beer, his eyes glued to his younger brother across the bar. “I mean, they have to lower their standards to sleep with you, don’t they? It’s about time you do the same.” 

“Fuck you,” Dean scoffed a sipped his beer. 

“Sorry, not interested.” 

Dean rolled his eyes before he looked at (Y/N), noticing his gaze. He furrowed his brows. “The Hell are you looking at, anyway?” 

Dean turned his head to look in the same direction as (Y/N), shifting his head to look over people as he attempted to see what had grabbed his brother’s attention. (Y/N) licked his lips and smirked. 

“Looks like Sammy might get some tonight.” He said. 

“No shit? Where?” 

“At the far end of the bar. He’s talking to the babe in the blue dress.” 

Once Dean stopped moving his head, he was able to see Sam and the woman standing at the corner of the bar. Both of them were facing one another. The woman leaned up against the bar while Sam had his hands placed awkwardly in his pockets. Both of them had smiles on their faces as they talked. 

“Damn, she’s hot,” Dean mumbled. 

“I know, right? He needs to take his hands out of his pockets, though. He looks like a fucking shy middle-schooler asking his crush out to the dance.” 

“Eh,” Dean waved him off. “He always looks like that.” 

“Yeah, I know, and have you seen him leave with anyone recently?” 

“Point taken. So, what? You’ve just been watching this whole time?” 

“I need to keep myself entertained somehow. Not in the mood for a one-night-stand, so I have to make my own fun.” 

Dean gave a short nod before he continued to watch Sam. (Y/N) and Dean sat in silence as they watched Sam talk with the woman, mumbling back and forth to one another. As the two of them talked, Sam became visibly more comfortable. His movements became more animated and he pulled one of his hands out of his pockets. Both Dean and (Y/N) were practically sitting on the edge of their seats, their drinks completely forgotten about. 

After ten agonizing minutes of watching, it was clear that Sam had become completely relaxed. They continued to talk as the lively bar moved around them. It was almost as if no one existed but the two of them. They were so engrossed in their conversation that Sam neglected to see the serving tray full of beer that was sitting down on the bar next to them. Finally, Sam took his other hand out of his pocket. He moved to lean on the bar, but his elbow never touched the polished bartop. 

Instead, his elbow leaned against the edge of the serving tray, knocking it over. The tray and glasses clattered to the ground, sending glass particles across the floor. Beer splashed on himself and the woman he had been talking to, who had a look of horror across her face. 

(Y/N)’s eyes widened as he quickly reached over and grabbed Dean’s arm. His jaw dropped and he immediately felt the laughter bubble up inside of his chest. He covered his mouth with his other hand and turned towards Dean. Dean snorted and turned his body so that he was facing (Y/N), his own eyes wide and hand covering his mouth as well. Both Dean and (Y/N) shook as they tried to contain the laughter. 

They sat there, attempting to hide their amusement as Sam walked back over to the table, a defeated look on his face. He sat down, grabbed the beer that he had once forgotten about, and took a long swig. When he saw Dean and (Y/N) practically doubled over, he raised a brow. 

“What’re you two laughing at?” He asked as a small smirk played on the corner of his lips. 

(Y/N) turned away from Dean, pressing his lips together as he placed both of his hands on his beer. His gaze averted to the table, unable to look at Sam without laughing. He shook his head. 

“Nothing…” he spoke in a broken, high-pitched voice. “Nothing, nothing. You wouldn’t get it.” He waved off and took a drink. 

Sam looked towards Dean, who took a drink as well. “Yeah, you wouldn’t get it,” he paused. “Just like you didn’t get that chick’s number.” 

(Y/N) snorted as he let out a laugh, his shoulders bouncing. Sam’s smirk vanished and was replaced with a deep frown. His cheeks turned a light shade of pink as he slammed his cup down on the table and stood. 

“Real mature, you guys,” he grumbled, grabbing his jacket from the back of the chair. 

“Oh, come on, Sammy!” Dean exclaimed. “You almost had her!” 

Sam rolled his eyes as he put his arms into his jacket sleeves. “Hey, Sammy, look on the bright side!” (Y/N) began. “At least you were able to get her wet somehow.” 

(Y/N) howled and slapped his hand on the table, Dean following suit. One of (Y/N)'s arms was curled against his stomach as he leaned forward. Sam glared at him. 

“I’m going back to the motel.” He growled out before he turned sharply and walked away before Dean or (Y/N) could say anything. 

By the time (Y/N) and Dean were done laughing, tears were rolling down their faces and their cheeks were bright red. Dean used his thumb and index finger to wipe away the tears while (Y/N) used the collar of his shirt. Once they were both settled, they leaned back in their seats. Dean shook his head. 

“We really need to get that kid a hooker or something,” He finally said. 

“I second that,” (Y/N) nodded and raised his glass. 

Dean raised his glass as well before they both drank. 

Sam didn’t talk to us for the rest of the night. He didn’t talk to us for the next couple of days until we got back to the bunker. Dean and I would try to get him to talk to us about something, anything, even the nerdy shit that he’s into, but he wouldn’t budge. On the drive back, he was wearing his headphones the entire time, so that whenever Dean or I would try to talk to him, he had some type of excuse as to why he didn’t talk to us. 

Little asshole. 

Wish I had headphones that I could just pop in to ignore the two of them. 

Maybe I’ll pick some up? 

Of course, I felt bad for the kid. He looked like he was having a good time, but you should have seen the look on the woman’s face when the beer spilled all over her. It was priceless! I had wished I held it together long enough to be able to see what had happened afterward, but if the look on her face had any correlation with her reaction, it probably wasn’t a good one. 

Don’t feel too bad for the kid, though, he got laid a couple of months ago. He’s fine, basically back to normal. 

Still, Dean and I like to bring it up occasionally. Sam has stopped getting so angry about it and has just resorted to rolling his eyes and ignoring us. One of these days, he’s going to get the balls to use one of our embarrassing pick-up attempts against us to shut us up. 

God knows he probably has more instances of us than we do of him.

 

OCTOBER 2014

Jesus, my wrist hurts. Do people normally write this much in their journals? Certainly not at once, right? I have to be setting a new World Record. I wonder if there’s a world record for something like this? I’ll need to look it up later. 

Trust me, though, I have yet to scratch the surface of the embarrassing memories I have of my two brothers. These are just my favorite ones. If they decide to read this, I hope the two of you enjoyed going down memory lane! Maybe you’ll learn not to look at other people’s shit? 

Who am I kidding, of course you won’t. 

I’ll need to hide this somewhere else. Maybe my closet? Maybe in one of my bags? I can’t even think of a place where they won’t eventually find it. Whatever, I’ll hide it in the back of my closet and see where that gets me. 

The bunker door just opened. Sounds like Sam and Dean are back from the supply run. I’ll need to make this short and simple so I can help them put the groceries away before they start bitching at me. 

Until next time,

Stay safe. (That STILL sounds bad. God, I’m terrible at ending these things.)

[askbensolo]

Journal Entry #55: Updates on my novel and also my life

So, the blurrg sex scene probably isn’t integral to the main thread of my novel. But, I’m hesitant to cut it because I think it would be kriffing hilarious to tell people there’s a sex scene in my story, only for them to find out two-thirds of the way in that it’s just two blurrgs blurrging it on.

Also, the fact that I witnessed it with my own two eyes on Ryloth means I have to share the trauma.

A few more no-context spoilers for fun:

Fannie’s Sisters Casually Emasculate Me Over Dinner

Fifty Teenage Twi’lek Boys, One Brain Cell

Pennie Pentarra is Not the Innocent Victim I Thought She Was

Ruut Pentarra Joins the Club of People Who Disapprove of Me Dating Fannie (But Because He Thinks I Could Do Better)

Fannie and I Spent the Night in a Sex Dungeon (Nothing Happened)

And also…

Fannie and I Broke Up (Again)

So! I’ve spoiled the ending for you! You don’t even need to read it!!

Did I write this post mainly because I didn’t know how else to announce my breakup? Maybe. Possibly.

It’s not like it’s a surprise or anything. I think we all saw it coming.

Well, except for her, maybe.

…

Well—anyway.

I thought writing a novel about my own life would be easy because I didn’t actually have to come up with the plot, but—there is actually an art to arranging the details in a way that flows and makes sense. So, even though I’m like 80% done with my first draft already…I know it’s kind of garbage at this point, and I’ll have to do quite a bit of polishing.

Luckily, I will have lots of time to do that! Because…I finally admitted to my mom about Snoke Part Two: The Snokening, and—as expected—she is making me quit my job and move back home immediately!!

And normally that would leave Poe paying 2,000 credits of monthly rent on his own, but in the interests of expediting my homecoming, my mom is graciously paying the difference until Poe can find another roommate.

Luckily, I know a guy. He threatened to kill me in the back of a Spacebucks once, but, eh—water under the bridge.

And speaking of ol’ stick-up-his-butt…

…I ended up paying back Armitage for all my “free” coffees.

Yeah. The Force made me do it—or something. Call it an early Life Day miracle.

I’ve been rethinking a lot, let’s just say that. I knew I could part with the credits, since I won’t be paying rent for the foreseeable future, and I’m gonna look for a new job on Hosnian Prime.

Ha. Armitage, Poe and Beebee-Ate. Now, I can see them all getting along reeaal well. Heh heh heh.

Sigh. I’m gonna miss Naboo, and miss Theed. I’ve spent the past three years of my life here.

…I miss Fannie too. I wish I hadn’t…well…yeah.

I’ll even miss Poe and Beebee-Ate. I’m leaving right as they were beginning to grow on me. Poe’s been a good buddy (even if I’ve seen his bare ass more times than I ever wanted to).

About the only thing I won’t miss is my job—but even then, it was part of my routine, something that made my days predictable in the bad way but also kind of in the good way, and it was a key part of my new life as an official grown-up adult-person-guy.

I’m gonna hang out with my old college bud Treeso one last time before I leave Naboo. And then I’m gonna put in my two weeks’ notice, pack up my stuff, try to sell whatever I can’t take home, and then…that’ll be that, I guess.

Goodbye, Naboo.

I feel like everything in my life is changing all at once. It’s…kind of sad.

But…that’s just how it goes. Isn’t it?

“Always in motion, is the future,” Fannie said, when we were breaking up.

“What?”

“The future. It’s always in motion.”

“Well, yeah—but why’d you say it backwards, the first time?”

“I don’t know,” she said, surprised, like she’d never thought about it before. “That’s just always the way Master Luke said it.”

And speaking of Uncle Luke…

…Mom wants me to start meeting with him again.

…It’s okay. Fannie and I aren’t a thing anymore anyway, so…

…Yeah.

My twenty-fourth birthday is in a couple of weeks. I was originally gonna do something for it, ‘cause I have ongoing December-birthday-overshadowed-by-Life-Day trauma—but…meh. I’m too busy now to celebrate. Twenty-four’s pretty much the same thing as twenty-three anyway.

Hey—sorry I haven’t written as much, the past month. (Well, I’ve been writing a lot—just, not for my blog.) But…I’ll try to keep you guys updated on my move, and whatever. Happy to answer any questions about my writing project, too.

Oh—but do me a favor and don’t…ask Fannie about my trip to Ryloth, or anything. Some…stuff happened while I was there—I mean, besides the breakup—and…well, I think it’s just best if you don’t ask. I’m not sure it’s something she’d like to talk about.

Hope everyone is staying warm and enjoying season’s festivities and punching germs in the face and all that.

Me—I’m doing pretty okay, too.

You know me. I always pull through.

Your dude,

—Ben

[kaittalkstoomuch]

Hey! A new chapter is live! I hope you guys are doing good.

Chapter Twenty-Nine: The War Zone

Tw: mentions of blood, mentions of guns, someone punches a prick that’s it

Nancy stands by my side and it seems we have a buddy system going on. Steve is with Robin, makes sense. Max and Erica are together, good. It was just Nancy and I. “You okay?” She asks as I look around wary. “Yeah, just.. What if Jason is here? With his idiot friends? He’ll know Eddie’s here.” Nancy grabs my hand. “He is not going to lay a fucking finger on you, or Eddie. I will not let that happen.”

We go check out everything. This place has a ton of things. I’m talking first aid supplies, guns, weapons, Molotov cocktails. I see Nancy eyeing the guns. “So, what’s in the bag?” She asks as I look at the Hunter green crossbody bag Dustin packed. “Clothes. I think… the anniversary gift Eddie made me… my camera, journal.”

Nancy seems to smile once I say “journal.” “Do you still write silly little entries about your adventures like you did with ‘Hawkins Angels’?” We continue looking and grab guns and magazines. I can’t help but to laugh. “I gotta keep the magic alive.” It was then we both started laughing, and I feel our friendship blooming again. “Do you write about being the ‘Dungeon Mistress?” “I do. I write about those nights.”

I remember the old times with Nancy and Barb. How it dissolved so quickly. How Nancy felt with me leaving, how Barb must’ve felt. There’s a bit of a pang in my chest. “I always look at my scrapbook with photos of the three of us, especially when I can’t sleep. I truly miss those times.” Nancy gives me a sympathetic look.

“Oh, Rox.” We hug. “I’m okay, Nance.” I say hushly. “I promise. I’m so happy we’re okay. I’ve really missed you.” “I’ve missed you too, Rox. It really hasn’t been the same.” I chuckle. “Obviously.” Nancy chuckles back. “Well, I mean, these past few years, they’ve been pretty intense.”

“So I’ve heard… Dustin would tell me about when Will went missing and the connection to Barb’s death. Then the recurrence a year later. Though, what really intrigued me was the Russians and of course, Billy. God, he was such an asshat, but he didn’t have to die… Poor Max.”

Nancy holds out a gun at the gun counter. We examine it together. “Yeah, the Mind Flayer got him. It was devastating watching him get killed. And then we can’t even say what the actual cause was. It sucks. I know Max is struggling with it. I think Vecna was using Billy’s death to torture her.” “Me too.”

I look to my right for a split second and see Vickie, Robin’s crush. “Holy shit.” I whisper. “What?” Nancy looks over. “Nothing, everything is okay.” I can’t blurt out Robin’s secret. That’s sacred. “How much?” “$129.” The clerk says. I sigh at the sight. “We should get guns for the guys, to be on the safe side. You know?” I say referring to The Hellfire Club. Nancy nods.

I see Nancy holding the gun in her hands and giggle as I pull out my camera. I snapped a photo of Nancy, making her smile. “What’s that for?” I smirk. “My new scrapbook. I’m not sure what I’m gonna call it yet, but we’ll look back years later and see what badass people we are.” “‘86’ seems accurate. It’s what popping into my mind. It’s senior year, we’re kicking Vecna’s ass. It’s the year of big, big changes.”

Nancy grabs my camera for a quick second while I pose for the camera. We’re both laughing as she hands me the camera. “Nailed it, Foxy Roxie.” A chill suddenly runs through my spine and bile forms in my throat. That voice doesn’t need to register as I whip around beside Nancy, camera in hand. Nancy has the gun in her hand looking it over.

Jason’s holding a revolver and looking rather unhinged. “Jason.” Nancy breathes as I shudder. “Nancy Wheeler and Roxie Henderson. An unexpected combination.” I grip on my camera and slip it back into my bag. “Don’t you need to report me to the cops?” I manage to slip.

Jason tsks as if I said something degrading. Nancy tenses up and so do I. “They’re no use… besides…. Is your satanic worshiping boyfriend here? Or your brothers? Mike Wheeler and Dustin Henderson, right?” I ball my fist up. “Leave our brothers alone.” Nancy growls.

I look over to my right and make eye contact briefly with Erica, who is frightened and runs off. She’s gonna alert the others of our predicament.

Jason walks closer to us, we stay stern in our place. Jason’s eyes look insane. Pupils are dilated, wild. My fist tightens as I stare into his eyes. “Let go.” Nancy replies to Jason, who grabs the barrel of the gun. I instinctively slam the money on the counter for the cashier.

“She said let go!” I snarl as I throw my fist in his face, grabbing Nancy’s hand and running away. We got the goods.

Steve hurriedly opens the door to the RV and we all come charging in. “What happened?” Dustin asks. “Lucas’ old friends showed up.” Erica says as I crawl to Eddie, who takes my apparent bloodied hand. “Damn Rox, what happened?” “STEVE DRIVE!” Dustin yells as Robin hands us a first aid kit, of many.

“She finally gave Jason what he deserved.” Erica says proudly. Eddie returns the same expression while wrapping my hand. “You punched Carver?” “Yes. He was threatening everyone. I have to protect my people.”

Eddie grabs my face as Steve speeds. His kiss is electrifying. “As much as I wanted to see that, I’m so happy you did that. I bet you looked hot.” I laugh at his goofiness. “She was smoking!” Nancy says, making everyone laugh.

“He was so unhinged Eddie. His eyes were so dilated. He’s out for blood. Ours.” I shudder in Eddie’s arms. “We got him, baby, don’t worry. We will end this.” He kisses my injured hand.

I look over at Robin, somberly looking out the window. It’s Vickie, something must’ve happened. Dustin and Lucas interrupt my worry. “Does it hurt?” Lucas asks. “Did he look scared when you punched him?” I lightly smile thinking of Jason’s possible reaction. “Oh yes, yes he did.” I smile at Eddie, who smirks back.

“I bet he’s pissed.” Dustin sayas. “I took a quick look before running out. He has a black eye. It was gold watching Roxie punching him.” Erica says. “I would’ve aimed for his nose, but I was in panic mode. He just about hurt Nancy. My instincts kicked in.” Eddie kisses my hand. “And they were perfect.”

[girl-among-mts]

9. Celebrate

Rose was perhaps more judicious about the intel she’d uncovered than the New Alliance might have wanted. She was careful to send a majority of the informative files back to their assignment officer, but loaded the more sensitive reports onto her datachip, including the Commandant’s journal entries.

To her astonishment, she might have even found the vials of Micron-gel, though it was hard to tell. There were no labels, no markings of any kind, and the contents looked black rather than red. They’d been hidden in a compartment under the broken writing desk; she’d sawed it open with her vibroknife.

Stuffing her findings into her bag, she wriggled her way back into the crisp, Arkanis air. Hux was nowhere to be seen, though the speeder was still parked where they’d left it.

Maybe in the past she’d have been worried at his absence or felt a creeping uncertainty, not unlike loosing track of a krykna spider in your bunk. But Hux never strayed far.

Trekking up towards what would have been the Academy’s main hall, she spotted him on a crumbled rampart, staring out over the cliffs to the sea below. Their momentary respite from the planet’s storms was waning, darkening clouds casting him in dramatic low-light.

“Did you find what you were looking for?” he asked without turning, hearing her footsteps on the stone.

“Yeah, um…” Rose shifted her stance, unsure how much Hux knew.

“Good,” he said, cutting off her hedging. “Then we may depart.”

There still wasn’t any concrete evidence that *he’d* been the baby mentioned in the project notes, but…

“There’s… nothing else you want to do? Before we leave?”

He turned to her then, looking tired; well-worn. “I can think of nothing more than... perhaps celebrating on the ashes.”

His words tugged at her heart.

“You… really hated it here, didn’t you.”

His mouth pressed into a thin line, tearing his gaze away to stare out over the sea once more.

“Everything that made me has its roots here, Rose. Everything I am. Everything I’ve done.” He smirked, though it was twisted and self-deprecating. “To think some lowly bastard child could achieve so many terrible things.” Quietly, he added, “Perhaps my father /was/ wrong about me.”

With that, he quit the rampart, brushing past her back towards the speeder.

Rose watched him go, a lump twisting in her stomach, before turning back to the darkening sky.

Carefully, she took out the datachip and vials, holding them in her hands. With resolve, she snapped the chip in half, tipping up on her toes to dump both it and the vials over the edge, watching their long descent down the cliff side.

They were so high, she could barely make out the delicate glass tubes smashing against the jagged rocks below, staining them an almost imperceptible dark red.

Then the ocean heaved, frothing pink against the rock, and dragged it all back out to sea.

[dem0nguy]

The council (me, myself, and I) have decided, I shall post about my way-too-elaborate OC lore!

I’ll likely share this through story snippets, spurts of lore, art, or whatever else comes to me. Regardless, I hope you enjoy something I’ve been crafting for many years in the back of my mind.

Now let me introduce you to a story called:

A Good Demon

Listen, part of me still doesn’t understand everything that’s happened to me over the past couple years. But these journal entries, those that I wrote while it was happening. May be the only accurate recount I can give you.

So much has changed over the years, I’ve lost and gained. I’ve gone from a naïve little boy to a kid who knows too much for his age.

So let my younger self tell you our story:

9/22/19

It’s My Birthday! Wahooo!!!!

Man I’ve been psyched for weeks! I’m turning twelve, and tomorrow I start 6th grade! It’s kinda crazy honestly. I’m not sure if I should be excited, or terrified.

But well, that’s what this journal is for. Writing down my thoughts and worries. As much as I will use it for that, I also wanna be able to look back when I’m older! It’ll be cool to see what future me thinks of present me (I hope future me is doing well!) He’s not, but the notion is nice.

I got a whole bunch of presents today! First off, I got this journal. Which seemed like a lame present at first (especially in comparison to my twin brother’s remote controlled car) but I’m learning to like it. I think… The journal is a marble red-black pattern, with a gold engraving on the front of my name “Adam”.

I also got a bunch of chocolate (my favorite candy!), as well as action figures from my favorite TV show, a few new books, a couple letters with money, and an odd red and blue crystal necklace. Irrelevant as it may be, chocolate is still my favorite candy.

The necklace was a gift from my Uncle Sam. He’s a very, err, interesting guy? I don’t know, he’s very closed off, and doesn’t seem very fond of anything really. But my dad (his twin brother. Isn’t it crazy there are two pairs of twins in this family??) Likes having him around.

My twin, Conner, got a similar necklace. Though it was a little more blue than red. Uncle Sam was very hesitant when giving them to us, almost as though he didn’t want to. It made me wonder if my dad had made him buy these for us.

I’m not ungrateful for his gift. Just, skeptical. He told us to keep the necklaces close by all day and night, that they’re a sign of good luck. Should’ve been more skeptical…

I’m not exactly gonna give up potential good luck. I’ll definitely need it for tomorrow. I’m absolutely terrified that I’m gonna get lost in the big concrete building that is “middle school.” I’ll have more than one teacher a year now, how will I remember them all?? What if I forget and walk into the wrong classroom? God that would be so embarrassing. All the looks from the other students trained on me, I can almost hear their snickering and laughing in my ears!

Even worse, what if I’m stuck in a class with no one I know? What if all my friends and my brother are on completely different sides of the building? What if there’s an emergency?? What would I do? Funny how this was my greatest fear when I was twelve.

I don’t think I can answer any of those questions, just thinking about them shakes me to the core. But, it is nice to write down on paper. Somehow the words are less scary when you can see them.

Hey, maybe this good luck charm will help me after all.

Little did I know it would make my life living hell.

(Part twoooooo :D)

[grimm-rider]

Entry 26

I have seen a future that was so beautiful, and so very enticing. And completely unobtainable.

I haven’t written in a while. A lot’s happened. I’ve been busy. Helping to run a rebellion, saving people from Crone Queens, and generally weakening Elvanna’s hold on the city doesn’t exactly leave me much time for scribbling in a book. And at this point I’m not even sure if I need this journal anymore. Now that I know why I lost my memories before, I no longer think it’s particularly likely that it is going to happen again.

But…I feel compelled to write today after what I saw. Emotions are a bastard. I wish I could just rip them out. Throw them away. Things were so much easier when I didn’t care about anyone but myself.

The worst part is I know I don’t really mean that. As inconvenient as caring is, I wouldn’t want to lose Greta. Or Aenland, Edeya, Nestian, or Cesseer. But especially Greta.

We killed the prince of the Winter Wolves to get Greta back. A nasty bastard with two heads, who turned into some twisted royal wolf spirit after we killed him the first time and he had to be put down again before he stayed down. Greta inherited some of his power afterwards. And now she’s back with me. I felt whole again when we reunited, after days of fearing that at any moment Elvanna would order the two Crone Queens at the prince’s side to kill her, and that we—I—would be nowhere near to help.

Those were the worst couple of days. I am not afraid of many things. Having that hanging over me…it was awful. It was the worst. I never want to be in that position again.

I know Greta can take care of herself. It’s not like I’m going to become overprotective or anything. Her strength and confidence in using it is one of the things I like about her, I would never try to stand in the way of her and a fight she can survive. But her being there alone in the heart of the viper’s nest with two Crone Queens and dozens of enemy Winter Wolves including their prince…those would not have been good odds for any one of us alone. If Elvanna had said the word, she would have been alone, outnumbered, and in their home turf.

…It’s fine. It didn’t happen. It’s over now. Both the Crone Queens and the wolf prince are dead and Greta is safely with us. Cesseer is safe and back with the resistance as well. She’s even brought along some friends from prison who she’s training in the ways of being a Battleflower.

Cesseer’s jailbreak went exceptionally well, especially considering how stacked the odds were against us. I got us in, disguised as a guard with Greta on my arm as herself. We had Xernabeth fabricate some fake anti-magic wristbands so that everyone else would look like they were subdued in the manner of actual prisoners. Then we went from block to block convincing the inmates to join in on a plan we thought up with Cesseer to start an uprising that night.

We then snuck upstairs using a garbage chute, procured all of our allies’ confiscated equipment, and I got into contact with Cesseer with a plan to start the riot right as we got into position to attack the Crone Queen, so that we could take out her device to flood the entire prison in the split second that she was caught by surprise.

Oh, yeah, the entire prison was located under the lake and the Crone Queen was able to flood the entire place at the press of a button, slaughtering everyone inside if she felt the prison was compromised.

Anyways, long story short Aenland and Nestian smashed the staff with the button, we killed the Crone Queen and her disgusting magic slinging giant worm, and everyone was free to go on their way. Some of the prisoners joined our cause. Cesseer and her Battleflowers, obviously. But also a rather amusing group made up of a frost giant and his six gnome companions.

Oh also before we got into the prison we met a plant man who was one of the people who originally killed Illivor, and he offered to re-kill her to reincarnate her as a human again. She left with him and so for the entire prison escape Edeya’s familiar with a Noisoi psychopomp. I do not feel comfortable with that thing. Servants of Pharasma, messengers of the dead. Not exactly the sort to be in mixed company with a necromancer, generally speaking.

Did I miss anything important? I think after my last entry was the library. Right, the library. I met Keisuke at the library. We had a chat. He told me he had something he wanted to talk to me about and gave me another free pass to come to the Nonagon when I had the time. I did so not long after saving Greta. He also confirmed that he had Nestian’s mother’s Eidolon, although he didn’t know it belonged to someone in Nestian’s family at the time of kidnapping her. He denied doing anything to Nestian’s mother, and he claimed she was in danger but the danger was more of her own making than his fault.

Nothing else important happened at the library. We killed the Crone Queen. Well, really Nestian killed the Crone Queen. The rest of us killed a bunch of banshees, and wraiths, and I made a bunch of fuckers worship me as a god. I also got a book Keisuke needed for something.

Anyways, after I saved Greta I told Nestian I had a plan to try to save his mother’s Eidolon from Keisuke. And I did—with the information I had at the time, which it turns out was woefully inadequate. I think it was a rather good plan for the information I had though. I was going to sneak Roscoe in invisible and have him get the Eidolon out while Greta and I took up Keisuke’s attention. I also made a crawling hand out of Jadrenka’s mother hand (oh we killed her again by the way) to track the Eidolon if I failed to save her and which would have a scroll of plane shift tied to it for the Eidolon to make use of. And if Keisuke caught them I’d just lie, claim some other necromancer must have stolen control of my pet from me and was trying to play us against each other, and that I’d never seen the crawling hand before—after all I don’t make a habit of creating such weak undead. I’d then back up the lie by destroying Roscoe and the hand with a flame strike—that would conveniently just barely miss the Eidolon and hopefully give her enough time to get out.

That is…not what happened. At all. Because the Nonagon that Greta and I arrived to was a very different one than the one I’d shared tea with Keisuke in and seen the recording of my Grimm Rider self in the weeks prior. There was something very wrong with the Nonagon this time. His recorded song played, first normal, then in a disturbing slowed down mockery of Keisuke’s voice. There were nine doors around the room. One in particular seemed to have a violently bright light coming from behind it. Keisuke implied that the Eidolon was behind that door. The light, blocked as it was, was painful to see. Opening the door to save the Eidolon just then would have been a fool’s errand. Doing it stealthily would have been impossible, and the light would very likely have done a great deal of harm. And that’s assuming she could even be removed from behind the door with the Nonagon in this state.

Keisuke told me to ask Nestian to ‘get his mother out of his walls’. Apparently, somehow, Nestian’s mother was causing some of the decay of the Nonagon. Although it was apparently also because Artrosa didn’t have a warden and the Nonagon was set up right on top of the Eon Pit.

Remember how I mentioned above that we killed Jadrenka’s mom and I cut off her hand to make that crawling hand?

Yeah. Oops.

So apparently the Eon Pit being fucked was tearing holes in space-time, which was spitting time dragons into the middle of Whitethrone. So that’s not exactly ideal.

Jadrenka had already made her way to Artrosa to see to things, and there’s a Crone Queen messing with the Eon Pit, so we’re going to have to go there eventually anyways. I’ll just have to see about fixing the Nonagon while I’m there.

Besides that, Keisuke also revealed a bit about what he’s been doing to me. And why he’s been called a thief by a number of people we’ve met. Apparently he’s learned a modified version of the simulacrum spell, which he can use to channel the abilities of other beings. But he can only make this connection with beings he’s done harm to. As we spoke he was working on creating a simulacrum of some fancy elven man whom I saw in a vision of Keisuke’s past after I gave him the book I’d procured from the library. The man was some sort of apprentice or something to the man who wrote the book. Keisuke had broken a glass and cut the man’s hand as he was moving to take his leave, feigning it being an accident. It was calculated. To hurt him.

To make creating this simulacrum possible.

I left Keisuke to his work, and looked around the Nonagon before taking my leave. I was looking for proof of one simulacrum in particular. Each door showed me a sort of vision. The first was some small thin box or device. I’m not really clear on what I was seeing. However what I did recognize is that the object had the number ‘999’ on its side. I don’t know what that means, beyond fitting with Keisuke’s nine motif.

The next number of doors all showed me visions of people who Keisuke killed. A goblin, a human alchemist, a human wizard, and finally what I was looking for. What I knew I would find but was hoping I would not.

A half-orc man, his heart being ripped out. A vision I’d seen previously in the Eon Pit, when I made the pocket watch mine.

Nestian’s father.

If Nestian chooses to fight Keisuke in the end, he will have to fight a shadow of his father as well. And we will have to fight all these fragments of warriors from Keisuke’s universe whose powers he pilfered. It is not an idea I’m keen on. It’s even more reason I’d prefer to keep things amicable between us and Keisuke, although I fear that it won’t turn out that way. Keisuke’s personality simply clashes with the others too severely, even disregarding the fact that he’s personally done things to harm Nestian’s family.

I’ll stand with my friends if it comes to that. I don’t want to fight Keisuke. But I can’t fight the others.

At one time I thought that if it came to a fight between the others and Keisuke, I would stay out of it, refuse to fight either side. Or throw some Oracle’s Vessels on both sides and heal whoever.

I don’t think that anymore. If the others fight Keisuke, I’ll stand with them. I won’t like it. I won’t take any pleasure in killing him. I might not even throw my most brutal spells at him. Better to die by fire or Destruction than having every bone in your body broken. But I will stand with the others if it comes to that. They’re more important to me than…whatever it is I want from Keisuke at this point. I don’t even know. It’s not like I need him to gain mythic power. I have a wish from Baba Yaga all lined up for that. And he’s said it himself that I’m likely more powerful than him at this point. So there’s nothing he can teach me, sans the simulacrum spell, which I have no real interest in pursuing. So what do I want from him? For him to see me rise to greater and greater heights, because he’s the only one who’s seen me at both my most powerless and most powerful? It’s true, there is a certain satisfaction to that. No one from my old life would understand the greatness of the power I wield in the way Keisuke does, and yet he also knew me when he first raised me in that cave, when I was powerless. I don’t remember it, but I know I must not have known how to use my magic back then—I didn’t even know I had latent magical abilities back when I died. The others, they’ve only known me while I’ve been remembering how to wield my power—the Grimm Rider’s power. I’ve had power and mysteries from the moment I met them.

I don’t know. I guess there’s something about someone knowing one of those other versions of myself. Calio Caecos the boy who died in the cave, who was raised to become The Grimm Rider, who died and became Calio Caecos again—but this time touched by power. A man who can bend titans to their knees and warp reality to his will. All of these were me. And yet each was in a way a death and rebirth. Quite literally on the death end of that.

The boy in the cave on his way to Irrisen following a feeling and looking for answers…back then I would have killed one of the others for a taste of power and immortality. Without question, without a second thought. What’s one life compared to all I could do with a hundred lifetimes immortal? What’s one life when it’s in the way of what I desire?

I don’t know what the Grimm Rider would have done. I still don’t remember my time under that title, and I will never get that time back. But given that I had continued relying solely on myself, from the moment I left Keisuke to the moment I orchestrated my own death to avoid a more permanent demise, I suspect my choice would have been much the same. And I’d have had the means to do it in that lifetime, too. Although I did give Cesseer that warning. I didn’t have to do that. I chose to do that, to help her. To give a woman enslaved by a dragon and looking to escape to the stars a chance. So maybe the Grimm Rider had some glimmer, some beginning spark, of what’s grown in me since then.

But I said it back when we saw Baba Yaga’s past. When we learned about her once-friendship with Vigliv, and the way she betrayed the Norn to protect her thread of fate and cement her power and immortality.

I’m not as strong as Baba Yaga. I wouldn’t be able to do that to my closest companions. Not even for immense amounts of power.

I didn’t expect to ever actually be faced with that choice. To actually have it dangled in front of me. It was a theoretical last time I wrote about it.

It isn’t this time.

But I’ll get to that in my next entry. I’m getting tired. Today fucking sucked. I’m rambling, and I think I’ve summarized enough of what we did. I can mention any other important things if they come up. I’m going to plane shift to Abbadon to get my fucking Baykok back (because a daemon plane shifted him there and I only just got the means to get him back. And I fucking hate the piece of shit demilich I took control of to replace him. I also took control of some elephants but those are not practical to take with us so they’re going to guard my demiplane. I have a demiplane now. It’s called Grimm Labyrinthus. I’ll get into it next entry.)

Regardless, good night.

[uneasedregrets]

@atimelesslullaby wanted a page from the Hero of Time's writings! ( still accepting! )

( hey fair warning this one is both dark and sad. I mean Time is generally sad but this one is actively sad. Warnings include: death mention and suicide implication, so if you're not in the headspace for that maybe don't click the read more. )

The following is a fragment that most scholars agree was written by the Hero of Time. The handwriting and diction match, though its curious separation from the rest of his claimed writing is a notable hang up. It was cataloged into the Hyrulean Royal Archives by that era’s Queen Zelda Elizabeth Hyrule, with an attached note: ‘For the me he saw all those years ago’. What was meant by this is a matter of debate, as the references made within the fragment do not line up with the historical Queen Zelda Elizabeth Hyrule the Hero of Time was known to spend the most time with. Contemporary journal entries make reference to finding it with the skeletal remains of the Hero of Time in the ‘cursed woods’, presumably modern-day Korok Forest.

The fragment appears to be part of a longer letter, though the parchment it was written on has not survived to the modern day as well as other documents. Attempts have been made to fill the gaps left behind, but for the purposes of this book we will replicate the manuscript while filling in individual words that seem obvious to most scholars. 

… I am sorry to have failed in the mission you sent me… to complete. My childhood was beyond [my] grasp. Navi had left… key to Kokiri Forest with [her]*. I searched for her [for] years, but she never returned. In my search I… matured heavily. Even if I could forget those months [awakening] the sages… haunts me too greatly†. Do people think of you as a hero? Only two people think me a hero for stopping him. No one else knows. A secret between us…

… knighted me, for stopping him and what she believes I did. The nobles didn’t like that. They shut up after I proved myself… army. I never grew close to her… we were. Impa is still with her. She… me, but [she] keeps… distance. Do the sages speak about me? None… in this era. Darunia and Ruto††… 

… Do you have a new hero? [I am] sure that you have… one. Not that you need one… capable on your own, with your…¶ training. In [my] nightmares, I see you… 

… Malon and I married… children. They reminded… us. Hope… minds, I taught them your lullaby… knows here. Epona passed away a few years ago. She’s buried… My last connection to what I experienced. Maybe that’s why I’m…

…I’ve prayed to the Goddess of [Time] to deliver this to you when I’m gone. If you ever read this, I’m already dead. I can’t tell you to remember me, but [I] can’t bear…

…I’m alone now… hoping… is painless…

…I want you to live for yourself. Do what’s best for you, Zelda. You made me…§

* What is meant here is a matter of debate. Navi we know from other sources was his fairy companion, though how that was in any way a ‘key’ to Kokiri Forest is a matter of speculation. Indeed, Kokiri seems to have first appeared in the writing of the Hero of Time. The modern day legendary koroks appear to have been named by one who was familiar with the Legend of the Hero of Time.

†This seems to reference his claim of time travel and adventures in Termina. Most scholars agree the phrase ‘what I saw in those years’ fits between sages and haunts, though we have no way of knowing for sure.

††This appears to reference the brief union between the Goron Chief Darunia and Zora Princess Ruto. Originally aimed at increasing the ties between Hyrule’s allies, the union eventually dissolved due to incompatibilities between the two. 

¶This is a particularly puzzling word. Most agree that this would refer to the training the daughters of the Hyrulean Royal Family undergo to awaken their magic. Some scholars, however, believe the word ‘Sheikah’ as the actual word. They point to Zelda’s caretaker in that era being implied to be a Sheikah, and the alter ego this Zelda he is writing to having claimed to be a Sheikah. Most dismiss this to be preposterous, as Sheikah are notoriously secretive when it comes to their techniques.

§This final word is a matter of furious debate. Some claim that, given what the Hero of Time claims this alternative version of Queen Zelda Elizabeth Hyrule did, it’s something negative such as ‘angry’ or ‘sad’. Others, using the whole fragment as context clues, suggest something more positive such as ‘happy’ or ‘complete’, as the tone of what survives is cordial. This line is also notable for gaining popularity in the centuries after its discovery in the Royal Archives; both in dirges and in romance. It is also referenced in several revenge tales.

[charlenasaxen]

“the consequences will be awful. Madness. Terror. I’ve seen it happen before. 16 can unravel your thoughts.”

“16 can make you doubt everything you see. 16 can make you doubt me.”

“I was appalled. This was a level of wickedness that I had never imagined.”

“what with one thing and another, now did not seem the time”

“How will you kill me?’ I asked.

‘You don’t want to know that,’ he said.

‘No. I suppose not.”

“Oh,’ said the Other. ‘Did you? That’s nice.’

‘It was nice,’ I agreed.

“Thank the House I had not told him! At worst it would have inclined him all the more to kill me.”

“if it were the Other’s sanity that was threatened by 16, I would not resort to killing him quite so quickly”

“Now hide Yourself!

Then I run swiftly and silently to a Wall”

“One shirt was a very nice cherry red colour. But they have all faded.”

“However my hair is a different matter. Over the years, as it has grown longer, I have interlaced it with pretty things: seashells, coral beads, pearls”

“I have placed my ornaments in the beautiful box with the octopus”

“When 16 returns to his own Halls, I shall put them back – I feel oddly naked without them”

“more efficient than indexing them straight away. After some time has passed it is easier to separate the important from the ephemeral.”

“I made another entry:

Prophecies concerning the coming of 16”

“Under the letter ‘I’, I wrote:

Italian, dishy, young”

“Ovenden, Stanley, student of Laurence Arne-Sayles: Journal no. 21”

“Outsider literature, see Fan fiction”

“Added to this was the writing itself. It was my handwriting – no doubt about that – but it was subtly different”

“There were nine of them. Just nine. I did not find twenty others that I had inexplicably overlooked.”

“If Journal no. 1 (my Journal no. 1) had originally been Journal no. 21”

“turned to page 154. There he was.”

“His most favoured students (the inner circle) went with him”

“During dinner Arne-Sayles talked about the other world (a place where architecture and oceans were muddled together)”

“Ten years later when Arne-Sayles was convicted of kidnapping another young man, the Italian police reopened the case”

“What meaning could words such as ‘Birmingham’ and ‘Perugia’ possibly have?”

“I have discovered that I am mad already! Or, if not mad now, then certainly I have been mad.”

“I felt a great pressure there as if a whole host of half-formed ideas were about to break through”

“I saw in front of me the Statue of the Faun, the Statue that I love above all others. There was his calm, faintly smiling face.”

“But today it seemed to mean something quite different: Hush! Be comforted!”

“climbed up on to his Plinth and flung Myself into his Arms”

“Safe in his embrace, I wept”

“I ate a little fish and drank some water. Then I revisited all my favourite Statues.”

“Their Beauty soothed me”

“Even now, as I write the words, I begin to feel anxious again. A crowd of images stirs in my mind – strange, nightmarish, but at the same time oddly familiar.”

“the fleeting image of towers and spires”

“The Prophet also tried to think of the name of the dishy young Italian but could not do so. Perhaps it was Maurizio Giussani.”

“Which means that twenty Journals (twenty!) are missing – a highly alarming thought!”

“I pictured Myself throwing all ten Journals and the Index into a raging Tide”

“if the House has made you forget, then it has done so for good reason”

“It does not matter that you do not understand the reason. You are the Beloved Child of the House. Be comforted.”

“I composed music on the flute that I made from the bone of a swan”

“This Hall contains the Statue of the Gorilla and I thought the sight of Him would lend me Strength”

“she wanted to go to university to study Death, Stars and Mathematics. Inexplicably the University of Manchester didn’t offer such a course.”

“part of her duties consisted of driving him wherever he wanted to go, including to Canal Street on Saturday nights to pick up young men”

“Arne-Sayles instructed her to quarrel with her parents. According to Angharad Scott, this was a test of loyalty.”

“with occasional splashes of blood-red”

“Moon/Wood contains very little speech and what there is is incomprehensible”

“The walls are lined with statues and puddles”

“According to the people who believe such things, this is a record of one of Arne-Sayles’s other worlds”

“these are in the same peculiar code as her last diary and remain impenetrable”

“Angharad Scott made several attempts to decipher it but got nowhere”

“This time D’Agostino refused.

She was never seen again.”

“Arne-Sayles’s career, always controversial, ended abruptly”

“Behind the wall – the fake wall – the police found a room in which was a young man, very ill and entirely incoherent”

“Arne-Sayles did not testify at his trial and never offered any explanation as to why he’d imprisoned James Ritter”

“Ritter was very good-looking. He worked as a model, a waiter, a barman, an actor and occasionally as a prostitute.”

“he had been at a different house, a house that contained statues and where many of the rooms were flooded by the sea”

“while he was in hospital he became very agitated, saying that he needed to go back to the minotaurs because the minotaurs would have his dinner”

“Certainly, Ritter’s description of the house is similar to the vast, empty rooms in Sylvia D’Agostino’s film”

“But in that case why was Ritter babbling about houses with seas in the basement?”

“it too was a vast building with great rooms and statues and staircases. The resemblance to the other house calmed him.”

“James Ritter was clearly the person who had eaten crisps and fish fingers.

This insight alone justifies my decision to continue reading my Journal!”

“occurs to me that there are many other ideas that I understand perfectly, even though no such things exist”

“It is from these things that I deduce the idea of a garden. I do not believe this happens by accident. This is how the House places new ideas”

“Do not be anxious, I tell Myself. It is the House. It is the House enlarging your understanding.”

“thirteen remain. This is the exact number of the Dead in my Halls. A coincidence?”

“It is impossible to say at this juncture how many of these people there are”

“… that he has done to me. How could I have been so stupid? I will die here.”

“This was the writing of a very angry and unhappy person. I wondered who it had been?”

“I passed some time (about half an hour I think) talking to it. I am LOSING MY MIND.”

“Before I forget why I HATE HIM”

“There it was again! A scent. A perfume of lemons, geranium leaves, hyacinths and narcissi”

“Yes, the scent was discernible here too. I traced the person’s path.”

“hints of cloves, blackcurrant and rose”

“No, this was someone new.

16 had come. 16 was here.”

“someone so wedded to Destruction and Madness, should wear a perfume so lovely, so redolent of Sunshine and Happiness”

“For an answer, the Other put two fingers to his head in imitation of a gun and made the sound: Boom!”

“Though it would be interesting to try. Tell you what. I’ll get a gun. That’ll make it easier, whichever of us has to do it.”

“I don’t know why I’m describing him to you. It’s not as if hordes of old men are going to start turning up.”

“I scattered scraps of fish to feed them. Two alighted on my shoulders. One pecked at my ear, hoping to discover if I was good to eat. It made me laugh.”

“I paused and examined Myself for signs of imminent madness”

“RETURN TO YOUR OWN HALLS, 16, AND REFLECT ON YOUR WICKEDNESS”

“I tried putting ‘your enemy’ but this seemed unnecessarily confrontational”

“The Stars blazed bright in all the Windows. The Thousand Statues, faintly lit by the Stars, looked out upon the Hall as if they blessed it.”

“The person was shouting: ‘Raphael! Raphael! I know you’re here!’

It was the Other.

“But as for 16 himself, I could see nothing of him. He was a mere blot behind the dazzle of the light.”

“I had told him to reflect on his wickedness. Was that what he was doing?”

“No one has ever written to me before”

“Part of me (a very foolish part) felt that it would almost be worth going mad in order to read the message”

“NED ME THAT YOU MAY BE SUFFERING”

“It is not the fact 16 is a woman that fascinates and excites me – or at least, not entirely; it is the fact that she is another human being”

“Everything keeps leading back to this one same person, Laurence Arne-Sayles”

“Unless I disappear myself, in which case, con”

“it was also persuadable. Nature was willing to bend to men’s desires.”

“men could turn into birds and fly away, or into foxes and hide in dark woods, castles could be made out of clouds”

“providing you had a physical link with a person who had once possessed them”

“(a head, but not one that belonged to Marepool I)”

“at one point he had seen the lips of Marepool III move but he had not heard any words”

“second, it left a hole, a door between this world”

“unsympathetic to my request to be allowed to stand in the garden for several hours performing an Ancient Celtic ritual”

“No matter. I discovered when they would be taking their holiday, returned at that time and ‘broke in’.”

“though now forced to share their beds with flowers of insufferable vulgarity”

“I no longer saw or felt the rain. I was standing in the clear, strong sunlight of early childhood. The colours of the roses were supernaturally bright.”

“the one into which everything forgotten flows. The edges of that door were frayed and worn by the passage of old ideas leaving this world.”

“A strange thundering – as of a sea – filled my ears …”

“I do not understand why this sentence is in the past tense. The World still speaks to me every day.”

“immediately discovered something Highly Alarming – a Conjunction of Four Tides in less than a week’s time!”

“Oh, fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! I muttered to Myself.”

“I’ll be fine,’ said the Other. ‘Will you be OK?”

“I knew that I would miss her if she had. Other than 16, there is only Myself and the Other in the World”

“(it may surprise you to read this) the Other is not always the best of company”

“PLEASE ABSENT YOURSELF FROM THESE HALLS AT THIS TIME OR YOU WILL BE IN DANGER”

“THEN CLIMB QUICKLY! THE STATUES ARE GRACIOUS AND WILL PROTECT YOU.”

“DAY OF THE FLOOD WILL BE THE FIRST DAY OF THE QUARTER MOON”

“a pure white colour with a beautiful, glowing translucency”

“but birds do not move a great number of stones for no reason”

“Too late I realised that the pebbles formed shapes. Words! Words made by 16!”

“Matthew Rose Sorensen …

An image rose up in front of me, like a memory or a vision.”

“everything smelt of rain, and metal, and staleness. This vision had a name and its name was …”

“But they were only Statues and they could not bring me water. They could only look down on me with Calm Nobility.”

“It’s a name associated with labyrinths. You don’t mind, do you? I’ll stop if you don’t like it.”

“It was delicious and refreshing (it had been a Cloud only hours before)”

“a man who transgressed against science, against reason and against law”

“If he really was some forgotten part of Myself, then he would not like to be contradicted; he would argue”

“He did not rise up from some shadowy recess of my mind. He remained an emptiness.”

“The circles that you find in the windmills of your mind”

“I had already been obliged to reallocate two pages from the letter P to accommodate them all”

“called on the University of Manchester to dismiss Arne-Sayles. (The university did not do so until 1997 when Arne-Sayles was arrested)”

“The last ten pages – the very pages that I wanted – were missing”

“The thirty-two pages with information about Ketterley were gone”

“But if I had torn out the pages, what had happened to them? Where had they gone?”

“Quickly – almost feverishly – I began to put the pieces together”

“The longest entry was titled: The events of 15 November 2012”

“When I got to his house I heard music playing. A requiem.”

“somehow intensified; inside the house there was a smell of rain, clouds and air, a smell of limitless space. A smell of the sea.”

“Well, quite. People still think I must have known about his crimes. I didn’t.”

“God, no! Not for twenty years.”

“He’s just perverse. If someone says white, he’ll say black.”

“how they are received by the various disciplines – religion, art, literature, science, mathematics and so forth”

“He wrote about magic and pretended it was science.”

“Of course I object to the fucking word,”

“And then he demolished you. His theories weren’t just smoke and mirrors. Far from it. He’d thought everything through.”

“And she did. She did it because Laurence instructed her to do it and because Laurence was the great magus.”

“He did it because he could. He did it to cause anguish for her.”

“A vision of cosmic grandeur. A symbol of the mingled glory and horror of existence. No one gets out alive.”

“But he made it clear that this was a concession to our lack of ability.”

“this is quite hard to admit – but yes, I did see it once. I mean I thought I saw it once.”

“Oh, I see,’ he said. ‘So you’ve told lots of people that you were coming here today.”

“Oh! Oh, OK. Sure. Why not?’ I said. I stood up. ‘I don’t have to take any drugs, do I?”

“You know. When you get to the labyrinth.’

He had an odd sense of humour.

“I feel a sort of terror descend on me. I know now what is coming.”

“that was the point at which I realised that he was lying. The candle had stood in that precise spot many, many times and he had performed this ritual over and over again.”

“He still believed. He still thought he could reach the other world.”

“he began to chant in a language I’d never heard before”

“He chanted with conviction, with fervour”

“It was as if the world had somehow just stopped.”

“My eyelids were still closed but I could tell that the quality of the darkness had changed”

“There was a sound of vast emptiness, and all around me waves were hitting walls with a dull thud”

“The walls of a vast room rose up around me. Statues of minotaurs loomed.”

“He was looking at me and smiling as if I was an experiment that had gone surprisingly well”

“I really am delighted to see you. A young, healthy man is just what I wanted.”

“He began to laugh.

And he laughed, and laughed, and laughed.”

“I was mistaken. The Other is not my friend. He has never been my friend. He is my enemy.”

“He called me Piranesi so he would not need to use the name Matthew Rose Sorensen.”

“when he did that he was walking away into the Other World”

“HE TRICKED MATTHEW ROSE SORENSEN INTO COMING INTO THIS WORLD”

“I could have climbed up to a High Place, safe from the Waters and I could have watched him Destroyed”

“I will deceive him as he has deceived me. I will say I made a mistake about the Flood.”

“I will snatch him and bind him with fishing nets. With these hands I will do it!”

“For two days he will be bound. He will be in torment, knowing the Flood is coming.”

“Perhaps I will give him water to drink. Perhaps I will not. Perhaps I will say to him: ‘Soon you will have plenty of Water!”

“he will scream and scream. And I will laugh and laugh. I will laugh as long and as loud as he laughed”

“And always I could have saved him, but I never did”

“My eyes and throat were sore with weeping and shouting”

“from time to time a sob or cry would escape my lips – a little sound of desolation”

“Perhaps the Other had taunted him. Matthew Rose Sorensen had torn into pieces the description of his enslavement”

“he had scattered the pieces in the Eighty-Eighth Western Hall. Then the House in its Mercy had caused him to fall asleep – and it had placed him inside me.”

“Hush now! I said, Do not be afraid. You are safe. Go back to sleep. I will take care of us both.”

“Neither he nor I had ever been mad”

“This too referred to Ketterley. 16 was saying that Ketterley knew that she had arrived.”

“Because she was looking for Matthew Rose Sorensen. Because she wanted to rescue him.”

“Tears sprang into my eyes at the thought. My only friend and I had hidden from her!”

“I am here! I am here!’ I shouted to the Empty Air. ‘Come back! I will hide no longer!”

“It would have taken a long time to arrange those pebbles. 16 was patient, resolute and ingenious. 16 was still looking for me.”

“The rooks made a fuss at my approach. Yes, yes. I am glad to see you too, I told them.”

“The Other. The Other had done this. I was quite sure of it.”

“Perhaps he had already done it. 16 was in danger.”

“My thoughts return constantly to her and her safety, yet I cannot think of anything else I can do to protect her”

“all the Dead stand in the Path of the Flood Waters. I began the work of carrying them to safety.”

“I left the Folded-Up Child snuggled in a blanket because I wanted her to feel safe in an unfamiliar Place”

“I had not forgotten the albatross chick (now a very large bird!)”

“The albatrosses consider me a friend, but I did not think they would allow me to carry their chick”

“and in any struggle between us they would surely win!”

“since my Journals and Index are almost as dear to me as my Life”

“it became a long flat shape, which was pointed at both ends. It was a boat.”

“I could throw it into the Tides.

I replaced the Gun in the bag and did up the closures.”

“It was a quarter to eight.

My most important task was to find 16 and ensure her safety.”

“the first Tide was already ascending”

“Suddenly I had a mental image of both 16 and Myself hiding in the First Western Hall, both waiting for the other one to appear”

“no nonsense from you, all right? Because I swear, Piranesi, I’ve just about had enough from everyone.”

“When I got to his house I heard music playing,’ I said. ‘A requiem. I waited for him.”

He froze at the sound of his own name. “What are you talking about?’ he asked again in a voice made hoarse with fear.

“You asked me once if I remembered Battersea. And now I do.”

“Really, Matthew, how stupid do you think I am?”

“He dived suddenly to the right, towards the Gun. But I had chosen my position with care and I was nearer to it.”

“I gave it a good, sharp kick with my foot. It skittered across the marble.”

“at that moment a voice was heard. ‘Ketterley!’ it cried. A woman’s voice. 16 was here!”

“As I ran, I shouted: ‘A Flood is coming! We must climb!”

“she understood the urgency in my voice. I seized her hand. Together we ran towards the Eastern Wall.”

“the Statue of a Father seated with his little Son in his Arms”

“he had run to the Northern Wall to retrieve his Gun. He was firing at us.”

“He fired again, hitting a Statue above our heads. I felt a sharp pain.”

“presumably with the idea of firing his Gun at us more effectively”

“Her eyes were wide with apprehension. I held out my arms. She jumped. I caught her.”

“As he struggled, he seemed to grow heavier; the boat by contrast grew lighter, freer. It danced on the Waters.”

“The Other kept changing direction to follow it, but by the time he had taken a few arduous steps, the boat was somewhere else entirely”

“But he could not hear me above the Sound of the Waters pouring into the Hall. He continued to wade desperately, uselessly, after the boat.”

“Spray as high as the Ceiling exploded through all the Northern Doors. The Spray caught the Sun; diamonds into the Hall.”

“He crashed into the Statues. I imagine that that was when he died.”

“The Wave drew back; he disappeared into it.

Meanwhile the little inflatable boat whirled about. If he could only have reached it, it would have saved him.”

“Waves crashed against the Southern Wall; explosions of white Spray”

“We were drenched, we were numbed, we were blinded, we were deafened; but always we were saved”

“We could not return the way we had come since that would involve a leap upwards”

“My hair – which is dark and curly – was as full of droplets as a Cloud. I rained every time I moved.”

“The birds found us there. Many different kinds – herring gulls, rooks, blackbirds and sparrows – gathered on the Statues and Banisters and chattered at me”

“I mean we can go to my house and get dry. And then I can take you home.”

“I am home,” I said

“It’s usually a lot drier than this,’ I said quickly in case she was thinking that my Home was inhospitable and damp.

“I don’t know if you remember this, but you have a mum and a dad. And two sisters. And friends.”

“They’ve been looking for you. They’ve been worried about you.”

“They’ve felt pain because they didn’t know where you were.”

“All that is true. But I haven’t got his mind and I haven’t got his memories.”

“He is here.’ I touched my breast. ‘But I think he’s asleep. He’s fine. You mustn’t worry about him.”

“come with me to Matthew Rose Sorensen’s parents and sisters – to let them see his face again? It would help them a lot to know he is alive.”

Raphael’s dark eyes were wide with astonishment. ‘My God! Are they all right?”

“Certainly the Proph … Certainly Laurence Arne-Sayles thought so.”

“Oh, they don’t say much really. They’re all dead.’

‘Dead!’

‘Yes.’

‘Oh!”

“I said there are thirteen Dead, but that is incorrect. Dr Ketterley has joined their number. I must find his body and make him ready to lie with the others.”

“She put out her hand and rather awkwardly – but also gently – put her hand on my shoulder”

“to my huge embarrassment, I started crying. Great creaking sobs rose up in my chest”

“It doesn’t matter how late it is. I’ll wait until you come.”

“My last thought before I fell asleep was: He is dead. My only friend. My only enemy.”

“Then you will be a handsome skull and handsome bones. I will put you in good order and you can rest in the Sunlight.”

“I am sorry that I was angry with you. Forgive me.”

“first mocking Dr Ketterley and then abandoning him”

“that he is unconscious but perfectly safe, and that I am a strong and resourceful person who will care for him”

“You spoke to him?’ she asked in a tone of incredulity.

‘Yes.’

‘He came here?”

“it was as though a principle of Death had been replaced with a principle of Life”

It spoke with Laurence Arne-Sayles’s haughty, drawling voice: ‘You think that all my talk about other worlds is irrelevant.”

“You mean do we perform them on the edge of a precipice and he just fell off?”

“Yes. And you are going to do it for the exact same reason that Rose Sorensen did it. He wanted to understand my thinking. You want to understand his.”

“I thought he meant metaphorical paths. It was a bit of a shock when it turned out he didn’t.”

“Matthew Rose Sorensen was shocked when he first arrived. Shocked and frightened. And then he fell asleep and I was born.”

“I do not see why you say I can only see a representation in this World,’ I said with some sharpness.”

“As many as seventy?’ I asked, deliberately choosing a high, rather improbable number.

“It’s the way you raise your eyebrow at me. That dubious, rather imperious look. You look like Matthew Rose Sorensen.”

“How do you know that there are more than seventy people?’ I asked. ‘Have you counted them yourself?”

“I don’t want to trick you. You must only come if you want to.”

“if I stay here will you come back and visit me?”

“Of course.”

“For as long as I can remember I have wanted to show the House to someone”

“the Statue of a Winged Horse and its Colt”

“Today all my imaginings came true. The Sixteenth Person and I walked together through the House and I showed her many things.”

“Raphael looked relaxed and happy. (I was happy too.) With every step Raphael was looking around with pleasure and admiration.”

“But I was pleased that she had asked the question. It showed that she regarded the House as I did.”

“We don’t know who they are,’ she said. ‘Poor things.”

“go back to thinking of them the way I always had before – as good, and noble, and peaceful”

“If I leave, then the House will have no Inhabitant and how will I bear the thought of it Empty?”

“I will know that I am alone.

And so for this reason I have decided to go with Raphael.”

[vinceleemiller]

On The Run But Not Alone | 1 Samuel 21

Are you lonely, like David, a "man on the run"?

Welcome to the Daily Devo. I am Vince Miller.

Remember, tomorrow, we will air a new episode of The Vince Miller Show entitled "Beliefs That Hold You Back." If you have Video Access on our website, this episode is already available; if not, wait until tomorrow. Be in prayer for this Show. We have invested a lot of time and money into this effort, and we hope this will reach out in a new way so others will be able to hear the Gospel.

This week, here in the Daily Devo, we are in 1 Samuel 21. I've titled this chapter "Man On The Run."

David will be on the run for a long time, approximately 12-15 years. In the last chapter, he ran to Naioth in Ramah to Samuel and then back to the rocks in Gibeah. In this chapter, he will run to Nob (the location of the Tabernacle) and then to Gath (the home of Goliath). There will be many more locations, 16 in all, that we will list in the coming chapters (i.e., the Cave of Adullam, the king of Moab at Mizpeh, "the stronghold" maybe Masada, the forest of Hereth, Keilah, the wilderness of Ziph, the wilderness of Maon, strongholds of Engedi, "the stronghold" maybe Masada again, the wilderness of Paran, and the finally back to Achish, the king of Gath.)

So, I will not give you a key verse for this chapter this week. (If I did, I would pick 1 Samuel 21:4.)

Instead, I will share a private excerpt from David's journal during this emotional time, which reveals a lot about what is going on in his mind.

But first, I want you to imagine how lonely David felt in these moments. He has been separated from his family and will never speak to his biological father ever again. His father-in-law (King Saul) wants to kill him and has given a charge to the Israelite army to hunt him down. His wife (Michal) and best friend (Jonathan) cannot communicate with him. He cannot take refuge in Samuel in the Naioth at Ramah. David is a fugitive, a man on the run. At the end of this chapter, David hides in Gath, which is in Philistia, the enemy of Israel, and acts like a madman here to preserve his life from King Saul. There could be no more lonely moment for David.

However, during this chapter, David made two journal entries, Psalms 34 and 56. And I want to read a portion of Psalm 34 for you today so you can see what David is thinking.

The title of this Psalm in your Bible might say:

"Of David, when he changed his behavior before Abimelech, so that he drove him out, and he went away."

The name "Abimelech" is a title like "President" or "King," and the man this refers to is named Achish, or "Abimelech Achish" who is the focus of 1 Samuel 21:10-15. Here is what he writes.

I will bless the Lord at all times; his praise shall continually be in my mouth. My soul makes its boast in the Lord; let the humble hear and be glad. Oh, magnify the Lord with me, and let us exalt his name together! — Psalm 34:1-3

The eyes of the Lord are toward the righteous and his ears toward their cry. The face of the Lord is against those who do evil, to cut off the memory of them from the earth. When the righteous cry for help, the Lord hears and delivers them out of all their troubles. The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit.

Many are the afflictions of the righteous, but the Lord delivers him out of them all. He keeps all his bones; not one of them is broken. Affliction will slay the wicked, and those who hate the righteous will be condemned. The Lord redeems the life of his servants; none of those who take refuge in him will be condemned. — Psalm 34:15-22

Even though David is alone and a man on the run, he knows he is never alone. And some of you need to hear this today. If God is with you, you are never alone. David preached, journaled, wrote, and sang this truth to his heart, mind, and soul. He put his hand to paper, his lip to song, his heart to prayer in those lonely moments in the enemy land, pretending to be a madman to stay alive as God's anointed, and God was with him.

In lonely moments, never forget that with God, you are never alone. Preach this truth to your soul. Sing about it. Read about it. Write about it. Believe it. God is a deliverer. He is near, not far.

And don't forget that during these years, God slowly built an army of hundreds of men around David who followed him from the Struggling Fugitive Years to the Soldiering Fighting Years.

#NeverAlone, #FaithInTheWilderness, #GodWithUs

Ask This:

When have you felt most alone, and how did you remind yourself of God's presence during that time?

Like David, how can you preach truth to your soul in moments of fear or loneliness? What practical steps can you take today?

Do This:

Preach to your soul, "I am not alone, God is with me."

Pray This:

Lord, in my moments of loneliness, help me to remember that You are always with me, even when I feel abandoned. Give me the strength to trust in Your presence and to find refuge in Your unfailing love. Amen.

Play This:

I Am Not Alone.

Check out this episode!

[jodilin65]

TUESDAY, AUGUST 30, 1994 Boy, I can’t believe how many entries start off with “I’m in a great mood” since I’ve been here, but it’s true. One of the reasons I’m in a great mood now is cuz I got my period. The other’s cuz I’m only on Phase 2, but yet it’s a miracle already. I’m nowhere near as tight or as wheezy as I am in the mornings or at the end of my day.

Yesterday I rearranged all the photo albums. It took a few hours, but it was fun and well worth it.

Yesterday my back sure was killing me, my boobs were killing me and I had a ton of water retaining in me.

Yesterday I got an 11-page letter from Bob, but none from my mom yet.

Last night I checked Andy’s VM, he had 57 messages. I was asleep when he came in to get his tapes, so I know he made it in OK last night. I haven’t talked to him yet, though.

Still no calls from Fran. Great, huh? I don’t know if it’s cuz he’s lost his phone, or what, but I certainly don’t miss putting up with him.

Tom’s working on installing new stuff on the computer and he’s having fun with it. Later we’ll do the thank-you cards and work on the new cooler.

SUNDAY, AUGUST 28, 1994 Boy, have I got my work cut out for me! I still haven’t gotten my mom’s letter yet, but I began a letter to my parents a little while ago.

Tomorrow I’ll have been here one whole year!!!!

Andy’s got 47 messages on his VM and he’s going to have more later.

Tom downloaded some new fonts from America online before he went to work. He told me to go through them and write down the ones I didn’t like. There were only two I didn’t really like that were samples and some of them looked the same but had different names. I really like Old English and St. Frances.

Tom’s going to show me how to make word search puzzles soon. Supposedly it’s really easy. All you do is size it, tell it what words you want to seek out, and it’ll scramble it into a word search puzzle.

The C drive crashed, so Tom had to transfer what was on there to another drive. This is why I’m glad my journals are on the B drive, as the stuff is not stored on a main drive. It goes on a floppy disk.

Shall I do another book of letters? I’m thinking about it and if I do, I’ll use 79. Got a letter from Kim yesterday, thanking me for all those Bob letters. She said she read them all in just two sittings. Wow. I thought it’d take her 20 sittings.

Tom got a book on how to make your own books, pamphlets, boxes, etc.

Yesterday he worked a lot on the cooler, making major progress with it, and I helped.

Yesterday we also went out and I got two bras. Haven’t got new underwear yet.

I got a triad optical illusion book to color. It’s a lot like the one Kim gave me in Deerfield that I’ve been looking all over for.

Also got 3 new really nice journals. Now I have a total of 81!

Sex with Tom and I have been so much better. In fact, we broke another record. He came this morning! I’m sure he’d never lie about it, but it was a mild one where nothing really came out. He said it felt really good like he was cumming, then it instantly got soft. Women sometimes have very light orgasms, so it’s possible for a guy too, I’d guess.

I wrote up the messages for the thank-you cards for Margaret, Geneva, Char and Jim and Goldie and Al.

FRIDAY, AUGUST 26, 1994 Got another shocker in the mail today. A wedding card and check for $50 from Goldie and Al. It makes me wonder who else will shock me.

It’s kind of sad to know, though, that if we had a kid, no one from my side would send even a card. Oh well, as long as Tom and I are happy. That’s what really matters. Tom said that if we did have a kid, I’d have nothing to worry about. Yeah maybe, cuz Tom’s right about most things and my parents have been known to shock me in the past. They’ve surprised me over the last few years.

As of yet, I don’t expect to hear from any aunts, uncles or cousins, but that’s their choice.

Our new color-splash address labels came. They’re really nice and there are 5 different colors - pink, blue, green, peach and yellow. I put some in journals.

Later…

Tom got up at 5:30 and we made pork chops and French fries. Then he ate me out and worked on the computer before showering and going to work.

I lay out for nearly an hour and I did get a little color. It’s pretty hot out there, but the strangest thing about it was, was that I didn’t see one bee. Fine with me, though.

I just checked and Andy’s got 35 new messages and 4 saved ones. A co-worker of his has also left several messages. I never really knew just how many minutes you could use up on VM, but I know it’s a hell of a lot more than on a regular answering machine.

I really hope to get my mother’s letter today, but in the meantime, I sent Kim and Bob’s. Weekends are when I’m the busiest, so I may mail their letters every Friday, instead of every Monday. When I’d send them on Mondays, they’d usually get them on Thursdays. If I sent it on a Friday, they’ll probably get it on Tuesday. Tom says maybe even Monday. It’s weird how it only takes 2 days for me to get mail from MA or CT, but if I send mail there, it usually takes 4 days. It’s 4 days back and forth to FL seemingly, too.

I did some singing a little while ago. It started off a little strained, then not too bad at all.

It’s been really quiet around here lately. I love it. May God please keep it that way!

Well, I’ve really been into word search puzzles lately, so I think I’ll go do that and I’ll write more later.

Later…

Bummer! No letter from my mom. I got all junk mail today.

Tammy got her figurine in one piece. Thank God. I hope my parents are as lucky and get theirs in one piece, too.

THURSDAY, AUGUST 25, 1994 Last Tuesday Tom trimmed my hair! Yup, he sure did, believe it or not, and he did a great job. He trimmed off about an inch. Now I can really be on my way to healthy hair by having him trim it regularly. No more worrying about some hairdresser suddenly going scissor-happy and taking off a foot or more.

Yesterday I called and told Ma all about CD ROM which we finally got, but I’ll get to that later. She asked if we’d gotten anything for our wedding from anyone she knows. She also commented on the thank you card that we sent them saying that that’d be nice to send to anyone that sends us anything.

At first I thought that it was kind of strange of her to bring that up since the wedding was almost 3 months ago. Then, the mail came and then I knew why she was bringing it up. Can you believe we got a card and check for $50 from Charlotte and Jim R?! This sure caught me off guard and came as a huge surprise, but at the time, it’s a bummer to know no one would send us shit if we were expecting a kid. Ma’s bad-mouthed the shit out of me to so many people for so long, that in their eyes, I could never be fit to be mother material.

I typed them a quick letter on all that’s been going on since I came here and when Tom gets up I’ll see if he can print out a thank you card with our wedding pictures on it. I don’t want to wait on this, though, so if I have to, I’ll just send the letter.

He’s been so busy. He hasn’t yet done up thank you cards for his mom’s two sisters, the 3-D postcards for Dave and Evie, Lisa’s letter, or my letter.

Anyway, Tom got up at 5 AM yesterday to show me CD ROM. It’s amazing! I mean, it is just so cool and it’s a tangible thing that shows me that my dream may still be achievable after all. It’ll take time and work, but it’s like having a quality home recording studio. It has a karaoke thing in it and you can record on different tracks just like they do in studios and on and on. It does lots of different things. We can’t make CDs yet cuz what we’d need to do it with costs a couple of grand. However, the prices will come down, but for now, we can go through the steps that come before the actual making of a CD.

I never thought in my wildest dreams that I could share my dream with the one I love, while we combine both our goals and dreams. While he’s promoting my singing, he can promote his programming and other things he does. I picked out some music to start with and he’s putting it into the computer without having to play it. Then somehow I’ll sing to the music and he’ll mix and arrange it to however it sounds best.

Yesterday for the first time in what seems and feels like ages, we had great sex. And I mean, great sex. We always say we’ll keep up on it regularly, but never do cuz of life’s unexpected happenings, but I hope that’ll change. I sure got my cake and ate it too, as he went down there and ate me out, as well as went in there. There was no pain or pressure at all. Especially when we do it on the living room couch. That’s a lot easier than the bed.

Ma said she mailed the letter she wrote to me, so I hope I get that today. I wonder what she has to say. I guess the usual everyday stuff.

TUESDAY, AUGUST 23, 1994 I sure thought I was going to puke a while ago! My heart was booming too, but after laying down I felt better.

Again I didn’t sleep too long. Maybe 5 for hours. I figure, though, my body wouldn’t have woken up if it were that tired. The bad thing about it is, is that it shoots my whole day with Tom. I’ve been up since 8 PM.

Yesterday when I woke up, I had gone the longest I’d ever gone without my meds. I was 6 hours overdue on it. I woke up very wheezy and was scared, even though I knew I wasn’t in any real trouble. I thought it would take a couple of hours, though, to get it under control, so I asked Tom to please leave as I didn’t want him to have to deal with it too. He said he’d rather stay to take care of me, closed his eyes, put his hands on my chest and it stopped. It just suddenly stopped. It was amazing.

Later…

Yuck! Gross! I threw up a little while ago. Luckily it wasn’t that bad. Tom heard me and came out nauseous, too. He didn’t throw up, though, which was nice. His is due to too much acid in his stomach and we think I fried the wrong foods. I fried fish sticks from a TV dinner and he suggested that it could be processed differently and not for fryers. Plus, there were no frying instructions on the box for frying.

Hang on while I go brush my teeth.

Later…

OK, that’s much better. Tom went back to bed. I feel much better and I can breathe OK and I’m not too tired.

Tom said not to worry about us losing time together cuz it’ll all work out. Well, his encouragement does help.

I think I’ve been going about the Phase-Out wrong. I’m supposed to draw on the cigarette before the holes and not cover them up with my lips. This way the hot air inside the cig mixes with the cooler air outside the cig to create condensation to trap the tar, nicotine, and carbon monoxide before they can get into my lungs.

I noticed stretch marks on the tops and sides of my breasts and asked Tom why it was so when I’ve never lost 40-50 pounds of “boob weight.” He said it’s cuz I never wear a bra, but not to worry about it. Well, I’m not worried, but I thought about it. I’m wearing a bra now, as support for any part of the body’s good just like when I wear the tummy/back supporter. It also helps relieve the soreness I get before that time of the month. I need new panties, so maybe sometime I can get matching bra/panty sets.

MONDAY, AUGUST 22, 1994 I taped the Barbara Streisand concert for my parents. I also typed a letter for Bob, so I’ve got letters going out to him, Kim, Lisa and Brian. I’m too tired to write anymore right now, but I will in an hour or so.

Later…

I just worked out a little while ago. The next time I work out two days from now, I’ll be adding the fourth and final weight. It’s pretty heavy now.

I spoke to Tammy, too.

When I showed Tom the thing I typed up which I copied in, he said he needs to work on communicating himself better to me. When I asked him if he was mad about it, he said no cuz he’d never be mad at me for expressing my feelings. Other than that, things are fine. He was in a good mood last night and this morning. I was, too. He grabbed my butt and squeezed it this morning and said he hopes we can have sex soon. Me too. I just get frustrated at times cuz of what I wrote before. I also want it practically all the time. I never thought I’d be like that and I wish at times that I didn’t have such an appetite.

He said he could feel my hipbone, unlike ever before. That’s cool, but I still wish my thighs and belly would go down. I still have some craters in the backs of my thighs too, and I weigh 102.

I cleaned Tom’s ears with peroxide and alcohol. The concoction Brenda taught me.

Piggles and I went for a swim earlier while Tom was in the shower.

Tom said that within a couple of days, he’s going to type up a response to all I typed up. He said don’t worry, though, it was all good stuff and he’s already thought about what he’s going to say. That’s cool and I’ll copy it in here.

I killed a huge daddy-long leg that was in my room by my speaker. I sang. I changed the sheets. I set the VCR up to record Andy’s shows, and that’s about all for now.

I hope I get the letter Ma said she did for me, but I doubt I’ll get it until later this week.

Where the fuck is our wedding pictures?! Tomorrow Tom and I will have to call them in Vegas and see where the hell they are.

Tomorrow we’re going to the post office to mail my parent’s tape of Barbara. Also, the figurines for my parent’s anniversary and Tammy’s b-day.

I may get my hair trimmed, too. It really needs it.

SUNDAY, AUGUST 21, 1994 Yesterday I was up for nearly 20 hours and when I fell asleep it was only for 5½ hours, so I’m pretty beat.

I got a letter from Lisa which I copied into 35. It’s so sweet, and she sent Tom one, too. I’ve written her back and Tom says he’s going to write her back.

Later…

It is now only 12:33 AM, but I will be copying this into my journal as is, after Tom reads what I’m going to type here. Why am I doing this? Well, I think it’s something that can help me and Tom. This way Tom can read what I write about my feelings so he won’t have to say to himself, “Now how did she word that?” or “What did she say she thinks or feels about this or that?” Sometimes it’s easier to keep track of written words, rather than spoken words. It’s kind of like what a grocery list does. You have a damn good idea of what you need, but a list allows you to always see it, so you’ll be sure to remember and better understand it. I won’t do this regularly. Only when there are things going on that are confusing.

Do I expect Tom to do this, too? No. Only if he wants to cuz I don’t want him to ever do something he may not want to do. Also, I understand that he has little time to do this and that writing and typing are more my things than his.

OK, there are 3 issues that have me somewhat or very confused as far as what Tom and I want and agree on. Other than that, I am very happy with my life and know I’m the luckiest son of a bitch alive and that Tom’s one in millions. The 3 topics I will write about are sex, having a kid, and company.

When I discuss all these topics I’ll be saying how I feel about them. Both the ups and downs on them, etc. I’m also going to say what I think Tom feels, but I fully understand that I could be wrong. Therefore, after he reads this, I hope he’ll correct me with the things that are wrong, so I’ll learn more about him and understand him better.

Sex…

I have mixed emotions about this, just like the other two subjects. I want to do it almost every day, yet I also want to never do it again. Right now I feel like the only thing that’s good about it is when he licks me. The thing I feel that greatly improved is his getting in there. It’s getting easier and easier and much less painful. But how do I think I make him feel? Like shit, if not close. It’s been about a year now and he still can’t cum. Does this make me feel confident and normal? No. What’s confusing me about it? Well, he says he doesn’t want to hit on me for sex. I feel the same way cuz I don’t want to make him think that we can only have sex when I want it. He says he wants to be spontaneous, but he also says stuff like, we’ll do it tomorrow or at such and such a time. He says when he lays down with me it could very well be a signal. But how do I know that? How do I know that he doesn’t just want to talk? If not, who makes the first move? Should I ever make a move when I’m almost positive he’s too tired, or should I wait and see if he does? If one of us wants to do one thing and the other wants to do another, should we both do what we want? Or should only one of us? And if only one of us, then who? When’s the right time during sex to suggest that I do certain things to him or that he do certain things to me? When should he just do whatever and when should I just do whatever without saying anything about it? If he goes to do something to me that I don’t feel like doing, should I tell him not to do it, or should I let him do it if it makes him happy? Should I ask him, for example, if when I’m doing him by hand if it’s too light or too hard? Or should I just let him let me know? Another thing is that I feel that he thinks that I think sex should only please me and that’s far from true, otherwise I wouldn’t care that he hasn’t cum and want to know what he likes. And doesn’t like, for that matter. Another thing, for example, is that he’s told me he couldn't care less about my hair, meaning he doesn’t care if it’s long, short, braided, etc. but is there something else he may care about that may arouse him? Anything, no matter how common or unique, like red lipstick, a blue G-string, or a black shirt? Does this make me wish Tom could magically turn into a woman when we go to have sex? Not at all, cuz sex is sex, regardless of what gender you do it with and it’s complicated with anyone. Plus, sex is more about whom you do it with, not what you do it with. That’s at least how I see it.

Well, that’s all my questions and feelings about that.

Having a kid…

This one’s the most complicated of all, cuz there’s so much more to it. Sometimes I think Tom wants a kid, sometimes I think he doesn’t. I think that’s normal, though, cuz I feel the same way. When I feel sick or tired, I’m glad I don’t have one. Or when Tom’s too busy working his ass off with little free time at all for even us. He said he wasn’t glad he didn’t have a kid and said he was concerned about what my reaction would be if we found out I was pregnant, but then just the other day, he mentioned using rubbers cuz he didn’t want one now or in 9 months. I can see him not wanting one now, but I thought he doesn’t usually get in the habit of trying to predict what he’d want in 9 months from now. So do I not avoid fate and the possibility of getting pregnant? Or do we rubber it up? I don’t know why Tom would or would not want a kid, but here are the pros and cons I came up with after thinking about it:

Cons:

Fear of miscarriage and the pregnancy killing me.

Fear of the pain and dying in labor or delivery.

Fear of losing Tom cuz I’d be a bitch carrying it and fear of losing him during having it and after cuz of the stress of it, lack of sleep and me being so fat.

Fear of the kid coming in between us and making us fight more.

Fear of us not having any time together.

Fear of postpartum blues and being a sexual turn-off.

Fear of lack of sleep.

Fear of losing our lives and not being able to afford it.

I don’t know anything about raising or caring for kids.

Pros:

A life and a responsibility to take care of and teach and watch grow with Tom and when I’m home alone bored.

Despite the fears I’d have, the curiosity of having a life growing inside me and having it.

A great learning experience for me.

The sense of knowing there’s someone I can take care of, instead of someone always taking care of me.

Instead of listening to and doing for other people’s kids, I could listen to and do stuff for my own.

Playing with it and learning different things as far as caring for it step by step with each year and its different ages.

Hoping and praying that I’d be the best mom I could be and breaking people’s beliefs that I’d be just like my mom (though I don’t worry what others think that much).

A human thing created with the one I love, rather than an object that’s ours like the computer or the TV.

Being there for it when it’s sick, sad, or makes a major accomplishment in life, be it personal or something it’s learned.

That concludes that one, but I still feel I’m sterile only cuz it’s hard to believe otherwise. It’s like with me being in Arizona. I never ever believed that could happen and it still blows my mind.

Company…

This is the least confusing one. We’ve recently done our share of talking about this, but there are still a few more baffling things about it.

First of all, here’s the #1 important thing I can say for both of us. I know Tom would never play daddy and tell me I can’t go somewhere, or do something or see someone. I love him for that. My thing is that I’d never leave without at least a day’s notice or several hours or if there was something going on where my attention was demanded here at home. The only time I’d suddenly leave would be if Tom was asleep or working and I know I could be back in time for him to be around (or very close enough). Or for example, if Andy or Larry called while Tom was sitting right there and they asked if I wanted to go somewhere and Tom said, “Sure. No problem. There’s nothing going on right now that can’t wait or immediately needs your attention.”

Tom’s made it sound like I’ve had lots of company since we’ve been married, but I counted since we’ve been together. Before there was that piece of paper, there was us, and we’ve been together for about a year. Here’s how I see my visitor track record. I won’t count Andy cuz he’s local and there’s never been a problem with Andy that I’ve known of. He’s never taken our time or taken me away from something important.

Kim, Phil and Alex were here for 3 days and Larry was here twice. Out of 1 year, I’ve been around here at the house 98% of the time as far as I see it. I asked Tom if he was jealous and he said no. Now, I’m sure Tom would come out and say it if he was, but I still get the feeling that he might be cuz of certain comments he makes, like, “Nobody takes me places.” Here’s an example. I’ll make up to further explain why I thought he was jealous. Let’s make pretend Andy’s here and he’s at work and he knows Andy’s here. Tom feels left out and then in a way takes that “left out” feeling out on me. Well, I hope he knows that there are times when I and everyone feels left out, but that doesn’t stop him from being my #1. Of course, my first choice is to go places with him, but I think everyone should have a right to their friends and family occasionally too, and I think he knows how I feel about that. He sees his family way more than I do and they all live here, for the most part, so I think he understands how I feel.

There were two other shocking things he said, that in my mind are far from true. He said I’ve got lots of friends and this whole other life that he’s not a part of. No way. I’ve got only Andy as a friend and I have no life at all other than my hobbies and chores here at home. There have been countless times when I’ve been home alone bored, wishing Tom were here, wanting to talk, wanting sex, wanting us to be in business, wanting to be a singer, wanting a kid, etc. He’s more a part of my life than anyone’s ever been. Even more so than Andy.

The other thing was that he said he was afraid he couldn’t count on me to help with the business if Kim stopped in, for example. You’re talking once every year or two, though, for 1-3 days. People put their regular life on hold much more frequently than that without falling too far behind in housework, their loved ones, etc. My parents have lots of company and don’t always travel together and they’re happy, so it can be worked out. Also, my brother, I guess I’ll only see 1-3 times a year.

I will use my best judgment possible when it comes to someone wanting to come here or take me somewhere, but all I can say is that I’d never put them over Tom. It’s just like when Tom goes away to work for 12 hours for 4 days out of the week. I still know that that doesn’t mean he puts his job over me.

To conclude all I’ve written, well, I know the easiest thing to do would be to never have sex, never have a kid, and never have company. Do I really want to do that, though? No. I believe in “no pain, no gain.” I’d really like to take the cons that go with the pros of all 3 of these things and try to get rid of all the cons I could in the meantime about each one. I don’t want to keep being a procrastinator or chickening out, despite how easy that is to do.

SATURDAY, AUGUST 20, 1994 Today I begin Phase 2.

I got up late today, and as of now, Andy should be in Springfield. The poor guy must be exhausted after flying and riding in a car for a total of 9 hours.

I taped his shows today and I’ll be doing that all next week, as well as Monday the 29th. When I went to check to see that his shows weren’t cut short at the end or the beginning, which they weren’t, boy did I get a hell of a view for the first second of the tape! Like I said, he’s renting a camcorder. Last night he told me he filmed himself beating off so he could see what it looked like from someone else’s point of view. Then he said he erased it but I’ve learned a lot lately about videotaping. For example, if I taped a movie, rewound it back to the beginning, taped another movie over it, you’d no doubt see a second or two of what was originally on the tape. He’s still going to film in here when he returns, by the way.

I’m going to go watch TV, then I’ve got some other stuff to write about.

Later…

I watched Tales from the Crypt and I’m now ready to write more. Tom and I are going to work on the sides of Piggy’s cage tomorrow so that the sawdust can’t keep getting out. Actually, we may work on it later on this morning.

I began to copy some of the pictures of animals and cartoon characters he downloaded. I’ve done about 7 of them so far and so far my luck’s been good. They’re coming out nicely.

My mother called a few hours ago to tell me that yes, she would like me to tape the Barbara Streisand concert that’s to be on HBO for two hours this Sunday. I had mentioned it to them before and asked if they wanted it, but she didn’t. Guess she changed her mind.

She also said that she had just got done writing a letter to me. Oh my God! With it being a once-in-a-lifetime thing for her, I figured I’d never get a letter from either of them until next year. That’s cool, though, and I look forward to it.

I typed letters to Kim and Brian and speaking of changing minds, well, Kim’s in for a hell of a surprise, but let me go have a cig first.

Later…

I had my smoke and did a few more drawings.

As you know, I decided to keep all of Bob’s letters in a notebook. Well, I’m filling up the rest of #35 and was so bored when I began copying what I’ve got. I figured - why keep so many copied letters? So, today I mailed out a manila envelope stuffed with letters. Kim will be really busy with that. Because she’s never home, it’ll probably take her months to go through them all.

So, what shall I do now? I think I’ll go do some editing. I definitely need some coffee first to go with the event. Editing’s so boring for the most part.

Later…

I just did a little editing and had some coffee. Now I’m going to go look back and see if I can find the date of when I had my last asthma attack, so I can be psyched when it’s been 1 whole year!

Later…

I found the date of my last attack where I had to call 911. It was November 16th. I’ve gotta make it to the 1-year marker. Please, God, let me?!

Later…

I wish Tom would get up now. I’m bored and although there’s stuff I could do, I really don’t feel up to doing it now. Maybe I’ll go draw some more. Sure, why not?

I’ve now got about 15 drawings done. Some look really good and others are just so-so. Now I’m a bit drained, so I’m going to lie down till Tom gets up.

FRIDAY, AUGUST 19, 1994 Boy, did I sleep late. I was up for a very long time too. I fell asleep at almost 9 AM and slept 10 solid hours until 7 PM. Guess I was exhausted cuz I very seldom ever sleep that long.

Tom and I chatted and fooled around. He also downloaded some pictures which I’m going to try to copy for kids’ computer coloring books.

Got my new SS card today as well as my license. This picture looks a bit better.

I sure got mail from Bob today. Like 12 pages’ worth. I also got a 2-page letter from Brian. Last night I copied some into #35. I’ll probably do more later.

Tom got a 1-month sample time/day planner in the mail today for the month of September. The thing a busy executive would use. It’s pretty neat, though, and we may get it for a whole year.

Tom went to bed at 10:00, then an hour later Andy came over. He brought chocolate-covered nuts from Joan and 7 tapes for me to tape his soaps. He leaves tomorrow at 2:30.

I’m doing laundry and hanging stuff out on the line. It’s fun and I don’t mind. Plus it saves us a little bit of money by not using the dryer. It’s just something else to do.

I did my workout with the 3 weights.

I’m psyched for Phase 2 on Saturday.

THURSDAY, AUGUST 18, 1994 I did a little editing. On one of my completed convo tapes, I have a convo with me and Nervous and another with me, Nerv and Fran. Both are so incredibly boring. Nervous is no fun in these convos cuz he was unusually calm and friendly, so right now I’m erasing them. I just run it through on play and record. This way it’s less confusing if I erase something I don’t want.

I just took my meds and boy do I like these time-release capsules better. They seem to work better. My stomach feels better being able to take these with food.

I think I’ll go decorate more envelopes in which Bob’s letters will be mailed.

Later…

I decorated one more envelope with my colored pencils.

I’m also erasing a portion of the other side of the tape. I’ll end up erasing one whole side, plus half of the other side.

I just had an idea. Well, every now and then I get in the mood to write but don’t really have much to write about. Journal #35 is only half full, so maybe I’ll go copy in there some letters I haven’t copied. I was using it for phone numbers, but there’s still plenty of room in #53 for phone numbers.

WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 17, 1994 Yesterday was Tammy’s 37th b-day. I spoke with her and she was telling me about some of the things she got.

Today I went for a doctor’s appointment and I got 11 refills on my meds! That’s a year’s supply. They gave me the Theodur in capsule form, rather than in tablets and the good news about it is that I can eat with it.

On 9/7 I’ll be going to an ear specialist to ask questions about my ear.

Not too much else is going on. I’m recording a movie for Tom right now and now I think I’ll go listen to tunes, then make a pot of tea.

Later…

I did my workout routine and in a little while from now, I’ll take a bath. I could use some freshening up.

I was just listening to some edits while I colored up a few more pages in here. Perhaps I’ll do more editing later. It has been a while and I have some ideas to try out.

Tom mentioned something about getting up early to do laundry as well as computer work. Maybe I’ll be up when he gets up. If I am, I hope he’s in the mood for fun. We haven’t had any in nearly two weeks cuz we’ve both been so busy.

Andy left a message earlier about coming over today to hang out by the pool. I called back to let him know that sounds good, but I may sleep late tomorrow. I’ll call him when I get up. He’s now officially on his vacation.

Well, that’s all for now. Now I’m going to go finish my tea and take a bath. I’ll write more later.

Later…

I decided not to take a bath right now. I just stopped the VCR from recording and now I’m not sure what I’ll do.

Tammy had said something about mailing off a letter Lisa wrote to me. I hope I get that tomorrow as well as letters from Bob and Kim.

When the fuck is our wedding pictures going to get here? If they don’t come this week, I’m calling Vegas to give them a piece of my mind.

Later…

I just did two drawings. Both were women. One’s OK, but the other’s a nightmare. Now, I’m finally going to do some editing.

Tom will be home any time now, but in the meantime, I thought I’d write. I got up at 1 PM today. Andy and I talked earlier. He’s rented a camcorder and may come over later after Tom’s gone to bed to film. I’d really like to film the house and my wall drawings to send to Tammy and my parents.

Earlier I also did some typing on #51.

I took a much-needed shower, brushed out and straightened my hair.

I don’t really have anything else to say right now. Just that I’m bored out of my mind. I hope Tom will be in the mood to play around when he gets home, but we’ll see. He’s probably going to be too tired.

I made up some fried shrimp a while ago. It was so good, but I’m still hungry, so I’ll go make up something else.

Later…

I thought Andy said he was coming over tonight, but he meant tomorrow night. Friday he takes off.

Tom’s going to call in sick from work tomorrow so he can do more work on the cooler and also do some computer programming.

This Saturday I begin Phase 2 of the Phase-Out program. I will have two holes punched into the filter.

Tomorrow I add the third weight to the leg and bun firmer as part of my workout program. I’m disappointed to have to say that when I was at the doctor’s office I was weighed at 104. I took my measurements a little while ago and here’s what they are: thighs 20½, hips 33½, waist 25¾. That sucks and I’d really like to reduce these measurements by 2-3 inches.

I tried Tom’s weekly experiment earlier. He bought instant coffee with a box of different flavors you add to the coffee. You don’t need to put milk or sugar in it. Well, I didn’t anyway. It was a little bitter and not what I’m used to. There was French Vanilla, Mocha Almond, Irish Crème, and Amaretto. The last two taste like cough syrup, but I’ll check them out. In the meantime, Tom won’t be buying it again. I remember during 1986-1988 when I used to see Nervous almost every day, the two of us were really into cinnamon coffee, but it was brewed. Not instant.

Well, I think I’ll go do other things for now and probably return later to write more.

MONDAY, AUGUST 15, 1994 Tom just got up, and believe it or not, I was playing a little guitar. I’m getting really tired, though, so I expect to go to sleep soon.

Later…

Got up at 1:30 today. I quickly spoke to Tammy. I sent her a message on Prodigy and I also wrote up the last 7 postcards (3-D) to my parents, Bob, Kim, Tammy & Bill, Lisa, Becky and Sarah.

Tom came home early from work beat and has gone to bed. Now I need to go pee and I may go for another swim.

SUNDAY, AUGUST 14, 1994 Tomorrow’s workout day. I do it every other day and I’m up to 2 weights out of the 4 on the thighs. I’ll be at 3 in a few days.

On the 20th, it’ll be time for Phase 2. That means 2 tiny holes in the filter for 2 weeks.

Last night I was playing around with the 3-D postcards. It blurred into a multi-level, but I still couldn’t see the hidden image.

I took my colored pencils and decorated Bob’s envelopes with different colors. Last night I colored the outsides of my next book. Instead of gold-trimmed pages on a few of my journals, I now have one with lots of colors. My next journal has no lines in it and I may use calligraphy pens from time to time.

I tried sleeping a while ago but had no luck.

I asked Larry again, and he did say that Ma wanted to ride with him. Probably just her, though, as Dad will stay behind with the dogs. Really? They know a million people. Can’t they find someone to dog-sit for them?

I’m really bummed that Tom couldn’t meet Larry and Jenny. I sure hope they can meet the next time. However, the next time around, the kids could be in school and Larry could maybe be by himself.

Well, now it is time for a very big jump. We’re going all the way to journal 76 now!

Later…

Got up at 10:30 today. I told Tom all about seeing Larry and Jenny. He’s now taking a nap.

Other than that, there’s not much else to tell. I was just watching some TV and now I’m kind of bored. Guess I’ll go do some computer work now.

Later…

Tom just got up a little while ago and I just got out of the tub. It rained here today and rain always makes me feel yucky. I’m now finally starting to wake up now that the sun has set and I took a bath to freshen up.

I recorded a movie earlier and in about 15 minutes I’m going to record another.

What else can I say? Well, I’m in the mood to write, but I just can’t think of anything to write about.

Later…

Tom just ran out to get smokes and right now I’m kind of frustrated. I slept till 11:30 today and I really wanted to get up at 8 AM every day. I’ll just have to make myself, even if it means 4 hours of sleep for a while. Not much else is going on at this point. I think I’ll just watch TV for a while. Later on, I may do some more writing.

SATURDAY, AUGUST 13, 1994 We got a killer electric bill today of $425. Ugh! I told Tom to just switch over to the EC and that I’ll just have to get used to it and keep adjusting to this climate as I’m going to live here for the rest of my life.

I got up today at 11:30 and so far all I’ve done is take a shower and type Kim a letter.

My brother still hasn’t called yet, so his visit here is still up in the air. I’ll put my face on soon, anyhow.

Tom’s working on getting the other EC in. Although they say it’s only 100º, it’s 37% humid, so it feels like 110º. It’s deathly hot and humid in the house, so I’m really looking forward to the other EC being installed.

I just put the fan full blast by the foot of the bed. Now I feel much better.

Tom’s taking a shower right now, then I’ll go put my face on.

Later…

I’m kind of bored right now, just passing time and seeing if Larry calls.

Tom’s out of the shower and he’s now watching TV. When he’s indoors, he’s pretty much either at the TV or the computer.

The humidity in here just knocked down my journal chart. That’s OK, though, cuz after I finish this book I’ll have to update it.

Tom’s not in the greatest mood right now cuz he’s very overworked and we may have company. Tom’s not really any more into company than I am.

Sometime tomorrow I’ll type a letter to my parents. What shall I do right now? Oh, I don’t know. Just be bored and lazy, I guess.

Later…

I wish my brother would hurry the fuck up and call if he’s coming. I hate waiting. I feel like I’m in a doctor’s office.

Later…

I guess my brother isn’t coming, so I’m going to go for a swim.

Later…

I went for that swim I needed. Yup, I did and now I feel much better. More so cuz we switched back to the AC. The EC makes it too damn humid in August. It felt like someone took a wet sheet, heated it up to 200º, then wrapped it around me. This is the very type of weather, climate, and feeling I wanted to escape from.

Still no call from Larry, so who knows where the hell they are?

I started a shopping list and tomorrow Tom’s going to shoot on over to the grocery store after work. He’ll be going in at 5 AM for 5-6 hours.

Later…

Tom went to bed a short while ago.

It feels so much better in here now that the AC is back on.

I think I’ll go type up a letter to my parents now.

Later…

Guess who was here an hour ago? Yup, Larry and Jenny. I really stressed it upon him to call first and I’m bummed Tom couldn’t meet them. He said they were scouting the area when he recognized and remembered the way. They were only here for a little while, but it was so good to see them. Jenny’s only 2” shorter than me and boy is her hair long! It’s down to her lower butt. She looks a lot like Sandy. She’s skinny, but her face is very plain. Larry’s hair is now as long as Tom’s and he had it in a ponytail.

Tom and I may go to see his parents tomorrow.

I typed a 3-page letter to my parents. I had just finished printing it out when they came, so I quickly added on the back of their letter that they had just come.

I asked Larry if he still wanted Tom to write down directions and he said he’d remember. They’re now heading for Arkansas, then to Mom and Dad’s. I’ll eventually get to see Sandy and Larry.

Later…

I’m wide awake and probably will be for a while.

I forgot to check Prodigy for any mail I might have gotten. I’ll do that now, then I’ll go watch some TV.

I hope Lisa got her tapes by now and enjoys them.

I forgot to mention that in Larry’s truck were many boxes of whipped cream. Guess that’s just what he was delivering. They also had a very very small dog with them. It was so cute and I very fearlessly picked her up. Brandy’s her name. That seems to be a popular name for animals.

Later…

I just watched a little TV and went for another swim.

I haven’t checked Prodigy yet cuz I’m getting kind of tired, believe it or not. I know, though, that I’ll be up for several more hours.

A little while ago I had a sneezing fit. Tom said he thinks I may need antibiotics. I agree. I know what I need right now. A nice hot steaming cup of coffee. I haven’t had any at all today.

Later…

This visit went so much better, not that the first one with Larry alone was bad, but everyone was so relaxed. I can now really see what I’ve always figured. I’m his favorite sister. That makes me feel good, but sad for Tammy. If my brother was given two choices, one being to be paid to see Tammy, the other paying to see me, he’d pay to see me.

FRIDAY, AUGUST 12, 1994 Got two letters from Kim today and I also spoke to my parents. It’s their 43rd anniversary. I told them their present would soon be on its way. The figurines are done now. All I have to do is pack and ship them and pray they arrive there in one piece.

Larry called today. He was in Phoenix, but couldn’t find his way here. Jenny was with him. He said if they found their way here, I could’ve gone with them to CA and returned home tomorrow. Sounds cool but I wouldn’t want to just suddenly desert Tom. They’re going to try to stop by tomorrow in the late afternoon. That’d be even better, so Tom could meet them, too. I talked to Jenny for a few minutes, too. Larry said he may bring Mom out and that she wants to ride with him. When? I don’t know.

I finished my project in #71.

Later…

I’m still up, but not for long. I went for a swim a little while ago.

I got a 3½-page letter ready to go out to Bob on Monday. Over the weekend, I’ll type letters to Kim and my folks. I did a little typing on #51.

Spoke with Andy who’s psyched at the thought of having only 6 more days till he goes home. He had planned on stopping to see Tammy, but now he’s not sure if he’ll have the time to do so.

He really liked the 3-D postcard I sent him and he wants to get some, too. My dad said he’s still trying to figure his out.

I’ve got some color now, but I really wish I had the color that Tom and Andy have.

You know what I should do right now? While I’m still waiting to get even more tired than I am, I should write as many names as I can think of in case I ever do end up doing an autobiography. I still doubt I ever will, but I’ll try to go beyond those 48 names a few pages back. Even if I barely knew them, knew them long, or if they’re jerks, good people or both. I remember some people’s names and what they looked like but there are also so many people’s faces I see, but I can only remember their first or last names only.

THURSDAY, AUGUST 11, 1994 Well, today’s Nervous’s birthday. Andy asked if I was going to call him. What’s the point? Crystal will just hog the phone and not let us talk. With Crystal and the distance between us, it’ll never be like old times. He’s a closed chapter now.

Tomorrow’s my parent’s anniversary, so I’ll call there tomorrow. I finished their figurines as well as Tammy’s.

Tomorrow’s also asshole Fran’s birthday. I still can’t believe he hasn’t called, but tomorrow he may try thinking I’ll be all sweet and friendly to him just cuz it’s his b-day. He’ll have thought wrong, though, cuz I’ll hang up on him.

I called SS and someone was supposed to call me back, but never did. What else is new with them?

Tonight I’m recording 6 hours’ worth of TV for times I get bored or lazy.

Today Andy was over. We were out by the pool where I got more color.

I got no mail today, but we mailed out more of those 3-D postcards. I began two pages of Bob’s letter and by Monday I’ll finish that as well as do one for Kim and my parents. I’ll be back to write more later.

WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 10, 1994 Just thought I’d take a break from the project I’ve been working on to get up to date on some of the things that have been going on. First of all, the major project I’m working on is in #71. I’ve randomly picked 48 people that I’m writing 2 pages about. Of course, I couldn’t pick everyone, so I just chose the first 48 people I could think of. Some of them are negative, positive, or both. Some I knew briefly, some all my life. Some are family, friends and acquaintances, lovers and enemies.

BOL #11 is done and from now on, all letters will go in a 3-ring binder or a manila envelope. I have a grand total of 293 letters! With the ones I haven’t copied, I know I’m just over the 300-mark! Wow! That’s a lot of letters.

Anyway, it’s a real sauna outside and very quiet. Tom said he thinks they took off next door a couple of days ago. He said the kids were all in the van and they were putting in boxes. Yeah, I think they did take off somewhere. Cool.

Yesterday I went to get a new license with my new name. They took another picture and I hope this one came out better.

We went to SS for a new SS card in the new name. He had to get a new one too, cuz he lost his a while ago.

Speaking of SS I called them today to find out what the hell’s going on. Am I on it or off it? She said I’m listed as on it, but I’ve got to call back tomorrow to talk to someone else. Like Tom said, if someone wants to give me money, I’ll take it.

Later…

I just did some laundry, so now I can write some more. Yesterday we ordered these colorful splash labels that say Tom & Jodi Lin S. Also a Post-it pad of paper. That says, Tom & Mystery.

We picked up two of the same kinds of figurines of a cactus with a narrow flowerpot behind it. One’s for Tammy for her birthday and the other is for my parents for their anniversary. I ran out of paints, though, so it’s delayed. I sent them cards saying that their gifts would be late. Tammy, who I talked to today, asked if I sent them anything and said she just sent a card. I gave her one hint about her gift and theirs. I said “paint” and she asked why she’d need paint. She asked if it was a picture. I said no, then quickly changed the subject. She’s no doubt going nuts trying to figure out what the hell it is.

I thought of a neat way to test my parent’s reaction if I ever was pregnant. Next April I’ll tell them I am as an April’s fool joke. If they flip, then I won’t ever talk to them if I ever do get pregnant for real. What if I were before April? Well, I’d really like Tom to be the one to tell them, but since he may not want to, I’m sure Tammy will.

Tammy asked how come Tom never calls her, but maybe we’ll surprise her one of these days. I told Tammy it works both ways. Bill’s never called me and he’s always welcomed to. Then again, I really don’t care for the guy.

Later…

My project’s 2/3 of the way done. Tom said he thought it was an excellent idea and that if he were teaching a writing class he’d tell his class to choose 20 people and write 2 pages about each one. That’s cool. I thought he’d think it rather strange if anything at all.

He may be a half-hour late this week as he’s stopping to feed his sister’s dog. She and Dave are in CA. He’ll also be leaving a half hour early before work to go feed the dog and let it out. I’m just kind of waiting for him now.

I guess I’m all up to date with everything. Gotta go get my jeans and Vegas tie-dye shirt off the line.

Later…

OK, I got my stuff off the line. The animals next door are there. I could hear them, but very faintly.

I am wondering if having my own child would impact the way next door annoys me. I believe the reason for this is that if you constantly hear your own children, it becomes difficult to distinguish them from others. Additionally, most people prefer the sounds of their own children over those of someone else’s.

Later…

I just heard the phone ring, but I figured it was just Andy calling to say hi, so I didn’t answer. It was a message from Tom, though. He’s at Mary’s and he’s going to be home between 7:30-7:45. I’ll have dinner ready for him either way. I made up cheese noodles with bacon bits and I’ll also make him two hot dogs.

I got a letter from Bob today and this time around he did something new. He addressed it to both of us.

I did my workout today and now I’ve got 2 weights in the thigh holder. In 2 weeks, I’ll be up to 4, the total amount.

I’m still on Phase 1 out of 4 until the 20th.

I did dishes, watered my plant outside, and that’s pretty much it.

Earlier today I had a sneezing fit for the first time in ages, but it was nothing compared to what I used to go through back East. Then, after that, I had the runs. I’m fine now, though. Last night Tom showed me a very easy way to print pictures and I did several. Today I was going to do some more, but I couldn’t get it started. Oh well.

Later…

Tom’s home now eating his dinner and when he’s done we’re going to chat for a while. I’m kind of horny and hoping for fun, but if he’s too tired I’ll understand.

MONDAY, AUGUST 8, 1994 Last night I’m sure the whole city of Phoenix was woken up by the massive thunderstorm we had. It woke Tom and I up sometime at 2 AM. It was really booming out there. I wished it was going on, though, when I was awake to see it. I like how I’m sure it woke them up next door.

Andy was probably pissed at being woken up and not up able to see it and enjoy it. He loves storms.

Well, I have 4 pieces of mail going out. A letter to Kim, a letter to Bob, Tammy’s b-day card, and my parent’s anniversary card.

SUNDAY, AUGUST 7, 1994 I have a million things to write about, but I’ve just been extremely busy to do so. Andy was over last Thursday and Friday. We hung out back by the pool, got some color and typed letters.

Yesterday I got a long 5-page letter from Bob. Also, my Phase-Out system came! I’m really psyched about it, too. It’s an 8-week program. Every 2 weeks you punch in 2 perforations into the filter with little tiny sharp needles.

Last Friday I taped The Guardian in SP. Luckily it came out just fine, but Andy kindly taped it as a backup.

It’s been peacefully quiet around here and Tom and I swam this weekend.

He and I are doing great and yesterday we had some serious fun sexually. It has become so easy for him to get in me and I’ve really loosened up. Today we didn’t have time for fun, but tomorrow we’ll make the time.

Yesterday, besides hot sex, we went out shopping. He got a computer book and some other stuff. I got 3 new journals, this pen I’m writing with, and also a purple one.

Also, 3-D postcards. When you look at them they’re all different kinds of pretty colors and patterns till you see the hidden image. It’s like stereo for your eyes. Tom’s mastered the technique, but so far I’ve only been able to see one postcard, plus a moving one he downloaded on the computer. There were 30 postcards. We’re sending 1 to David & Evie and I’m using the rest cuz he couldn’t think of anyone else to send them to. I’m sending 1 to Andy, 4 to my parents, 4 to Tammy & Bill, 4 to Lisa, 4 to Becky, 4 to Sarah, 4 to Kim and 4 to Bob. I put the postcard stubs and stuck a few at the back of this book. Mostly I put them in numbers 4 & 14.

Well, I’m totally beat now, so if I’ve forgotten anything I’ll write it in tomorrow.

SATURDAY, AUGUST 6, 1994 OK, now I finally have about an hour to write.

I just remembered that today’s that asshole Rosemarie’s birthday. I think she’s 30.

Gotta do my 1-2-3 workout today. The exercises are 20 minutes and the warm-up and cool-down take 10 minutes, so that’s 30 minutes total. I love the back and tummy supporter as well as the wrist weights. They’re great for when I’m sitting up typing.

I called my sister that day to tell her all about it, then got to talking with Lisa. She sang part of Get on Your Feet by Gloria and oh my God! That kid can really sing. She’s going to be great when she gets older. She already has vibrato. I didn’t get that till I was 22 and she’s only 11. Tammy says if that’s what she wants to do, she’ll support it. Thank God she’s not as negative as she used to be or is like Mom who was very discouraging. So, anyway, Lisa went on to tell me she wanted Gloria’s Spanish tape but had no money, so I made 3 tapes of Gloria’s best stuff.

I made 1 Spanish tape and 2 in English and I even put the voice exercises on that Bill made.

Now I’m going to go listen to music, but I’ll continue on later.

THURSDAY, AUGUST 4, 1994 I certainly have news to write about, but I’m so very tired now that I may not get into too much detail.

Yesterday my Tone-up 1-2-3 finally came and I love it! It’s the best method I’ve ever done. Clean-cut and simple. You do it 30 minutes every other day. I’ll expand more on it tomorrow.

I also talked to my parents. Ma asked if the shirt fits Tom, did he like the baseball, does he like sports, what kind of car does he have, what year is it, and do I drive it?

I talked to Dad, too.

I’ll write about Lisa and the tapes I’m sending her some other time.

Andy was here today and we were out back. I got some color and he may be over tomorrow, too.

WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 3, 1994 Got a letter from Bob yesterday as well as a wedding card and a letter from Alex.

I typed Alex a letter, but I won’t send Kim and Bob’s letter until Monday. I figured I’d send Kim and Bob letters every Monday and every other Monday I’ll send letters to my parents. I’ll send messages to Tammy whenever I’ve got something to say.

Our US West bill came yesterday. Amazingly enough, there were no calls billed from Fran. We’ll have to see how the next bill is and check the Sprint bill when it comes.

Fran also hasn’t called. What luck, huh? I really didn’t think he’d go down so easily. He’s not easy to shake off.

Yesterday we went down to a Social Security office. We didn’t have enough documents for proof, so we took forms with us. However, we can’t mail photocopies of documents, so we’ll go there again next Tuesday.

This Saturday I’ll probably get more journals.

Later…

Now I’m sitting at my blue card table, instead of laying on the bed.

I brought the old lamp I made in middle school in a woodshop in here and it’s now on the table. I just got up to wash the lampshade cuz it was filthy. I wish the lampshade weren’t so dark. I’d like to get a white one. The lampshade’s now drying out by the fan so I don’t end up getting zapped.

Tom will be getting up real soon. He has to work the next 3 days.

There was a surprise from him when I woke up. A huge poster of a still shot from our wedding video. It’s really cool. Sort of grainy, but if you stand a little further away, it looks so cool.

Yesterday we began our first task as far as shaping up the back room goes. We picked out tools that I may need, especially cuz he’ll have tools he uses in the back little room and the garage. He put up a pegboard on the door where the hot water tank and the washer are. It’s in this little square area between the garage and kitchen doorway. The other kitchen doorways are off the living room and off the back room, but that one’s more like an archway. I believe there were once sliding glass doors there before the back room was added on. Anyway, on the pegboard, we put screwdrivers (regular and Philips), a hammer, a pair of pliers, a broom, and a duster. I hung the mop up on a holder that was already there.

It’s 6:02 now and I think I hear his alarm. If he doesn’t come out by 6:05, I’ll go make sure he’s up.

Thanks to a commercial on TV, I learned something new. I have feminine powder, and I’d sit back on the toilet and try to stick some down there but when I’d sit up it’d go all over. Well, this time around I put it in my underwear. The tip came just in time as I got my period and it really helps keep me dryer.

Tom’s up so I’ll see ya!

Later…

Tom showed me changes he made with the picture printing program and now he’s eating hot dogs and watching the news.

TUESDAY, AUGUST 2, 1994 Boy, was I busy yesterday. I busted my ass cleaning the bathroom, scrubbing the kitchen floor and doing laundry. I washed the little rugs in the kitchen and bathroom and the curtains seem like they shrunk, though. Before I washed the curtains, I touched up the soundproofing stuff in the windows. There are tons of gaps in them, so I shoved in cotton balls and the last of the silver foil labels. Lots of the labels had fallen when I woke up. Instead of all the work wearing me out, it pumped my adrenaline, so I ended up being up for 20 hours when I finally knocked off at around 4 PM. I got up shortly after midnight. I’m still a bit tired.

Later…

Larry called yesterday. He started off by saying he was down the street and wanted to come over. I thought, holy shit! I’ve been up so long and look like hell. He was only kidding, though, and was at Mom and Dad’s in Florida. He said his plans are all fouled up, but he still hopes to get out here this summer. I told him all about my unpredictable schedule and why I understood that oh so well. He said Larry’s done riding with him for the summer cuz he has to go to school early cuz of Band or something like that.

Jenny just got back from camp, so she’ll go on the road with him. I hope to meet up with all of them eventually, but right now Larry’s done traveling alone.

I finally remembered to ask his age which I figured was between 38-40, but like most of us in the family, he looks younger. He was teasing me by saying I look 14. He saw our wedding video, and I thought, oh no! He said it was very good and I didn’t look fat.

He’s still looking forward to meeting Tom and when I said how blessed I was, cuz most guys are jerks, he jokingly goes, “I’m a slut.”

I don’t think that was a joke, though, at one time and I said I probably would have been too if I were a guy.

He also mentioned my possibly going with him on his rig maybe to CA for a few days. In the meantime, he doesn’t know when he’s coming, but I told him what Tom’s days off were.

MONDAY, AUGUST 1, 1994 Tom got up an hour ago. He slept for 12 hours. Lucky him. I wish I’d done that, too.

I was just playing with Piggy while he was working on his computer program.

I just did another huge round of journal housekeeping. I took out address labels that were in the wrong books. I wish I didn’t stick the stickers I just stuck in this book (4 of them). Why? Cuz I have so much doodling on the front and back covers of so many journals, especially in the beginning that it’d be nice to cover it. Well, I’ll be getting these TV dinners regularly, so little by little I’ll cover them.

Tom just came in and closed the air duct in my closet, so no spiders can come down.

Later…

Yesterday I didn’t do too much. I watched the women’s gymnastics and a movie I taped when I got up.

Tomorrow we’re going to go get my name changed with SS and also discuss the letter SSI sent. I still need to call the Registry of Motor Vehicles too.

[askbensolo]

Journal Entry #43: laundry day

“I can understand why your mother has a protective tendency over you,” Fannie said, neatly folding a pair of pants. “You gave us quite a scare when you ran away.”

I made a face. I hated remembering that event, even if I couldn’t remember much. The night that Snoke convinced me to leave home and meet him in secret... I never ended up meeting him, but I did leave. The whole thing was a blur, and I had woken up in the medcenter a few days later.

“That was six years ago," I muttered, balling a pair of socks together and tossing it at the open drawer. I missed.

“Six years isn’t a very long time to older people,” Fannie pointed out.

"Well, don't tell my mom you think she's old."

"I never said that," Fannie said primly, "and I would never dream of disrespecting the Huttslayer in such a way." She started to hand me a pair of underwear, blushing, then stopped.

"Oh...the front needs to be sewn up. I could fix it for you, if you like."

I looked at it, and then at her, not sure what to say.

"It...it's supposed to be like that."

"It is?"

"Yeah."

She looked at me blankly, the very picture of a girl who had only had sisters.

I suppressed an awkward laugh. "Want me to explain?"

She went red. "Goodness, no." She thrust it at me and drew one of her tunics from the pile.

"...Anyway," I went on. "I just feel like I've changed so much, and it's not fair that the things that happened when I was younger are still being held against me like this."

"It's not you she doesn't trust, Ben. It's Snoke."

"Okay, but how does that play out practically?” I countered. “It’s me she’s always checking up on. Even if she has backed off a little. Every time I go home, or every time she calls me, she’s always gotta ask. ‘No more voices, right?’ I’ve been fine for years. I mean, the only thing keeping any of that alive is her, every time she brings it up and back into the present.”

I balled up another pair of socks and flung it hard. Missed again. Fannie bent down and put them in for me.

“You don’t have to do that, Fan.”

“Oh, I’m right here anyway.”

I sighed. “I just want to move on and forget about what happened. And I’m doing that. But she isn’t.”

“I think she’s right to be cautious,” Fannie said, sounding rather careful herself. “She doesn’t want to lose you again. And neither do I, or any of your other friends.”

I grumbled and tossed the last ball of socks, barely even trying. It went sideways, but course-corrected itself in mid-air and roosted cleanly in the drawer. I turned to Fannie, who had her hands behind her back and a look of wide-eyed innocence.

“Nice one, Fan.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

I stacked a bunch of folded gym shorts on top of each other and chucked them into the closet. “I don’t even know what Snoke would do with me now, anyway. He never told me why he was trying to win me over—or if he did, he made it so I can’t remember now—but it doesn’t take a genius to figure it must have had something to do with the Skywalker blood. My Force potential—or whatever. He wanted me to train with my uncle. And I’ve tried to tell that to my mom. That if I went to go train with Luke, I'd probably just be playing into Snoke's hands somehow.”

I leaned half of my weight against the bed, spreading my arms to gesture around the room. “I’m safer here. Just a normal guy with a bachelor’s degree and a one-bedroom apartment he can’t afford, in a city he loves, living out the rest of his natural days in corporate hell like the Force intended.”

“I thought you said you were happy with your life,” Fannie remarked dryly.

“Oh, I am," I assured her. "Did you miss the 'city he loves' bit? Anyway—what’s Snoke gonna do with me now that I’ve got a bachelor’s in Journalism and no Force training? Make me write dark-side propaganda? Oh wait, I’m already doing that.”

“You’re so bad, Ben.”

“I’m a realist is what you mean," I corrected. "But what I mean is…I don’t see why he’d come after me anymore. I’ve rejected my bloodline. Rejected the Force. So…I’m not useful to him, or anyone else who’d want to control me. I’m safe.”

Fannie looked uncertain. “It does seem like you’re doing a lot better these days. And I do hope you’re right. But, I don’t know, Ben…I don’t think someone spends seventeen years poisoning a young mind through the Force, just to give up and disappear.”

“Well, that’s what it sure looks like to me,” I said, putting my hands on her shoulders to gently move her out of my path and sidling past. “He spent years priming me to be his little toy blaster, only for me to beat him and win. Can’t blame him for not wanting to show his face ever again."

I kicked the sock drawer closed with a satisfying thud.