#Not only getting beat up by the beast physically and mentally but also getting your crush

[allimili]

pure vanilla is so cooked 💀 💀 😭

[skyfallslayer]

Should We Stay or Should We Go? || Chapter Six

-A ST Rewrite Feat. Steve Harrington x Henderson!OFC-

Main Masterlist || Series Masterlist

🎲Summary: A frantic Jonathan, Hopper and Joyce look for Nancy in the darkness before uncovering the truth about the lab’s experiments. Steve starts accepting his babysitting role. Steph and Will are running out of time.

🎲Pairings: Will x Platonic!OFC; Dustin x Sister!OC; Slow burn! Steve x Henderson!OFC (Ex-bestfriends to Lovers); Slow burn! Byler

🎲Rating: Teen-Mature

🎲Word Count: 15,845

🎲Date: 12/13/24

🎲Warnings: Angst; Heavy Language & Dialogue; References To Broken Friendship; Mental Strain/Breaking Down; Talks of Mental Health Issues; Bullying of All Kinds; Physical Fighting; Lying; "Death" and Talks of Death; Brief Mention of Corpses; Gun Use; Implied Unloving Parents; Implied Child Abuse; Implied Drug Abuse; Blood & Gore; Arson & Alcohol; Will & Steph's Mental Strain - Joyce's Too; Hopper Being a Great Cop & A Total Mess; Dustin Being a Slight Asshole; Steve's 'Asshole Era'; Steve's Emotional Damage. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!

(And let me know if I missed anything)

🎲A/N: I am sooooo sorry this took so long! It was never my intention to have neglected it for this long, but here it is. Hopefully it lives up to your expectations. Also, small heads up, I've only re-read this over a few times, so hopefully everything makes sense and looks good. Thank you for your patience ❤️. Enjoy!

You know what they say… Curiosity kills the cat. Or in this instance…

Curiosity kills the Wheeler.

Now she was staring at something truly horrifying, something that was like out of a Stephan King novel or out of an exorcist movie. This… thing was huge. When she first caught a glance of it at Steve’s house she never pictured it that big. An eight foot, lanky, twisted limb individual that was feasting on a poor deer. Her breath was caught in her throat, its munching sounds found its way into her ears rocking her to her core; Her dying flashlight was shaking in her hand.

She needs to leave, go back through the tree before this thing decides it wants desert. Yet, luck was not on her side, as soon as she took a step backwards something crackled beneath her feet. On cue the monster turns around with a shriek, causing her to drop everything and run.

“Jonathan!” She screams, hoping that he – someone – would hear. Then her heart skipped a beat when she got a reply. “JONATHAN!!”

“Nancy!”

She twisted around the trees, the beast right on her tail–

“I’m right here! Nancy! Just follow my voice!”

Follow his voice. Follow his voice. Follow his voice. Follow his– The thing decided to lunge, which she manages to get out of the way in the nick of time, running in a new direction.

“Follow my voice, Nancy, I’m right here! Nancy?!”

She pulls herself to a halt, clinging onto a tree and taking a breather. She hears him but she just can’t see him! Everything was starting to blur and look the same to the point she doesn’t even know where the damn entrance is!

“Jonathan…?” She whispers, and chokes down a sob as she hears the beast growling and lurking around somewhere behind. Is this it? Is this how her life was going to end? In a place that people probably won’t even believe exists? She shook to her core, the beast footsteps starting to fade, but what good would that be if she didn’t know where she was going?

But something must have answered her prayers as a hand suddenly covers her mouth, startling her as someone quietly and quickly shushes beside her ear. Her stomach dropped to her ankles, as she fearfully followed the hand to… she couldn’t even finish the thought she was so taken back. She was completely baffled to find it belonged to the Police Chief of Hawkins.

The Police Chief? She thought, her mind of course strolling to the dread and the worst of it all. Did her parents call because she was gone? Did Hopper get abducted like poor Will and Stephanie? What could it–

Once he registers that he has her attention (mostly), he silently tells her to follow him. Obliging, she stays close, following him right back to where she came through.

Relief fell through her, then once again horror when that growling came back at full force. The two parties stop, frozen as the beast returns a few paces behind them; Then… 

It charged. The next few seconds were a blur for Nancy– 

Barely remembering how he grabbed her and held her close–

Barely registering him taking out his firearm and taking shots–

Barely recalling as he yanked them both backwards into a tree–

.

.

.

Both Jonathan and Joyce let out a scream when someone’s hand shot through the bubble.

“HELP!!!” It shouts, their eyes widened.

“Hang on!!” Joyce yells, as her and her son use a death grip on his hand, planting their feet into the Earth and pulling with all their might. All it took was their faces to turn bloodshot red before finally seeing the upper half of Hopper’s body. “Ugh– COME ON!!”

And one more large yank from the both of them sent them flying across the forest floor, and Hopper crashed flat on his back with Nancy in his hold.

Hopper immediately squeezed the sobbing girl comfortably, reassuring her softly. “It’s okay. I got you. I got you…”

“Nancy!” Jonathan sighs with relief, him and Joyce crawling over to see them. He helped them sit up, the two of them covered in a weird goo, both looking like they had just seen hell and survived. 

As the four of them tried to process the last few minutes, they gazed upon the tree that was slowly closing itself back up. 

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

“Eleven!” Her name erupted his throat for the thousandth time tonight. Steve’s not quite sure what time it was, but it was definitely dark and freezing cold, yet he refuses to give up. “Eleven!”

Once he was completely sure his mother was dead asleep it was easy enough to slip out again. Dressed as warmly as he could, flashlight in hand, baseball bat in the other with a backpack full of supplies for anything that he might need along the way. He even brought an extra jacket to sling around the kid when he found her. He was left circling around the junkyard and the area around it; And of course it had to be all wooded, the perfect place to hide.

“Eleven!” He shouts again, then sighs, his breath could be seen in the air. “Look, kid, I… I don’t know if you can hear this, but if you can, I’m not mad about what happened. Frankly, I’m more worried about you. And that’s the god’s honest truth, I swear, I just…” Another sigh. “It’s cold, and I don’t want you freezing. I just… I-I just want you to be alright, kiddo. Okay?”

Of course he was expecting an answer, but he had a feeling he wasn’t going to get a reply which was correct. Instead, he was met with a heavy wind blow that sent a chill through his body.

Shit… He frowns. “Listen, if I don’t see you in the next few hours or you don’t want to approach me, just… please consider going back to Mike’s place, or… you can even come to mine.”

Then he mentally slapped himself. Of course she wouldn’t know his place! “Um, if– if you remember where Will’s house is, I’m not too far from there. The woods across the street just take that straight through. The walk’s about… forty minutes, and uh, my house has a big pool in the backyard and… I’ll be waiting for you. Um…”

It kind of hurts that he’s not getting an answer.

“I’ll probably have to repeat what I just said in a few hours but–” His face morphs into something warm and greeting. “I really hope you heard what I said. And please consider.”

Nothing again, and Steve prays that she hears him, I mean, that’s all he can do as he starts his walk back up again; Shouting her name over and over until the sun starts to rise.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

|| THE OTHER SIDE ||

She felt him pull the blanket around them closer before snuggling against her side – not just for warmth this time, but for comfort, something they both desperately needed now. Steph and Will found themselves sitting inside Castle Byers, both trying to stay snug, both trying to process what had happened in the last few hours, those…

Those hours that they couldn’t even believe just happen. 

“So…” Steph begins, fiddling with the walkman in her hands, the one that apparently saved her from the nightmare she was in. “You just played music?”

“Uh, huh.” Will said, nodding.

“And…” Her hands shook at the slightest. Just thinking about it made her skin crawl. “How did you know how to do that?”

“I didn’t.” He frowns, visibly upset. “Like I said earlier, when I accidently turned on the boombox, the music was scaring the monster away. So I thought, maybe, whatever had a hold on you would have the same effect.”

“Well it worked.” She lays the device in her lap, sighing into her hands, thinking. “Listen, Will, I’m going to be blunt.” She meets his worried gaze. “I don’t think we’re going to make it.”

Steph hated how easily those words slipped out, how easily it was to admit that they were stuck in a rut. Her fingers clawed at her thighs as she continued, “I mean, I have faith in your mom, I really do, but we’re running out of time here. And who knows if she’s even figured out a way to get to us, if she knows where we are. We’re both…” She swallows. “We’re both physically and mentally tired, we’re starving and cold too. I mean, if that thing doesn’t kill us, then the cold certainly will. Look at us, we’re shaking and we have layers upon layers of clothes that slowly are not doing much for us. We’re slowly dying at this point.”

Will says nothing knowing she’s right. He’s lost count how many pairs of socks were on his feet, or sweaters he has under his jacket. “Then… what do we do?”

She sighs again, rubbing her forehead (and putting her brain into overdrive). “Alright let’s stop and really think. We obviously weren’t the only ones brought here, right? Remember the girl from Steve’s pool?”

“Yeah.” He straightens up a bit, catching on what she was trying to explain. “From the looks of it, that thing caught her off guard.”

“See, that’s what I was thinking. What if that thing–” She shakes her head. “You know what, we got to give it a name. Can’t keep calling it ‘thing’ or ‘beast’, it’s confusing. Um…”

Will suddenly recalls what started all this indirectly. “...I got beaten by the Demogorgon.”

“Huh?”

“I rolled a seven, and I needed to roll a ten, so I ended up getting beaten by the Demogorgon.” He locks eyes with her again. “We got beaten by the Demogorgon.”

She clenches her jaw. “The Demogorgon. That’s what is hunting us.” Steph says, while nodding. “Okay. Okay. Alright, so what I was thinking is that Demogorgon is like a wolf. It kills its prey, and drags it back to the den, its home, this place, to feast.”

“So… it’s hungry, and this whole place is its home?”

“Correct. The thing is, who knows if we are even the Demogorgon’s first victims? There could have been plenty of people before us that got dragged here. There’s probably been more people than the girl at the pool we saw.”

“So if it’s dragging people here, then it’s somehow able to travel between here and Hawkins. Like it’s using a gateway.”

“Correct. But I don’t think it’s using one gateway, I think there’s somehow more than one.”

He tilts his head, curious. “How so?”

“Remember what you said? The girl looked like she was caught off guard. But–” How does she phrase this? “But she was scared like we were scared when we first saw that thing. Now, I mean we’re still scared anytime we come across the Demogorgon, but not like the first meeting, right?”

“Yeah.” Will said, after taking a second to process it. “Yeah, you’re right.”

“See? Every time we encounter it, it comes out of nowhere.”

“Like it portal-hops, almost.”

“Yeah, exactly.”

“So out there…” He starts looking more hopeful. “There’s at least a few gateways. So all we have to do is find one, and maybe it’ll take us home.”

Steph nods before frowning. “There’s only one problem about that. Every time we try doing something to help us get out of here, the Demogorgon shows up. I mean, this evil version of Hawkins is still Hawkins. It’s huge. We’ll never be able to search around without having to worry about it showing up.”

“We have to do something then.”

“Yeah. I mean–” She shrugs. “What can we do? Music and guns seemed to only stun it.”

“Unless, we figure out a way to not stun it. What if…” Will couldn’t believe what was coming out of his mouth next–

.

.

.

“What if we kill it?”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Hopper let himself close his eyes as he rested at the table, sitting in nothing but his boxer briefs and undershirt. His (dry clean only) uniform had been shoved into the wash in an attempt to get the sticky goo off as he’s second in line for the shower. He was still trying to process what he just went through in the last hour. Another world, real monsters, the lab, the Staties, the fake bodies, everything. It was way too much for the forty-two year old man to wrap his head around. Way too much for any sane human being.

My god… what have I gotten myself into? He was pulled from his thoughts when someone rattled the table as they sat down.

“Look, we gotta go through this again.” Joyce pushed eagerly, hands flat against the news articles Hopper brought over.

The Police Chief looks at her tiredly. “I told you everything that I saw.” He replies, then takes a puff of smoke from his cigarette. 

“Oh, my gosh.” She rolls her eyes. “Tell me again.”

Just before Hopper could continue, her son came into the room, looking mentally and physically exhausted. “Is she alright?” He asked, getting a nod.

“Yeah.” Jonathan said, nervously fiddling with his hands as he took a seat with them. “She’s showering right now.”

“That’s good.” Joyce said, before turning her attention back on the other adult. “Continue.”

“Upstairs or downstairs?” He asks, softly. 

“Upstairs.”

“There was a laboratory. It was where they must do experiments or something, and then there was… there was this kid’s room–”

“How do you know it was a kid’s room?”

“It’s.. M-More like a prison.”

“So why would you think it was a kid’s room, then?”

Hopper inhales sharply. “Because, I told you, the size of the bed, there was a drawing, there was a stuffed animal–”

Joyce perks up. “You didn’t say there was a drawing.”

“Yeah, there was a drawing of a... an adult and a child. It said ‘Eleven’ on it.”

“Was it good?” Both Joyce and Jonathan said in unison, both having the same idea.

Hopper looks between the two, confused. “It was a kid’s drawing. It was stick figures.”

Joyce then sighs herself, getting up quickly to fetch something before slamming it down in front of him. “Wasn’t Will.” She clarifies, as he takes in the skillful drawing, confusion going away instantly.

Although that went away, something else took its place.

His eyes widened. “Earl…” Hopper mutters, setting the drawing aside to grab the news articles, shifting them around to find something he just thought of. “The night that Benny died, Earl said he saw some kid with a shaved head with Benny. Now, I pressed him, he said it might be Will, but maybe…”

“Maybe, it wasn’t?” Jonathan asked, him and his mother leaning in closer to what the cop was digging around for. 

“Look…” He flashes the piece of paper at them, a woman plastered on the front of it all. “This woman, Terry Ives, she claims to have lost her daughter, Jane. She sued Brenner, she sued the government… Now, the claims came to nothing, but what if…” A look of horror crosses his face. “I mean, what if this whole time I’ve been… I’ve been looking for Will… I’ve been chasing after some other kid? What if this goes so much deeper than we thought?”

“So you’re saying that, maybe this Brenner guy is taking kids for some… experiment?” Joyce asked, trying to get some clarity. 

“Maybe yes, maybe no.” He replies, his fingers subtly twitching against the table. “But I know in my gut that the lab has something to do with your son’s disappearance. It has to. There’s too many paths crossing for them not to be.”

“Okay, but if that is the case, why Will? And where does Stephanie fit into this?” Jonathan asked.

“Here’s the thing about Stephanie, with all the evidence we have, I think she simply was just at the wrong place at the wrong time. I think Will was always the main target, she just happened to be there when they decided to move in.” Hopper sighs. “Where is she now? I don’t know. But they must have crossed paths with her once if they managed to make a fake corpse that looks like her.”

The teenager took a moment to think everything over, before shaking his head. “This is getting… insane. Really insane.”

“Tell me about it, kid. I know.”

“Then what’s the next step? Where do we go from here?” Joyce asks, but before she got an answer, Nancy had entered the room. Semi-damp towel wrapped around her neck, and dressed in clothes she was given, she comes in with a distant look that she tries to play off.

“Thank you for the clothes, and shower, Ms. Byers.” 

“Oh, no need to thank me. Um…” Joyce takes a step towards her with a warm smile. “Listen, it’s late. How about you stay the night?”

“Are you sure?” Nancy asked, surprised. 

“Yes, I’m sure. Just… call your mother. I wouldn’t want her to worry. Uh, Jonathan–” She gets her son’s attention. “Why don’t you show her where the phone is and get the extra blankets and pillows out?” She awaits for them to disappear from sight before turning back to Hopper and asking,  “So what’s the next step?”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

It wasn’t until she had to get Joyce on the phone to confirm she really was at the Byers Household that Nancy was allowed to stay. They came up with some excuse that Nancy was helping Jonathan with some homework and it went later than expected. Luckily, Karen bought it, and now her daughter was wondering how she was even going to get any sleep. Every time she closes her eyes… she sees that thing. That monster stalked her like prey, and was this close to snagging her and the Police Chief and ending their lives.

This. Freaking. Close.

I mean… how would Jonathan and his mother explain to her family what happened? To explain how she was eaten/killed by a beast with no eyes?  Speaking of…

“You feel better?” Jonathan asks, as he looks up from fixing up his bed when enters the room. 

“Yeah.” She said, nodding. 

“That’s good. Um…” He shifts nervously on the balls of his feet, gesturing to the object at hand. “I-Is my bed okay? Do you need another blanket? Or–”

Nancy shakes her head. “I-I can’t take your bed.”

“Trust me, my mom will kill me if I offer you the couch.” He chuckles. “Just take it. I’ll sleep in Will’s room.”

“You sure?” She asks, and he nods. “Okay.”

“Okay.” He repeats, and starts making his way to leave, but–

“It’s just, um…” Her hands squeeze together tightly. “I… I don’t wanna be alone, so….” She adverts her eyes. “Can you, like, stay with me tonight?”

“S-Stay?” He slurs, surprised.

She shakes her head slowly as she sits down on the bed. “Yeah…”

“Uh, y-yeah. I-I’ll stay. Um–” He looks around the room. “Just let me get–”

“Can you just come sit? Uh, you can… take half the bed if you want or…” She groans quietly into her hands, before shuttering visibly. “Jesus…”

Jonathan immediately sits down as well, taking in how scared she is and tries to find the right words. “You know, it… it can’t get us in here.”

“We don’t know that.” Nancy whispers, looking at him “Every time I close my eyes, I just… keep seeing that... thing. Wherever I was, that place… I think that it lives there. It was feeding there. Feeding on that deer.”

“Hey, I won’t let it get you.”

“But it got everyone else? That means that if… if Will, Stephanie and Barbara…”

“Hey.” He wraps an arm around her shoulder, giving her a side hug. “My mom said she talked to Will. Talked to Stephanie. If they’re alive, there’s a chance Barbara is, too. That means that she’s… trapped in that place. We just have to find it again.”

She gives him a puzzled look. “You wanna go back out there?”

“I don’t know.” He frowns. “I’ll see what my Mom and the Police Chief say tomorrow, then I’ll make a decision.” 

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Dustin springs up and off the couch when he hears the front door open and shut. Walking the direction of where it was, he was nearly bulldozed over by his big sister, whose arms were crossed and had a sour look upon her face.

“Where have you been?” He asked, following her closely behind. “You didn’t walk me home from school, and you’ve been gone for six hours now. Mom’s worried sick and is looking for you.”

“Well I’m fine. I just wanted to clear my head.” She mutters, heading for her room.

“You could have cleared your head when you came home. You could have just told mom you wanted some time alone. You didn’t have to freaking disappear on us.” What will their mom say? She’s been freaking out and fearing the worst and his sister’s acting like it’s nothing! What’s her deal? “Phanie? Phanie you listening? Phanie–”

“Jesus, Dustin–” She turns around to face him, stopping in the middle of her doorway. Her sour expression had faded into a certain sadness he couldn’t pinpoint. “Just– I’ll explain to mom what happened, I just… I just want to be left alone.”

His shoulders slack at her tone. “Okay. That’s fine. It’s just, we were just worried, you know? You normally don’t disappear like that. We… should I call Steve to let you know you’re fine? I’m sure he’s worried–”

“I don’t want to talk about Steve. I don’t want you to, or mom, I don’t even want to see him again.”

“Phanie…?”

“I don’t–” She laughs quietly on the verge of tears. “I shouldn’t even be crying. It’s not like he cares, or that he wants to be my friend anymore, or… h-he acts like he doesn’t so… fuck–”

“Stephanie–”

“Just leave me alone!”

Then she slams the door in his face without a warning or word. 

.

.

.

That was over two years ago, and he still doesn’t know the full story (and even doubts that he ever will). His sister told their mother they had a bit of a disagreement that led to their falling out, ending all discussions and/or thoughts about the boy; Everything she had that held any memory of him was long stored away. Or so he thought.

Dustin still couldn’t wrap his head around why she was still wearing this damn necklace he gave her. Out of everything that they gave one another, he would think that this gift was the most sentimental of them all, so why keep it?

He examines in his palm almost wanting to chuck in the trash, but another part of him wants to wait until he gets his sister back to ask her, ‘Why? Just why?’. 

Phanie. I just don’t get it. Is there something I’m missing? But his thoughts were abruptly stopped when his walkie fired up with feedback. He sets it aside and grabs the walkie, pulling up the antenna to listen.

[ ‘Dustin, you copy?’ ]

“Yeah, Mike. I copy. What’s up?”

[ ‘Meet me at my place. We got to go over a few things.’ ]

“Copy that. Over and out.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

|| THE OTHER SIDE ||

Will couldn’t believe where all the confidence suddenly came from, especially given their situation. But for some reason, it all felt so right to say.

Stephanie stares at the boy with her big blue eyes, a little bit shocked by what he said. “You want to kill it?” She asked, to confirm.

“Yeah.” He says, adrenaline pumping his veins. “What if we kill the Demogorgon? If we kill it, it might be our only shot at finding a gate unscathed.”

She blinks. “That’s… that’s not the most terrible idea I’ve heard. But how does one kill a thing like that?”

Will hums, brows pushed together in concentration. “Music?”

“Music could work.” She nods. “However, from what you told me, one boombox seemed to just scare it off. There’s no electricity, it’s not like we can broadcast a song over the radio, we’re going to need a lot more boxes. Plus, who knows if we have to play the same song on all of them. There’s no way everyone in town has the same cassettes.”

“True.” He bites his lip. “Guns? We can go get more.”

“Guns could do the job. But when you faced it back at the house? Did it look injured at all? I shot after we talked with your mom.”

“Hmm.” He stops to rack his brain again. Did it? “I think it was injured, but it surely didn’t stop it from coming after me.”

“Okay. So if we use guns, I mean we’re going to have to rapidly fire after rapid fire.”

“That’s going to be too hard.”

“Yeah.”

“So what do we do?”

Stephanie stops to think for herself, pulling the blanket close when she gets a chill. And that’s when the lightbulb went off. “Cold.” She gasps quietly. “This place is cold. It must like the cold. If it likes the cold, then–”

“It hates the heat.” Will perks up excitedly. “Heat is the weakness, then–”

“We can kill the Demogorgon with it.” She couldn’t help but smile at the revelation. “Alright, quickly. What is stuff that’s flammable?”

“Flammable? Um, matches, gasoline, lighter fluid–”

“Alcohol.” She replies. “If we can get all those things, find a good place to set up a trap, overload the shit out of it with everything it hates, and we kill it then…”

“We might be able to go home.”

Their gazes lock again, and suddenly they felt like they were finally on the same level, save wavelength with their thinking. They finally found something that could bribe them into not losing their will to live.

“Then let’s go shopping.” Steph said, grinning. Her words kickstarted them to pack everything up and crawl out of the hideout. Before they took off, she stares down at the walkman again, thinking. “You know, just thought of something.”

“What?” Will asks, looking up at her.

“Remember when we said that maybe we could hear people if they were only thinking negatively?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, they say when playing your favorite music, your brain releases dopamine, giving you a sense of euphoria. What if playing the music keeps all the bad things away?”

“That makes sense. You did say when you were trapped in that place, it got all brighter when the song was playing.”

“Yeah. It did.” She looks down at it again, fascinated by how such a basic thing saved her life. 

“Maybe you should wear it while we walk there.”

“You think?”

“Yeah. Better safe than sorry, you know?”

“Yeah, I guess.” She sighs. “Okay, I will. But listen–” She makes sure she has his full attention. “If you start feeling weird, or you get a headache, or your nose starts to bleed, or anything unusual, you need to tell me and I’ll hand it over. Capish?” He nods. “Good. Got ‘The Clash’ cassette?”

“Yep.” He nods, patting his pocket.

“Alright. Let’s go.” She slides on the headsets and starts the song before taking his hand.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Joyce was nervously fiddling with the cigarette in her mouth as she waited for Hopper to get off the phone with some kind of news. She hopes it’s good news, she hopes that he’s able to use his connections to get some kind of push in the right direction.

Come on, Hop. Don’t let me down. She soon watches him hang the phone on the receiver, and turns her way. “Did you get it?” 

“I got it.” Hopper replies, waving the piece of paper around. 

“Got what?” Jonathan interrupted as he entered the kitchen. “Mom?”

“Um–” She briefly looks over at the Police Chief. “We found out where that Terry Ives woman lives. We’re going to pay her a visit.”

“Oh.” He looks between them for a second. “Just the two of you?”

“Listen–” She places her hands on his shoulder. “It would be best if just me and Hopper went alone.”

“Mom–”

“She’s right, son.” Hopper cuts in. “Something big is going on, and it would be best and safe if you and Nancy stay behind.”

“But, Chief–”

“If the lab is really behind this, then it’s better that they don’t know the two of you are involved in solving this, alright?”

As much as he hated to admit it, Jonathan knew he had a point. “Alright.”

“Just… make sure Nancy gets home safe, and stays out of trouble.” Hopper glances over at Joyce. “I’ll get the car started up.”

“Okay.” She says, watching him leave. “Listen–” She pats her son’s chest to make sure he’s paying attention. “If you want to, you can stalk up on ammo for our guns, that’s fine with me. However that’s not an invitation to be going after that thing we saw. Guns are emergencies only. Alright?”

He cracks a small smile. “Alright.”

“Good. And only if Nancy feels up to it. But I have a feeling that she’s not leaving until she gets some answers too.”

“Okay, mom. I got it. We’ll be good.”

“Good.” She says, just before Hopper honked his horn and shouted something incoherently. “Okay. I got to go. Love you, and be safe.”

“I will.” He squeezes her hand real quick. “You too. Be safe.” He anxiously watches her leave, and that’s with him knowing how skilled Hopper is. He knows she’s in safe hands, but still. They still haven’t puzzled all the pieces together yet. Who knows what is still missing and awaits. 

“Where did they run off to?” Nancy asked upon entering. She was dressed in her old clothes from yesterday, freshly cleaned, and her brown locks tied back in a ponytail. 

“Actually that’s what I wanted to talk to you about.” Jonathan says, all business now. “They figured out something last night. Something about the lab and having a connection in all this.”

“The Hawkins Lab?” She gives him a strange look. “What does a research lab have to do with all this?”

He sighs. “I think it’s time to get you up to speed.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Strange.

The forty year old science teacher at Hawkins Middle school surely wasn’t expecting any kind of guest today. Nor someone so special like the woman before him. Dressed very nicely, hair done perfectly, and with a bright smile she shared with him why she’s here with much excitement.

“-and we’re making a newsletter, which we’ll send out monthly.” She continues as she hands him over a pamphlet that says: ‘The Indiana AV Club’. “It’ll showcase all the latest equipment, as well as how-to articles, which the kids write themselves.”

His face lights up as he reads. “Oh, that’s neat.”

“What we’re really trying to do here, Mr. Clarke–”

“Uh, please, call me Scott.”

“Scott.” She tests, her smile growing bigger. “What we’re trying to do here, Scott, is to connect kids from all over the state and give them the support and encouragement to pursue careers in technology. We feel these are the kinds of kids that are going to make Indiana proud.”

“I agree, yes.” He nods. “Completely.”

Hook.

“So, you know any kids you think might wanna participate?”

Line.

“Oh, I have a few in mind.”

Sinker.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Dustin is this close to shoving his friend’s head into a wall. He swears, out of all his friends, both Mike and Lucas are constantly fighting for the title of ‘Most Hot Headed/Overexaggerator’. Will was too quiet to ever play peace-keeper, so naturally this role fell on him. But man… after knowing them both for so long, it was really hard to keep the ‘peace’ part of the role up.

“I just... I can’t believe she didn’t come back.” Mike repeated and paced around the basement once more.

“She’s gotta be close.” Dustin tries again to reassure. 

“She said it wasn’t safe. She just messed up the compasses because she wanted to protect us. She didn’t betray us–”

Dustin bites his lip. “Mike, calm down.”

“I shouldn’t have yelled at her. I never should’ve done that.”

“Mike, this isn’t your fault.”

“Yeah, it’s Lucas’.”

“It wasn’t his fault, either.”

That got the Wheeler to stop moving around and give a stern glare. “It wasn’t his fault?”

“No.” Dustin said, standing his ground.

“So you’re saying he wasn’t way out of line?”

“Totally, but so were you!”

“What?” Mike scoffs.

“And so was Eleven.”

“Oh, give me a break!”

“No, Mike, you give me a break!” The Henderson jabbed his finger at him. “All three of you were being a bunch of little assholes. I was the only reasonable one. Shit, hate to admit it, but even fucking Steve Harrington was being reasonable. The bottom line is... you pushed first. And you know the rule. You draw first blood…”

Mike shakes his head and throws his hands in the air. “No! No way! I’m not shaking his hand.”

“You’re shaking his hand!” 

“No, I’m not.”

“This isn’t a discussion. This is the rule of law. Obey or be banished from the party. Do you wanna be banished?”

Mike crosses his arms and looks away. “No.” He whispers.

“Good.”

“Kids, that boy Steve’s here.” Karen yells from above, the boys perking up with a bit of hope. They waited (im)patiently for him to come down as he strolled in with a new layer of Fall clothes and a tired face.

“Well?” Mike asked, nervously.

“I’m sorry.” Steve said, making them frown. “I walked around those woods for six hours, and then I even waited to see if she would show up at my place. Nothing.” 

“Shit…” Dustin mutters.

“Well, thanks for looking.” Mike said, genuinely. 

Steve nods in reply, shifting his weight around on his throbbing feet before asking, “How’s Sinclair?”

“We were just about to go check.” Dustin answers first, moving around them both to grab his backpack.

“We are?” Mike asked, confused. 

“Yes, Mike. We’re doing this now. We’re going to get Lucas. And then we’re gonna find Eleven. Alright?” He sighs, before looking at the oldest teen. “Steve, thank you for looking, we’ll take it from here.”

Steve straightens out his posture immediately as the kid starts trying to leave without. “Hey, hey, hey–��� He maneuvers in front of him, blocking him from the stairs. “This wasn’t a one time thing. I’m staying with you guys.”

“Dustin, come on, man, we talked about this.” Mike said, turning their roles around. His friend’s shoulder sagged and he muttered something under his breath. 

Steve takes a quiet inhale before addressing him. “Look, Henderson, I know you hate me, you have every right to hate me, but right now you need all the help you can get.” His jaw tightens. “Not to mention, whoever’s responsible for all this doesn’t mind getting their hands dirty. They’re not going to care that you guys are twelve year old boys. You need me, whether you like it or not.”

Dustin lets out a long, angry exhale as Mike locks his gaze with the older boy.

“Now, let’s go get Lucas, let’s find Eleven, find the gate, and pray that it leads to your sister and Will.” Steve finishes, and the curly haired kid exhales again.

“Fine.” He huffs.

“Good. We’ll take my car. Will go to Lucas’ and then I’ll take us to the woods. Capish?”

“Capish.” They say, as they follow him out of the basement. 

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

|| THE OTHER SIDE ||

Will looked around the store wondering where they even began. His big doe eyes then turned to the teenager who pushed a shopping cart over to him. “What do we grab?”

“Whatever we can.” Steph says, grabbing a cart of her own with a smirk. “And obviously you don’t have to worry about the price.”

That got him to laugh as they migrated around the store, filling up with stuff they talked about. The teenager found herself starting with certain alcohol that she knew could be considered “flammable”. Some of the numbers were… extremely high and made her question people’s choices (And she thought the whiskey Steve and her drank at the Snow Ball was strong).

Thank god I never drank imported Vodka. She keeps filling her cart up, just as Will comes around the corner with something.

“Hey, hairspray’s flammable, right?” He asks, holding up a can.

“Uh, yeah. It is.”

He hums, taking the cap off and harmlessly spraying the air. “Huh. That’s probably not going to do much though.”

“Probably not.” She says, making him nod and was about to leave when an idea struck her. “Wait.” He stops. “I’m actually getting an idea. Whatever hairspray you can fit in that cart, do it.”

“You know how to build the trap?” He asked, hopeful.

“If I’m picturing this all out correctly, I know this is going to work. But we’re going to need a shit ton of stuff if it’s going to cover the whole place.”

“And where’s that place?”

“Remember that old building with the broken clock tower I took you to?” He nods. “I know that place like the back of my hand. If I’m picturing the trap right I think I know exactly how to set everything up.”

“And we’re going to need a lot?” 

“A hell lot.” She hopes her imagination won’t let her down on this one. She starts pushing her cart towards him and heads off for a new one while saying, “Keep grabbing everything flammable, I’m going to get some tools.”

“What kind of tools?” He asked, curiously.

“Basic tools. Hammer, screwdrivers, saw–”

“Saw?”

“Yeah. Saw.” 

“What’s the saw for?”

“‘Cause–” She turns around with a smirk. “It’s completely illegal, but a sawing off the front of a shotgun makes the impact more intense, right?”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Steve stayed a few steps behind the boys as they knocked on the door and awaited their fate; Which seemed dreary when Lucas saw who it was. 

“What do you want?” He snapped, and it wasn’t until Dustin slapped Mike in the arm he finally got his answer.

“I drew first blood, so…” He holds out his hand, Lucas’ eyes scanning him head to toe for any signs of a lie. 

The Sinclair sighs, thinking it over. “Okay, I’ll shake. On one condition.” He crosses his arms and stands tall. “We forget the weirdo and go straight to the gate.”

“Then the deal’s off!” Mike scoffs, and turns around to leave.

“Fine!”

“Fine!”

“No, no, not fine!” Dustin said, stopping Lucas from closing the door.

“Guys, seriously?” Steve said, blocking Mike from taking another step. “Stop acting like you’re six, and talk it out like your age.”

“Come on!” Dustin claps his hands together, tackling this head on. “Do you even remember what happened on the Bloodstone Pass?” He watches his friends stare in confusion and sighs. “We couldn’t agree on what path to take, so we split up the party and those trolls took us out one by one. And it all went to shit. And we were all disabled! So we stick together, no matter what!”

His little speech managed to knock some sense into them, and all seemed hopeful till…

“Yeah, I agree.” Lucas said, and gestured to everyone. “But this is the party, right here. The three of us.”

“El is one of us now.” Mike said, as he got an eye roll for a reply.

“Um, no, she’s not. Not even close! Never will be. She’s a liar, a traitor–”

“She was just trying to keep us safe! She didn’t mean to hurt you. It was an accident!”

He scoffs. “An accident?”

“All right, accident or not… admit it, it was a little awesome.” Dustin said, unintentionally digging a bigger hole in the ground for them.

Lucas blinks (with Steve face palming in the background). “Awesome?”

“Yeah, she threw you in the air with her mind!”

“I could have been killed!”

“Which is exactly why we need her. She’s a weapon!” Mike explains. “Do you seriously wanna fight the Demogorgon with your wrist rocket? That’s like R2-D2 going to fight Darth Vader. We’re no use to Will and Steph if we’re dead.”

Lucas shakes his head, clearly frustrated, clearly fed up. “If you two and Steve wanna waste your time looking for a traitor, go ahead, ’cause I’m not spending my time on her anymore. No way! I’m going to the gate. I’m gonna find them.”

And the door slams shut.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

It took a bit to get up to Bloomington but they made it; That’s all that matters. Hopper parked his car on the gravel driveway, him and Joyce getting out and cautiously moving towards the front door of the residence. It took several knocks until a petite blonde woman answered. She seemed on her toes just like they were.

“Can I help you?” 

“Hi, we’re looking for Terry Ives. Does she live here?” Hopper asks.

Her brown eyes darted between them. “Who’s asking?”

“The Hawkins chief of police.” He flashes her his badge long enough to give her a good look.

“And… you want to talk to my sister?”

“Well, if your sister’s Terry Ives, then, yeah, we do.”

She frowns, looking a bit apologetic. “Okay, well, you can come in, but if you want Terry to tell you anything, you’re about five years too late.” She lets him and guides them to the living room. “Terry, you have some visitors.”

Joyce presence herself in front of the woman in the rocking chair, the similarities in their features were enough to tell the Byers that these two were definitely sisters. 

“Hello. My name’s Joyce Byers. Uh, this is Hopper.” She begins, the woman turning her distant gaze off the TV towards them. “We drove over from Hawkins. Um, you see, uh, my son… he’s been missing for almost a week now, and, um, we were wondering if we could talk to you about your daughter, Jane? If there’s anything that you could tell us about when she was taken…”

“What was your relationship with Dr. Brenner? You guys keep in touch?” Hopper asked, observing from the doorway carefully.

Joyce fumbles with trying to unfold the picture for a second. “This is, uh... this is him. This is Will. Uh, you may have seen him on... on the news. Uh…”

Hopper casts his gaze to the relative, confused/concerned. “What’s wrong with her?”

“I told you, you’re wasting your time.” She replies, sadly.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

|| THE OTHER SIDE ||

The four shopping carts rolled inside with ease, the duo looking around the place, that long been abandoned in their world, that they found use for. Stephanie nods after a while, the trap she thought of earlier was now fully registered.

“Yep. This is the place.” She said, while slinging the guns off her shoulders and putting them to the side.

“Where do we set it up?” Will asked, still not picturing it like she is.

“Everywhere. Let’s leave no square inch untouched.” She locks eyes with him. “And then we’re going to practice, over and over so we don’t get caught in them. Alright?”

“Right.”

“Good. Let’s get everything out. There’s no telling when the Demogorgon will return.” They’re both running out of time. For their sake, their sanity, they have to find a way out soon or they’re done for. So, thus starts the grueling process of trap making.

Will made sure to listen carefully as she explained what needed to be where – where to pour the gasoline, where to stick the trip wire, where to hide, etc. And they did practice like she said, in one area that was a pool of alcohol and gasoline just below where the broken bell tower stood, she showed him where to step on the bricks in order to not get any liquid on them. It was hard, especially when he knows they’re going to be running instead of walking when the Demogorgon does show up, but damn it to hell! He will not mess this up. He’s going to stay calm and stick to the plan that he wholeheartedly believes is going to work. 

Will finds himself setting aside another Molotov cocktail, before looking over at his companion. She was in the zone trying to saw their shotguns in half, which is a very hefty task on hand. The silence was starting to get to him a bit though, and there was still a… lingering question that was bothering him and wanted to ask, but should he? Or was it safer to make something else up? He ponders as he grabs an empty bottle before deciding to just come out and say it. What’s the worst she can do? Say no?

“Hey, Steph?”

“Yeah?” She said, eyes still trained on what’s in her hands.

“I have to ask again, but…” Should he back out? Should he–

“What is it?”

Well, here goes nothing. He takes a deep, quiet breath and says, “What happened between you and Steve?” She immediately pauses her actions, making him shrink quickly, like he was flinching away from someone’s attack. “You don’t have to tell me, I know it’s a touchy–”

“It’s fine. Really.” She meets his gaze. “I think I probably should talk about it with someone. Especially after the whole… floating-mind game I was in. I saw… a lot of memories of him.”

He fiddles with his hands nervously, curiously. “So…”

Stephanie sighs, her face flashing with pain. “I don’t know. One day he just pretended he didn’t know me.”

He blinks. “Really?”

“Yeah.” Her eyes grow distant as she recalls everything. “I remember that day clearly. We would always meet up in the doorways at school, and he wasn’t there that day. Mind you, we were both getting older, more responsibilities were being added onto us; And it was around the same time Steve was really getting into sports, so I thought maybe he was talking to one of his coaches.”

Another sigh before continuing, “Eventually, I found him, ran up to him, and I noticed he looked a bit sad so I asked him if he was okay. He told me he didn’t know who I was.” She catches the boy starting to look as hurt as she was. “I thought at first, maybe he was upset at me over something, so I tried all day to ask him what was up, and when the school day ended he just told me he has no idea who I am and why I’m bothering him and… left. We’ve never spoken again after that. Our… ten years of friendship ended just like that.”

Well…

Jesus H. Christ.

Will had no idea how to respond to this.

“Wow. What a…” He shook his head. “What a douchebag.”

She chuckles dryly. “Yeah, well, he wasn’t always like that. He’s not like what he is now. Trust me.” Then there was a bit of anger in her next words. “I suspected his parents might have threatened him with something to break our friendship. But I don’t know. Could be wrong about that.”

Will gives her a confused look. “What do you mean by that?”

She frowns, but it wasn’t directed at the said teenager. “Let me tell you a bit about Steve. He comes from a line of… rich people. Generational wealth. And due to this they have certain standards. Standards that Steve has to follow to the T.”

He blinks again, thinking. “But…” Another head shake. “But Mike’s family is not like that. I mean I know they’re not as rich as Steve’s, but still.”

“Well, a lot has to do with how Mike’s parents were raised. Not to mention, even though it might not seem like it sometimes, Karen and Ted do love each other in some way. And they really love their kids, and want nothing but the best for them. Tough and nurturing, in a healthy way.” Steph’s frown deepens. “But as for Steve’s, that nurturing and toughness goes a bit differently. Not exactly healthy.”

“How so?” Will asked, on the edge but invested in this tale.

Steph gives it some thought on how she should move forward. She had really only one story that would make sense of it all (or at least it wasn’t as violent as some of the other ones). She sets her stuff down, giving him her full attention now.

“I might have mentioned it to Dustin, or you guys, how I met Steve. Right?” She asks, waiting to confirm.

“Yeah. You said it was school.”

“But I never told anyone the full story. Not even Dustin or my mom knows.” She bites her lip and adverts her eyes for a split second. “Not even Steve knows.”

He tilts his head. “How does that work?”

She takes a deep breath. “It was probably a few weeks before the school year ended, and my class was to make cards to celebrate Mother’s day that was coming up. I remember being really excited about it. I drew my card, school ended and now I had to wait to be picked up. My mom mentioned earlier she might run behind because of work, but no biggie, I didn’t mind waiting.”

She could still picture it, holding her card close and humming a tune to herself as she waited and waited outside in front of the entrance of the Elementary school (The good old days, she calls it).

Stephanie was fiddling with her own hands now as she continued, “Kids started leaving one-by-one, and soon as I was the only one left. Or so I thought. I… suddenly heard this arguing, it was very loud, very terrible sounding, and… curiously I went to check it out, and there he was. Him and his mom. And… she’s yelling at him, telling him how crappy the card was, and how it should’ve been better, or this what he should have done, etc. And–” She swallows, hands tightening together. “Steve’s on the verge of tears, and he’s trying to come up with an explanation for her, and he promises he’ll do better and… um…”

“What?” He says, a bit scared for what was next. Especially when he saw the haunting look on her face.

“She… slaps him. Right across the face. And it was one of those slaps you know it hurt just by the sound of it.” His eyes widened. “Then, she grabbed him by the arm and dragged him back to the car.” She sighs and shifts in her seat. “I was so shocked by it, ‘cause I never witnessed something like that before, so…”  She shakes her head with a small groan. “God. I think at first I… I befriended him because it was out of pity, but that soon went away quickly. We became two peas in the pod in just one day. Never, ever alone.”

“That’s…” He was lost for words. “That’s so awful– So wrong. W-Why would they think that’ll make things better?”

She shrugs. “I don’t know.”

“But…” His fingers clenched his pants legs like a nervous tick. “D-Did they do anything else? We’re they always like that?”

Stephanie’s face morphed into total sadness now. “Listen, there’s a lot of stories I can’t tell you about his parents. They’re not exactly… kid friendly, to put it lightly. But yeah, they’ve done a lot of that, and a hell lot more.”

“Jesus.”

“But that’s why we worked together so well, Will. We complimented each other. He had shitty parents, and I was dealing with a shitty dad. We both helped each other navigate around that.” And ain’t that the truth. “But, besides all that negative stuff, he was a great kid. Me? I was a quiet kid, like you. I kept to myself most of the time, but Steve helped me come out of my shell. As for Steve? I helped him live a little, I helped him have a life that his parents never wanted him to have.”

“T-Then they should be grateful!” He says, sitting up straighter, more lively in his seat. “Y-You befriended their son. You were always there for him.”

“Will–”

“You helped him. Why should they be so upset about all this?”

She gives him a pitiful look for his sweet little heart he had. “Because I wasn’t perfect.” Her throat suddenly felt like it wanted to close up. “I wasn’t rich, I was a wild card. I had a sad, workaholic mother who was trying to keep us afloat, and a father that gambling 24/7 to the point we almost went bankrupt. There were a lot of cons in their eyes compared to the pros, which is probably zero.”

Despite the reasons, Will still couldn’t understand. She did nothing wrong! They should be mad at her. “But you were their son’s friend. That shouldn’t matter.”

She smiles just a tad and says, “You’re so sweet. I wish more people in the world could be like you. That’s why…” How does she cheer him up? “You gotta marry someone who is as kind hearted as you. So the legacy lives on.”

He snorts (Bingo!). “You sound like my mom.”

“Well, she’s not wrong.” She smirks. “But… I’ll tell you something funny about Steve. Maybe you can use it against him since he’s dating Mike’s sister.”

“And what’s that?” He asks, skeptical. 

“Guess what his middle name is?”

“Mmm… I don’t know. What?”

She grins. “Steven Grant Harrington.”

“Steven Grant–” He gasps. “Captain America!”

“Yep.” Steph chuckles. “Captain America. I remember when Steve told me his name, I started laughing. He was confused and I told him the truth. At first he was a little mad, but when I explained who Captain America was he seemed cool with it.”

“That’s awesome.”

“If you ever want to tease him, just call him Grant.”

“Oh, I’ll definitely remember that.” He finds himself smiling too and picking back up the empty bottle to continue his work. “My name’s Jacob.”

She perks up. “Jacob?”

“Named after my mom’s father.”

“That’s sweet. I’m Elizabeth.”

“Elizabeth?”

“My mom is a huge Elizabeth Taylor fan. I’m honestly surprised that wasn’t my first name.”

“Where does Stephanie come from?”

“Grandmother. At least that’s what she told me. But who knows? Knowing my mom… she got it off some cheesy magazine about cats.”

That seemed to do the trick for cheering him up because Will broke into a belly laugh that she hasn’t heard in a while. To her, besides “Separate Ways”, this was probably the best music she’s heard in a long time.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

“This is weird without Lucas.” Dustin finally said after a long period of silence in the car. It felt weird, super weird not having all of his friends together at once. It already felt weird when Will disappeared, but now there’s no Lucas? Not much of a group anymore.

“He should’ve shaken my hand.” Mike said, just as Steve scolded him not to put his feet on his dashboard.

“He’s just jealous.”

Mike’s face morphed into confusion as he turned his whole body around to look in the backseat. “What are you talking about?” 

Dustin sighs. “Sometimes, your total obliviousness just blows my mind. He’s your best friend, right?”

“Yeah... I mean, I-I don’t know.”

“It’s fine. I get it. I didn’t start going to our school until the fourth grade.” He looks away, not wanting Mike to see the hurt in his eyes. Except Steve did. He caught his gaze in the rearview mirror and frowned. 

Damn it.

He forgot Steve knew the reason he didn’t go to public school right away thanks to his sister. 

He tries to act tough and tell him off. “I don’t need your pity Harrington, alright?” The tone made Steve break away and Mike give him the strangest look ever again.

Damn.

Damn this situation. 

Dustin sighs. “He had the advantage of living next door. But none of that matters. What matters is that he is your best friend.” He swallows. “And then this girl shows up and starts living in your basement, and all you ever want to do is pay attention to her.”

“That’s not true.” Mike reassures him. 

“Yes, it is. And you know it. And he knows it. But no one ever says anything until you both start punching and yelling at each other like goblins with intelligence scores of zero. Now everything’s weird.”

“He’s not my best friend.”

Dustin laughs. “Yeah, right.”

Mike sighs, reaching over to tap in the arm to get his attention. “I mean, he is, but so are you. And so is Will.”

“Can’t have more than one best friend.”

“Says who?”

“Says logic.”

“Well, I call bull on your logic, because you’re my best friend, too.”

Dustin notices his genuine expression and smiles, satisfied with the reply. “Okay.”

“Okay.” 

“Uh, hey, guys.” Steve interrupts, slowing the car down a little as the past pays a local grocery store. All eyes were on the front, spotting how the automatic doors were shattered and there were boxes of food laying around the parking lot filled with men in blue. “So… I’m assuming that might be…?”

Mike nods. “Uh... definitely. We’re going in the right direction then.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

The sister, Becky, brought them to the kitchen table, offering them cigarettes and some water while promising to explain. “She was a part of some study in college.”

“MK Ultra?” Hopper asks, getting a nod.

“Yeah, that’s the one.” She sighs. “Was, uh, started in the ’50s. By the time Terry got involved, it was supposed to be ramping down, but the drugs just got crazier. Messed her up good.”

“This was the CIA that ran this?”

Becky stared at for a second before a small smirk bestowed on her face. “You and Terry would’ve gotten along. ‘The Man’, with a big capital ‘M’.” Another sigh. “They’d pay... you know, a couple hundred bucks to people like my sister, give ’em drugs, psychedelics. LSD, mostly. And then they’d strip her naked and put her in these isolation tanks.”

“Isolation tanks?” Joyce asked after sparing a look with Hopper.

“Yeah.” She nods and stares explaining with her hands. “These big bathtubs, basically, filled with salt water, so you can float around in there. You lose any sense of, uh… sense and feel nothing, see nothing. They wanted to expand the boundaries of the mind. Real hippie crap. I... I mean, it’s not like they were forcing her to do any of this stuff. The thing is, though, is that she didn’t know she was pregnant at the time.”

“Jane.” Joyce whispers, getting another nod. She takes in a sharp inhale and asks, “Do you have any pictures of her?”

Becky paled and made sure they were both listening carefully. “I don’t think you guys understand. Terry miscarried in the third trimester.” Her words were like a knife to their heart, catching them both completely off guard.

“What?” Hopper said without realizing it at first.

“Come.” She says, standing up and making them follow. She takes them to a bedroom, a baby room, filled with a crib, toys, and anything else a newborn needs. “She keeps all of this up. Been doing it for 12 years.” She takes a seat, allowing them to walk around and observe. “Terry, uh, pretends like Jane is real, like she’s gonna come home someday. Says she’s special. Born with ‘abilities’.”

“Abilities?” Joyce asked, confused.

“You read any Stephen King?” Becky asks, surprising them again. She laughs. “You guys look scared, actually. I mean, it’s all make-believe.”

“What... what kind of abilities?”

“Telepathy, telekinesis… You know, shit you can do with your mind. That’s why the big, bad Man stole Jane away. Her baby’s a weapon, off fighting the commies.” She takes a long puff of her cigarette, frowning. “You know, the doctors all say it’s a coping mechanism. You know, to deal with the guilt.”

Joyce locks eyes with Hopper again before continuing, “Do you think there is any chance she could be telling the truth? Ab-About having had the kid.”

“There is no birth certificate, nothing from the hospital. Doctors and nurses all confirm that she miscarried.”

“Yeah, but that could’ve been covered up.” Hopper says, straightening up. “Right?”

Becky smirks again. “Like I said, you and Terry would’ve gotten along.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

After Jonathan explained what Hopper had found to Nancy, sure enough, his mother’s hunch was right. The eldest Wheeler needed some answers, and wasn’t going home until she got them. So he took up his mother’s suggestion and decided to stock up on ammo, getting ready for whatever comes next. 

“Monster Hunting?” He teased, as they came out of the store with a few boxes. He was poking fun at her response to the clerk asking why they were buying so much, and could help but laugh.

Nancy cracks a smile as she pops the trunk. “You know, last week… I was shopping for a new top I thought Steve might like. It took me and Barb all weekend. It seemed like life or death, you know? And... and now–”

“You’re shopping for shotgun shells with Jonathan Byers.”

“Yeah.” She chuckles.

“What’s the weirdest part? Me or the ammo?”

She gives him a playful look and says, “You. It’s definitely you.” Then their little moment was immediately ruined when someone honked their horn and rolled their window down to shout:

“Hey, Nance! Can’t wait to see your movie.” 

The highschoolers laughed as they drove off quicker, stunning them both.

“What the hell was that?” Jonathan asked, as she shrugged. But then it hit her. “What?” She suddenly takes off. “Wait! Where are you going? Nancy!”

It didn’t take long for him to catch up, finding her staring up at the local theater sign. The movie that was playing was called: “ALL THE RIGHT MOVES”, and was followed by a very unpleasant word mixed into her name that was written in bright red spray paint. 

“Oh, Jesus.” He mutters, but before he could apply any comfort, she stormed off again. “Nancy!” He followed her again, this time down an alleyway where he saw all the douchebags of high school were standing around and giggling. 

“What the hell’s wrong with you?” Nancy yells, getting their attention. 

Tommy, the one who had the spray paint can, takes center stage with a cocky look and attitude. “Well if isn’t the star of the show.” His eyes then trail to Jonathan. “And the devil himself. How we all doing?”

Nancy grits her teeth and smacks him across the face, the crowd ‘ooh-ing’ as he takes it like a champ. “What the fuck are you doing? Why would you write that?”

“‘Cause it’s the truth. You… have one fight with your Boyfriend and suddenly he’s not good enough for you, huh?”

“What?”

“What did you say to him? What was so bad that he suddenly isn’t showing up to school anymore? Or…” He jerks his thumb in Jonathan’s way. “How you just decided that the weirdo is better than the King? Come on.”

“Seriously?” Nancy scoffs. “You think I’m the reason that Steve’s not showing up at school? Unlike you, I’ve actually called him and even went to his house, to which he told me specifically that he was fine. Why hasn’t he been showing up? I don’t know! Maybe because he had to attend an old friend’s funeral yesterday?”

Carol snickers and laughs. “The nerd? Stephanie fucking Henderson? You really think those two were ever friends? He just felt sorry for how fucked up her family was and took pity.”

“Yeah.” Tommy says, grinning. “A drug addicted mother, a father arrested for illegal gambling; Two ‘fantastic’ people managed to fucked their own son over and give him all kinds of birth defects and diseases. I’m surprised your family gives them so much pity.”

“W-Wait…” Nancy pauses to try to wrap her head around what she had just heard. “Claudia…” What? “Ms. Henderson isn’t a drug addict.”

“Awe.” Carol pretends to pout. “Looks like Steve’s parents haven’t gotten close to you yet. What a shame.”

“His parents have a lot of dirt on a lot of people.” Tommy said in a sickening way. “Especially the Hendersons. There’s so much that this town doesn’t know about them, it’s shocking. Stephanie has a shit ton.” He chuckles. “God, the Harringtons can bury her to the center of the Earth with all the dirt they have on her.”

Then they all started laughing at the cruel joke it was, and Nancy was ready to go off when Jonathan took her by the arm and started stringing her away.

“Let’s go.” He says, calmly, but the bullies weren’t done yet.

“You know what, Byers? I’m actually kind of impressed.” Tommy says, trailing them. “I always took you for a queer, but I guess you’re just a screw up like your father.” He shoves him forward. “Oh, yeah. Yeah, that fucking house full of screw-ups. You know, we shouldn’t be surprised. A bunch of screw-ups in your family.”

“Tommy, stop.” Nancy hisses, as he shoves Jonathan again.

“I mean, your mom– I’m not even surprised what happened to your brother.”

“Tommy! Shut up!”

“I’m sorry I have to be the one to tell you, but the Byers, their family, it’s a disgrace to the entire–”

And that was the final straw as Jonathan turns around and sucker punches Tommy in the face. It took a brief second for him to recognize he got hit before all hell broke loose. So much so…

That this day ended with one of them in handcuffs.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

The leaves crushed beneath their feets as they continue their trek along the train tracks, occasionally yelling the girl’s name. From where the trashed grocery store was, it laid directly near the forest that they’ve been wandering for a while now – staying in the direction they think she went. It shouldn’t be that hard then, right? Wrong. Going in one freaking direction didn’t seem that bad, but the tall trees didn’t seem to end any time soon. And what if she broke off? What if she went some other way? Then what? How many days will it take for them to comb the area until they find something? 

This all feels so… pointless. Steve admits in his thought. I mean, he probably combed at least nothing less than a quarter of forest last night, and he didn’t find anything! Nothing to point him in the right direction. And now, he and the boys actually had a lead and… nothing. Nothing at all. As much as the tiny voice in his head telling him to stop and go home, he knows Eleven’s the only way of finding their loved ones. 

And that is if she wants to help us after all this. He frowns, thinking about that. What if they find her and she blows them off? Then what? Do they just truly forget about her and move on? Nah… 

He knows that’s not the right answer either. But what if–

“Should we split up?” Mike asked, knocking the teenager back into reality.

“Absolutely not.” Steve immediately says, as they all slow down to talk. “Like I told you guys, whoever’s involved in this is not afraid to get their hands dirty.”

The kid sighs, remembering. “Yeah. You’re right. I forgot…”

“But what if we do?” Dustin said, shrugging.

Steve squares up and stands his ground quickly, prepared for an argument again. “Henderson–”

“No, seriously. What if we do? We can get it done quicker.”

“No. No splitting up.”

“We’ll get done–”

“I don’t care if it’ll get done quicker. We’re staying together. End of story.” Steve finishes, as he starts walking again alongside Mike.

“Then what do you expect us to do, Steve?” Dustin snaps, stopping them all once more.

“What?”

“You said it yourself, you checked the woods last night and didn’t find a thing! And that was just around the junkyard.”

“And your point being?”

“Yeah, man. What’s this about?” Mike asked, confused.

“This place is huge!” The curly haired boy yelled, throwing his arms out. “And you think just the three of us are going to cover it all today?”

Steve blinks, more puzzled by the question than the attitude. “Well… no. Of course not–”

“Then we should split up! Cover more ground.”

“Henderson–”

“Look, it’ll be easy. You continued this way, Mike goes left, I go right, and then–”

“Oh, my god– we are NOT splitting up!” Steve explodes, silencing him. “You can argue with me all you want, but it’s not going to happen. We are going to keep looking together, or you can march your butt straight back to the car and we’re done. Got it?!”

The boys stay quiet, Steve’s flushed face turning normal before walking away, Mike on his heels once more.

Dustin chuckles dryly under his breath. “You’re so useless…”

“What was that?” Steve perked up, slowing down again.

“You’re useless. Here I am having a solution to our problem, and you don’t want to take it.”

The eldest scoffed. “I am not useless. And only turned down your ‘solution’ because it’s too dangerous.”

“So what if it’s dangerous? This whole thing has been dangerous since the beginning!” The boy yells, throwing his hands in the air. “Will and Phanie taking a gun, a girl with real life superpowers, fake bodies, other worlds leaking into ours– this whole thing has been dangerous! So we might as well continue dipping our toes into it!”

Mike cuts in quickly after noticing the tension in the teenager’s form. “Dustin, I know you determined to find Stephanie, but maybe–”

“No, Mike! No ‘Maybes’! We should be taking risks at this point! I mean–” Dustin groans. “God!” He points at the oldest. “You’re so fucking stupid! I-I don’t know how or why my sister ever cared for you. I don’t know why she still cares for you! It’s so… fucking bizarre!”

“Dude…”

His response made Steve scoff again, trying to play it cool. “What are you even talking about? She doesn’t care about me.”

“Oh, yeah?” Dustin said, hands on his hips to look stern. “Well… news flash Harrington, she does. Even after what you did, she still gave a damn about you.”

“I…” What is he going on about? “That’s… that’s not possible.”

“Well, here then!” He digs around into his pocket, and fiercely tosses something at him. “Is that enough proof for you?” 

Steve manages to catch it before it hits him in the chest. Expecting something completely different, of course that gold chain with a red pendant catches him off guard. A gift he gave to her many years ago for her birthday… one that she still had.

She… kept this? He was so surprised he didn’t notice Dustin moving past him, beckoning for his friend to follow. Mike hesitates for a second, feeling empathy towards the older teen before he ends up leaving with his head hung low. His thumb brushes over the initials, swallowing hard as his heart clenches at the memories.

“Oh, yeah?” He shouts, turning around in their direction bitterly. “I’m still going to look for Eleven, you shitheads! And you’re going to regret going off on your own!” He doesn’t know why he half expected them to stop and turn around, but it was enough to make him cuss and go another way.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Joyce closed the car door a little more than she should have before covering her face with her trembling hands. This did… not go as planned as they thought.

“Hey…” Hopper interrupts her thoughts, softly. 

She sniffles. “What?”

“We’re gonna find him.”

“Yeah, like Terry found her daughter?”

He swallows, subtly, trying to keep it together – to be the strong one right now. “We’re close.”

She shakes her head. “B-But Tw-Twelve years? Twelve years she’s been looking for her and– oh god. Stephanie. W-We… we have to look for her too, and–”

“And then Jane shows up at Benny’s five nights ago, which means we’ve got a chance.” He inhales. “You know what I would give? For a chance? You know what I would give?”

“Hop–”

She was cut off by the sound of his walkie’s static, followed by Callahan’s voice. 

[ ‘Hey, Chief, you there? Hey, Chief?’ ]

He fishes it from his side, hitting the button. “Yeah, go ahead.”

[ ‘Yeah, a fight broke out here and–’ ]

Hopper bites his lip. “Cal, I don’t have time for this–”

[ ‘It’s Jonathan Byers.’ ]

Well that stopped him from hanging up. Him and Joyce both froze and looked at each other with confusion. 

[ ‘Uh, you haven’t seen Joyce, have you?’ ]

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

After shouting her name for a while, Mike nervously decided to ask, “Don’t you think that was a bit harsh?”

“What?” Dustin glances at him. “Do you think it was?”

“Uh… yeah.” He shrugs. “A little.”

“Well, I don’t.”

“Dude–” Mike stops them both. “Listen, I get it. You’re upset ‘cause he hurt your sister. But you don’t think it’s weird he’s helping us then?”

Dustin tilts his head, confused. “What do you mean?”

“Well…” How does he put this? “I mean, have you ever wondered why he stopped being friends with your sister? Like… did he have a reason for it?”

“Mike–” The warning starts.

“Here me out.” He holds his hands up. “What if he had to? What if he didn’t want to stop being friends but he had too? I mean, if he just broke the friendship because he hated her, then why is he here helping us? Have you ever thought of that?”

Well…

Of course not. 

His eyes widened at it, at the slim possibility that there may have been a reason for all this. But just as he says his friend’s name, Mike froze at a sound.

“Do you hear that?”

“What?”

“El!” Mike looks around, hopefully. “El!” 

But as the leaves kept rustling around, the sound getting closer, he had waited for the girl to come out from behind the trees and…

Totally not a pissed off Troy and James.

“Hey, there, Frogface.” Troy hissed, popping open his switchblade.

“Toothless.” James grinned maliciously. 

“Shit!” Dustin screams, hitting his friend in the arm to make him go. “Run, Mike! Run! Come on!”

The bullies take off after them yelling, “You’re dead, Wheeler. You’re dead, Henderson! DEAD!!”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Meanwhile, back at the police station, Nancy was waiting impatiently (Both wanting to leave, and wanting the front desk lady take forever to make an ice pack).

“Do you think we’ll be out of here soon?” She finally asked.

“You, yes. Him, no. He assaulted a police officer.” Flo explained, her reply was unsatisfying.

“Well, how long are you gonna keep him?”

“You and your boyfriend have big plans, do you?”

Nancy shakes her head and laughs. “He’s not my boyfriend.”

Flo gives her a look. “I think you better tell him that.”

“What?”

“Only love makes you that crazy, sweetheart.” Flo hands her the homemade ice pack. “And that damn stupid.”

When she leaves the words lingered in her head more than she thought they would have. She has a boyfriend for Christ’s sake! They shouldn’t be making her think too much about her and Jonathan’s relationship…

Right?

“Found some ice.” Nancy says, as she walks up to where he’s sitting – handcuffed to one of the officer’s desks. She smiles, trying to hide the thoughts as he locks eyes with her.

“Thanks.” He says, leaning into the ice pack as she holds up to his bruised side. It doesn’t take a genius to know that something was bothering her, prompting him to ask, “Everything okay?”

“Yeah.” She reassures him, reassures herself. “Everything’s fine.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

|| THE OTHER SIDE ||

“Everything okay?” Will asks, as he finishes loading the last of the ammo up when Stephanie reenters the building.

“Yeah. Everything’s fine.” She says, nodding. “Alright, the wire is set around the building. Whatever direction the Demogorgon comes from we’ll know. That should give us a good starting point towards a gate.”

“Right.” Just as he said that, their little decoy light flickered on and off rather quickly. They locked eyes with each other, the girl mouthing, ‘Be Ready.’

“I’m going to check a trap real quick.” Steph says the code word, before disappearing.

“Sounds good.” Will takes a deep breath, reminding himself to stay strong and not stray from their plan. We got this. We got this. It’s going to work, and we’re going home.

He turns away from the open space of the room, facing the wall. His eyes trail to the shotgun hidden by his feet, the light flickering again, telling him to start kneeling to the floor. He felt the hair on the back of his neck stick up, a low growl from somewhere behind him as he acts like he’s fixing the light to stay on. He felt the presence move closer and closer, he could hear the boney fingers cracking open, its face slowly doing the same. Just when he notices the shadow looming overing him, he shouts,

“STEPHANIE!”

The girl suddenly comes out of her hiding spot and slashes the nearest hand clean off. A shriek erupted from the beast, and just before it could retaliate, Will took a shot with the gun – officially starting their trap. Will took shot after shot, while Steph swung the axe into places she could get, ultimately backing the beast into some wiring, evidently knocking it over temporarily. 

“Let’s go!” She shouted, and they were off on a run… and soon was the Demogorgon. 

Just like they had practiced, they ran across the stepping stones with ease, heading for the stairs as the beast bathed itself in a concoction of liquid death. About a quarter of the way up, she swung the axe high and skillfully hacked some rope in half, her and Will covering their heads with their elbows to protect themselves from the raining shards of glass and nail from the tarp they put up. The Demogorgon shrills again and tries to navigate through the sharp storm.

Will takes a good look back at the girl and asks, “You ready?”

“Yep. Let’s finish this.” She replies, getting a nod and a flash of determination as they continue to run all the way to the top. 

The Demogorgon was met with Molotov cocktail after Molotov cocktail, courtesy of the Byers boy, bidding enough time for Steph to slip by to the other side of the tower without falling. With the rope in her hand, she signals the boy she’s done, and switches roles with him. Dropping the axe and taking the hand gun from her side and starts firing. Will takes this chance to move away, grabbing the other end of the rope and begin entangling it.

Their plan was to trip it over the edge, falling back below to the toxic pool – but I guess cutting off its hand seemed to fuel its rage as the tripping technique doesn’t seem to be effecting it like they hope. The Demogoron thrashed its good arm around, managing to nick Will in the bicep.

“Will!” Steph shouts, her worries making her loosen her grip. She almost gets sliced as well, having just enough to react and jump backwards. The rope slips from her hands, her body stumbling into the wall, the beast taking an opportunity to charge. She scramblings out of the way, running to the other corner to scoop up the shotgun they placed there, and fires away.

“Stephanie!” Will yells, scaredly. No. This wasn’t the plan. They need to get that thing to fall or they can’t finish it off. But how? Their tripping plan didn’t work? Come on, come on, come on! Think! What else?

His eyes frantically looked around, they had weapons, they had rope, what else? And that’s when he finally noticed it. 

The bell! He mentally gasps, getting an idea. “Stephanie!!” He shouts her name, and starts running to scoop up the discarded axe. “Get as close to the edge as you can!!”

Steph didn’t question it, knowing she didn’t have many options left in store. She starts aiming directly at the face, hoping her shots make it as she stands her ground. If she gets hurt by the Demogorgon, she gets hurt. Trusting her little partner in crime, she kept pelting it until she noticed where its footing was, and took another shot in its mouth. Then, using all the strength she could, she uses the butt of the gun to strike it, its heels dipping right over the edge–

Will lets out a yell of frustration as he swings the axe right into the rope that was holding the bell up. Snapping and dropping almost immediately, it manages to clip the Demogorgon, sending it free falling to the floor. It screams all the way down, the two of them meeting to look at their results. The pair watches as the beast tries clawing the broken bell of its lower half – splashing the alcohol and gasoline around, re-bathing itself in it.

Without muttering a word to one another, Stephanie digs out a lighter, switching it on; No hesitation as she lets it slip out of her fingers. The impact of the lighter caused the place to shake a little, the heat from the flames were so intense that she ended up shielding the boy’s face when it landed. 

Its scream turned up by a hundred as they made it down the stairs, carefully avoiding the flames until they came to a safe spot. Sure enough, the Demogorgon was definitely Barbequing now. They could smell the burnt flesh, its discolored blood spilling out, and becoming weaker and weaker, all as they watched with disgust on their faces.

Fill with unexplained rage, Stephanie, who had one last load in the chamber, takes a step forward. Then another… then another… then another, the flames itching to get her too. The Demogorgon’s hand flopped around on the ground in its poor attempts to get her, its mouth opening for one last weak scream–

She sticks the short barrel in the center of it, the shells doing its job as the trigger pops. 

Droplets doused her face, letting the gun fall along with its head, the creature officially not moving anymore.

Now they’re outside, the flames still could be seen through the murky stained glass window. The two of them just stared at it, dirty clothes and tired eyes, stomach grumbling from their worked up appetite. However, they weren’t done just yet.

“Just in case?” Will broke the ice first, looking at her with a blank expression that she returns.

“Just in case.” She repeats, before fishing out another lighter. “Care to do the honors?”

He takes it with his bruised hand, flickering it on and watching it for a second before throwing it at the foot of the building. The line of gasoline they poured around it erupted like fireworks, like…

Like it was their grand finale. A big old ‘Fuck You’ to this shitty place.

But despite the wave of emotions, the one of disgust, then nothingness… It soon ended with them laughing and crying of pure relief that they could finally breathe in a place like this.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Steve was this close to picking a fight with a freaking oak tree. He knew he shouldn’t get mad, I mean… Dustin did have a point about splitting up, but he knew he couldn’t risk that. He saw whomever these people were not afraid to get their hands dirty, and couldn’t risk anything happening to these kids but…

Jesus.

Dustin was really pissing him off. But he also wasn’t pissed off? The necklace he threw at him, the very one he gifted to the older Henderson all those years ago, the one he was for sure had been thrown in the trash at this point, was now in the palm of his hand, was fucking taunting him now?! I mean, Steve kept a box of things that he got on his and Steph’s adventures, but that was him. He thought after breaking her heart at school, he was sure that she would have trashed everything he’s given her over the years.

I guess he was wrong about that.

He rubbed his face with his hands, biting his lip as guilt started creeping back. It was guilt about their friendship, but there was also some that came from the boys he decided to freaking abandon moments ago.

Abandon. He just abandoned those kids because he was mad! Them being assholes or not, he should’ve been the grown up here and stood his ground despite if it meant potentially strangling Henderson. I mean what if something happens to them? How the hell would he explain that to their parents?

He completely stops, mentally slapping himself. “God. What the fuck am I thinking?”

Just as Steve was about to turn around and go looking, he heard something. He carefully looks around, starting to think he imagines it until he swears there was a person like shadow casting out from behind a nearby tree.

“Eleven?” He takes a hopeful small step forward. “I know that’s you. I can see your shadow.” That statement was enough to confirm it when the shadow moved slightly and the leaves rustled quietly. “Hey, can you come out? I just want to talk.”

But what did he expect? Just for her to come out and run into his arms? No. Of course not. However she was right there, just four steps ahead, and he’s not losing her this time.

“Listen, I’m not mad, okay? And I’m not just saying that so you can come out. I mean it. And…” How does he word this? “I don’t know why you chose to mess up the compass, you clearly had a reason, a reason I kind of agree with Wheeler, I think you wanted to protect us. Why? From? I don’t know, but I want to know. You have to tell me, you have to tell us.”

Please say something. Or move a bit so I know you’re acknowledging me. But neither of that happens, so he keeps going.

“I promise you, none of us are going to be angry. But you have to understand, time is of the essence right now, we have to find Stephanie, we have to find Will. So…” He knows his voice trembled at the end, but who cares. Maybe the honesty will help his case. “Please. Will you come out? Come out and talk to me? Please, Eleven?”

It’s so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Or in this case…

Screaming.

Steve’s head snapped in the direction of where he just came from, the familiarity of the screams made his stomach drop.

“Shit.” He mutters, looking one last time at the tree before taking off, hoping he isn’t too late for whatever reason they’re screaming for. Him running away was the missing chance of him seeing the girl’s gaze on him with a frightful face, wondering too what is happening to her friends.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

The boys were running out of steam fast. It didn’t take long until their bullies had surrounded them, just off a trail that wraps around the whole quarry. With their stomach turning, and their hearts pounding in their ears, they scooped up any “weapons” they could find for defense.

“Stay back! Don’t come any closer!” Mike said, before chucking a rock at James.

The bully laughed at the terrible aim. “Nice throw, numbnuts.”

Dustin, in one last attempt to fight them off, comes full swinging at Troy with his stick – a complete fail too. Now, he was struggling to break free from his hold, as the switchblade was placed just under his chin, causing him to freak out.

“Let him go!” Mike yells, urgently. “Let him go!”

“Stay back, or I cut him!” Troy snaps.

“What do you want?!”

“I want to know how you did it!”

“How I did what?”

“I know you did something to me. Some nerdy science shit to make me do that!”

Mike almost rolled his eyes at the statement. “You mean piss your pants?”

Dustin, being Dustin, replies with, “Our friend has superpowers, and she squeezed your tiny bladder with her mind.”

“Shut up!” Troy grits his teeth, bringing the blade closer to his face. “I think I should save Toothless here a trip to the dentist. Help him lose the rest of his baby teeth.”

“Let him go.” Mike says again. “Let him go!”

“I’ll let him go, sure. But first... it’s your turn.”

“My turn for what?”

“Wet yourself.”

“What?”

“Jump…” Troy’s eyes gesture to the open water below. “Or Toothless here gets an early trip to the dentist.”

“NO!!” Dustin shouts, shaking his head, trying to wiggle out of the hold. “Stop! No! No!”

“Or I’ll cut him right now!” He continues, the blade now resting right on his lips, causing his hostage to whimper.

Mike shook with anger, but he had no choice. He didn’t want to be the cause of his friend getting hurt. “All right, just hold on!” He says, looking between the bullies as he starts walking away. “Hold on!”

“Mike, don’t do it. I don’t need my baby teeth, Mike! Mike, seriously, don’t!” His friend pleas, but he’s not listening as he gets closer and closer to the edge, stopping just as his toes went past the line.

With his big brown eyes he looks down at the blue water and wonders what hitting that would feel like. The fall was what? 50 feet? 70? Maybe a hundred? Would he even survive this? Would he never see any of his friends or family again? He hears Dustin pleading with him once more, and almost takes a step back, a step back to maybe striking up a deal with Troy; But would he even listen? Maybe jumping really was the only option here, so…

“Troy, I don’t think this is a good idea, man.” James says, a bit scared at the idea, yet his friend blows him off.

“Mike, don’t!” Dustin screams, as Mike takes a deep breath and starts closing his eyes, bracing himself for whatever awaits him below.

“Dentist’s office opens in five–”

This is for Dustin.

“Four!”

I’m sorry everyone.

“Three!”

Say Hi to Will and Steph for me.

“Two!”

Dustin yells his name.

“One!”

Just as Mike lets his foot slip down for the descent he felt himself get yanked backwards by his collar…

Someone else using the momentum to take his place.

He had enough time to stop himself from tumbling to see him plummeting into the Quarry.

“STEVE!!” Mike yells at the top of his lungs, everyone else staring in shock before running over to the edge. Now, everyone present expected to find the teenager’s body crashing into the water, or hear some kind of scream on the way down, yet instead…

They see the teenager panicking at how he found himself stopping in mid air like he could suddenly fly.

“Holy shit.” Dustin said, blue orbs blown wide just seconds before Steve started floating back towards them.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa!” The Harrington spewed, limbs frantically moving. He continued his descent up and up, right over the four boys and landing semi-gently on the ground.

“Steve?!” Mike said, surprised (and relief blooming onto his face).

He shot straight up in the sitting position, his hair a mess, his eyes big like saucers, his heart pounding like a never ending drum. What the heck just happened? “How the hell did I…?”

And right on cue, like you could hear boss music play as Eleven was storming over, her red wig gone and dirtied face full of rage. She quickly blew James off his feet, and snapped Troy’s arm like a twig. The boy cried and El told them to go. The two bullies waste no time to leave, their tails tucked between their legs as Dustin eggs them on.

“Yeah, that’s right! You better run!” He yells, a shit eating grin blooming onto his face. “She’s our friend and she’s crazy! You come back here and she’ll kill you! You hear me? She’ll kill you, you sons of bitches. She’ll kill you!”

“You think she would?” Mike asked, half rhetorical, half serious. 

He shrugs. “I don’t know. Maybe? I was just saying that to scare them.”

“I wouldn’t let that get that far, alright?” Steve says, looking at them with amusement also. “You guys okay?”

“Okay?” Mike says, helping him get up. “Dude, you took my place!”

“Yeah, well, I would do it again if I–” He trails off, just as he notices Eleven’s knees buckling. “Hey– Hey! Eleven!” The boys rush over to the unconscious girl. “Eleven?”

“Is she okay? Why did she faint?”

“She might have overdid it. Eleven? Hey? Can you hear us? El?”

Eventually, She cracks her lids open slowly, finding all the boys hovering over her like she was made of glass. Glass. They shouldn’t be looking at her like that. Not after everything she’s done.

“El, are you okay? El?” Mike said, worriedly.

“Mike...” She sobbed, lip quivering. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry? What are you sorry for?”

“The gate… I opened it. I’m the monster.”

“No.” He shakes his head. “No, El, you’re not the monster.”

“You saved us.” Steve said, with a smile. “You saved me. Do you understand? You saved me. Whatever you did in the past, that’s all said and done. All that matters now is what you do in the future. Okay?”

“Okay…” She sniffles and nods. “Okay.”

“Okay.” His expression grows as he sits her up. “Come here.” 

She allows herself to grab a hold of him, burying her head in his chest for a sense of comfort. Steve keeps her close, relieved that she’s here, relieved that she’s fine, relieved that she saved their lives. Whatever she’d done is done, now they must move forward and save their loved ones. But for now, they were allowed this one sentimental moment. He soon felt Mike wrapped his arms around them, just before Dustin did it too. 

Steve locks eyes with him, Dustin sharing a small smile while mouthing the words ‘Thank You’. Probably for the fact that he swapped places with Mike (Or was there something else beside that?). Whatever it was, Steve copies his expression before ruffling the top of his hat before continuing with the hug.

Meanwhile, in another part of the forest, Lucas found himself hidden in a tree, watching with his binoculars as he spotted the suspiciously familiar vans behind the fence. It took him a moment to realize where he saw those vans. Realizing that he saw one parked outside his house when he left a while ago, he put two and two together right before this situation got worse. He watches as Men in uniform stroll out of the lab, guns in hand and pouring into the vehicles that made their way into the main roads.

His eyes widened and his heart skipped a beat.

“Oh, fuck.”

(TBC)

A/N: Only three more chapters to go for this season! This next one should be a "fun" ride for you all 😈

-Taglist is Open-

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[cowboyemeritus]

Day 21

Prompt: Primal/Feral and Somno

Pairing: Phantom/Reader

Tags: primal/feral, somnophilia (consentual), heat cycles, knotting

Notes: been wanting to write about The Bug for forever and ever >:)

You awake to Phantom moaning pathetically in your ear. He’s been at it all night, lost in the throes of his rut. Though your pussy is raw, screaming with each frantic thrust, you can’t help but clench around him. Seeing your sweet, sweet ghoul like this, completely at the mercy of his urges, does things to you that you can’t quite explain.

“You there, babe?” From the way his breath hitches at the sound of your voice, you can tell he’s close again. You get only a groan in response, but it’s better than a few hours ago, when there was nothing but growling and biting. Phantom’s lavender eyes are blown wide, the lids droopy as he fucks you. Your thighs feel sticky with a countless number of climaxes worth of your combined fluids, your skin crunchy with dried sweat. His chest is still feverishly hot against your naked back and he’s dripping with perspiration, his normally fluffy hair plastered to his forehead. If he cums in the next few minutes, hopefully you’ll get the opportunity to make him drink some water. Feeling the dryness in your mouth, you could use some as well.

You glance over at the clock on his night-stand. Six twenty-seven a.m. Your back is to the window, but taking a better look around, the room is lighter than when you fell asleep, the first traces of dawn creeping in. Doing a little mental math, which is difficult given the relentless distraction, you estimate his rut has been going on for at least 14 hours.

Damn.

It started slow. When Phantom first began to feel “the itch,” as he calls it, you’d been cuddling on the couch in the common room. Without any physical or mental stimuli, you felt him harden against your back, his breathing growing heavy. It took some elbow-grease, but eventually you were able to get him to stop humping your ass long enough to coax him into his bedroom, wanting to ride it out in private. No doubt that if he had been any less cognizant, you would have been pinned to that beat-up, old sectional all night, on full display for whichever ghoul passed through.

That’s fairly normal ‘round these parts, but his bed is roomier and more comfortable. You have your priorities.

After the third handjob, Phantom’s refractory period somehow growing shorter with each consecutive climax, the beast took over. This creature has been the one ravaging you ever since. You’re glad you’d held off on letting him fuck you; Asmodeus only knows how much more pain you’d be in if you hadn’t bought your poor pussy a few extra hours. You help him through this willingly, of course, but it is an intense labor of love. In this state, Phantom is nothing like his goofy, laid-back self; he’s frenzied, animalistic. Your hips and ass are covered in claw marks, your neck bruised and bleeding in several spots. He takes you hard and rough, shoving his cock into you like he needs it to survive. This is not the Phantom you know, not even close. It’s a little scary, but in small doses, this side of him is also sexy, in an odd way. Besides, you feel at ease knowing that in a few hours, he’ll be back to normal.

At this point your core has been so abused, so stretched out, that you hardly notice when he buries his knot inside you for the umpteenth time. Your only indication that he’s hit his peak is his body going rigid against you, moaning quietly in your ear. Then, he goes slack.

After a few moments, Phantom’s breathing begins to even out. “Hey,” he mumbles, much to your surprise. He sounds utterly exhausted, the poor thing. “Are you okay?” Craning your head back, you give him a chaste peck on the cheek. His hips buck involuntarily.

“Just peachy,” you reassure him, brushing a lock of black-and-white hair away from his eyes. “Welcome back.”

[ceruleanwhore]

I was just listening to the OtGW soundtrack in the car and I realized that there’s stuff in the music that actually backs up my kinda crack theory that the Queen of the Clouds is actually the Beast, or at least is tied to the Beast somehow (if we’re going with the idea that the show is Dante’s Inferno, the Woodsman and Adelaide could represent two of the three beasts from the Dark Wood of Error while the cloud lady could be the third.) First, I just want to take a moment to introduce my theory since I haven’t posted about it before. Basically, a while ago, as I was thinking about the ending of the series and trying to figure out what Greg wished for and how he ended up going from the Queen of the Clouds to being in that daze under the Beast’s control, it occurred to me that maybe they were one and the same. Part of this comes from how information about the Beast is provided to the boys and, by extent, the audience. We start off with generic fear about a nameless, nondescript ‘beast’ but, in “Songs of the Dark Lantern”, we are told for the first time that the Beast tells lies and also that the main thing he does is turn children into trees that he harvests for oil to fuel his lamp. To me, this says that he can’t just sneak up behind a child and turn them into a tree but, rather, that he tells lies because he has to lure them in somehow and trick them into becoming the trees. Also, the Beast is known for his lies and we see the Cloud Queen showing Wirt to Greg and lying to him about how Wirt has already been claimed and is too far gone and there is no way for him to go home with Greg. The other main piece of evidence for my little theory here is what Greg is doing with the Beast at the end, how he’s acting, and what exactly he’s saying. He’s doing stuff like putting a teacup on a rock so the sun sets behind it, because he had been told to catch the sun in a cup, and the Beast praises him for this, using a soft tone of voice like a normal person would use with a child that really isn’t befitting of a ‘beast’ at all. And yet, after being shown to do a task that the Beast asked him to do and praised him for completing, Greg is still saying to Wirt that he “did it,” that he “beat the Beast.” Well, if he was even the tiniest bit grounded in reality, there would be no way in Hell he’d be saying that as he’s been going around serving the Beast himself while his physical condition gets significantly worse and he even starts coughing up leaves. This clearly indicates that Greg is out to lunch, mentally, and I think it strongly supports the idea that Greg does not know at all that it’s the Beast who’s having him do stuff like catch the sun in a cup or that it’s the Beast who’s praising him. What I think it is is that, in his head, this is all stuff he’s running around doing for the Cloud Queen in order to set up for or earn whatever his wish was and she’s the one he sees and hears and thinks he’s talking to. Now, as for how the soundtrack further supports this, I’d like to start with singing in the series. Most characters don’t sing at all and few have their own songs, but something that just became clear to me is that, like what Lin Manuel Miranda did in Hamilton, each character who really does sing their own songs gets their own signature style of music. For example, Jason Funderburker (the frog) gets that kind of bluesy sound like in the opening theme and the song “Over the Garden Wall”  while Greg has that really upbeat kids’ music, like with “Potatoes and Molasses” and “Adelaide Parade.” More importantly, though, the only two characters in the whole thing who ever sing opera are the Beast and the Queen of the Clouds. Other bits include the part where Greg is ‘Greg’ to literally everyone except the Cloud Queen and the Beast, who both call him ‘Gregory.’ Additionally, there’s the scene at the start of the last episode when the Beast is talking to Greg and he says “Anything is possible if you set your mind to it, right?” which sticks out because we’ve never seen Greg say that to the Beast or even just around him, but he did just say it to the Cloud Queen not that long ago. This one’s a bit of a stretch but there’s also how the light reflects in Greg’s eyes both as he enters the dream and when he’s talking to the Queen of the Clouds which reminded me of the “you have beautiful eyes” part of the first episode when those wild, glowing eyes of the corrupted dog reflect in Greg’s own eyes. Moreover, the lyrics of “Everything is Nice and Fine All the Time” and “Forward Oneiroi” have some bits that sound kind of sinister, which doesn’t make sense if the Cloud Kingdom and their queen are actually just good and nice. Specifically, “Everything is Nice and Fine” has a couple mentions of lies, which is something that throughout the series really only comes up in the Unknown when it comes to the Beast or fear of him, and there’s one line that really sticks out to me of “Our songs are filled with love, the sweetest lie/And we can send them down to you with a little shove.” The cherubs in this Cloud Kingdom are literally coming out and saying that love, or maybe just their love, is a lie so their songs, including the one they’re singing about how everything is nice and fine all the time, are “filled with” a lie. Not to mention the line of “Lasso a cloud and make the flowers grow,” which is eerily reminiscent of the task Greg is given later on of “lowering the sun out of the sky and into this china cup” in how it’s such a whimsical yet surreal and impossible action. I’m also just going to put the lyrics to “Forward Oneiroi” here real quick so you can see them:      Forward, cherubs, hear the song      A child's wishes call us on      Descend! Descend!      'Ere he 'scapes, for dreams      Our winged wind hath made      For only beneath the veil of sleep      Can we Oneiroi act on men. The first thing I want to talk about here is the actual Oneiroi. From what I found, Oneiroi were lesser deities of dreams in some forms and areas of Hellenic paganism who were led by Morpheus, who tended to take a human shape in the dreams he visited. If the welcome wagon is all the Oneiroi who are addressed in the Cloud Queen’s song, then that means that she, as their leader, is the Morpheus figure, as in a powerful being who isn’t actually human but takes a human shape in dreams. Also, that second part of “Descend! Descend!/'Ere he 'scapes” sounds genuinely threatening. If the dream is so good and “everything is nice and fine all the time,” why would Greg ‘escape’? And now I’ll  put in the lyrics to Beast’s part of Come Wayward Souls too because I want to compare these two songs:      Come, wayward souls      And wander through the darkness      There is a light for the lost and the meek      Sorrow and fear are easily forgotten      When you submit to the soil of the earth Okay so where I’m going with this is that these songs feel very similar to me, both in tone and musicality as well as lyrical content. If you took “Forward Oneiroi” and swapped out the words “cherubs” and “Oneiroi” for “children” or “souls” and then just put it in a darker sounding minor key, I think it would feel about the same as “Come Wayward Souls” and I definitely could see that song being one of the Beast’s. I would also point out how the lyrics of both the Beast’s songs have this weirdly encouraging, light, hopeful tone, which makes sense given that he waits for kids to get lost and give up and then he comes in and scoops them up. In “Wayward Souls,” he says “There is a light for the lost and the meek/Sorrow and fear are easily forgotten/When you submit to the soil of the earth,” which yes, sounds kinda ominous with the part about submitting to the earth but, really, is putting light and hope out there. It’s saying that, if you just go with him and submit to the earth, there is a light for you, some beacon of hope, and you can forget the sorrow and fear you’re currently feeling. He does the same in “The Jolly Woodsman,” too: “When the fog of life surrounds you/When you think you've lost your way/Come with me and join the forest/Come with me and join the play.” Lastly, I want to compare the kids’ choir part of “Wayward Souls” and “Potatus et Molassus” to “Everything is Nice and Fine.” For reference, the full choir part is “Grow, tiny seed/You are called to the trees/Rise 'til your leaves fill the sky/Until your sighs fill the air in the night/Lift your mighty limbs/And give praise to the fire.” The first thing that sticks out is how much this choir of children who we know to be the souls in the edelwood trees are talking about reaching up to the sky with the branches of their trees, which reminds me of lines like “So hitch a ride into the sky,” “The softest clouds and rainbow skies ain’t gonna lie,” and “Everyone is sittin' pretty on top of the weather,” from “Everything is Nice and Fine.” I thought I’d already said it but I just looked back and apparently I didn’t say that, with the idea that the Cloud Queen is the Beast, there is also the idea that everyone we see in Cloud City is just the not-yet-sacrificed souls of the children in the edelwoods, and stuff like this kinda goes with that. Another thing I noticed that makes sense to me, though idk if it’ll make sense to everyone, is that “Potatoes and Molasses” is to “Potatus et Molassus” as “Everything is Nice and Fine” is to the children’s choir part in the Beast’s song. I would even go so far as to claim that the whole point of the “Potatus et Molassus” reprise is to draw attention to “Everything is Nice and Fine” and then call into question everything from the Cloud City stuff. I say this because, as I said previously, each character who sings their own designated songs has their own designated style and Everything is Nice and Fine is in a similar style to Greg’s own style (it’s a bit different though, so it’s not like they just used Greg’s style because it’s his dream or something) while “Potatus et Molassus” is in the same exact style as the “grow tiny seed” stuff, to the extent that the children’s choir is even used in that song. So, when I look at Greg in episodes 8 and 10, I think that what’s going on is that the Beast doesn’t just come up and talk to you as this ominous, scary shadow guy with antlers and weird eyes but, rather, he can be subtle and manipulative and do shit like get inside of your head and manipulate you. After all, Satan’s a liar and a conjurer too and, with the Inferno view of OtGW, the Beast is Satan. My bet is that, at the start of episode 10, Greg is aware enough to know that he’s no longer in his dream but he sees the Queen of the Clouds rather than the Beast and imagines that she’s there to guide him through whatever tasks he needs to do to get Wirt back and go home or whatever. Once there’s the tree starting to grow around him, I believe that, in his head, he succeeded and then was back home or maybe some other nice, cute, safe space like Cloud City with all the other souls. When he sings “Potatus et Molassus,” in whatever is going on in his head, he’s just having a good time wherever he is, singing “Potatoes and Molasses,” like how he and all those other children heard a lilting soprano instead of an ominous bass when the Beast sings. (Sorry this was so long btw)

[offdensen]

missed that ask meme, curious about wonder! (also didn't know you wrote, just read your trek fics they are 😳🩵🩵🩵🩵)

aw, thank you! i really appreciate that :')

okay so wonder is an old project from when i first got into trek eight years ago. i barely wrote any of the actual fic, but the unfinished outline is over 7k words. it's a beast. i have no idea if i'll ever finish it lmao

there's this movie called this is war (2012) starring chris pine (all my feelings about aos and aos!kirk aside, i love cpine. what a guy) about two guys who are spies and end up competing each other for a lady. it's a romcom. it's not good. but!!! i thought the premise of jim and spock being undercover agents for starfleet intelligence and both falling for bones would be a fun sandbox to play in.

some key notes (this shit is long sorry):

jim and spock have worked together for two years; spock nearly always calls him sir, even when they're alone in private; they both have feelings for each other but. well. they're stupid

bones is still a medical doctor, of course. fresh on the heels of a divorce, he moves to a colony planet and works in one of the largest hospitals in the capital city, avicenna clinic and emergency center

this colony planet, nasir, is located near the border of the beta and alpha quadrants. there are three main cities on the northeastern continent with a string of rural settlements between them, with each main city named after medieval muslim astronomers (al-shatir in the north, al-haytham in the south, and the capital al-khwarizmi in the middle). this continent is largely humid with regular rainstorms and 65°F average temperatures year-round, making it suitable for growing fresh produce, the planet's main export

there is some weird political stuff happening in al-khwarizmi, which is why jim and spock are sent there on assignment; an agent-in-training chekov and long-time investigator scotty are working with them in tandom, but behind the scenes

uhura is a xenolinguist studying the influence of standard on non-human colonists' languages; she is in relationship with chapel, head nurse at avicenna; they are both some of bones' only friends in the colony

sulu is a botanist specializing in xenoagriculture, studying the efficacy of the planet's soil as well as a strange fungus that's been infecting some local crops

rand is a reporter for al-khwarizmi's local news station who's been trying to uncover the reason behind the abnormally high number of political representatives resigning from their positions

and some plot beats:

jim meets bones at a bar and is drawn to him immediately; they build a quick and easy rapport; "jim feels a little butterflies-in-the-stomach high as he watches leonard leave and he makes a mental note to come back to this bar tomorrow"

he later discovers that bones is the same doctor that spock sought after in his preparatory research, having made certain to find a skilled doctor with a xenobiology background in case their mission goes awry

spock requests an interview with bones before his scheduled physical upon discovering that jim in interested in him; they Do Not get along initially, but the physical appointment goes over much more smoothly and that's when spock is like "oh. i'm also fascinated by this man"

jim and spock establish three rules about pursuing bones: not discussing one another with bones, do not infringe on one another's wooing, and no sex. at this point there's no solid "this is polyamory" but rather a "winner-takes-all" deal

it's uhura and chapel that convince bones to deliberate polyamory with jim and spock; still abiding by their rules, they agree, still keeping their knowledge of the other a secret. i'm sure that won't cause any problems in the future :)

a lot of dates. oh my god they go on so many dates. mckirk at the arboretum and camping in tents and slow dancing in a park gazebo; spones at an art gallery and a vulcan restaurant and the aquarium. someone breaks one of their rules. whoops

while all of this is happening, there's an overarching plot regarding political intrigue, a possible homicide, and a plague. it's all very ambitious and probably the reason why i never got very far. maybe one day!

[respectthepetty]

Question. I have never heard of you’re my sky. And now I have added to my list because of your post. I have found that the Most popular BLs are not normally the Beat BLs according to regular fan base so……. Because I have not heard of this one I am in hopes it’s going to be a good one?? 👀

Anon, please do not trust my recommendations because I have trash taste, but as an American, I tend to like sports-themed stories. Give me a plot about an underdog in the sports world coming up against the big bad rich multiple-time winning team, and I will love the shit out of it! I will eat up media like The Mighty Ducks, Friday Night Lights ("clear eyes, full heart, can't lose"), and One Tree Hill ("I DON'T WANNA BE ANYTHING OTHER THAN WHAT I'VE BEEN TRYNA BE LATELY") because I want to root for the little guy. I didn't watch Creed and Bring It On just for the color coding.

So understand this is a BIG reason I love You're My Sky. At the center of it is a story about a dark horse (or more like a Red Rascal) who not only brings life back into his school's basketball program but also into every single person who gets involved with it. The coach, the players (FLUKE!), and his love interest all get a second shot (pun intended) at fulfilling their dreams.

Oh, and the antagonist? Perfect! People HATED the 11th episode because it had a time jump and flipped the script on our little long shot, but it brought a new layer to our despised coach who had been the enemy for the last ten episodes, AND it made sense why the lead would act the way he did, mostly to people who have played a competitive sport on a level of this nature. It's a different beast, mentally and physically, and changes people.

In addition, people lost. One of the reasons people liked My School President was because of the seriousness of the competition which was the underlying thread throughout the series, but also that the possibility of losing was very real. In You're My Sky, competition is treated the same. The team won't win simply because they want to or the narrative proclaims it. No. The actors look like they can actually play basketball, the strategies make sense, and the fear that loss can and will happen is always present. Not just in basketball, but in track, in soccer, and most importantly, in love.

I haven't even mentioned the love parts! But know that those are good too. We have childhood friends-to-lovers, a younger boy chasing an older one, and pseudo-enemies-to-lovers but one is dating the other's sister. I don't care what anyone says about the leads or the sister's boyfriend plot. They did their jobs and EPISODE SIX SUPREMACY!

The show demonstrates that no man is an island regardless of the endeavor. In order to achieve greatness, we must work with others. People will let us down, but we have to support others in order to receive support, and we need to help the people we love even in their darkest times, especially when they feel unworthy of it.

This series is a top for me, so even though some people disliked it, I hope it makes you "CHEER! CHEER!"

Let me know how you feel once and if you finish.

[jodilin65]

TUESDAY, SEPTEMBER 30, 1997 Well, the I-don’t-care asshole’s beast just gave me a few barks about 15 minutes ago to remind me it was there. Someday. Someday I will live where someone else’s dog won’t be set off by me rummaging around in my own house. Someday I’ll live where all dogs, voices, and cars are off in the distance.

Speaking of these psychotic fucks - I think I figured something out and that’s that I don’t think that little girl is hers. This would explain why she’s bone-thin unless she’s a druggie, and why she mentioned her nephew and her “niece.” Remember, I was supposed to have told them they couldn’t play out front when the truth is that that was the first time I saw the boy there when I went off about the dog. And also, I’ve never said a damn word to the little girl.

For some reason, I’m actually looking forward to the winter. I’m kind of tired of sweating and just knowing that these aren’t winter people is comforting. Unless that’s gonna change at any point. The only thing that’ll definitely get noisier here is the two dogs as the weather cools down. The kids will return to the monkey bars, too, but that can’t be heard inside the house. I’ve got a good feeling about the winter, but I can’t put a finger on it. Well, I know it can’t be that the bed cures our sex lives or that I’ll be pregnant, but I’m curious to see if they move in December. Or if Mike takes off again for a few months. If he does, then there’ll be no car doors or company car doors to listen to. The only car doors would be whoever drives that sick bitch to and from work.

In a way, I wish we’d be the ones to move before the sick fucks do, cuz then they’ll be hearing from me in the mail and I’ll make sure they know damn well that it’s me too, writing to them. However, if they left first, then I sent them a letter (which would get forwarded to their new place) these deranged lunatics may very well shoot up the house.

Yesterday, I let the devil get the better of me, so to speak, and I felt a little down about how controlled I’ve been in life. God taking away your right to have a child can lower your self-esteem here and there and really make you feel cursed, inadequate, and abnormal. My lungs had been tight for a couple of days and I just couldn’t handle any physical or emotional beatings from God at the moment cuz of his problems with past Jews, other family members, or me.

Then Tom did something that was fun, romantic, spontaneous, and just totally great. As he was putting together the new vacuum, which I love and which is better than the one that broke, he asked if I wanted to talk, or if I wanted sex to make me feel better, and asked me if I wanted him to go down on me or screw. Sex could never solve my problems, but it sure feels good and is a great diversion from shit. I wanted him to go down on me and I told him that after that, we could screw if he wanted to, but I think that he too, wanted to go down on me and not screw. So, he just went down on me, and it was really nice and helped me feel better both physically and mentally so I could get to bed.

Tom said that it’d be best not to call and ask Mary about tube brand trading. He said if I need tubes, to just say so. Well, I don’t need them, but more Play City tubes would be nice to have eventually. Right now, though, I’m more interested in us getting the bed, and that electrolysis thing I want, and a gerbil. I could use a new hideaway and some more accessories like that, too.

Tammy, who only calls when she wants something or if something’s wrong, left a message for Tom to give her a call about a computer question. So we called her, but they figured out the problem on their own. Then Bill got on and asked some other questions and told us a couple of jokes.

I wonder if my mom’s getting senile or if she’s bored and lonely like Andy? After I got done listening to music, I saw she called, so I called her back. She said something about trying to get me on the computer, but accidentally calling me, which makes no sense, and how she knows we’ve got every service there is. Well, not quite. Anyway, she wanted to know what size the bed was, and I reminded her that in my last message, I said that the bed would be delayed a little while. I told her it’d be a king-size and she said she’d be sending a ruffle thing that goes between the box spring and mattress and also pillow shams and 1 set of sheets. She’s also sending a lamp, too, like we need yet another lamp. This package will be here any day now, but then she’s gonna send another one.

The sheets she’s sending match the comforter I’ve got that she sent when I first got here. She too, doesn’t use blankets and likes comforters. I don’t care so much what the sheets look like, but I do want a nicer-looking comforter. This one’s getting old, anyway. Talk about a major matchaholic, though! She started to describe this navy plaid comforter and I told her that that just wasn’t my style and she said she better not send it anyway, cuz it wouldn’t match the lamp.

Oh, brother! Typical Jewish mom!

Originally, we were gonna buy a new comforter and two sets of sheets, but now we’ll just get a new comforter and one set of sheets. She says they just use one set and wash it every week, but I wasn’t about to get into why we want two sets and tell her that I don’t think she and Dad make the mess that Tom and I do periodically. You never know anyway, and it’s nice to have a backup set no matter what, cuz you never know if you may spill something like coffee on the sheets at the end of your day, and you may not care to wait till they were washed and dried.

I busted my ass off cleaning kitchen appliances yesterday and today I dusted, vacuumed, and mopped and I already feel much better. Tom mowed the lawn and was kind enough to clear the back room floor so I could vacuum more space. We also switched back to the EC till Friday. It was just too humid.

MONDAY, SEPTEMBER 29, 1997 Once again, I’m filled with mixed emotions about Tom’s mom. She’s a sweet lady, yet I sometimes wish she didn’t exist. Tom may feel obligated to help out his mom after all the years she took care of him, but still, he was over there yesterday for about 5 hours taking care of her and doing her lawn. What about taking care of me? What about our lawn? He didn’t make the time for this more frequent sex he claims he wants yesterday, he didn’t mow the lawn, he didn’t do the weeding, he didn’t do the hedges and tree out front, he didn’t replace the sink washer. All he did was talk about how he’s gonna rearrange the back room and how he’s gonna organize that, which is pure bullshit. And even if he does do anything with it, he’ll start it in a month from now, but won’t finish it.

He left me a message that he woke up a little late.

Well, of course. She’s running him ragged. What’s to say this won’t escalate till she ends up getting him fired?

I don’t wish her dead or anything, but I sure as hell wish she’d move into Mary’s and sell that old dump of a burden!

SUNDAY, SEPTEMBER 28, 1997 It’ll be time to clean and rearrange T-Bear’s cage again soon. In no time at all, after I’ve created a new setup, it gets filthy! Why can’t he pee in the sawdust, rather than the tubes? In fact, I think I’ll go deal with that now, then I’ll write.

My parents sent me the “long” message I said would be nice to receive since typing is so much easier than writing. Yeah, on every other line, with one word per line, they wrote: Dear Jodi, this is the long letter you’ve been wanting, love, Mom and Dad.

I’m gonna call Mary sometime and see if she uses both Sam and Play City. I think she might, cuz when she first gave me that little cage and one T-tube and two curved Play City tubes, she also gave me two curved Sam tubes. I’m really sick of these flimsy Sam tubes and I want to see if she’d be willing to trade me 6 Sam’s for 6 Play City’s.

I spoke to Lisa yesterday and to Tammy and Bill, too. Tammy’s going through what I’m going through - you get your feet on the ground, then the shit hits the fan. Although her problems are medical and ours are with things breaking. She said she may have something called malaria, which is a disease from a bug bite, and the vacuum that I thought just had a loose belt, may very well be totally shot. So, it looks like Tom’s gonna have to get a new one. And due to this, the bed will be delayed a week. Of course. Why not? God wouldn’t want me to hurry up and take any steps towards anything more normal now, would he?

I was in a good mood at one point and said to Tom, “Who knows? Maybe the bed will change our lives.”

Then he said he didn’t say that, and I reminded him that he did say it’d lead us to more sex and him to more cumming and us to finding out who’s right about the sterility (not that I don’t already know who’s right). He was all man when his reply to that was that that wasn’t changing our whole lives. Well, I know he doesn’t care, but to me, it’d be changing a damn good chunk of my life. I didn’t know this, but he said he did get the loan started for the bed, too, which only takes 7-10 days to go through. In fact, he got a very unexpected and guaranteed loan of about two G’s sent to his ma’s house. I thought that this was a sign that the bed was really a lot more meant to be than even I thought, but now I don’t know. I know the bed’s gonna be much more than just one week delayed. I’m not stupid. I know how fate works with me and as I said before, I see absolutely no change in our sex lives when and if we ever do get the bed, but I hope I’m not wrong in a very bad kind of way. Hopefully, it won’t make our lives a disaster, but I guess it couldn’t really do that. I just hope not.

I told Bill some jokes and he told me one. I’m also gonna send them a couple of pages of some more jokes I have in journal 85.

I’ve been exercising again and have been holding at 104 pounds, but I still don’t see myself getting as thin as I used to be between 95-100. I think my body has pretty much settled into what it wants to weigh in this day and age.

I’ve been doing something that’s been making the proofreading of my journals, which is very boring, go a lot faster. I’ve been printing them out, making corrections on the paper, then correcting them on the computer. This way, I don’t have to sit at the computer and I can take the printouts with me wherever I want - to the couch, in bed, etc.

I got a package of notepads and pens from Kim and another picture, too, which I’ve sent to Bob. Yes, I’ve written to both Bob and her. She looked terrible in the picture and her face is like a rectangle. Very long and thin. Guess she lost weight. Anyway, I thought Bob would appreciate the picture more than me, but I won’t be writing to this bore very much at all.

Tom said, “It’s OK to like someone I don’t like and be friends with them.” Well, he’s absolutely right, so I sent Kim a letter. However, I’m perfectly willing to compromise with him, as it’s only fair. He said it was up to me, but if she calls saying she’s coming out here, I’ll make up an excuse as to why I won’t be able to see her.

Tom said the weather was too beautiful today to do any work, but he compromised with me and switched to the cooler, before going to the racetrack. The only thing about it is that it turned very humid when we switched. It figures, huh? Still, it’s nice to have the fresh air, even if the air here is becoming more and more like L.A. It should also be drying up soon, too.

When I got up around 10 PM, I asked Tom how the sickos were today and he said he heard car doors.

Oh, I’m sure he did.

Tom’s got a definite point when he says to only ask something of someone once. I’ve learned that if someone doesn’t comply with your wishes the first time around, they never will. So, I told Tom that I’ll only ask him once to do things like turn the water faucets off tight or stuff like that, cuz if he doesn’t do it the first time around, then he obviously just doesn’t care to. Something would’ve had to be done about this, though, had we had had a kid, cuz if it saw that we weren’t respecting each other’s wishes, it wouldn’t respect ours. As far as asking neighbors anything, no matter how reasonable a request it is, you can’t ask them nothing. I mean nothing! A good 95% of the people in this city not only just don’t give a shit, but if you ask them the simplest favors, they fucking pitch a fit! Back east, the only problems with noisy neighbors I had were at the NHA, but if I had asked every single one of my neighbors to please tone down whatever source of noise, almost all of them would’ve gladly done so. And they’d have had the same attitude I do and would want to be considerate of my wishes, cuz they too, would want consideration. They wouldn’t want trouble so close to home, either. They’d never have not cared this much or gotten so angry over me asking them to keep the noise down that they would end up making even more noise like that butch Andi did. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think I really asked the butch and the freeloaders to shoot their parents.

I can totally see why those Mormons moved. They were just too nice for this city and Tom’s so right - there are assholes everywhere, but boy are cities (especially huge ones) infested with them! At least 95% of the people I’ve met here were complete major fuckaroos, like Donna, Rosemarie, Mark, Robert, Stacey, Scott, Ellie, Fay, the freeloaders, and that security guard Steve and the kids next to my second apartment at Crystal Creek, were no angels, either. They didn’t give a damn about anyone but themselves.

I didn’t know this, but Tom told me that if it weren’t for his parents living in Phoenix, he’d have left a long time ago. Well, I’m glad he didn’t so we could meet, but I really can’t wait till we move to a smaller city, even if it’ll take 4-8 years.

SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 27, 1997 I hope Tom can fix the vacuum that broke yet again, with no problems. As great as he is at fixing things, some things just turn out to be a bigger deal than you first think. Just like when the sickos got their beast. I figured - no problem. It can't be any worse than the other two. Yeah, right! Well, I didn't feel that way when it went off that night at 2 AM, nor do I feel that way when the two dogs finally shut up, and then this one starts up.

As long as people leave their dogs outside 24/7 like they do here in AZ, then I can't stand any dogs being within half a mile of where I live.

THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 25, 1997 According to the message my parents left, we’ll be getting a package next week. I’m always psyched and looking forward to any packages they send. I just hope it’s stuff we like and can use, cuz sometimes they send stuff that I just don’t know what to do with. They tell me to find someone that can use what I can’t and that’s usually what I try to do, cuz I wouldn’t want to just trash something they send.

Once again, they were full of shit when they said Hurricane Nora would bring us a lot of rain, but it has brought us a lot of wind. Down in Yuma, though, is a different story. They’re getting a lot of rain.

All’s still being quiet at night and through most of the day with our sick fucks next door. Yesterday at 7 AM, though, I heard that big black mouth yelling about something, then a few door slams, then that was it.

Sandy replied to my message saying that Andy’s delay was a favor to her with how busy she’s been, but to let her know as soon as he knows when he’s coming in, so she can make the time to go to see him in Springfield, or wherever.

Andy left me a message asking me how to say print your name and sign your name in Spanish since the people buying his old car don’t speak English. So, I told him.

Ma’s in stable condition right now and believe it or not, she doesn’t have to return to the doctor for two months, so that’s good. However, she’s still shaky.

Tom took her grocery shopping the other day and Tom pointed out these really cool-looking ghost cookies and Ma bought them for me, along with a few TV dinners. The cookies were good. They’re sugar cookies with ghosts in the middle of them and I made them up yesterday.

As far as yesterday’s sex goes - yes, things are still the same. God’s still making sure there’s always a problem, offering us no help, and acting like there’s a pregnancy he’s got to keep me from whenever I’m mid-cycle. And Tom’s still too scared to get off and still denying this. He still seems just a little too happy when he doesn’t get off and why is it that he says sex was good when he doesn’t cum, but he doesn’t say that when he does cum?

Anyway, as you know, I’ve been struggling in my mind with what to do about his teasing and his fears and I’ve decided that there’s nothing to “tease” me with. He can’t tease me about getting pregnant when I can’t do that in the first place, so he can seem as teasing and as spiteful as he wants when it comes to sex. And also, I said I was gonna take care of his fears since he won’t speak up on his own, and use my best judgment by avoiding sex during mid-cycle, but no way. That’s not my responsibility. First off, I know his fears can’t turn into a reality and also, I’m not gonna take care of his fears for him. He can do that by not cumming at that time, since the few times he did, it obviously scared the shit out of him even more. It’s up to him to speak up and take action against his fears, not me. I can’t always hold his hand, so to speak, and protect him from his fears, whether they’re unfounded or not. He has to take a stand for himself and stand on his own two feet to do what he feels he has to do.

WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 24, 1997 Tom left for work at 12:30, telling me tomorrow and the next day, we could have time together. Time together to do what? Tease me? Have him be too scared to get off and make up excuses for it? He said tomorrow will be a good day, but what does that mean? As much as I’m always tempted by sex, I have to muster up all the strength I can to say no. We can have a good day as long as we’re playing cards or just hanging out together, but I don’t want to be manipulated or played for a fool in bed, no matter how much I enjoy our sex and get off. Is it really worth him doing something he’s not comfortable doing, just to tease me and tell me he’s not afraid?

I will never ever go "Gizzying" again. Not in the garage, unless it was between November and February. And not unless we saw one in the house. I put the trap in the garage at dusk and went to get it at 10:30 and I caught something, alright. Shitloads of ants! I thought that by 10:30, even though it’s not getting down into the 40s or 50s yet at that time, they’d be in bed.

Their dog shut up at the usual time, but for a good two hours or so in the early evenings, I really do wish someone would shoot that fucking beast! It’s nice and peacefully quiet now, though, and since it’s cooled down into the 70s and 80s at night, I’ve shut off the AC and turned the cooler on “vent.” Friday we’re gonna switch over so we can use the cooler to cool and not just vent. It needs a new part to allow the water to pass through the filter or whatever.

Friday he’ll also order that movie and on Saturday, he’ll finish up stringing the phone wires at Mary’s house and now their fucking toilet broke, so now that’s something else he’s got to fix. I told him that once he fixed his timing belt on the car there’d be something else, but can anyone in this family, other than Tom, fix or do some project themselves?

I can’t believe I forgot to mention the new hole I installed in the cage I last got for Teddy Bear. I’ve been using the hole that’s supposed to be for the wheel that comes with the cage, to serve him treats through. The idiots who designed this cage designed the walls at a slant. Therefore, he never liked this wheel, I believe, cuz of the way it’s tipped at such an angle that doesn’t really allow him to stay on the thing. I didn’t want to put the wheel on that side of the cage, anyway, cuz then the back of the wheel would be facing me and it also needs to be on that side where the side hole’s facing right, cuz that’s the only area I can extend to. I mean, I could reverse the setup and put the aquarium on my desk and run it the other way, but the aquarium would hog up my desk space. With the shelves, though, I can put stuff under them.

Well, I’m glad Tom didn’t ask me how I made this hole, cuz he wouldn’t like it. I burned it through with a cigarette, which took forever as this plastic’s tough, then I used a metal nail file to widen and smooth the hole. But once I got that done, I still had the problem with the wheel I wanted to use besides his pink one, cuz this is a killer wheel. It was still tilted. But I just pushed it out by taping magnets to the wall of the cage to level it out. The top of it rubs against the wall a little bit, but this wheel runs so slickly that it doesn’t matter. I need to file the purple wheel Mary gave me some more to make that one run more smoothly, too.

TUESDAY, SEPTEMBER 23, 1997 It’s now the coolest it’s been in months and I’ve got the AC off in the back room and the main AC turned way down. That won’t last long, as the dogs are gonna start barking any second, so I’ll turn the fan on. In another couple of hours or so from now, there will be peace from dogs, so then I can turn the fan off, too. They’re home next door at this time, so the dog will be yipping away for the attention it won’t get, till they crash, and they crash pretty early. They’re lucky they don’t work at home all day and then stay up all night!

I got a letter yesterday from Kim. She enclosed a picture of a flower-shaped cutout. It had a Chinese yin-yang in the center of it and its petals were of a colorful marble-like design. I don’t know what I’m gonna do with it, but I’ll find something to decorate it with.

As for the pictures that I use as screen savers - I cropped some of them and also deleted some I got sick of. I still have a much wider selection of pictures than I did before, though, of about 30 pictures.

Andy gave me Sandy’s email address and I sent her a message to let her know that Andy’s trip will be delayed another couple of weeks, but that he’ll let her know what’s going on as soon as he knows. I told her she could pass along any messages for him and that I’d pass along to her any messages he may have.

I can’t believe Tom read a John Saul book, but he did. This is the one that I wouldn’t read, that was sort of like science fiction.

From 6 PM-9:30 PM, that dog just won’t shut the fuck up, so I just turned on some music. At least it’s not in the carport.

I’ve gone “Gizzying” and have set up the trap in the garage just in case I can catch a mouse, now that the cage is escape-proof like never before. I don’t regret setting Gizzy free, since that’s what he wanted, but I sure do wish he could see all the new additions and enjoy them, while I enjoy the fact that I don’t have to worry about him escaping. Anyway, I doubt I’ll catch a mouse at this time of year, but we’ll see.

They have a few movies that they run each month on one of the pay-per-view channels and for the next 6 months, we get a free movie. So, this month I’m gonna check out a movie that he’s gonna call in and order tomorrow. Then, we’ll pick one out again in October.

The unavailable calls that we’ve been getting daily for months have changed. Before, they’d hang up before the machine would come on, but now they hang on the machine for a few seconds before hanging up. You can tell by all the voices that it’s a business, but I still think it’s someone we know playing games. Tom disagrees and I know people are pushy and greedy when it comes to sales, but it’s just a feeling I get. If it isn’t someone he knew or knows, then the only two people I can think of that’d know this number as I said before, would be Fran and Jenny, but Fran would never be working telemarketing.

As I said, it’s been drier and cooler and I wish Tom would let us switch to the EC, but he says it’s best to wait a little while longer. Well, they say that Hurricane Nora that’s coming off the Pacific could cause us to have wind and rain on Wednesday and even more so on Thursday, but I don’t buy it. That’s what they said about Hurricane Linda, but we didn’t get shit. Most of the time they cry storm it never happens. That’s cuz they have to give people the worst possible scenario, even if it’s very unlikely.

Yesterday’s sex was the same old shit. What else is new?! I still should be using my best judgment and doing right by my husband who can’t speak for himself and since he thinks I can get pregnant, I should make sure we don’t screw during prime time. So, if I were all-woman and could conceive, then today and tomorrow would be risky like yesterday was. Tuesdays are when he’s the most tired, so we won’t be doing anything today for sure, but if he approaches me tomorrow, I’m not gonna be too nice to say no. If he can’t say no to the things he really doesn’t want to do, then I will. Yesterday he wouldn’t even stay on top that long at all and old scaredy-cat here wouldn’t cum, of course. Then he went and blamed it on eating too much. That was 3 hours ago from when we screwed, though. Excuses, excuses. Then he said again, that upon waking up and upon winding down for bed would be the best time for sex. Yeah, till he found excuses to make with that.

MONDAY, SEPTEMBER 22, 1997 When I left Andy a message on what I believe was Friday night, I told him that unless he had something important to tell me or was really depressed and needed to talk, I’d call him Monday or Tuesday. Hoping that for once and for all, he’d take the hint, but what did he do? He left a message late last night, in a fine mood, just to tell me I could have Sandy’s email address if I wanted it. Sandy, who’s gay, lives out in Hyannis, MA, I believe, unless she moved back to Springfield and she’s been a friend of Andy’s for a while. I don’t believe I ever met her, but I’ve met this girl named Nancy she used to be with and I guess this Nancy character turned out to be a thief and a liar and even a bit violent. I’ve seen pictures of Sandy and she’s not butchy or feminine. She’s just there, plain and boring. Anyway, Andy said he got her email address and said that we could be pen pals and I could give regular updates on his life to her. When I call him Monday or Tuesday, like I said I would, I’ll let him know that I don’t want her just for the sake of a pen pal, but that I’ll give her any messages he may have.

Tom explained to me something that he’s tried to explain to me that I’d just laugh at. I didn’t and would never laugh when he told me he had meningitis when he was around 5, nor would I laugh at how it affected sound signals within the brain, but I had always laughed when he told me it made him hyper. He was even on medication himself for a little while. He described himself to be just like I’ve always been - racing thoughts, difficulty concentrating, etc. The reason I had laughed was cuz this guy’s always been the opposite of me as far as how calm, quiet and less talkative he’s always been and he’s never seemed to have any trouble concentrating in the way I have. Hell, he can read and watch TV at the same time. He said that this is one of the reasons he can’t keep the back room organized. He said he just can’t concentrate. But I’ve seen him concentrate on hard tasks before, so if he’s just saying this cuz he really doesn’t want to do it, I don’t know.

I asked him how it cannot show with him and how he’s able to appear the exact opposite of hyper and he said it took years of concentration and that it’s something he always works on concentrating on so he can do things without his mind drifting off like mine does a lot. Then I made some comment about why he doesn’t concentrate on the kind of sex he says he wants and he said something about all his energy tied up in concentrating on controlling his hyped-up state of mind. Another excuse? I don’t know. Maybe. Maybe not.

Remember how I said that he went on and on about how much having a home business meant to him and that that’s why I shouldn’t be getting mail here in bogus names (so as to not appear suspicious and like scammers)? Well, he contradicted that statement last night when he said that as long as he’s with me, that’s just a minor and unimportant thing. I’m flattered to be his #1 and he’s my #1, but I wonder if he changed his story about the home business idea in the hopes of me thinking more about him and less of a kid and how our sex lives are. Get it? So I’d do more talking about how important he is and less talking about sex/kid so he doesn’t have to hear it and deal with it. He is my #1 and he is the most important thing. My only beef with him, besides my beef with God, is that he stops lying and denying his fears and lack of desire for normal full-time sex and a kid. That’s all.

He reminded me of how I made the choice to get married and stay in this marriage, knowing how our sex lives were up front. Yes, I did. And yes, if God and Tom have decided that my being with Tom means never having a child and never going to a doctor about it, then yes, I choose my husband over a child any day. God wouldn’t allow me to have a child no matter who I was or wasn’t with, but for the love of my husband, who’s the only one I ever seriously wanted a kid with, I’d give that up, even if I could have a child if that’d make him happy. I began my talk about my desire to have a child in my early-mid 20s, but the desire to have one before I met Tom and after meeting him, is like the difference between night and day. There’s no comparison. But due to my love for him, I won’t have a child and I won’t go to the doctor. Not even if I could fight fate and win. Not as long as he doesn’t want that, but I just wish he’d come out and say so!

Another thing that kind of bugged me when he mentioned how I chose to get married knowing how our sex lives were, was that I trusted him. It was rather naïve of me to trust him, but when he told me he’d cum and cum regularly, I believed him and took him for face value.

Anyway, like I said before, I’m not about to live the rest of my life with these bitter and resentful feelings towards both God and Tom. I don’t want to live with the frustration, anger, sadness and feelings of what I’ve been cheated out of having. I may have been denied one of nature’s most precious gifts, but I’m not gonna give God, the devil, whoever the fuck it is, the satisfaction of seeing it get to me. As for Tom, if I just remind myself that I don’t want this as much as I used to, which is true, and of what a lousy mom I’d really have made, and of what it’d do to us physically and mentally, and of how he’s my #1 and therefore, I have no right to force him to do something he doesn’t want to do, I can live more peacefully. I guess in a sense, I owe him. Meaning, he has more of a right to take away something from me (if God already hadn’t) than I do to make him do something he doesn’t want to do. The man takes care of me, after all. If it weren’t for him, I’d have no place to live, no food to eat, and no animals, computers, and so much more.

Now here’s something that’ll be quite the shocker, since I always used to bitch about it. I was pissed last night that he wouldn’t touch me cuz of his anger and I felt spited, but today’s little tease was actually a blessing. He came out of the shower naked and when he does that, that usually means he’s gonna go straight to the bed for us to have fun but instead, he sat down in front of the TV. Then after a little while, he said he was going to lie down. I kind of felt apprehensive about this, cuz I was not only not in the mood to screw, but it’s not always so easy to bounce right back into the sack with him after last night and knowing that this same old cycle’s gonna go on and on and on. I guess in a way I can relate to his inability to express his true feelings about the idea of a normal full-time sex life and the idea of a child, cuz I know how hard it is to look the one you love in the eye and say “no” to something you know that they really want that you don’t want.

Well, this is when we ended up having our little chat about his hyper side and how he deals with it and it was actually kind of nice. The closeness and conversation mean a lot to me, too, besides the actual sex acts and I didn’t feel as self-conscious as I thought I would. Sometimes talking with him can be like walking on eggshells, cuz where I’m really picky about the housekeeping in here, he’s really picky about what’s said to him and how it’s said. Nonetheless, I don’t think he did have any intentions of touching me, but I’m sure he wouldn’t have stopped me if I had touched him. He’d just have no doubt had a hard time getting and staying hard and he sure as hell wouldn’t have cum. So, like I said, I kind of know what it’s like not to say no to someone you love, cuz there’s been times when he’s initiated sex when I wasn’t in the mood, but out of my love for him, I couldn’t say no. I still enjoy the touching and whatever we do, even if I don’t always get off. I do get off most of the time, though. So, I wouldn’t have said no to him if he’d touched me, even though he’s not your typical male who would’ve had a problem with that, and even though he cums so rarely, but I would say no to something as serious as a child if I didn’t want that.

I’m also doing something that I should’ve done a long time ago. Again, all in the love for this man. I started to pick up the phone and do it the night we had our spat, but he said no, and I put the phone down. He said he’s not telling me what to do and that I have to make up my own mind about dumping Kim. Sure I do. Sure he can’t tell me what to do. It’s my decision, and as much as I love Kim dearly, this decision just doesn’t break my heart like the idea of it did after the shit with her, Phil and Alex first went down, and that’s cuz my love for him has grown over time.

I still believe what I believe and that’s that Tom got jealous and I know that we all didn’t do a damn thing wrong, let alone do anything wrong deliberately. Tom’s not as jealous as he used to be, now that he knows and trusts me more, but I’m no idiot, either. He said he can sleep through noise he knows is gonna occur while he’s asleep. Yeah? He sure did sleep well through those damn Mormon’s kids screaming that he knew was gonna occur and they made way more noise than the 4 of us did and he knew that that’d occur, too. So, nothing’s changed as far as what I believe, but I’m gonna stop all contact with Kim. Alex only occasionally emails me and that I can deal with and that’s not obvious to Tom, as it is when Kim calls or writes. If Tom feels so hurt by these people, then I don’t want these people connected to me and therefore connected to Tom, no matter who I believe was in the right. Tom’s voice is back on our outgoing message and I told him to ignore any calls that may come in with her number. I’ll no longer write to her, either, and as much as I’ll miss her and as much as I love this dear friend of mine (not that I ever expected to see her again), she’s just gonna have to wonder what the hell ever happened to me just like Bob will (thank God Phil wasn’t a friend of mine prior to his coming here!). This is what I want and the way it has to be from now on.

Later…

I feel a little guilty about dumping Kim, I’ll honestly say, but what the hell? I mean, Jenny dumped me after a 12-year friendship. She ended up doing me a favor, which I would’ve done if she hadn’t, seeing that we weren’t getting along, but I know I’m doing the right thing and what’s best. I have the good times to remember and who knows? Maybe our spirits really do meet up with those we knew somehow, somewhere, after we die. Maybe I’ll see her in the sky someday or wherever we go when we’re done with our bodies. That is, if such a thing really exists and if God doesn’t burn me in hell or reincarnate me.

SUNDAY, SEPTEMBER 21, 1997 The maroon car visited later in the evening, but other than that, I haven’t heard any doors or barks since I’ve been up and have been up since 1:45 PM. I’m still just about positive that they got the dog under control. If it had really run off, they’d have been over here asking questions. If it did run off, and like I said, I’m sure it didn’t, God’s gonna replace that with something else. What would they do if it really ever ran off, I wonder, besides accusing me? Would they get a new dog? Or would they crank the music back up?

Later…

Yup, the dog’s next door and probably in the carport. Of course, or else they’d be blasting music and knocking on this door about it.

Well, since it can see more than those two dogs can from its position, I just hope nothing goes on in the streets at night to stir it up like stray dogs or cats roaming around much, and thank God they’re not home much during the daytime which would cause it to bark more for attention. Even if a dog is used to its surroundings, it will bark if someone or something passes nearby. So, something must’ve set the beast off 3 weeks ago for it to suddenly decide to pitch a fit at 2 AM.

Other than that, all’s been peaceful with our sick little fucks. That maroon car came to see them last night, but the door slamming has been at a minimum. Even though I’d still take anything over bass, oh how I still miss those months when there was no car or dog! Well, even if he moves - the dog won’t. Also, as it continues to cool down, the boys will be back to play ball and no new and unfamiliar car will stop them, either. They’ll just go ask permission to play and she’ll gladly give it to them. Especially on account of me. I’m sure the lock’s long gone now, too.

I was surprised to get on AOL so easily at 9:33 on a Sunday night. Sometimes it’s impossible to get on for 20 minutes, other times you get right on. AOL’s got their asses covered now. No one can sue them anymore cuz now they claim that you can’t necessarily get online on the first try. They could’ve saved themselves 4 million bucks if they’d just said that up front.

For the first time in months, it was actually a bit chilly out when I just went outside for a moment. That fall feeling is just starting to set in and it’s now just about dark at 7:00. Of course, if someone just went outside in Massachusetts, it’d be a lot more than just a bit chilly!

SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 20, 1997 Oh, what a night it’s been so far! Before I get into it, let me update on next door first. There have been no door slams yet, but the little beast apparently got loose last night at around 4 AM. Both Tom and I could hear it yipping away out in the street. Guess hooking dogs to cars doesn’t work very well. Right after I last wrote, at around 8-something, I heard a couple of doors, then again at 10-something.

So, I ran and prayed to God that the dog would run like hell and never be found (of course, I’m sure that if that had happened they’d think that I was behind it), but I know better. I’m sure it just hung out by the house and was leashed back down later. I thought I heard a couple of barks earlier, but am not totally sure it was that dog. It could’ve been the old man’s dog since the barks are similar.

Other than that it’s been surprisingly quiet so far, throughout the weekend and I guess that that means that they think I’m gonna do something, so they’re behaving so it won’t look bad for them in the court they think they’re gonna have to take me to.

Yesterday I got 9 Christmas labels from the address label company I use. I put 5 of them in journals and I guess I’ll use the rest on Kim and Paula. The Wildlife Federation also sent me animal stickers and address labels. Again, the stickers, which were of daisies, wolves, rabbits, ducks, birds and fish, went in journals and on envelopes. With them and the HS taking care of me, I don’t need to order new fancy labels from Colorful Images, and besides, I don’t write many letters anymore.

Once again, something’s acting like I’m not sterile and like it not only wants to prevent a pregnancy here but prevent us from having a full-time sex life. It’s like something was up there saying, “Oh yeah? That’s what you think!” when we said we were gonna “just do it.” Why?! When is it ever gonna leave us alone?!

We were talking about Cindy, who went over and talked and talked Ma’s ear off cuz she has no friends. I then asked him why he didn’t have friends, besides me, of course. He said it was cuz I’d get jealous. I told him I wouldn’t and that I trusted him. Then I told him that I thought that that was his department and reminded him of how he’s shown jealousy of Kim in the past, which he denies. Then he got angry and said he was going to bed. I told him that I thought he said he didn’t spite me out of anger, so what’s the big deal? I just couldn’t figure out why he was so angry and he said it was cuz I brought up the past when Kim, Phil and Alex visited. He said he’s never gotten over that and that we’ll always disagree about what happened and that we deliberately were disrespectful and did this deliberately, which is such bullshit. Kim, Phil, Alex and I have better things to do than intentionally fuck someone over. Rather than stick around to make him miserable, I’d never have been here in the first place and I asked him, “What? Do you think I deliberately fucked you over?” “You’ve been doing it for years,” he said. Now that really hurt. If I’ve been deliberately fucking him over for years, then how can he say he loves me? And what am I doing here? Because he loves me, he says, and chose to move on.

Well, first of all, I thought we had agreed that we could talk about things we disagree on without getting each other angry. He said we could express our thoughts even if we disagreed and I did not bring it up to deliberately anger him. He said he understood that, but it’s things like this that make me believe all the more that cuz of this and other things, he’s deliberately spiting me by having our sex lives be the way it is and by making sure I don’t get pregnant (not that I could or that God would allow us a normal sex life and a child).

So, he said he was sorry for getting angry, although he couldn’t help his feelings, and I said I was sorry too, and wished I’d known better and was sorry for yelling at him and calling him names, but when am I ever gonna learn to stick to what I say and just forget about having sex with this man and move on? I don’t want sex or a child, whether that’s possible or not, with a man who feels I’ve deliberately hurt him and with a man that I believe is out to spite me and deny me the things I’ve wanted real bad, cuz of any hardships that I’ve unknowingly and unintentionally placed on him.

He said he wasn’t trying to spite me and it was just that love, sex and anger didn’t mix for him. Well, he can do what he wants and I told him so, but not only am I very self-conscious of what I say, but I’m also all the more paranoid and suspicious of his true intentions with me and it just makes me all the more OK with not having normal full-time sex and a child and that bed and the gum to try to quit smoking and a job or anything. I just don’t want to do anything.

Maybe it’s all in his subconscious and he’s not consciously aware of what he’s doing, but he’s been jerking me around and contradicting me in matters of sex and a kid since 1993, and I’m really afraid that this is gonna lead to me not only never touching him again, but lead to me wanting to cheat on him (not that the world of lesbianism and God’s opinion on that, when it concerns me, has changed). I haven’t seriously wanted to, but what if I do? What if I want to cheat on him? What if I want to leave him? I love this man to death, in spite of all I feel he’s done to me both wonderful and not, but how many years does he think he can do this to me and expect me not to develop desires of cheating and or leaving?

Well, if he loves me so much, as he says he does, and if he really doesn’t want to lose me, then after all these years, he’ll change. I don’t know if God will let him, cuz God doesn’t want me involved in any kind of a normal sex life. Never has. Never will. But maybe his actions will someday match a bit closer to his words, even if that idea is just one big dream in my mind.

Although his ways help an awful lot to snuff the intensity of my dreams for a child and for normal sex as the years pass by, how would he like to die and come back as a woman and get the same treatment? How would he like to be spited sexually and made to feel like an abnormal, freaky, fluke of nature and have his dream denied? All with the help of God while the guy ran around saying that everything was fine and remained in denial year after year and refused to get help. Even if God didn’t deny him that dream, a guy like this would.

And when am I gonna have the self-respect I strived for so many years to obtain and stop letting this man, who’s just as guilty as God is, and who stole then snuffed my dreams from me, take advantage of me? If I could just get myself to quit any sex forever with him, he can’t have the satisfaction of spiting me, but you know what? He’d go and spite me some other way. If he’s that determined to spite me, he will one way or the other and perhaps the only reason he supports me and doesn’t push me into getting a job, is so he can have me available for him to spite, and maybe a little bit out of guilt, too. He denies it (not that someone spiting another would ever fess up) and says he’s got better things to do with his life, but that’s like someone saying they’re wearing a red shirt that’s really blue.

FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 19, 1997 Andy’s here now, checking out stuff on the web. He got here about 20 minutes before Tom left for work, with a shirt from Laura. It’s a short cotton, wide-necked shirt with short fringes.

Andy really liked the latest wall art and the new journals.

I really worry about him at times, though. I said I’d introduce him to Spunky and he said I already did, though I know I didn’t. And he asked me if I met Laura before.

Good, God! Is he that bored and lonely? Or does he have a brain tumor? I hear him talking to himself, too. That’s fine. We all do that every now and then, but I’ve never heard him at it like this before.

Later…

Andy just left, after I printed out an article for him.

I got an early 80s CD in the mail from Columbia House’s series. Unfortunately, there are only a couple of songs on it I like and I already have them on tape. They’re still nice to have on CD.

Little did I know that it’d be Tom reading John Saul’s new book, but he’s been reading it and he says it’s OK.

The Blackstone Chronicles are great. The usual to be expected from him. I finished part 5 and am now on 6 - the conclusion. Then, it’s back to my second Clare McNally book.

Hopefully, this upcoming trip of Andy’s will “set his head straight,” so to speak. I told him I worry about him for saying he’s seen this new GP and even he said he worries about himself.

On his way out the door, he told me he had a phone card so maybe he’ll call me from the beach.

Oh, God! Give me a break! We talk enough here.

When he returns, though, I’ll be made to make up for lost time. He’ll want to talk for an hour at the very, very least for a good 3 days in a row.

I’ll sign off now hoping for a third peaceful weekend, but I think that’s really pushing it.

I guess we’re gonna be going to look at beds this Sunday, but I don’t know. We’ll just have to wait and see what happens, but bye-bye!

Later…

This last book of Saul’s 6-part series really makes me wonder more about my worst fears - divine retribution. You don’t run around sterilizing people for no reason. Or hexing them sexually. Or knocking an ear off. Or killing two kids. Especially when it’s all in the same family, too. So, knowing that there’s an obvious curse in my family when it comes to kids and sex, I think that someone in the family, long before I was born, had to do quite a number on some children sexually and so Tammy, Larry and I are paying for it. My sister can’t cum, my sex life’s been a fluke, two of Larry’s kids were killed, then there’s my ear and my sterility. So something up there obviously felt the need to get us sexually and where kids are concerned.

Alright, I’m not gonna sit and listen to the door slamming that just started, so I’ll go listen to music, then return later.

Later…

Tom got his car fixed but needs a good two hours to put it back together. So, due to having to do that and his having to string those phone wires at Mary’s house, we won’t be going to look at beds this weekend. I also wonder, as I’ve said before, if he’s getting a touch of cold feet.

Earlier we agreed again that we could talk about the things we want to do all we want, but this time, for once and for all, we’re gonna do them too, but this is still one big joke after all these years. If something hasn’t wanted us to do the things we’ve wanted to do at this point, then we never will. I told him, “We’ll do what we say we’re gonna do as long as we’re comfortable with it.” Then he said, “We’ll try our best to do what we want to do and not worry about what we have no control over and just deal with it as best we can.” In other words, what he’s really trying to say is that he has no control over his fears and lack of desire to cum much, so he won’t, and we’ll just deal with that. “I can’t guarantee you’ll get pregnant this month,” he said during our Tuesday chat. Really? No shit!!!

A year ago, some old lady came to Ma’s house. She lived there in the late 1920s and she wanted to look around. Just recently, ma was reading up on some old lady who was writing an autobiography, and parts of it were published in this paper. It said that the lady said she grew up in Phoenix and was describing how much it had changed over the years. She said she also went to visit the old house she grew up in and guess what? It was Ma’s house. She recognized the lady’s picture in the paper. Pretty neat.

The dog may have been in the carport last night, although I’m not sure, didn’t bark during the day and just a little bit in the evening. If that household is as empty as I think it is during the weekdays, it won’t bark as much as the two dogs do, cuz where those dogs live, there are always some there 24/7. I think it’s another Mormon family there and that they home-teach their kids. I don’t think they ever leave the house and if they do, it might only be for something like church or doctor’s appointments.

I would say that if they’re gonna be seeking revenge on me, it’ll be this weekend. I disagree with Tom, as far as how he says they wouldn’t make it obvious and it wouldn’t be deliberately aimed at me. I know a lot of it is cuz they just don’t care, rather than that they’re aiming it at me, but I think some of the things they’ve done have been deliberately aimed at me and very obvious, too.

Lately, I’ve been hearing horns honking a few times a day. I can’t say for sure which house it’s honking at, but it seems too coincidental, if you ask me, right after our little spat. From what it sounds like, it sounds like she gets dropped off, then this horn honks. Get it? As if she told the driver to do that for her in regard to me.

Tom said that that could be her brother named Michael for all we know and as I said before, some things have changed since this dude moved in. This teenage boy is suddenly there, there are car doors slamming instead of music, there’s this dog, the black guy that was talking to the white guy and then there were the boxes and the U-Haul. My guess, though, is that it is the Mike who first moved in.

The more I think about the feeling I have about them moving in December, the more it doesn’t make sense. Subsidized houses aren’t too easy to come by, therefore, if that’s really the case with them, why would they want to give that all up after just a year and a half? Another weird thing, though, is that if it were just her and her daughter to get the house subsidized (it’s her house and not his), then why would they give her a 3-bedroom, unless this teenage boy’s been there all along? And if the boy’s been there all along, why haven’t I seen him before? And if he did move in when Mike moved back in, why hasn’t he constantly played basketball?

Later…

Right after I last wrote there were at least two door slams, then 4 or 5 more at 7:30, which I thought was their weekend company finally come to return, but it wasn’t. Then I heard another car door a little while ago. Even at 11:15 last night, I heard one. How can I think this isn’t both obvious and deliberate? Newer car doors shut easily and quietly so it’s pretty obvious that this motherfucker’s deliberately slamming doors pretty hard and I highly doubt he just has to “get things” from his car this often. Yeah, I know you’re there you sick fuck!

I just heard the dog which will hopefully settle down for the night like it has been that I know of since that other night and it may be in the carport. For some reason, it’s kind of hard to tell, but I’d guess that 3 nights ago they moved it back to this very unusual spot. About 45 minutes ago I heard doors and someone rummaging around there (hooking the dog to their car), then some plastic-like object sliding, like maybe a dog bowl or a shit scooper. So, even though they may have an enemy that they fear may approach the house by way of the front or the back, it’s rather obvious that they put the dog there with the hopes that it’ll annoy me (although, Tom says that once a dog gets used to a new place, it’ll settle down in a day or two and I guess it already has). I mean, think about it - who would choose to put their dog and its shit and piss on concrete where you park your car, over grass? On the grass, the shit and piss won’t run and smear all over the concrete and the car’s wheels. It’s easier to scoop shit off of grass, and since you can’t scoop up every bit of it unless it’s super hard, it’ll get rained on, but what are they gonna do? Mop their carport regularly or hose it down, since it can’t rain in there, all in regard to me? And have it reek of piss which could seep into the ground if they had it where the grass is?

Yup, pretty sick fucks we got over there.

Anyway, a thought crossed my mind and made me wonder if maybe they want me to shoot their dog so they can take legal action against me. Maybe they do want an excuse. They obviously don’t give a shit about the dog, anyway, to be leaving it outside 24/7, so are their hopes of me shooting it and taking me to court more important than the dog? It looks that way not that I own a gun or would shoot it if I did.

The block wall runs from the front of the house, past it and to the end of the backyard. Their carport runs just about the length of the house and in the winters, he’s always parked the car just outside of the carport, where any door slamming isn’t as loud cuz it’s not parallel to the block wall and therefore, can’t funnel and enhance sound so much. However, and even though these are summer people, this winter may be different. The more I think about it, the more I don’t see them giving up a chance at a subsidized house so soon and they may very well be here till we move, so who knows what the December feeling’s all about and if he is here this winter, I think he’ll still park deep in the carport, parallel to the back room, so he can hook the beast to it and so I can hear the doors better.

Depending on what they do from here on out, I don’t know just how easy it’ll be to keep my promise to Tom and to do the right thing if there really is a right thing I can do, and if Tom really will help me. Sometimes I just think it’d be easier to go over there and beat the snot out of them. I can’t see them calling the cops on me for it. I think they’d be too embarrassed.

THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 18, 1997 I’ve been meaning to mention, but have kept forgetting, how much better my voice has become over the last year or two. Yes, I still can’t get through a song without having to stop and clear my throat, and I still have coughing and congestion that go with smoking, but nowadays, I’m almost never tight. More than half the time back east, it’d feel like a pitchfork was lodged in my throat, but now it’s almost always nice and open.

Tom put this really cool thing in my world that clears the scoreboard of that tiles game I like. My speed is so fast that I fill up the scoreboard and can’t get humanly faster enough to get into it, so I can clear it whenever I want at the click of a button.

He went to the library and picked up the remaining two parts of The Blackstone Chronicles and his latest book - The Presence. Again, another disappointment. I thought that The Presence meant I was in for one of his typical and great ghost stories, but nope. This is more like some science fiction crap that deals with some volcano erupting in Hawaii. Both Black Lightning, which was a murder mystery and this, has been disappointing and I hope he goes back to his usual style like with The Blackstone Chronicles, Suffer the Children, Nathaniel, Second Child, Comes the Blind Fury, Punish the Sinners, etc.

That book I just read called Ghost Light by Clare McNally was great and I’m starting her Stage Fright book and hope to read others by her that seem to be mainly supernatural terror.

The freeloader’s beast was back in the carport last night in the early evening. From about 9:30 on, I didn’t hear anything, but I don’t know. I don’t know what these assholes are up to and how people can be so rude, inconsiderate and just not give a damn about others, but I am gonna have them served if they or their dog become a problem. This is twice that I know of, that they’ve had this beast in the carport. Why such an odd place? Perhaps they’re scared of someone and perhaps that’s why they sometimes have it there so that the dog can see anyone approaching both the back and front of the house. After all, people like this do tend to make enemies. They just have a total “fuck you” attitude and it’s too bad that’s her dog and not his. It has to be her dog, cuz of how she said, “If anything happens to my dog,” and not “the dog,” or “this dog,” or “that dog.” If he left, that would cut out the door slamming and company, but the dog would still be there.

I asked Tom to see if he could find out at the library who owns that house and if there was maybe a landlord or someone we could call if we needed to, but as I expected, he said he’d be tired and would just want to run and grab books, then leave. Yes, I’m sure he was tired, but I also know he doesn’t want to do this, cuz I’ve mentioned it in the past. I wish he’d just say no to the things he doesn’t want to do!

I have a slight to moderate vibe that they may move in December. Of course, I don’t know if this really means someone’s gonna move in or out of that household like it’s meant in the past when I’ve gotten these feelings, but I still hope they move. I know God would replace me with neighbors with lots of little screaming kids, ball games and dogs worse than this, but the stress of any possible bass might be worth it and it just plain and simply nerves me up to know I live 3 feet away from people that are sick fucks who don’t give a shit. I mean, these are the types of people that for all I know, could shoot up the house or try burning it down. They are sick! They have no sense of empathy, guilt or feelings for others. No respect and no consideration whatsoever.

I’ve heard talk about this, but according to an ad in the TV guide, they have a brand of cigarette out now that’s 100% tobacco with no additives. I can’t wait to try these.

Now, for my pain in the ass best friend - well, I still wish he wouldn’t call 6 times like he did yesterday and leave me 3 messages in a day. I’ve told him before… I’m too busy and am just not into playing phone, but he just doesn’t care or get it. This shit he tells me can usually wait and I just wish he’d cut his calls/messages down to once or twice a week. This telling him one thing, then him doing another, may be connected to his memory loss problem that he says is getting worse, but I don’t know. His memory’s not that bad and he’s not stupid either, so I just think it’s a case of utter boredom and him just doing as he wishes to do.

He still doesn’t know when he’s leaving but will be leaving within two weeks, although he says he doesn’t feel like he’s gonna be leaving at all. Well, I’ll be looking forward to him and Michelle not only getting the new car and seeing Xena and Stevie but also the break from the constant calls/messages. Sometimes a few days will pass when I don’t hear from him, but these few days that pass just aren’t often enough. It doesn’t mean I’m sick of him or don’t want to hear what he has to say, it’s just that he goes on and on and I’m just not into sitting on the phone for 1-3 hours like he still is.

Anyway, he told me he’s always had memory problems so it can’t be all pot-related, then he outgrew it for a while and now it’s back stronger than ever. He ate a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, then couldn’t remember what he’d just eaten afterward. He’d go to call someone and forget who he’d be calling as the phone started ringing. He’d forget people’s appetizers at work before their main courses. So, we discussed the possibilities - the pot, the stress, the loneliness, a physical problem, but then Tom told me later that to him, it sounded like pure boredom. I think he’s right. This guy is very lonely with no life other than his work and pot. I feel bad for him. My life changed out here and his didn’t. He’s still into the same old things with the same old losers and it’s kind of sad. I may have a fluke of a sex life, no chance at having a child, and my own moments of feeling like I have a stagnant life but still, unlike him, I do have a life. Even he admits he doesn’t like doing anything. He hates writing, and reading and has no computer to enjoy.

Well, Andy will be enjoying the computer tonight, more than likely, to check out Stevie. He said he’d be by between 10 PM-midnight, but that depends on if he can use Laura’s car.

There goes door slam number two from next door just now. So, about 4 more to go.

Later…

Andy may be here between now and midnight. More like 11:00 to midnight. If not, I guess he’ll visit tomorrow night. I’d prefer him to come over when Tom’s not asleep, though, so he can see the latest wall art in the bedroom.

I read that ad wrong. It didn’t say 100% tobacco with no additives; it said 100 % tobacco with no additives. So, I guess they still contain nicotine. I wonder when they’re gonna come out with cigarettes that don’t have any nicotine? What’s taking so long?

WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 17, 1997 Got a letter from Kim a couple of days ago and she sent two pictures. She still looks the same, as far as her clothing styles go, and she might’ve lost a bit of weight, but yes, her hair is different. It’s almost to the middle of her back and it’s quite thin, compared to mine, but it does look a lot better than the short curly layers. I’ll have to ask her where these pictures were taken and who the two guys are that are standing by her in one of them. I guess one of them would be Walter, but she didn’t say.

Yesterday after Tom got home, we had a talk. I know it was just that - talk, but it still made me feel better, cuz I was feeling a bit down again. I still know damn well that full-time normal sex and a child aren’t in our cards, whether or not we get the bed, but sometimes it helps to talk about things you can’t have, anyway. Of course, my dear, sweet, loving husband was going along with me, not cuz he didn’t know any better, but cuz he wanted to cheer me up, too, and I do appreciate this. It’s not like he was kidding me with anything I really believed could or would happen when he told me what I wanted to hear and what I wished could really happen.

He told me, “he’s been ready” and that he was just waiting till I’d simmer down the anger, yelling, and name-calling spells. He said, “Do it.” If I want more sex and to see who’s right - just do it. I know that’s easier said than done and I know who’s right, but the most important thing is that I felt better. It’s important that I learn things to make me feel better whenever I feel brought down by what I can’t have and any abnormalities I have to live with. This is all I can do for the rest of my life so that I can keep on going and keep on living life.

TUESDAY, SEPTEMBER 16, 1997 When David lived here, he put up two little old ugly ceiling fans/lights in the back room. Well, one of them broke completely and the other’s screwed up, old, ugly and not worth fixing, so we’re gonna get a new light, that’ll hopefully match the one Tom just got and replaced one of them with. It’s a nice fluorescent light, but it’s very dim. It’s not a good reading or writing light at all, but it’s good to enhance the two lamps we’ve had in here for projects like redesigning Teddy Bear’s cage. Again these are just lights we’re replacing this with and not lights with fans, so we’ll buy another fan on a stand for back here if we want.

Tom did a great job of installing it and it also looks really nice. It’s very modern and does a lot to help the looks of this old, dark, ugly room. I say old, cuz the room’s old. I say ugly, cuz it is. I say dark, cuz most of the walls back here have brown paneling and the two long windows in front and one window that’s on the side facing the assholes, are up high. There are also two smaller ones that used to look out onto W. Weldon. That was before the garage was put up to replace the carport. One early evening David was out, someone broke in through the side door of the house that’s off the kitchen, leading to the garage. I’m glad David had a pool and a garage put in, but I still can’t wait to move to something bigger and more modern and that doesn’t have a house 3 feet away. If we had had a kid, the spacing of the houses wouldn’t matter, cuz our own house would be filled with lots of noise of its own, so then I’d just have wanted something bigger and more modern.

Believe it or not, we screwed yesterday, but if it had been left up to him, I’m sure we wouldn’t have. I went and told him that since we both say we want more fun, why not take this time while we’re both awake and available to do it before getting on with other stuff? So, we did and there was the usual excuse alright, but guess what? It wasn’t his! No, thanks to our beautiful God who always has to make sure there’s a problem, I was rather dry the last few times and the area was getting irritated. So I stopped him before it could get any worse, but fate will make sure there’s something else the next time.

We teased each other and Tom was saying I was scared. I reminded him that that’s his department and that if I thought I was OK and was really afraid to get pregnant, I wouldn’t have been scared yesterday, seeing that it’s the wrong time of the month for conception. On the other hand, I’m sure God would’ve made it the right time if he knew I didn’t want a child. I appreciated having a man so understanding and not bothered at all by the fact that I had to stop him, but that’s just it. He just seemed too elated to stop and although I’m blessed with a guy like him, it just doesn’t seem normal. Is there anything that’s ever been that normal when it comes to my life, anyhow? No, the bulk of my life and the bulk of those I’ve known were either very different or very abnormal. All in good and bad ways, but mostly bad. I’m not saying that Tom’s mostly bad, though, or else I wouldn’t be with him. It’s just that his ways in bed really make me wonder about him. All I ever seem to have when it comes to sex, Tom and God and the whole damn situation is suspicions, theories and questions, but never any answers. And wishes and complaints, but never any solutions.

Why does he want to see me hurt by him sending off messages about the bed changing our sex lives when I know it won’t? Sometimes I don’t know if it’s simply a case of over-optimism or overconfidence with him. He can’t be that naïve. I think deep down he knows better and only he can change our sex lives. And only God can allow us a child. Another way I can tell that God’s dead-set against us ever having a child and that it’s surely not meant to be is that I know God can do anything. Therefore, if it were really meant to be, he’d make sure that either one of his precum sperms had made a baby or one of the times he’s actually cum. He could help us if he wanted to. But he doesn’t want to. He doesn’t want us to have a child.

MONDAY, SEPTEMBER 15, 1997 Well, the effects of Hurricane Linda have brought some moisture and drizzle to PHX this morning. We’re not gonna get anything like the massive storm we got hit with last week. Tom said it’ll only storm like that once every 5 years. I can’t wait to see how the roof leak is doing at this point since Tom put all the coatings on, but it’ll have to do a little more than just drizzle before we can see how it’s working. I still won’t believe it’s fixed till I see it if I see it.

I chatted with Andy the other day. All’s fine at work as we figured it would be. He said yes, he’s made some comments to him, but not direct hits. Meaning, he wasn’t hitting on the guy cuz the guy wasn’t his type. The guy was talking about sex in general, as he says the whole restaurant always does, and Andy was simply responding back. Not hitting on him. But I guess like he said, the guy got mad at him for something else, so he took that as an opportunity to flatter himself.

He still doesn’t know when he’s leaving. He has to wait till his folks buy the new car and for Evan to send his plane pass so Andy can fly for only $60. This is cuz Evan’s a mechanic for United Airlines and Evan even has his own 3-seat plane that he built himself. Pretty good for a guy 13 years younger than Marla, much less mature than she is, and who’s just your typical male who thinks below the belt only at all times. I envy her, for that part of it, but at the same time, I know that if Tom turned into your average guy sexually, I’d get sick of that too, in time.

I never met Evan, but it seems he’s an odd pick for Marla. When they got married, Marla was mature, but he was still practically just a kid.

It was another very peaceful weekend here. The dog’s been fairly quiet in the days and all’s completely silent around here at night. Like I said, the winter will change all this, but all I ever heard all weekend was a couple of door slams. To my knowledge, they played no music and there was no company, either.

The fact that there hasn’t been any company or much door-slamming for two weekends in a row brings me to a few theories. If they’re not waiting to jump out at me with noise, after having me think all will remain peaceful, then maybe they’re keeping such a quiet low key in case I do shoot their dog. It wouldn’t look good in court for them if I said they’d been harassing me with noise. Or maybe they just don’t want to do anything to provoke me into not only shooting their dog, but me taking them to court. So, so far, it looks like they don’t want trouble any more than I do, which is cool with me.

OK, I guess that’s it, so now I might as well get into the usual topic of discussion. You got it - sex and a kid. Yesterday and the evening before that, I was kind of bothered again by the reality of the fact that there’s no full-time normal sex life for us or a kid. Still, I just don’t know what to truly believe. My mind goes back and forth from - if this guy wanted to fuck with you as far as sex and a kid goes, he would fuck with you in all areas and wouldn’t show such love, caring, understanding and so much more for you with non-related subjects. Then I go to - a bad person doesn’t have to be all bad and even those who are mostly of good intentions, have their flaws and dark sides. He’s a slick, smart guy who could easily bullshit you. Anyone can hurt you in a couple of areas, yet be so wonderful otherwise and you know how it is - if you can’t trust your own parents, who can you trust?

From now on, though, I’m gonna go by people’s actions and not their words, cuz actions speak louder than words. As long as his mouth says he wants normal sex full-time, but his actions don’t, I’m not gonna push it. And as long as his mouth says he wants a kid, but his actions don’t, I’m gonna avoid sex during prime time cuz he thinks I’m fertile. I really mean it when I say that his words say one thing and his actions say another. My husband who declares such horniness and such a desire for more sex, wouldn’t even go on top yesterday. He just got me off by going in our side position, then stopped a few minutes after I came saying something about his back being tired and not wanting to strain it so he has to sleep it off or get an injury. In other words, he wasn’t in the mood. Then right after this, he took a nap and I wouldn’t be surprised if he took care of himself. The only thing that doesn’t fit, is why would he worry now? He could get off in me if I was the most fertile woman in the world and nothing would happen.

And of course, he just had to go and break another promise. Today’s the day that was supposed to have been enough time for me to see how much more he suddenly squirts. Yeah, right! He’s so full of shit and although he can smoothly cover up his lies about wanting a kid and more sex, I still can see right through him as good as he is. So he’s a good liar, but a bad one, too. He knows that all I can do with what I see him do is suspect, but I can’t truly prove a damn thing, even if it is so obvious if that makes any sense. He’s not stupid, so no matter how obvious his actions are towards something, he’s not gonna admit what he’s really up to and what he really feels/wants and he’ll always make excuses in the meantime.

Even if I were OK, we could never have a child with the way our sex is, unless we got very lucky and had a good God on our side (or at least on my side) and he knows this. And if I’m not OK, but were fixable, even though I know I’m not OK and not fixable, we’ll never get to a doctor, cuz we’ll never have the full-time normal sex for a good solid year or so to see just who’s right, therefore, we can’t go to a doctor. We could, but we never will, cuz he’ll just keep on running around saying year after year that I’m fine and that we’ll have that normal full-time sex life. Meanwhile, the years will pass by and it’ll be too late to see a doctor about both the sex and the sterility, whether or not I really wanted to. I would think that most couples would’ve gone to a doctor about both the sex and the sterility a good two years ago, but this man obviously does not want a child, and doesn’t give a shit about normal full-time sex, therefore, he’s not gonna do a damn thing to help us. He’ll just do everything to prevent the pregnancy he thinks can occur, and also, everything to prevent finding out that just maybe I really am sterile, so he doesn’t have to deal with getting the help that he doesn’t want.

Just because I’m used to his lies pertaining to sex and a kid, doesn’t mean I have to hear it. I’m sick of him denying that there’s a problem here with both the sex and my plumbing and saying one thing while doing another. I’m tired of God’s lack of help and lack of caring and of Tom’s denial and fears holding us back from at least having normal sex. Regular sex where we both get off regularly. “Don’t worry at least for the next few months,” he had the nerve to say. Whether or not we get this bed, and it appears that that idea’s getting a little scary to him, since he’s made no move to take out a loan yet, along with the fact that he loves to make me wait on him, nothing’s gonna change. How stupid does he think I am? Does he really think he can keep lying to me and saying the same things and lies he’s been telling me from the get-go for the rest of our lives? He obviously does, cuz after 4 years, there’s still no end in sight to his lies. And still no sign of any God deciding to step in and help and end this one way or another, be it by me needing a hysterectomy, or by Tom changing and putting his actions where his mouth is, or by Tom admitting the truth. However, could it be, just could it be that yes, he held back from cumming altogether, then decide a few squirts here and there was OK cuz it wouldn’t be too bad of a time for a kid at that point should it happen, but was really just waiting for what he felt was the perfect time to really let go (the bed in this case)? Sounds too good to be true, so no, he is who he is and there’s no changing how he is and what he wants in bed, and as far as a kid goes.

Well, I’m not gonna humiliate myself and let him play me for a fool year after year. I mean, he’s won, he’s got me blocked in a corner and I can’t get out. I can’t yank the truth out of his mouth and I can’t make him put his actions where his mouth is, but until and if I ever see differently, and I know I won’t, he’s full of shit! So year after year, since this shit’s obviously never gonna end and get old in Tom’s/God’s eyes, I’ll just be like “mm-hmm” every time he swears I’m OK, we’ll have the kind of sex we say we want, and a kid as well. I know the truth and since I’m the only one here willing to face that truth, all I can do is live my life catering to his desires and fears and just accept the fact that I couldn’t have a child, even if God would allow it. He is the man I love and therefore, I must do what makes him happy. I don’t want to throw things on him that’ll just scare him or turn him off in any way. So, I’ll just take actions that’ll suit his actions and just try to go deaf when he tells me his bullshit.

Another thing he said that kind of hurt my feelings was after I asked him to maybe think about seeing other women to fill in the gaps, but he said he didn’t love other women. He said that sex to him, has nothing to do with lust, but rather it’s an extension of his love. “What? Do you love me part-time?” I asked him.

He said no, he loves me full-time. Well, I’m sure he does. Out of bed. But in bed, yes he does love me part-time. I’m not stupid here and I know it’ll be at least a week before he’ll touch me again. He’ll be too busy, my schedule will go wacky, or he just won’t take any available opportunities that are there. At least he always loves me when I’m sick or if I need something. He picked me up some new pens yesterday, which was nice of him, and I needed them, too. He got me more plain white paper, too, for my journal drafts.

I’d also still like to know why it is that something up there is acting like I’m really not sterile and that it’s just waiting for the right time. There is no right time. It is not meant to be. So, what the fuck is it all about? Why is it acting like something that can’t possibly be? Cuz if it were meant to be, it’d have been by now. Also, guys like Tom don’t change, so it’d have to make sure we kept missing it, which we didn’t cuz I know we hit right a good 5 times or so, then have Tom miraculously change and things like that just don’t happen. Why would it wait till a certain time, then miraculously fix me, then have Tom be suddenly much hornier and not afraid to deal with the consequences, sacrifices, and responsibilities that go with me either having a miscarriage or a kid?

Well, now I gotta go eat, then do up some letters for Kim, Paula and Larry.

Later…

You know, it really annoys me to have to be interrupted from what I’m doing just to hear Andy say one word (lonely) on the machine. I’m sorry he’s lonely, but I wish he’d either talk about it or hang up before the machine came on. On the other hand, I don’t really dig it when he constantly leaves long messages, either, of non-important stuff that can wait till we both are in the mood and available to talk. He just doesn’t get it, though, and if he doesn’t by now, he never will. What if we had had a kid? The guy would go crazy. He would still expect me to be there for him on the phone nearly every day and that just couldn’t be.

I forgot to mention that I used my own address labels to redo my backup disk labels. It looks really nice and Tom said that’d be a good thing to market.

Tom got two loaves of bread since they had a buy-one/get-one-free deal. So, I gave the bird one loaf and they actually ate it before the ants did.

Later…

I guess we’re not gonna see the effects of Hurricane Linda after all. All we had were clouds and a bit of drizzle this morning, but since then it’s been bright and sunny.

Tom just got up and said he might see what’s wrong with his car (now that he took care of the roof, we hope, God had to make sure his car would be the time sucker, but if worse comes to worst, we can always use his ma’s car, then God can use something else to hog our time). So, I said to Tom, “Well, here’s the chance to do what we say we want to do and help ourselves to have more sex. It’s at the start of your day, I’m available, so why not play before checking out the car?”

Then he reminded me that each hour you put off doing the car, the hotter it gets. True, but it’s coming up on the hottest part of the day, so what’s one more hour? There’s always an excuse from Tom and of course, fate just has to put obstacles in our way, too, but OK, I’ll wait till the weekend.

Later…

Well, I just got hit with enough door-slamming to make up for the lack of it over the weekend. I not only heard a few around noon-1:00 since I think Mike comes home for lunch but just now there were 7 door slams. Yes, 7 door slams! How many people could be getting out of the car? And how many times can you forget things? If you’re unloading a car, you usually open the door and keep it that way till you’ve got everything out, then you shut the door. Is this a sign? Is this the start of the noise I still wouldn’t be surprised if I got hit with?

SUNDAY, SEPTEMBER 14, 1997 Today Sarah’s 7 and Kim’s 28. I left Kim a happy birthday message and called Tammy’s. Only Lisa and Bill were there the first time I called. Bill was out cutting trees and Tammy took Sarah and Becky to Hebrew school. The poor kid had to go to school on her birthday?

Anyway, Lisa and I talked and she sounded more uppity, although tired and bogged down with all kinds of homework and extra activities. She has close to an hour’s bus ride to and from school. The kids from Salem have to go to East Lyme. That’s the closest high school to her which sucks. She has to get up just before 5 AM and her bus comes at 6:20. Then school starts and 7:15. She must not even get home until close to 5 PM.

I called back later but accidentally hit Larry’s number. Sandy jokingly said, “Stop pushing my buttons!”

Then Larry got on and I mentioned that the pictures Ma sent of the plaque he had made up dedicating the business to Larry was really nice. Well, he wasn’t too thrilled about that. For reasons unknown to me, he said he wanted that kept private and was wondering how many others she passed those pictures out to. I offered to mail them back, but he said that was OK, I didn’t have to. Gosh, I feel bad cuz every time I call lately, I have bad or upsetting news that I don’t even know about.

Then I called the right number to get Tammy and wished Sarah a happy birthday. Then Bill got on and I asked him how the playing with himself was going since that’s what he said he was doing the last time we spoke. He laughed and said that Tammy was pissed off cuz the other kids stood Sarah up that was supposed to come over. They didn’t even call. That’s people for you - they love to stand others up.

Then Bill said in such a funny way that cracked me up, “By the way, use your own name for your fucking shit.” Meaning CDs and all that, but I assured him that I wouldn’t send anything there anymore although I know Tammy did and will continue to.

I also spoke to my folks, too.

SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 13, 1997 Tom just left to go see his ma and get her some bug spray and paper plates she needs. Then tomorrow, he’ll clean up some of her old roofing that blew off her barn while she’s at church.

He put more primer on our roof today and I guess he’ll put the final coating on tomorrow.

Now here’s what’s odd about him. I mean, it’s odd, but it’s not odd. He just got through saying yesterday how he wants more time with me and how he hopes to spend time with me today, but yet he never touched me and I’ve been up since 5:00. OK - so he’s not so gung-ho about having more sex and he’s certainly not gung-ho about cumming, and I’m personally not in the mood right now myself and feel that the sex is getting to be old news with him after all this time (it would’ve happened sooner if we had had sex regularly), but I still don’t see why the need to go and lie about it. Why not just tell your wife you don’t have much of an appetite and you don’t feel comfortable about cumming much, nor do you really want the responsibilities/consequences of a kid thrown on you? Why say something for years that you know you’re not gonna do? I guess he’s waiting till later in the afternoon to have sex, cuz then he’ll start tiring down by then since he’s been up since 3:00. That way he won’t cum with the combination of how long he’ll be up and with the fact that he says he doesn’t cum as much when he doesn’t screw as much. As if I could get pregnant at the end of my period, anyway, if I were OK - right! This is one of the safest times for a fertile woman, I don’t want a child all that much nowadays what with our ways/lifestyles and I don’t need to be laid so often, either, so I just wish he’d not only face reality and say what’s really on his mind and what he really wants but just relax more. He seems to be nervous in bed most of the time still. It’s unnecessary, though.

We went to the library yesterday and they finally had part 4 of John Saul’s 6-book Blackstone Chronicles, but this time, part 5 was missing. The librarian said the computer said they’re supposed to have 3 copies there, but obviously someone stole them, so she’s ordering a copy from another branch, so I can read the last two parts.

I also got a couple of supernatural suspense stories by some author I’ve never checked out before and so far, the one I just started seems good.

Then we went to Book Star and I got 3 journals. One of them is a “gay” journal which I was shocked to find. I guess maybe people have gotten less ignorant as I couldn’t imagine ever finding a journal like this when I first started writing. Anyway, it has quotes in it by gay celebs.

I was all psyched up to see that I could reply to Andy’s message the other day, but when I tried to for the second time, I got that message saying I couldn’t reply to a non-subscriber. This is a fucked-up phone company, alright.

Believe it or not, we may be getting the effects of Hurricane Linda. Yup, a hurricane to affect the desert. Never has this ever happened in Arizona or California and they say this is the biggest hurricane the East Pacific has ever seen. It’s a category 5 hurricane and it appears to be heading for the US, so by the early part of next week, we could get slammed with heavy winds, rain and flooding. I’m looking forward to it, though, and it sounds exciting. I just hope our roof is fixed by then if we do get anything here.

I had a very pleasant chat with Sandy this morning. We talked about how mom’s such an asshole most of the time. When she came to see Larry at work, according to her, she never asked to see her or Jen and that’s really low of her. I don’t think Sandy and Jen are so hurt over it, though. Sandy understands, though, that a lot of the way I was in the past was influenced by her and she knows from what Larry and I have told her how horrible it was to live with her. When I told her that I had told her off when I got older, she said, “Why can’t I get up the guts to do that?” We laughed, but I told her sometimes you just can’t help it and you really need to speak your mind, or else you’ll really blow up.

We laughed and joked about the weather and the pie incident and I told her more about the parts of my life from when Larry and I weren’t speaking. To explain to her why I believe there’s a reason for everything, I explained to her all the hell I had to go through in Deerfield and Norwich, which would ultimately lead me here. It was my only ticket out of there. She hates the winters there but doesn’t want to leave cuz she’s very close to her family and all her family is there.

We also talked about how we wish more people were open-minded towards things like gays and she asked me how gay bars were and said that if two people love each other - fine. Yeah, I’m not surprised, cuz I knew Sandy was the type to not be prejudiced. I think people have had more trouble with blacks than with gays. It’s just that a lot of people who happen to be troublemakers have black skin. Meanwhile, as we know, I’ve known some great black people. I wish next door was like Steve was. The difference between them is like night and day. I think so many of them are so aggressive cuz of how so many of them were slaves long ago, but that’s no excuse and no way to be accepted in society. When someone comes in here, like next door did, acting like they own the street and don’t give a shit about others, yeah, I have a problem with that, no matter what color they are.

Sandy also told me that she did want more kids but when she was 36, she had to have a hysterectomy cuz she had a tumor in her uterus. Her period wouldn’t stop and the doctor thought she was pregnant since some women get periods when they’re pregnant, but she said she just didn’t feel that way. It was a tumor the size of a tennis ball and she said what I’ve heard - that it’s common. Several others in her family have had this. It fucking figures, too, that someone who’s such a good parent has to undergo this, while millions of sick bitches go on to spit 6 of them out. What I wonder, though, seeing how common hysterectomies really are, is when is it gonna be my turn? Well, you know how it is; if it’s common, it isn’t me, but since I know damn well that I’ll never have a child, why not? I kind of wish it would happen to me, cuz I’d love not having to deal with periods like Sandy says she loves not having to, too, but maybe someday. I’m at a prime age for that and although it’d be scary and a bitch to have to go through yet more surgery, you’d think that God would think that a hysterectomy would be just perfect for me.

So far the weekend has been peaceful. Amazing, huh?

I rearranged Teddy Bear’s cage again and now it’s both tall and wide. I made dual rings. I have a Sam ring connected to a Play City ring. The hideaway, whose connector is partially broken, is now on one of the connectors on top of the newest cage. The rings are on the other connector. I have a long tunnel connecting the two Play City cages and another long one leading to the old purple plastic wheel where he’s now asleep.

Yes, I definitely need 1-2 more small critters. This is too much home for one little critter.

FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 12, 1997 Once again Teddy Bear’s in with the others using the wheel. But trying to keep Bunny from tipping it over is a whole different story.

The kittens are gone. After the weather cleared up, I decided it was best to see if the mother would return. She not only returned and drank some milk I left, but she also took and moved them.

Kim and Andy called with some nice news, which is fine, but am I ever gonna hear from Paula again? What? Did she just want a T-shirt from me? Well, I guess I’d hear from her sooner or later unless she’s beaten someone up again and has landed in jail. Anyway, hopefully, I’ll hear from her. As for Shelly, who knows if she’ll ever call or write? Maybe when she gets her feet on the ground, maybe not. It’s a bummer she never sent pictures, but hopefully, Paula will like she said she would.

Tom still says he doesn’t like not getting to be with me more often and that he wants more sex. I told him it’d be best if he’d just accept the fact that that’s not the way it works. He’s just too busy, he’s never gonna be in a position that’ll allow him to slow down, and we just weren’t meant for more time/sex together. Yeah, sometimes the opportunity’s there and he just doesn’t take it, but the rest of it is cuz this is the way God wants it to be for us and there’s nothing either of us can do to control or change that. He says he’s gonna win on that, but that’s what he’s been saying for years. Well, it’s a good thing that I’m not all gung-ho about going to a doctor as I might’ve been if I didn’t know that you can’t fight fate and all that and if the idea of a child was as appealing to me as it used to be. I don’t see any real reason why I wouldn’t snap my fingers and have us having a full-time sex life and a child if I could, but it’s not worth the bother of driving ourselves crazy over. Things are the way they’ve always been meant to be, and as I said, if I were gung-ho about a doctor, we’d never be able to go cuz my husband’s just too damn optimistic in such an unrealistic way. The reason we’d never be able to go to one is cuz he’d be too busy putting his energy into saying everything’s OK with me just like he has been and not doing something about trying to fix me. I’d be really devastated if I still wanted a child as bad as I did and if I thought a doctor could help cuz more than likely, the reason we’ll never go to a doctor is cuz we’ll never have full-time sex. According to Tom, you should only go to a doctor if you’ve had full-time sex for at least a year, and then haven’t conceived. Thank God that at least I know I’m sterile and that I know a doctor could never help, cuz then I can keep on living without feeling so miserable, angry, and like my husband’s cheating me out of anything. If I were OK, then I’d feel those feelings towards Tom for not having full-time sex with me, facing reality, and at God for not helping to make that possible. If I knew my sterility was fixable, then I’d feel those emotions at both of them, too, cuz I’d never get to a doctor with a God who doesn’t care to step in and help and with a husband running around saying I’m fine and that we will have more sex.

I was born sterile and one of God’s plans for me was to have an abnormal sex life. I am not gonna stress and frustrate myself any longer with trying to change this. It cannot be changed. I will always be sterile and my husband and I will always have sex in spurts. And he’ll never cum any more than he does and I don’t care what he says. It doesn’t bother me as much when he says we’ll have more sex and a child like it used to, cuz I realize that he has to be who he is and believe what he believes, whether it’s a totally crazy and unrealistic belief or not. What he believes won’t change things, either, so let him say his piece year after year as he does.

I got red and blue dog bone stickers from the Humane Society. I’ll use whatever my next journal is gonna be for those. Or I’ll stick them on envelopes.

Kim’s good news is that she and Walter are doing so well, that she may be moving in with him in Granby, MA sometime soon.

Andy’s good news is that instead of him flying home within the next few weeks, then driving the new car back, Michelle’s mother is gonna pay to fly her with him, then they’re gonna stop and see Xena on Broadway in New York that her mother will also pay for, then drive back here together. He said he also called Barbara Nicks and asked her to have Stevie fax her a tour guide, so they can see her somewhere along the way back here.

Andy’s bad news, yes, he had bad news, too, is that some other employee at work is charging him with sexual harassment. Now, I guess from Andy’s message, this doesn’t mean he’s taking him to court. This means that tomorrow at work, they’re gonna discuss it. He said at first he thought of quitting his job, but that others (he says everyone else is on his side) told him since he’s not guilty of anything, don’t run and make it look that way. Andy agreed and he’s not quitting. He says he didn’t sexually harass the guy and that the guy got mad at him for something stupid and that that’s why he’s doing this. That’s very possible, but I don’t know. He’s told me about others he’s made comments to in the past and I can see him cracking comments that a guy could take all wrong or get pissed off about, cuz straight guys are so damn paranoid. He told me there is someone there that he has the hots for, so I don’t know. Maybe it’s a combination of both.

Later…

Tom and I discussed moving to a rural town someday. He said in any big city or city that they expect to grow into a massive size, they’ll have houses 3 feet apart. He calculated us being here for 4 more years. That seems rather short for us, but if that were true, and if they did move from next door like I think they will, that’d mean 1-2 more neighbors to deal with over there. If it were at least 8 years that I feel we’ll be here, then you’re talking 3-4 more neighbors.

THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 11, 1997 Well, this period wasn’t as early or as fierce as the last two, luckily. Still having sex in spurts too, but I’m getting to the point where I’m comfortable with it, as I get more and more used to it. As for the kid - who cares that much anymore?

I’m no longer gonna keep a chart of my periods or when he cums. I know his cumming will be about 10 times a year, give or take a few, and I see no reason to chart my periods. It’s not important to me and most people usually only do that to see if there’s a problem. If something was wrong with my lungs or my heart or something vital like that that I need to be in good working order in order to live, that’d be different. Meanwhile, who gives a shit if a problem occurs with my plumbing? I don’t need that to work properly in order to live and half of it already doesn’t work, so what the hell?

I went cruising the web last night and visited some of Gloria’s galleries to see if there were any revisions. In doing so, I came across another image archive I’d either missed before, or that was recently added since it’s been a while since I last visited this site. Most of the pictures there were the same pictures from the individual galleries 1-7 that were there before, but I found some old ones that I used to love. Some of them were pictures I last had in CT.

I’m no longer into having pictures on the walls. I do have a few hanging around, but now I’m really into having pictures for my random wallpaper and screensavers. So I downloaded 28 new ones and I now have a group of about 40 pictures.

I spent a lot of time on the web during the night and morning hours yesterday and at one point I saw Dureen66 on my buddy list. So I sent an IM and got a reply saying, “I just came on to see if there were any messages.” Then I asked, “Is that you ma?” A response came back saying, “No, it’s Dad. Ma’s watching TV.”

Then I told him I was frustrated, trying to figure out how to download stuff since I did it before without any problem, told them I loved them, he said he loved me too, and that was that.

Then Tom left a message from his ma’s while I was online. I called him back and he told me to save the pictures and that that was the same as downloading. How stupid could I have been, not to realize that?! Then he came home a little while later and set things up for me.

In freeloader news, still nothing going on, but by this weekend I’m sure I’ll be logging the music problem that I’m still pretty sure will return to the old days. They didn’t have company that I know of last weekend, which is very unusual for them as long as he’s there, so this weekend is when I’m sure they’ll seek their revenge on me, whether or not it’s deliberate or cuz they just don’t care and aren’t thinking of what they’re doing. Well, there’s a courtroom waiting for us if they do, but hopefully they’ll want to do the same thing I want to do and not give me any reasons to feel provoked into doing anything like that.

Spunky now goes off when I go into the refrigerator and pull out the lettuce. He sometimes even goes off to let me know when he wants some lettuce as pigs do.

Later…

Tom just took the first step to hopefully, for once and for all, fixing the leak problem in the back room, but I don’t know. As a pessimist, I’ll believe it’s worked when and if I see it. He put some kind of primer on and soon he’ll put the sealer on.

I was amazed that next door’s dog didn’t bark at him. In fact, I haven’t really heard any dogs lately, but wait till it cools down. Just wait till then. Oh, God!

I kind of had to laugh when Tom said not to really get into worrying about them harassing me with noise since we’re not the only people here. Meaning, that they know others will hear it, too. It hasn’t stopped them in the past. Like when he’d blast in last year.

I take that back. Tom just said that the dog next door, which is now leashed to the tree they have in back, barked at him a little. “And that’s one ugly dog,” he added.

Yeah, it is.

Speaking of animals, there’s this gray/white cat that’s been hanging around here lately and today Tom discovered that she had kittens at the side of the house. I guess they’re about 3 weeks old and we couldn’t see how many there were, cuz we didn’t want to upset the mother and have her move them. I don’t know if we’ll keep any of them. We’ll see.

Later…

Is God trying to hold us back from even attempting to fix our roof problem, or what? We just got slammed with quite a storm and it rained kind of hard. I’m sure it washed away some of the primer, too.

WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 10, 1997 Alex has gotten all the Oswego Street and Woodside Terrace journals.

Andy, believe it or not, is going home to get a new car. No one will give him a car here, so he’s going to fly home using Marla and Evan’s special pass, then he’s gonna get a car there with the help of his parents. He’s gonna get the car at some dealership where his dad just bought a car. Guess Al knows the owner or something. Then he’s gonna drive it back here and his folks will help out with the money he’ll lose from not working for about a week. Andy’s lucky he can take the time off of work to do this, but this is ridiculous. I’m happy for Andy that he’s happy he gets to go home for a couple of days, but for someone to have to go all the way cross country to get a car is ludicrous. What if his parents were dead or dirt poor?

I just called Andy, who said he’s sitting outside talking to himself and doing interviews, so he’ll call me back. I want to find out what day he’s leaving and when he’ll be returning. I’m glad Laura will be there to tape his soaps for him. I hope she doesn’t fuck him over while he’s gone cuz I just got a bad vibe about that. However, there’s no sense in me telling him that, cuz it’ll only make him worry and he’s got to go home. So if she’s gonna fuck him over, she’s gonna fuck him over, and I don’t see any stopping that.

TUESDAY, SEPTEMBER 9, 1997 All’s been quiet at night and even in the days too, that we both know of. No music, amazingly. I guess they really don’t want to go to court any more than I want the hassle of that.

Now that I know that kid’s living there; that must explain the boxes. I wonder why I have never seen him before. And I also wonder how much basketball he’ll play when it cools down. Enough, I’m sure. And if not, others will.

Tom still thinks the city took over that house and that they have subsidized rent. He said the only thing that doesn’t fit, if they were buyers, is the cars they drive compared to the house. The cars are nice, but the house is just an OK house in an OK middle-class neighborhood. Yeah, well, regardless of what does or doesn’t happen while they’re still here, I wish to hell, like never before that they would move. It doesn’t look like this is going to happen, though, but like I said, I’ll deal with any shit they or any other neighbor may dish out to me. Meanwhile, the stress and the anger have subsided, unless they give me a reason to change that. I’d take being depressed over never having a kid any day, over being stressed out about neighbor’s noise. Lately, I haven’t even cared that much one way or the other as far as sex or a kid goes, but I can’t complain about that, either. Last night before work, though, Tom was saying he misses me and hopes to see me when he gets home. Sounds good to me.

Tom made another really cool random screensaver program. There are a couple of problems with it still, but he’ll fix them.

Teddy bear’s now in with Bunny and Spunky and Spunky’s now calling for food. He’s now learned that he can call for food and that plastic rustling means food since the lettuce and carrots are wrapped in plastic. I took some pictures of the 3 of them, too. Spunky really likes T-Bear, since he’s smaller. T-Bear mostly prefers to use the wheel that Spunky won’t use and the little thief packs up some of their food in his pouches and steals it. Then he dumps it out later in his own home.

Right now, Bunny’s sitting on top of the burrow watching me. He’s turned into quite a lap dog, too, what with all the kisses he gives lately.

Later…

Andy’s quite miserable now and I don’t envy him, that’s for sure. Not only is he lonely as the poor guy has been for years and probably always will be, but he still hasn’t found a new car. All these car dealers claim that bankruptcy and bad credit won’t be a problem, yet they won’t give Andy a car and his credit’s fine.

He mainly discussed his favorite thing to discuss - problems with other people. Gossip, gossip, gossip. That’s Andy. But at least he goes to the source first these days. In the past, you’d find out he had a beef with you from someone else before he’d bring it to you and discuss it.

Other than that, he’s sick of the heat, but he agrees with me that it’s been a pleasantly beeless summer. Yes, it has, compared to every other summer I’ve been here.

Andy hears other noises where he lives and hardly ever hears dogs there, but he also agrees with me on the sick way people so cruelly leave their dogs outside 24/7. That’s why with these houses being so close, the idea of neighbor’s noise goes beyond the worry of people screaming, bouncing balls and music. It’s also that I know that if I live next to someone who has a dog that means they live just a few feet away from me every day of every year. He too, knows people who won’t let their dogs in their house. They don’t walk them, they don’t pay attention to them, and they don’t do anything for them. Just store them in their yard, feed them and scoop up their shit. I would think a gun or mace, if not your own fists, would be a better defense against a murderer. If someone broke into next door through the front windows where the dog can’t reach, well, unless they could shoot the person or beat them up, they’re dead anyway, so what’s the point?

MONDAY, SEPTEMBER 8, 1997 I’m zapping Alex copies of my oldest journals through AOL. I sent him journal 1, but it took two mailings to do it since you can’t send more than 3000 characters per email. I had asked him if he was curious and if he’d read them and he said yes. He said work’s boring, so he could read them there. That’s nice. This is the perfect person I’ve always liked to share my journals with. This way I can share my writing, but not just with anyone. The more I like someone, the more I’m hesitant to share my writing with them, cuz then I’ll be more self-conscious about it. But flaky Alex is different. People like Fran, Nervous, and Ellie, are the types I like reading my journals.

It looks like Ma’s gonna be moving into Mary’s real soon. I asked Tom why Dave couldn’t string up phone wires and he said Dave’s inexperienced. Also, Ray and Nora don’t help out with Ma cuz they’re not very together and Ray’s ill a lot. I was wondering why Tom’s got to do the bulk of the family helping, besides the fact that he’s so smart. Tom also told me that the reason why Ma won’t hire anyone to do her lawn is cuz of how she was raised to be frugal, just like dad was. The part I was afraid of, was of ma keeping the house and therefore, keeping the burden of keeping the house taken care of on Tom (not that he’d ever complain either way). Well, she is gonna keep it. Not cuz she thinks she could ever live in it again, but to make her feel that there is hope, even if there’s not.

I still have mixed emotions about how I dealt with her going off on me. Yes, I did promise Tom I wouldn’t lay a hand on any of them and yes, it’d just get me either arrested, shot, or beat up by several of them, but a part of me wishes I had taken the chance and that I popped her one. That’s what most people would’ve done.

I know the music will be back to how it was at first in just a matter of time, or else she wouldn’t have said she didn’t want to hear any complaints about it, but let them. I mean, I hope to hell they do stay quiet, but if not, Tom and I will deal with it. He said noise could be dealt with easily enough, so fine. So be it then.

I get both angry and feelings of understanding when I think of her and her antics. I’d have reacted the same way, but I’ll tell you one thing for sure, and that’s that I’ll never again be walked on by any neighbors or by anyone ever again. She was out of line and so was I, but if they think they can bully me, they’ve got the wrong idea. And what the hell was going through her head, as mad as she was, when she came to my door? How did she know I really didn’t have a gun and would shoot her? How did she know I wouldn’t beat the shit out of her?

Anyway, regardless of who was wrong or right, I’ve been bullied enough in my life and did nothing about it and those days are long gone. I may change the way I handle and deal with things from here on out, but I’ll be damned if I’ll sit back and let someone fuck with me, either.

All’s back to normal around here so far. I got up just before 10 PM and haven’t heard a bark from next door at all. So, they either finally gave a damn about their dog and their neighbors, or the dog just shut up on its own. Tom left at 7:30 and he’d have reported in a message to me if there had been any music, and nothing woke me up, so I guess they’ve been giving me what I want, just like I have, too.

I talked to Tom about the mixed emotions I had about how I handled her coming to the door. I know I did the right thing by not decking her, but maybe I should’ve anyway, whether or not I was taking a chance of getting shot or arrested for it. I said that most people would’ve decked her for it anyway, but he said that’s not true. He said most people wouldn’t have decked her or me if it had been me, cuz I have gone to people’s doors telling them off and they haven’t decked me. True. And most people wouldn’t threaten to shoot someone’s dog, too, he said. He said if it were him that she came to yell at, he’d have laughed and shut the door. Not slam it, but just shut it. I thought about whether or not I should’ve done that, too, so she couldn’t have pissed me off by getting the chance to tell me to shut up (and Tom says it’s OK for me to be angry), but who knows if that would’ve furthered her anger, too. Meaning, if she didn’t get the chance to blow off her steam at me, would the dog still be barking? Would the music be loud again? Well, if it is, we’ll take care of it the legal way. If that doesn’t work, I know it’s gonna be awfully hard for me to restrain myself from taking care of it the non-legal way.

Tom explained something to me that I’m surprised I didn’t think of on my own, since I know how hard it can be to break habits. Tom explained to me that it was never that he didn’t care to do something I’d ask of him like to turn the water off so it wouldn’t drip in the bathroom. It was just that new habits take time to get into. Yeah, he has a point and this makes sense, cuz it took me time to break the routine of just flushing the toilet and then walking away. I had to get in the habit of remembering to pull the handle back down when it was jamming up like it had been for a while. So, what he was trying to tell me was that if I had asked him just once to turn the music down, I should’ve given him the chance to get into the habit of doing it. Not that he would’ve necessarily, cuz these people still obviously don’t give a shit about anyone but themselves.

Anyway, they don’t want to know I exist and I don’t want to know they exist, so hopefully we’ll each get what we want and be happy. I’m a little worried about how much of a nuisance their dog will be in the daytime in the winter when it’s cooler and sounds travel better, and when this thing has gotten even huger and has an even bigger bark, but we’ll just have to see.

Meanwhile, I’m sick of these people. I’ve written enough about them. I’ve talked enough about them and I hope to return to the days of at least not having more than a few paragraphs here and there to say about them, now that it’s gotten rather obvious that he’s not gonna move out again and if he does, the dog isn’t going anywhere, and the dog and at least this bitch herself, will be there while we’re still here. Tom’s right when he said this may very well be it and our last neighbors while we’re here since people don’t go moving in and out of houses like they do with apartments.

I had left my folks a message saying I was surprised they hadn’t called or asked any questions yet. They said they’d rather learn by trial and error. Yes, trial and error can be the best way to learn anything. We also told each other in our messages that we’ll pick a time to chat when we can. It varies with them, too, from day to day as to when they’ll be available to chat.

We got their package the other day. They sent 3 really nice big flags of fish, Bugs Bunny and an American flag with streamers. This one’s cool and I’ve got that up now. For little flags, they sent a cake, Snoopy, flowers, a pumpkin, a cow and one or two others.

We also got some pictures from when she saw Tammy and Larry. There were no pictures of Sandy or Jen, but there were pictures of Tammy giving her dog a bath and of the girls and they’re really growing up fast. Lisa looks older than me in this last particular picture she sent. Sarah really is a cute kid, but Becky looks rather homely. She already has that “motherly” look, if you know what I mean. I think she’s gonna be heavy with a plain face, but she’s only 10, so we’ll see.

Got new address labels from the Humane Society. Of cats and dogs.

For the first time in my life, I like Tetris, which is a very popular computer game. I’m pretty good at it too, but I’m too lazy to go into descriptions of how the game is played.

SUNDAY, SEPTEMBER 7, 1997 At 9:30, as I forgot to say earlier, I heard a car stereo, but couldn’t tell if it was next door. My guess, though, is that it wasn’t, and also, I just heard them come in. I heard no music, but just a couple of car doors.

Also, it looks like the dog’s gone back to being quiet at night. I haven’t heard it again after that time I heard it at 10:00. I don’t know if this is just because, or if it’s cuz of something they did, but I hope it stays this way and I also hope there’s no change in the music like I said before.

Tom suggested I use headphones and not give them a reason to act up more, even if I’ve tested the volume from outside. My initial feeling on that was, why should I? Why should I care when they don’t? However, two wrongs don’t make a right and I can’t ask someone to be quiet if I’m not, so I will use the headphones. I want peace from them, they want peace from me. I will give them that peace and hope they do, too, but I do feel much better after having talked to Tom and after having him reassure me that there’s something he could do about them if need ever be.

Later…

It looks like T-Bear’s finally decided to sleep in his hideaway. That’s what he’s been doing lately. I also saw him explore a little in tubes that don’t lead to his sleeping area.

Spunky’s still very timid. I’ve never had a pig like this and at this point, I’m wondering if he’ll ever settle down, not run from us when we approach the cage, and do more than just a few soft squeaks when I pat him. He was almost always in his burrow, so we take it out periodically to get him used to being uncovered so he can see that there’s nothing to be afraid of. So far, this seems to help somewhat. I just put the burrow back in and he didn’t run into it when I walked up to pat the both of them. He and Bunny really get along well and they like to play with and clean each other. Hopefully, like Tom said, he’ll see that Bunny’s not afraid of us and that’ll make him feel better. He feels comfortable with Bunny there and he sometimes runs and hides behind him when we walk up to the cage.

SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 6, 1997 I have pages and pages worth to update on next door. Hopefully, after I report the latest news, I can go back to the days of there not being much of anything to write about concerning them, but we’ll see. That sounds like just a dream to me.

I was just too stressed out and pissed off to write yesterday and I even forgot about the chat I was supposed to have with my folks, thanks to these fucking assholes.

Right after I last wrote, I got dressed and was heading for their door after hours of listening to this dog, which was worse than any other dog seeing that it was in their carport 3’ away. I could hear it over the fans (not the bedroom one). As I was going over there, though, a teenage boy was walking up the driveway. I guess there are more people living there than I thought. So I asked him if he lived there, he said yes, and I told him to go tell them to shut this dog up or I’d shoot it.

I went inside and heard him say, “Hey Michael,” then I heard them talking for a few minutes, but couldn’t make out what they were saying. When I saw the kid, this was when I noticed that the dog was tied to the car in the carport! That is so weird and as Tom said, an unusual place to put a dog. That’s gross; having to scoop its shit off of concrete and having it piss all over it. I don’t know if the dog was there all night, or if they moved it there after they first heard me yell at them at 2 AM to spite me further by moving it closer to our windows.

So, they talked for a few minutes, I heard scraping sounds, that was the end of the dog for a good 12 hours or so, then she came to the door and totally screamed at me and cussed me out, telling me to shut up, and not let me get in a word edgewise. Her coming to my door, ranting and raving and telling me to shut up, pissed me off more than it did when she called me a fucking ho. I guess a ho is a black’s way of saying “whore.”

Anyway, I contemplated popping her one (as anyone else would’ve done to me, no doubt, had it been me to go to their door), but here are the reasons why I didn’t. First of all, I could kill this sack of skin and bones, and if I did that, someone else in that household could’ve shot me or sent all their friends after me, and it’d sink any case I may have should I ever launch a complaint against them or take them to court. And most importantly, she didn’t threaten me or make a move on me, or else I would have killed her with no regrets.

These are the things I remember her saying, although this lady had quite the lisp I didn’t know she had and was going a mile a minute. “If you think you can punk somebody around you got the wrong idea. I don’t want to know that you exist. I don’t want no complaints about no music. Who are you to tell my niece and nephew they can’t play outside? I don’t want no little notes, I’m sick of your shit, if anything happens to my dog I’ll take you in on a peace bond and have you served (in other words, she wasn’t about to do anything about shutting up her dog. I do her a favor of accepting a delivery for her, but she can’t even do the simple favor of moving her dog away from our house if she can’t take the fucking thing inside), shut up, shut up, shut up, fuck you ho!” She also said something about me and this neighborhood, too, but like I know this neighborhood oh so well and as if they know me so well, too.

I didn’t tell her this, but if there’s ever anything I ever did wrong to these people, that was to threaten to shoot the dog. That was wrong and uncalled for and although she wouldn’t let me get more than a few words in, I told her, “It’s just that first it was the music and now this 3 feet away from the bedroom window. I don’t want to know you exist either, and I’m also sick of your shit, and I never told your niece or nephew they couldn’t play outside.” I think she may have been referring to those 4 white boys who I told to back off, not just cuz they annoyed me, but cuz I also thought I was doing the right thing as a neighbor by asking these little trespassers to back off. I didn’t know what else they’d do and if you ask me, I’d hope that a neighbor would have the decency to shoo away any strange beings lurking on my property, too. Meanwhile, I wouldn’t and never did tell their kids they couldn’t play outside cuz annoying or not, that wouldn’t be my right at all.

All I ever asked of these people was to keep the music and dog at a reasonable volume and I’m sorry, but I don’t think that that was too much to ask for or an unfair request at all. I also don’t see why it had to be such a big deal to them. What’s so hard about not blasting your neighbor out when you’re coming and going? And what’s so hard about taking your dog in to live with you or at least moving it further than 3 feet from someone’s window? From the day they came in here, these self-absorbed people had this I-don’t-care and I’m-gonna-do-what-I-want-only attitude and I’m fed up here. I’ve reached my limits with them! There’s just no compromising with these people. They have to do it all their way. They may as well act like I asked them to shoot their parents, instead of asking them to turn their music and dog down. And also, after hearing this bitch’s mouth, I’d say that yeah, she’s the one I heard from the get-go. I had just forgotten what she looked like. And I’m sure her gratitude about me taking in her flowers was purely phony. So it has been her living there all along for sure, Mike’s back for sure, and there are 1-2 teenagers living there, besides the little kid.

To my utter amazement, they haven’t started up again with their music, but they might in time. Tom said that if we handle it right, noise can be dealt with. He said he could call in a complaint about the dog and that they could get fined and all that.

I told Tom yesterday that I wanted to go to court and try to get a conjunction on them that they keep the music and dog down, although the music’s been fine for many months now. However, he may be right when he told me I’d lose, although we disagree on the reasons why. I think I may lose cuz they have kids, they work and I don’t, and the judge may be afraid to side with me cuz they’re black and he may fear being labeled a racist. Tom said that cuz I asked them more than once to lower the music and sent them a few notes about it in the beginning that I’d lose. And cuz I threatened to shoot the dog, not that they could prove that.

Tom said he couldn’t tell me what to do, but cuz he’s had more experience and knows more about how people interact in houses, that he wouldn’t stop me from trying to get a conjunction and that he would stand by me, but that it’d be best to trust it to him to deal with. I do trust him, but I am worried that he won’t take action for me when I feel it’s time. Meaning, he said to go about my usual routine and log the barking, but that he’d call when he felt it was best, if that was necessary. Well, what worries me is what if I felt it was high time something was done and he didn’t? Well, hopefully we can both agree on what to do as far as dealing with it goes, but like he said, I have a right to do what I feel is best, too.

Now that she’s come over here and blown off her steam and vented her frustrations at me, I’m hoping that the dog will adjust to its surroundings and settle down and that they won’t start up with the music. If they do, though, I will take action with or without Tom’s help and I really hope it’ll be with his help and that we can agree on what would be best to do about it.

Even though Tom says I’m paranoid, which is true, and that they’re not deliberately out to get me cuz they have their own lives to live, I feel cornered here and I do feel that they’re taking advantage of me and that they’re controlling my life while they can do whatever the fuck they want. I’m sick of doing things to ward off other people’s noise. I don’t want to live this way anymore. She gets to sleep and breathe easy and she doesn’t need to put up sound blocks or do other things to block out noise. Meanwhile, I gotta do all that and I’m the one that has to wake up with stress 5 times like I did after our little screaming match and have diarrhea 4 times.

I have mixed emotions about how I handled it when she came to my door. If I hadn’t threatened their dog and if they’d had any respect for their neighbors in the first place, we wouldn’t have ever spoken to each other, except for when I gave her the flowers, but a part of me wishes that I screamed louder than her and didn’t let her get a word in edgewise. I told Tom that I hope she didn’t walk away with the wrong idea and think that she could fuck with me, but he said that she’s not out to win or to compete with me. He said he thinks that the music will escalate in time, not deliberately and not to spite me, but just cuz they won’t care, not that I think they ever did give a shit. But he said that the music’s got to have been softer lately for a reason and that if someone forgets and goes over there blasting in and says to them, “Sorry. I forgot,” that they’d tell them not to worry about it.

Has anyone ever told these assholes, “Maybe blasting your music and tying barking dogs just outside their windows isn’t worth what you have to get in return for it? Since you don’t like to hear her bitch, maybe you should consider being quiet, normal, considerate neighbors for a change. If that’ll get her off your ass and shut her up, don’t you think shutting up yourselves might be worth it?”

Well, what happens from here on out is up to them. Meanwhile, I’m gonna take Tom’s advice like I should have a year ago (I should’ve asked only once for them to turn the music down, then launched a complaint about it) and I’m not gonna say one word to them and trust that Tom will help me and stand by me like he told me he would, and trust that noise really can be dealt with, should they act up with their dog or music or with anything. I worry that Tom might stall or put off calling anyone if they did something that really was uncalled for and that really did stress me out continuously, but deep down, I’m sure I can trust Tom to know what’s best to do and that he will help me and not let them do something continuously like that if they do. One little bark here and there is fine, and I’ve decided not to track the daytime barking unless it gets excessive. I’ve lived with the two dogs barking all day, so what’s one more? We’ll just have to wait and see how bad it is in the winter. It may be fine, or it may be bad and very stressful if it barks a lot in the winter, since the dog’s closer and since sounds travel better in the cooler weather. We’ll just have to see and not map a sure plan, as Tom said.

Regardless of the fact that these people are sickos, I wish I learned my lesson a long time ago, cuz then I’d have only asked them once to lower the music, then I would’ve complained to the proper people and not have had to go through all this stress. Tom said that they didn’t put this stress on me or make me do things differently than I normally would on purpose. He has a point, but I only partially agree. Whether or not none, some, or a lot of their shit’s been intentional, it’s still due to them that’s caused me to be stressed out, etc. To a degree, I can understand this bitch’s rage and her going off on me. If I had a nephew tell me that the neighbor threatened to shoot my pet, I’d be over there letting them have it, too.

I asked Tom why people don’t care about how their dogs bark a lot and their neighbors around them and he said people would rather annoy their neighbors than be murdered with all the sick fucks in this world since the dog barks to warn them when people go by.

Shortly after 10:00, I heard it barking for 20 minutes and it sounds like maybe they moved it out of the carport, but last night hopefully proves Tom’s point about it just needing time to adjust to its new surroundings and hopefully, it’ll return to being quiet during the nighttime. Last night it only barked 50 times and not 100.

Last night and the night before last, I was very glad we didn’t have any guests or a child sleeping in that room. I almost dread having a kid in this house if I could, cuz as Tom said, they may be there till we move. However, I’m not letting them or anybody else stop me from going after my dream. The only two people that could stop me would be God or Tom. I just want others to live their lives without bothering me, I want to live my life and I want to be able to live here in peace till we move. I don’t want any more trouble, but if I have to put my foot down and fight back, so to speak, I will. Meaning that I’ll tell Tom what’s going on instead of trying to deal with it myself and trust that he can and will take care of it. There are some things he goes to me for, like if he needs a picture drawn, and then there are some things I need to go to him for. I can’t make Tom do anything he doesn’t want to do and he can’t make me do anything I don’t want to do, but I just hope that all works out and we can solve any problems we may ever have with anyone together. I will learn from my mistakes. That’s all I can do as my threatening their dog and her calling me names is water under the bridge. If it made her feel better by going off on me and has made her feel that that’s enough and that there’s no need to do anything more to harass me - more power to her. However, if she ever came to my door again screaming at me to shut up, I will break the law and I will lay her ass and I don’t care how small, skinny or weak she is. She did mention this peace bond thing, so hopefully they won’t do anything to sink their case, not that I’d give them a reason to take me to court and like I said, I hope that it doesn’t come down to my taking them to court, cuz I don’t want the hassle any more than they do. I’ll give them what they want, which is no communication whatsoever, and hopefully they’ll give me the peace I want.

FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 5, 1997 Oh, I’m soooo pissed! I’ve had it with next door. I mean, I have totally reached my limits with them and their shit! I am not, and I repeat not, gonna take it anymore!

To start at the beginning: I don’t know if it was next door, even though I wish to hell I did know, but somebody went blasting by at 8:30 last night at a volume that was totally unacceptable. I didn’t hear a car door after the music died off, which isn’t totally abnormal, believe it or not, and there were no lights on, but having no lights on doesn’t mean shit, either.

Then just a little while ago, their fucking dog, which can be worse than the other two, wouldn’t shut the fuck up and it echoed through every single goddamn room like you wouldn’t believe. You can hear it really well anytime, but the reason it was horrendous just now was cuz it’s 2:00 in the goddamn morning, first of all. Also, we have single-paned windows, a block wall a few feet away from the house (where the dog is) that funnels sound really well, and pipes connected inside the wall heater vents that go to the outside. If you stick your ear to these vents, you can hear soft sounds from further away that you wouldn’t normally hear if you were away from the vents and if these sounds were louder and closer.

The point is this - if I hear any more music or barking that’s either too much or too loud or at ridiculous hours (and I don’t care that I’m up at night half the time), I’m gonna be over there so fucking fast that they won’t even know what hit them. I mean it! I’m literally ready to kick ass here and I know they had to have heard me screaming at them like I just did out back by where they sleep, (which is in back on the side next to who’s next to them) and I know this will bring back the music and I know I’ll then be kicking their asses. I’ve had it with them and their noise and I’m in for no more bargains or deals with either them or God. I don’t owe them shit! I don’t owe God shit, either, and they better shut up from now on, or else I’ll make these fucking freeloaders wish they were never born. No way will I be screaming out back next time. Next time I’ll be at their door. I’m just so fucking pissed, that my mind’s gone blank. All I can think about is smashing them and their dog right now.

Tammy’s not gonna be sending the CD which is fine with me, cuz I don’t really care for any of the songs on it, but I’ll explain all that later.

I went online, after trying to get in for 20 minutes, and in my parents’ message, they said they’d go online to chat with me at 11:15 their time. Now, I thought that meant tonight, but after thinking about it, I realized they could’ve been talking about last night. Oh well. We’ll chat soon enough. Also, they’ve sent a package to us and it’ll be here probably Saturday or Monday.

I still can’t remember everything I wanted to write about. I am so fucking sick of them and all the fucking neighbors that have totally disrupted my life and whatever I’ve been doing and this is it! If I hear anything ever again that doesn’t roll over well enough with me, it will be the last time. I wish they’d come to my door right now.

This has been the timidest GP I’ve ever had. Tom thinks that maybe he was taken away from his mother too soon. He’s just slowly starting to loosen up, though, and he’s starting to softly chat when I pat him. When he’s out of the cage with me, he’s perfectly calm, but when I walk up to him when he’s in the cage and not in his burrow, he runs into his burrow. However, the last time I walked by while he was out nibbling on pellets, he didn’t run and hide.

I’m just so pissed off at God too, and his “life has to be unfair” rule. I didn’t do anything to these assholes. I don’t bother them with my noise or with noise from my pets or music. Is the dog noise that God’s stuck on me cuz of how I’d mistreated animals in the past (if what I did could be considered mistreatment since the story I was told happened when I was really little)? Is the music God’s stuck on me cuz of neighbors I’d bother with mine, like Grace D on Woodside Terrace and Hank P on Oswego Street? But what did I do for the sterility? Who’d I sterilized to deserve that?

I hear the scumbags rustling around in the carport right now. Why don’t they just take the fucking dog in the house? Why doesn’t anyone take their dogs inside their fucking houses?

Well, this mutt seemed to arrive at the same time that asshole moved back in (meaning maybe it’s his), so hopefully he and his dog will just get the fuck out and I won’t have to waste my time setting him permanently straight when I could be doing other things. They say once broken up, always broken up. In other words, the stats on “trying again,” aren’t very good. That’d be just too good to be true, though; him, his car doors, his company, his dog, and his music moving out for several months again. I wish, though! Like I said, it’ll be over soon. Finally! I should have put my foot down last year, but now that they know the dog’s given them the reaction they wanted, they’ll go back to the music, I’ll take care of them, and then it’ll be over and done with for good.

The only thing that makes no sense is - why did she seem so nice to me when she came and got the flowers? Maybe it’s not her, but it’s him. Hey, why not? Males have always been the bulk of most women’s problems, but she doesn’t have a car, so she’s never blasted me out and she doesn’t slam car doors and maybe this really isn’t her dog. The door slamming didn’t start till they got the dog and he came back, too, all at the same time and I’m all the more convinced that this isn’t the same woman from when they first got here. The woman at first seemed very hateful and like she just didn’t give a damn at all. I could’ve sworn I once even heard her say “I don’t care,” when I gave them their first “please shut up” note, then came right in and went to the window by where they were standing. On the other hand, Tom says this bone-thin woman has always lived there. Tom denies it, but I say he worships neighbors, so who knows for sure what he’s seen? He’s changed his stories before on what he’s seen. He tried to tell me he didn’t know who it was cuz he didn’t pay attention when he saw him and the kid the other day. He was in a position to see them clearly as they got out of their car, but I was still in the car, waiting for him to open the garage door, with my view blocked by a tree. If he doesn’t know and doesn’t pay attention, then why has he been able to recognize him in the past? And how could he know this thin woman has always lived there?

So, why would the motherfucker go into his car at this hour, if not to spite me? To get a gun out of his glove box in fear of me and what I may do? Or to shove the dog into the car? Or to get something to put the dog in?

Later…

I did a totally different setup of Teddy Bear’s cage. Tom said it’s the best I’ve ever done. In the living room, there are 3 plastic stackable shelves. I took one and placed it at the back of my worktable, which would be right next to the aquarium. The self’s as high as the bass of the newest cage (the one with the floor tube). Then I set up Mary’s little cage on the shelf and ran 3 straight tubes to the newest cage. So, instead of building upwards, I’ve expanded out. It’s about 4’ wide now, instead of 4’ feet tall or higher.

I wish Teddy Bear was more of an explorer who used all parts of his cage. Once he picks the tube area he wants to sleep in, he never uses any other tubes unless he has to pass through them to get to where he sleeps. Once again, it’d be nice to have 1-2 more gerbils or even hamsters.

I can’t wait to see what I’m in for as far as the music goes tomorrow. With my luck, they’ll blast in when Tom’s here and awake so I can’t do anything about it yet. I promised Tom I wouldn’t deck them or really let them have it in any serious way. It’d be so frustrating if they did that while he was here and up! The more I don’t do anything about them, the more they’re gonna think they can get away with shit till I fight back and take action. Tom said that if I heard the music once, went over there and did something, it wouldn’t be only once.

Wrong!

My tits, which had amazingly begun to improve a couple of weeks ago, are now killing me. It’s gonna be another early and fierce period.

I’ve decided that if Tom’s gonna insist I’m perfectly fertile, and that he’s gonna keep holding back, keep trying to instill patience in me, and that God doesn’t hate me, and that it’s OK for a woman to choose when she’ll have a child, then I’m gonna join in this little game with him. I’m not gonna not really want a kid that bad or be as scared as he is, though. I’m scared, but I wouldn’t have been afraid to go ahead and get pregnant anyway if he and God had allowed it.

Tom’s not gonna tell me what I want to hear, therefore, it’s time I told him what he wants to hear. The only difference is, is that I know I’m right about being sterile. He on the other hand, also knows we won’t have a child, not cuz of sterility, but cuz he won’t allow that to happen. He thinks I’m OK, though.

I left him a message saying that since he thinks it’s OK for a woman to choose when to have a child, and since he thinks I’m OK and stand just as good of a chance as any other woman, and God doesn’t hate me, I’ve decided to choose to wait till I’m 33-35 to have a child. Good things are supposed to come to those who wait, I also told him. Right?

Anyway, I’m just not gonna let his denial of my sterility and his fear of finding out if I really know what I’m saying, then having to deal with whatever does happen, get to me anymore. Nor am I gonna let his forcing me to wait on him get to me, either. So, year after year, I’ll just say I just want to wait a little longer. I don’t want to do this just for self-help, but for another reason, too. There’s nothing I can do to deny the fact that this is mainly God’s doing. He is the one who not only made sure I was sterile but who also has hexed just about every sexual experience I’ve had with anybody and who’s using Tom to ensure the reality of the sterility and to continue the hexing of the sex. However, my husband also has a part, even if it’s a much smaller part, in controlling my life and my body and my right to choose to have a child and I don’t want to be bitter or resentful of him about this when I’m 60. If I tell myself every few years that I’m just not ready yet and that it’ll do me good to wait and make me appreciate the kid even more, I just may end up believing this.

From the autobiography journal:

One of my mom’s traits I admired was:

That she was her own woman. My mother refused to let her husband control her or tell her what to do. She stood her own ground, and when she had something to say - she’d say it.

If I had any trouble with my mom growing up, it was in this area:

My mother was impatient, negative, and very hurtful a lot. She would often be very controlling and not allow me to be myself. She could be very hard to talk to and was not very supportive and encouraging.

One of Dad’s traits I admired was:

His sense of humor and his more passive and more tolerant ways.

If, growing up, I had any trouble with dad, it was in this area:

He would sit back as if oblivious to my mother’s mental abuse, and not step in to help.

I remember getting into trouble with my parents on this occasion:

Where do I begin! It was usually over not doing well in school, telling lies by saying I knew famous people, and due to wanting to be a famous singer myself. At this time, I really couldn’t sing very well at all. My vocal abilities stopped at the pitch. I had no strength, vibrato or timing. And my breathing and vowels were all wrong back then.

This is how we usually ate dinner as a family:

At the kitchen table. And I had to eat every bite, too!

A habit I picked up during my early years was:

Sitting on the floor rocking to music.

My parents felt strongly about passing on these lessons:

Neatness, thinking/planning before acting, and saving money.

This person in my family was more serious than the rest:

That’s a toss-up between my mother and my sister.

This person in my family was funnier than the rest:

My brother.

This present I got from my parents really sticks in my memory:

The guitar lessons that were my Chanukah present right around my 13th or 14th birthday.

What I remember about my first trips to the hospital:

In Boston, MA I had plastic surgery on the ear I was born without. I’d wake up from each of the 15 operations I had and puke. I was also very sick with pneumonia and was hospitalized in New London, CT.

One of my most memorable toys was:

My little Victrola that I’d play records on.

This is how my family celebrated Christmas or Chanukah:

Usually next door at my maternal grandparents’ house.

This is what we usually did at Thanksgiving:

Ate turkey, and had family and friends over if we didn’t go to another family member’s house.

I want you to know this about my grandmothers:

That my mom’s mom was a lot like my mom. My dad’s mom was much easier to talk to and get along with.

I want you to know this about my grandfathers:

I never knew my dad’s dad, but mom’s dad was a lot like my dad.

If I remember anything about great-grandparents it is this:

I never knew them or heard anything about them.

The country or countries my ancestors came from were:

I’m not sure. NOTE: Learned in 2010 or so that my grandfathers came from Russia and Austria.

My hairstyles and natural color growing up were:

Long and brown. I wore it down, with my sides pulled back, or in braids and ponytails. I had no bangs and it was all one length and parted in the middle. Back then I liked colored ribbons and hair bubbles.

My family’s first radio/TV set was in the year…One of my favorite radio/TV shows was:

I’m sure my family got their first radio and TV as soon as they were available. I liked WHYN AM when I was really young, as far as the radio goes. For shows, I liked: The Bionic Woman, Charlie’s Angels, and Little House on the Prairie.

In the afternoons after school I used to:

Go into the woods behind our house or out in the snow sledding, if it was winter. Or I would do homework, get together with friends, or go to the Jewish Community Center.

Games I liked to play as a child and youth were:

Pretend games, Barbie dolls, cards, guessing games, and spying.

What I liked about my siblings was:

Not very much. My brother was fun to be around, but my sister was a jealous bitch, who’d cut me down.

People described me as a child in this way:

A little monster. I was a very rebellious and hyper child, with a wild imagination and plenty of tall tales to tell.

We had these pets:

Poodles, birds, guinea pigs, gerbils, fish and land crabs.

This person significantly influenced my life growing up:

Until I went out on my own, I didn’t really have anyone influence me positively. Most of my influence growing up came from my mother. The bulk of it was not positive.

My best friend during childhood was:

Jenny C.

I admired this friend because of the following talents:

She was daring, courageous, and outspoken.

I was generally popular or unpopular because:

The things that made me popular, were usually my sense of humor and my wild laugh. The things that made me unpopular were that I was a bully and a liar.

I helped a friend greatly on this occasion:

I would listen to Jenny talk about her alcoholic mother and spend time with her.

This was a particularly dangerous thing I did with a friend:

I didn’t do anything I’d call dangerous, but Jenny and I smoked pot and would drink wine. The wine made me ill to my stomach and the pot made me dizzy and disoriented.

I remember well this birthday party I had with my friends:

No particular birthday party stands out in my mind, but as a child, I’d have 15-20 kids from school over for cake, ice cream, and games.

I wanted this person to be my friend but the feeling was not mutual:

I’d have to say that was Cindy F. I don’t know why I wanted her friendship so bad in 1st grade, but she never wanted mine.

I had a childhood crush on this person:

Kate Jackson and Linda Ronstadt.

A memorable adolescent sweetheart was:

No one that I can think of.

What my friends and I liked best to do together:

Go roller-skating, to the movies, and be little pranksters.

If my parents had only known! I did this forbidden thing with my friends:

With Jenny and Jessie, I smoked pot, and stole candy and cigarettes.

I really enjoyed this grade in elementary school:

I never really liked school, so I have no grade that I really enjoyed.

One of my most memorable teachers in elementary school was:

Rose M, Linda M and Joan B.

I had a lot of fun with this subject in elementary school:

Art, music and gym.

I had some trouble with this subject in junior high or high school:

Math, English and social studies.

I really enjoyed this junior high or high school grade:

I didn’t enjoy any grade, but I’d have to say that grades 8 and 9 were the best of the “real schools.”

One of my most memorable teachers in junior high or high school was:

Mrs. B and Mike M.

I liked this subject a lot in junior high or high school:

Music, art, gym, typing, and science.

When I was very young, I thought I would be this when I grew up:

A singer, and possibly an actress, too.

If I didn’t graduate from high school it was because:

I graduated in ‘84.

This is why I did or did not go to college:

I took some sign language courses but never had any desire to go to college long-term.

If I attended college, one of my strongest memories was:

I was the only one who knew sign language and not just a few words, so I became the teacher’s assistant during classes.

This is one of the most important things about life I learned in school:

That the world isn’t as kind and as easy to deal with, as we’d like to think.

This is how I got to school each morning in my early years:

Mostly by bike or walking.

One of my earliest memories about school was:

That I didn’t really like it.

These were my favorite sports in school:

Gymnastics.

One of my favorite kinds of homework was:

Anything quick and easy.

My elementary and high schools could be described as: (small/large, public/private, academic/vocational…)

I guess all of the above, except for large. I also took a course in manicuring.

My teachers generally described me as this kind of student:

One who didn’t give a damn. And who’d rather sit and daydream than pay attention.

My religious training growing up was:

None really. I believe my parents are now much more open-minded, but as a child, they believed I should have a Jewish husband, whereas I believe in love and not labels. It’s who the person is and not what they are. I also believe kids can learn more by learning about 2 religions if both parents aren’t of the same religion.

My favorite mentor-role model in college or trade school was:

This doesn’t apply to me since I only took a few 10-week courses.

What I enjoyed doing most after school was:

Listening to music and fantasizing.

I remember these chores growing up:

Cleaning my room and keeping it neat and organized.

My first job for pay was:

As a housekeeper in a hotel.

I enjoyed this particular work assignment:

The mindlessness of some cleaning tasks.

I took care of this person or persons growing up:

I didn’t take care of anyone in particular, but my dad’s mom had a stroke and came to live with us. We all helped her in any way we could.

I remember this about my mother’s work and responsibilities:

Retail

I remember this about my father’s work and responsibilities:

Exterminating

I hated this particular work assignment:

Cleaning my room and my guinea pig’s cages.

This is the profession that I often mentioned when people asked me what I was going to be when I grew up:

A singer.

I disliked this responsibility/work growing up but it has proved to be very helpful to me as an adult:

Cleaning and organizing.

This is what war meant to me growing up:

It was a scary thought to know how much hate we have in the world and how intolerant people could be of those who are different. It also made me sad and angry.

I liked this kind of music and these musicians growing up:

My favorite singer - Linda Ronstadt. Favorite music - disco.

The clothes fashions of my childhood were:

Geeky!

Some favorite actresses/actors:

Kate Jackson, Jaclyn Smith, Farrah Fawcett, Lindsay Wagner, Melissa Gilbert and Michael Landon.

I remember when these technological advances were made:

Microwaves, VCRs, and CDs.

My parents felt this way about politics:

Don’t know.

“My world” consisted of these geographical areas:

Massachusetts, Connecticut, and a few trips to New York and Texas. I’ve been through all the New England states, lots of the southern ones. I did not enjoy my stay in Vermont and Maine.

For a while, I thought I would marry this person, but didn’t:

I never thought I’d marry anyone till I married my husband Tom.

My first serious romance was with:

My husband Tom. I can’t call my previous so-called romances anything other than settlements or jokes.

I regrettably lost touch with this family member after we grew up:

I can’t say I regret this, cuz it just happened - but I didn’t speak to my brother from 1986-1993.

I kept this secret from almost everyone:

I can’t say I have any secrets I’ve kept from most everyone cuz there’s nothing really downright “secretive” about my life, so to speak, but my husband knows me best of all. Runner-up to him would be my best friend Andy.

One of my mom’s strongest characteristics was:

She’s domineering:

One of my dad’s strongest characteristics was:

He’s a calm person, who’s a good listener and who’s funny.

This issue caused a great rift between me and my parents:

Again, I don’t know where to begin, but I’d have to say that our greatest rifts were over our different views and ways.

We reconciled after this happened:

We didn’t really reconcile until we began to open up and express ourselves to each other more. It’s unfortunate we didn’t communicate as well earlier cuz I think it’d have avoided more problems and sometimes you must work out the past, in order to move on.

My hairstyles and hair colors these years:

I dyed my hair red and black a few times years ago. It’s not dyed now and Arizona has lightened it up a bit, but I have bangs and it’s still brown, thick, long, curly and to my butt, but with gray coming in.

The story about how I became engaged is:

My husband and I were neighbors, then he got a house and then I moved in. Although we had a few shaky moments in the beginning, we each knew it was right and that we were soul mates.

I remember my wedding well:

We had a wonderful wedding in Vegas. We chose to go it alone, so as not to have to deal with the hassles or guests at a bigger wedding. We wanted to just be by ourselves and go straight from the chapel and on with our honeymoon gambling in the casino.

This is how we decided how many children to have:

I think Tom would prefer two kids (or so he says), although one suits him fine. I decided on one kid simply cuz one’s enough and that way, sibling rivalry/fights are nothing we’ll have to deal with. However, I am sterile, so a child isn’t in our cards. My husband thinks it is, though, and that we’ll have twins.

I remember the birth(s) of our child(ren) well:

Given the fact that I don’t have a child - I’ll simply have to guess on these child-related questions. I would hope I wouldn’t have been too small and needed a C-section and could’ve had it the natural way. I think the birth would’ve been scary, painful and beautiful and exciting.

Some of the things I loved doing with my family were:

My family, which is my husband, is who I enjoyed being with, talking with, having sex with and seeing him be happy.

This was a particularly memorable vacation with my loved ones:

Our wedding in Vegas, driving through the tip of California and going to Laughlin, Nevada.

This health problem was very scary for my family:

The asthma attacks I had back east, my father’s heart problems, my brother-in-law’s lymphoma, my father-in-law’s cancer, and my mother-in-law’s stroke.

This was a serious accident I remember:

When my brother and nephew were in a trucking accident and my nephew died.

We had these pets:

Guinea pigs, rabbits, hamsters, mice and pigeons.

My parents played this kind of role to my children:

I hope they’d have played a typical one.

This is the part of my parenting I am particularly proud of:

I think I would’ve been most proud of how I’d always let the child know it could come to me with anything and be itself.

This is the part of my parenting where I think I could’ve done better:

I think I would’ve had to work on my patience.

My brother(s), and/or sister(s) and I acted this way toward each other:

My sister and I used to be negative and not supportive of each other, but we’ve outgrown this and have moved on to being able to get along better and being able to confide in one another.

My brother and I can talk to each other and we joke a lot.

My best friend after I left home was:

Jenny C - then Andy M.

These people were my best friends in my middle years:

Jenny C, Jessie S, Andy M, Bob P, Kim C, Jai Z, Stefan H, Paula B, Fran P, Kevin T (Nervous), and Emily B.

True friendship to me means:

Being there for each other through the good and the bad. Acceptance.

This person helped to save my life:

In a lot of ways, my husband saved my life and my sanity. If it were not for him - who knows what would’ve happened when I needed ear surgery.

I remember this embarrassing incident with a good friend:

I cannot really remember any embarrassing incidents with a friend. However, after I lost 40-50 pounds, and hadn’t gotten smaller underwear yet, and was wearing a dress one day in downtown Springfield, I was embarrassed when I slowly began to walk out of them. I managed to jump into a deserted alley, step out of them, and shove them in my pocketbook.

One of the ways I liked to entertain guests was:

Don’t entertain enough to answer.

When I think of compassion and goodness I think of this person:

My husband.

One big misunderstanding I’ve had with a friend was:

I’ve had so many in the past with Andy, as well as others that I wouldn’t know where to start.

I learned to take myself less seriously through my friendship with:

My husband says - no one.

I have always felt that this person betrayed me even though I was always loyal to them:

My mother and sister.

This is the sport I most enjoyed:

Figure skating and gymnastics.

The activity that my friends and I most often engaged in was:

Prank phone calls, talking, cards, driving around, doing music-related stuff.

A very difficult educational experience for me was:

That life and people are often hard, cruel and unfair.

These are the kinds of books I enjoy reading most:

Supernatural suspense.

One book that had a very strong impact on me was:

A book on child abuse (mental, physical and sexual).

One of my favorite magazines in my middle years was:

Word find puzzles.

The subject(s) I always wanted to learn more about but never did:

Motherhood.

A year in which I learned a lot of new skills was:

Beginning at 21 (became a fairly decent singer, started to draw, learned more Spanish, became a fluent signer, and learned more about life/people).

The way I liked best to learn was:

As quickly and as easily as possible.

My involvement in religion as an adult was:

None really. I just think everyone should have their own ways/beliefs and not try to push their ways/beliefs on others.

This was an area I was able to teach well to others:

Don’t be afraid to be yourself and speak your mind. Do what you want with your life and not what others think you should do. Don’t do something cuz it’s common, uncommon, important, or high paying - Do it cuz you want to (if fate will allow it).

One thing I regret that I never got to explore:

Motherhood. More 1-niters with more feminine women before I met Tom, although this was something I regretted at that time. And that I couldn’t be a singer. Besides motherhood, I regret not being able to quit smoking and get on a schedule. I also wish I could say I’ve been exercising every day for years.

The accomplishments I am most proud of are:

Coming to Arizona, getting married, developing my voice and drawing. Learning computers, too. Losing weight years ago.

I really liked working with this person:

Norah M. Even though she could be rude and insensitive - she was this gorgeous woman from England.

Things I liked about my work included:

I’d say my favorite job was when I was an exotic dancer. I liked being able to dance to music all night. You can’t do that with most jobs.

I strived to be this kind of worker with these qualities:

To be on time and do my best.

Some household chores I enjoyed and some I didn’t:

I don’t mind dishes and laundry, but dusting and vacuuming sucks.

If I could have changed the balance between work, family, and play I would have done so in this way:

I’d balance things so my husband and I could have more time together and more sex if I could.

The values I adhered to as an adult were:

Live life, be myself, stand my ground, but try to avoid unnecessary conflicts. Try not to assume too much or give up trying for my goals, even if they take years to achieve and even if I think I’ll never succeed. Have self-respect and stand up for myself by putting up my fists and defending myself if I should God forbid be faced with an attacker.

Favorite hobbies:

Singing, drawing, writing, reading, computers and listening to music.

Places I’ve worked:

Hotels, bars, cleaning houses, babysitting and a few other odds and ends.

Things I disliked about my work included:

As a housekeeper - I got a lot of backaches and lousy pay. As a dancer - I got sore feet and hated to pay too much of my earnings to bouncers, bartenders and DJs, cuz of cheap owners who were supposed to pay them themselves.

These are the presidents I voted for:

None, cuz they’re all quacks, just trying to show off and gain popularity.

The clothes fashions I wore as an adult:

I used to dress conservatively, then non-conservatively. Now I like a mix of both, but nothing overly conservative.

Favorite actresses/actors/singers:

Marlee Matlin, Jenny Seagrove, Linda Ronstadt and Gloria Estefan.

I traveled outside my local environs to:

I traveled to Florida, which was so-so. After moving to Arizona, I traveled to Nevada and California and had a blast.

One of the national news events that most fascinated me was:

I was appalled by the Oklahoma City bombing and by all the innocent children and adults who were killed. I was also appalled by the not-guilty verdict of O.J. Simpson who so obviously killed his wife and her friend, only to get away with it all cuz he was rich, famous, and male. I'm sure the race card he played helped as well.

This event raised my understanding of the larger world outside my immediate surroundings:

The events I wrote about in the last question, increase my belief that we live in a sick, cruel, dangerous and unfair world.

Later…

Yup, it’s spite time alright. A half-hour ago I heard a couple of slams and just a few seconds ago, I heard a weird buzzing sound. It was only for a few seconds and I couldn’t tell what the fuck it was, but that’s OK. There’s gonna be a time soon enough when they’re gonna fuck with me with the music when he isn’t here. Then they’re dead.

Later…

No, they didn’t take their dog inside like I had hoped. I know someone was out there after I yelled out back, but what the fuck were they doing if they didn’t go out to take the dog in?

Meanwhile, something’s gotta be done on my part. I mean, this shit has absolutely got to stop. I just can’t and won’t take anymore.

TUESDAY, SEPTEMBER 2, 1997 I’m soooo happy right now! We got a new piggy, who I’ve decided should be called Spunky. We went to the first Petco and I saw one that was damn good potential. He was a rusty brown color, but I wanted to look around some more. What was weird about him, though, was that although this was a short-haired GP, the texture of his fur was fuzzier. GPs have hair. Rabbits and hamsters are furry things, but this GP, seemed fluffier and more fur-like, whereas most short-haired GPs are hairy things.

At the second Petco we stopped at, I found him right away and knew he was it. He’s not all black, but he’s got gorgeous black and rusty brown colors. Almost the same colors Toffee had, but not in patches. It’s mixed in. His belly has a lighter mahogany-like color and there’s a little patch of that on his rear end, too.

He struggled like hell in the guy’s hands when one of the employees picked him up for me, then I took him and he calmed right down.

He was only $12, whereas the long-haired ones were $17. And of course, there were way more long-haired ones, but that’s cuz they’re so much more in demand. I’m glad I prefer short-haired ones. Everyone thinks the long-haired ones are so cute, but I think they’re goofy looking and they get so messy, too, with sawdust and shit matted in their fur.

So, we took Spunky home and he had a tick on him, but it shouldn’t be a big deal. If there’s any more, we’ll powder him up, as Tom said. When I first put him in with Bunny, Bunny sat there like nothing was going on. Spunky ran around and nestled against Bunny for a moment, then found his way into Piggy’s old house. He’s been burrowing in there. A little while later, Bunny was all psyched up and ran around batting his ears for the first time since Piggy died.

Now here’s the amazing part. He isn’t talking yet, which is typical of a pig when he’s first brought into a new home, but he actually ate some lettuce. Something they don’t do right away, either. Also, they don’t usually give kisses on the first day, but he did! I had him out a few times and he’s such a loving little sweetheart.

Later…

Just thought I’d write some more while Spunky gets adjusted to his new home. He’s awfully thin, but he’ll fatten up.

I’ve decided that this will be the last letter I send out to Shelly. I still love her dearly and I know she’s going through all kinds of shit right now and is bogged down with two kids, but I feel like this reunited friendship has been way too one-sided. So, I’ll let Shelly pick up the phone or a pen if she wants to. I’d rather let her make the next move (if she chooses to and I’ll accept whatever she decides), cuz that’d only be fair. I’ve done all the calling and writing and it should be her turn, but only if she wants to.

MONDAY, SEPTEMBER 1, 1997 About next door’s party - thank God they didn’t start their partying till around 6:30 and not at 2 PM like they used to, cuz then that’d be all the more hours for them to party.

The first carload came at 6:30, but I didn’t hear anything till 8:00. That’s when their kid and maybe other kids, and the adults started screaming non-stop for a good 45 minutes to an hour. It started to rain at this point, but even that wouldn’t drive them indoors. One or more than one of the kids was racing up and down the driveway with what sounded like an electric toy car.

Amazingly, there was no ball playing, but there couldn’t have been cuz afterward Tom said he saw 3 cars over there when he left for work at 7:30. Then, it was just the adults I heard till about 9:30. They must’ve had cars filled out to the street, cuz at one point I heard a horn honk that I could tell was on the street, then one of the adults yelled out, “Stop honking that horn!” Not because they were worried about it annoying others, of course, but because it annoyed them. There was a light blue car there and the maroon one, too. So Mike must drive these cars for a while, then sell them to friends, I guess. I only heard music for a few seconds as someone either came or left and it was so soft that I wasn’t even sure what I was hearing, so if I had been asleep, I’d never have been woken up.

At 9:30, they finally packed it in and even their dog shut up. That thing’s been barking more than the two dogs lately!

I got a message from my dad saying he heard I called and bet I was shocked that they got a computer and AOL. Yeah, I was. He also says they’re putting together a package of small and large flags, which is so nice of them.

I would copy and paste all their messages here, but then they wouldn’t be in my written journals and I don’t feel like copying all their messages to me by hand. Not that there’ll be too many or that they’ll be that long, I’m sure. So, we’ll see.

I guess I misunderstood Tom. I thought we were going GP hunting today, but instead, we’ll be going tomorrow. Hope I find that all-black piggy I always loved.

I love our new stackable washer and dryer. David hauled it here in his truck and they brought it in together. Then, Tom showed David some stuff on the Internet and I showed him a journal and some drawings.

After David left, he cut part of a high cupboard out, cuz this thing’s tall and we wanted it to fit in nicely, then installed the washer/dryer. I can reach the dryer lint trap easily. The washer one’s self-cleaning, so that’s nice. There’s a really super cool feature to the dryer and that’s that it’s got a sensor in it, so if the clothes are dry sooner than you’ve set it to shut off, it’ll shut off on its own. There are only two things I don’t like about it, but they’re minor inconveniences and that’s that the washer isn’t of very big capacity and I can’t wash and dry at the same time.

[betbeton]

✃ Let Sleeping Dogs Die

Derek Goffard × Reader

Warnings - All Derek Route Warnings (From the Game) can be Applied

18 + Minors DNI

·GN Reader·

·A/N- might make a part two, though this feels sorta like rambling in fic form. Hopefully it's not bad·

Other Versions

Lawrence · Strade · Mason -WIP

・❥・ Masterlist

The hot sand stung your feet as you padded behind the bottle blonde who called himself your owner, the choke collar that hung loosely around your neck a not so gentle reminder that thankfully you weren't the poor sods being hunted. Even if the pats to your head and condescending words thrown your way were infuriating there wasn’t anything you could do aside from force your tail to smack against the sand like a damn dog. Though with as angry as the situation made you this was your lot in life, a pet. Sold to the highest bidder several years ago by someone you used to view as a friend, mentor, the damn bastard waited till another monster came in to replace you. After all those years with you and teaching you how to navigate the world as a beast of a person he sold you to some damn bastard who gifted you to his son. A prize for his twenty fifth birthday. That was how you became a possession of Derek Goffard, a violent bastard with too much money at his disposal. At first he used you as a stress reliever when he was upset or angry, beating you to the point of near death day after day, but the worst had been yet to come. The first year he had taken you to the desert trip he had been excited for was absolute hell, first you had been abused in more ways than you had imagined, all physically and mentally taxing. The only consolation to have been had Derek didn’t allow the older man named Jack to force himself on you, Derek stating he didn’t want to deal with the aftermath of such abuse. After all what fun is a broken toy?

The cool metal links that made up your collar sinking into your neck and cutting off your air flow jerked you out of your head. Ears flattening to your head as you tucked your curled tail between your legs earning a cackle from your tormentor. Head jerking harshly backwards as Derek yanked on your half folded ear you allowed him to direct your gaze towards the people sat tied on the ground. Four people in total an older man with a black eye and three people who seemed to be near Derek’s age. One was a sobbing woman with blonde hair sat beside a man who was also sobbing, but unlike her he wasn’t nervously darting his gaze from person to person. The last person was Derek’s offering, poor sap had thought the person purchasing them wanted to go camping. What they lacked in the sense department they made up for with determination, if the angry glint in their eye was anything to go off of. You were so focused taking in the captives appearances that you didn’t register what Derek was yelling at you until he shoved your head into the sobbing girl’s chest, when had he dragged you over to them?

Any thoughts you had brewing were forced from your head when Derek left you after shoving you into the poor woman’s breasts like someone would a naughty puppy with its own piss. Tugging your face away from the sobbing woman you couldn’t help but to feel pity for her as you leaned in once more taking a deep inhale of her scent, sweat and something sweet peaches or maybe a flower you couldn’t pin point it. Repeating your actions you worked your way down the line until you came face to face with Derek’s offering. The intensity in their eyes had an itch at the back of you head urging you to cower away and whimper to show them you didn’t want conflict, though as you leaned in to sniff at them they spoke. The words were spoken directly into your one upright ear causing it to twitch as you listened.

“I’ll free you if you help me.”

They weren’t the first person to try and get your help, but something in their voice had your tail lightly swishing in anticipation. Sadly before you could respond the sound of someone screaming met your ears at the same time as the acidic smell of cigarettes and cheap cologne assaulted your nose, which had you reeling back away from the dead meat. Scrambling you slipped several times before coming to squat behind the closest people, the cultist creeps who called themselves Komodo and Dragon. Peaking out from behind the larger of the duo’s legs you watched as Jack dropped an irate woman onto the sand before directing his gaze to the group. A harsh whistle had you standing and taking a walk of shame back behind Derek, his hand reaching back to clip the leash back to your collar. After a brief squabble over who to use as first blood Derek dropped your leash as you struggled to suppress a whimper while you watched them drag the poor sobbing blonde woman away from the other captives, a pair of hands grasping your ears as they rubbed at them dragged your attention elsewhere. Despite finding them just as terrifying you were grateful for Komodo and Dragon’s fascination with you. They always seemed to demand your attention during first blood, at least when it was there one of their victims, almost as if irritating Derek by touching you was their revenge. Though it all came to a halt, the cold fingers rubbing your ears and the screaming, the later ceasing had your eyes darting over just in time to see Derek stomping over to grab your leash and tug you back behind him. Eyes watery as you were choked by your chain you could barely see what direction the captives ran off in. Though you were left to choke and gasp for air as Derek rummaged in his pocket snapping a tracker to your choke chain, the bastard smacked your legs with his bat when you were free of your leash yelling at you to sit in camp and be a good dog. 

Sadly some part of your mutt genes was fiercely loyal to Derek. How you wished you could will your feet the other direction, or maybe even sink your teeth into his throat or better yet rip out his intestines and devour them as he laid screaming on the sand gasping for mercy like all the victims he murdered.

You didn’t do any of that instead you obeyed like a good little dog, sitting down in the sand beside Derek’s bag guarding the camp as Jack liked to say. You weren’t guarding anything in truth if one of those poor sods approached camp while you were its sole inhabitant you wouldn’t stop them from pilfering it for food or water. Even if you were a dumb dog you still knew well enough someone would have to crave death to approach the camp, despite you knowing this it didn’t stop you from craving Derek’s hostage or better yet that strong looking woman Jack brought would show up. Even as Jack grabbed you collar yanking you towards one of the folding seats, mashing you head into the sand as he sat down on it only to laugh when you sputtered out grains of sand the dumb dog side of your brain held out hope someone anyone would murder these monsters.

When your hair was grabbed and you were forced face first into the older man’s crotch you fought the urge to sink your teeth into his cock as it harshly pressed into your mouth, resisted the urge to maim and kill the man before you as his erection sat heavily on your tongue. Though some idiot answered your prayers as you heard footsteps approaching the shit hole they called camp, Jack stood abruptly with a bitter laugh as he shoved you into the sand and took off after what you assumed was his captive. 

Crawling back to Derek’s bag you laid in the sun sleeping for several hours until the light grew low and the air started to chill, your que to wake and find your owner to help him with a final hunt for the day. Though as you stood up from the sand dusting off you legs you made eye contact with Derek's victim, dried blood smeared on their bottom lip and the metallic smell following them a clear indication they had an encounter with one of those bastards. Though when they rushed towards you hands grasping at your collar you panicked, clawed hand slashing at them only to stop short when the chain was lifted above your head and tossed to the ground. Even if it was just a simple loop of metal it still felt as if the weight of the world was lifted from your shoulders. As they grabbed the loose fabric of your top you couldn't deny their silent urging to follow them. On their heels you ran after them, it was all a blur even when they said you were safe to wait out the night in some dank cave you still didn't quite comprehend what was happening. Until the next day you had sat by the door like a statue, ears erect and tail stiff waiting for the final boot to drop.

At around midday was when you decided to wonder out of the cave, scrambling down the loose rocky earth to the harsh desert below. Your bare feet sinking into the hot sand as you wondered head tilted towards the earth sniffing for any traces of your bastards owner's scent. The wait wasn't long, just as you had caught the scent of something decaying the noise of a vehicle nearing startled you. Standing stock still your flight or fight response didn't register, you knew that running and hiding was your best option but you couldn't will you legs to move from their spot sinking into the blistering sand.

Head dipping down as you waited for the inevitable. And when it came in the form of a bat harshly smacking into your chest there was no resistance from your body as you buckled and landed in the sand. Mouth and nose inhaling a concerning amount of grit as you wildly thrashed once on the ground, though the thrashing and scrambling to gain purchase with your clawed hands and feet didn't last long. The tap of a bat against your back had you freezing yet again curled tail shifting to try and tuck between your legs as best it could as your terrified form laid trembling on the sand. The cackle that met you ears as you were smacked in the back of the head with that damned bat, the impact caused pain to bloom on the back of your skull eyes squinting as black spots sparked across your vision. Ears ringing as you tried desperately to comprehend and absorb what you tormentor was saying.

“Listen, I would hate to have to kill my favourite puppy. So why don’t you make it up to me?” Derek tapped at your spine harshly with his bat as he spoke.

Curling into yourself your mind disassociated, it felt as if you were floating far away from this situation. Even further away more like the past, before you had been thrust into this world of torment. Even before you met that fox bastard. Back when you were just you, a simple puppy of a person who only knew borderline suffocating joy and the normalcy of pretending to be human. That's all it was in the end even now as you were treated as a pet you still would pretend to be human when Derek brought you in public, when he paraded around like he was hot shit. Though that damned bat smacking against your spine had you rocketing back to reality, the old you who was happy and content a distant fading memory. What wasn't a fading memory though was the laboured and fearful breathing your ears had picked up. Part of you had thought that, when you first encountered the monster, catching the scent of Derek's victim had been a trick of boarder line heatstroke. It would seem you had been wrong. Very wrong. As you heard them level their breathing and stand was the moment you struck as Derek's focus shifted to his preferred victim of the moment you shakily hoisted yourself up to your feet once more. Looming beside Derek you could see the momentary fear that flashed in the eyes of his victim as they thought you might betray them.

It was absurd really. You had no loyalty to anyone. Not even yourself, you would gladly sell your soul to be free of this man. But the damn idiot dog side of your brain had you longing for the damn dead meat to reassure you, for them to say everything would be alright. It irritated you and grated at your already frayed nerves. However you didn't direct any anger at them it was all reserved for Derek.

You had turned to face him just as he had reached out to grab the back of your neck. In his arrogant and distracted state you took the moment to strike. Launching yourself at him pinning him beneath your body as he hollered and struck you. Still your didn't let up, leaning down and sinking your teeth into his neck in a panicked state of your own. The metallic twinge of blood flooding your mouth had you gagging as your head thrashed from side to side, much like a dog tearing apart a toy. The sickening gurgle of your tormentor trying to order you off of him and yelling most likely obscenities at you and the world had you clamping your jaw tighter. It was perversely invigorating to steal the life away from someone who regularly made you eat corpses on these damned yearly trips, or worse if he was feeling ... particular that day.

It felt like forever of you thrashing your head and wrenching his most likely shredded esophagus from his throat, but a set of hands grabbing at your thin shirt had you reeling back. Momentarily forgetting it was Derek you had been mutilating and not some poor sap who he had purchased. Whipping around with your ears perked relief flooded your body as you came face to face with Derek's victim. Their shaking hands frantically grabbing at your face as they tucked a finger into your bloody mouth to make sure you were unharmed. The anger and borderline blood lust you had felt mere moments ago was still very present at the forefront of your mind as you snapped at their hand, sharp teeth sinking into the meat of it in warning.

Instead of treating you with anger or annoyance they backed off which left you reeling almost craving they had struck you... If only to feel the sense of normalcy being reprimanded and punished provided. Even if they did respect your boundary they still kept a hand on your body to try and sooth you, the now bloodied hand that you had attacked. They gently rubbed at your ears cooing out genuine words, that you were safe and everything would be okay. You knew they were wrong, Jack and Machete were still out there somewhere. Plotting on how to catch and mutilate the victims who remained, but when the heat had cooled down and you sat with everyone actually engaging in conversation the topic of murdering Jack came up. And it left you hopeful, even if your face was practically cacked with Derek's blood and you had secretly gone back several times that day to mutilate his corpse beyond recognition you were still excited to finally taste freedom.

[localvoidcat]

FMR plot poorly explained

So you’ve got these two guys: Andre and Josh. They live in this weird little town called Amber Falls that actually isn’t weird considering that witches and werewolves and vampires and stuff exist in their universe and everyone knows about it but Amber Falls is still definitely weird

Anyways andre’s just having the time of his life, even if his dad is kind of forcing him to be a were beast hunter like the rest of the people on his dad’s side of the family, but shit goes down the drain when andre just turns into a werewolf one night and salvador (his dad) tries to kill him. he manages to injure him but not kill him though, and andre wakes up the next morning with a vague recollection of what happened. He goes to josh who is like hell yeah dude I’ll help you totally not because im in love with you or something yeah totally not dude hey you wanna kiss as they’re escaping the town, josh gets shot and killed by salvador. Andre attacks salvador, josh dies in his arms, angsty shit or whatever. Andre escapes the town.

But of course josh couldn’t just die then. Apparently fucked up magic + a pendant with a link to spirit magic sent him right to the void dimension (which is kind of where the gods reside? It’s this dark place where your soul just floats) but oh no he is. Still awake in this dimension and he is not supposed to be here. the god of death (mortem is their name) sees him and is like what the fuck dude get out so she brings him back to life by. Kicking him out of what is essentially heaven.

So josh wakes up in the hospital, he’s now got these weird connections to the afterlife and stuff. His soul isn’t really fully attached to his body anymore/it’s partly trapped in the afterlife which means that one, he can see ghosts now. It is driving him insane and two, he can temporarily become one by. And this is so funny to me because he literally just falls over but he can eject his soul fully from his body and walk around as a little spirit dude. Despite how cool this is he still spent time in the void dimension, where even a few seconds can feel like hundreds of years, so he’s a little fucked up over that. Also the fact that he died. Also the fact that the guy who killed him is telling everyone in the town that Andre died, which josh knows isn’t true but he can’t really say anything without also exposing andre so he. Isn’t able to just yet meanwhile with andre he’s started participating in these werebeast fights to earn money, and holy shit dude get out of there you are getting the shit beat out of you physically and mentally. a couple months/a year after joining though, he finally leaves and joins what I call the werewolf gang. It’s not even a gang it’s just a group of friends that all happen to be fruity werewolves which is great because he’s also a fruity werewolf. Anyways laurel, one of the people in said group (there’s only like four people bro) kind of acts like an older brother to andre and helps him control his lycanthropy which is awesome because gods know he needs that cut back to amber falls where josh is uh. Actually he isn’t doing much aside from being tortured by the restless spirits of the undead. He’s fine totally fine nothing wrong there oh my god im forgetting my own plot. Uh there’s a weird gray space for a while where andre is just. hanging out with his friends/found family and also learning about the rest of the supernatural world which is good for ghim. I mean he’s also having to deal with the embodiment of his curse that likes to torment him over josh’s death but that’s totally fine it’s not messing with him at all

Also andre’s been searching for a way to break his curse because. As cool as it is turning into a giant wolf monster for three nights a month it’s also awful and he’s being actively hunted for it. People are out there trying to sell his pelt so. Yeah he needs to get rid of this curse now. so he’s searching for that with no luck, which is why he’s getting way too involved with magical stuff. okay so a lot of time has passed obviously. It’s been like seven or eight years since the incident, so they’re 21/22 by now. we finally come back to josh, who has been trying to hunt down the source of andre’s curse all these years, not knowing that hey andre’s doing that too. Of course josh is more successful in his attempts because he’s kind of using some of the hunters in Salvador’s association to get information. And by using them I absolutely mean that he’s dating one of them. Gaslight gatekeep boyboss he also kind of. Summons the spirit of andre’s ancestor, trying to find out the truth straight from the source. The ancestor is named victor for future reference, and victor agrees to help him uncover the truth. which is of course located in Salvador’s office at his headquarters, and of course there’s an event going on there to celebrate a century of service to the town or something. Josh gets into the event using his hunter date, manages to break into Salvador’s office, and would you look at that there’s handwritten journals by torres family members (torres is the family name. i am all over the place) describing ways in which they’ve tried to break the curse and the things to lead up to them getting it. Apparently a hundred years ago victor was killing were beasts to the point where they weren’t safe in the town anymore, some witch got mad at him and cursed him to turn into a werewolf, and now every other torres family member turns into a werewolf if the previous curse holder has passed on. Andre got his curse because his grandfather died just before he turned, which explains why it was so sudden or. something

Josh is trying to collect these things and oh what do you know Salvador’s here. He kills josh for the second time, leaving his corpse on the floor of his office, and starts burning the evidence of a curse. Salvador, for context, is desperate to uphold his family name, to the point where he would and has killed to do so.

Of course he doesn’t really realize that josh can come back to life, so once the bitch does, josh immediately attacks salvador. Also remember Salvador burning the evidence? Yeah the place is on fire now because of their fight. They’re beating the shit out of each other as the place crumbles, everyone leaving the building except for the both of them. there was a way for josh and salvador to escape, but josh had that “if im dying you’re coming down with me” mentality and ended up letting the both of them die to smoke inhalation. 

Josh wakes up after another totally not traumatizing trip to the void dimension, realizes that the flames are being handled, and also realizes oh shit he killed a man he needs to get out of this town now. he escapes the town (oh hey didn’t this happen eight years ago), and has to start a new life as a completely different person.

Also I forgot to talk about josh’s family, but this portion of the story focuses a little on how they’re affected by his “death”. They don’t know that he’s alive and the person affected most by this is his twin sister Julie, who is obviously going through stuff because. She watched her brother go through horrible depression for years, constantly have trouble from other people in the town after his coming out (for context. Josh is also a trans guy and amber falls is. Not a very good town to be trans in), and now everyone thinks that he committed a murder-suicide. So she’s pretty distraught over that. Julie I am so sorry I care about you very much now on the other side of things, we get a good moment about two years after josh’s death, when andre and josh finally reunite thanks to the fact that josh decided to search for him, just to see if he could set things right. they’re talking again, they’re discussing everything that’s happened and oh they’re in love now. I mean it only took them ten years to get over the mutual pining. I care very much about these two.

A while later like. A year or two, they decide to go back to amber falls one last time just to come clean to their families (also because they’d like to have people they know at their wedding. They’ve both been under the radar and would like to speak to people again). So they do and. well isa (andre’s mom) is so happy to see her son again. she doesn’t even care that he turns into a murderous creature every now and then she’s just so happy to have him back. also she finally realizes that Salvador was a shitty husband which is great because it took her too long to figure that out. Also she’s fine with the two of them being together (she’s a little concerned that his partner is the main suspect behind what was possibly the biggest crime to occur in amber falls but. Whatever makes her son happy ig)

On josh’s side though…yikes. Obviously his family is more than overjoyed that he’s okay, but julie is not too happy about the fact that he just left without telling them anything. It’s understandable because she spent two years of her life grieving, and just as she gets over it he shows up again. So things are tense between the two of them but overall it’s still good because he’s alive and they’re all safe.

From here there’s less major events and things calm down. Everything I write from this point on is usually just the two of them being together, or whatever I feel like in the moment

Also. There are two endings to this story. One of which being that they get to have a happy life together and the other being that. They both die tragically, but together. The second one I have cried over multiple times.

Anyways I hope you enjoyed my dumbass little story I love these freaks so much

Forgot to mention there’s a part just before Josh’s second + third deaths where andre gets cursed by the descendant of the witch that cursed victor, and the curse ends up getting him trapped in a wolf form for like. Five months until the werewolf gang helps turn him back (he still has the curse, but wears an amulet that stops him from transforming or whatever)

ALSO another part I forgot to mention is that josh has a fourth death between the events of his third death and the reunion, in which he takes his life in an attempt to sever his connection with the gods. it fails somewhat, but it's his way of getting back I suppose. so yeah

[author-a-holmes]

I LOVE THIS!

There's so many little gems in here even if I can already tell this whole process isn't quite for me!! I read it before going to bed but I'm going to have to reread this a couple of times and tease out the parts of your process I want to try implementing within my own!! <3

I'm going to do a little bit of a breakdown on what I'm going to try out, and what I'm not going to try, beneath the cut, in case anyone is interested in seeing how I incorporate other techniques into my own toolset, but @unbearable-lightness-of-ink don't feel obliged to wade through it!

Just thank you very much for sharing! I love learning new methods and techniques, and hearing from other writers about their processes ^_^ <3

1) Round Out The First Draft

Yes! I do this already. I don't go back and make edits while I'm writing the draft. That's possibly the fastest was for me to confuse myself, and get lost in the reeds. This is also why I need a 2nd draft for Darkling. I didn't have a huge number of things to add or change with Changeling, so when I got to the end of my frist draft it was really clean.

I start with an outline on the computer, and then as I'm writing I will build a physical timeline as I write stuck to a large sheet of craft paper that's taped to the wall of a cupboard in my living room. This really helps me keep everything neat, and logical, and in order, so I've never needed to go back and add a whole lot of stuff at the end of the first draft before.

Darkling's become a different beast, I've still got about 7 chapters to go, and I already know (from my physical timeline building) that I need to add a lot of content, and at one point a whole new chapter, which is why I'm looking at a 2nd draft for the first time.

2) Leave It To Cool

This is common writing advice because it works really well for a lot of people. It doesn't work for me. I've tried it, and I get bored too easily. I have to be able to dive straight back into a project once I'm done, and I beat myself up for that for a long time, until I learned that Sarra Cannon does the same thing (Vindication tastes sweet lol)

Seriously though, I would always recommend to authors to follow this step because it DOES work best for most writers.

It doesn't for me I think, in part, because my distance from my stories takes literal years. I can remember every detail of my books, the stories never fade. I can remember the plots of stories I wrote over twenty years ago, so it's easier for me to just dive straight back in. At most, I usually give myself a week, but that's more to give myself a break and a rest, before starting work on my edits as I usually find them very mentally draining.

3) Rewrite

Ah, the bit I'm most excited to dig into, since I've never actually done a rewrite before!

Starting with a brand new blank doocument, and setting it up via a split screen on my main desktop PC (so the screen is large enough) was my plan, so I'm glad to see I was on the right track with that Lol

Adding in chapters, changing transitions, fixing magic systems, etc, all of these are what I was referring to when I said rewrites are for big, structural changes.

And I think this leans into where every writer writes differently, and every book requires a slightly different process. Rarely do I need to change things at the developmental edit level, by the time my first draft if finished.

The fact that I do this time is exactly why I'm going to move into a rewrite.

And you mention those changes is where your drafts split off from the original. I agree, I can already see where some of the pieces I need to add are potentially going to change later scenes in the story. Some of the scenes may change the relationships between characters, like a series of cause-and-effect ripples. It's going to be rather exciting to see how those ripples span out.

Take notes as you go; I do this already for the first draft, it only seems to make sense that I'd continue doing it on a rewrite. Things I spot and need to address in my editing passes that wo't change the trajectory of the story. Often these aree foreshadowing pieces I need to include for me, sometimes I'll notice I've foreshadowed something and I'll want to go back and make sure there's more than one instance for readers to pick up on, for example.

A lot of the details you mention addressing in a rewrite, such as Character Dialogue, POV imbalances, or setting details, are things I address as I'm drafting. I can't not, because if it's wrong, if it feels wrong or sounds wrong my brain stalls on them, and I grind to a complete halt.

The sheer number of times I've had to backtrack and rewrite a chapter from a different character's POV because my head just won't let me keep writing in the wrong POV is too many to count.

When it comes to researching technical details, this is also something I usually do during the outlining stage, and include in my pre-writing worldbuilding research. Again, has become a different beast for me this time because I do have a few things I need to worldbuild in that I didn't want to pause writing to figure out. The downsides to writing a large majority of the first draft during Nanowrimo, tbh.

4) Fill plot holes, reorder scenes, and add missing stuff

This is the stage of your process where you lose me. I don't make huge structural changes in this way because I plan out the shape of the story before I start writing.

This is part of my outlining process, and I don't have sections where I add [Write this scene] or [add transition] because I cannot write out of order. And if I'm going to reorder scenes, that happens during the first draft because, well, I can't write out of order.

I've said it a couple of times, but Darkling is a bit of a different beast for me. I know I need to add in a new chapter somewhere between chapters 19 and 20. This is highly unusual for me and my process, but is also why I'm doing a rewrite for the first time.

I can't just go back and add that extra chapter, it will feel really disjointed and weaving in the section into the story requires, for me, to write the story from the beginning and weave in the new strands the during the flow of the overall narrative.

5) Time travel aka chronology aka “how the fuck did they to all those things before sunset?”

Yesssssss!!! I love this! But, not a big but, BUT, I do this while drafting.

This is part of the reason I create a physical outline/timeline on a sheet of paper on the wall while writing my first draft. I stick post it notes on the wall, and on each note I give rough details of what happens in that chapter... and at the top of the post it note I put which day of the story it is, or what date it is if the story is set in the real world.

I started doing this for Changeling because the vampire school classes ran overnight, which mean every day was technically spanning 2 days, and I got myself really confused on the timeline... but I found it SO helpful that I've continued the habit.

(I'm gonna hope this is small enough/blurry enough that all the spoilers are unreadable *crosses fingers*)

6) Vibe checks

This one I want to adopt wholesale. In combination with your note about how editing each chapter in isolation (which is my current method) doesn't give you a birds eye view, because you're totally right.

I tend to have a particularly good birds eye view of my story, because I don't forget my plots, like I mentioned earlier, but doing a complete read through/pass through to focus specifically on things like character voice is something I want to adopt into my process.

Character voice is something that can be so easy to get wrong, that even though I'm confident in it, because I tend to slip into a character's headspace fairly easily, I don't think that doing a pass specifically focussed on it can ever really be a bad thing.

I have one character in Darkling who speaks in very short, clipped, sentences, and one of my notes for my self edits is to go through and check that none of his sentences extend past 15 words long, unless he's in a high-emotional state.

Things like that are, and should, require a pass all of their own, so you can focus in and pay attention to details.

7) Cuts

This is a tough one to address, because many people feel very, very strongly about cuts.

I also don't want to just gloss over it, because it's important for every writer to consider the impact their words are having on the narrative, and to learn how to differentiate between something that adds to the story you're trying to tell, and something that you just want to share with the reader.

For the latter option, I'd advise taking that stuff you just want to share because it's cool, and making bonus content, or a reader magnet for your newsletter, or whatever.

For me, personally, I'm a very wordy writer, but I'm wordy with a purpose. And what I mean by that is I can point to any single paragraph in my book and tell you at least 2 things it's doing.

Whether that's character development, character backstory, worldbuilding, foreshadowing, or actively moving the plot along, it's there for at least two reasons. I prefer to have 3 or more, but if a piece of writing only has one reason for being there I either remove it (Copy and paste it into a "Scraps" file), or I rewrite it so it's doing more heavy lifting.

This part is interesting because I don't have a specific section of my editing process dedicated to this. I kind of work on it as I go through everything else, and I mean that from the first draft through to the final editing passes before it goes off to my Editor.

If I spot a section that's not pulling it''s weight, I fix it, one way or the other.

On the other hand, I'm a wordy writer. I know this and accept this about myself, and it's also part of the reason I never contemplated traditional publishing. I wanted to be able to tell the story I wanted to tell, in the way I wanted to tell it... so as long as I can see the wrods are doing multiuple things, and aren't ONLY there for gratuitious info dumping, then I'm not too harsh with my cuts either.

8) Ctrl+F fixes (I'm switching this one from 9 to 8)

Oh bloody hell. Okay. This is an entire editing pass for me. I actually do this part per chapter. I have a list of my personal crutch words and phrases, and I check every chapter for them during my self edits.

For my biggest ones, I'll then do one more Ctrl+F at the end to see how many are LEFT across the entire document, just in case I need to thin them out even more.

9) Make It Pretty

I moved this one from 8 to 9 because it's the last stage I do before sending it to my editor. I tend to do this readthrough right before I need to send it off to my editor, maybe a week before, because by this point I've been going over every single chapter one chapter at a time.

It's probably been about 2 months since I read chapter 1 and did my self editing process on that chapter, so I just go right back to the beginning and reread through from the start.

I'm usually very happy with the manuscript at this stage, what I'm mostly looking for are places where I repeat myself, because if I find something I think needs rewriting in the editing stage, I'll hit enter and rewrite it on the next line. Sometimes I'll forget to remove the previous version of the paragraph from above it.

Apart form that, this pass is usually my fastest, and easiest.

10) Proofread

Before proofreading, it goes out to my editor, but, uh...

I don't proofread my own work. <3 I know I'm probably going to get yelled at for this one, but I don't!

By this point in the process I'm usually sick of rereading it lol, so my manuscript will come back from my editor for the line/copy edits. I'll work with her to make all the appropriate changes, and once we've finished and the file has been okay'd I move onto formatting.

Once the book's formatted, I'll then send it out to my mum and a couple of friends (who act as my informal proofreaders).

Once I've fixed anything THEY'VE caught, I send out my ARC's. Anything my ARC readers catch and message me about gets edited in my formatting program, the book files redownloaded, and the final, buyable files, then uploaded to all vendors

Again, I know this isn't the best way to do this, and one day I hope to earn enough money from my books to hire both a copy/line editor AND a proofreader, but in the meantime, I rely on my friends, family, and ARC team for those final, tweaks.

This is a purely financial decision, and if an author can afford a proofreader, I'd absolutely recommend one.

11) Send it to Someone; Make Subsequent Passes

I don't do this, because I don't have a critique partner I'd trust with my work. There's a couple of people I would trust to critique my work, but they'd all busy with their own projects.

If I was going to do this, I'd be sending it out for feeedback around stage 6 (vibe checks) before stage 7 (cuts) just because I'd like to see if they suggest cutting the same pieces I'd cut, or if their favourite parts are something I was going to cut, I might then consider leaving it in.

But all in all, I've been writing for twenty.... four? years? I wanna say twenty four. I tend towards trusting my own instincts at this point, and when they fail mum will always tell me if something's not working. Even if she can't articulate why, that usually gives me a good jumping off point to sort it out on my own.

It has recently occurred to me that to make a second draft after the first one I have to... rewrite the entire thing?? Not just, take the document and, edit ON IT, OVER it.

And that a first draft is not really supposed to be... readable?

Guys I need help,.how do you do drafts??

[neutinya]

Some relationships are you, a human, with a human partner, and other are you, a human, and your 240cm tall monster bf, but that's okay - !! I included their backstory as well as the setting up of the general context for this AU below the cut so if you’re interested,,, do consider reading it fhdjdj;;; I'm really happy with how this turned out and it's super fun to draw monster tooru and his 4 arms lmao I'm super excited for this AU;;; I really wanna draw more of it dndjjxjd

Iwa is monster-hunter royal blood. However he doesn't want to be heir to the monster hunter shit so he decided to run away the day before his coronation??

As a kid he would play with all the monster animals near the forest which is where he met his lizard familiar and llama ceb. The day he runs away he brings them with him??

The moment he ran away from his kingdom and title as prince he was immediately hunted down by hunters sent by his own family for dishonouring them the Iwaizumi name. Like he's straight up wanted??? ahhh

Somewhere along the way he meets Tooru and they probably wouldn't get along at the start

?? Like they meet at some weird beer house?? And Iwa obviously sticks out because he's human and humans aren't exactly super welcomed because of the history between monsters and humans. Iwa being oblivious to the monster world obviously doesn't realise why this four armed dude won't stop pestering him in spite of his attempts to keep a low profile.

Tooru had approached him because he was sure if he didn't step in, Iwa would have been killed

Iwa was initially extremely resistant to Tooru's "advances" until Tooru whispers into Iwa's ear that "I don't know if you realised but almost every monster in this beer house is staring at you with the intent to kill, so unless you want to leave this place alive, play along and let me get you out of here"

And Iwa just looks around the room and he realises that Tooru was right so he plays along and they try to leave but one of the monsters in the beer house walks up to them and asks Tooru to back off so they could kill Iwa, and Tooru is just like "no can do, he's a friend of mine" and the dude is just like "move." But Tooru is adamant much to the annoyance of the other. A fight kinda breaks out, but much to Iwa's surprise, Tooru managed to take all of them down with ease

As they go aside, Iwa just asks Tooru why doesn't he want to kill him like the rest of the monsters and Tooru is just 🤷🤷🤷🤷🤷 Iwa apologises for causing such a big commotion and getting Tooru involved unnecessarily. Tooru says it's not a problem and Iwa not really having that much money on him, asks if he could return him in some other way? He offers a family heirloom at first but Tooru is just like "Not interested, although how about you let me tag along wherever you're headed?"

Iwa’s response is just "???" Tooru says "look, you aren't getting anywhere in these parts as a human, if I tag along, you won't have to worry too much about being killed and you returned the favour, it's a win win."

So that's how they kinda go off on their journey!!! Iwa actually learns a lot about monsters from Tooru who seemed much more knowledgeable than he looked (no offense to Tooru but that was Hajime’s genuine first impression) There were so many different types of monsters and Iwa was just?? So amazed and almost excited that there were so many things for him to learn and explore??

Like okay they had a bad first impression but he was kinda starting to like Tooru as a companion, listening to way Tooru told all those stories offered him a comfort that he never had back at home

Tooru did most of the talking honestly but Iwa was always intently listening and Tooru could tell he was intrigued and super attentive so he didn’t mind

He did ask Iwa about why he was wandering around in the first place and why the hell was he just traversing across the land with no plan or knowledge of the terrain. Iwa tells Tooru he ran away from his family but neglected to tell Tooru he was of royal monsterhunter blood. Iwa fires back the same question and Tooru responds saying “I get bored of spending all my time in the same old place every day.” neglecting to tell Iwa the fact that he too was of royal blood, the king to one of the many monster kingdoms. (Actually one of the most feared in fact??)

I was thinking the four armed form isn't his real monster form but a less scary version, he's actually a huge fearsome beast but he would walk around in this form to blend with the common folk. This also explains why people don’t recognize him, because if they really knew who he was, they’d be terrified of him.

Tooru is extremely flirty and generally enjoys teasing Hajime. Iwa's lizard does not like Tooru at all. It would be sitting on Iwa's shoulder, breathing small fireballs at Tooru whenever the brunette got too close- For example, when Tooru tries to wrap an arm around Iwa's shoulder or waist, Haji’s lizard would get extremely angry and began attacking him. Tooru is super upset about this tiny little creature preventing him from getting close to his new human companion, but nevertheless, he learns to pick moments where the lizard is asleep to try and engage with Haji

Sidenote, Iwa is a really fucking good archer and good at knives. He may not have had the heart to be a monster hunter, but he definitely had the physical skills to be one if he desired.

Of course there’s a bunch of shenanigans, but honestly speaking there’s also a good amount of sexual tension?? They have a lot of moments where they kinda save each other, whether it be having run ins with unfriendly monsters or humans, to navigating dangerous terrain and making hard decisions;;

They grow to be rather close friends I would dare say;; In fact, for the most part, Tooru would be Iwa's first genuine friend :(( Iwa was never given the luxury of having friends growing up. He spent most of his time training to be a monster hunter or learning about them, which is why he grew super attached to Tooru platonically at first

Once they have a pretty mean run in where Tooru ends up seriously hurt;; Iwa was so scared that he would lose Tooru at that moment;; Tooru fake dies to kinda tease Iwa but he didn't expect Iwa to cry, so as Iwa is there like "don't die on me you idiot-" Tooru "comes back to life" and is all like "awww is Iwa-chan crying because of me?" And Iwa, embarrassed, just punches him in the chest and wipes away his tears like "shut the fuck up asshole"

Tooru is just like "ow- I may not be dead but I'm still kinda hurt you know?" And Iwa feels bad so he just tries to play it off like "that's what you deserve dumbass" before treating Tooru's wounds. They end up spending the night at this cave near a lake where they decided to stay for a few days since Tooru was pretty beat up and the weather was pretty bad

Haji pretty much nursed Tooru back to health, finding berries, herbs and all that during the day in order to make medicine and food

I think at one point Tooru comments "You're really good at this kinda thing huh?" And Iwa is just confused like "good at what?" And Tooru elaborates "taking care of people. Not everyone can make medicine like you do you know?" And Iwa just says it was nothing and he learned most of it from reading when he was a kid

Also like I said the weather was pretty bad so imagine Iwa curling up next to his llama and lizard for warmth. Tooru finds it so fucking adorable??? Clearly the two of them loved Iwa and vice versa, but he couldn't help but feel a little jealous at the sight uxjxhdh

So like one night he just casually says "you guys sure look warm over there" and Iwa just looks at him like 😐

"I gave you my cape you know" and Tooru just "Monsters can't regulate heat like humans do, at least not my species" That was a lie but Iwa didn't know that, so he kinda just looks at Tooru funny before scooting over to Tooru and lying down next to him. His llama and lizard follow, and scoot on Tooru's other side so Tooru is kinda sandwiched in between Haji and the pets. Iwa just mumbles a quiet "now go to sleep dumbass" and Tooru just smiles like a fucking idiot

Iwa quickly dozes off but Tooru not so much, when he was sure Iwa was asleep he gently drapes the cape over Iwa instead before going to bed himself

The next day Iwa is the first to wake up and much to his fucking surprise, he was pretty much incapable of moving because Tooru had somehow wound up hugging him with two of his arms. He was so embarrassed he thought he could die so he could only stay there and not do anything. After while he realises that staying like that could only mean more mental suffering so he slowly tries inching away from Tooru to which he eventually succeeds

He does his morning routine which was to look for berries and herbs because Tooru needed quite a bit of medicine. Tooru was definitely close to being back to his healthy normal self but he still needed to make sure that everything was in check

[batboys-batboys]

I’ve recently witnessed some discourse in the fandom in which the OP called Nesta an abuser and offered thoughts on the relationship dynamic she has with her sisters vs with Emerie and Gwyn, the Valkyries she now refers to as sisters. Someone commented on said post and asked when Nesta had abused Elain. There’s inherent bias in this post as I really like Elain’s character in the books but for the purposes of this post only CANON will be referenced.

First off, let me preface this by saying I love Nesta as a character, but I don’t put her on any kind of pedestal for a multitude of reasons. Also, please let me know if you’d like for me to retag this in any particular way as this is my first serious post.

Here we go…

Chapter 17

Silver lined Elain’s eyes, but her voice remained steady, sure. “There was nothing that could have been done to save him, Nesta.”

The words were kindling. Elain had accepted his death as inevitable. She hadn’t bothered to fight for him, as if he hadn’t been worth the effort, precisely as Nesta knew she herself wasn’t worth the effort.

This time, Nesta didn’t stop the power from shining in her eyes; she shook so violently she had to fist her hands. “You tell yourself there’s nothing that could have been done because it’s unbearable to think that you could have saved him, if you’d only deigned to show up a few minutes earlier.” The lie was bitter in her mouth.

It wasn’t Elain’s fault their father had died. No, that was entirely Nesta’s own fault. But if Elain was so determined to root out the good in her, then she’d show her sister how ugly she could be. Let a fraction of this agony rip into her.

This was why Elain had chosen Feyre. This.

Feyre had rescued Elain time and again. But Nesta had sat by, armed only with her viper’s tongue. Sat by while they starved. Sat by when Hybern stole them away and shoved them into the Cauldron. Sat by when Elain had been kidnapped. And when their father had been in Hybern’s grip, she had done nothing, nothing to save him, either. Fear had frozen her, blanketing her mind, and she’d let it do so, let it master her, so that by the time her father’s neck had snapped, it had been too late. And entirely her fault.

Why wouldn’t Elain choose Feyre?

Elain stiffened, but refused to balk from whatever she beheld in Nesta’s gaze. “You think I’m to blame for his death?” Challenge filled each word. Challenge—from Elain, of all people. “No one but the King of Hybern is to blame for that.” The quaver in her voice belied her firm words.

Nesta knew she’d hit her mark. She opened her mouth, but couldn’t continue. Enough. She had said enough. That fast, the power in her receded, vanishing into smoke on the wind. Leaving only exhaustion weighing her bones, her breath. “It doesn’t matter what I think. Go back to Feyre and your little garden.”

Even during their squabbles in the cottage, fighting over who got clothes or boots or ribbons, it had never been like this. Those fights had been petty, born of misery and discomfort. This was a different beast entirely, from a place as dark as the gloom at the base of the library.

Not the blatant belittlement with that “little garden” comment. Trust me when I say I know intrusive thoughts and that this was early on in Nesta’s mental journey but still. This is her, CANONICALLY, preying on Elain’s emotions about what happened with their father and Hybern. We know that Nesta went through a lot of self-hate in this book but that whole “Let a fraction of this agony rip into her” was uncalled for. Elain went to see her sister, whom she admires and recognizes as her protector, only to get chewed out. Don’t get me wrong, I’m aware that Nesta didn’t want her there but Nesta was unable to control her emotions and consciously sought to hurt Elain with her words. (Not that she’s not hurting/hating herself too I mean just read the underlined part.)

Chapter 21 (sidenote: this chapter needs to be talked more about in the fandom)

Post Nesta refusing to let Elain find the Trove and the “Shall I tend to my little garden forever?” moment. (iconic btw)

Nesta’s pulse pounded throughout her body. “Do you not remember the war? What we encountered? Do you not remember the Cauldron kidnapping you, bringing you into the heart of Hybern’s camp?”

“I do,” Elain said coldly. “And I remember Feyre rescuing me.”

For a heartbeat, it appeared that Elain might say something to soften the words. But Nesta cut her off, seething at the pity about to be thrown her way. “Look who decided to grow claws after all,” she crooned. “Maybe you’ll become interesting at last, Elain.”

Nesta saw the blow land, like a physical impact, in Elain’s face, her posture. No one spoke, though shadows gathered in the corners of the room, like snakes preparing to strike.

Elain’s eyes brightened with pain. Something imploded in Nesta’s chest at that expression. She opened her mouth, as if it could somehow be undone. But Elain said, “I went into the Cauldron, too you know. And it captured me. And yet somehow all you can think of is what mytrauma did to you.”

Aside from the obvious iconic nature of this whole exchange here we see Nesta yet again hurt and belittle Elain. And yeah, sure, Elain tried to hurt Nesta too here by throwing in that reminder that it was Feyre (and Az) who went into Hybern’s camp and rescued her. But as soon as she did it she went into an apology mode but was cut off as her sister couldn’t stand someone feeling sad for her and needed to remind Elain that she’s a bad person who hurts others. The “interesting at last” comment was a (pardon my French) bitch move. There, I said it.

Nesta knew just which words to use to beat down her younger sister who’d always looked up to her, and she didn’t hesitate to use them. She knew which words would hurt her and she said them. Elain shot back here though and reminded Nesta that her trauma with being captured by the Cauldron is her own and no one can shoulder that for her. And that despite this trauma, she’s willing to risk herself to find the Trove and face the magic that took her choices away.

Anyways, I just wanted to shed some light on some scenes that I think a lot of readers and participants of the acotar tumblr fandom glossed over. These were, coincidentally, 2 of the few times Elain showed up in ACOSF. I mean, given the fandom’s warring views on Elain as a character it’s not shocking people would gloss over her and Nesta’s interactions (even though she who knows more about Nesta than anyone else).

I guess I’ll close this by saying that Nesta is not a perfect character. And, admittedly, these scenes did happen in the first half of the book. However, just because Nesta battled her mental health and overcame a lot of challenges, it doesn’t erase the fact that she hurt Elain with her words. She preyed on her younger sister’s love for her and (to my recollection) did not apologize for the way she treated her. Nesta’s an interesting character and so is Elain. Elain is a huge part of the acotar story/world, whether you like it or not.

[amonrawya]

The Greatest Gift of All

(Inspired by^ for the people who asked :D hope it was worth the wait!)

*

Long before the war, before Captain America or the Winter Soldier, there was simply Bucky and Steve. At least, that's what history says. But they missed out one very important person, a girl called Y/N.

Women in those times often found themselves with little opportunity, and only two easily attainable pathways in life: wife and mother. But Y/N carved out a life for herself that defied all expectations, and it all started in Brooklyn.

She dived headlong into scuffles, usually next to Bucky in defence of Steve. Regardless of the opponent, Y/N stood by them both, and often held her own quite impressively.

Her dress style borrowed from more masculine cuts, and Y/N was never seen without her cap. A lot of people had a problem with this, but she shut them up fairly swiftly.

Everything about this girl drew Bucky in, a battle he fought with little effort. They reveled in each other, flaunting their love at every opportunity. More than a few were jealous that the rough and tumble girl got the best looking boy in town. 

In a way, before even coming of age, they started an adult life together. The three of them moved into a flat. Y/N and Bucky took hard labour jobs, or anything they could get. They had little room to be picky. 

Both managed to hook steady summer jobs at the local docks. They used most of their money to keep a roof over their heads, buy food, and pay for Steve's medical needs. He attended art school, and sold his work every now and then; but physically, he was in no condition to work.

The war appeared on the horizon, just as they started to pull themselves an inch above the poverty line. Y/N saw it coming, the inevitable. She treasured every second they spent together, and dreaded the day when the draft came.

A lot of the older women she worked with were disrespectful, looking down on her pre-marital relationship with Bucky. They claimed she couldn't possibly understand their grief, despite the fact Y/N had seen Bucky off at the docks that very morning. 

In truth, they already planned on being married, but at the time, they simply didn't have the funds. Bucky promised, once the war ended, that ring would be on her finger.

Except, he never came home. Not properly. The person Hydra gave back to Y/N was damaged and jaded, angry at the world, angrier than she ever saw. But still, they loved each other. Though she never forgave them for stealing away his innocence, for trying to snuff out the light in his soul. A part of him would always belong to them, and she hated it.

Refusing to stay home while they risked their lives, never knowing, Y/N trained as an army nurse, working specially with the Howling Commandos unit.

Then one day, she went out to welcome them back from a mission. Every face looked devastated, but none more so than Steve. His eyes, red-raw and streaming, seemed incapable of rising from the ground. At first, the realisation didn't process, the idea simply incomprehensible. He promised.

Dugan was the one to finally break through and catch Y/N as she fell, holding her as the tears poured. Once he shook off his daze, Steve took his place, sharing in her grief.

Her world fell apart so quickly, with no warning and no mercy. Their commanders celebrated the capture of Arnim Zola, while Y/N and Steve sat, staring at an empty place at their side.

Everyone mourned Bucky, and swiftly after, began to mourn Y/N, too. The loss took a part of her...the sparkle, the happiness, the laugh that lit up her face. It all vanished. She worked hard, looked after them all, but only Steve was able to make her smile. Even then, it looked pained.

So when Steve went down with the plane, the very last shred of Y/N died with him. No tears left her eyes, no screams ripped up her throat. A cold numbness took over, freezing the woman from the inside out. 

V-Day came and went. The Commandos stood and drank to their lost comrades, and Dugan silently drank another...for the loss of a bright, fiery girl who had virtually nothing to lose, and still lost everything.

She spent her days as a robot, doing nothing but going through the motions of badly imitating life. The flat was empty and quiet, yet somehow, bursting with the ghosts of her loved ones. Nightmares plagued her, terrible images of Bucky's body, forever trapped in a freezing hell, nothing but food for the birds. And Steve, his body...was it cast adrift in the ocean? Or destroyed, burnt to ash in the belly of a metal beast. 

They were simple folk before the war turned them into soldiers, into weapons. Before symbols and flags stole away their names, driving them to sacrifice their lives for a greater cause.

Y/N knew their fight against Hydra was important...knew the honour behind their sacrifice. But when it's you left sitting at an empty dinner table, it's much easier to be angry and bitter.

She never married, never settled, bouncing around countries working as an army nurse. The Commandos slowly died around her, each one fading to grey as the curtain drew the show to a close. Each death, each funeral ripped open her wounds, bigger and deeper each time. Until eventually, Y/N let the blood flow freely.

Or at least, that's what would have happened. But one choice, one decision, made by a boy she thought dead in the far future, changed it all.

*

Bucky Barnes struggled to find himself again. His memories were mostly all returned, if a bit hazy and fragmented. He had Steve there to right any wrong recollections, and connect with on their shared experiences. But something always seemed to be missing, a piece of the jigsaw that hadn't been found.

He remembered Y/N. He remembered her clearer than anything. She was glowing like honey in the sun when Bucky closed his eyes and brought her back to mind.

Face covered in muck, hair tousled and streaked with grease from the boats, soot on the very tip of her nose and a cap perched jauntily on her head; wearing the deepest expression of concentration as she aimed a hanful of rotten fish guts at the sleezy Connell boy from Fifth, who decided his opinion on her backside mattered. The image shone crystal clear. Her laughter, rolling out from between curved lips, beautiful and full of mischief. 

It never failed to make him smile. Or cry. Or sometimes, both. He missed Y/N than he thought possible for a human being. 

Bucky often wondered about her life, whether she went on to marry, or maybe even have children. Was she happy? Did she bury him and move on? If they met today, would Y/N even recognise the man he was now? 

More importantly, in his mind, something he both feared and longed to know: would she still love him?

Unbeknownst to Bucky, Steve saw all this. Understood, to a degree, his pain. But he and Peggy never got the chance to bond so strongly. He knew Bucky needed him, but Steve also knew he needed Y/N more.

So once his goodbyes were said, he looked one last time at Bucky, and smiled beneath his suit as he vanished into time.

*

The living room looked exactly the same as he remembered. Bucky's coat, slung over the back of the chair, his sketchbooks strewn around the desk. Every rip and chip. His heart swelled with nostalgia, and pain, thinking of the life they were supposed to have.

What must have been in their heads...running off to fight, so eager to throw everything away. And who was left to stare at empty beds and eat breakfast alone every morning? Y/N.

His chest constricted, hearing the keys in the door, the lock rattling three times before letting her in. His nerve faltered for the briefest second, wondering if he was ready to see her again.

"Who the hell are you?!"

Time's up.

Slowly, he turned, and watched as Y/N's eyes widened, all the bags in her hands falling to the floor with a crash.

"...Stevie?" The name came out as a whisper, nearly inaudible.

He grinned, laughing as tears stung his eyes. "Hey, spitfire. Long time no see."

"Steve!" She launched herself at him, arms wrapping around his neck and clinging on for dear life. 

Catching her by the waist, he swung Y/N around, burying his face in her hair. They held onto one another as if they might vanish if they let go. But after a minute, Steve gently pushed her back.

"How? How are you here? What are you wearing? I don't understand, Steve, they said you died! Your plane went down in the ocean," she stammered, hand on his forearm with a grip like a vice.

"I survived. The serum kept me alive in the ice for seventy years," he said, questioning his own sanity momentarily; standing in the flat again made everything that happened seem like a distant dream.

Y/N frowned, brows knitting together. "What? Did you hit your head? Steve, this is 1945."

"I know, I came from 2023. I'm alive," he said, and saw her mentally backing away, so added, "I'm alive, and so is Bucky."

Her head snapped up, eyes immediately filling with tears. A dozen emotions whizzed through them in a second; disbelief, pain, hope. It shone clearly in her face as she stepped closer.

What did you say?" She asked, voice choked as she brought her shaking hands up to her mouth.

"Bucky's alive," he repeated softly, "and I can send you to him, in the future. But we don't have a lot of time. You need to listen to me, carefully, and do what I say."

She spluttered, struggling for words. "I, but...what about you?"

"I've made my decision," Steve said, and gently took her hands in his, "now, please, listen."

*

Bucky watched the machine, feeling a wave of numbness wash over his insides. Nothing was a better deal than the pain, the cruel sting of betrayal fighting to be felt. But he beat it back, unable to allow those thoughts validation.

Steve gave up so much for him, he fought for years to get him here. Steve deserved this. And no matter how wrong those words sounded in his head, he resolutely stood by them. 

The seconds ticked by, noted by Bruce's countdown. A flash of guilt almost made Bucky explain what was going to happen, explain that Steve left them. Left him. But he possessed no energy to speak, they'd see in a second, when no one appeared-

Zap. A blinding flash of light.

There's someone there.

Bucky frowned, hands falling from his pockets. Did Steve change his mind? Did he...

All the thoughts in his head stopped as the figure stepped down. Too small, too lithe for it to be Steve. Bucky's heart rate quickened, something in his unconscious already registering his recognition. 

The suit fell away, and if he weren't frozen in place, Bucky wouldn't have been standing. A quiver shot through him, nearly buckling his knees. Shock, fear and pure disbelief all delayed his reaction.

Y/N looked around, amazed, but turned to stone as she set eyes on him. Her face went utterly blank, a strangled sound leaving her lips.

Wearing her yard slacks, with a small bag on her shoulder, her face covered in dirt, hair streaked with grease, cap perched on-top, slanted to one side...she was everything he remembered, and his heart tried to leave his chest to go to her. To be whole again.

But fear held him back. She didn't know the things he'd done, the person he became after the train accident. What if-

"Who is she?" Sam asked, glaring as he stalked towards her, an accusation rising on his lips.

Bucky answered without hesitation, or thinking; the question had been asked countless times over the years. It always recieved the same reply. "My doll."

Sam stopped short, glancing between them, the way neither took their eyes off the other. He nodded, brows still closely knit, and backed off.

Slowly, Y/N approached, encouraged by the sound of his voice. She reached out carefully, when she got close enough. Trembling fingers brushed his cheek, and a shudder ran through her. 

"My Bucky..." She said quietly, eyes roaming over his face, a small smile tugging at her lips, "...you're here, in front of me. Alive."

He swallowed dryly, heart thundering away beneath his skin. "I'm different...you don't know..."

No sooner had the words left his mouth that her eyes found the cold metal where his flesh used to be. In reaching to hold it, she'd been taken by surprise.

Gently, Y/N took the hand in her own, examing the limb with a careful gaze. Moments passed, and she met his eyes again. Bucky steeled himself for rejection, for the disgust and horror.

Her hand went back to his cheek, and he involuntairly leaned into it. The warmth seeped into his blood. She stood on her tip toes, the smile on her lips blossoming into a bright beam of sunlight. "You've always been my Bucky, and always will be. Metal appendages and all."

He fell apart and dove down to capture her lips, clutching her to him with the hunger of a starving man. She pulled herself in, hands tangling in his brown locks, and both tasted salt on the others' lips.

So filled with joy his heart could burst, Bucky revelled in the feeling of holding his girl again. Laughing through the tears, he buried his face in her neck.

Thank you, Steve, for the greatest gift of all.

[manyfictionsmusings]

Pull Me Like A Ripcord

Summary:

This story takes place immediately after the events of X-Men Apocalypse, where Peter decides against going back to Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters, despite seeking his father’s attention prior. This fic will just be growing and “mutating” as I write but promising lots of Dad/son angst, hurt/comfort etc.

Chapter 1: AfterEffects

As naïve as it was, Peter had hoped Erik would somehow realize he was his son, now that idea seemed cold and stupid. Why would Erik magically know who he was? He wasn’t Charles, a mind reader, and this wasn’t a fantasy kingdom where the orphan got his father in the end of the story.

Peter pulled his legs up to his chest, or at least he would have if he could have moved his shattered knee, the pain, coupled with the emotional turmoil of the long day sent him easily to tears. He wasn’t used to losing, he wasn’t used to being physically injured. The finale of the Egyptian battle had seen the x-men triumph, but Peter himself had lost…lost another chance to connect with Erik, if only he’d been able to get the better of the Immortal it might have impressed his father enough to take note of him, but instead if it hadn’t been for Raven’s distractions, the Beast’s strength and his own father’s shift in loyalties, he would have been just another victim in the note book of Apocalypse.

Peter drew a shaky breath, trying to force the events to wash over him, normally things didn’t bother him, but the last few months he’d changed, the others here at the school, or what was left of the school…he didn’t want to call them family but that’s what they felt like to him. It scared him and it was too much to hope for, he’d been disappointed to many times to open up like that. Which was why he’d told Beast to take him to a regular hospital in Cairo and he’d make his own way home once he was healed.

Beast had had his reservations about it, leaving the scrawny, pale kid who’d been with them since he’d saved literally everyone at Xavier’s school for gifted youngsters seemed a shitty way to repay him, but he’d finally consented to it, only after Peter had gotten angry and started yelling.

He felt lonely now, in the hospital bed, with an oxygen tube in his nose and his injured leg casted and hoisted by a sling, a thousand miles from anyone he knew, but the pain was reminding him of his failures as one of the x-men and the isolation served to remind him why he didn’t bother with people, especially his father.

They always left. Or were never there to begin with.

He deserved this.

“You don’t deserve any of this, Peter.”

Peter jolted, startled for only a second by the gentle voice, there was only one person it could be, to know what precisely he was thinking. He hurriedly wiped tears off his face before Charles came any closer.

“I told Beast I was fine. I don’t want anyone wasting any more time on me.”

“Beast didn’t tell your secret, but I was worried about you, Peter. You think I was going to just leave Egypt without you? I wouldn’t leave here without any of you.” Charles stepped closer, softly he took his hand and squeezed gently.  “You all mean so much to me. I owe you my life, Peter.”

He removed his hand and crossed his arms. “I didn’t do anything, if…if Erik hadn’t stepped in, we all would have been killed-including you.”

Charles glanced towards the monitors attached to the young man, before his eyes roamed across the physical state of Peter, in contemplation. “It was a group effort; it took all of us.” He finally spoke after a moment of hesitation. “I know you seek his attention and yet you’re afraid of it…Lehnsherr is coming back with us to New York, he’s going to help me rebuild the institution.”

Peter glanced up, his eyes reflecting a youthful hope the professor hadn’t seen for some time. “I thought he left.”

Charles shook his head. “It’s a way to…perhaps earn his attention, little by little anyway. What do you think? Will you return with me?”

Peter grimaced. “I’m not in great shape professor, encase you haven’t noticed. I might swing in when I’m up and around.”

Charles raised an eyebrow. “I know all your pains, I’m sorry. I put your life in such horrific danger-”

“I came along on the mission of my own free will, no one forced me,” Peter interrupted.

Charles gripped his shoulder suddenly with an assertive intention. “Let me oversee your recovery, Maximoff, please, it’s the least I can do. I won’t leave here until you agree to be transferred to a hospital in New York, preferably close to Salem Center. You don’t have to be bothered by anyone from the school. But knowing you aren’t in Egypt would put my mind at ease.”

Peter sighed, he was feeling it again, the warm sensation that made him relaxed and somehow extremely uncomfortable at the same time. Family was something he would never be able to hold on to. He was going to mess it up, he knew that. He could already feel the threads slipping between pale, desperate, grasping fingers. But in the meantime, Charles cared about him enough to hunt him down in one of many Cairo hospitals, and he’d checked in under an alias. The professor cared enough to come back, or had he never left in the first place? His caring nature was beyond consolation to Peter’s broken, cold body, so comforting in fact he felt tears welling up again!

He sniffled and hurriedly wiped his brow before their return, nodding. “I’ll come with you.”

Professor Xavier had kept his word, medically and financially he’d arranged for everything to be taken care of, transporting Peter from Cairo to New York. He’d also arranged for him to have his own private room in Sheeran Hospital—a private hospital in upstate New York, forty-five miles from the current disaster of Xavier’s school for gifted youngsters.

Over the next two weeks physically Peter’s injuries slowly healed but mentally he felt wrecked beyond compare. He started having reoccurring nightmares that he couldn’t run; his ability had been fractured when the monstrosity had snapped his leg like a twig under his boot. In the dream he was trying to run away from someone, his first thought was that it was Apocalypse but a couple nights later he realized it was just a shadowy figure, one he could never outrun. Each time he fell, immobilized as pain shot through his leg, the sound of his own bones crunching reverberated in his ears, just as it had that day.

The nurses had unfortunately taken note of his mood, though Peter hadn’t put much effort into hiding his grim attitude, he’d slipped in a snarky remark about getting some extra drugs for an overdose. The nurse didn’t find his dark humor amusing and Charles suspiciously showed up the very next day.

He didn’t say much at first, just sat near Peter’s bed, looking out the enormous rectangle window that looked west, on a glowing sunset. “You have a good view though,” he finally spoke.

Peter pursed his lips. “I do appreciate your hospitality Professor, but I’m fine, you don’t have to check in on me. Just... really bored here you know, I don’t think I’ve ever stayed in one place this long…it’s wearing on me, I feel weird being at this speed.”

Charles turned his chair to face him, hands in his pockets, yet concern on his features. “Must be very uncomfortable to be forced to slow down. How’s physical therapy going?”

Peter avoided the older man’s gaze for some reason and snorted. “I mean it’s slow, I’m not the patience type or a patient for that matter…”

Charles nodded. “But the sooner you’re hobbling around, the sooner I can get you out of here.”

“And take me where?” Maximoff snipped with his signature deep-set frown.

Charles chuckled, “You’d be surprised what several telekinetic mutants can accomplish when it comes to construction. The east wing is already rebuilt, for now we’re using it for sleeping quarters. It’s a little crowded but…”

“…Anything is better than the smell of hospital?” Peter finished, trying to keep his mind in constant motion—moving from thought to thought. He didn’t know how much the professor knew about what he was thinking but Xavier had already noted his inward conception about seeking Erik’s attention in Egypt, so his guess was he was an open book, but Peter’s thoughts could be about as fast as his movement when we wanted them to be. “Well sounds like I need to hit therapy harder, if you’re actually going to get me out of here.”

As much as Peter didn’t intend to be shambling around a cramped wing in the school, Charles’ visit served to kick him in the butt about getting out of Sheeran soon, regardless of where he went afterward. And if he was being honest, he had never planned to go back to the school, though he also wasn’t ready to face his reasoning for not returning there.

No one was going to miss him, well not the one person that mattered, because he couldn’t even see Peter for who he was. A new plan had quickly formulated—get his leg in good enough shape to slip off before Charles came back for him and circumvent the entire situation altogether.

The nightmares continued to plague him, as day after day he added a little weight to the tender broken leg, between tears and a lump that had formed on his lip from how many times he had bit it to deal with the pain, he started making it all the way through the routes the therapist had set up for him. Once he realized he could make it to the end of the routine he had to mentally stop himself from trying out his true speed. He continually checked himself, forced himself to be normal, move slowly. He embraced the pain wholly, promising himself a whole box of Lemonheads when he got out of here.

A week and two days after Charles’ visit, Peter decided he was going. He’d woke up from his worst nightmare by far, clutching his throat, covered in sweat, his heart was beating hard enough his chest ached. His leg was throbbing with shadow pain from Apocalypse breaking it, only in this dream he hadn’t been saved before the giant mutant had slit his throat and tossed him aside like trash. His father hadn’t even noticed or cared.

Peter swallowed painfully, still tracing his fingers across the smooth, blanched flesh of his neck as he slipped out of bed. His x-men costume had been lost somewhere in the shuffle, or maybe the professor had taken it, either way Charles had been kind enough to replace it with his current pajamas and a change of clothing. Not the usual silver tinted clothing but considering he still wasn’t up to his Quicksilver speed, it seemed fitting to pull on the dark blue jeans and faded orange hoodie. Peter sighed in comfort at the velvety worn state of both items as they contacted his skin, though he tried to ignore how billowy the clothes were on him, he’d lost a significant amount of weight since Egypt—which the nurses had been lecturing him over—but what could you expect when there was only hospital food and no snacks to be seen.

Next Peter attempted to calm his silvery hair, by brushing his fingers through it repeatedly, which only seemed to make it worse. Between the wild shock of hair and the dark rimmed eyes, his reflection looked ghostly, coupled with the dim hospital lighting.

Peter exhaled calmly before grabbing the only items that had made it back with him from Egypt, his googles and his earphones, he stuck one of the foreign crutches under each armpit and silently slipped out of Sheeran Hospital…

[akistans]

✰yandere txt.

Authors note: i kinda like the whole Yandere txt archetype, so I apologize in advance to anyone who stumbles across this and gets uncomfortable so ill tag it right.

Warnings: Language, yandere themes(click on yandere if u dont know what it means), obsessive/possessive behavior, violence, physical/mental abuse, crazy ass bois, sexual themes on the choi line.

And also another thing, this doesn’t represent txt in any way and is pure fiction from my crazy mind🤠

I also don’t support abusive relationships, please seek help if you or a loved one are in that situation.

✰Choi Yeonjun.

The beauty is the beast.

Yeonjun likes pretty things.

And you happen to be the prettiest thing he’s ever layed eyes on. So it didn’t take long for him to become entranced. You never met him personally but you know he’s the university heartthrob, so it was a surprise when he asked you out on a date out of the blue. You said yes because “what could go wrong?”

He was so nice, sweet and caring, you honestly were falling for him...until he insisted you come back to his house. That’s where you drew the line, you assumed that this date was a ploy to get in your pants so you wanted to end the conversation and became easily annoyed.

But What you didn’t know though was that was the last day you would ever see the world. Yeonjun was a step ahead of you and kidnapped you. No matter how much you tried getting out of his grip, he was too strong.

“Heh, all you had to do was say yes and this wouldn’t have happened. Y/n i thought you were going to be a good girl for me, but i guess your just a brat who needs their master to discipline them, hm?”

Say goodbye to ur humanity✌️

✰Choi Soobin.

When curiosity becomes obsession

Soobin had always been bullied in school and you were the only one to show him any type of compassion. Although you were very popular in school, you never resorted to bullying or harassing others like your friends.

Soobin grew curious about you, his curiosity soon became obession. You started noticing a strange aura around you, as if you were being watched.You would hear the snap of camera from time to time. And when you turned around to see whos there, no one would be present.

You started to notice this at home, you feared undressing and taking showers until your mother got angry at you. You closed every window and curtain in your house and yet you still could feel those chilling eyes on you. Not to mention, some of your underwear had gone missing. Eventually, you stopped leaving home all together, which to your dismay, still felt strange.

You were becoming paranoid, and others saw this as well. Your family looked ks at you as a freak, your once friends bully you, and no one even looks your way. Except for one person. It took some courage, but Soobin finally decided to ask you out. And when you said yes he was surprised, you were so broken you didn’t care.

“R-really? Y/n i love you so much...” he pulls you in for a hug. “I promise i’m not like everyone else, i’ll love you no matter what. All we need is each other, my sweet Y/n.” That was the day when the stalking stopped, and when you gave your life to the hand of Choi soobin.

✰Huening Kai.

Innocent eyes masks a playful sadist.

Kai being the new transfer student really had everyone whipped for him. Many admired him, many hated him, Some wanted to be him. But you, you just didn’t care. He was cute, sure, but you were focused on your studies, besides he was too young for you anyways.

Kai felt intrigued, he’d never met somene like you who could resist his charms. That was the first. So he decided to play a game, he befriended you, and gained your trust, which you blindly gave away. He was so innocent that you couldn’t just be flat out rude to him.

He decided to take his game to the next level by asking you out on a date, but you rejected him...not part of the plan. He cornered you in the hallway, no more innocent ningning for you.

“You think you can just reject me like that? Baby, people want to be with me, not the other way around. You’re so cute when your trembling, are you scared? Good, now be a good girl and hold hands with your boyfriend.”

✰Choi Beomgyu.

Hide your true feelings.

Beomgyu absolutely hated you, he hated that you made him feel this way. So he bullied you, tore down every wall you had. He liked you better in this state, submissive and at his mercy. With a snap of his fingers you would come running to his side like a puppy.

He made sure to humiliate you so no one would look your way, he’d sit you on his lap or use you as a footrest. And if anyone did, then kyu would beat them up and make you watch. He had no remorse for you whatsoever, and there was no one who could help you, not even your family. And if you ever back talked then expect the same punishment, a punch to the face.

But one day you had enough, Kyu had slapped you infront of everyone and you couldn’t help but cry on the floor. Your sobs could be heard from the whole entire cafeteria. For once, he actually felt bad for you. He picked you up bridal style and carried you outside, though this was the rarest sight you ever seen, i hope you didn’t expect him to show you that side.

“Tsk. Could you be any more pathetic? Stupid people like you are always so dependent, you can’t even function right. But don’t worry baby, I’ll make sure your in good hands.”

✰Kang Taehyun.

My one and only.

You two have been crushing hella hard on each other for a while, so when he asked you out, you had to blink twice just in case you were dreaming. Your crush, Kang Taehyun asked you?

At first, the relationship was fine, Taehyun was a very loving boyfriend, and he was so nice to you, he would always bring you flowers and other gifts, he was always so protective over you, perhaps too protective.

You were just chatting with a male friend, and he up and punched the huy to the ground and kept beating on him. You tried your best to pull him off of your bloodied friend. But he wouldn’t let off. You were sobbing Taehyuns name for him to let your friend go.

“See what you did jackass? Not only are you dirtying my hand but you’re also making my girl cry! What filth! Don’t worry Y/n! No one like this will ever bother you again!” And with those words, you were never seen again.

✰authors note: So yeah, this is like my second time writing yandere type stuff, so let me know how you guys like it.

[problematic-faves-appreciation]

Problematic Faves Cliffs Notes: Harvey Dent/Two-Face

Batman (1980) #329

Summary: Once a crusading district attorney that worked alongside Batman and Jim Gordon to fight crime – now the duality-obsessed super criminal known as Two-Face.

Harvey Dent also serves as a dark reflection of Batman's own struggles living a dual life with conflicting identities.

Main Goal: To enact his own justice whilst committing crimes.

Fears: Uncertainty, himself in general [the things he's capable of, specifically], losing control, his loved ones dying, his darker half discovering Bruce's secret identity [Detective Comics (2016) #1021], Renee Montoya's rejection [Batman: No Man's Land, novel], and the Joker [Joker (2008), only].

Mindset: Sees himself bound by fate and its will. As a result of Harvey's black-and-white worldviews, he considers his two-headed (scarred on one side) silver dollar a truly objective instrument of justice due to it only yielding two simple, 50/50 outcomes at the end of every coin toss.

"Some people go to the beach to forget their problems. They can watch the waves for hours. I understand the fascination.

There's a pattern – then there is no pattern.

It's the same with the coin. We want it all to mean something – we want to find the pattern – but in the final analysis, it's just waves."

— Harvey Dent, Secret Origins Special (1989) #1

•••

"He was always interested in the law – some might say obsessed. Man's law gave order to Harvey's world – they delineated the parameters of right and wrong, good and evil. They gave him something to believe in."

— Gilda Dent, Secret Origins Special (1989) #1

•••

Hugo Strange: Let's go back further, you were a rising star, a beacon of light for this city. A white knight riding in to save it with the Dark Knight not far behind.

Harvey Dent: You can leave him out of this. He is wrong. They all are. No one understands the beauty of fate's hand. I am grateful to Falcone. He gave me a clarity; a purity that few will know. Everything boils down to a simple choice, this way or that way, good... or bad.

Hugo Strange: Do you really believe that?

Harvey Dent: How could I not?

— Batman: Arkham City

•••

Batman: If you pull the trigger, how are you different from the Roman?

Harvey Dent: That's Jim Gordon talking. You know the system doesn't work. That justice can be decided like the flip of a coin.

— The Long Halloween

•••

"You thought we could be decent men in an indecent time... but you were wrong! The world is cruel. And the only morality in a cruel world is chance. Unbiased, unprejudiced, fair."

— Harvey Dent, The Dark Knight

•••

"Life's a lottery, Holman. It's chance that decides who lives and who dies. Who gets cancer. Which kid is born with spina bifida. Who gets run over by a truck.

This [the coin] is what decides whether or not I blow your wife's brains out."

— Harvey Dent, Joker's Asylum: Two-Face #1 

Teen Titans Spotlight (1987) #13

Character Traits:

🌗 Loving • Idealistic • Genuine • Principled • Resolute • Focused • Driven • Workaholic • Passionate • Eloquent • Wrathful • Obssessed • Brooding • Self-loathing • Black-and-white thinking • Dauntless • Fair • Honest (generally) • Man of his word • Learned helplessness (regarding the coin and his choices) • Self-destructive • Unpredictable • Hair-trigger temper • Can be persuaded • Charitable (depends on coin toss) • Takes his pain out on others • Self-enabling • Serious • Harsh • Intimidating • Vengeful • Physically violent • Self-aware • Conflicted • Feels remorse • Tries, but fails to improve as a person • Too Dependent on his coin • Fatalistic • Suicidal • Forgiving • Self-centered, but not selfish 🌗

Key Facts:

Harvey Dent...

• Had mental health issues long before his disfigurement [Batman Annual (1990 #14, Batman: The Animated Series - Episode 10, and Batman: Arkham City].

• His father physically abused him every day as a child. Christopher Dent used a double-headed coin to make Harvey believe he could "avoid" the beatings if the coin landed on the non-existent "tails" [Batman Annual #14].

• Bruce Wayne was his childhood friend [Rebirth universe & Batman: Nightwalker].

• Harvey "Legal Eagle" Dent was the top of his class [Secret Origins Special (1989) #1].

• Paid for his father's nice apartment [Batman: Two-Face (1995) - Crime & Punishment].

• Half of Harvey wanted to love his father, while the other half wished him dead. Despite everything, he tried to make peace with Christopher prior to the acid attack [Batman Annual #14].

• Never stopped loving/thinking about Gilda Dent when she disappeared from his life following the events of the Long Halloween [Batman (2006) #653 & Batman (2011) #712].

What's more, Harvey continued loving Gilda so much that he wound up murdering her second husband's killer in a pre-Long-Halloween continuity [Batman (1980) #329] because the man's death left Gilda grieving.

• Fun fact: The Power of Love helped him resist Poison Ivy's pheromones in the Dark Victory #11!

Begone, thot!

• Blamed Batman for what happened to him with Salvatore Maroni Carmine Falcone and the acid attack that scarred his face [Batman: Arkham Knight].

• Uses his coin to determine whether he should kill or spare his victims. Also, he has been known to perform acts of charity [Detective Comics (1942) #66 & Batman: The Silver Age Newspaper Comics Volume 3 (1969-1972)] sometimes.

• Loves and hates Gotham [Batman and Robin (2013) #23.1].

• Dislikes hypocrites [Batman: Two-Face (1995) - Crime and Punishment & The Spectre (2001) #5].

• Developed strong feelings for Renee Montoya in the Batman: No Man's Land storyline.

• Continued caring about Renee deeply, despite the events of Gotham Central (2003) #10 [Convergence: The Question #1-2].

Received training from Batman [Batman #653] and Deathstroke [Deathstroke (2018) #38].

• Has tried growing better as a person, but he keeps failing [Batman Annual #14 & Batman and Robin Adventures (1995) #1-2].

• Has re-scarred himself more than once [Batman Annual #14, Batman #653, and Batman: Black and White (1996) #1].

• For all his faults and crimes – such as nearly beating Dick Grayson to death in Robin: Year One – he has helped people [The Batman Chronicles (1999) #16], defended Jim Gordon from himself as Jim's defense lawyer [Detective Comics (1999) #739], cares about the women in his life, and keeps his word when the coin comes up good.

He is a complex character, period.

Other Facts:

• Has seen Cocteau's "Beauty and the Beast" [Batman (1986) #397].

• Knows how to sculpt [Detective Comics (1986) #563].

• Owns a "thememobile" like Batman [Batman (1987) #410]!

• Likes baseball [Batman (1987) #411].

• Likes symmetry [Batman (1989) #442].

Smokes, but also doesn't [Batman (1994) #513].

"My own version of the literary reference mark known as a diesis – more commonly known as a double-dagger! My next pair shall strike to the heart of the matter!" — Harvey Dent, Batman: Two-Face Strikes Twice #1 – the words of a man who certainly reads a lot!

Batman Annual #14 & Teen Titans Spotlight #13 – A himbo he is not!

• Reads classic books such as "Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde" [Detective Comics #66] and "A Tale of Two Cities" [Batman: Two-Face Strikes Twice #2].

• Still finds putting criminals behind bars fun [Batman Gotham Adventures (1999) #12].

• Can speak Spanish [The Batman Chronicles #16].

• Doesn't mind hitting women at all. There are so many examples of this; Harvey confirmed it himself [Batman: Streets of Gotham (2009) #7], and beat up Jim Gordon's wife in Batman (1999) #572.

• Made a self-insert comic book in an art therapy program. Yup, he wrote and drew it himself [Detective Comics (2001) #753]!

Called it "The Adventures of Copernicus Dent and His Best Girl and Plucky Assistant R'Nee!" 

• Plays chess with Batman [Gotham Knights (2002) #32].

• Has watched Star Trek [Nightwing (2008) #150].

• Fought and killed a werewolf [The 2008 DC Universe Halloween Special]. Yes, really.

• Was a cult leader [Detective Comics (2020) #1020].

• Rebirth!Harvey is now working as a jailhouse lawyer in Blackgate [Detective Comics (2020) #1024].

• Understands how binary code works, but computer geeks make him sick? [Robin (1994) #11] Yeah.

• Has kids. Twins! [Batman: Two-Faces Strikes Twice]. It looks like they're irrelevant.

• Remembered Renee's birthday and sent her tulips [Detective Comics (2000) #747].

• Has been a judge before [The New Batman Adventures - Episode 24 & Arkham Unhinged (2013) #11].

• Hates odd-numbers [Robin: Year One #2].