#and the fact one time my dad almost died and someone standing close to him Did die so. haha. traumatized from that.

[astrxealis]

dear gods i adore horror tbh but i am way too sensitive to it

[love-anddeepression]

Feel free to ignore this, but I saw you want Miguel requests soooo.

Platonic Miguel x teen spider reader. Preferably gn. And like, he sees his daughter in the reader or smth, idk how to explain it, but I think it would be cute to see it

ONGOSH THANK YOU I absolutely love this<33 I wrote this on my phone but Im honestly so hyped up I love father figure!miguel. I hope you don’t mind but I’m doing this in the form of headcanons.

Miguel O’Hara x teen!spider!Reader

-okay so your obviously one of the only people Miguel loves tolerates.

-your universe isn’t “home” to you, Miguel is. He’s like the father you never had and at first, the both of you absolutely detested one and other. In fact, Jessica was the one who convinced him to recruit you, way before Gwen or even Peter came into the picture.

-at first, he was stand-offish and a total dickhead to you, but slowly warmed up and began to humour you. He’d smirk at your horrible jokes and pretend to roll his eyes when you teased him.

-in fact, when you first laughed your ass off at one of his remarks, something in him knew that he’d do anything to protect you.

-he already lost one daughter, he wasn’t losing you.

-In all honesty, your relationship is very similar to Joel and Ellie from the Last of Us.

-you have inside jokes that even Lyla doesn’t understand, and she’s an AI.

-It takes all his strength to not snort when you make faces behind someone’s back, he knows you do it to make him laugh.

-he gives you tips on how to take care of yourself.

-a whole bottle of baby powder suddenly appears in your room in spider society. He says he knows nothing.

-lyla shows you the camera footage of him placing it on your bedside table.

-he’s close to tears when you specially make him empanadas. He’d been in a bad mood and when he went to his desk, there was a plate of empanadas with a post it note from you.

- “dont waste them I spent like two hoursmaking them for you”

-he scarfs them down of course.

-like all fathers, he can be strict sometimes, especially because you’re a kid. He doesn’t want you getting hurt. If you’re hurt he helps patch you up himself.

-“you fucking crazy? What were you thinking, trying to catch a car instead of dodging it?”

-your arguments are shushed by him shoving a spoon of soup into your mouth.

-“don’t waste it.” He says, “I spent some time making it while you were asleep.”

-he can’t pinpoint an exact moment from when he started seeing you as his daughter, but it’s probably from the time he got super protective around hobie.

-ain’t no kid coming near his daughter.

-almost snarls when hobie jokingly flirts with you.

-he subtly pushes hobie away when the guy walks behind you.

-you’re the only person other than lyla who can snark him and get away with it without an insult being jabbed at you.

-he’s hugged you a total of two times.

-the first was when you almost died, the second was when he almost died and you freaked out.

-you’d already lost your family, you could not lose him too.

“Miguel, get up.” You tearfully say to his sleeping form, “I can’t do this without you.”

-when he’d stirred, the first thing he saw was your shocked face and then you tackled him.

-he loves you. Like, a whole lot.

-he smiles at you when you walk around in his office, rambling about random stuff. He’s glad that you’re comfortable enough around him to stop masking your personality.

-his jokes are LAME. Like dad jokes are his jam and they’re just so bad.

-“why do sharks live in salt water? because pepper water makes them sneeze.” “Miguel PLEASE-”

-did I mention he’d probably die for you? Like fuck the universe(s) he’s not losing his baby daughter again.

-OOO IMAGINE THE BOTH OF YOU AS DRACULA AND MAVIS

-it’s weird but it’s funny.

-Gwen loses her shit when she sees you sitting next to him with your head on his shoulder.

[spacebarbarianweird]

Lost and Found

Synopsis: Astarion dissapears, and Tiriel goes looking for him.

Tags: dadstarion, dhampirs, hurt/comfort

Alethaine's age: 6 years old

Thanks @themadlu for beta-reading!

Read on AO3

Masterlist

Headcanons This one is more Tiriel x Astarion centered but Alethaine has her role, too

Astarion can’t move - his regeneration doesn’t catch up with the damage he received. His ribs are broken and so are his hands. There is nothing left of his renowned vampiric strengths - he is helpless in front of those warriors.

Kill the vampire. Kill the vampire. Kill the vampire.

He feels  dawn is close. His body stirs, and a wave of panic floods his mind. The sun will kill him. The sun will burn him.

Astarion tries to stand up but a strong blow knocks him down.

The first rays of the sun cut him like blades.

The last coherent thought comes to his mind.

Tiriel was right. He should have listened to his wife.

**

Tiriel is worried sick.

Astarion left a month ago with those men from Tunland - promising it would take only a dozen days and she wouldn't be stuck home with their daughter all alone.

But it’s been four weeks and he still hasn’t returned.

Alethaine sits on the ceiling with a book. Her adorable little face looks so serious that Tiriel can’t resist smiling every time she glances at her daughter. 

Like every elven child Tiriel has seen, Alethaine looks a bit like a perfect doll - a bit smaller than human children, with soft silver hair, and pointy ears that twitch, reacting to sounds. The quarter of human ancestry doesn’t manifest at all in her. She could pass for a high elf if it wasn’t for her vampire fangs, skin too pale for a living girl, and the fact she barely breathes. Sometimes Tiriel can’t resist  waking Alethaine up just to make sure she hasn’t died in her sleep. Just motherly anxiety, besides, nothing could have prepared Tiriel to be the mother of a dhampir.

Well, what did she expect, taking a vampire as a husband - but she had no idea dhampirs were anything but a myth.

“Mum.”

“What is it, Kitten?”

“When will Dad come back?”

“I don’t know”, Tiriel says.

The six-year-old flips the page. Tiriel notices elven letters, Espruar. Meanwhile, she is barely capable of reading a page in Common without having a headache, Alethaine easily reads books in both of her mother tongues. 

She is smart, her daughter. Just like Astarion.

Who disappeared without a trace.

It’s not like him. Of course, dealing with pacts and contracts isn't a fast job. It often takes Astarion days just to understand what exactly happened between his client and whatever force they’ve decided to sign papers with (because no one wants to admit to their mistakes). 

But Astarion doesn’t like to be away for too long. Tiriel knows it too well. They have been together for twenty-six years but what is it in comparison with two centuries of slavery, considering his previous life is completely erased from his memories? Astarion still has nightmares, he is still haunted. He needs her as much as she needs him. 

He would have come back already - to her, to their daughter, to their home. 

Tiriel is sure something bad has happened.

Vampires are vulnerable to the sun. To silver. Astarion could have been killed and she would never know about it. 

Tiriel didn’t like Astarion’s last client at first sight—an obnoxious chieftain from the Tunland who was so similar to Tiriel’s abusive drunkard of a stepfather that she almost had a panic attack. He even spoke with the same shitty dialect native to Tiriel’s human relatives.

Tiriel even suggested finding someone in town to look after Alethaine in her absence. Hells she was going to let him go alone! But Astarion talked her out.

I love having you as my bodyguard, but let’s not leave Alethaine without both of her parents.

Tiriel feels a gentle touch of fingers on her hair.

“Mum.”

“Hm?”

“Your mum and dad were half-elves like you? Or one of them was an elf like me and Dad?”

Tiriel looks up. Well, sooner or later she would have asked. For some reason the absence of Astarion’s family doesn’t bother Alethaine (at least now), maybe because she understands the concept that “dad was killed and resurrected and it was so long ago it was all forgotten”—but the  fact that Tiriel doesn't have anyone except for her husband probably surprises her.

“My mother was a human and my father was an elf.”

“But where are they? Is grandma dead?”

Tiriel is quiet for a second. Grandma. Well, sure. Tiriel did have a mother. A woman who gave birth to her. And hated her so much didn’t even bother to give her a name. 

Tiriel does mental math. She has no idea how old her mother was when they last saw each other but considering some of Tiriel’s brothers had already had children,the old hag must be around ninety. If she is alive, which is dubious considering the living conditions in the Tunland and, especially, in the Sunset Mountains.

“And grandpa? If he is an elf, he is still somewhere!”

“Alethaine, I don’t know who my father was or is. I don’t know his name, I don’t know where he was from. And as for my mother… she wasn’t a good person.”

Alethaine winces her nose. 

“But she was your mum!”

“She was a woman who gave birth to me. But she was never my mum. Alethaine, sometimes it happens. Sometimes mothers don’t love their children. And sometimes fathers just disappear without a trace. There are plenty of adults who shouldn't become parents at all.”

Alethaine shakes her head. 

“What if Dad has disappeared too?”

“No,” Tiriel says firmly. “Your dad will come back.”

“Are you sure?”

“I am. Because he loves us.”

Alethaine squeezes her lips.

“Mum.”

Tiriel smiles. Once Aletaine starts asking, she doesn’t stop.

“Were you happy when I was born?”

“Of course! We were very happy to have you!”

Tiriel feels tears pricking her eyes. Of course, she can't know it but she is sure her own birth was met with curses and insults once her bitch of a mother and the midwife saw that the newborn had pointy ears. 

Elven bastard. Dirty blood. Pixie. 

Holding her own daughter in her arms for the first time, Tiriel couldn't understand how anyone could carry a child in their own body, experience childbirth, and still hate such an innocent human being.

“When I have a daughter, I will love her very-very much, just like you love me”

“Well, then she will be lucky to have both a mother and grandmother.”

Tiriel looks outside as if hoping to see a familiar figure approaching the house.

Nothing. 

There is only one thing Tiriel can do about it except for waiting.  

“Alethaine, I need to go away for a few days. You will live with the innkeeper's family.”

“You will go looking for dad?”

“Yes. And, please, don’t make me feel sorry I’ve left you with them.”

Alethaine nods. The innkeeper, his husband, and their five children are the only dwarves in Daggerlake - and almost the same “weirdos” as the Ancunins. Besides, the innkeeper is a retired adventurer and brews the best ale Tiriel has ever drunk. 

“And promise me you won’t crawl on the ceilings. Even if you are asked to.”

“But it’s fun!”

“Yes, but people usually don’t like it when the child they are asked to look after can run away from them to the ceiling.”

“Bu muum…”

“ALETHAINE.”

Tiriel rarely uses her “rage” voice on Alethaine but it always works. Anethaine flinches, her eyes wide open and the book drops to the floor.

“Alright! I won't crawl on the ceiling!”

“Good girl. Now, get dressed and take what you need”

Tiriel hopes it will take her less than a week to find Astarion.

She is even ready to provide an offering to some deity to ensure she won’t coming back home  a widow.

**

It’s hunger. Pain. Desperation.

Astarion wanders through narrow stone halls looking for prey. Nothing. There is nothing. This place is lifeless. 

He is still there, in the dungeons, isn’t he?

Still locked somewhere under his master’s mansion. Starved, beaten, tortured.

It was all a dream

The sun. The warmth of a mortal body. The kisses, the hugs. Home, wife, daughter. It was just a mind trick.

The memories fade so does his consciousness.

A red-haired woman. Freckles on her back. She is saying something to him. Who is she? He can't remember.

A little girl. Cold pale skin, no breathing, blood with a bitter scent of wormwood. Dhampir? Or just an unfortunate child turned into a spawn?

No, they are not real. He is going to hear HIS voice. Humiliating orders. Astarions waiting for it like a lash.

Boy, don’t slouch before me.

Astarion lies on the cold stone. His body is paralyzed. Vampires can spend decades like that - they can’t die of hunger, they just freeze in a neverending torture.

The woman. She keeps invading his thoughts. Who is she? The vision slips away.

You’ve brought cattle, boy.

Yes, the master is here. He is disappointed. He will flay Astarion’s skin and chain him to the wall. But what did astarion do? Did he run away? Did he fail to bring the food? Did he break one of the unwritten rules he couldn’t possibly remember?

The night vale, the stars in the skies, the mountains in the distance. A bunch of red-haired warriors. Kill the vampire. Kill the vampire.

Sun is burning Astarion’s skin.

Did they just return him to his master?

Astarion doesn’t move. Soon there is no name, no reason. Just an empty starving shell.

BLOOD.

Astarion’s body stirs up. Someone alive is close, close enough for his vampiric senses to catch them.

HEART BEATING.

So loud he hears it from a distance.

He jumps on his feet and walks toward his prey.

A woman. Probably, a half-elf. He catches her mixed scent. She is armored with a two-handed ax.

And she is alone.

“Who is there?” she asks, ready to thrust her skull-crushing weapon. Too bad the prey has  dark vision. It gives her some advantages. But she will be dead soon anyway, once she satiates his starving body. 

He bares his fangs and almost physically senses her fear. The blood of a scared creature is the sweetest.

“Astarion?” her voice trembles. She takes a step back.

And drops her weapon.

He rushes toward her and knocks her to the ground. She doesn’t resist for some reason but the vampire doesn’t pay attention to that.

Astarion pierces her neck. Blood streams down his throat. 

So sweet, so delicious. He can’t stop - he won’t stop. Every drop of this woman’s body is going to be his, he is going to satiate himself and then he will go hunting for someone else…

His body slowly gets warmer and his sanity slowly returns.

Astarion. My name is Astarion.

He doesn’t have a master.

He can… feed… on mortals…

Freedom. Sunlight.

Tiriel.

He pulls away and the woman falls on the stone floor, unable to move and barely breathing.

“Oh no…” he mutters observing what he has done. “Tiriel…”

Astarion crawls back to his beloved. Her eyelids are half open, and her skin is almost as pale as his.

“Tiriel!” he slaps her cheek. “Tirel! Stay awake! Look at me, look at me! Oh gods!”

He presses her weak body to his chest, cradling her in his arms. His darling Tiriel, his wife, his thiramin… 

“M-my bag… There is… a… potion” she whispers.

Astarion opens it and finds a small bottle. He unclenches Tiriel’s jaw with his strong hands and pours the liquid into her mouth.

The color returns to her cheeks and her heart stops beating so fast. Her eyes are still full of fear and it hurts Astarion even more.

“Tiriel… I…” Astarion mutters but he can’t say anything else.

What is he going to say, after all?

“Astarion, what the hells happened to you?” she finally says. “You looked like a fucking ghoul! Well you still do… a bit”

Astarion gulps. His throat hurts. He needs more. He is too weak, too exhausted. Astarion looks at his hands to avoid Tirilel’s eyes and horror pierces him once again.

His hands are all covered in burns. Nail plates are broken, and the skin hangs in shreds. 

“Hey! Astarion, look at me!” Tiriel finally makes herself sit up and grabs his mutilated hands. “Hush, I am here, I am here!”

She hugs him and he feels how weak she is. His body trembles, the panic crushes his mind with boiling hot waters, tears stream down his face and his mouth is open in a silent scream.

“Hush, my love, it’s going to be alright. We are going home. Alethaine misses you”

Alethaine. His daughter.

He is safe. His master is dead. He has it all.

And he’s almost lost it.

Tiriel cups his face. “Astarion, I shouldn’t have let you go. I knew something was wrong. Did they try to kill you?”

“I don't remember.”

“Where are your things? Daggers? The armor?”

Astarion looks down - his feet are bare, the trousers and the shirt are all in rags. He does look like he just emerged from a tomb.

“Damn. Well, let’s hope no one will attack us on the way back. Come on, let’s go outside and get you more blood. And then we are going home and the fuck I am letting you go alone next time!”

**

Tiriel lies on the bedroll. She’s set up the tent in the cave—close enough to the surface but with access to the underground tunnels.

She didn’t manage to understand what exactly happened to Astarion and why he was that feral when she found him. But the burns on his skin betrayed the only reason—the sun.

It seems like whoever did this managed to overcome Astarion in a fight and then let him burn in the sun. Astarion managed to get into the tunnels but lost his way. And since the tunnels were completely empty the hunger didn’t let him heal.

She knew they couldn't trust those bastards from Tunland! She has a good intuition after all. Next time Astarion had better listen to his wife!

Her whole body hurts, especially her neck. Astarion rarely feeds on Tiriel—her blood is more like a medicine to him rather than food but when he does he is always gentle, making sure the process doesn’t hurt her. But this—this was a full-fledged assault. He ripped her throat with his fangs and she is alive only thanks to the fact he returned to his senses before it was too late.

She hears light footsteps.

Astarion is back. His hands are healed and he looks like himself, not the starved monster she encountered in the tunnels.

She elbows up, but Astarion pulls away in embarrassment.

“Astarion, come here,” Tiriel asks. “I’ve spent a month in an empty bed. Don’t deprive me of your presence,” she takes his hand in hers.

Together they sit on the bedroll and Tiriel hugs him nuzzling the crook of his neck.

“I am sorry,” he says.

“Don’t.”

“I’ve almost killed you.”

“But you didn't. Astarion, please, you’ve lost yourself because of hunger. I won’t deny I was scared,but it doesn’t mean it has to change anything about us.”

“I almost killed you,” he repeats. “I would have stepped in the sun if I had done it.”

“Hm, and left our daughter an orphan? I don’t think there are many people ready to raise a dhampir.”

“Where is she?”

“I left with the innkeeper’s family. Good thing I went out looking for you. Who knows where the darkness would have taken you.”

He nods and presses his legs to his chest. Tiriel hugs him from behind. When they just started being together she did it daily—a ritual to console him. But it’s been a while since he needed it.

She kisses the nape of his neck. Then she kisses his cheek. Caress his ears. Plays with his curls.

“I love you,” she whispers. “You are the best thing that happened to me.”

Astarion weeps and Tiriel tugs him closer.

“You need to meditate, love” She kisses his forehead. “Think about something good. Remember how we left Baldur’s Gate twenty-six years ago? We hit the road at sunset and just walked hand in hand. Or when we were stuck in some shitty northern town for the whole winter? I couldn’t make myself leave the room and one night you came back with a pair of rings. You just put one on my finger and kept staring at me as if you saw me for the first time.”

“I prepared the whole wedding speech but forgot it all,” Astarion says, not even trying to get into reverie.

“Or remember how we were both freaking out because of the pregnancy? One day you just knelt in front of me, placed your hand on my belly and burst into tears because your vampire hearing allowed you to hear Alethaine’s heartbeat.”

“We need to go home, Astarion, and you need to rest. Then we can talk about anything that bothers you.”

**

Alethaine flips the page of the book. Thanks to dark vision she can read in complete darkness. The story catches her mind—it is a story of old times when elves ruled Faerun. Thousands and thousands of years before the Age of Humanity, her ancestors walked those lands, building the towers and castles and practicing the ways of long-forgotten magic.

But the intrusive thoughts keep getting into her young mind. First, Dad disappeared without a trace and Mum was so worried she could barely do anything. Then, Mum left town and Alethaine was all alone. Sure, the dwarven family is friendly and they don’t mind taking care of one more child (it’s not a big deal if there are five or six of them), but with every passing day Alethaine was getting more anxious.

What if both of her parents had died? What if she was already an orphan? 

Two months passed like this. And then, she was woken up by familiar voices, and her tiny world was restored.

The dhampir puts the book away and takes her plushie. It’s nice to sleep in her own bed for once, but she feels so lonely it cripples her.

Alethaine walks to her parents’ room. Mum and Dad lie in each other’s arms. They discuss something she can’t understand.

“I think we have a visitor,” Astarion chuckles. “What is it, princess?”

“Can I sleep with you?” Alethaine asks, pressing the plushie to her chest.

“Sure, come here!” Astarion opens the blanket up inviting Alethaine in. The dhampir immediately nestles between her parents.

Tiriel hugs her and kisses the crown of her head and Astarion adjusts a bit so he can see both of his girls.

Alethaine relaxes. Her mother’s heartbeat is so loud it’s basically the only thing she can hear. Dad doesn’t breathe and his heart doesn’t beat, but she finds special comfort when he holds her—there is something more natural about his cold hands than her mother’s warmth.

“Did something scare you, princess?” Astarion asks, intertwining his fingers in Alethain’s long soft hair.

Alethaine feels a wave of sadness and fear rising up in her body. Before she manages to say anything coherent she bursts in tears causing both of her parents to immediately rush to comfort her.

“Were you afraid we were absent for so long?” Tiriel asks, placing Alethaine in her lap. Her motherly kisses are so tender the dhampir cries louder and more desperate.

Astarion sits up and wraps his hands around them both.

“I am sorry, princess. We aren’t going to leave you anymore, we promise.”

Alethaine sniffs, pressing her nose into Tiriel’s chest. 

And then she hears a quiet lullaby.

Astarion hums it in Elven. Alethaine can’t decipher words but the song soothes her as Tiriel sways her a bit in her arms as if the dhampir was still a baby. 

Both her mother’s warmth and her father’s undead coldness weave a perfect sense of comfort for her. 

Of course, they were going to come back. They are her parents. They can’t disappear, they can’t die.

As Alethaine drifts into sleep, she notices the way her parents look at each other. 

This image is being engraved in her mind and Alethaine will remember this even years later.

Even centuries later Alethaine Ancunin will remember the way her mother smiled to her father and the way Astarion held Tiriel’s hand. The way they talked to each other, the way they saw the world in their lover’s eyes.

Three centuries later, when Alethaine takes her own daughter in her pale hands, this image will flee into the dhampir’s mind, and she will weep, mourning her long-dead mother.

--

Tag list

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[velvetxkissesx]

come home

izuku midoriya x fem coded reader

after Izuku leaves UA, you and the rest of your class make the decision to drag him back kicking and screaming if you needed to. you go over the recent events that led you up to that moment in time.

WARNINGS: SPOOIIILLEEERRRS FOR SEASON SIX SO IF YOU HAVENT WATCHED OR READ THE MANGA YOU’VE BEEN WARNED. violence, lots of cussing because of katsuki bakugo being present, extremely unedited and unread, it’s so long I hate it so much but I’m posting it anyways because I’ve been obsessed with this idea. it’s a little angsty I suppose

“You know he isn’t going to come easily, right?” You mumbled to Bakugo, as you two walked out of the security gate side by side. The rest of your class behind you.

“Yeah yeah, I’ve kicked his ass once, I’ll do it again and drag him back by his stupid hair,” Bakugo tightened his gauntlets before he looked at you, and finally realized how terrified you were, “Hey, this is going to work idiot, we all have things we need to say to him."

You all made your way, following the gps Endeavor had for him. Everyone’s nerves were high, maneuvering through the streets. There was no way you guys were going to fail this mission. Not when it was something this important. For someone this important.

"Over here, I found him."

-----a few days after izuku left UA

"Bakugo she's still HEALING!" You could hear a loud commotion outside of your hotel room. There wasn't much left in you to care though, not when you were rereading the same scribbled out note that was on your bed. It was even right next to your favorite flower.

You have to understand that not telling you about One for All was hard. There were a lot of times that I wanted to turn to you, but I couldn't. Don't be mad at Kacchan for knowing and not saying anything either, I made him swear. I have so much that I want to tell you, but that will have to wait for now. I am sorry I kept this a secret from you of all people.. You almost died, he almost killed you because he gathered what you meant to me. I have to stay away from UA, away from you, to keep you all safe.

I hope you can forgive me..

Izuku.

Your door busted open, Bakugo being held back by Sero and Denki. He looked at you, and then at the paper in your hands.

"Stop crying and get your ass up, we need to figure this out." Bakugo threw a bag with your uniform in it at you. You looked up at him and the other guys and waved them out of the room so you could get dressed.

......

"Todoroki, I might punch your dad," You mumbled, and the taller boy looked down at you while you all waited to corner him in the principal's office.

"You were just released from the hospital after your heart was slightly punctured, I don't think punching the number one hero is in your best interest," Todoroki half-way joked with you, before his tone went serious again, "If you do it though, you'll have my support."

All of you walked into the principal's office, and Endeavor looked shocked at first before he sighed. He almost seemed to just accept the fact the entirety of Class 1-A was standing in front of him. None of you were happy with him. Bakugo explained to him why you guys needed to go, and you backed up his statement. The two of you, and Todoroki staring down the number one hero. Endeavor tried to argue and talk him out of it, but the principal wouldn't budge. Instead he gave you the okay to track down Midoriya, and bring him back.

----------

Your feet ran faster than you should have been able to, considering it wasn't too long ago your heart was in pretty bad shape. None of that mattered though, your best friend was there. He was there and you were close enough to reach him. You could reach him. All of you were in the area soon enough, Todoroki using his ice to subdue the villain Midoriya was fighting even further. Yaoyorozu helping imprison him even longer.

He didn't even look the same anymore, not even just because he hadn't bathed in who knew how long. His usually bright green eyes were dull, and tired now. You didn't know what you wanted to do more, hug him or punch him for leaving you all behind like that. He was looking around slowly, trying to assess the situation. Finally though, his eyes landed on you.

For a moment he looked relieved, but then his face dropped again.

---------------------

Izuku watched in horror as the black and red shards shot out of Shigaraki, but he wasn't aiming for him. No instead they went for their target, you. One went straight through your chest, another hitting your shoulder, another hitting your leg.

You didn't scream, you didn't even panic. Instead your clouded eyes focused on the one thing that always calmed you down. Izuku Midoriya, with his beautiful green hair, and matching green eyes. The boy that felt like spring to you. You wanted him to be the last thing you saw.

Izuku couldn't move as he watched the blood you coughed up trickle out of the corner of your mouth. Your once bright colored suit now soaked red. Before you went limp, before your eyes closed for what Izuku thought was for good, you said something. Izuku couldn't hear it though, because before he could even process what had happened to you, Bakugo was injured just the same.

-----------------------

“I don't understand, why are you here?" He looked everywhere but you, which made you want to punch him even more.

"We were worried about you," You stepped more towards Bakugo, making sure he couldn't just ignore you. Izuku's eyes flickered towards you again. He grabbed his mask and started to stand up.

"That's nice, but I'm fine really, no need for concern," He put his mask back on his face, "So leave."

Bakugo started to clap.

"Oh yeah, great speech! Wasn't that great?" Bakugo looked at you, you knew he was trying to keep you on track, "Just what we wanted from the famous One For All successor! Real talk, are you able to smile right now?"

"In order to smile.. For everyone to live in peace.." He stood up, and maybe you were just trying to convince yourself but you swore you could've felt him looking at you through his mask, "I have to go, I'm sorry."

Izuku got ready to move, and you took in a deep breath. All of your classmates were already prepared for this, for him to go this route. There was no way he was going to let it happen without a fight.

"You're going to have to make us, ya busted-ass All Might wannabe!" Bakugo taunted.

"We had a feeling that's what you were going to say," Iida sighed, "Let's do this class!"

"You're coming home Izuku." You clenched your fists

---------------------------

You knew it was Bakugo when there was one quick knock, followed by your door handle being shaken, and then more knocks coming after. You opened the door and he shoved a costume case at you, followed by a bag of your fixed up support equipment.

"We have his location, we are going to get him now, and you're coming," Bakugo grumbled, and you raised an eyebrow, "Don't give me that stupid face, I know what the principal said about you hanging back, and I don't give a shit,"

"You guys can do this without me," You sighed and turned into your room. Bakugo let out an annoyed sigh, followed by a lot of mumbling that you could only assume would piss you off if he said it out loud.

"Look, just because your heart got a tiny little hole in it, doesn't mean that you're not capable of helping!" Bakugo snapped, and he grabbed your shoulders to turn you towards him, "That damn idiot needs to see you, standing up, walking, and talking, or else all of this goes to shit!"

"I don't understand why I am such a crucial part to this working!" You shouted, the tears stinging your eyes, "I mean it's not like we were that close anymore, not since we started work-studies! You and Todoroki will be there, Iida will be there, everyone else will be there I don't understand why it all falls apart if I don't come!"

"Do I have to spell this shit out for you? You aren't just a friend to him, just like he isn't for you," Bakugo's tone seemed to soften, even if he was still talking at the same obnoxious volume, "Look, we both have shit that we have to say to him, things we have to confess, so get dressed and come the fuck on,"

You blinked a few times, trying to figure out how Bakugo knew about your feelings for your best friend. It wasn't something you had really shared with anyone.

"You knocked out on the battlefield, you didn't see him after we got stabbed, for a second I thought the idiot might actually rip Shigaraki's ass into pieces," Bakugo's voice was finally quieter, "Once he was on the ground, and he was looking at what we all thought was you lyin' there dead, he told you he loved you, that he was in love with you,"

"W-what?"

"That's why I am saying we need you to help us, he needs to see you okay again, and maybe then we will have a better chance to get through to him."

You nodded your head.

Before you lost consciousness after being stabbed, you told Izuku the same thing.

That you loved him.

-------------------

Everyone had been trying to talk to him, but he just kept trying to run. That was until he fell into your trap. Todoroki was the next line of defense after you, but Izuku wasn't showing any sign of moving once he saw you. He actually dropped once he spotted you on the roof. His mask had fallen off and you were finally getting a good look at his face.

"I am trying to protect you, you have to let me go," Izuku's voice cracked a little, but you shook your head and stepped towards him. He didn't run or back away, he stayed still.

"I am so.. so angry with you," You tried your best to keep your temper and your voice even, "Do you remember, a few nights before the battle even happened, when we were sitting in your dorm room?

---------------------

"I'm happy that I've had you for such a long time, you know that?" Izuku's words caught you off guard, both of you turning red, "I just, I mean, because we are best friends and-"

You looked at him, and gave a small smile, "I'm happy that I have you too, Izuku."

Neither one of you could find the right thing to say next. So instead you both just sat on his bed, and changed the subject to other little things going on. There was one difference though, your pinkies stayed right next to each other, just barely overlapping.

-----------------------

"I had so much more that I wanted to say, but I was too scared to," You stepped closer, "But I'm not scared anymore, so Izuku what I really wanted to say that day, what I said to you after Shigaraki-"

"I know, at least I think I do," Izuku whispered, and you stopped, "Which is just another reason why I have to go, I have to get as far away from you as possible, so that he can't use you against me again."

"Do you really think you being gone is going to stop him from targeting the school? From targeting us?!" You finally let the tears come out, "I am so sorry that you had to see that happen to me, I should have moved faster, but if you think you know what I was going to say that day, then you know why I am not giving up until I know you're safe!"

Izuku stepped forward, and pushed your hair off of your forehead. His lips were chapped, but they still felt so soft against your skin. Both of you seemed to be stuck in time like that, his lips just barely kissing your forehead. There was a silent apology in that moment, a silent confession. Before you could reach for his hand and let him know that it was okay, and that you really did feel it too, he was gone. Todoroki's ice wall was the next thing to catch him. The next plan was in motion.

"We are with you! You don't have to face anything alone!" Tsu shouted at him and the ice began to shake. You ran to the edge of the building, and watched.

"Have you considered this might be exactly what All For One wants?!" Todoroki yelled, "He could go after UA while we are distracted here! You've worn yourself out, and you still don't have a lead on the League, so stop this!"

"Izuku you need a new plan!" You shouted, using your quirk to get up onto the ice with Todoroki so he could hear you, "We are more than ready to help you do just that!"

"If you actually want to save our school, then instead of abandoning it, come back and fight for it!" Todoroki held out an arm to protect you from slipping on the ice that was still struggling to hold Izuku, even though Todoroki was forming even more to try and hold him, "Let's stand together and protect UA!"

'"You can't be near me!" Izuku struggled against the ice.'"You can't be near me!" Izuku struggled against the ice.

"You don't get to make that decision for us!" You yelled, grabbing Todoroki's arm to steady yourself, "Izuku please!"

"You could all die! This is a fight that is destined to take place, between One for All and All for One, the rest of you can't keep up!" Izuku finally broke out of the ice, and Todoroki got you two off of the ice. You looked at him defeated but he gave you a firm nod and got ready for the next phase.

Bakugo was helping Iida get to him. Kaminari placed a firm hand on your shoulder. He was trying to reassure you, silently, as you all cheered for Iida. You flinched forward a little bit, your heart still too exhausted to be doing all of this. Sero and Kaminari both helped you back down onto the ground, where Kirishima was trying to catch them.

"Stop trying to run away from us," You stepped away from the other two boys, walking towards Izuku more, "Don't you get it? We aren't giving up on you, we all agree it is time for you to come back,"

"I wish I could, but I.. I am too scared, there are a lot of people that me coming back could cause trouble for," Izuku's voice was cracking. You grabbed Bakugo's shoulder.

"Do it." You whispered.

----------

"When you said that you have things you needed to confess to him, do I have some competition to worry about?" You opened the door, and Bakugo scoffed before he shook his head.

"No, dumbass, I just owe the idiot an apology," He mumbled, his eyes avoiding your own wide ones, "I owe you one too, but you're going to have to wait,"

"Awe Kacchan, I always knew you were still our friiieennnddd." You teased, trying to lighten both of your moods. The three of you grew up together, and although Bakugo didn't shove you as far away as he did Izuku.. He still distanced himself enough from you.

-----------

The crowd reacted the way you had all expected them too. Izuku had tried to sneak off, but you grabbed his hand. The two of you looked at one another, but he stayed silent. He squeezed your hand slightly. Uraraka was the one to try and take a stand though, floating above the crowd while she defended why he needed to be there. You only let him go when Kota broke through the crowd, running for the boy who once saved him. You stepped back, standing by Bakugo as you watched the crowd change their minds.

"You still need to tell him y'know?" Bakugo muttered, nudging you slightly, "If I could apologize to Izuku in front of our entire class, you can tell him you love him, let it be in private later, but you have to do it,"

"I will, but first he needs to rest, plus Denki was right he needs to take a damn bath."

The boys took charge of making sure that Izuku got a bath. Judging by all of the noise, you could only assume it was going well. You got out of a quick shower, and made your way back to your room. The boys were going to be there awhile, and you were sure that it wouldn't be the right time to have that conversation now. You opened your door though, and let out a scream at the fact there was already another person standing in there.

"I'M SORRY KACCHAN MADE ME COME UP HERE AND WAIT I THOUGHT YOU KNEW!" Izuku's hands frantically waved around as he rushed forward to apologize.

"That idiot really needs to understand that it was more than just a tiny hole," You mumbled, rubbing your chest, "Zuku stop saying you're sorry, it is okay, I just wasn't expecting you, I thought you were still in the bath,"

"Some of the guys still are," Izuku's eyes were focused on where the scar was just barely showing out of your tank top. You closed your door, and grabbed his hand. You were certain he stopped breathing when you put his hand against the left side of your chest.

"It wasn't your fault that I got hurt, I was trying to help you, I knew the risk," You whispered, holding his hand against your heartbeat, "He managed to hit right beside my heart, so it wasn't punctured all the way through, but there was a lot of bleeding, the medics fixed it though,"

Izuku's eyes filled with tears again, as he stared at where his hand was resting. You only moved his hand, so you could hug him. You wrapped your arms around his torso, and pressed your face into his chest. His arms wrapped back around you, his face pressing into your hair. The two of you stood there like that, crying with each other. Taking in the fact that you were both okay, you were both alive.

"I couldn't hear you that day, when you told me, it wasn't until a couple days ago when the moment replayed in my head that I realized what you said," Izuku pulled back, and pulled you back too, "I came to see you before I left, you were asleep, all hooked up to machines and out of surgery for them to fix what quirks couldn't, they said that they were just waiting for you to wake up but that they didn't know when that was going to happen.."

"I didn't until a few days after you left, then I found your note and," You trailed off before you took a deep breath, "Izuku, there is so much happening right now, and I know that everything is a little tense and scary, so maybe it isn't the right time but we both know that there is a lot we need to lay out for each other, so can we just.."

"I love you," You could barely hear him, but he said it first, "You're right, things are tense and scary, we don't know much for certain, but I know how I feel about you, and I can't let myself be scared about that anymore, but before this can be anything I.. I mean we have to defeat All for One, and I would like to do that with you by my side.."

Both of you were still crying, but you knew it wasn't just guilt or sadness anymore. They were happy tears too. You were both convinced the other was in danger, and for the first time in weeks you both felt at ease. Just standing with each other, holding onto each other. Izuku’s feelings finally out on the table. No more ‘I have so much to say’, no more beating around the bush. He loved you, in the same way you loved him. So even though you knew he was right, and it wasn’t the time or place for you both to cross that line between friends and lovers..

"I love you, so much, I have for awhile now before you had One for All, before you were this big hero with the fate of the world on his shoulders," You put your hands on his chest, "So now it’s time for you to share that burden, with me, with everybody here, because we are in this together Izuku Midoriya,”

Originally you were just going to kiss his cheek, but he grabbed your face and kissed you. Both of your cheeks were still wet with tears, but you didn’t care. His lips were still chapped, but you didn’t care. It was a quick moment, maybe not even the most romantic, but you didn’t care. His hands stayed on your face, and you both kept eye contact.

“When this is all over, I owe you a date.” Izuku whispered, and you agreed.

The two of you walked down to join everyone else in the common room. Bakugo was glaring at you, waiting for confirmation, and took it as a sign when you held up your middle finger at him discreetly. There was also the fact Izuku hadn’t let go of your hand as he talked to everyone else. After you got to scold All Might for letting Izuku do this.. You and Izuku eventually ended up falling asleep together on the couch. His head resting against your chest, instantly soothed by the sound of your heartbeat. Your hand was in his hair, still gently playing with it before you slipped into an even deeper sleep.

“Should we move them to their beds?” Kirishima looked at the two of you tangled together on the couch. Todoroki shook his head, and put a blanket over you both.

“Nah, they’re not letting each other go anytime soon.” Bakugo defended you two, and he even took it upon himself to sleep on the other couch.. Just in case of course.

[drabbles-mc]

When You Love It

Happy Lowman & Daughter!OFC (Diedra Lowman)

Inspired by the quotes from This Post

Warnings: 18+, angst, blood, murder, implied/referenced physical assault

Word Count: 4.3k

A/N: I have so many thoughts and feelings about these two, and about Diedra in general. I feel like I get in my own way trying to wait and think of some big overarching longfic for my ocs when really I should just get more comfortable writing down the ideas I have for them and posting them. If things end up connecting down the road, great! If not, that's great too! This is definitely more of an origin story type of thing lol. I was originally going to add more to this one-shot but I didn't want it to feel forced so I just left it as-is. Hopefully there will be more Lowman Sister stuff in the future!

SOA Taglist: @withmyteeth @garbinge @espieviolet99 @littlekittymeow @chibsytelford @meadowofsinfulthoughts @i-just-read-stuff @bport76 @buckybarneshairpullingkink @paintballkid711 @jitterbugs927 @fanfic-n-tabulous @mijagif @frattsparty @winchestershiresauce @beardburnsupersoldiers @choochoo284 @artemiseamoon @nessamc @passionatewrites (If you want to be added to any of my taglists, please let me know!)

She still remembered the first time that she had to help patch Happy up. It wasn’t the type of thing that someone forgot, even though she was young when it happened. Despite the fact that she was only eleven at the time, even so many years later she could still vividly remember the sound of the front door slamming shut in the middle of the night. It had been loud enough to stir her from her sleep, but not her younger sister, who was still peacefully slumbering on the opposite side of the room.

She’d tip-toed out of their room and down the hall until she reached the staircase. She could hear heavy footfalls and the clattering of things in the kitchen. She assumed that it was her dad, but there was no way to be sure unless she went downstairs and checked it out for herself. And what if she was wrong? He always told her not to put herself into situations that she wouldn’t be able to get herself out of.

The footsteps got louder and she gasped as she went to turn and scramble back to her room. She didn’t even make it so that she was standing all the way upright before she heard his tired, currently strained voice from the bottom of the staircase.

“Di? That you?”

She stopped in her tracks, feeling nervous as she descended a few of the stairs. Her bare feet made almost no sound as she stepped, unlike her father’s. Her voice came out as a timid whisper, afraid that she was going to get in trouble for being up so late, for sneaking around the house. “Yes.”

He let out a sigh of relief as he leaned against the banister at the bottom of the stairs. Reaching over, he flipped the switch that turned on the singular light that hung over the staircase. He ignored the wide-eyed look that he got from his daughter when she saw the shape he was in.

“You know where I keep the first aid kit?” he asked her.

She nodded, and shot right back up the stairs without another word. She all but ran down the hall to the bathroom. Kneeling down, she opened the doors to the cabinet underneath their sink and grabbed the red and white plastic box that was sitting there with various other bottles of soap and other miscellaneous items. She tucked it underneath her arm before shutting the cabinet and making her way back towards the stairs.

When she reached the stairs, he wasn’t there anymore. She watched her step as she tried to go as quickly as possible down the hardwood steps without slipping and falling. When she reached the bottom and rounded the corner, she saw him sitting in his recliner. He was leaned back, practically disappearing into it in the darkness. His eyes were closed, his breathing steady. There was the same frown on his face that she had gotten so accustomed to.

He didn’t open his eyes when she stopped in front of him. She waited for a few seconds, and when he didn’t move or say anything, she cleared her throat to get his attention. His expression didn’t change except for the fact that he opened his eyes. She held out the kit to him.

“Here.” Her voice was still soft, still scared.

He groaned slightly as he sat upright. “Gonna need your help.”

Her eyes widened. “What?”

“Grandma’s been teaching you and your sister to sew, right?”

She gave a slow nod. “I’m not good at it, though.”

“You’re good enough.”

She knew better than to argue, so she just nodded. Unsure of what she was supposed to do now, she stood there and watched as he slowly shrugged his kutte off his shoulders and draped it over the arm of the recliner. Next, he reached, both hands gripping the collar of his t-shirt before he pulled it off over his head. The tiniest groan managed to get past his gritted teeth as he slipped the blood-stained fabric off and dropped it to the floor.

If Diedra had looked startled at the cuts on his face, the gash going across the left side of his abdomen left her frozen. Her hands trembled as she clutched the first aid kid. In the back of his mind, Happy knew that it wasn’t right or fair to put this on her, but he didn’t have much of another option at this point. He wasn’t going to his mom, not with this. And hospitals were out of the question. So, here he was, relying on his young daughter’s rudimentary sewing skills to patch him up.

“Go turn the light on,” he nodded towards the switch for the living room.

“What if I—”

“It’s gonna be fine.” He didn’t quite snap, but there was more of an edge to his voice than there usually was. He knew it was the pain that was making him sound that way. He just hoped that his daughter knew it too.

Diedra did as he asked, scurrying over to switch on the light before walking back over. She stared where his skin was torn—the bleeding still hadn’t stopped. She hadn’t even opened the first aid kit yet. Her hands were still trembling a fair amount as she stared at him.

“You’re still bleeding,” she said softly.

“It’ll stop,” he said matter-of-factly.

He leaned, ignoring the pain in his side as he did, so that he could reach and open the first aid kit. He grabbed the medical wipes and hastily cleaned the area by the wound. He cleaned it up enough so that Diedra would be able to stitch it with relative ease. She was right in saying that he was still bleeding, but the bleeding had slowed down considerably since it happened.

“Dad, I—”

“Please, Di.”

He laid down on the couch and Diedra sat down on the edge of the coffee table, the open first aid kit sitting in her lap. He gave her step-by-step instructions, trying to be as reassuring as he could manage given the circumstances. He was thankful that she probably had too much on her mind to look at or think about the numerous smiley faces tattooed into his opposite side. He tried not to think too much about what he was doing to her, the little girl sitting there in her oversized pajama t-shirt and pants that were covered in horses. Her hair was still messy from sleep, her eyes somehow simultaneously tired and frantic. This wasn’t the job for a child but there she was anyway.

She had tears in her eyes the whole time, her fingers fumbling every so often, but she kept on trying to muddle through. Happy nodded in approval and grit his teeth through the pain as she worked. No matter how long it took, it was still better than bleed out, and it was better than sitting in a jail cell.

“Alright,” he nodded back towards the kit when she had finally finished sewing him back together, “now just get the scissors and cut it.”

Her fingers trembled as she made the final cut. Happy’s head dropped back against the couch cushion as he let out a sigh of relief. His arm dangled off the edge of the couch, fingers brushing against the hardwood floor. He was staring silently up at the ceiling as his daughter sat there staring at him.

“What happened?” she asked as she stared at her handiwork.

“Got into a fight.”

“With who?” There was a slight tremor to her voice, like she knew that she wasn’t supposed to be asking him that question. That was one of the rules—no questions about dad’s work or about dad’s club.

“Bad guys,” he answered shortly. He didn’t say anything else for a minute but he felt her staring at him. Turning his head to look at her, he said, “Go put the kit away and get back to sleep.”

“Dad—”

“Go to bed, Di,” his voice was firmer this time. “Try not to wake up your sister.”

Her voice was quiet, defeated, “O-okay.”

He watched as she closed the kit and started to head back to the stairs. When she reached the bottom of the staircase, he spoke up again. “Hey.” He waited for her to look over at him, exhaustion and fear etched into her innocent little face. “Thanks, kid.”

She didn’t sound any more reassured or confident than before as she said, “You’re welcome.”

She went to the bathroom to put the first aid kit away. She tucked it back underneath the sink the exact same way that she’d found it. Standing back up, she turned the hot water on in the sink so that she could wash her hands. She scrubbed hard, trying to get all of her father’s blood off of her palms and fingertips. She didn’t even understand how it had gotten onto the backs of her hands too, but it did. She kept applying more soap and scrubbing over and over again until the water ran clear, until her tanned skin was free of any red.

When she got back to the bedroom that she shared with her little sister, she didn’t know if she wanted to go inside. She didn’t know what else to do, though. So, she quietly stepped past the threshold and padded quietly over to her sister’s bed. Her baby sister could sleep through anything, so she hardly stirred at all as Diedra scrambled into bed next to her, pulling the blanket up over both of them before trying to go back to sleep.

She also remembered the first time Happy had needed to help patch her up. She was fifteen, and by that point it had been about five years of her playing emergency doctor for her father whenever he got too banged up doing whatever it was that he did for the club, the number of smiley faces on his side steadily increasing but neither of them said anything about it. They still weren’t allowed to ask questions, but Diedra knew a little more than her sister. It was only fair since she was the one mastering the use of the first aid kit. Her stitching had gotten a lot better since that first night, although Happy still had the messy scar on his abdomen from the first one, a scar that he hadn’t gotten tatted over.

But now he was the one who needed to help Diedra with her mess. When he got the call, the thought crossed his mind that maybe if he hadn’t put so much on her over the years, that she would have normal teenage girl problems. He’d wondered over the last year or so if it was going to be a problem. The few fights that she’d gotten into at school always getting more out of hand than they would for a typical fourteen or fifteen-year-old girl. Sure, Happy taught both of his girls how to keep themselves safe if they had to, but these had been more than that. He wondered if it had been his fault.

Then, as he listened to the shake in Diedra’s voice as she spoke to him via the payphone she walked by every day on her way home from school, he couldn’t help but to think that it was too late for him to fix any of it.

“I don’t know what to do,” she told him honestly.

He didn’t have to see her to know that she was crying. “Stay put. I’ll be there soon.”

“Dad, I’m not, I can’t,” she tried to get a sentence out, “People can’t see me like this.”

His brain was running at a mile a minute as he tried to figure out what to tell her. He didn’t know what she looked like, but she was smart, smart enough that he knew that she wasn’t worrying for nothing.

“Go to the bathroom behind the gas station. I’ll be there in ten.”

“What if—”

“Don’t open the door.”

For a split second, she had the same soft, scared voice of the eleven-year-old girl who had to stitch up her father’s stab wound in the middle of the night. “Okay.”

Happy tore down the streets on his bike. Speed limits and cops be damned, no one was going to slow him down now. He practically skidded to a stop in front of the bathroom door. Tearing his helmet off, he jumped off the bike and quickly strode over to the door. He jimmied the handle and found it locked. He let out a sigh of relief at that before knocking.

“It’s me.”

Seconds later the door unlocked from inside. Diedra pulled the door open a crack. Her eyes were red and watery, her ponytail almost completely fallen out with her hair sticking out in multiple directions. It hadn’t even crossed her mind to fix it as she paced inside the cramped, smelly, gas station bathroom.

Happy pressed his hand against the door to push it farther. “Open up. It’s just me.”

She did as he said. Pulling the door open farther, Happy was able to really see her. And he immediately understood why she didn’t want anyone else to see her. The white tank top that she had on had rusty red smears all over, splatter marks across her chest. There were a few flecks of blood on her face, too, along with tearstains. The most concerning thing, though, was the bruising that he could see around her throat. It took all of a split second for him to know that the bruises would match up with the shape of someone’s hands.

“What happened?” he asked.

She sniffled, shaking her head. “I don’t…I don’t…”

“Where are they?”

She nodded in the direction that she’d come from. “Back there. I don’t…I don’t think he’s…”

Happy didn’t say anything to her in response to that. Turning around, he went and grabbed a sweatshirt from the bag on his bike. It was old and ratty, but it would cover up the blood-stained tank top that she was wearing. He held it out to her without saying anything, and she took it from him silently as well. She pulled it over her head, letting the hood stay flipped up. When her hands came out the bottom of the sleeves, he saw the blood all over them, too.

“Any of it yours?” he asked her. She shook her head but wasn’t able to verbalize an answer. That was enough for Happy, though. He pulled his phone from his kutte and quickly dialed. He held it to his ear, not taking his eyes off of Diedra as the phone rang. The second there was an answer on the other end of the line, he started talking. “Hey, Mom. I need you to get Kota. Yea, she’s at the house.” He paused, waiting for the questions to stop. “No, I’ve got Di. We’re fine. Yea. I’ll get her tomorrow. Love you.” He snapped the phone shut before shoving it back into his kutte again. “Let’s get you home.”

“What about—”

“I’ll take care of it. Come on.” He reached, taking her by the elbow, his grip simultaneously firm and gentle as he brought her back to his bike.

He reached up, pushing the hood back down off her head. He grabbed his helmet, putting it on her and tightening the strap on it before clipping it beneath her chin. Neither of them said anything as they looked at each other. He was trying to figure out if she was on the brink of losing it, and she was looking at him hoping that he would give her any kind of reassurance that she was going to be okay.

Without another word, he climbed back onto his bike and motioned for him to get on behind him. She did, her arms wrapping around him. He couldn’t help but to notice that she was squeezing herself much tighter to him than she usually did. Both his kids were comfortable on the back of a bike—it was just the nature of being his daughters. But he could feel the extra layer of fear between them.

The first thing he said to her when they walked through the door was, “You need to go shower.”

She sniffled, nodding as she wiped at her eyes. “Right.” She felt the way her tank top was stuck to her skin, still tacky with blood. “What about my…” her voice trailed off as she pulled at the fabric of the hoodie.

“I’ll get rid of them.” He paused. “Toss them outside the bathroom door before you get in the shower.”

“Okay.”

He nodded towards the stairs. “Go. I’ll be back before you’re done.”

“You’re leaving?” panic saturated her voice.

“Just to clean up. Then I’ll be back.” He leaned in and kissed her forehead. “Before you’re done. Promise.”

She didn’t have anything left in her to fight about it, so she just nodded and made her way up the stairs. Happy watched until she was out of sight, and only then did he sigh, his shoulders sagging in defeat. They would talk about it when he got back. Until then, his mind was just going to race with all of the worst-case scenarios. It wasn’t the time to push her about it, though. Right now, the main concern for both of them was cleaning up.

The second he heard the shower start, he went back out of the house and immediately made his way for the pickup truck. He jumped in and peeled out of his driveway, right back the way that they’d just come on the bike. There was no guarantee that the guy was dead, that he would still be there, that the cops or some random bystander hadn’t already come across him. But judging by the state that Diedra was in, wherever the two of them were, it hadn’t been a high-traffic area.

He would do the real work, the actual cleanup, tomorrow. But he cleaned the mess up enough to buy him enough time to spend the night at home with his daughter. He knew how to get rid of bodies. The rest of this mess, though, that was new territory for him.

True to his word, he was back before she’d stepped out of the bathroom. The water wasn’t running anymore, but the bloody clothes were still in a heap outside the bathroom door. Happy grabbed them, immediately heading towards the back yard, for the fire pit.

He was poking what little was left of the charred fabric with a stick, mixing it with the branches and lawn clippings that were also in the fire pit with it. Diedra silently materialized beside him, wearing a pair of her own sweatpants but still wearing the sweatshirt that Happy had given her earlier. Her hair was just dry enough to not be dripping, the long waves coming over her shoulders and peeking out from under the hood that she had flipped up. He could still see the bruises through her damp locks of hair. He knew that she could still feel them, too.

Her eyes were fixed on the flames when Happy turned to look at her. He studied her face intently, but he couldn’t get much from her expression. Moments like that reminded him how much Lowman she really had in her. It was harder to see with her sister—she took more after their mother which was a different kind of heartbreak. But Diedra seemed like she was more than just 50% Happy. Maybe it was because he had been pulling her into the mess of the other side of his life for years now. But as she stood there, glassy-eyed but otherwise stone-faced, it felt like they could’ve almost been the same person.

“What’d you do with him?” she finally asked, still not looking at him as she tucked her hands into the pocket that went across the front of Happy’s sweatshirt.

“Took care of it.”

“That easy?” she asked, her voice weak.

“More to do tomorrow,” he told her honestly. “But for now, it’s taken care of.” He waited for her to ask or say something else. When she didn’t, he said, “Your turn.”

She turned and looked at him, eyebrows raised slightly but she didn’t say a word. He could see the confusion on her face at his statement.

“What’d you do with him?” he rephrased.

Her scoff turned into a sob, a sound that sent a shot of pain through her as it rattled against the inside of her bruised throat. “You saw.”

“You gonna tell me what happened?” He saw her bottom lip start to quiver. “You know who he was?”

She shrugged and shook her head. “Not,” she wiped at her eyes, “not really. He was always around when I would walk home from school. He’d say weird shit to me sometimes.”

“Your sister ever see him?”

She shrugged again. “I don’t know. He only ever said anything to me when I was alone, though. I never…I never said anything back to him. Even when I wanted to tell him to just—" she stopped herself as she shook her head.

“What happened?”

She was watching the last of her tank top and jeans finally crumble into nothing but ashes. “He came up to me. Followed me. I was, I was ignoring him the way I always did. Then he grabbed me, pulled me into that alley. He was gonna try to—” she sobbed, unable to finish the sentence.

Happy was already seeing red, fighting to keep what little composure he still had for the sake of his daughter. “What did he do, Di?”

She shook her head, angrily wiping at the tears on her face. “Nothing. I mean, he, you know,” she motioned towards her neck, “but nothing else. He didn’t get the chance to.” She dragged her hands down her face. “I keep that knife on me. The one you gave me—tuck it on the inside of my jeans like you told me. I forgot about it at first, because of everything. But then, when I thought I was gonna…” her voice trailed off for a moment, “I remembered.”

“Anyone around?” He was asking for her sake as much as his own. He didn’t want anyone to have seen her. No witnesses was better because of how it’d played out. But if someone had seen what happened and didn’t step in, didn’t say anything, there was going to be more than just one body for Happy to take care of the next day.

“I don’t think so. The way I walk home is usually pretty dead. That’s why I go that way.” She paused, finally turning so that she was looking Happy in the eyes. “What are you going to do with him?”

He shook his head. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Dad…” She stared at him until he leveled with her gaze again. “What are you going to do?”

He nodded towards the fire. “Same thing I did with your clothes. Burn him. Bury whatever is left when it’s done.”

“Where?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“I ki—” she couldn’t force the word out, so she rerouted, “I did this. You need to tell me.”

He mulled that over for a long time. He was just trying to protect her, although it felt too late to try and do that now. It felt like he’d already failed. He didn’t want to pull her even deeper into it though—she’d been through enough. But, if he had been in her position, he would want to know too. The problem was, that he didn’t want her to be him. He wanted her to be different, better.

“Do you want to go with me?” he asked against all better judgment. He saw the way Di froze, thinking over her answer. “We can go tonight after it gets dark.”

“Okay,” she said with a nod, her voice not sounding as small as it had before.

It was pitch black in the woods except for the warm light being given off by the flames in the shallow grave that Happy and Di were standing next to. Diedra was still in her sweatpants and Happy’s hoodie. Happy had left his kutte at home, opting for a plain black sweatshirt instead. They each stood there, watching the flames with their hands shoved into their pockets. Neither of them had said anything the entire time, not since they got into his pickup truck at the house.

“What now?” Di asked, speaking just loud enough over the crackling of the flames.

“Wait for it to burn out. Fill it back in and—”

“No,” she cut him off, “I mean, what do we do now?” She finally turned and looked at him, tearstains on her cheeks contrasting the hardened look in her eyes.

“Everything is gonna be the same,” Happy said, tone as neutral as it had ever been, “but it’s all gonna feel different.”

“Worse?”

“Different.”

She nodded, accepting that answer for the time being. She sighed, tucking her chin down towards her chest. If they’d been different people, Happy would’ve draped his arm around her and pulled her close. She would’ve folded into him and cried. However, they weren’t different people. Happy took a half-step closer to her so that the outside of his arm was pressed against the outside of hers, giving her a barely-perceptible nudge, a gesture that she returned.

Neither of them said anything else after that, not for the whole ride home. It wasn’t until they were getting ready to head to bed, not that either of them were going to sleep, that Happy spoke up and said something. He asked if she wanted to spend the night somewhere else, and when she said no, he kissed her forehead, said I love you, and sent her off to bed.

Since she couldn’t sleep that night, Di stayed up until the grey light of dawn started peeking through her bedroom window, giving herself a small, scratchy stick-n-poke tattoo on her hip in the shape of a smiley face.

[msookyspooky]

@bitchyhorror

Hooker Clan is Forced to Share a Bed

(Shenanigans ensue + Caleb's Dad Never Found Him and This One Shot is close to the Movies Timeline. No word count. Not Proofread.)

They all waited around outside the run down motel, anxiously eyeing the sky.

"What's takin' Jesse so long?" Diamondback mumbled under her breath as she sat on a nearby trashbin.

Severen leaned against the wall, cigarette hanging out of his mouth as Homer bummed one off of him. He glared at Caleb as Severen lit it for him. "We wouldn't be so rushed if it wasn't for him."

Caleb sat on the curb next to Mae, turning to speak to them with a huff. "I didn't mean to, Homer." As Mae protectively wrapped an arm around his back.

Severen pocketed his lighter and threw his cigarette on the ground; grinding it with his bootheel. "I didn't mean to! I didn't mean to be such a pussy. I didn't mean to almost get us arrested so close to sunrise. I DiDn'T mEaN To!" Severen mocked in a whiny voice before pointing at him with narrowed eyes. "Because of yer damn hesitatin' bullshit; we had to forfeit our fuckin' wheels and probably have a man hunt on our heads ALL a half an hour before sunrise."

Caleb scoffed. "That happened hours ago!"

Severen acted like he was going to go over and DB grabbed his jacket sleeve and yanked him back. "Don't you fuckin' sass me, boy! We had to WALK all these hours too, now didn't we?!"

"I think my shoes have a hole in them now from walkin' MILES tonight. All because he's too much of a wuss to make kills!" Homer grumbled.

"I'm sorry, alright?! I didn't think I had the right time to kill em! I didn't want to get us caught!"

Severen released an outraged, sarcastic laugh as Homer practically growled at Caleb for the comment.

DB shook her head. "Well now, isn't that ironic? It's always the right time. You make the kill and you make it fast. Because you hesitated tonight; someone called the law on us quicker than we could spit."

"Guys, just leave him alone." Mae mumbled, holding onto him as she spoke. "He's killed before he's just learning! We got our stuff, we got away. That's what's important."

"What's important is the sun comin' up!" Homer spat.

"Well, how about instead of fear mongerin' ya'll relax? Stressing out and pointing fingers ain't gonna make the sun come up any slower." She rubbed Caleb's arm. "Besides, we've went through worse."

A huff sounded behind her as she stared at Severen. "Twenty bullet holes later and a new bounty on our heads in this State. First time in decades after everyone died out or forgot the last one. Having t' escape out the back of that shithole bar. Camper surrounded by pig wagons." Severen grumbled, spitting on the ground and pushing his hair away from his face. "Had to break in a window just to grab our shit."

Mae rolled her eyes. "I thought you of all people here liked danger, Severen."

"That ain't the problem, Mae." Severen retorted. "Okay, it ain't the fact I had to dodge some fatass cops. It ain't walkin all this way. It ain't even missing some junk I had to leave behind." He walked over and leaned over to glare at Caleb specifically. "It's the fact this walkin' talkin' shitstain keeps being nothin' but dead weight draggin' us all down." He kicked Caleb with his boot as he walked away to pace, eyeing the sky looking a lighter dark blue now.

DB added. "Severen's right, Mae. It ain't what we had to do tonight but why we had to do it...Now, the sun's comin' up and you better hope not a single cop got a good enough look at Severen to track us down. Not while we're at a disadvantage...Again." She gave, a tense expression to Caleb then towards the sky as the slightest light blue color just got lighter on the horizon.

Homer furiously shook his head with a whimper, rushing over to DB as she brushed his hair from his face. Holding him close and shushing him.

Severen suddenly marched over and pluck Caleb from the ground by his jacket. Hissing as he shoved Caleb against a pillar.

"Severen, don't!" Mae begged, standing up and grabbing Severen's arm.

"Should just leave you out in the sun to bake whether we get a room or not! We've gave you chance after chance boy and the only thing you did worth a damn was the van incident over a week ago...I'm thinkin' I need to take my spur back and shove it down yer damn throat!" He barred his teeth as Mae grabbed his arm and yanked it off her boyfriend.

"He's tryin', okay!" Mae exclaimed. "He drank the blood he just fumbled this one kill!"

He turned to grab Caleb again before Jesse's voice ran out to them. "Enough of that, Severen. Don't get too riled up and lose the time."

Everyone looked to see Jesse near the door with a displeased expression on his face. DB hopped off the trash bin and led Homer with her. Severen dropped Caleb on the ground like a sack of potatoes as Caleb groaned and jerked his jacket back in place, Mae instantly rushing to help him up.

"Took you long enough, Jess." Severen griped as he walked to the door.

"Yeah well...It's gonna be a long day. I'd rather not have Mae cryin' through it. As much as it'd be deserved who she's cryin' for." He muttered, eyeing Caleb as the sky behind them turned a light pink.

Homer shoved into the building while Severen hauled their bags and followed. DB stood outside a moment as Jesse opened the door for her. "What's the matter?" She asked.

He sighed. "Damn motels are gettin harder to get. Ran out of rooms so...We had to compromise."

"Compromise?" He just put a hand on her shoulder and led her in before calling out to Caleb and Mae.

"If you don't wanna burst into flames; I'd say you got 5 minutes or less to get yer asses in here."

Caleb frowned but nodded as he and Mae walked their way to the door. Jesse gave Caleb a glare as he walked in behind them and Caleb just kept his head down.

They made it to the room and Severen sat all their stuff down with a perplexed look. Homer was already in the bathroom and yelling about something when everyone else walked in.

"...Jess?"

"Yeah, Severen?"

Severen rubbed the back of his neck with a disbelieving smirk. Clearly close to losing his shit after tonight. "Uh, there's one bed. Why the fuck is there one damn bed?? And no chairs? Where the Hell is the furniture???"

"THERE'S NO TUB!!" Homer yelled from the bathroom before rushing out, demanding an explanation. "There's no tub just a floor and a drain! Why, Old Man?!"

"Compromise." Jesse sighed out. "Only room left was half the price. It's being renovated into a honeymoon suite with only one King. They haven't installed the big tub yet."

"Oh well, half price!" Severen sarcastically laughed out as he sat on it, slumping as the hours passing by instantly started zaping their energy.

Mae's eyes darted to everyone. "W-Well. We're tired, we gotta sleep."

DB gave Severen a raised brow and Severen groaned and flopped on the end of the bed.

Caleb huffed as he got closer. "We gotta share a bed?...All of us?"

Severen kicked him away. "You can sleep on the floor like a dog for all the shit you put us through tonight."

Mae held onto Caleb's arm and glared at Severen. "Then we'll sleep on the floor together."

"Of course you will...Move over." Homer griped before making a running leap and flopping next to Severen laying horizontal on the bed.

Caleb looked at them with a frown as Mae led him to sleep on the ground with her near the bed. Using one of the bags as a pillow and Caleb's Jacket as a blanket.

DB and Jesse took the head of the bed, Jesse at the headboard and DB in-between him and Homer. Everyone tried settling in as the sun was probably visible in the sky by now if anyone had checked.

Time passed before Homer shoved at Severen. "Move your arm off my space, Clydesdale!"

Severen jerked, elbowing Homer in the side. "Aw sorry there, lil buddy. I thought pocket sized meant you didn't need all that space?"

Homer jerked up and aggressively fluffed his pillow before he tossed himself back down to face DB instead.

DB got comfortable next to Jesse but Jesse moved his arm and accidentally hit Homer right in the face with the back of his hand. Homer shoved it away.

Just when everything seemed fine about an hour passed and all hell broke lose waking everyone up when Homer smacked Severen right on the forehead. Severen's snoring was cut off as he jerked awake and sat up to glare daggers at Homer.

"Wha...Hey! Why the fuck did ya do that for, ya lil boner?!"

"You're BREATHING your hot ass breath in my face while snoring like a timber saw! I can't sleep!"

"Hommeerrrr." Jesse growled out in a warning, half asleep and groggy.

Severen didn't even hesitate to rip the pillow out from under Homer's head. "Maybe I'd snore less if I was elevated; why are you the one with a pillow, Precious?" He mocked with a sneer.

Severen laid down with it, fluffing it and reclining with a smirk. "Now THAT is better."

Homer's eye twitched before he grabbed that pillow out from under Severen's head and tried shoving it across his face. Holding it down with his weight and superhuman strength as Severen's body tensed up and he tried reaching for Homer's neck.

"Stop it, stop it, stop it." DB scolded, grabbing Homer by the shoulder and jerking him off before shoving Severen back down when he went to retaliate. "Now, we're all gonna sleep. Alright?"

Homer and Severen glared at each other as they laid back down but Homer yanked his pillow back from Severen and slept the opposite way; his legs near Severen's head and his head near Severen's legs.

It wasn't long before Homer shoved at Severen's legs in irritation and Severen kneed him in the head as the bed rocked and they both shoved each other away.

Jesse shot up. "Severen! If you don't stop yer goddamn shit-"

Severen sat up and motioned to Homer. "It ain't me! Jess, yer not plum up against Homer while trying not to fall off the end of the bed!"

"....Oh for godsakes- FINE. Me and Diamondback will take the middle of the bed and Homer takes the end."

Homer scoffed loudly. "Why do I get the end?!"

Jesse gave Homer a tired glare and Homer relented. Grumbling the entire time as Severen got up and he slid into Severen's spot. Everyone moved down as Severen got the headboard.

"What's all that racket?" Mae tiredly asked from the floor as DB answered. "Nothin'. Everyone go back to sleep."

Time went on of everyone laying there, trying to get comfortable. It seemed like they finally found something that worked until a huge thud was sounded throughout the room followed by curses.

"What in the goddamn hell?-" Jesse grumbled as everyone got woken up by Homer cursing.

Homer shot up from the floor with a loud, irritated groan. "This is stupid!"

"No ones fault but yer own, Homer." Severen mumbled with his eyes still closed. "As usual."

Caleb and Mae woke up to see Homer march over to Severen and try to shove him off. "Move! I'm not sleeping on the end!"

"Well I'm not either, kid!"

"ENOUGH!" Jesse yelled, slamming his first on the bed as he got up to stand. "Since you two wanna act like a bunch of ingrates; I'll take the end with Severen. Diamondback will sleep vertical with Homer at the headboard. Got it?!"

Caleb watched something snap in Homer as he grabbed Severen to hit him as Severen tossed him off onto the floor. "I told you never call me that!"

Everyone silently glared at each other but relented, Severen being the first to roll his eyes with a sigh and get up. Everyone got into their position, Homer going to sleep above Jesse as he and DB dangled their shorter legs to either side of the bed while Jesse and Severen laid horizontally across the bottom opposite each other.

It was a restless day as everyone seemed to wake up early, groaning and uncomfortable. Homer woke up half off the bed, Jesse woke up with Homer's leg over his chest and Severen woke up with DB knees on his shoulder and DB half off the bed herself.

Jesse gave a tired look and shoved Homer's legs off while DB stretched and got off Severen. "Sorry." She mouthed to Severen as he sighed and sat up, rubbing his eye with a groan. "Don't matter none. I think we all slept like shit...Still beats being woken up by the feds at yer door."

Homer groaned with a stretch and nodded.

They all sat up to see Caleb and Mae already up and chipper. Mae smiled at Caleb. "Who knew the floor could be so comfortable?"

Caleb laughed and kissed her forehead. "Better with you."

All while everyone gave them tired glares.

[folliesandfolderols]

Writing prompts day 9

From this prompt list. I set a goal of writing at least 150 words per day in 2024, which sounds pretty pathetic but if you take into account the fact that I haven't written any fiction since 2019 it felt like a feasible target. Anyway I've finished the first draft (it topped out at 88k words) and will be unlocking each post as I edit.

read from the beginning here

Day 8 here

***

71. "How are you feeling?"

***

They all had nightmares, and they almost all had protocols for how they were supposed to be woken up in case they dreamed around someone else.

Dick didn't react badly to being touched, so usually a hug was the right choice until he opened his eyes.

Jason had to be left utterly alone until he woke himself up, and then sometimes whoever was with him was allowed to sit next to him without talking while he clutched the knife under his pillow and pretended he wasn't pressing into their side.

Steph needed someone to call her from safely out of arm's reach, and then hold her hand while she stared at the ceiling.

Cass dreamed silently, without providing a clue of what was happening in her sleeping mind. Her companions only knew she'd had a bad dream if she chose to tell them.

Duke would wake himself up and then talk about literally anything else. It was the job of the person with him to laugh at his jokes and act like nothing had happened.

Damian was mean as a snake for a good half hour after being awoken from nightmares unless it was Dick who did it, so whoever was with him had to be careful not to be caught checking on him.

And Tim . . .

Well, Bernard had just straight-up called it creepy, though only in the most affectionate way when Tim was past the worst of it. Tim couldn't disagree with the description. His brain wouldn't shut down even in the middle of relived trauma, and he usually ended up talking out loud in his sleep, so whoever was nearby got half of whatever dialogue he was trapped in. He'd had a lot of run-ins with talkative villains, people who preferred to frame their violence with words. So if he was having a bad dream, usually the best way to help him was to talk back, to tell him he was safe and it was over.

Of course, none of that helped when he wasn't dreaming, like right now. Standing in his father’s apartment. His father lay on the floor opposite Captain Boomerang.

“Oh God . . . oh God, not again . . .” he quavered in the doorway. “I'll get it out . . . I'll get help . . .”

You should've .  .  . tried harder . . . Jack whispered.

You weren't drafted, his own voice added. You waltzed right in and demanded this role. So why are you so bad at it? No answer? Beautiful. Then we'll just have to run it again, won't we?

“You think this is a game?” Tim demanded.

Wow. Fifty-two times and not even close. Not once.

His father lay dead on the floor again.

“I can save you, Dad- - you just have to trust me. I can do it--I have to do it!” he panted out.

Face it, Bird Boy, you can't save anyone. You’ll get everyone you know killed someday. It's just too bad that your best was never good enough.

His father lay dead on the floor again. 

Batman didn't have any training when his father died- - what’s your excuse? Stephanie sneered. Now stay back before you get anyone else killed!

“Stephanie, wait!” he shouted after her. “You can't do this! You're one of my best friends! I can't lose you too - -”

You wanted to carry the world on your wings, little Robin . . . the doppelgänger rasped.

His family lay dead on the floor.

How do you even go on breathing? the other Tim asked, acid in every word.

“Leave me alone,” Tim cried, but none of it made any difference because they were dead again, they were always dead on the floor and it was always his fault--

"Ssh," a voice said in his ear, low and soothing. "You're home. You don't have to save anyone tonight."

Tim sobbed and curled into a ball. Everything was so cold and he would never see anyone he loved ever again--

But heat curved to press against his back and wrapped around his chest, pulling him close to the person still murmuring reassurances. "You're no longer there. You're in your Nest and there are no active threats to the others. They're finished with patrol and in bed."

With another shuddering sob, Tim finally woke fully and pushed his body even more tightly against Damian's. The dark surrounding them was a relief when he still saw the bodies sprawled in puddles of blood every time he blinked.

"I'm awake," he whispered when his voice started working again. "Thanks."

Damian brushed a kiss against his temple. "How are you feeling?"

"My head hurts but that's it. Fuck. I'm so glad I'm not really there." Tim overlay Damian's arm with his own and pulled it closer to his chest.

"As am I."

day ten here

[coolcattime]

heyyy coolcat! I’ve had this story concept sitting on a back burner and I’m honestly not sure if I’ll ever get around to writing it but who knows maybe. I wanted to share it with you, cause I think you’ll like it, also it's my second time sending it cause my internet is being weird

A mishap with the priest nether portal sends Mot to the nether, but Spark in an attempt to go after him now has to deal with some unforeseen consequences. (It actually sends Mot to Ruxmor but they don’t know that yet)

He’s not sure where he’s standing, if he’s standing at all. Equal parts dark and light. Too much yet not enough. Through the terrifyingly loud silence, there is crying. It’s so close to him and he— likes to think it’s in his nature to help out, that’s what Dagrun was built for, what it represents to him— reaches out to whoever or whatever is near him. It reaches back and

He wakes up on the other end of the portal. Swelling heat and humidity overwhelm him instantly. Netherrack and soulsand now stuck under his fingernails, which both ground him and leave him with a gross feeling.

Not long after this is when the remaining alts find out their lady ianite died. Spark having a physical reaction as it happens and Alyssa and Jeriah being told after the fact. Spark begins to act strangely, the other two chalk it up to it being grief. The longer it goes on the more they realize something is wrong with him.

Alyssa wakes up thirsty. It’s difficult for her to find the will to move from the warmth of her blanket— so nice and cozy, it’s heavy against her, she…can almost…fall…back asleep. How unfortunate that the need to drink water is much much stronger. And oh no! What if she dehydrates right then and there, who will listen to her dad’s tale of getting lost in the new nether.

Reluctant as she may be, she steps out of bed and makes her way downstairs. Bundled up in two layers of long sleeves and fuzzy pajamas pants, she takes a quiet and slow pace down the steps.

She is standing just outside of the kitchen, it’s dark and she has a hard time seeing but she recognizes Sparks figure, which is hunched over the sink, probably doing the dishes. Jeriah had told her to do them, which wasn’t even fair since it was his turn anyways. He only pushed the chore on her because he was getting old and lazy. She told him so too, he hadn’t exactly been the happiest to hear that. Denied it all the way to bedtime.

Yet here is her grandpa doing the chore in their stead. She hadn’t seen him in days, both her and Jeriah had given him space, maybe a bit selfish of her but she’s glad to see him here even if it is the dead of night. Good to know he didn’t perish in his room, it’s certainly a positive.

She walks past him and grabs a glass, pouring herself some water from a pitcher on the counter. It’s only then that Alyssa sees that there are no dishes in the sink—by the looks of it, they have been washed, dried and put away. There is only water. Spark is hunched over in the sink, elbow deep in the water. She’s pretty sure you aren’t supposed to wake a person who’s sleepwalking but she can’t tell if he’s awake or not in the first place. She knows better than most what depression can do to a person. She’s seen her dad at his worst for years now, and she’s met that pirate from Atheoria. Not someone she’ll willingly interact with again, honestly.

She knows that this is about Spark’s wife. The woman who was is now just a faint memory to Alyssa. The only Ianite she knows is the one here. She doesn’t dare tell Spark that, especially not now.

The longer it goes on the more they realize something is wrong with him...

It had started with small moments. Spark couldn’t remember how he got to the basement, or he could not recall why he opened the front door, and embarrassingly enough he had once found himself halfway over the dock railing. Now he finds himself near the huge treehouse, Jeriah standing over him axe in hand. He had pushed him into the snow trying to wrangle the axe out of Sparks hands.

The cold heat makes him sweat. The beginning symptoms of a fever, one that’s been on the verge of starting for months now. The snow both cools and burns him. It does everything to help his sense and overwhelms them all the same. There is a contradiction that lies beneath his skin and he has no cure for this new ailment of his.

“I don’t know what your lady would’ve wanted, but I doubt getting smited by another version of her is one of those things.” Jeriah stares down at him, Spark is much too out of it to decipher if it’s anger or sadness. “Why?” He sounds tired, Spark decides. Gods, how late was it?

If Spark were to be truthful he’d say he didn’t care. He felt such steep indifference for the events that were put on pause by Jeriah, he’ll be thankful for it later, but now he truly cannot find it within himself to do something as simple as care. He leaves it at an “I don’t know, Jerry, I don’t—” He’ll later fear that feeling, it’s so unlike him…

A bit more of that happens until it’s Spark himself that gets fed up with it. He reaches out again, this time with a homemade ouija board.

The pencil barely moves, she had answered yes. It had been surprisingly easy to guess whose ghost was haunting him when his only two choices were between a dead chaos god and a dead pirate captain, and he finds himself near water more often than not. Looking at his amateur setup— it’s four ripped pieces of paper each with a different response: yes, no, I don’t know, ask elsewhere. Spark had thought that giving her more answers would make conversing easier. It does not. Regardless of how childish it is they talk as best as they can, they make do.

He had asked if it was difficult to move objects and she had responded with a yes, which was strange to him seeing as she had no difficulty moving him from point a to b. Perhaps there was something he was missing. His setup reminds him of a compass, the way he had placed the responses as points and the pencil as a needle. He looks through his things and finds one. Other than some dust on the glass, it’s in perfect condition.

“Think this’ll be easier?” He moves his arm out to where he guesses she’s standing…? He doesn’t know if ghosts do that. He feels her hand over his and the needle moves much to quickly. All at once her thoughts become his. His thoughts become hers.

There is an overwhelming absence of everything and all she can do is cry.

What was meant to be a temporary house, has now imprisoned him.

Neither was able to see their mission through and now they both exist together in separate spaces, miserable.

Eventually, it will lead to Capsize getting revived, but she doesn’t remember her time in the void space or as a ghost, for the better. But it’s hard for Spark to be angry at her for the distress caused when it was some messed up version of her and not the her that’s been revived. While I do think their relationship starts out strained, I do think that they both grow to have at least a semi-positive opinion on each other. Like Spark doesn’t like Capsize’s methodology of immediately going to tnt and violence when something doesn’t go her way, but she does it with confidence and he can respect that. And Capsize thinks fishing with Spark is enjoyable.

(I named the draft “la posición de mi posesión” and i think it’s fun to say. Also this is the second time I send you such a long ask omfg, thank you for reading it <3)

My apologies, the first time you asked this it did come through. I spent my free time yesterday factory resetting my phone and then playing d&d so I kinda didn't have time to respond.

I really really like this story idea!!! I think the idea of Spark getting possessed/ haunted by Capsize is really awesome.

I really like how the situation starts because Spark reaches out to help because it really feels interesting for him to just reach out to this mysterious presence in the darkness. I think its a really telling thing for a character to do.

I love the idea of Spark having a physical reaction to his Ianite dying even when in a completely different world. And it conesiding with the haunting beginning is such a good touch cause it can be written off at first as grief when it's a bit more of a pressing issue.

The actually haunting is really cool (like all of this is really well written but I particularly like Capsize accidently sending her and Spark to the void when trying to move the compass). And I kind of love how empathic Spark is despite being possessed multiple times. I think the way you've written Spark is really fun since I don't see a lot of him in the fandom.

As always, I love anything where Capsize is revived. I kind of love the description of the relationship between Spark and Capsize you've written since it seems very natural for the two.

Also feel free to write all the long asks you want, I really like reading them ^-^

[jodilin65]

TUESDAY, JULY 30, 1996 Gloria will be performing here in Phoenix tonight. After hearing the lyrics to her song called Destiny, I realized how much we write alike. Especially with lines of hers like, “We live our lives in mystery, while everything is meant to be.” Still, Linda inspired me vocally, while Gloria has inspired me personally.

I have so much to write about, it isn’t funny. I think, though, I’ll wait for a time when Tom’s not here or is asleep. I can concentrate a bit better that way. He’s not gonna be working today or tomorrow which I have mixed emotions about. I mean, I do love to see him and feel we don’t get enough time together, but due to a couple of days ago, which I’ll get into later, I’m wary of being around him for fear I’ll say or do the wrong thing to upset him or that he’ll just suddenly get upset for no apparent reason.

Later…

OK, now that Tom’s headed over to his mom’s house, I can write. He said don’t be surprised if he still calls it his “parents'” house.

No problem. Old habits do die hard and I still think of this computer as his, even though it’s ours.

First of all, today was a great day, so far. Best one we’ve had in a while as far as there not being a million things to do and all that stress hanging over us. We played computer games, then he showed me some things on the computer, then we swam, then we had sex in 3 different positions. He almost came. I could feel he was really close, but like he said, we don’t expect him to cum every time. I don’t even cum every time and he still just went through a heavy-duty ordeal in his life.

I just talked to Jenny, but Sandy and both Larrys weren’t there. I let her know Tom’s dad died and that things have been rough, but that hopefully they’ll simmer down as Tom believes they will.

Jenny says she saves all my envelopes and has a lot of them. Well, that’s nice to know that someone likes my drawings enough to save them.

Piggy’s been squeaking all day and the birds are their usual desperate selves. Tom and I got out of the pool and were standing on the patio when I threw some seeds down. It landed on and around our feet, so the birds were picking out seeds from in between my toes and from under the sides of Tom’s feet, tickling him.

We still haven’t been able to see what pictures or what in the hell you’re supposed to see when you play Gloria’s CD in the CD ROM cuz we have to get a new printer driver, but Tom’s looking to find one from AOL. No luck yet, but he’ll find it.

Tom says that if I ever died, he would follow my request and give Andy typed versions of my journals and keep the written ones and read them and cherish them forever. He said that’d be a big and important piece of me he could hang onto. He also says he’s sure that our kid will read them after I’m gone and I asked him how he felt about the fact that it’d be reading me calling him a liar for over two years. Fine with me, he said.

Got a couple of sympathy cards from my parents and from Andy. That was nice of them and thanks to Tammy, I can count on her to spread any major news around, unless I tell her to keep a lid on it. If we ever told her I was pregnant, would my parents send a congratulation card? No. Of course not. Tom would say it’s their opinion and that’s OK, but deep down I think it’d hurt him. I mean, if they said to me I shouldn’t have a kid cuz they didn’t think I’d be a good mother, that’s telling Tom, in a sense, that he doesn’t have a very good wife and that’s also saying Tom would be a bad father. Would they realize that? Probably not, cuz I doubt they’d care, but I’m not gonna have to worry about that cuz we either won’t be talking to each other or I’d just hang up the phone and not bother listening to any crap they tried to give us. No one’s gonna get in the way of our dreams and spoil a good thing for us (unless God does). We’re adults that can take charge of our own lives, thank you.

Got a nice surprise from Boo and Max. They were at Tammy’s and they sent me a quick hello message. I’m surprised they’d go visit Tammy. I mean, I knew they always got along just fine. It’s just that I didn’t think they’d bother or that Tammy would bother to invite them. Anyway, before I got their message, I thought that it was about time I sent them a letter just to say hi. Them and Goldie & Al.

Now, before I get into yesterday and the day before that, let me get Andy’s Dave story out of the way so I don’t feel like I lied to him about documenting it.

He met him through some friends of his and he says he’s a million times better looking than Quinn who he thinks is gorgeous. So, as far as he and everyone knew, he never mentioned being with a woman and he and other people said there might be a chance he’s gay. So, Andy was so into him after only seeing him once and talking to him about two times, that Andy would literally kick Laura out and let him move in. That’s quite hasty to me, but sure enough, the guy hasn’t returned his calls and Andy’s lost all hope.

Why does God insist Andy be alone forever, just like he insists we be childless forever? Speaking of it, though, I haven’t had that sad, desperate, and angry, damn,-I-can’t-have-a-kid feeling in the longest time since I’ve known Tom, so that’s nice. I guess it’s cuz I know the next step is seeing that I can’t conceive and have already accepted that. I feel more relaxed than I have since being with him since our sex lives were straightened out. It really takes a lot of the stress and the feeling of not being normal or good enough off of me, but I just hope he cums more often than not. We’re at a time now, where we’ll be finding out just how often he cums. Bob asked me about a kid and as far as that goes I told him the truth, we want that, he believes it’s gonna happen, but I doubt it cuz I don’t always believe in miracles.

Anyway, the day before yesterday sucked. Tom was fine one minute and the next I saw him sitting in his chair in the living room, asked what was wrong, and said to leave him alone, so I did. All the while, though, I was asking myself, what did I do? What did I say? He was so contradicting that day and he really hurt me and pissed me off. Of course, he said I did the same thing to him. I told him that I later tried to find out what was wrong cuz I’m his wife and cuz I care about him and want to know what’s eating at him. He said that couples aren’t entitled to tell their spouses everything 24 hours a day what they do or think. He said if I can’t find out what’s wrong with him without fighting with him, then wait till I can. Why do we have to fight for me to find out what’s wrong with him? He also said that I should think about how I take things and be more tolerant of his faults. Well, we can be more tolerant of our faults, but I think we should still work on our faults. He said that when someone has to deal with something, the other should just let them deal with it however they need to and just accept that the other person might get hurt and angry. I don’t totally agree with that. Yes, one should deal with their emotions in their own way, but not hurt others while they’re doing it. That’s not right or fair. He told me that if I cut myself, that’d be hurting him. So, it’s OK for him to hurt me if he has to in order to deal with something, but I can’t? He says I have, though, and I know I’ve said some mean and unfair things during moments where I’ve had my emotional lows, but I’m sorry for hurting him and I intend to keep working on that and make sure I don’t let history repeat itself. He, though, feels he did nothing wrong and that it’s OK to hurt your loved ones if you have an emotional low.

He also says he tries to be as blunt as he can be and doesn’t do innuendoes. Yes, I know he tries to be and I do too.

I still have my fears of having a kid, like most of us do. It is something I still want, but the usual fears are there as far as money goes and our time and privacy together and its effects on the marriage. Are we gonna be able to juggle the relationship between us and the one with the kid? Can we mix the two, and will adding a third party to the picture really work?

I heard a scary story on a talk show, but Tom said it didn’t scare him. I’m glad one of us didn’t get scared by it. This guy abused his daughter and he said he knew it sounded too easy to blame his parents for it. He said his dad used to beat him and he hated him and he swore he’d never be like him, but he was.

Now, I’ll get into yesterday’s events. We went to Mom’s and Mary and Dave were there along with Carol and Steven. Then we went and picked up Cindy, our 34-year-old niece (it’s weird having a niece who’s 4 years older). Then we went to the cemetery which is out in the middle of nowhere. It’s a huge flat cemetery with mountains off in the distance. It was very pretty and well-kept, though. We gathered under a little gazebo-like thing where there were about 20 people. I think I’ve met pretty much all of the family now. I finally met Evelyn, Opal, and Lucy. Opal and Lucy are mom’s sisters.

Then they brought the coffin out of the hearse and placed it in front of us and the Priest or Pastor or whoever did a speech. Then we left. I thought we were gonna then go to a different part of the cemetery and stand by as he was put in the ground, but I guess not. They put the coffin back into the hearse and it left too. Tom says it’ll go back to the funeral home, then back there to be buried. It was unlike any other funeral I’ve ever been to and I’ve been to 4; Pa’s uncle, then 3 of my grandparents’.

I talked to Tammy a little while ago, who said Boo & Max always keep in touch. I guess they really do like her better, as they said in their message to me, cuz they never keep in touch with me. My dad and everyone like to remind me of how much they like others better than me. And although they mean it in a teasing way, there is more than a grain of truth to that. I’ve only had contact with Boo & Max twice since being out here. That time I called them in ‘92 shortly after I arrived here when they sent me money to help me out and then when they sent a wedding card with $50 in ‘94. I’ve sent them 2 or 3 letters since I’ve been here.

SUNDAY, JULY 28, 1996 Tom did pick up Gloria’s new CD. It sucks so far, but there’s one song called Reach that seems OK. Something I can sing cuz it’s in my range and my style.

He also picked up an additional surprise. A screensaver with clips from a video of hers. It’s from one of my least favorite videos, though, but I guess you can add others to it if you want. It’s pretty cool, though, with about 6 different options as to how you can display it. It’s got ways to bounce one frame/square, then it has trailing frames and the one I like is the wall video (which looks like a bunch of TV screens) where several frames of the same thing keep changing to different things. There are about 30 different things that the frames show and the whole thing is about 30 seconds, then it keeps repeating itself.

I also got a Bob letter yesterday in which he says he has a 41-year-old daughter and a granddaughter.

What?! Since when? I asked him. Is this something he recently found out? Or did he always know? If he always knew, why didn’t he ever tell me? Did he tell Kim? I asked her if she knew anything about it in my letter to her. If he knew he always had a kid, then who was the mother and why didn’t he ever see her? Also, I thought he said he was sterile. He told me that doctors have told him he’d have a one-in-a-million chance to impregnate a woman.

He also told me that he was contacted by his ex-sister-in-law about meeting them when Sandy died, but he said no cuz Kim wouldn’t go with him.

Now that’s low!

I still don’t see how he could have the strength to rape anyone or if it could’ve ever been his cup of tea, but now I’m wondering. All child molesters or rapists have kids.

Instead of waiting for a letter from Minnie to which to reply, I’m sending her a letter. I think I’ll also be sending Goldie & Al and Boo & Max letters, too with artwork on the envelopes.

Gloria’s gonna be singing for the closing ceremonies of the Olympics on August 4th. According to an article on her, she’s getting more and more gay fans due to using those drag queens to do a video for her when she was pregnant. I knew she wasn’t prejudiced. I could just tell.

Tom fixed Evelyn’s cooler yesterday, so that’s where he got part of the money for the Gloria stuff. He’s now still asleep. He said not to wake him unless I need him. He definitely is overdue to sleep till he wakes up on his own and not by the alarm.

Last night he told me to take care of my lungs, cuz I’ve been too wheezy to do things when I get up, when he’s here, and at the end of my day when he’s here. In other words, I guess he was hoping for sex last night. I didn’t think he would be due to the long stressful day, but then again, he does prefer it before bed, regardless of what he says. Once again, though, the thought of him getting off regularly still seems unreal. Perhaps that’s cuz we haven’t had hardly any time to screw, what with all that’s been going on. Therefore, I haven’t been able to see how rare or how common his cumming would be.

Got messages from Tammy and the girls at AOL, so that’s nice. I was wondering if the girls would ever send me messages. They were to Tom, too.

I have a vibe. I guess it’s a vibe anyway. Or a feeling. I don’t know, but there’s something about next April 26th that’s been ringing in my head for about a month now. Well, there’s no use wondering too much about it now since it’s still quite a ways away.

I wonder if Tom will want sex after he gets up. I doubt it. Too early, but I can never know for sure. I just hope to hell that whenever we do, things are still normal enough about it and that God gives us a break for a change. I think we deserve it after all we’ve been through!

SATURDAY, JULY 27, 1996 Oh, great. Just lovely. At 1:30 a.m. Eastern time, someone bombed a public park adjacent to the Olympic Village. Everyone feared this, too, but they say the games will continue. There’s so much terrorism going on. There was the Oklahoma bombing, Flight 800, and now this. They say a little over 100 people were injured and 2 are dead.

Tom spent the day helping his mom out. There were lots of people there.

Evelyn gave Tom some paper to give to me. He says he’s not sure if she knows I draw, though. He’s not sure if he ever told her. It’s white, unlined with 3-ring binder holes punched on the sides of them. I used some to print out journal 99. I had stopped printing out journals after 98. It’s good for printing back-to-back, but I don’t know if I’ll return to printing out journals. I’ll probably use the paper for drafts. For drawing, I’d like to use sketchbooks from now on that’s like the one I’ve got. It’s about the size of this journal, which is my average journal size and is a good size for drawing.

Evelyn’s cooler broke, so Tom’s gonna fix that eventually.

See? I told him it’d still be one thing after another, but he still swears things will be settling down and that his mom will be fine.

I told him hey, if I’m wrong about things settling down and about my being pregnant soon, I’ll fully admit I was wrong just as I did when he came. In fact, Tom says there’s a difference, as far as he’s concerned, between something he plans and something he envisions. He says 75% or more of the things he envisions turn out the way he envisioned them and that he envisions me pregnant real soon and says he’d be really surprised if I weren’t pregnant real soon. Well, more power to him!

Tom may get Gloria’s Destiny CD today cuz now he’s anxious to check it out on the computer, just like I am. If I were back in Springfield with my old life, I’d always wonder about it.

I just remembered what I forgot to write about yesterday. Andy’s encounter with a guy named Dave. Andy really likes the idea of me documenting our talks and his life. I promised to write about the stuff he tells me, but I’ll get to the Dave story later.

FRIDAY, JULY 26, 1996 Andy will be calling back sometime soon. He’s very upset now. Problems with Quinn again. He loves him but deals with so much abuse and head games from him. I kind of wish I could go over there and slap that guy silly, but Andy has to do his own dirty work. He can talk to me all he wants, but in the end, it’s between him and Quinn to do whatever it is they’re gonna do.

Tom spent the day at Mom’s and he went to bed after being up for about 21 hours. The funeral will be on Monday at 12:30 p.m. Nothing fancy and just with 20 or so of the immediate family members. Also, there’ll be a memorial service at a church in about a month.

As I figured, Mom and Dad did call, so I had Tom answer it. That was nice of them and they appropriately didn’t bring me up or ask for me and they put aside our differences. Also, they asked for Tom’s mom’s address cuz they’re gonna be sending her a card. I asked Tom if she got a card from a Dureen and Art O if she’d know who the hell they are and Tom said yes, so that’s good.

Tom’s family believes like Tom and I do that Dad will always be watching over those he knew and loved. Before they took his body away they asked Ma if she wanted to be with him for a few moments and Ma said, “No. That’s not my husband. That’s just a dead body. That’s just the body that he used when he was alive.”

Well, Marty and Ruth got my letter today, I’m sure, and I’m sure that they told my folks as soon as they got it, and due to Tom’s dad dying, that’s all the more reason why they didn’t call. I’m glad, though, that they didn’t call as I figured they wouldn’t, cuz that’d really make me feel awkward and put on the spot.

Tammy sent Tom a message too, through my mailbox saying she’s sorry about his dad, but to remember him for the good memories of him and not those of his last months and that she’s here for him. She also said to give her regards to his “intire” family. I think she meant “entire” family. She makes funny typing mistakes. I usually just tell Tom what she has to say when she sends messages to me unless it’s personal, but this time I printed it out for him.

Later…

Tom just got up a little while ago after getting his much-needed sleep.

We had a hell of a storm last night. Therefore, the backyard and pool are a mess. A big wall of dirt blew in, supposedly, but I didn’t see it. There’s dirt all over the patio, along with bird poop, and the pool is a brown/green color. We lost yet another chunk of the old green rafters which are over the patio in the ferocious wind. The birds love it, though. To them, it’s a big jungle gym.

Andy did call back and we spoke for quite a while. He’s really hurt, confused, and in love with Quinn. Quinn is a selfish, mean, spoiled, abusive low-life of a druggie who lies, leads Andy on, and cuts him down like he’s a piece of dirt. A part of me really wishes I could go over to Quinn’s and let him know that he’s fucked with my friend, so that’s fucking with me. Then I’d really like to give him a few bruises. Just enough to scare some sense into him, or at least enough to scare him out of the shit he’s pulling on Andy. We tried to call him so I could give him a piece of my mind and let him know just what I’m all about and what I could personally do to him, but the little fuck didn’t answer.

I told Andy that this is a twisted person who hates his own self and who’s very immature and Andy does know this.

Andy feels very cursed right now and he really hates his life. I feel really bad for him because, in a sense, his life here in Arizona has been just like his life in Massachusetts.

Tom won’t be working again till Tuesday. He’s in the shower now, then he’s gonna make a few phone calls and head on over to his mother’s house to give Mary a break, who stood overnight last night, and to do anything he can do to help.

It seems like it’s been forever since we had sex, due to all that’s been going on. Hopefully, we can have our lives back and our sex lives back soon. It doesn’t matter when we screw since I can’t get pregnant anyway. Besides, he still insists there are about 10 days a woman can conceive and not 3. If Tom really believes we’ll have a child, like he’s been saying, I just realized something. He may want to have the child in this house, which is in his name, and then move if things work out. I realized that he may really be afraid deep down that a kid will ruin our marriage or that I’ll be a bad mother, although he wouldn’t tell me he felt I’d be a lousy wife for as long as he did, what’s to say he isn’t necessarily gonna tell me he really thinks I’d be a lousy mother if he really ever thinks that?

Thank God the storm was last night, cuz I think next door had overnight company. Who knows what kind of noise they would’ve stirred up if the weather had been nice? Anyway, two vehicles just left. I heard about 5 or 6 doors shut and their music was barely audible, so that’s cool.

I amazingly received stuff from Gloria’s fan club yesterday. A newsletter with 4 shitty pictures and an audiocassette of her doing an interview. At the start of the interview, even she admits the fan club has been off to a slow start (yeah, very slow!), But that they’re getting their act together.

Now both Tom and I can’t wait to get her new album called Destiny. It’s supposed to also be for computers with CD ROM and when played there, pictures of her are supposed to appear. I also want Linda’s latest English album, but not either hers or Gloria’s Spanish ones, since they suck from what I’ve heard. I still want to find out what movie that dream song of Linda’s is from and hunt a copy of that down. I also want to request more songs from the 70s station and hope I get lucky enough to have those requests played.

THURSDAY, JULY 25, 1996 I’m not doing too well with not smoking. Yesterday I had 10 in the 19 hours I was up. I’ve only been up for 3 hours so far, but have had 5. Like I told Tom, the only way I could ever quit smoking would be by force. Of course, I’d have constant panic attacks and the cravings would never go away. It’s totally swapping one misery for another. Tom said it’ll be a better misery that won’t last long. I disagree. A good 95% of the time it’s not a better misery, nor will I ever stop constantly wanting to smoke.

I think in the end, the only thing I can do, and the best thing I can do is just wait and see if I can get pregnant in the first place, then just let Tom force me off. I can’t go jumping the gun and worry about the future or this soon-to-be pregnancy that I still believe can never happen and will never happen.

Tom says his dad’s gonna die now to a couple of days from now. The nurse gave him sleeping pills over 24 hours ago and he still hasn’t woken up. They say he’s in the final phase of this kind of cancer and that there’s some name for it too, that Tom forgot. Anyway, he’s expected to never wake up. His lungs are so filled with fluid that they make this horrible gurgling sound when he breathes, which he can barely do.

Tom said he also opened his eyes for a second as he stood over him and his eyes were white and glazed over with the look of death, so he’s pretty much gone.

Later…

Dad’s gone.

Mary called at 3:30 to say that Dad stopped breathing and they called the hospice nurse to confirm things, then the funeral home will come and get him. They had gotten plots for both Mom and Dad in Chandler, but Dad will probably be buried in a VET cemetery in Phoenix cuz he was a World War 2 vet. After Ma goes, of course, she’ll be buried next to him. Phoenix is running out of room for burial plots due to the way Phoenix has grown. I had asked Tom if there’d eventually be no room to bury people on this earth, but he explained to me how land gets re-used. After a couple of hundred years, the bodies and coffins deteriorate.

Tom says he’s glad it’s finally over and I agree. Now he’s not suffering anymore, and the stress will be lifted off everyone. Tom says this is the easy part. Especially since he, like everyone else, knew this was coming. He says it was the part where everyone’s stress and his ongoing suffering were hard.

We both also believe that although his body is dead, he’s not dead. His spirit will always watch over those he knew.

I’ll call Tammy in a little while and let her know.

Later…

I called Tammy and she said tell Tom she’s sorry and that she sends her best.

Andy also called saying the same thing and that all kinds of things have been going on in his life over the last month. He said he understood that now wasn’t the best time to get into it and I promised to call him late tonight.

He knows I do want to hear all about it and that I haven’t forgotten him, but I’m getting pretty beat now. Tom knows to wake me up if he needs me but told me there’s nothing I can really do now. There’s nothing anyone can really do now. It’s over. But it’s not over with his mother. I still firmly believe it’s the beginning of a whole new long and drawn-out process. This is cuz I can’t see how things will be as simple as just setting his mom up with whatever she needs and then she’ll be on her own. I still feel that there are only so many things she’ll need that we can set up for her. Meanwhile, someone’s got to take care of the things that aren’t just a matter of being able to be set up for her. Someone’s got to mow her lawn. Someone’s got to drive her wherever she needs to go until and unless there’s a service that can drive her around, and I know it’s gonna be mainly Tom that’s gonna have to do all this stuff. Except for Tom and Mary, all the other family members don’t do shit unless they’re asked. They don’t just volunteer and Ma hates asking people for favors unless she really has to and I know she’d prefer asking Tom first and Mary second.

I did another fairly decent drawing of a girl. I tried to draw more, but luck ran out.

WEDNESDAY, JULY 24, 1996 I’ve only had 1 cigarette in the last 5 hours and boy, is it miserably hard!! It’s totally swapping one misery for another and smoking is constantly on my mind. I can’t even go 10 minutes without thinking about it. Tom keeps talking as if we’re 100% guaranteed to have a kid and says that when I’m pregnant, I must quit smoking, that’s a must, that’s part of the responsibility of being a mother-to-be, no ifs, ands, or buts. He makes it sound like it’s possible for me to quit. If it were that possible, I’d have quit long ago. Then he says that I have to think about what’s more important to me. It’s not that a kid is less important to me, it’s that he’s asking me to do something I can’t do and that’s impossible for me to do. He once said being able to quit smoking and managing to accomplish quitting is no big thing or big deal. Oh yeah?! If only he knew! If only he knew how awful I feel now.

I have so many mixed feelings right now. One’s saying I should try my hardest to quit now, cuz the sooner the better no matter what happens in life. Two’s saying I should wait to quit if I ever get pregnant, cuz that may give me the most encouragement ever as far as being able to quit goes. I feel the 3rd thing the strongest and that’s saying, I’ll never get pregnant and I know it, so why don’t I just smoke till I die.

Later…

I prayed to God to please give me the strength to say no to any cravings I have for a cigarette, but obviously, he wouldn’t help me, cuz I just smoked my second cigarette in 5 hours. Tom told me that I don’t have a choice whether or not I smoke during pregnancy and I told him that the only way I could quit smoking is by force. I asked him if he’d be willing to refuse to buy cigarettes if I were pregnant and he said yes. Then I asked if he’d be willing to refuse to buy cigarettes after I finish the 7 packs I have (you know, that tough love kind of thing) and he said yes and why don’t I make those 7 packs last 2 weeks.

Again, here are my choices and or opinions.

Quit now.

Quit after I finish what I’ve got.

Quit if I get pregnant.

Come back to earth and remember - I can’t ever get pregnant, so keep on smoking.

TUESDAY, JULY 23, 1996 Tom seemed to wake up in a good mood, but now I don’t know. I was trying to tell him about ants I saw yesterday in the yard, then he bitches about the way I explained the situation and interrupted him.

Well, he ought to practice what he preaches and not interrupt me if he doesn’t want to be interrupted himself.

I went and typed a description of all my journal covers at the start of each journal I typed. Of course, this is omitting any letter journals I never typed up.

I also taped a few new songs off of KHITS. I’d like to call them to request a few songs, but what’s the point? They’ll never play them.

My thighs are very stiff and sore today, but I can’t figure out why. What did I do yesterday to cause them to be sore? Nothing that I can think of.

I began typing this book up, but of course, I won’t add it to its group till it’s finished.

MONDAY, JULY 22, 1996 Tom’s spending the night at his parents' house. He called a couple of hours ago and it sure was a trip down Memory Lane for us to when we first met.

I just tried calling Andy, but he’s on the phone.

Tom still thinks I’ll have 1 or 2 more periods before I get pregnant. We’ll see.

Got an AOL message from Tammy. She and her family still plan on leaving for Florida on August 4th, leaving on her birthday, and returning the next day on the 17th.

Otherwise, not much else has happened since I last wrote. Robin was right again about next door. No parties. Now let’s just see her and Tom be right about you know what.

I’m so envious of these women’s bodies who do gymnastics. I wish I looked like they do. I just cannot stick to any form of exercise to save my life, but I can’t make anyone force me to do so. I certainly can’t discipline myself, either.

Later…

Tom just called again and said he may call again, but no guarantees. I was asking him if he was getting used to sleeping in spurts since according to him, that’s what we’ll both be doing in about a year if all goes well. He said we’ll manage, cuz we make a good team. I told him the worst that could happen is that I’ll die, but at least I’d know the kid would be left with a great dad.

Due to my fear of spiders, I’ll have to remember to put my mail out when it’s light.

I hope I hear from Anna & Harry again.

I left Andy a message, who was on the phone when I called.

Tom picked up a pen for himself today and two more of these kinds (Precise) for me in black and blue. I was gonna use the blue pen after this one dies, but I don’t know cuz it bleeds through. I may use a Bic blue pen.

I wish Precise made pink pens.

Lately, we go broke between paydays (probably cuz of his damn parents), but due to getting that $100 at Evelyn’s, we’re doing fine.

My movie will be done taping in a half-hour. So, for now, I’ll go play computer games or read or whatever.

Later…

Tom and Andy haven’t called back and I watched the movie. Just another typical and predictable horror movie.

I wonder sometimes if we could’ve had a kid, would she or he ever have gotten a hold of these journals after I was gone? And if so, would she or he ever read these? I doubt it. I doubt anyone would really care to read someone else’s journals. Maybe skim through them, though. If I died right now, the only person I can see maybe reading them would be Andy. I doubt Tom would find these interesting at all. Andy and I speak more of the same language, therefore, Tom would probably be bored stiff reading these, if he even had the time.

Later…

Tom just called for the third time and probably the last time.

He disagrees with what I said about not thinking others would want to read others’ journals and about him being bored stiff if he read these. He also believes that the kid he believes we’ll have will read my journals someday. I’ve been having a feeling, actually, that someday my journals will be read by someone, but I don’t know who. Well, I’m not gonna worry about it or let that feeling stop me from saying whatever I have to say.

I wonder how Tom feels about the idea of a child of ours reading the journals where I called him a liar or about our sex lives. I believe I once mentioned the sex part of it to him and he said he wasn’t worried since kids grow up to have sex lives, too. If we ever do have a kid, I’ll have to hide these from it as long as I’m alive. Then again, probably not. After asking myself if I’d have liked to have read my mother’s journals if she kept one, I'd say the answer is no. Except for maybe the parts about me. I think if my parents, Tom, Tammy, Andy, or anyone else I know or have known let me have access to any journals they wrote, I’d take them, but more than likely, I’d skim through most of them.

In shock, I still find myself wondering why I’m so lucky to have Tom and why he loves me so much as I know he does and why he wants to be with me forever as I also know he does. I know I’ve been a bit hard on him for a handful of reasons and I know I’m not the perfect wife or person, but for the most part, I know I’m a good person and a good wife and he’s a great person and great husband.

It should be just about light enough for me to see to stick my mail out, so I’m gonna go do that now. Also, my birds should be waking up. I played with Piggy, so now it’s time to entertain the birds.

SUNDAY, JULY 21, 1996 Tom’s gonna change Piggy’s cage tomorrow.

Tom got $100 at Evelyn’s which is great, but his folks are still feeling shitty.

Also, Tom hurt his back at Evelyn’s. See how nice and fair God is? He gave Tom a hurt back for helping Evelyn. And no wonder God favors murderers. He’s a murderer himself what with talking 230 lives in that plane crash and so many other innocent people’s lives around the world.

Later…

I was wrong about where Tom got the ribbon from. He didn’t get it from his mother. He got it from Mary who got it at work. He says Mary says they’ll be giving away more stuff at her work that we might be able to get our hands on.

I told Tom all about the letter to Marty and why I’m sending it. He listened, and then told me he doesn’t agree with it and thinks it’s wrong, but I’m free to do as I please. I respect that and that’s fair.

I also asked him some questions, since he seems to be an expert. He said he thinks it probably took Evie a few months to conceive. He also says we don’t have to plan on having sex on or around mid-cycle cuz being able to conceive has a broad time frame, like 10 days. I hope he’s right, cuz I’ve always heard differently and Robin mentioned all that stuff about God arranging for me to be mid-cycle on weekends. He also said I would have PMS just like usual if I got pregnant just before. He says PMS (the water retention part) has nothing to do with conceiving and that the water is to prepare to make a water sack for a baby if a baby’s been conceived. If a baby hasn’t been conceived, you get your period and the water gets flushed out. No wonder women gain weight at the beginning of pregnancy. It’s cuz of all the water. He also says it’s not that the hormones are completely different, but that the levels fluctuate and no, it won’t alter my personality or drive me crazy. So does this mean that pregnant women use that and the different hormone levels as an excuse to be bitchy? I can see being pregnant making you uncomfortable or terrified, especially if it’s your first time, but not bitchy, cuz you’re supposed to be happy at that time. Why would anyone want to be bitchy, sad, or mad anyway, without a legit excuse or if they’ve got a medical problem?

As usual, there’s nothing worth watching on TV. Guess I’ll go set up the VCR to tape tomorrow’s women’s gymnastics.

SATURDAY, JULY 20, 1996 I had a brief, yet pleasant enough talk with Tom about what I wrote the day before. In fact, Tom read the previous date’s writing.

He still totally disagrees with me and knows for a fact that one, I’m not sterile and two, I will be pregnant in September or October. Well, I don’t see it, but let’s hope he’s right just like he was about his cumming. I tried to adopt more of an optimistic attitude, but as you can see, that’s easier said than done. Most things, I don’t believe till I see, but if I’m proven wrong on something, then I believe. I told Tom that as each thing happens that I said wouldn’t or couldn’t believe, then I won’t be so pessimistic on that particular thing, but other things that haven’t happened yet, then yes, I’m pessimistic all right.

His parents are doing lousy. Ma can’t handle Dad physically and is very weak and arthritic herself due to all the stress. Tom thinks she’ll get better after Dad goes, but that’s where Mary and I disagree. He said his dad gets weaker by the day and much more out of it.

Mary’s staying overnight tonight, so Tom’s sleeping in bed.

I know that it’s not a very cool thing for me to still be angry at Uncle Marty or anyone else from my past. I should be big enough to tell myself that it’s done and over with and to just forget the past and the past people, but I guess you could say that’s one of my weaknesses and faults. I don’t always let go of the past like I should. I’m not as bad as I used to be, but still, I should keep on doing what I’ve been doing and not have anything to do with Marty. I just can’t, though. For some reason, my letting him know I could take him in a fight nowadays, really releases just about all of the anger I’ve had towards him for threatening me. I’m also kind of pissed at myself, too, and embarrassed for being a little wuss back then and for taking it and for just letting him get away with threatening me like he did. Why didn’t I clobber him? I should have. At that time I’m sure he could’ve clobbered me right back, but it would’ve been worth it to know I tried and didn’t just stand there and take it like a wimp.

I’m not mad anymore at Ronnie cuz I gave him a piece of mind back in 1986 or so. He ended up getting so scared of me that he changed his phone number.

I feel much better now, knowing I’ve talked to Larry and am sending this letter. Anyone else I’ve had problems with is done and over and in the past.

I promise myself this and anyone else who cares to listen and that’s that if I ever have any problems with being threatened by any more family members, neighbors, or anyone, I will jump their ass. I may lose or I may win, but there won’t be any words or threats coming out of my mouth. Only actions will there be.

So, Marty and Ruth are neighbors to my parents, huh? According to Information, they live in the same condos as my parents do. Of course, my parents will hear all about the letter and probably even read it, but I couldn’t care less.

I wonder if I should tell Tom about the letter and why I’m sending it? Maybe I should wait cuz I don’t want Tom to get all worried as he can get paranoid just like I can but in a different way. Also, I’m quite sure there’ll be no response from anyone about it. My parents and Marty and Ruth will be telling so many hundreds of people about it, that by the time they get around to calling me about it, I’m sure they’ll be really damn sick of discussing the subject.

I just remembered something weird. I sang at my funny farm graduation. I sang My Time Has Come. The stupid song I wrote when I was 15. I wonder why they let me sing. I mean, my voice sucked back then. I was a million times worse on my best singing days then, than I am on my worst singing days now.

I’m gonna take a break now to call AOL and see if I have any mail.

Later…

No mail for me, but I left Tammy a message.

Where the fuck are our stamps? Did that fucking mailman misdeliver them? Well, either Tom or myself intend to call the post office tomorrow and find out what the hell is going on. They better not have given them to fucking next door! If they did that or gave them to some other house, how the hell are we gonna prove that? They should’ve been here Wednesday, so I hope to hell they come tomorrow.

I watched some of the opening ceremonies of the Olympics. The only part of it I want to see is the women’s gymnastics.

Well, I’m getting really beat now and can barely see. With all the crying I did today, my eyes are blurred up big time, so I think I’ll hit the sack. I just hope to hell that the cramps I know I’m gonna wake up with aren’t too bad.

Later…

Naturally, I did get my period today and am not too bad in the way of cramps, so that’s good. Besides, I just pop an Ibuprofen when my cramps act up.

The stamps came, so that’s good. Tomorrow I’ll have letters going out to Kim, Bob, Larry, and Marty.

I hope to get a letter from Minnie soon, but who knows?

Later…

I just had to take a few minutes out to take a dump.

Anyway, what I’ll probably do is this. I am gonna get my parents an anniversary card and when I go to pick that up, along with Tammy’s birthday card, I’ll get a postcard and tell Marty how sorry I am for accusing him of leaving that message and that the person whose voice sounded just like his, called me and apologized for accusing me and said that they found out who really called them.

I got caught up on my sleep and feel much better now. I got up at 2 p.m. and am now doing some of the laundry. I’ve got it hanging out on the line. I wanted to get the bulk of it done today cuz I don’t know how much of the morning or late afternoon hours I’ll be awake tomorrow to hang dry stuff. That way, if I have to have Tom dry anything tomorrow, it’ll be one load and mainly sheets.

Robin was right so far. No noise from next door and no Blazer last night or as often. Like I said, I guess she and Mike aren’t seeing each other as much. I hope she doesn’t get a new rap-blasting boyfriend!

Last night Robin made a so-called deal with me. She said she wasn’t gonna tell me which month, but that I’ll be pregnant for sure in either August, September, or October and that if I’m not, she’ll never come near me again. OK, I told her. She said to think about it. Why is it that I haven’t happened to be mid-cycle but only once or twice in the past when it was the weekend? She said why do I suppose that for the last two weekends and the next and maybe even after that, God has it set so I’ll be mid-cycle? I suppose she’s trying to tell me that God has it set up this way to allow us the right time to work on impregnating me. I sure do hope so, anyway, and she and Tom reminded me that God doesn’t hate me and Tom says not to ditch Robin. OK, Tom does seem to be much smarter than I am when it comes to sex and the reproductive system, so I’ll sit back and let him prove the facts of life to me. He’s been right so far. Robin explained to me what she meant by “there’s a good chance” of my conceiving after we screwed when I was mid-cycle. Tom had said there was a 75% chance an egg got hit by a sperm and Robin said it did and it was a boy.

I wonder just how long it took Evie and Marla to conceive? They didn’t have any kids till they were in their 40s, although, Marla did have a few abortions along the way, but I don’t know about Evie.

In my letter to Kim, I told her how Tom said I’d get my period, even though he came in me when I was mid-cycle, and how he explained that a 30-year-old can’t adapt to hormone changes as fast and that he’s 100% sure I’m not sterile and will conceive in September or October. I asked her if she agreed and if this made sense to her. I suppose it would, but I want to hear her opinion anyway. I hope Tammy’s dead wrong when she said that anyone who screws for the 2½ years we did without getting pregnant by the pre-cum, is certainly sterile. I’ll have to ask Tom more about hormone changes. I thought I’d always heard that hormone changes can really play on your personality and moods and even make you kind of whacked out.

Tom says there’s nothing wrong with not wanting to go out and do your average typical job and wanting to stay home and be a wife and mother. I agree. I used to feel I was wrong for feeling the way I do and for wanting what I do, but millions of other women do it and there’s nothing wrong with it. I may even do other things while I was a mother. Like selling an art disk or whatever. We’ll see, but first things first and that is getting the kid in the first place, even though it seems it should take many, many miracles to do so.

Well, time to go get the clothes off the line, so chow for now!

Tom’s at Evelyn’s now as we agreed on, but I sure hope he changes Piggy’s cage and trims the hedges sometime during the weekend.

FRIDAY, JULY 19, 1996 I am so depressed right now. More so than I thought I’d be. I’ve usually been not too good with writing while I was depressed and therefore would forget some of what I had thought or felt at the time. So, I’m trying to break that habit and write while my mind is churning with emotions, feelings, and thoughts.

I didn’t get my period today, but I know I will tomorrow, and am so fucking bloated right now. The only thing I don’t have is sore tits. I have everything else that says my period’s right around the corner and I just don’t see how women can feel like this if they’re pregnant. I mean, no way! Maybe just a tiny fraction of PMS, but this? I don’t think so.

Anyway, the main reason I’m depressed right now is cuz I’m now dealing with my sterility like never before in my whole life. I knew it. I just knew I could never get pregnant and if only Tom knew just how wrong he is about my getting pregnant soon or ever. Now that I know he really does want a kid, there’s gonna be two of us to be let down. I know, though, that it’ll be no big deal to Tom that he can handle it and that it will never hit him an eighth of how it’s hit me.

I should’ve known better than to get all excited about his cumming, other than for the fact that it feels good to him and makes me feel I’ve done my job in bed right.

Once again, I want to know why God hates me so much and why Robin’s such a liar. And Robin said I’d be pregnant by September? Then that I’ll know I’m pregnant by my birthday? This is such bullshit! Why, why, why!!! Why does God hate me so much?! Why does he want to torture me? God will never let me have anything, will he? Oh, we may get some new things here and there and we may move someday, but that’s it. I’ll still be the same old Jodi with the same old life.

Tom and I were talking about my ear one time and he told me that God marks his special ones. Oh yeah? Was I that special to him that he had to mark my plumbing for destruction, too? I hate him, I hate him, I hate him! Won’t he ever just let me have at least one thing I’ve really wanted? Not something I didn’t think of or plan on or want or try for that I got and ended up loving whatever it was and wanting to keep it forever and ever like Tom and like coming out here. I used to feel differently and I hope I’m wrong about this, but I can’t ever see myself getting over not being able to have a child or forgiving God for sterilizing me. Most of the issues that I have to deal with are one after another, lasting for 2-3 years, but not this one. This one may end up being longer than the issue of how bad I had wanted to be a singer. What is this, a case of God feeling I’m ready and tough enough to deal with facing the fact of sterility like never before? Well, I can’t deal with it. And I can’t just say to myself that I’m just not gonna give God the satisfaction of showing him that he’s hurt me and that this situation has hurt me. I can’t carry on with my life as if it’s OK that I can’t have a child. If it were that easy, I’d have done so a long time ago.

I mentioned how Tom talked about a 30-year-old getting used to hormone changes and that getting pregnant would take 2-3 months. Well, I wish he were right, but the more I thought about it, the more I realized that 30 or not, I should’ve conceived at the time we did it. To do it 14 days before your period is supposed to be the prime time for conception.

They say no one’s ever fought God and won, so I guess I’ll just have to be the first. Somehow, some way, I must deal with this and get over it and get it out of my system. I know I must do something in life, too, even if it’s gonna be second best and even if my heart’s not gonna be in it.

I hate Robin so much now and I don’t ever want Robin anywhere near me! How dare she say this shit just to tell me what I want to hear to cheer me up while knowing it’s pure bullshit! They’re just like I thought Tom was up till the day he came.

Just about every single time I’ve ever been happy, it’s for nothing. I’m such a stupid, silly dreamer with no real destiny or future. All I’ll do is get occasional bursts of happiness about something that doesn’t even exist or about something that’s just an illusion or that just doesn’t last long at all or pan out to be much. God just loves to tease me. It’s like he’s saying to me, “I’ll give you happiness here and there, and then just when you think it may last, I’ll throw you back down so hard and laugh while you cry in depression, frustration, and anger.”

THURSDAY, JULY 18, 1996 For the second time since next door’s been here, I hear music coming from their house. It’s perfectly fine with me, though, cuz you can only faintly hear it in the music room and it’s not like it’s bassy and rocks the whole house like that car stereo can.

The Blazer isn’t there as much anymore which is fine with me. Guess they’re not getting along as well or as much or something.

I’m just really worried about how the noise situation around here will be in the winter. Robin says not to worry at all, but we’ll see.

Today I feel much better than yesterday. I only shit once today and today my stomach hasn’t been bothering me in the way of gas or pre-cramps and my boobs are still fine. This is typical, though, to get symptoms of the period coming on, but then the last two days or so before the period can be much comfier.

Guess they didn’t feel like listening to music for long. I just walked by that room to go to the bathroom and it was silent. I hope that the weather report I just heard means that Robin will be right when she says that this weekend there’ll be no parties next door and that they’ll be gone throughout most of the weekend. It’s gonna be drying up and it’s to be 110° tomorrow, then 112° during the weekend. Hot and dry they say.

I forgot to mention this, but according to Robin, they probably won’t be getting a dog next door, figuring they just don’t have enough time to tend to it. That’s smart, rather than to leave it outside 24/7 like two yards down does. Those are just guard dogs, but that still is a cruel thing to do to even guard dogs, if you ask me.

I hope this weekend will be good, other than the fact that I’ll be cramping and ragging. Maybe a little sad too, as it’ll be a reminder to me once again, that I just can’t conceive. And that means no matter what age I am, too. I get it. God felt that I’ve done my time dealing with Tom’s not cumming, and now that he is, he feels I’m ready to deal with the next step and that’s going from 99.9% sure I’m sterile to 100% sure I’m sterile. Then I’ll have to deal with that forever since no fertility specialist could ever do a damn thing about it. Then God will also stick another one of those 2-3-year deals on me where I’ll have something different or freaky to eat at my emotions. Is that it?

I talked to Andy today for too long, as usual, but his mouth just kept going a mile a minute and he just wouldn’t let me off the fucking phone. Still, we had a nice talk. The bulk of it was about his many and mixed feelings about Quinn. He’s had him sexually more than he ever thought possible lately, but yet has a hard time with the fact that Quinn is so closeted.

Andy also called Barbara Nicks and asked her to the movies. As we both figured, she’s busy. She did tell him, though, that he’s the first young man in quite a while to ask her to the movies.

According to Andy, he dreamt about Fran and thinks that means he’s gonna try to contact us. I hope not, but if Tom or I answer the phone and it’s him, we’ll just hang up. If he’s been such a good boy this long, why would he start up now? It wouldn’t surprise me, though, unless he’s in jail, the funny farm, or dead.

Again we got no mail today. Not even the stamps we ordered, so I hope to hell they come tomorrow. I’d just die if those got misdelivered. If they ever delivered something of importance to us to next door, I know they’d never return it. I ought to send something there to myself to see just how honest they are, but it’s not worth the stamp to find out what I already figure greatly on and if the mailman saw the name S on it, he’d cross out their number, write ours on it and deliver it here.

Tom’s over at his parent’s house now putting some kind of lock on their doors. Always doing something for them.

Last night or the night before, Wendy called and he told me he doubted she’d be calling for a while.

Yeah, right. I suppose that’s why she just called a little while ago. She’s such a pushy one! I mean, she’s got two kids, so where is she getting all this time to sit and call us and play computer? Wendy really had the hots for Tom, so has she just gotten to really missing him or trying to bug us or what? I know they got it on here a few times before we met. I wonder, did he cum for her?

Anyway, when Tom comes in, I assume he’ll be beat and just want to sit in front of the TV till he goes to bed. I hope he’ll take care of something we need done soon enough and that’s Piggy’s cage, cuz it really needs to be done.

I’m rather ticked off that he said he won’t post for another job now, which he’s eligible to do, till after this shit with his parents is over. First of all, this shit with his parents won’t be over for quite a while. Second of all, I’m sick of him putting off decisions that affect us both and putting others first. Why the hell can’t he and Mary talk to the other family members and tell them to get off their lazy asses and do their fair share? Why does Tom have to do nearly everything? Why can’t David do the damn door or something for a change? Must he use his kid as an excuse when these people do have the money for a babysitter if Evie’s not around? I can see, though, just how easy it’d be to use a kid as an excuse to get out of doing something you don’t like to do or want to do or just can’t deal with. I’d probably try to say that my kid was sick or something like that and kids are always sick, so I’m sure I’d be believed if I had a kid.

I’m almost finished with the doggie journal I’m in and truthfully, I’ve been anxious to get out of it cuz I can’t wait to get to the fruit journal. Also, the one after that which will be the one for Women Who Do Too Much, ought to be different and interesting enough, too. The blue and purple one with the crumpled paper look, has plain white lined paper, and at the same time the cover’s nothing special, it is kind of nice looking. Tom really liked it a lot and it’s totally something I can see him buying and writing in if he were into writing journals.

It’s pretty nice outside now, but it’s still pretty warm. Once the sun goes down, I’ll switch over to the EC.

I kept busy today when I wasn’t on the phone. I wrote and I cleaned the house. I was too lazy to dust, but I gave the appliances a quick clean-up to keep them from getting built up with shit, then I cleaned the bathroom and vacuumed.

Later…

Tom got in and he says his dad’s doing terrible. Very weak and incoherent. He’d be moaning in pain one minute, then saying he was hungry another minute, then tired the next minute and tonight he was singing cheerfully for a good 20 seconds or so.

Tom’s mom doesn’t use her computer too much anymore cuz of her arthritis. Especially now that the monitor just completely died. So, she gave us one of her ribbons and Tom’s now unloading a dead ribbon from its case and loading the one she gave us into it cuz its case was of a different size. I hope it works. I don’t see why it can’t.

I was absolutely shocked, yet flattered to hear what Tom told me earlier. Mary can’t have kids due to having to have a hysterectomy. Tom said that he thinks Mary would’ve made just an average mother and that I’d make an even better mother than her. Wow! What faith he has in me! Well, I’m trying to adopt the “you never know” attitude, but it’s hard. Yes, I know that things have happened that I never thought could or would, but we’re talking a whole different ball game here.

Later…

Tom just went to bed. He’s really beat, as usual.

He brought home a video of Ryan’s high school graduation and a couple of blank tapes to make copies for those who want one. (another thing to do for others) This kid got a graduation ceremony and a party with money and gifts and all kinds of things for graduating. Lucky kid. All I got was a music book and a most-improved-behavior award. How humiliating, huh?

Tom’s sleeping out here in the back room right now due to the way things are with his dad.

I know this may sound like a really cruel and sick thing to say, but even though his parents are so sweet and I love to see them, I wish they didn’t exist. They’re stealing our lives away. Then again, if it weren’t them stealing our lives, it’d be something or someone else. There’s always a problem somewhere with somebody.

This Saturday he’s working at Evelyn’s who does pay him well cuz I’ll be sleeping late and due to having my period that day, I won’t feel the greatest body-wise or head-wise. I just hope Evelyn doesn’t need him next weekend and the next and the next. This is only the 4th or 5th time, I think, that she’s needed Tom to work for her, so she’s not that bad. Not as bad as Wendy’s phone calls and certainly not as bad as Tom’s parents. Still, his parents are very lucky to have kids like Tom and Mary. When we get old and senile or disabled or weak or whatever the case may be, there’ll be no one to take care of us and help us out. Getting old is really a scary thought to me due to all the pain and disability it means having, and then the fact that there’ll be no one there for us makes it worse.

Andy and I were discussing a pattern we’ve noticed in our lives that’s the opposite of the pattern my sister and I seem to have. Well, usually when things are good here, they’re not so good with my sister or her family, and vice versa. With Andy and I, well, when he has good luck, I do too, and when he has bad luck, I do, too. He’s been having good luck lately and we have too (except for being busy and with Tom’s family), so I told him to keep having good luck so that it’ll keep rubbing off on us and maybe, just maybe, we will have a kid. My hopes may be rather unrealistic, but like I said before, dreams are dreams and we all have them.

He’s confused a lot of the time about Quinn, yet he also understands him. When Quinn and Andy are together around Quinn’s friends, Quinn acts like Andy’s just a friend and doesn’t want anyone to know about them. But when they’re alone, it’s a different story. The thing that makes it hard for Andy is that Quinn calls all the shots. He can’t talk about sex, ask for sex, or have sex with Quinn unless Quinn brings it up. Andy said he said to Quinn that it’d be nice if every once in a while he could call Quinn up for sex, but Quinn just doesn’t like that idea. He describes Quinn as very selfish, insecure, and miserable, at the same time he’s friendly and loving. And of course, he’s all fucked up on drugs and is just so damn naïve. I hope things work out, though, and I told Andy to just give it time, cuz you never know. He’s already gotten further than he ever thought he would, so he just might get even further with Quinn in time.

Later…

I just got up to leave Andy a quick message and let him in on the latest scoop in our lives and now I’m gonna take a shower which I need desperately. I need to shave and boy, does my hair need washing!

Dear Uncle Marty,

I was very upset to come home to a message from you on our answering machine saying, “How dare you prank phone call us and I’ll come out there and kick your butt if you do it again.”

First of all, I haven’t made a prank phone call to you or anyone else since 1991. Second of all, you wouldn’t stand a fraction of a chance in a fight with me in this day and age. Third of all, I thought our past problems were just that - past problems.

Yes, we’ve all done wrong in the past and yes, I am 100% guilty of calling you several years ago and having my friend call you. However, I now haven’t a thing in the world against you and your family and I wish you no harm or ill luck whatsoever and I was really hoping we could just let dead dogs lay dead. I’m sorry you have such bad feelings towards me and I can’t change that, but I still do love you and Aunt Ruth and wish you both luck, happiness, and good health.

Jodi Lin

What you just read, believe it or not, is a letter I’m sending to my uncle, even though the part of it with the message he left is bullshit. Why am I doing this? Oh, I guess for two reasons. I’m just curious to see what type of response it’ll stir up, either from them or my folks, if anyone at all. Also, I just had to make that threat about him not being able to beat me at this time, and that’s the truth too, as is the rest of the letter. I’ve had a lot of anger towards my two uncles for several years. I don’t know why or why I haven’t gotten over the past. The reason for my anger toward Uncle Ronnie is that he was always such a bully. So rude and macho. I mean, he thought he was just the toughest thing in the world. As for Uncle Marty, well, I think I’ve mentioned the bullshit thing they accused me of and how he reacted to it when I was 14. I stood with him and Aunt Ruth at a campground in Connecticut for a little while one summer and this boy and I were getting a little touchy-feely cuz I just didn’t know how to say no. Well, they thought we went much further, after they found out about it, which I never had any intention of doing. They wouldn’t listen to me. They wouldn’t believe me and this had gotten me into enough hot water with my parents, of course. And of course, my parents believed them and not me. Then one of them or both of them hit me (I can’t remember which or if it was both). Then Marty came over to the house and scared the shit out of me and threatened me cuz I slammed the door on his face cuz I was pissed off at him for lying about me and for how he treated me. If only I were like I am now back then. I’ve thought it a million times over. I would’ve dogged him and I mean dogged him! I wouldn’t have cared what the consequences were.

Other than that, I’ve gotten over my anger towards Larry and a few others here and there who did me wrong in the past. I mean, I do wish I had ended up fighting a few people back in school and people like Bonnie (Brenda’s roommate on Woodside Terrace). And also Barbara in the NHA, but I had either been too nice, too sick, or physically unable to do so at the time. If I had been able to, I’m sure I’d have spared myself a lot of shit from them, but I also would’ve been arrested, too, I’m sure. So there’s both good and bad to the way the past turned out. Yup, with my temper the way it was in the past, which was a million times worse than it could ever be now, I’d have spent plenty of time in court and maybe even jail, too.

The ribbon prints just great. I just used it to print Mary’s letter, then I copied and pasted it in. Tom said it won’t last as long, though, as this ribbon is shorter.

WEDNESDAY, JULY 17, 1996 I just applied a really cool screen saver. It’s called ‘leaky roof’ and water droplets come down one by one and make the stuff on the screen look all soggy and rippely, just as it would if water spilled on a piece of paper or if you were looking at a piece of paper that was underwater. It’s pretty neat. I like to change things around every now and then for variety. Stuff like screen savers, wallpaper, and fonts.

I thought my so-called “sterility reminder” was here today as I’ve had massive pre-cramping today. The weird thing about it was that it turned out I just needed to take a dump. This happened a few times yesterday and a few times today. At one point, I was lying in bed cuz my stomach acted up in a way that did feel like cramps for sure, but then Robin came and said it wasn’t cramps I was feeling and that I just needed to go to the bathroom. “But I just did,” I had thought. Then, sure enough, my stomach got worse in a way that I could then tell was a need to shit, so I did.

I’m getting really skeptical, once again, of Robin. I just remembered that Robin told me I’d be finding out I was pregnant by September. I looked it up in my journals and there it was in quotes what she had told me. That’s impossible. Even if I weren’t sterile, September’s too soon for a 30-year-old to conceive. Why is she lying? What’s on her mind? What’s motivating her to tell me such shit? And now she’s saying that she won’t tell me when but that by my birthday I’ll know for sure I’m pregnant.

Oh, come on! Give me a break! Who does she think she’s kidding? God can’t love me that much and so suddenly, can he? If he hated me for the most part, how can he love me that much now to give us a child?

I know Tom proved me wrong on something I was dead sure of, but how can he just know and have so much confidence that I’ll be pregnant in a few months? How many times can he prove me wrong? How many more times can Robin be right? She was wrong about how long the company would be next door, even though she said she is sometimes wrong about the smaller things in life, but still, for her to know and be right about the pregnancy just seems too far out in left field.

All that she’s told me about my getting pregnant now or real damn soon, then carrying it to term, then having it naturally, just seems as impossible as me waking up 6 feet tall and being able to snap my fingers and be on the moon, then snap my fingers again and have many $100 dollar bills in my hand.

I just don’t get it. Why would she say these things? Why would Tom? God’s never given me anything that I desperately wanted so very, very, very bad. Only stuff I wanted to keep very, very, very bad like being here and having Tom after I’d gotten these things. So, the big question is, why would he start now? He never gave me a singing career that I desperately wanted. He never gave me the woman I desperately wanted badly. So why should he give me the child I desperately want badly? Why would he suddenly smile down upon me and decide to bless me in such a grand way? It doesn’t seem logical for him to do so. It doesn’t fit the pattern. Especially when I still feel that yes, he gave me some gifts that he’ll probably never let me use in a professional kind of way, but for the bulk of my life God has hated me.

I don’t know when Tom will be home, cuz I’m assuming that he’s making his daily trip to his parent’s house, while everyone else except for Mary sits on their ass as if nothing’s going on. Tom wants to go, though, regardless of what other people do cuz he really does love his dad very much. As he told me, he’s the greatest person he’s ever known. I think Tom’s dad dying is gonna hit him harder than anyone else that could ever die that he knows. Even me. And even our child, if we could’ve ever had one.

I’d still like to know what my destiny is. I thought that God had given me a voice to sing with to share with the world, but I was wrong. So what can I share with anyone, other than a clean house and some conversation? If I can’t use my voice or my plumbing, what can I use? What can I do?

I can’t be alone. There’s got to be other people in this world in the very same situation I’m in. I can’t be that unique, even though I know there’s definitely been some pretty damn unique things about me or those I’ve known. Still, I’d like to talk to someone like me and ask them, what do they do? How do they handle it? Do they settle? Do they do nothing? Do they just kill time and wait till their time is up? I wonder.

I’ll probably have to see Doctor Rauche for a checkup in 2-3 months when my yearly prescriptions run out and Tom says that he feels it’s very possible that I’ll be there for a pregnancy test too. Yeah, I fantasized about that myself, but I’m just so afraid it’s just that, a fantasy. Will Tom go back to his old ways? Will we never hit it right if I am sterile due to bad timing or not having enough time?

Well, there’s no use dwelling on it cuz if there’s anything Robin’s told me that I agree with 100%, it’s that fate is fate and nothing I say or do is gonna change something that’s inevitable, whether it’s a good thing or not.

It looks like things are clearing up outside. It was sunny today, but still sort of humid. Last night, though, it finally got comfortable enough to run the EC and air the place out.

We’ve got to change Piggy’s cage, though, as he’s starting to stink.

Tom mowed yesterday after spraying the yard with ant killer and he said he’d trim the hedges by the clothesline back for me by the weekend since I sometimes still like to hang stuff out. Especially sheets. When he’s not here, I usually use the line to save him the trouble of having to go out to the dryer, especially if he’s tired, and if I’m tired, too, and I just want to get it over with.

I sometimes wonder if I should type up my old letter journals, but are they that important? The only real purpose of having typed versions of my journals is in case of a fire, so hopefully they’ll never be used. The only time I use them is to search for things quickly. Also, I can’t see a need for this, but if I wanted to print out a section or excerpt for someone, I could do that without giving them my journal.

See? That’s the fourth fucking time I’ve shit today. I did this 3 times yesterday and 4 times today, yet my weight is up to 104 which is the highest I’ve been in a while. I’m supposed to be constipated at this time of month, but I’m sure I will be for the next day or two. That’s OK, though, cuz I’ve shit enough to last a week. It’s confusing at times to know for sure which is a pre-cramp and which is a shit cramp.

Later…

Tom’s home now and he told me that the reason why my stomach has been the way it has been is cuz I’ve eaten too much ice cream. Could be and probably is.

He also said that his dad went to the doctor today which was really rough on him. It was kind of hard for Mom, too, and the doctor told her not to bring him back in cuz it’s too hopeless and he’s going to die. He said there’s nothing left to do for him, but that the hospice nurse can give him whatever she thinks will make him more comfortable.

Tom’s been thinking of the perfect latch for the doors cuz he goes out in the middle of the night naked. It’s not senility he’s got, but due to the constant pain he’s in and the medication, he’s been very disoriented. Sometimes at night, he swears it’s early morning or something like that. He and Ma are trying to figure out some kind of latch that’ll confuse him into getting the door open, but that also won’t make it impossible for Ma to open the door. In a sense, he’s more able-bodied than she is. I suggested a chain lock or a latch lock that slides.

Mary agrees with me, but Tom doesn’t, about Mom. You see, life’s just one thing after another and since something up there is so determined to keep Tom busier than all hell and have one thing after another after another after another go on in our lives, I think ma’s next. Meaning, I think that after dad dies, we’ll need to tend to ma all the time. Tom doesn’t agree with Mary and me and says that once she’s set up properly and has the stuff she needs, she’ll be OK by herself and won’t need constant help. This I’ve got to see to believe, but for ma’s sake and the family’s sake, I hope Tom’s right and that Mary and I are wrong. So then we’ll get hit with something else. Something else will be going on that’ll steal our time or money or both from us.

I don’t know how we can afford this, but Tom asked me which CD I wanted the most from the record club. We still have to buy a few more in the next year or two. They don’t have Linda’s or Gloria’s new CD yet, so I told him The Best of the Village People would do just fine.

That scale of ours is pretty whacked out, cuz now it’s telling me I weigh 100 and not 104 or 102.

In a few minutes, Tom and I are going swimming.

Later…

Just came in from our swim a little while ago and I just de-waxed my ear. Tom says he doesn’t think it was my wisdom tooth that was bothering me. He thinks it was my ear. I thought this time it was my tooth, but now it feels almost 100% better, so that’s nice, no matter what it was. Maybe whenever I feel that way I should take Ibuprofen and de-wax my ear, rather than take Ibuprofen and put alcohol and peroxide in my ear.

The humidity is down a little, so we’re gonna switch to the EC after the sun goes down like we did last night.

Well, who knows if Tom will be in the mood for fun tonight. He’s tired as usual, but it’s OK cuz I took care of myself when I got horny earlier.

Tom just asked me if I wanted the TV now and I said no. Then he said he didn’t want it, but then why is he still watching it? I figured he’d watch it till he goes to bed which ought to be any time now.

Not surprisingly, Tom did find something on TV and I was watching a little myself. Not too good. A plane exploded a few hours ago in New York, about 10 miles out into the Atlantic. They say it’s either a bomb or a malfunction in the engine, but they don’t know for sure. If it’s a bomb, though, I’d think it’d be an inside job due to the mega security they have. Tom says he thinks it’s an engine gone bad and that they had no way of detecting it.

I was reading my book some more, but I want to go to the library as soon as we can to look for some book titles I copied down on a piece of paper that I got out of the back covers of some past horror books I’ve read. Hopefully, I’ll find them and hopefully they’ll be just what I like.

We switched to the EC, and it’s tolerable in here, so that’s good.

TUESDAY, JULY 16, 1996 Got up at 10 AM today and yesterday. Last night, I didn’t think I’d ever fall asleep. Nothing was wrong. I was just filled with energy.

My wisdom tooth has been acting up and Tom said something about getting my teeth taken care of in a couple of months. We’ll see. I mean, yes, they do need to be taken care of and I have problems with several teeth as well as the gums, but could we really have that kind of money in just a couple of months? I know Dad’s leaving Tom some money, but after the bills are paid and we’re out of debt, it seems unbelievable that there’d be money left over for new cooling/heating stuff, a new roof, my teeth, the bed, and all the other things Tom’s been talking about. We’ll just have to wait and see.

At 1 p.m., it looked like it was early morning out. It was drizzling out. It’s been very cloudy out and just went it looked like the sun was gonna pop out, clouds came in. It’s the humidity that’s the bitch of it all and it hardly feels like we’re in the desert. I wish we could air the place out and use the EC, but it’s too humid for that so we’ve still got the AC on.

Tammy says they’re not going to Florida now till August 4th, cuz of the doctor’s appointments she and Bill have.

Being only 4 days away from my period, I’ve been having good luck as far as PMS goes. My chest is barely sore at all and I’ve had minimal pre-cramps and water gain and no emotional shit so far.

I told Tom that it still seems logical that sterility is so probable for me. He said I was very wrong, though, and I told him he can gladly prove me wrong yet again, but has a lot of odds stacked against him in which to do so. It’s more than a gut feeling or a vibe or intuition and the DES. My weight used to fluctuate a lot and of course, I was a walking pharmacy for most of my life and I didn’t get periods from age 16 to 18.

At least I haven’t had any dreams with strange messages.

Later…

I’ve only got a few minutes to write, then I’ll be checking out of here cuz I want to see a movie that might hopefully be good. For the most part, though, nothing’s too good or too interesting on TV till the fall. It’s nothing but reruns now and all year round there’s enough of that shit anyway.

Since grouping my journals on the computer, there are only 6 groups that are of Arizona journals. I used the search mode to see if I mentioned a certain dream I had a few years ago, and to my surprise, I have never written about it. It’s a pretty scary, yet funny dream in a way. As you know, my life was once so bad that I used to wish I could wake up and see that it was all just a nightmare. Well, I certainly got my chance to do just that in real life when I had the dream I’m about to write about.

I was walking down a beautiful desert road wearing a gorgeous flowing white chiffon dress and I was barefoot. I was admiring the beautiful weather and the scenery around me with cactuses, palm trees, and mountains. I was walking through some mountain trail, I guess, and at one point I was walking down the street of a suburban neighborhood just like ours when suddenly, my feet got very cold.

“No!” I cried. “It can’t be what I think it is.”

Sure enough, though, I slowly lowered my head to look down at my feet and I was standing in snow. Terrified, I slowly looked up, so afraid my worst nightmare had come true and it did. I was standing in the same outfit, still barefoot in the snow in downtown Springfield by Bay State West. In a panic, I ran inside the front doors where the payphones have always been and tried calling different people I’d known in the Springfield area. Either no one was home or I’d get busy signals. So I finally called Tammy and when she answered, I told her about my situation. At first she didn’t believe me, then she said,

“Well, tough shit. This is your problem, so you get yourself out of it all by yourself.”

Then I woke up. Never had I been so relieved to know that that was just a dream and I ran to the window and admired Arizona’s beauty till my sweat dried up and till my heart stopped pounding.

Later…

The movie seemed shitty, so I guess I’ll write some more. I mentioned a neat idea to Tom that I’ve had for a while. Again, I don’t know how we could ever afford to do this. I was thinking how neat it’d be to clean the patio up of all its bird shit and junk that’s out there and lay down some cheap carpet over the bulk of the area. Then put a table and chairs there and screen the patio and put a screen door in and make it what’s called an Arizona room. Then put a table with an umbrella and some chairs, including a new lounge, out by the grassy area and the cool deck. That cool deck, which is a textured cement surface that surrounds the pool, sure does get hot and fries your feet, even though it’s cooler than the concrete on the patio that’s smooth. Also, we’d have to take down the bench swing, which the birds have totally claimed, anyway, and it’d be nice to get that rocker bench for either outside or inside the patio area, but if it were outside, it’d really have to be covered well, cuz anything that’s put outside, is for the birds to claim and do whatever they please with.

We ordered stamps by mail and I guess they’ll be here tomorrow. Now I’m only writing to Bob and Kim since Tammy’s got a computer and my parents are history. Of course, I also write to Larry and his family.

I just hope everything continues to work out. So far, so good, but still it seems we’ll never have enough time for each other. If a 30-year-old DES person really can get pregnant in a few months, will we even have the time to do so? He’s so tired most of the time due to having to tend to his parents after work nearly every day and my schedule isn’t always on days. I just wish the other family members would do their fair share and stop sticking the bulk of it on Tom, and then on Mary. Mary’s been kind enough to stay there overnight several times, but what about Ray, Nora, Evie, and the two Davids? Have they got a problem with it or something? Does it make them that uncomfortable? Well, we all like to be in our own beds and I sure as hell wouldn’t want to sleep over there, but if I need to and if that’s something I can do to help out, then I will.

I hope we can get a new ribbon soon. I’m amazed that the color one we’ve been using is still alive. It’s barely alive, but that’s only cuz I’ve been printing with pink in a low resolution. If I were to use a higher resolution and print in blues, purples, or black, it’d really drain the juice out of it. I am getting sick of pink print, though, so the next time I print stuff, I may keep the low resolution, but print in blue or something like that. When I look at the 4 color bands on the ribbon which are yellow, red, blue, and black, I can see that all the colors are worn out except for the blue.

I hope it doesn’t rain anymore or stay humid, but that’s a dream. It is the monsoon season after all and it’ll be this way till mid-September. I wish it’d rain every single weekend, though. That’d keep neighbors quiet, although they have been, thank God.

I haven’t been reading that 510-page book by Dean Koontz lately, so pretty soon I think I’m gonna jump back into it before I forget what the hell’s going on. I’m halfway through it.

When I was in the bookstore, they had a horror section with all kinds of books that I’m totally into. Now why can’t any of these libraries do that and have horror sections? What’s the big deal?

I think I may have forgotten to mention this, but when I bought the last 3 journals, the guy there at the store gave us a card and I think after you’ve bought $10 worth of stuff 8 times ($80), you get a $7 book free. It may be 10 times, though. The 3 journals had come to $19 and change, but the guy stamped off the card two times. Before a year is out, I’ll get that $7 off. Probably even before 1996 is out with the way I write.

After midnight, I’ll be technically 3 days away from my period and I wonder now, why am I so lucky this month? I have no tit pain. I can only feel a little soreness if I press into the sides, but this has been the best my tits have ever felt before a period. They feel like they do after my period and I’ve hardly had any pre-cramps. I’ve had some, though. I’m sure, though, that within the next few days, I’ll feel worse and pretty shitty on Saturday. Thank God for Ibuprofen, though.

I know I’m not pregnant, of course, but I asked Tom how Tammy could feel like she was gonna get her period as she said she did when she got pregnant. Tom said it’s kind of like a psychological thing and when something’s going on down there, a woman automatically relates it to her period. But you can’t feel anything going on down there for the first 2 or 3 months, so that’s weird. Real weird. She said that after her period was supposed to be over, though, the symptoms went away.

MONDAY, JULY 15, 1996 I wish today was like yesterday. It’s cool and cloudy which is perfect for visiting people, running errands, and going shopping. When I’m at home, though, I love it hot and sunny.

I’m surprised the kids two yards down aren’t out screaming on their monkey bars.

Robin was right. No parties next door.

Robin came to me last night and here are all the things she told me: In the winter, next door and two yards down won’t be any worse. I’ll only hear them occasionally and not for long. I’ll be finding out I’m pregnant quite soon enough and she knows to the minute when I’ll conceive and have it. She knows if it’s a girl or a boy. No C-section will be required and I’ll have it about an hour after going to the hospital. She said it may be hard, but fast and that overall, it won’t be the long drawn-out nightmare I think it’ll be. She says it’ll be easier to have than carry and not quite as bad as I thought. I might be uncomfortable down there for a while after, but no big deal. I’ll be happy being a mother and have no regrets about it.

I told her this all seemed too good to be true and she said not all things that sound too good to be true are a joke. She said things that are too good to be true do happen all the time. More than I think.

She also said no, my family won’t be negative towards us about it and they won’t nag, hassle, or lecture us. Well, good, cuz I’d just hang up on them or not take it.

Time will tell, though, how much Robin will be right or wrong on.

We screwed last Saturday evening and Tom said he had a mini orgasm for sure, but neither of us hardly felt any cum. I believe him, though. Guys throb before they cum in a way that they don’t during any other time and I sure felt him throb.

Mary told me she and Dave got a mattress that’s not that Do Not Disturb mattress but acts similarly. She says if Dave sits at the edge of the bed and rocks it, she can feel it, but she can’t feel him tossing and turning. Can you believe they paid $1200 for it?! The bed we want is cheaper than that. She said the reason they paid so much is cuz they needed a super long mattress cuz Dave’s 6’ 4”.

Well, I think I’ll go grab a bite to eat, then start typing some of this up.

Later…

Got a letter from Bob and I began typing one back to him. I did a lot of writing today.

Tom mowed his parent’s yard today and when he came home, I had pork chops and a baked potato ready for him.

He put some algaecide in the pool.

I’m sure he’ll be too tired to do anything tonight if you know what I mean. I’m not too terribly horny now, though, so I can live without it.

Maybe we’ll play some cards, but I think I’ve done enough writing for now!

SUNDAY, JULY 14, 1996 Today was a very busy day for both of us. Tom got $105 worth of groceries, then after we ate, we took off for Mom and Dad’s.

Mary and Johnny were there and we all worked on different things.

I vacuumed and Tom tore up the filthy smelly carpet from the room Dad’s in, then we rearranged the room.

Ma gave me $10 for helping out, then we went to the mall where I got 3 journals, and to Old America where I got 2 doggie mugs. Now I have 7. I have a Lhasa Apso, Golden Retriever, Maltese, Sheltie, Collie, and two Irish Setters.

Tom dropped me off after we got some ice cream and then Tom returned to his parent’s house to put up rails in the bathroom.

After he dropped me off I did 3 loads of laundry. I washed and hung dry them figuring I’d do Tom a favor so he wouldn’t have to come home after working so hard and dry 3 loads of laundry. Well, little did I know just how much I was really helping him, cuz he came home with an upset stomach.

The last time he saw Evie, he said she looked 7-8 months pregnant. When I asked why she hadn’t said anything, he said that’s just one of Evie’s and David’s stupid ways. They supposedly never told anyone else that they moved till they actually did.

Evie and David are really selfish, though I understand David’s stress. However, they use their kid as an excuse not to do their fair share of helping out with mom and dad and not to pay Tom back for helping them move. They keep talking about it, though, and Tom and Mom and Dad were the only ones who knew they were moving. still, I wish Ray, Nora, Evie, and David would get off their lazy asses and stop sticking 80% of the work on Tom and 20% of the work on Mary.

I just wonder, will we ever have time for ourselves?! Will we ever be able to screw more than once a week? I told Tom that he could go to selfish little Evelyn’s next Saturday due to how my schedule will be then. Plus, I’ll be ragging and cramping and not up to doing too much.

Tom said that he was excited, actually, when I told him we did it mid-cycle till he remembered that it takes a 30-year-old time to adapt to hormone changes. He said that that’s why he thinks it’ll take till September or October. Makes sense to me, God permitting. If I never got pregnant the 10 or so times I was dumb enough to not use protection when I was 21 (thank God I didn’t, though), one pop as a 30-year-old ain’t gonna do it. If it were really possible for me to conceive, then I’d think it’d take many, many months, but I hope not. Tom said that there was a 75% chance that an egg was fertilized last week, but of course, it never could’ve hooked and stayed hooked.

SATURDAY, JULY 13, 1996 Oh, shit! Some people they hired are doing next door’s lawn now, just like the Saturday they had that long wild party. The only good thing about a company doing their yard is that if it were Mike instead, he’d have the Blazer stereo going and maybe the kid with him too. How many people, though, are gonna come do someone’s lawn on a Saturday? This is how I know there’s gonna be a big party and the weather’s suitable enough for it for people like them who can stand the heat. It’s only gonna be 106º today and it’s not as humid. I haven’t heard the kid since the last party on May 18th, but I’ll certainly hear it plus 5 more. Yup, this lawn company definitely isn’t regular since they haven’t been here in nearly a month. They only come when there’s gonna be a party.

Shit! I knew they wouldn’t be gone on weekends for long and that I’d be compensated. When they’re not here on weekends they must be partying at other people’s houses. I’d guess they rotate between 4 or 5 houses.

Well, I better enjoy myself while it lasts, cuz between noon and 2:00, the company will be here. So much for Tom and I having a nice peaceful swim later!

Later…

The landscapers left and boy was that fast.

Now I know that Robin’s visit a few minutes ago was just my imagination telling me what I want to hear. She said they’re not having a party, the weekend will be peaceful, I will have a baby and Tom won’t go back to his old ways.

Then why were they blowing the carport? That’s obvious. It’s so they can eat and entertain there with more coverage than the back patio and to get as close as they can to this house to piss me off, cuz everyone likes to toss their noise on others. It is getting deathly hot and humid out, but these people don’t mind, I’m sure.

I wish their company would call them saying they were sick or just not in the mood to party in the heat and humidity, but no such luck. Most people love a party and free food and being at someone else’s house so they can leave when they feel like it and not have to clean up.

Robin said, though, that I’ll see that everything she’s told me will come true and that she’ll reassure me all I need till I do see it come true.

I don’t know about that. I’m just so afraid of Tom going back to his old ways. What if he never cums again or doesn’t for many months or years?

He’s working on Evelyn’s trailer floor today and I guess she’s paying him well cuz he said to go ahead and make a full-fledged, old-fashioned grocery list, and then when he returns at around 4:00, he’s taking me out to pick up some Chinese food.

He’s been up since around 4 PM and I asked him if he thinks he’ll have energy left for “mutual” sex by the time we get around to it and he said yes.

After he came the last time we screwed last Saturday, he had said he thought it’d be mid-cycle the next Saturday and not that Saturday. What if this scared him that I was mid-cycle when we did it? What if he only meant to cum once just to get me off his back for a while and to get me to believe in him? And also, what if it was a tease? What if he said to himself, “I’ll just cum real good once to get you off my case and believing in me, then if you think I’ll keep cumming and that we’re gonna have a kid, you’re a sucker!”

God, I hope not! I hope I’m not gonna be paying for that day last Saturday with a party and a non-cumming dick! I know there’s gonna be a party, though.

Later…

I still can’t get Tom to divulge the secret, though he still swears it’s got nothing to do with cumming or a kid. He says it’s more like a material thing, but then he said it had to happen in its own time. That’s what he always said about his cumming and the kid and something you have to let “happen in its own time” doesn’t sound like a material thing to me.

I still want to know how he just “knows” I’m not pregnant now. Is it a denial statement? Is it too soon? Is it a vibe, an instinct, an intuition, or does he know something I don’t that makes him so sure? I mean, he is so sure. It’s like he’d be his life on it and yes, I believe him. Well, I’m definitely, definitely not pregnant. And this is even though I have no PMS symptoms.

Please, God! Please don’t let my happiness be short-lived or a joke!

Later…

These people next door are sick to be having a party in another hour or so. Just when I thought it’d be cooler today – uh-uh! It’s so hot my feet fry on the shaded areas of the patio and the pool is like bathwater.

They’re not home now, but that’s part of the plan. Tom says he thinks he plays basketball at a gym on weekends and I agree. So right now he and she are at the gym, then they’ll be returning with their company. Of course, Joely could’ve stayed back to get things ready. I wish they’d hold off the party till early evening when it’s a bit cooler, but like I said, I think these people could take it if it were 120° out and humid. Last night when it was early evening they had their living room windows open (I’m surprised I didn’t hear anything). Yuck! I’d die with the windows open in here at 3:00 in the morning. It’d have to be really dry and no higher than about 80° degrees before I could stand to have windows open at night.

Later…

Damn! Joely either doesn’t drive or doesn’t have a car and she did stay back cuz I can see the front door open. That’s a major heat-tolerant freeloader. I’m sure she’s cleaning and airing the place out for guests. I mean, they will see the place, even though they’ll be outside 99.9% of the time.

Later…

So far, it looks like the party’s gonna be later or tomorrow. I thought they said there were chances for storms over the next few nights, though. Well, I’ll feel a lot better as long as it stays quiet, and even more so if he gets off and shows me it will be a consistent thing. I hope we can do it more than once a week, though, whenever the hell things slow down. Once a week isn’t enough for me and for a couple trying to make a kid, we should do it more often still. We’re not like teenagers or assholes who get pregnant in one pop.

Later…

I figured Tom would be late. He said he’d call if he were gonna be much later than 4:00.

I hope we have time for sex tomorrow! I can’t picture this guy getting off tonight, but hopefully it’ll still be fun enough and that we can play cards and go swimming.

We need the money, yes, but I hope Evelyn doesn’t need Tom fixing stuff that often. One of the problems with a smart husband is that everyone needs him to do or fix something and he’s too nice to say no. Well, hopefully we can soon just take care of ourselves and not other people’s this and other people’s that.

Later…

Well, it’s going on 5:00, and still no Tom. Whether we need the money or not, I’m really sick of 99% of the time being about what we can do for other people. Why does everyone have to dump their problems on Tom? We have our own dreams, goals, and things to do.

He called a couple of times to test her phone. Oh, please don’t tell me she’s got phone problems, too! Call the phone company, Evelyn. That’s what they’re there for.

Well, I doubt he’ll be in before 7:00 or 8:00, so I’d better go entertain myself doing something.

FRIDAY, JULY 12, 1996 How does Tom do that? I mean, how does he know certain stuff? Is he psychic now? He said it’s just his opinion, but it seems more like a gut feeling. Like a vibe. He said that even though he came in me when I was mid-cycle, I’m not pregnant, but that I will be in September or October. OK, since he’s proven himself not to be a liar after all, if he says September or October, then September or October it is.

However, I guess Robin has a different story to tell. Robin came to me last night and said that just cuz Tom has his opinion doesn’t mean it’s right, but that things will still work out and that I don’t need to pray to God for a child, cuz it’s a done deal, anywhere from right now, till I think she said September.

Robin made a comment that I’d be gaining weight soon enough. After I relayed what Tom said, they told me that everyone had a right to their opinion, but to just wait and see who's wrong and who’s right. Guess that’s all I can do anyway, but right now, as far as I’m concerned, the pessimist in me just can’t see it. Not now, not later, not ever. However, Tom does seem to be 100% confident and sure about his opinion and he sure did prove me wrong about my belief that he’d never cum, so we’ll see.

Later…

Typical Andy! If there’s one thing about him that hasn’t changed over the years, it’s his pushiness. He’s such an opposite-doer. I let him know on his machine yesterday that till Tom’s dad’s gone, he’ll be sleeping on the couch for the most part by the phone in case ma calls. So I asked him to please not call unless it’s very important. What does he do? Goes and calls here and wakes Tom up just to let me know Gloria was on TV. Tom said it was no problem and not to worry, but I do worry. Cuz first of all, Tom needs all the sleep he can get whether or not God’s preparing him for something. And second of all, that was very rude and inconsiderate of Andy. So, I left Andy a message and went over once again, what the definition of important was and told him that if I was up at night, I’d call him.

Later…

I just talked to Minnie, who has been trying to get a hold of me. She moved to Greenfield and is keeping this second kid of hers, who she says she got from a rape, cuz it’s a girl.

Well, because Tom’s cumming now and due to the fact that there’s a chance of us having a kid, regardless of if it’s slim, I’m not as pissed at God. I still kind of am, though, as Minnie’s too young, not ready and I don’t think she deserves it like we do or has paid her dues for it or has wanted it for as long as we have. Too many people get things they either don’t want or don’t care about handed to them on a silver platter, while those who want what they’re getting have to wait years or they never get it.

I wonder what makes Tom so sure I’m not pregnant now. I asked him about it, but he said he couldn’t explain it. Maybe it just takes time for the body parts to learn what to do after so long. Maybe it’ll just take the egg and sperm time to get the message and get the hang of how to make a baby.

Later…

Andy just left a message saying he was sorry he woke Tom up. He said he had forgotten all about it until he called and felt bad about it.

OK. No prob.

Later…

I had an hour’s conversation with Andy. We just bullshitted about odds and ends till he had to get ready for work.

THURSDAY, JULY 11, 1996 Tom and I had a pleasant morning. He went down on me and I did him by hand. He didn’t get off, though, cuz he was pressed for time and very tired. He’s been staying up late by the phone in case Ma calls. He says at least he’ll be built up and ready for the weekend. I hope this weekend will be as wonderful as last and that he doesn’t slip back into his old ways.

Tom was giving classic examples of how people just can’t deal with things that are different and how so many people think they’re better than others. I can kind of relate to the feelings of being superior, though. I wouldn’t say so to others or treat them differently, but I feel superior to most people. I hate society and I just think people, in general, are just too fucked up or too stupid.

Mary has a touch of Tammy in her. Tammy’s always felt superior to me cuz she’s older with 3 kids, etc. Well, according to Tom, Mary’s been treating Dad like a 2-year-old and like she’s so much more responsible and smarter than her brothers (though she is, excluding Tom), and David does nothing but bitch about all the stress he’s under. And I guess Ray’s stupid and Steven doesn’t get it.

Tom said, “Different people deal with things in their own way, but it’s amazing how people want to run scared when something or someone’s different or unusual.”

Oh, I know all about that. That’s why I never had very many friends and so many problems with people. I’m not perfect, either, and this may sound stuck-up and selfish, but the general population just isn’t good enough for me, so I guess we’re even.

I thought I heard those kids out back two yards down. In this fucking heat? Shit! They are gonna practically live out there from September to May if they can be out there in July.

Yes, the heat returned a few days ago, but it’s still a bit humid. It’s perked me back up, though, as the rain had made me energyless. It usually does.

I realize something else about something Gloria and I have in common. True love. If there’s anything I’d change, I’d have Tom be my first and only love, too, and I’d have been here, been ready for him, and been with him as soon as I was legal age.

I cleaned the house yesterday which Tom noticed. I had to really talk myself into getting started, but once I did get started, I was off on a roll. I cleaned the bathroom and the kitchen. I dusted and vacuumed the whole house, then mopped the kitchen floor.

I forgot to mention that I called information to see if there was a Fran P listed within the Springfield area. Not cuz I’d ever want to talk to him again, but cuz I wanted to see if my vibes have been right all along as to why he hasn’t called in so long. Sure enough, there was no Fran P listed, so he’s either dead, in jail, in the funny farm, or without a phone. There’s still also a good chance he lost our number and can’t remember my married name, thank God, otherwise he’d be trying to call here and there from other people’s phones, no doubt, no matter where he was. I’m pretty sure that’s it, cuz Andy’s friend Donna’s grandmother still gets yearly calls in Springfield.

Later…

Got a message on AOL from Tammy, who I also spoke to. She and her family are driving to Florida (they can’t afford to fly) on the 17th, then they’ll return a week later. They’re gonna stay with a friend of Bill’s for a night or two in Orlando, then at Mom and Dad’s for a couple of nights.

I told Tammy I got a faint flicker of a feeling that someone may break into her house while she’s gone, but I hope I’m wrong.

Tom still hasn’t mentioned the secret and now I wonder if he has it in mind to get me pregnant, then say that was the secret. Meaning, maybe he’ll come out and tell me yes, he planned everything this way. I don’t know, though, it really does seem like he just needed an unusually extra-long time to develop with me sexually. I just hope 3 of my worst fears don’t come true. 1. That he returns to not cumming. 2. That I can’t get pregnant. 3. That I do get pregnant but lose it.

Later…

I sang and watched some TV, but now I think I’ll go play computer games and maybe do some drawing.

Later…

So much for trying to eat hotdogs outside without getting hounded by all those birds.

It’s so cool how things have changed for the better for us, besides his cumming. At first I felt like we weren’t physical enough, we didn’t have sex enough and he didn’t cum. Now he cums and we have sex more often and are more physical with each other even when we’re not having sex. I love it this way. Of course, I never thought I’d ever say that or feel that way, too.

I’m a person who loves to analyze things and play detective, so that’s what I’m gonna do now. When I think back to yesterday, I find it pretty weird that the mailman would deliver next door’s phone bill, then return 10 minutes later with our mail. See, I think this is an intentional game he’s playing. I haven’t seen any of the mail carriers around here in ages, but shortly after I got here, and for quite a while after, there was a regular mailman. He liked me. I mean, I could tell he was attracted to me, even though he never said one word about it or anything else other than “Hello” and “How are you?” Maybe he’s been misdelivering the mail with the hopes that I’ll go out and talk to him about it face-to-face. And that way, he’d get to see me again.

I hope to hell Wendy doesn’t call like hell this weekend, cuz we probably won’t be able to ignore the phone in case his mom calls. She’s called 100 times in the last few weeks and it really pisses me off how I’m trying to have a conversation with my husband who I don’t get to see that much due to all this stuff with his dad, then she calls. I wanted to say something like, “Look. The man’s super busy. His dad’s dying. I don’t get to see him that much, so back off, OK?”

But Tom assured me that if he felt bugged by her he’d let her know. I hope so, cuz most of the time he’s just too damn nice and he’s got too much patience and tolerance. These are great qualities to have but within reason. And so what if she doesn’t bug him yet? She bugs me!

Later…

I just got an idea. Well, I’m taking my time writing up Andy’s journal little by little, since I want to stretch it right to before his birthday which is February 15th. As I write little chunks of it, I’ll copy it into my journals so that I have it written, as well as on the computer. I’ll start with what I’ve got so far. Whenever I’m copying stuff from Andy’s journal, I’ll put an AJ at the start and end of each chunk I copy. I’ll omit all the AJs from my typed version of these journals, cuz it has its own file.

Looks like little Miss Joely next door has no car. That old guy drops her off.

Well, well. No wonder I haven’t heard them. Perhaps they’ve decided to grant my request? Mike just came in with the music so low, I could barely hear it. Let’s hope it stays that way and for no longer than 20 seconds.

WEDNESDAY, JULY 10, 1996 I was watching a case of 2 babies switched at birth on Court TV. One died at age 9 and the other, now 14, went to court to cut off her biological parents cuz she wanted to remain with her family that she’s always known. A psychologist testified it’d be detrimental to her well-being and state of mind, so the judge let her stay where she was. It’s about time judges paid more attention to psychology and not biology. If I could have, I’d certainly have stayed with Anna and Harry. Not gone home, to other foster homes, hospitals, or schools.

Things have been too good to be true. First, I desperately wanted to be a singer, then I desperately wanted to be with a woman, then I wanted him to cum and for us to have a kid. Well, we have no kid yet, but it sure feels great not having some long-term overwhelming issue to deal with, unless it turns out something’s wrong with me. I hope not! This wonderful time and feeling have a scary side too, for I always wonder if there is a catch. Is something bad gonna happen now, like my inability to conceive? Or something else? Will something else go terribly wrong and stay that way indefinitely? Am I foolish to hope for a child? Love, a child and being a singer are probably the things I’ve wanted or want the most in life. I got the love, but will we be so blessed as to receive the gift of a child? Oh, I just hope this isn’t a case of enjoy-the-happy-moment-while-it-lasts, cuz the shit shall once again hit the fan, that is, of course, excluding the things we expect, like with Tom’s dad. He’s really near the end and now he’s seeing things. The cat they don’t have came running into his room and he goes out to the living room, looks at his empty chair and says, “How ya doin’?”

The birds and I have a new game. Ring around the pool. Yup, they like to follow me around the pool. So Piggy and I have our games and so do the birds and I.

Later…

Now I know the woman’s full name next door. Her phone bill was delivered here. I figured it was only a matter of time before the mailman delivered a piece of their mail here and I’d learn their full name. I guess the house is pretty much in her name. I brought the bill over there and threw it on the porch with a note saying that the mailman frequently misdelivers mail and to please toss any of ours they get into our mail slot. I know they won’t, though. Anyone who has a problem with the simple request of turning down their music on their way in and out isn’t gonna return someone else’s mail.

At least they have been quiet since it’s been really hot and I haven’t heard any music. They’re out a lot. Once the weather cools down, then I’m sure that’ll be a different story, but I’ll deal with it then.

I said I wouldn’t worry till New Year’s came and I wasn’t pregnant by then, but actually, I’ll really wonder if I get my period on the 20th, since we did it on a day where a woman has an excellent chance of conceiving. I would think that if a woman gets sprayed in 14 days after her period, she not only could be pregnant, but she should be pregnant. That is totally prime time for that.

I wonder if the inflamed cervix they say I always seem to have can cause problems. I guess not, though, cuz I’d assume that if that were possible, that Dr. Rugg I saw would’ve brought it up.

I didn’t try to see through the envelope for next door’s number, cuz I can’t imagine ever really having anything of importance to say to them. Besides, if I really had something to say, I’d go over there and say it in person.

I imagine these journals will go slower now that I don’t have so much shit to bitch about and discuss all my fears, doubts and suspicions about Tom since that’s gone.

God, please let this peace and happiness continue! Please don’t let some hefty compensation hit me! Please let us have a child!

I designed 4 journal covers. I did roses, other flowers, cactuses and a Yucca plant. There are 3 more covers that I’ll be doing.

Later…

Tomorrow my parents should get my brief, but blunt letter telling them I can’t deal with rude and selfish people. I wonder if my dad will write me a letter like the one he wrote to me when I was on Bell Rd. The one saying how upset he was that I’d talk to his wife that way, no one’s perfect, etc. Hey, I got a right to speak my mind so they can cry over it all they want. The question is, do I really give a shit anymore if he does? The more years that go by that they don’t seem to care about treating me the way they should treat me or anyone else for that matter, the less I care about them and their feelings.

Tom probably won’t be home for a few hours yet. He’s picking up groceries, as well as getting a new knob for the door of his parent’s microwave.

We’ve had very little time for sex, but hopefully this weekend will be as wonderful as last weekend was.

Linda will be 49 on the 15th of this month. She’s really getting up there. Gloria will be 37 or 38 this September 1st, then on September 2nd is hers and Emilio’s anniversary. I guess they’ll be married for about 18 years.

TUESDAY, JULY 9, 1996 The night before last I saw an interview with Gloria and I really realized, Linda inspired me vocally and Gloria inspired me personally. She’s such a great person who’s so very blessed. She’s got the world in her hands. There’s nothing more she needs or wants and if there is, no problem, she can get it. I should envy her with her family, a career she loves, money and she’s so close to her family. From what I hear, her parents (even though her father’s dead), her grandmother, and her sister are great people. I saw her sister Becky for the first time and yuck! Big fat ugly mama and she doesn’t really look too much like Gloria, any more than Gloria’s mother does.

I heard a tape of Gloria singing when she was around 10 and I was shocked to hear how much she sounded like I did when I was 10. Amazing how two voices can sound the same at one age, then develop into two totally different-sounding voices.

Yesterday Tom and I opened the two eggs that were in the nest since Mama Bird abandoned it a few weeks ago. One had just clear liquid in it and the other had a bird that had just begun developing. It may have been too hot in that particular area. I wonder if they’ll next there again next year.

Yesterday Robin said she won’t tell me yes, something hooked last Saturday, or no, it didn’t hook, but she did say something about there being a good chance. I’ve been feeling wonderful emotionally and that’s very important to me and I really appreciate it and thank God for it.

Robin says she won’t be around as much cuz I don’t need her like her sister back east needs her, but she’ll still look out for me.

Later…

Since 2 AM it’s been raining. In the middle of the night, it rained like hell and there was massive thunder and lightning. It’s a wonder we never lost the power. I’ve barely been up for 9 hours, yet I feel tired. I’m sure it’s the weather. It’s no bright, sunny scorcher out. They say it’ll only hit 100º today which is quite a drop from the 112º it was.

I hope they don’t party this weekend. They’ve been so peacefully quiet, but it’s probably only due to the weather. I took advantage of the weather and deep-fried chicken wings and French fries earlier which gives off heat. Now I’m making spag, so I’m sitting out in the kitchen as I write.

Andy called yesterday to tell me he made it for the 8th time with Quinn. Well good for him, but I wish Quinn would stop stringing Andy along so much.

MONDAY, JULY 8, 1996 I’ve completely dumped my parents and I mean it. This is it. But like I’ve always said, life’s about getting and giving stuff up and being compensated. This is my compensation for our sex lives being fully developed, but believe me, I have no regrets. I did the right thing. I’m tired of not being able to be me and not being able to talk about what I want and my life and what’s going on with me. I have too much self-respect for myself to deal with such a rude selfish person like my mom. Whether a person’s a relative or not, I can’t associate with those who want me to be like them and who only want me to say what they want to hear. I have never stopped my parents from talking about whatever they want, be it stuff I like or stuff I don’t like or care about. A part of me wants to just dump the whole family and be rid of them all and never ever go back to New England. I don’t care about Florida and I hate New England, so why should I go visit or associate with people I may love, but with people who, for the most part, I don’t like?

SUNDAY, JULY 7, 1996 I haven't felt so good in so long. So relaxed, so carefree, and definitely more hopeful. I don’t know what I feel the most: shock, happiness, or guilt. I really, really thought he was playing with me all this time. I had no idea that some people just needed time to develop sexually. I always thought that if a guy didn’t cum, it was due to a physical problem, them not being attracted to the one they were with, or fear of a kid. I also had no idea that a sexual problem could instantly be fixed (unless this is a once-in-a-lifetime thing).

It’s amazing too, that this all happened when I was mid-cycle, but I’m not gonna get my hopes up too high. I’m not completely negative about it, anymore, either. Now it’s all in God’s hands to decide whether to give us a child or not. Yes, I do fear compensation and that God may replace this issue with something new, but I hope not. If he does, though, it’ll hopefully be a joke and not last for 2½ years.

I feel so much more normal now and now I can just concentrate on having fun, rather than that and trying to measure up and be good enough as well.

From what Robin says, I’ll be pregnant soon, but like I said, I don’t want to get my hopes up too high, even though I now believe I have a chance.

This has really boosted my love for Tom, even though sex is just a part of a relationship. I am so blessed and so lucky to have a guy like him and I fully trust him. This means so much to me that he could tell me every day for 20 years that he was gonna do the cigarette machine and not do it, cuz I fully know now, that if it’s something I need that really matters, he’ll be there. Even though anything’s possible, how lucky I am to know that the chances are pretty much 0 that he’d leave me with or without a kid or cheat on me.

This wonderful feeling I have now totally overrides all that depression, anger, and frustration I went through. It feels so good to feel the way I do now. I feel like I haven’t felt this way for about two years. If it turns out I’m sterile, yes, there’d be some sadness and anger, but nothing compared to if I never got the chance to try if Tom had never cum.

According to Tom, Minnie called when I was asleep. Just when I think she dropped off the face of the earth, she calls. She had no important message for me. She just wanted to say hi and see how my ear was.

Tom went over to his parents' place today and they have some kid’s TV dinners and there were some Western-style stencils in one of them and he asked Ma if I could have it cuz there was a cactus. There’s a cactus, a hat, a boot, a horse, a snake, and a horseshoe and I decorated Larry’s next envelope with them.

SATURDAY, JULY 6, 1996 I was waiting for KHITS to play a song I requested, but as usual, they didn’t. They said they had the song, but it’s always, “I’ll try to get that on for you.” Never, “we will” or “we won’t” get that on for you.

Got a letter from Kim with a boring Bob letter she enclosed which she added some lines and words to. She used another one of those cat cards she has and I’m gonna take a shot at drawing it later.

I drew in my sketchbook, some of the flowers, birds, and cactuses I had drawn on sheets of paper that I’d stuck in plastic protector folders and put in my photo album. This way I can have some of my favorite ones in my sketchbook. I also did an elephant and maybe I’ll draw in more copies of my photo album drawings. Except for the people ones. I still haven’t done any journal covers yet.

Yesterday Tom said we’d definitely spend time together and that he’d adapt his schedule to mine (since he’s the only one here who can do that). I don’t know how serious he is, though. I don’t know if this is a tease or what he really has in mind, but he won’t be able to blame my behavior, cuz I’m not gonna say anything. I want to see what he does on his own or what God may do. I want to see what positions Tom will do and for how long till something hurts or he gets tired or sick.

I’m 14 days after my last period began. There’s got to be some catch waiting for me. If we screw, if he doesn’t say anything about cumming, I’m gonna say something like, “I could tell you had at least a mini orgasm.” I want to see if he goes along with it as a tease or uses bogus mini orgasms as a way off the hook and a way to make me believe the only reasons I never got pregnant were due to the DES and God. If he says he didn’t really cum, then maybe he’d have a couple of reasons for that. One might be that he’d look forward to and expect to see a look of such disappointment on my face and he’d be thinking to himself, “Ha, ha! You’re still not getting pregnant, but for a minute you thought you just might, you sucker!” The other reason might be so as to stop me from getting my hopes up for nothing. We’ll just have to wait and see.

Gloria’s fan club is worse than Tom. A couple of weeks ago they sent a letter promising me stuff they never sent. They promised to send stuff in May, then June and now it’s July.

Later…

I did the cat picture on Kim’s card. It’s got lots of detail to it. The cat’s hanging over a fancy box and then there’s a hat and there’re fancy baseboards and wallpaper. I altered my colors a bit for originality. I’m happy with how it came out and I think Tom will like it.

Now I’m gonna go check out a movie that’s coming on soon.

Later…

Tom got up about an hour ago, drank a shake, then went swimming with me. It was funny, cuz after he got out of the water, he was like, where’s my nose? You know, the thing that pinches your nose shut so you don’t get water up it? Even I was air-headed for a moment there, cuz I didn’t notice he was wearing it around his head like a bandanna till we came in the house.

One of the birds charged and ran towards him as he got out of the pool. He must’ve thought Tom had some seeds. This one chases me too, and walks anxiously in front of me like a cat or a dog would that’s waiting to be fed.

I had a dream about Nervous last night. Nervous hates hot climates, so I thought it was really weird that I’d run into him in a shopping plaza here in Phoenix. Especially when he’s supposed to be dead. So I called out, “Nervous!”

But he just looked at me as if he didn’t know me. I said, “Nervous” again, but he still looked confused. Then I said, “Kevin T?”

He shook his head, saying that wasn’t him. Then he said that Kevin T was his name and that he didn’t know me. Then I woke up.

As expected, Tom shows no desire for sex and doesn’t seem horny at all, but we’ll see. If he initiates sex, it probably won’t be till toward the end of my day. I’m sure he’s gonna want to wait till the last minute, right as I’m getting really tired, so as to get as far as he can into his day, so he’s more tired and less apt to be able to screw longer, if at all.

Later…

Oh my God! Oh my God! Oh my God! Tom came like hell! Yes, he really did! I just don’t believe it, but I do! It was as obvious as this black print. I am so shocked and happy, yet you can bet your ass I feel so guilty! And all this time I called him a liar. Never will there ever be any room in my mind to doubt Tom about sex and a kid (unless God still forbids me to conceive). Nor do I have any room left in my mind to doubt Robin. She’s been absolutely right so far.

FRIDAY, JULY 5, 1996 I didn’t hear very many fireworks at all last night.

They just came home next door quietly. They seem to be leaving earlier and returning later which is perfectly OK with me.

Robin came to talk to me yesterday in the wee hours of the morning. She’s still saying the same things - Tom’s not lying, I’ll be pregnant soon, and don’t worry about my schedule or handling things.

Tom says no, not all women feel it when a guy cums in her. Kim said that too, but is this really true, or is he saying it so he can lie about cumming? Why do I feel he’d rather find a way for me to believe the DES sterilized me, rather than it be his fault for really not cumming?

Anyway, I told him I was gonna try real hard to take him for face value and that I was gonna fully put my trust into his hands and he can either prove himself honest or really break my heart and play with my head.

He says that the only reason he’s seemed emotionless and unsurprised over this cumming is cuz he knew he would eventually do so. He also says the reason why he hasn’t felt sad or angry over not having a kid is cuz he doesn’t believe we can’t have one.

I wonder, though, why didn’t he tell me when we first met that there have been some women he’s never cum with if that were the case?

Later…

I just worked out, which I still am doing nearly every day. I see a difference in my gut and inner thighs, but I still have an awful lot of craters in the backs of my thighs.

I did some reading and finished up my floral frames in my sketchbook. Maybe later I’ll start working on journal covers. The plain white ones.

When I told Tom how I believe we’ll be hit with one thing after another after his dad goes, he said almost anything else that could happen would be nothing compared to losing his father. According to Tom, his dad’s the greatest person he’s ever known. I think the only things worse than his dad dying, in his opinion, would probably be if the house burned down, if his computer stuff all disappeared, if I died or left, and if I got pregnant. After all, I don’t have to try taking him for face value in my journals.

I had some funny dreams last night. Tom and I lived in some other house that sort of had split levels, was a little bigger, and had two stories. It had a weird design, but as an artist, I like that sort of thing. I only remember a couple of quick scenes. There was a room that was sort of like a good-sized pantry with big, long, fat, unfinished wooden shelves. I told Tom I picked an area on the shelves for all his magazines. Tom said, “Oh, no. My magazines won’t touch unfinished wood. I won’t have that.” So we agreed to get paint for the shelves. Later, though, after I saw he never got the paint, I questioned him about it and he said, “Why do you always take me so seriously? Don’t you know some people just like to make small talk? I was never really gonna get paint.” So I told him I was gonna use the shelves for myself. As I was in the process of putting stuff on them, my first cousins Lori and Lisa G showed up to give me old clothes of theirs. They didn’t look like Lori and Lisa really do, though, cuz both their figures were just right. In reality, Lori’s bone-thin and Lisa’s huge. Of course, they were geeky clothes from the 70s and all I like from the 70s is its music.

Then, Tom was coming up the stairs with some girl in her early 20s and they didn’t know I was just waking up and coming out of my room when I heard Tom say, “We have to be quiet, cuz if we wake my wife up, we’ll get bitched out.” Then they giggled.

As I was walking to a little store, in the dream, one of my birds jumped on my shoulder. When I entered the store, a guy behind the counter said, “Oh, no. You’re not coming in here with that.” So I explained to him how I just needed a few things, I’d be real quick, and trying to get the bird off my shoulder and to stay home did me no good. I also told him that if the bird crapped, it wouldn’t crap on the floor, cuz it’d hit my back first. Then I began walking home and ran into a couple of people I knew. As we began chatting all my birds came and flew in all around us. I reassured the people not to panic or worry, they were just my birds and my flock always followed me. Then I was on my way to bed again. The birds were in the house, so I ran real fast into my room and slammed the door so they couldn’t follow me in there. They tried to fly in with me. Then I scanned the room to make sure there were no birds in there so I could go to bed.

Weird dreams, huh? I told Tom, who got a kick out of it.

Now I’m gonna go write a little in Andy’s journal, before decorating a journal cover.

Later…

Tom’s up now. He told me to wake him up at 5:00, but the other day he told me he liked the idea of getting up at 4:30. I guess it’s to leave us no time for sex. He takes a half-hour to get ready, almost a half-hour to eat, then he needs time to digest.

I really feel that the reason why he hasn’t touched me goes beyond the stress he’s been having. He himself said his dad’s situation didn’t stop him from cumming and that cumming or not cumming has lots of factors involved. I think part of it is his patience pushing game, to make me wait to see what he does next time. Meaning that he probably knows I’m anxious to have sex again to see what happens, so he’s keeping me in suspense.

If he really did cum, he’s still acting very scared and nervous about us screwing. Especially at this time of the month. Tomorrow I’m mid-cycle and watch - without my saying a word about it, he won’t touch me tomorrow, so it isn’t a matter of my behavior. It’s both him and God I’m sure. Tom believes, though, that there are 10 days a month a woman’s fertile. Not 1-3. Well, I’ve always heard and read it’s 14 days after your period that you’re most likely to conceive and I think he knows this, too. The two times he claimed to cum were both times when it was virtually impossible to get pregnant. If he touches me tomorrow, I wouldn’t be surprised if he only wanted to go down on me or screw sideways.

THURSDAY, JULY 4, 1996 I don’t want to see any of the Little House stuff live. I’ll watch it when it’s over in a couple of hours so I can zip through the commercials. I’m sure I’ve already seen all these shows and movies anyway.

I’m gonna go now and color in my floral outline. First, though, if he really came the last time we screwed, then it’s scared him to death, cuz he hasn’t touched me since. He went down on me earlier, but that was only cuz I asked him to.

What is it with these people? Tom and his mother say they notice I’m not hearing as well and Andy said I was being like a one-eared person again, but I haven’t noticed it. I don’t think I’ve noticed any problems, anyway. My good ear was itching, though, so I dewaxed it.

WEDNESDAY, JULY 3, 1996 Yesterday morning I left Tom a message saying I was sorry for bringing up my problems when he’s got enough of his own. I told him that the only thing that didn’t go over well with me was when he said he wouldn’t associate with me if I danced. He later clarified me on that, though. He said it wasn’t that he’d not associate with me ever, but that he wouldn’t want to associate with me if I felt my boredom and my need to work right this minute were more important than his dad. I don’t think my boredom or need to have more responsibility and my desire to fulfill my dreams is ever more important than anything in his eyes. He said, though, that other than this stuff with his dad, if his arm fell off, my worries and dreams would be more important.

Yeah, right! I still don’t know if I can believe he really came. But only he can know what his body really felt. This is just like that other time 2.5 years ago. Will another 2.5 years go by before he claims to have another orgasm?

I was at Andy’s earlier and he still says what I always thought - that a woman should feel a guy cum in her. But Kim says guys have cum in her for sure, but she couldn’t feel it. I just don’t know what to make of all this or what to believe. Andy agrees that it sounds too good to be true and that yes, he’s probably lying. Why would he bother to lie, I asked? Andy’s answer was, cuz Tom’s an American and we’re all uptight about sex and that some people don’t like sex. Well, he sure likes hard-ons more often these days.

Shortly after he came home, he said he needed to talk and I told him, “You said you were sick of me. And I needed to talk to you yesterday and got nowhere, so why should I listen to you?”

He said that was fair, then, “I take that back. This is not fair. Every other time I’ve listened to you and I shouldn’t be punished for not hearing you out last night or being able to deal with it cuz I had a problem and my state of mind wasn’t great.”

Yeah, he had a point, but it wasn’t every other time that he’s listened to me and dealt with me. Every few times, or so, he just can’t tolerate what I have to say and he’d rather not hear it. I’m sorry I burdened him, though, with stuff he and anyone else could never fix or help. I’m sorry I brought up shit he doesn’t want to hear, can’t deal with, can’t understand and that turns him off. I shouldn’t bring it up ever, but especially not while his father’s dying.

Time will tell if he’s lying about phase 2. Right now, though, it just seems like pure bullshit that’s too good to be true.

I wasn’t at Andy’s long. Due to it being so hot and kind of humid, it was too hot in his place with the EC and his AC was broken and useless.

I surprisingly got more done on the cat than expected and next time I’ll finish it for sure.

I never met Laura cuz she was asleep. That “art thing” she had for me was just tracing paper. I told Andy to thank her anyway, but I didn’t want it. I already have some that I never use.

He gave me a black and white picture of Gloria that’s about 18” tall and 5” wide. It’s OK. It’s just there, but not bad. I put it in the kitchen.

The shower curtain he gave us is gorgeous. It’s totally me with soft splashes of pastel colors in a faint flower design. It just brought our tiny bathroom to life. The other one was too dark and kind of ugly, but this one’s bright and cheerful.

I showed Andy the journals he’s never seen and my latest artwork. He was quite impressed. He loved this journal and the floral design with all kinds of plants, flowers, colors and detail.

Tammy should get her floral envelope today, if not yesterday and I’m mailing some out today to my parents, Larry and Anna and Harry.

Later…

Got another plate in the mail I didn't pay for. It’s of a little girl playing with a bunny. So now I have 6 plates and I would’ve had 7 if I didn’t accidentally smash one a few years ago.

Remember the message I left on AOL to find Robin? Well, here are the two different replies I got from them. Parts of them anyway. It said:

Your announcement in “Missing but not Forgotten” section will probably be read by someone who can help you. When you submit your announcement, you grant GL staff and its affiliates the privilege of reproducing and distributing it unaltered, in any digital form, and indefinitely. This means you give us the “privilege” or permission to print your unaltered announcement in GL newsletter or Webzine for as long as possible. Announcements in this free section will be published for about 2-3 months. If the missing persons are still not located after that time period, the announcements will be posted in GL 96 Webzine for about 1 year.

After I replied to this and asked how to post my name and other stuff, I got a second reply saying:

Jodi,

I’ve condensed your announcement to 3 lines:

Pls help me find a former counselor, Robin R., at Camp Naomi (now Camp Nashobe North) in Raymond, ME. 20 years ago was 5’ 5” (160 cm), slim, brown hair & eyes, with small, furry mutt. Pls write Jodi O. (email addy) w/ any info.

Then they asked me to verify its accuracy and I told them to go ahead and post it. This is hardly enough info, but all the info in the world will do me no good. I just had to do this for the hell of it, though. How do they know if someone’s located a person after 2-3 months in order to know whether to post it in that other area for a year?

Later…

Tom’s up now and I’ll probably be up another few hours. Don’t know what I’ll do, though. Maybe I’ll draw.

I’m watching Linda Ronstadt and Aaron Neville now, performing at the White House. I was hoping she’d do that Dreams to Dream song, but so far, she hasn’t.

She looks terrible. No wonder she always wears black. She’s so fat and has such a fat neck, face, and double chin.

I got a nice Little House treat. They’re doing a tribute to Michael Landon, so I’m taping 9 hours’ worth of movies they’re running now.

I don’t believe Linda’s singing You’re No Good. I haven’t heard her do her older stuff from the 70s and 80s in ages.

I forgot to say, but my announcement about Robin won’t be posted/published till July 14th. I wonder how many people will leave me false clues and leads? Will anyone just “think” they can help me?

Linda was just saying how she and Aaron can see each and every one of the audience members and they’re not used to that. They aren’t? Haven’t they done enough daytime concerts outdoors by now?

The hit floral envelopes I’ve been doing, I’m now doing in my sketchbook. I still haven’t begun decorating journals yet. I just did a quick half-assed set of flowers in the back of this book.

TUESDAY, JULY 2, 1996 I still feel so trapped and like I’m in a rut I’ll never get out of. I don’t want to take medication to help numb my emotions cuz that costs money and side effects. I can’t do what I want to do in life, I can’t get up the nerve to settle, and I don’t want to do nothing forever.

I thoroughly regret talking to Tom about my feelings and concerns. His dad’s number one now, not me and my problems. But in talking to him, I really learned just how selfish, manipulative, and controlling he really is. He told me that I’m free to do what I want and that he’ll always love me, but he won’t want to associate with me if I dance and he won’t drive me there for an audition.

See? I always knew I had to be only what he wants me to be. I would never say that to someone I’m supposed to love. I would never not drive them to wherever they wanted to go and tell them that I wouldn’t associate with them just cuz they were doing something I didn’t agree with. He doesn’t want me to dance. He won’t allow me a child, so what does that leave me with? Just his false promises? He’s got the sperm and he’s in control of that, but I’ll bet you if I could just yank it inside me, the truth would come out and he’d tell me he wouldn’t associate with me if I got pregnant. I always have to be and do what he wants me to be and do. All my life I’ve had dreams that I couldn’t turn into reality cuz there was something or someone in my way or it was something I just couldn’t do anyway. Am I ever gonna have a dream that’s realistic that I can get into and maintain and handle without God or other people stopping me?

If he really did cum and if we really are (or were), in phase 2 like he said to me earlier, then did God influence my mood to come out and make us both worse to send him back in time sexually? If he was lying, then is that why he said he didn’t want me on birth control after agreeing with me to ditch all our plans? Did he say no to birth control figuring he’d just go back to his old ways of not cumming, if he did cum at all, or did he not cum, knows it, and said no cuz he intends to keep not cumming?

The reason why I suggested dropping all our plans, the cigarette machine, the kid and whatever else, is cuz I thought it’d be the only way to help make things better. This way I’ll only have to feel sad about never being able to have these things anyway. But I should feel less angry, cuz now there’ll be nothing for him to have promised me that he didn’t deliver on to piss me off. If he just doesn’t promise me anything, whether he meant to keep his promise or not, and whether God would allow it or not, then maybe I’ll have less reason to be angry at him. Just sad over knowing I’ll never get the things I really want.

He said he was sick of me and turned all my feelings that I had for him and life into an attack on me. I asked him if he’s sick of me, does he want me gone?

No, he said.

Well, I don’t want to be around anyone who’s sick of me, so I’ll just stay away from him as much as I can. I wish I could fight back and take and control him for a change and really show him what it’s like to be molded into something someone else wants him to be, but I just can’t do that. I can’t stoop myself that low and not feel guilty and if I’ve ever controlled him in any way, it was never intended. But how would he like it if I told him that if he went to the racetrack I wouldn’t associate with him? How would he like it if I promised him things that meant little and a lot to him and never came through with my promise? And all the while appear like I don’t understand or want to help us in any way. He never wanted to go to a doctor and he never will. He’d do anything to keep things as they are. The only changes he won’t fight are those that suit him. He’d love to have the bills paid and all kinds of computer goodies, which is fine, but he’ll do anything to keep me from getting pregnant no matter what the price is. Speaking of prices, I really firmly believe that first, he’s gonna desperately find some cover-up as to why we could never have a kid to try to use that as a legit excuse. But if that doesn’t work, he’ll say anything, unless he ever just comes out and spits out the truth.

What made him the way he is? I know no one’s perfect and I know we all have our dark sides, but how can such a great person have such a tremendously dark, dark, dark side at the same time? Why can’t he admit all his fears and all the things he doesn’t want in life? Why only some of them? Does he really get off telling me what I want to hear whether he’s telling the truth or not? When I factor in everything I’ve ever done wrong in this relationship, it doesn’t seem that the punishment of lying about a kid fits the crime. And also, if I were that bad in his eyes, then what does he want me around for? What else could’ve happened to him in his life to make him the way he is? Who else could’ve hurt him to make him this way? This control, lying and denial can’t be just because. It’s got to have stemmed from somewhere.

The fact that he agreed with me to throw away our plans tells me yet again that he’s a liar. He says he never gives up and doesn’t believe in quitting. Maybe he’s gonna use this agreement as the perfect way to get off the hook and cover for the truth, but who the fuck knows? Who the fuck knows anything for sure anymore? Half the things in this world I see or hear are total bullshit. Just an illusion. Nothing’s always as it appears to look or sound.

Sometimes I don’t know what’s worse, the lies he’s told me, or the fact that he denies lying to me. Will he ever admit he never wanted a kid? Will he ever admit that he sometimes got a kick out of not doing things he said he would or doing them much later? Instead of helping Wendy with her computer problems, he could’ve worked on the cigarette machine, but it seems he spends the bulk of his free time in front of the TV or at the computer. I know he doesn’t have a whole heck of a lot of free time, but isn’t there any way he can balance and organize his time better? Maybe that’s just something that’s easier for him to say or think about than do, just like it’s easier for me to wish I could quit smoking or cut down than do so.

I asked Tammy if she felt it was possible for him to have a missed orgasm. At first she wasn’t sure, then she said she guessed so. I don’t know what to believe, but I still feel that as sad and as hard as it is, I must forget about all my dreams as much as I can and keep my mouth shut. All the talk and wishing in the world won’t bring my dreams to reality anyway. That’s why they call them “dreams,” cuz a dream is just that - a dream.

Yesterday Tom peeked into the nest out back while Mama Bird was gone. There were two eggs in there, but who knows if they’re fertile?

MONDAY, JULY 1, 1996 A few days ago, in my email, there was a message about two new free areas and one of the highlights was ‘Lost, but not Forgotten’. So I checked it out and there were a couple of ads from people looking for other people. I replied to this thing and let them know I was looking for someone too. Then they replied to my message saying something about how I wanted my name published and then they mentioned shortening my ad. So, I asked them to be more specific as to what they mean by how I want my name published. Do they want my screen name or my maiden and married name, which may be helpful? Do they want me to rewrite my ad? Do they want me to give additional information? We’ll see what they say, and I also left a message for Tom to give me his feedback and or advice. They said something about it being posted for 3 months in one place, then if that doesn’t help me, they’ll post it elsewhere for a year.

Is this a coincidence? I just begged God and Robin to please help me get her real name. I guess the curiosity has rekindled itself, but I can’t say I’m as curious as I was last year when this all began. I can bet all these journals, though, that I’ll never find out a damn thing about her. Robin was right about this weekend. Not a sound other than a few 10-second music sessions as they were coming in. It was tolerable, though, and wouldn’t wake me up or shake the house down.

I just don’t know about all this other stuff, though. It just seems too unreal. To think that Tom will be getting off regularly after all this time is almost as far-fetched of an idea as is the idea of me getting pregnant. I told him earlier that if he had a mini orgasm, it should be a regular thing from now on and that it’s hard to believe we’re in phase 2 now, which is waiting to see if the DES got me as I fear it has (besides God). We agreed to give it a few months, though, and I told him that if I weren’t pregnant by New Year’s, then it’s over. At least I can feel better about knowing I can’t have a kid cuz God and the DES said so and not him.

What if he’s lying, though? What if he never came at all and never will, but will still insist that he did be it slightly or immensely? Is he now thinking, “Great. She believes I’m cumming when I’m really not and this is my ticket to getting off the hook. Now she can blame just God and the DES and not me.” He was acting kind of weird too. He had a look about him as if to suggest he was saying to me in his head, “You’re dreaming. I haven’t cum and I won’t cum.” He also seemed to possess a look of guilt. That time I went off on him with how he comes through on his word to others, but not me, was the first time he seemed guilty and like he realized what this has done to me, so maybe that’s why he hasn’t touched me all weekend. Maybe he’s just now really starting to feel guilty about lying before and about lying now, if this is truly the case. He says I didn’t do anything to turn him off and that he’s just been tired. He also seemed emotionless and not at all surprised about cumming. I’d think that if I truly couldn’t cum, but then did, I’d be elated. Especially if I wanted to enjoy how great it feels and especially if I wanted a kid.

I asked him if this were his secret. He hesitated a moment, then said no.

He said I seemed absent-minded yesterday and like something was bothering me, but nope. Nothing’s bothering me other than the usual bullshit. I just hope he’s telling the truth and that I just didn’t set myself up to fall into a trap. Has my willingness to take him and Robin for face value gotten him off the hook if he really is lying? Is this gonna cause him to swear he’s been cumming and therefore tell me I have no right to be angry at him and that we need not see a doctor? Did I just let him off the hook and provide him with the perfect cover-up for the truth if he’s still lying?

I asked him if it was cuz his missed orgasm scared him or worried him or made him feel overwhelmed in any way and he said no. I asked him if he’s ever had a missed orgasm before in his life and he said he’s had a wide variety of orgasms. Then why did he say, “I think I know what you mean about a missed orgasm,” the last time we screwed as if it was his first one?

I told Tom that if I was absent-minded today, it was probably mainly due to the heat and shock. I told him it hasn’t hit me yet that we’re in phase 2 and that he came and will do so regularly, so it should seem. I guess it’s like when a loved one of yours dies. It doesn’t always hit you right away. It takes time to sink in. After 2.5 years, it all just seems so incredible and so hard to believe. It’s like - this is it? All our sexual problems are solved? Now all we have to do is wait and see if I conceive? I asked him if I’d feel his cum in me here and there and he said yes. If he said he doubted it or if I don’t ever feel it, then I’ll go back to feeling like I’ve always felt about him and his true intentions, not that they’ve exactly changed yet. It’s too soon. Too soon to believe. It all sounds too good to be true and I still have to see more evidence of change, so to speak. I need something more tangible to prove that he’s not putting me on. I need to see or feel his cum. I guess only time will tell if Tom and Robin are full of it or not and if God will allow us a child. I just don’t see it, though.

Later…

I am in such a foul mood right now. Sometimes I really want to go outside and hang myself from one of the hooks on the patio. It’d do everyone a favor, including myself whose life is really over.

I should’ve known better than to talk to Tom. Why can’t I be one of those who never talks? I’ve always wished I were that way. I wish I were like Brenda was. The last few times I talked to Tom, he made me feel better, but not tonight. We both only ended up feeling worse.

It started when he told me that his dad can no longer control his number 2s. I felt so bad for him and Ma and then this also scared the shit out of me. Growing old seems more depressing and scary all the time. They’ve got kids to take care of them, but who will take care of us when we’re old? Since we’ll never have a kid, who will take care of us?

[twilightangel83]

Welp. This is in my brain now. For better or for worse. So here you go.

———

A little while after his conversation with Damian Jason starts standing up for himself. Not physically, but verbally. And if he’s defending someone else too, someone they don’t even know, then that’s just between him and his youngest brother.

“I was just a kid you know.” It’s an off the wall statement made after one of the increasingly more common shared patrols. And is has the rest of the Bat Clan looking at Jason in confusion. Jason, for his part, is standing by his motorcycle, looking down at the helmet he’d just pulled off with a frown.

“What?” And that’s Dick, confused, but prompting. Always wanting to be there when one of their siblings open up.

“I was just a kid,” Jason repeats, looking up from his helmet to frown at them. “I’ve heard about what you lot said about me before I came back, and I’ve heard plenty from all of you now, but before all of this—before The Joker—I was just a kid from a bad home in a bad part of town. I didn’t really care about being a vigilante. No big goal or vengeance planned like Dick Wing had when he became Robin. I was just a kid that wanted his new dad to pay love him. To pay attention to him. And since all his time and focus went into being Batman then the best idea I could think of to get that attention was to become a part of that world.

“So I did. And it worked great! At least until it didn’t.” He looked back at his helmet. “I wasn’t ever a very good Robin. Too much Crime Alley in me I guess. So when an awful guy died on my watch well—” he shrugged and met Batman’s eyes then “It didn’t matter if it was on purpose or not. Because my dad wasn’t interested in listening to my explanation. He was convinced it was a sign I was too violent. Too volatile. So I was benched. I wasn’t good enough to be Robin. Too dark. Too dangerous. Too much of a kid from Crime Alley.”

Batman-no Bruce, the cowl is off and the man looks stricken, but Jason shakes his head sharply.

“Maybe that’s not what you meant it to be. But I was fifteen. That’s how I took it. So when I found out I still had a mother out there—someone who was supposed to love me no matter what— can you really blame me for running off to meet her? Sure it was dumb, but kids do dumb things all the time! Angry and hurt kids especially. So I ran away from home to find her. And was brutally murdered for my troubles. For daring to reach out for the person who *should* have cared about me above all others.” He sighed, placing his helmet ok the handles of his bike. “Just something to keep in mind.”

“What-what brought all this on?” Tim sounded a bit lost, but he seemed better off than Bruce or Dick at least. Jason shrugged.

“Like I said. I’ve heard plenty about the things you and Bruce here said about me while I was gone. And Signal’s never been quiet about what he thought about me. So I figured I’d make sure you had your facts straight. I wasn’t some cautionary tale. Or some jerk rebel who ran off and ignored orders to cause trouble. I was just a kid.”

And with that, he turned and started upstairs, leaving a floundering family behind him. All but one. In the emotional chaos the others almost missed his their youngest darted up the stairs to fall into step beside the young crime lord. Walking close enough to brush arms.

Almost. Well. That might answer how he knew about some of the things that were said.

In the Danny is Damian’s brother trope what if instead of Damian not telling the family about Danny wasn’t because of grief or shame or any of the more commonly used reasons for his silence. What if it was because he heard about how his father talked about Jason after his death, focusing and exaggerating the negative. That he was violent, angry, never listened to orders but in some iterations and popular fanon is that Jason was a cheerful and studious Robin.

What if while compiling info and researching the former robins during his tumultuous introduction he saw what kind of robin Jason was, good with kids and victims. Talking about his favorite books while on patrol and similar. Reminding Damian of his most Beloved brother.

Then he finds out about how Bruce talked about Jason after he died. Using him as an example as what not to do, erasing his good traits and just using him as a cautionary tale of what happens when you don’t follow orders. Just like what Ra’s said about Danny.

So he didn’t tell the family, not out of guilt or grief. But because his father stripped away Jason’s positive traits after death, the son he chose, adopted and loved. Who when he failed because he was a child led astray by his mother. What would he do to his brother, who loved the stars and excelled in stealth, who was quite in his kills but had no lust for killing.

Whether or not Bruce would do this to Danny’s memory doesn’t matter. B’s actions are gonna affect how Damian views his father even years after the initial actions. Because Damian will protect his brothers memory from being twisted even by their father.

[ohtobeleah]

Chaos // Bradley Bradshaw

Chapter Three: The Other Women

Summary: Things were good between you and Rooster for what felt like a total of one whole minute before your entire world came crashing down around you—just like you knew it would. It’s always the same, the more you fuck around? The more you find out.

Warnings: Angst. Fluff. SMUT—absolutely pitiful writing. (Heterosexual) Bradley Bradshaw x female reader.

Word Count: 6.6k

Author Note: EEP! I’ve been waiting to this chapter to go live since I finished editing it. So here it is! I couldn’t wait. Also, let’s play a little game—how many lines from popular songs can you spot!Have a lovely night and see you next week!

You weren’t a closed off kid. In fact you were the exact opposite. You’d talk to anyone about anything as long as they were willing to give you the time of day. But as you got older, you noticed how the people that mattered most to you seemed to vanish into thin air. You started to develop incredibly unhealthy abandonment issues—which at its current, were as heavy and all consuming as they were going to get.

It would be easy to blame it on the fact your dad had given up his fight against throat cancer, or blame Pete Mitchell for basically going MIA for months at a time without so much of an update. You could blame your wingman, Sam for dying when he said he’d see you tomorrow, but that would be selfish. Mainly you blamed your

issues on Bradley Bradshaw—because of all people he was the one who’d slip back in seamlessly, only to break your heart again every damn time. But most of all you blame yourself for letting him do it.

“WHAT IS THE MATTER WITH YOU!” Pete shouted as your feet hit the floor. Rooster and Bob standing nearby as they watched you squeeze your throbbing right hand.

“He had it coming!”

“That wasn’t my question Chaos—I asked what the hell is the matter with you!?” Clenching your jaw you looked at Rooster before your eyes fell to Bob. Sighing, he threw the piece of ginger you’d slipped into his coffee mug when he wasn't looking this morning your way. Catching it with your left. His way of saying tell them everything because he sure as shit wasn’t going to. It was your story to tell. “Answer me—“

“I lost my wingman—“ It was the first time you were saying it out loud. Holding back tears as you looked to Rooster. His own heart breaking for you. “It was a routine training mission, Bob was there, he honestly should have been my back seater for this detachment but I didn’t want to fly with someone again. Didn’t want to be held accountable.” It wasn't an easy decision to give Bob up. He'd been the best back seater you’d ever flown with. But you couldn't do it again. Didn't want to do it again. Something about being responsible for another person in your cockpit made you feel weak, made you tremble in fear and that wasn't something you liked to admit. You didn't play well with others, but you’d easily tolerate Rober Floyd.

“Hangman pulled your file—“ Rooster interjected as you nodded softly in response. Your hand brushed and swollen. “That’s how he knew how to get to you?”

“He was supposed to be fine, it was just a bird strike he–he ejected into the water, ditched the jet—God there wasn’t a scratch on him.” Bob could hear your screams in his head still to this day. Having had to drag you kicking and screaming from the hospital the next day. “I told him I didn’t wanna leave him, said I’d sleep in the corner of the hospital room in one of those really uncomfortable chairs.” Scoffing you felt blood dripping from the cuts Hangman’s jaw had caused your knuckles. “He died of a brain haemorrhage, his helmet was faulty because he had a tendency to drop it.” You explained, your voice soft. Almost inaudible. “I left him and he died and I can’t take that back.”

“One, don’t drop your helmet, it could be the only thing that saves your goddamn life one day.” Rooster heard you repeat inside his head from yesterday. He didn’t realise it at the time but you were watching his back, not just being overly cautious. Not just being annoying.

“I won’t tolerate reckless behaviour in my classroom, or fraternisation in the workplace for that matter.” Pete reminded you and warned Rooster as your head hung low. “Get yourself together, cool off, and meet me and the rest of the crew down by the beach at five.”

“Sir?” Bob stopped Maverick before he left the room. “Chaos is one of the best pilots I’ve ever worked with, if you’re about to talk to the admirals? If they do decide to pull her? Please know that could be one of the worst things they could do for this mission's success.”

“Noted Lieutenant—“ Maverick smirked. “Noted.” Bob was hesitant to leave as you stood trying to compose yourself, Rooster having already made his way over to the small kitchenette to fish a handful of ice out of the freezer. Packing it into a clean cloth nearby.

“I got her.” Rooster softly assured the quiet weapons systems officer. Giving him the all clear to leave the room. Bob looked you up and down on final time. He’d heard alot about the man who liked to play tennis with your feelings, with your heart. Bob felt an overwhelming sense of protectiveness for you. Stepping closer to where Rooster stood. His balls suddenly in his throat.

“All due respect Rooster, if you even think about breaking her heart again—“ Bob paused for a moment as he looked at you over Rooster's shoulder. Now sitting on the nearest table. Legs hanging over the edge. “I’ll kill you.” It wasn’t like Bob to threaten people, but when it came to the people he cared about? He’d do just about anything.

“I wouldn't dream of it, Bob.” Rooster assured him, watching as he nodded– accepting the reality of the situation that was playing out. Leaving you two alone, Bob left the room, his stomach unsettled because you blame yourself too much for the things you couldn't control. Wishing for a moment he could take just an ounce of the weight you placed on your shoulders.

Standing in his place for a moment, Rooster sighed deeply before he made his way over to you, jumping up onto the table beside you with a small audible huff.

“It’s always the weapons systems officers who end up scaring the crap out of me.” Rooster chuckled as he came to sit beside you, his knee bumping yours he sat that close. Smirking, you took the makeshift ice pack Rooster handed over.

“Bob's good people, he really held me together there for a while.” Placing the ice pack over your knuckles as you let your head fall against Rooster’s shoulder. He didn't reply straight away, he simply smiled softly as the feeling of being so domestically close to you. Enjoying the simplicity of the interaction. Nothing ever seemed so simple with you anymore, that was mainly his own fault.

“I wish you would have told me.” Rooster broke the silence as he shoulder bumped yours. Your head lulling off his shoulder as you looked at him. “I would have been there in a heartbeat for you.”

“Please, you wouldn’t have raised an eyebrow, Bradshaw.” You spoke way too softly, Rooster hated seeing you like this. “I didn’t—I don’t.” You corrected yourself. “Wanna let you in again because I know when I do it’s gonna hurt like hell,, you leave me every time I let my guard down.”

“You know I never meant to hurt you.”

“But you do anyway.” You were quick to justify why you had become so closed off. “You do anyway Rooster and I tell myself every time that you don’t mean to but it doesn’t change the fact I’m left pulling myself together again after Hurricane Bradshaw leaves a trail of destruction.” Pushing yourself off the table you stood before Rooster. His hands instantly drawing you closer to him by your hips. Standing between his legs as he listened to you. His eyes trailing from your eyes to your lips.

“You're heartless, cruel, you take miles from inches Rooster and we never get to finish what we start.” Rooster took notice that whenever he was without you—birds didn’t sing. There was no joy, no one to come home to. Sure he had a fling with some girl called Lindsey in his brief stint in New York but he couldn't commit. Birds stopped singing whenever you weren’t in his life and perhaps that was just something he noticed. Something small you took with you each and every time along with his heart, his ability to love. But as you stood between his legs, his fingertips curled into your hips. The birds outside the window had a reason to sing again. Removing a hand from your hip to burst the hair that had fallen effortlessly across the side of your face behind your ear. Cupping your cheek as he noticed your eyes trailing down to his lips then back to his eyes. “You really really don’t wanna do this.” You mumbled, warning Rooster.

“Are you trying to convince yourself?” Rooster smirked as he pulled you down into him. His lips on yours in a hot, needy mess. Both his hands cupping your cheeks. His tongue dancing with yours as you gave him more access to deepen the kiss.

“I don’t know how to properly explain how I feel about you.” Rooster broke the kiss. Letting his forehead rest against yours. “I run because the way I feel about you scares the shit out of me, I’m scared to lose you so I push you away, I think if I push you that maybe it’ll hurt less.”

“What did I call you yesterday? You teased as your forehead fell against Roosters. His hands trailing down your body to fall against your ass. Keeping you close to him as you stood between his legs.

“You called me Dumb–”

“Yeah.” kissing Rooster was as addictive as adrenaline to an adrenaline junkie. It was also just as life threatening. “Seems pretty accurate.” Things were complicated to say the very least. On one hand? Rooster was home. He always was and always would be home. But like one of those disgruntled, abusive manipulative homes? The ones where you just love them too much to see how much damage they’re actually doing until it’s far too late. Yeah—that was Bradley Bradshaw. “You’re no good for me, Rooster.”

“I know—“ You were expecting Rooster to put up some sort of fight, give you some complicated argument that turned the tables back onto you. But he didn’t. Rooster simply pulled back, his forehand disappearing from yours so he could get a good look at you and everything that made you. “Believe me, I know.” It was the way he said it that had your heart melting. Apologetic, self aware. “I don’t bring much to the table, and trust me I know everything that’s ever happened with us has been a direct chain link reaction because of something I did—but.” As Rooster spoke, your fingers played gently with the buttons of his flight suit. Your eyes hooded on his chest. “But none of that, no matter how bad things have gotten? I couldn’t stop loving you if I tried.” Something inside the pit of your stomach dropped—not in at oh you were going to be sick kinda stomach drop. But in an oh fuck am I really gonna fall for this bullshit again? Kinda way. Had the handful of times you’d dated Bradley Bradshaw in the past really taught you nothing? Staring at Rooster his eyes begged, pleading with you to say something—anything.

“Perhaps, maybe—if you're willing to try again? I’d be willing as well?” It wasn’t a definitive statement, more so a lingering question. But nevertheless it sparked Roosters curiosity bringing his arms down again to scoop you forward and into him by your waist.

“Is that so?” He teased. Kissing you softly as he kissed him back. Lips melting almost perfectly together.

“Very slowly, at a snail’s pace.” You cooed as Rooster smirked back at you. Kissing you again only this time with more behind it. His tongue slowly ran across your bottom lip as he begged for entry. Wanting, no—needing more of you.

“Is this slow enough?” Rooster knew he was already approaching supersonic, but the way you stared at him? Biting your bottom lip as you chuckled and smirked wildly, was worth it.

“Slower.” You reminded him, your voice hiding whatever anxiety you were feeling in the pit of your stomach about feeling so vulnerable, so open. But whatever it was it all went away when Roosters lips were on your once again. Slowly, passionately. His hands cupping your cheeks as yours rested on his knees. Pushing yourself up an inch or two onto your toes.

“Okay, sure—what about now?” Pulling away breathless Roosted dared to ask you one more time, looking for any sign to slow down despite your obvious explication. All you could do was laugh at yourself, at how pathetic you felt in the palms of his hands. Safe, secure—in the most dangerous position of all.

“You’re becoming an occupational hazard Rooster.” Pushing away, you turned on your heels, sinking your teeth softly into your lip to once again stop yourself from smirking too wide. Too obviously smitten with the man of your dreams and your nightmares. “I’ll meet you at the Beach.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

“You got a hot date or something afterwards Bradshaw?” Mickey Garcia or as you’d known him by his call sign—Fanboy, teased a very sweaty, very shirtless, very ripped Rooster. You hadn’t really been able to take your eyes off him for the entire game of dogfight football. Rooster knew it too. He would deny it, but he’d been showing off just for you. Flexing his muscles, getting down and dirty. Wandering hands found their way to every part of you too—without shame, without a care. But now? He was flaunting his ego a little too much.

You had him right where you wanted him. Bending over in an attack position—ready to take off running down the beach the moment the whistle blew. You knew he was yours. “Wish someone would take me out!”

“What, on a date or with a sniper?” Rooster shouted back as he laughed, looking your way as you geared up to tackle Mickey.

“Surprise me!” Fanboy laughed, pushing his sunglasses up the bridge of his nose just as the whistle blew. Watching as you came sprinting his way. “Oh fuck—“ with a sudden clap of skin contacting skin and a subtly Oof, you and Mickey crashed to the wet sand below. Landing on top of him as the group whistled and cheered. “Jesus Christ, where did you come from!” Fanboy beamed as he let his head rest against the same, feeling you disappear from on top of him as you offered him a hand. Helping him up.

“You were too busy eyeing off Roosters abs, you may as well have had a giant red target on your chest.” Tapping his back softly, you walked side by side.

“Am I stepping on your toes Kazansky?” Fanboy cooed, knowing there was something between you and Rooster he could tease. “Don’t wanna share?”

“Unfortunately I’m not into polygamy, so no, Garcia—keep your eyes off what’s mine.” You could see Rooster out of the corner of your eye. He’d already fallen into the routine of just knowing where you were. Taking in the way you looked so effortlessly immaculate in your shorts, hidden by the cuff off the oversized shirt that adorned your body—deciding that Bob shouldn’t be the only person playing shirts.

“Ohh she’s claimed a camp. That’s cool that’s cool—I’ve still got my one and only.” Fanboy was pure. He was good people, the more time you spent getting to know the different TopGun pilots you knew they’d give anything to protect their own. Everyone except maybe Jake Seresin.

“Left or right?” You teased, questioning the back seater's personal preferences wondering if he’d respond. He did—way too proud.

“Right, but sometimes if I go in with the left it feels like—“ cutting Fanboy off with a groan you stopped him from going into too heavy detail.

“Okay—that’s enough, way too much information!” Laughing together as you reached down for the football, passing back to Mickey.

“So Bradshaw—“ Hangman cupped Rooster's exposed shoulder with his hand. The sun soaking into his skin. “How’s Chaos?” He wouldn’t normally ask, but his jaw still throbbed. “She packs a mean punch—“

“I wouldn’t wanna be the one on the receiving end, that's for sure.” Rooster stood with his arms crossed, watching you run around, laughing. “She’s okay—how’s the jaw?”

“Throb’s abit but nothing I can’t handle.” He wasn’t ready to admit it, but Jake felt bad for bringing up your file. Perhaps he’d crossed an unspoken line. But that would be a redemption arc for another day. “I do wanna know something though.” Hangman paused for a moment, watching you and Bob tag team. Racing up the straight of the beach as Hangman and Rooster stood off to the side—watching the chaos of dogfight football unfold. “I never took you for the eleventh man kinda vibe, always thought you were more of a paper rings person.” Frowning, Rooster turned to Hangman with a questioning brow. Annoyed.

“What are you going on about now?“ The irritation wasn’t very well hidden as Rooster spoke with Hangman. He still hadn’t really processed the tension he felt from the highly escalated training breakdown.

“You know, the eleventh man theory?” The silence could have been deafening as Hangman’s statement fell on deaf ears.

“No clue what you're talking about.”

“Right, well—say there’s a woman sitting around a table with ten men.” Hangman explained as he watched Roosters eyes trail you up and down the beach. “And all ten men are telling her how beautiful she is, how amazing she is. They’re buying her beers, sharing their food, just treating her like some goddess who’s walking the earth amongst us.” Rooster couldn’t help but to think, hell—he thought you were beautiful, a goddess in your own right. A powerful, respectable—independent Goddess. “Then, all of a sudden in walks the eleventh man.” Rooster turned his attention back to Hangman, his eyes off you reluctantly. “He takes one look at her, says, how you going—turns his back on her and turns all his attention back to his buddies.” Hangman let it sink in for a second before continuing his monologue that Rooster hadn’t remembered asking for. “That’s the guy she wants to be with, the eleventh man, not any of the ten men testing her well.”

“Where exactly are you going with this?” Rooster couldn’t help but to think this was coming off more an insult to his integrity than guidance.

“For some reason? Women don’t want nice, they don’t want real, they don’t wanna be treated well I mean—not a first and sometimes not ever. And I kinda get the vibe you’re a master at playing that role—the eleventh man.”

“And for some reason I really don’t trust your judge of character, all things considered.” Rooster left it at that as he walked your way, meeting you halfway up the beach as he flung his arm around your shoulders. Feeling your arm smack behind his midsection.

“So I was thinking, you, me—dinner, my place?” Rooster smirked as he tried tripping you up in the sand as you evaded his every attempt, countering his attacks.

“You and thinking are never good together.” Teasing you stopped in your tracks. “But what were you actually thinking?” The sun had turned golden and it made Rooster look oh so fine.

“I heard that Penny has a mean takeaway menu.” The invitation still in the air, for a moment Rooster genuinely believed you may turn his advancements down. “Just between two friends who need to catch up.” At his words you felt smitten, endlessly looped into a world where Bradley Bradshaw would forever have your heart.

“Okay, um—yeah I’ll have a shower and head over if you wanna order?” You agreed, kissing his cheek softly. The warmth the sun had gifted him radiating under your lips.

“Sure, sounds great.” Rooster replied as he felt helplessly into your web. Your touch? pure crack. Always had been always would be. His love language had always been physical.

“Rooster?” You cooed as you pulled away, squinting as the sun hit your face. Holding a hand up to shadow it. “Remember, slow.” Feeling the need to just remind him, because with how good he was looking? There was a slight chance you wouldn’t remind yourself later.

Rooster chuckled, noticing the way your eyes trailed down his body. Reaching out to tilt your chin up. Caught red handed as his ego skyrocketed.

“Slow and steady—got it.”

But things did not go slow and steady. Things got hot and things got very heavy very quickly the moment you stepped into Roosters small studio apartment. The short twenty minute drive off base had you pulling up to the Bradshaw residence. Unlike your first experience at TopGun, you’d been given the opportunity to either live on base in the Barracks or—in Fightertown. Rows of small studio townhouses lined the streets. You were lucky enough to have something a little more spacious. A two bedroom one bathroom. Rooster? He was very much living a Bachelor's dream. The studio townhouse was all he needed. One bed, one bedroom. Small living room with a kitchenette off to the side. But none of that really mattered. Because the second you stepped through the threshold of Bradley’s home? You were on him and he was most certainly on you.

There was a small pause when Rooster opened the door. Your eyes lingered on him as his travelled the extent of all that was you. If you were put on the stand and asked to swear to tell the truth and nothing but the truth so help you god you wouldn't be able to say who started it. Who exactly made the first move or who definitely made the first unholy move. But nevertheless it happened. As much as your brain was telling you to pull back, take it slow, don't dive head first into the deep end without learning how to swim first. Your lips melted with Roosters perfectly as he took you in his arms. Working to bring you further into his home as you shut the door blindly behind you.

“What happened to slow and steady?’ Rooster teased as he led you down the hall to his bedroom, your hands on the curves of your hips as you reached up to cup his face with one and and to hold the back of his head close to you with the other. Bumping into the wall as he reached behind him for his door handle. “This doesn't feel very slow and steady?”

“Shut up and kiss me.” You mumbled into his mouth, eyes closed, headstrong. Rooster smirked against you–softly biting your bottom lip as he pulled you into his room. Spinning you around before kicking your feet out from under you. Standing to watch you fall back onto his bed before he followed you down. Hovering over you as he attacked the juncture of your neck with soft kisses. Peppering your skin with marks that would surely be visible come the morning.

“Yes ma'am–” You heard Rooster mumble as your hands wandered between you. Reaching for the waistband of his tracksuit pants. Slipping past the band of his boxer briefs, you found him. Hard, throbbing. Aching for some sort of relief. “Ohhh-fugh.” it was music to your ears. The way Rooster buried his face into the crook of your neck as you slowly but ever so surely worked him over. “Y/n–”

“Bradley–” Rooster found your lips again before he pulled himself away, standing to rid himself of his shit, his sweatpants. Almost as if you were trying to match his eagerness, you did the same, ridding yourself of your shirt, your pyjama shorts. Rooster stood before you as you kneeled in front of him on his bed, staring you down like a man who;d been touch starved and deprived of all human contact for weeks, months, years. “Like something you see?”

“Oh I love someone I see.” His words made your heart leap over the moon as he came down to kneel in front of you, his hands pulling you close to him by your hips as he leaned in to kiss you again. Slowly, passionalty, deeply. “So much, you have no idea.” Rooster felt your hands on his length once again, pumping him expertly as he let his forehead rest against yours. “Can't ever get enough of you.”

“You're just saying that so I don’t stop.” Teasingly, you moved your hand a little faster up and down the length of Bradleys shaft, your core dripping at the hitch in his voice as he moaned softly, trying to keep his cool as you made his head spin. All the blood in his body bumping through one body party.

“I'll say whatever you want me to say so long as you keep going.” You were high, looking down as you watched your hand glide up and down Rooster’s shaft. Deciding it just wasn’t enough. Taking charge as you pushed him down onto his back, watching with hungry eyes as Rooster crawled backwards up to where his pillows laid sprawled around. Perhaps sleep never came easy to him either, you caught yourself thinking for only the briefest of moments. Crawling after Bradley you sunk low between his exposed thighs, skin a little lighter where his shorts usually covered. More sensitive. Running your nails up and down the flesh that never saw enough attention, the hiss Rooster made in response orgasmic in and of itself. “Shit–!” before he had a chance to really do anything besides let his guard down, your mouth was expertly taking him. Inch by inch. Slowly working your tongue around his girth, eyes trained on him as you did so. Whatever you couldn't fit? Your hand was wrapped around, making sure every inch was accommodated for. “Oh my god, fucking christ–” reaching down to card his fingers into your hair, Rooster couldn’t help but to guide you down on him. His hips slightly bucking up whenever your mouth came down to take every inch on him. His entire world was spinning—the feeling of your mouth so warm and inviting around his shaft. The back of your throat against the tip of his cock. “Ohh—fuck baby you’re killing me.”

Baby. That was something Rooster hadn’t called you in a long time. Pausing, you sat up, pushing yourself back onto your knees as Rooster followed you desperately. His eyes had never been so dark. So lustful. So hungry. Laying you down as he sunk between your thighs, leaving a trail of soft and subtle kisses up the inner part of your thigh. His arms wrapping up and around your legs, his hands resting on your lower abdomen as his eyes asked you for permission to dive head first into his pandora’s box.

“Bet you still taste like candy—“ it could have been a throw back to the night you and Rooster had lost your virginity together. Or maybe to the hundreds of other times you’d have sex—still, it made you throb at the idea he craved the taste of you. Nothing could compare.

“Why don’t you stop doing so much talking and find out?” Within a second of your taunting tease, Rooster's mouth devoured you. Your elbows that were working to support you kicked into overdrive as Bradley’s Tongue lapped at your core, sending shockwaves of unimaginable pleasure throughout your entire body—from the tips of your toes to your fingertips. Wrapping your legs around his shoulders Bradley got deep, got messy. Sucking against your client as he worked you closer and closer to the edge. “Oh fuck—! Yes, yes yes Rooster just like that, ah fuck!”

“What’s my name?” Rooster pulled away as he quickly replaced his mouth with two of his thick digits, slipping easily past your folds. Invoking an all consuming moan of pleasure from the depth of your soul as you rolled your eyes. Throwing your head back as your elbows gave out. “Say it—“

“I’m not saying it!” You cried as Rooster curled his fingers into your velvet walls. Working the pad of his thumb around in small circles against your clit. He knew you were close by the way you were grilling his fingers. “Bradley—fuck, please don’t stop.”

“I’m not gonna let you cum until you say it at least once, like you mean it too.” Rooster was having the time of his life, watching you fight for your life as he worked you ever so perfectly towards your high. His fingers coated, his thumb cramping, crawling up slightly to hover over yiu, taking the hardened bud of your nippled between his teeth before sucking. Making a pop before he moved onto the next. “Say it Chaos—“

“I’m gonna cum!” You eyed him down with a slack jaw. Totally consumed. “Bradley—I’m gonna—“

“Say it and I’ll get you there.” You couldn’t hold it back, afraid Rooster would stop his motion you gripped his worst so he couldn’t pull away—leaving you unsatisfied. Looking him directly in the eyes you begged him, pleaded with him to keep going. You were so very close. “Say it baby—“

“Daddy—you’re daddy!” It hit you like a tsunami. The orgasm that Rooster coaxed you through with his fingers, with his touch, with his shit eating grin because he got you to say the one thing you swore on your life you’d never call him. “Ohhhh my god!” You couldn’t help it, your eyes rolled as you moaned and enjoyed the pleasure Rooster had given you.

“Your so fucking gorgeous.” Rooster whispered as he littered your neck with soft kisses. “So gorgeous Y/n.” Coming to you craved more, instantly needed to feel full. When Roosters lips finally made their way to yours, you took the chance to flip over—it was now you in charge. Straddling his waist as Rooster's length laid between your folds. Slick and warm. “My turn.” You smirked. Pulling Bradley’s hands up over his head. You knew in any other circumstance he’d fight you, wouldn’t give you the satisfaction of control. But you had him, he’d do anything you asked.

If anyone was going to know who fucked who? They were going to know you fucked Bradley Bradshaw—he didn’t fuck you.

Bucking his hips up, Rooster aided you as you guided yourself down his length. Taking him inch by inch as he stretched you out. The O sound you made had Roosters head spinning. Gripping your thumbs as you held his hands over his head, pressing him into the bed. Your mouth blinding searching for Bradley’s to muffle your moans. Grinding atop him as you took him entirely.

“Fuck—“ Rooster hissed into your mouth. His teeth crashing against your as you slowly slid up and down, up and down. Your nectar coating his coat so well it was nearly perfect the way he fit inside you. The tip of Rooster's cock kissed your cervix with passion every time you took him deep. Hip crashing with his. “Holy fuck—baby.” There is was again. That pet name. It gave you such an incentive to keep going, keep fucking him the way you knew he liked it.

“I know you wanna cum for me, don’t you Bradley.” You teased as you tried to bring him closer to his high. “Drip down my thighs—fill me to the brim.” If Rooster died tomorrow this was what his version of heaven would be like. His eyes rolled as he threw his head back, neck straining as he broke his hands out from underneath yours. Bringing them crashing to your hips as he bent his knees—planting his feet against the mattress as he fucked up into you. “Fuck!! Yes!! Bradley—!!” It was hard, nasty, desperate.

“I’m so fucking close—“ Rooster could feel his balls, how tight they were. He felt the load ready to release at the base of his shaft, pooling—ready for release. “Where do you want me to?”

“I don’t care, I’m covered.” You were taking regular birth control, although not one hundred percent effective against pregnancy you could always get your hands on a plan B. “Wherever you want, daddy.” It absolutely nailed you to say it, it wasn’t your vibe. But you knew Rooster loved it. “Cum for me baby.”

“Shit, shit, shit, shit—Fuckk—!!” Rooster groaned as he fucked you hard, his cock pulsing inside you as you felt the warm sensation of his load filling you. Dripping against your velvet walls. “Oh my god.” Stilling, Roosters tense muscles softened. Pulling you down to his chest as you both caught your breath, sweaty. “Jesus Christ—“

“That was not very slow and steady of us.” You listened to Rooster's heart beating as he held your head against his chest.

“Oh god no, we skipped like six thousand steps there.” Kissing your forehead Bradley laid his head back against his mattress. “But I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

The gentle sound of the shower running mixed with the alarming sound of Rooster’s phone going off on his bedside table had you jolting away. Stretching underneath the covers, you rolled over. An unknown number lighting up Roosters phone.

“Hey Roos—your phones ringing, unknown number!” You shouted.

“Uh, can you answer it?” Rooster’s voice carried itself out to where you’d laid in his bed. Still naked under the thin sheets as you sat. Yawning as you answered. 

“Hello Bradley Bradshaw's phone.”

“Hi, who's this?” A woman’s voice rang through your ear as you frowned.

“Oh this is Lieutenant Kazansky, just answering Roo—“

“Well this is Lindsey, his girlfriend, can you get him to call me back? I had to get a new number, his number wasn’t working with my old one.” It just didn’t click at the time purely because you were stuck on the whole girlfriend thing. “Hello?”

“Sure, yeah uh—sure, I’ll um.” Rooster stepped back into his room with a towel strung low around his waist. Still dripping wet. Turning your head to face him you choked out your words as your jaw clenched.

Un fucking believable.

“I’ll get him to call you back, Lindsey.” Roosters eyes went wide as you dropped his ex-girlfriend's name. If that’s what he’d even call her. Racing towards you as you hung up the phone, throwing it down with a look Rooster never hoped to ever be on the receiving end of again. Scurrying off his bed.

“Y/n wait—“ Rooster watched as you bundled up your clothes, dressing yourself quickly. “It’s not what you think I swear—“ Reaching out as you shrugged him off. Snapping back at the only man you’d ever truly loved. The only person who you thought just maybe, giving one more chance to, wouldn't blow up in your face again. But oh boy did it. Bigger than ever before.

“Don’t fucking touch me!” You shouted, the agony evident and clear, utter heartbreak lacing every word. Hot tears streamed down your face as uncontrollable quivers made your lip to that unsteady quivering thing children did when they were upset. Only this felt primal, a natural instinct taking over– you needed to leave, get the fuck out of Bradley Bradshaws house, get away from him, remove yourself from his life once and for all. This had been nothing but a mistake you promised yourself you wouldn't make. Yet here you were. As you got dressed as quickly as you could you couldn't stop yourself from mumbling out the atrocity you felt like.

“The other fucking women Bradshaw!” Scoffing, you felt sick to your stomach. “Fuck you’ve made me feel like a lot of things but this? The other women!!” Your chest grew tighter and tighter with every breath you took.

“Y/n I’m serious this isn’t how it looks, I promise!” Rooster tried to explain but you just weren’t willing to listen. “I promised you, and I meant that.” There was a reason the number had come up as unknown. Rooster had been seeing this girl in New York on and off for a few months, nothing serious, super casual. Until one day he came home to find her half way through moving some of her stuff in. it was kind of a red flag he just wasn't willing to take the chance on. Calling it off as soon as he could, as polite as he could. It was needless to say things had been a little crazy there for a while. To the point where he had to block Lindsay on all his socials, his email, his phone.

Rooster should have known deep down that even if the hardest pill he could ever shallow was knowing you could find another him tomorrow, he could never find another you no matter how hard he tried.

“I knew– I goddamn knew I never should have let you in!!” Turning as Rooster followed you out of his room down his hallway. Heading towards the front door. “Don’t you ever talk to me again! Do you understand!”

“Just wait a second and let me explain!” Rooster really did try to make an effort to stop you leaving, stop you from getting away before he had the chance to explain. Reaching out for your wrist you smacked him away. Pointing a stirn finger his way as all the hurt, all the betrayal and anger you felt just poured out in waves. Completely consuming Rooster as it finally clicked.

You thought so little of him and his ability to actually love you that you generally thought he’d do this to you.

“So help me god Bradshaw I will break every bone in your hand if you touch me one more time.” It was the silence that hurt the most, Rooster’s inability to just say he didn't use you. Caught up in his own emotional turmoil at the realisation you must have had incredibly low expectations of him. “I never should have let you in.”

“You really think that low of me that I'd do this to you.” Rooster didn't pick his head up. His eyes never met yours as he stopped any and all attempts to not let you walk out of his house. Perhaps it was the best thing he could ever do for you? Let you believe he cared so little.

“Well I’d never treat me this shitty!” Your face grew hotter with every passing second, Rooster held his own tears back as he felt his heart shattering. For once? He felt an ounce of the heartbreak he’d probably caused you ten times over. “You know something Bradshaw?” There it was again, that sting of his last name. Rooster realised it wasn’t what you said it was how you said it. You'd only use his last name to tease him, get a rise out of him—but you’d started using it to hurt him. “I never told anyone anything bad about you, sure! I told Bob about some guy I used to date who made promises to change but couldn’t pull the trigger and even if I was talking about you? I never—ever said your name!” Shoving at Roosters chest he never budged. “That so embarrassing Rooster, you were my everything!! You are my fucking everything but all you constantly do is make me sad!”

“If you would just stop and listen to me for one second Y/n I promise it’s not what you think.” His final attempt to get you to listen had you stepping back with every advance Rooster made.

“Please—“ Sobbing, you begged him. Pleaded with whatever love you had left for him. “Leave me alone.” Before you made your way out Roosters front door. Leaving him standing in the threshold watching you get into your rusted up Bronco. Roosted watched on as you ripped the chain from around your rear view mirror, pulling it with such force it snapped like every single heart string he had.

It wasn’t long before it landed discarded on his front lawn. Holding the towel that hung low on his hips, Rooster paddled over to where the now broken necklace he had gifted you all those years ago had landed. Picking it up before he walked back inside,

Placing it next to where his own half hung—

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***

Chaos Masterlist

Tags: @lyannaredbird @luckyladycreator2 @skagelynn @teacupdreams @the-winter-marvel33reblogs @mrsjaderogers @katieshook02 @thescarletknight2014 @justanothermagicalsara @4ngelicb4byy @percysaidnever @puriini @luckylexie @is-this-a-febreze-commercial @shrimping-for-all @fayethefairy @lonelywitchv2 @mizzzpink @unforgettwble @itzyogurl92 @lemoonandlestars @mulletmcghee @redqueeen99 @bucky-barmes @mak-32 @fivsecondsflat

[georgiapeach30513]

Keys in Your Ignition, Part 10

Summary:  Time with the Everett’s

Pairings:  Curtis X Reader, Curtis X Steve

Rating:  mature

Warnings:  explicit language, mentions of a car crash, mentions of mental health, unhealthy sex talk, depictions of depression, arson, 18+ ONLY

Word Count:  3.1K

Previous

Series Masterlist

*Dividers by @firefly-graphics​

“Here, sweetie,” Curtis’ mom leans over you offering some tea. “Drink it, I promise, it’s good,” groggily you sit up from the couch. Almost forgetting you were here, and one look over at the chair Curtis had been sitting on, you realize now, you’re alone.

“He had some business to attend to,” she answers quickly. Giving you a smile when you stretch out. Sore in ways you never thought you would be. “I heard about your father. Curtis said he was difficult.”

“That’s news. Everyone keeps telling me about what a good man he was.”

“Hmm,” she pushes a tray of waffles, fruit and bacon towards you. “Help yourself.”

You are in fact starving, can’t even remember when you last ate. You load down a plate and settle back on the couch, thanking the woman.

“Curtis tells me he was a fierce leader, but a terrible father.”

“Curtis says a lot.”

“Tara. That’s my name.”

“When is he coming back?” her waffles were amazing, and you can’t help but to stuff another large bite in your mouth.

“Dinner time I suppose. His father is out of town helping my other son move in. Curtis and him don’t get along. You know. You remind me of my daughter,” you swallow a big bite and smile. “She let a toxic love get the best of her. They got in a car wreck, my baby girl…she’s not suffering from him anymore.”

“It’s not toxic.”

“Maybe because you’re the toxic one? I heard enough. Tell me about Ari,” you drink a bit of your tea, shrugging your shoulders. “Do you love him?”

“No. I can’t love. It’s broken,” standing up, she joins you on the couch, making her own plate.

“Losing a daughter doesn’t make that part of you broken. I still love my sons so much. Proud of them in different ways. Hayden is following in his dad’s footsteps. Curtis is carving his own path. But he’s empathetic, compassionate, jovial, even if you don’t see that giggly side of him. When Jessie died, I thought my world had ended. She was this bright sunny thing. Always laughing and smiling. Always getting her brothers into their own round of giggles. She loved them. Little sister to one, big sister to the other. I watched her light fade dimmer everyday she was with that man. The same light Curtis saw in you, but she let hers flicker out. With the right lighter, the flame can burn bright again.”

“I told you, I can’t love.”

“Why does a man have to bring you happiness?” you cut your eyes over at her, your vision going blurry, and you’re unsure what was bringing on these tears. “In order to love someone else, we have to love ourselves. We have to forgive ourselves, because life is about mistakes. You just have to start learning from those mistakes. Have you ever been in love?”

You nod your head at her, meekly saying yeah. “Tell me about him. What was his name?”

“Everyone calls him Bucky. I call him JB.”

“What made you fall in love?”

You stare out into the distance remembering when you saw Bucky for the attractive man he was. “He saw me. He paid attention to me. I’d fall, and he’d run to help me up. I was missing from the club, and he’d go searching for me. Not because someone told him to, but because he missed me. He taught me how to ride a motorcycle, when my dad told me I was too pretty to ride. With JB there was just me.”

“What happened?”

You take another drink of tea when you feel your throat closing in on itself. Your chest heating up and tight. “I asked him to teach me other things.”

“The sexual kind?”

“Yeah. He was my first. He’s my brother’s best friend, so it was forbidden. We built us this shack in the woods. It didn’t have much, just a mattress. But it was our own. He taught me everything. You know, accidents happen. And I ended up pregnant. Long story short…our baby didn’t make it.”

“You wanted the baby?” her hand drifts to your thigh, and shocking yourself, you lean over on her shoulder.

“I always wanted to be a mom. I never really had one. We were gonna have a girl. She was beautiful. Perfect. I just wanted my daughter to have the life I didn’t have. And JB, he was too scared to say anything. Had excuses on when we should tell my family, and then…it didn’t matter. He held me in our shack, and I cried all night. Into the day, and then it hit me, that he never was going to come clean. He didn’t want what I wanted. I got up and left. I couldn’t let him go completely. I’d find a boyfriend that I just used for sex, but I always went back to JB.”

“Why was Ari different?” you shrug on her shoulder. Tara reaches over to the table, and hands you a tissue. “Your dad’s best friend?” with a nod, she pets around your hair, “it’s a bit of a pattern. Your brother’s best friend, then your dad’s. Is the attention you were really seeking from them or your family? You wanted them to make a possible sacrifice and tell their friends? JB didn’t.”

You shake your head no, “He just told Steve. Right before, before Steve left me.”

“Okay, he tells your brother after your dad died, and Ari never got a chance. I don’t think you’re weird. We can’t help who we’re attracted to, but I don’t think Ari was an accident.”

“He’s got a kid. He’s only seven years younger than me. He doesn’t want kids. I don’t need them anyway,” this was always the line you told yourself.  It was easier to tell yourself you didn’t need them.  

“You don’t need them right now. Right now you need a mix of good love, and tough love. That with Ari, is no good. I saw your bruises.”

“It was impact play,” you go move off of her, and she allows you to. The two of you sit in silence for a moment, and your eyes wander around this room. Pictures of the family of five scattered all around. And you smile at how attentive Curtis seems with his younger siblings.

“Did you enjoy it?” you shrug your shoulders. “Are you afraid to tell Ari?”

“I test him. He doesn’t have a choice.”

“We always have a choice. He doesn’t realize you’re testing him for attention. It’s like a spoiled child. They don’t care if the attention is negative or not,” now why did she call you a spoiled child. You cross your arms over you chest and pout. “I get it. He wasn’t a father to his son, so now he’s making a point to do that with you.”

“I’m not a brat.”

“Then don’t act like one. You grew up without a proper mother, and it shows. Ari is not your daddy. You don’t have to push that need to have his attention on to Ari.”

“Gross. I don’t want to have sex with my dad.”

She giggles, and even gets a chuckle out of you, “That’s not what I’m saying. I’m saying that you have wanted your dad’s attention. You’ve acted out in the club, and Ari is the only one who gave you that attention. You liked it at first. But the worse you feel about yourself, the harder you need something more. Got sloppy with hiding the relationship, hoping your father would catch you. Spoiled children do not care what type of attention they get, they just want it. Willing to endure punishment because it means their parent, in your case, daddy cares. But Ari only fills that void for a moment. You say you don’t love him, and in some way he loves you. You just test your boundaries, and then he hurts you. It’s a cycle, and eventually you’re going to push that man too far. Does he know about Bucky?”

“Yeah. He knows I cheat on him with Bucky, too.”

“Sweetie…”

“I wasn’t with anyone. I can fuck whoever I want.”

“Does Ari think you’re with him though?”

“He calls me his old lady. I’m twenty-two years younger than him. I’m not old. I’m not a lady. And I don’t like his rules and his lies! I didn’t know he had a kid. Didn’t know he couldn’t have anymore.”

“Sweetie, do you want to be with Ari?” you shake your head no.

“But I don’t want to be alone.”

“You’re not,” you lift your head up, looking at her. Her eyes bright and kind like Curtis’. “You’ve got people who care about you. Curtis wants nothing from you. He cares about you. Got you here and away from the storm that’s brewing in that club. Some of it is your fault, and you’re going to have to take responsibility for that. But we all do stupid things when we’re not of sound mind. Do you love Bucky?”

“I do. I just don’t know if I could be with him.”

“All you gotta do is tell us, and we’ll get you out of the situation you’re in. I’m here to help, and if you need me to act as your surrogate mother, so you realize you’re not alone, I will. I can’t see another girl be destroyed by a man.”

Curtis’ hand beats on the door, and when Steve opens it, he tries to close it immediately. Curtis pushes past the door, and pushes Steve back into the apartment. “You want to ignore me? Fine. Now you can’t. What the fuck man?”

“What?”

“Wow. You know I thought you were just going through your own shit, but now, I think you just really don’t care. Do you even know half the shit your sister has gone through? She’s lost Steve.”

“She’s got Ari,” Curtis’ hands connect to Steve’s shoulders, and he pushes him hard onto the couch behind him. “She’s grown!”

“Barely. She’s twenty-three years old, and lost. She has basically begged for yours and your dad’s attention. And he’s dead, and you ran away,” he holds his phone out to Steve, letting him watch what he saw first hand. You screaming and kicking trying to go after him, but Ari drags your body back into the rooms. “You need each other. You’re all you have left. You don’t even see her. You don’t see what she’s been through.”

“What about me?”

“My god, y’all are both lost puppies. You got your dad’s attention. Doll got the old ladies, and every time she wanted to show your dad something, it was always, okay show Angel or Florence or Rose, daddy has to work. Meanwhile he’s searching for his next meaningless pussy. That was you, until you found someone worth being faithful to. He never gave her the attention she wanted. She wanted to do ballet, but she couldn’t because he had to buy you a bike, and you weren’t even licensed. She wanted to go to college, but she couldn’t because she had to work at the bar, and help with the family business. And you wonder why she fell in bed with bikers. Doll was meant for more than the club. Just,” his finger presses hard on Steve’s chest, “Like you. The difference is you got a way out, and took it. Leaving her with no fucking safe guard. Ari doesn’t know what the hell he’s doing. Waiting on her to cheat on him I guess. Trying to be the father figure she wants, when he just wants a nice girl to come home too. Bucky is just as lost, man. He is so in love with your sister, but she needs out of that fucking club. She needs to heal if she even wants to think about entertaining a life with Bucky.”

“He’s my best friend.”

“And she’s your sister. If you paid any attention to her, you would have seen their romance happening. He couldn’t quit looking at her, and she couldn’t quit smiling. You’re so self absorbed Steve. But that’s what you were taught to be. The big man. Gets to go on runs with a bunch of sweet butts, knowing that his old lady would be waiting to take his cock when he got home. You want that for her? Ari has never done the faithful thing. Bucky either. Until her. She’s out currently. I got her someplace safe. But she’ll need somewhere with family.”

“It’s that bad?” Steve asks, finally looking up at Curtis. His eyes glassy, and he bites at his lip.

“Yeah. You two are too much like your mothers. You weren’t meant to have this as your life. Doll wants a white picket fence. She wants to go after her dreams, and Ari is going to keep her working in a fucking bar and taking him when he gets home. He’s a lifer. Just like Bucky.”

“I’m a mess, too.”

“You can be a mess together. She’s broken right now, Steve. My dad is a therapist. Mom’s been around it her whole life, and pretty much is a therapist, too. She’s talking to her. She’s being the mother that Venus never got to be. But Doll wants you. You’re her big brother,” Steve nods his head, his gaze looking back at the floor.

“Okay.  Okay.  I’m not what she needs either.”

“Good boy, you’ll figure it out,” Curtis winks. “Now, I’m gonna spend time with my little brother. While my dad is shopping for the right towels. Hayden is useless in that department.”

Curtis walks into his childhood home, watching his mother fold clothes, and he gives her an odd look. With a flick of her head into the living room, he walks quietly in there, and stops seeing you mix up a pink batter, “Tara, oh,” you say when you realize it’s Curtis in the doorway, “I thought you were Tara.”

“No, it’s just me. What cha need?”

“Well, this is just strawberry cake mix, but I thought it would be nice to add in some fresh strawberries. You know make it a bit more unique,” before you fully finish your thought he’s already walking to the fridge, grabbing out the strawberries, “So you think it’s a good idea?”

“Yeah, I think it’s a great idea,” he gives you a kind smile handing over the strawberries, “Still don’t wanna fuck you.”

“Wasn’t offering,” you smart back going to cut up the berries. “I like your mom.”

“I like her, too. She’s a good one. You are, too.”

“Does…does anyone know where I am?” worried that it wouldn’t be long until Ari came looking for you. And right now, you just need space.

“Just Steve,” shocked, you turn to look at Curtis. Tears immediately fall past your lash line, and Curtis envelops you in a tight embrace. “He wants you to move in the city with him. Get away from the club. No one knows where he is either.”

“Curtis…I…it’s just…it’s soon. And I need to do something first.”

“We’ll go do it.”

“This still isn’t an invitation for you to fuck me.”

“Good, I don’t want to, Doll.”

“You sure about this?” Curtis dips his head in through the door looking around the small space. He turns, staring at you, while you’re blankly look at that mattress. You shake your head no in answer.  Because you’re not really sure, but still there’s a calmness that surrounds your decision.

Shining a light around the shack, he points it at your chest, “You don’t have to do this. Who told you that you did?”

“No one. I wanted to do it after we lost Luna,” you hold out your hand, and he places his lighter in it.

“This is where you lost your virginity? There’s cobwebs.”

“They weren’t always there,” you laugh, flicking on the lighter, you go over to light the mattress on fire, and step back to hug Curtis. Watching as the flames take everything, but the memories. “It’s done.”

“What about Bucky?”

“This is best for the both of us,” you push Curtis off of you, and walk over to his bike. “I can’t love him, if I don’t work on myself. And I can’t love him with the love shack hanging over our heads. This is the past. I don’t know if I can ever love him again. I know that I need to love myself, and then maybe I’ll get there.”

“Mom’s pretty awesome, huh? Where we headed to, Doll?”

You take a deep breath as the fire spreads out. “The fire department will be here soon. Where we going?” you follow him as he heads for his bike, jumping on, before he lets you get on the back.

“Can we go back to your parents? Just for a bit longer,” he starts the bike, and heads in the direction of his parents’ house. Sirens wail in the distance, but you have never felt freer. Throwing your hands out wide, you let the wind wash off the rest, ready to take this journey away from everything you knew. It was best to not see Ari and Bucky at the moment.

There was a familial comfort at Curtis’ parents, mostly his mom. You didn’t realize how much you desired a motherly figure.  “I’m stealing your mom,” you giggle when he pulls up to the house. “It’s just cozy here.”

“I’ll give her out on loan. You’re not keeping her. Come on, let’s get some of that strawberry cake. And it’s not an invitation into my bed.”

“Wait,” he stops to turn around and glare at you, feeling that you were going to go too far again. “Not sex.”

“You quit calling it fucking? That’s a start.”

“Can you just stay with me until I fall asleep? She’s letting me stay in Hayden’s old room. I’ll sleep on top of the covers. I promise. No sex. No shoving your hands on me. Just,” biting your lip, you look down at the ground, hands crossed over you chest, “Never mind.”

“No, use your words, and tell me what you’re feeling. Then allow me to respond and give you my boundaries.”

“I don’t want to be alone. This is hard for me. I’ve always bounced around to someone else’s bed. And sex was the only way I knew that would let them let me stay. Don’t make me guilt trip you, and say that I burned down mine and JB’s love shack.”

“That was your idea,” he laughs, bringing you close to him. “I’ll sleep on top of the covers. And I swear to you, if you try to shove my hands on you, we’re gonna have a problem.”

“I won’t. Not on purpose,” you squeal running up the front porch stairs.

“Doll Rogers! You get back out here!” playfully screaming at you while he runs in after you. His mom laughing at the two of you being goofy and carefree. She missed this side of her son, and you were becoming a different girl than the one Curtis first dropped off, it was like her second coming of Jessie, and she would protect you fiercely, in a way she couldn’t Jessie.  

Next

Masterlist

Taglist:  @tis-thedamn-season​ @marveloustaylortot​ @pono-pura-vida​ @sstan-hoe​ @peaches1958​ @kaybaby2494 @flannellover67​ @infatuatedjanes​ @redbloodedgurl​ @thedarknessilove​ @whimsyplaty92​ @tryingtosurvivestuff​ @superforgottensoul​

[ladywaifuuwrites]

Pillars reacting to their crush who’s small but strong

Request: male pillars reacting to a really strong female pillar whos like super short like 4′10-5′ and they crush on them.

Pairings: Male pillars x fem! reader

Synopsis: Their crush is a strong smol pillar ^_^

Warnings: manga spoiler

a/n: I smiled at your request since I’m small too. Like I’m 5′0. And I’m kinda scared to do face to face classes since the boys at my school will tease me for not getting taller. Hmph. SO HERE YA GO. You’re the first request! Have a nice day whoever u are!

And I am so sorry this is so long! ASJDAOFHHASK. I got carried away in some of those storylines. I hope this makes sense (wrote this when I was hungry).

This would be a headcanon I assume. 

I’m sorry if It’s taking me long to answer requests but don’t worry I’ll write those! I’ll probably upload rules for future requests :)

Giyuu Tomioka

yo this guy is tall not kidding

Giyuu is head over heels for you. He’ll want to protect you since you’re the most precious things he’s ever laid eyes on

Sparkles in his eyes whenever he sees you✨

He doesn’t want to lose you so he’s butting in on all of your missions. You get annoyed and you think he’s looking down on you.

You two get into a fight and doesn’t fix it since Giyuu’s communication is bad. It ends up in you walking away.

Nighttime and demons are lurking around in the forest as you take a stroll to clear your mind. Then a demon launches on you but thanks to your quick reflexes you dodge.

It’s a strong demon, close enough to become one of the lower moons. But nothing you can’t handle.

Giyuu senses a demon nearby and he frantically searches for you. *sim dads reaction when the mother goes into labor lmaooooo*

Lights fill up an area of the forest from the techniques you use. In like 2 strikes the demon dies.

He finally finds you as the demon’s ashes blow away. Your hair is dramatically blowing too.

He’s just staring at you then hugs you “I’m sorry. I’m not underestimating you…I just want to protect you.”  

Then all good. He’s amazed by how strong you are despite you’re short stature. You’re going to missions together and sometimes he just watches you finish off the demon. Just happy to see that satisfied smile you have when you kill a demon.

Muichiro Tokito

When he first met you at the pillar meeting, he muttered his thoughts, wondering how could someone be that small? You’re in the same age but you’re small.

Shinobu heard him since she was beside him and said “that’s rude to ask someone”. She’s lowkey offended.

Tengen retorts to Muichiro. “You’re small too…??”

Since it’s rude, he kept his mouth shut. You’re the same age as him when you entered the corps. He thinks you’ll grow up anyway. 

Surprise surprise you grew up, 2 inches. But still small. 

He gets nervous a bit around you since puberty did you good. Won’t admit it though.

Cue swordsmith village arc

He’s having trouble dealing with Gyokko. (I hate his face. It’s weird and ugly.)

Then minutes later, you show up out of nowhere, giving great damage to the demon.

“Are you okay?” you ask him with concern and you two fight off the fish demon.

He’s in awe because you actually took over the fight. Sure you have injuries but those are minor compared to his and you were very careful.

He’s injured so he couldn’t do much but you saved him and the civilians by defeating the demon. That’s when he realized how amazing you are and you earn his respect. 

Days pass by and you two along with the other demon slayers are commended by Oyakata-sama.

He thanks you when the both of you are walking together. He’s very grateful for what you did and you two become closer afterwards.

“Ah young love.” Mitsuri sighs blissfully as she watches you two leave the headquarters.

Kyojuro Rengoku 

Kyojuro knows you’re small and he knows you’re strong. You’re one of his trainees along with Mitsuri, so you’ve known each other for a long time now.

You rose to the ranks of the pillars with Kyojuro’s guidance. And now you’re looked up to by the whole organization because of your excellent swordsmanship despite your small figure. 

So you’re tasked to train 20 slayers ranked below Tsuchinoto. You take them to a clearing in the forest where training equipment are already placed. You train them by remembering what Kyojuro has taught you over the years. And you smile, seeing your past self in the struggling slayers.

You gave them a 10 minute break and after 10 minutes, you do a headcount to see if everyone is in your proximity. 

“18,19…?????” 

Oh no. A slayer is missing.

So you set off to find the missing one and there you found him. 

Hanging upside down from the arms of a large demon. The boy is muttering apologies for straying faraway and is begging for you to save him upon seeing you. 

You are annoyed at the fact that he has disobeyed your orders and is now at the hands of danger. But this was no time to be blaming someone for a boy’s life is at stake here. 

You jump into the air and you take down the demon pretty easily with one strike of your sword. And you catch the falling boy bridal style with your annoyed face. 

You put the boy down but suddenly a demon comes attacking you both. You kill it but more of it comes at you. They are easy to take down but it keeps coming, making you tired if you have to do this all night. It just won’t stop multiplying.

You think you’ve killed almost all of it but then the slayer screams “(L/N)-SAN!!!!!”. A monstrous looking demon bares its claws at you, but before you could react a flash of flames appears right in front of your eyes. 

“Kyojuro…” You whisper in relief as he slays the final demon. The bright flames sparkle in your eyes as you’re once again amazed at the man.

Kyojuro looks at you and comes over. “You’re so amazing.” You manage to say. 

He smiles and says. “No. You’re the amazing one.”. You always manage to face whatever challenge and it always ends up in you winning. Kyojuro knows how hard you proved others wrong by becoming a strong pillar. 

Super proud of you cause you’re strong. He actually watched you battle those before jumping in to save you.

Sanemi Shinazugawa

He doesn’t really care if you’re short or tall

The important things is that you’re useful to the organization

When someone teases you about your height, you end up feeling down and he’s there to beat that someone’s ass.

He doesn’t like to admit it but he’s a softie when it comes to you. You eventually break down his walls and now you can say you’re friends with the scary wind pillar.

You always tease him though and he’s always annoyed. But everyone thinks you’re both dumb since it’s very clear that you two like each other but you still deny it.

There’s this time where Sanemi is visibly struggling fighting demons as you watch him peacefully on a rooftop. He’s glaring at you and asks you “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”.

You just smile at him sweetly😊

Sanemi pretends his heart didn’t do a flip. But his heart stopped when he saw a demon behind you on the rooftop.

He was about to call your name when another blink and the demon’s head was cut off.

He was surprised since it all happened so fast. You go down to the ground, landing safely as you battle demons that the frozen Sanemi left.

It just took you 10 seconds to eliminate those demons and Sanemi’s mouth is left agape as he watched you.

You weren’t normally like this. So why the sudden surge of power?

“Sanemi hun. Close your mouth.” You say to him with a blank face, but before you could go past him, he gripped your wrist tightly and placed your small body in front of him.

He dragged you so easily lol.

He hugged you with your faced buried on his chest.

It was the comforting kind of silence. Sanemi was scared losing you to that demon but deep inside he knows that you’re strong.

Won’t admit that your moves are amazing.

Gyomei Himejima

This man is the strongest in the demon slayer corps and the tallest

Lmaoooo you would be like a mushroom beside him💀🍄

Gyomei actually gets out of tricky situations easily because he’s that strong

You’re a fairly new pillar who earned her spot 3 months ago. You two were assigned on a mission together. A gigantic demon appeared throughout the village that was between the regions you and the stone pillar were assigned in.

Gyomei knows your capabilities so he trusts you in doing a good job, but he can’t help but worry about you.

He doesn’t care if you’re small, he thinks that height isn’t the basis for an excellent demon slayer. But he’s still worried, so he looks for you. I don’t know how he looks but he looks.

Then he sees you fighting off demons very easily. A determined look is seen across your face. Gyomei feels he’s tearing up because he’s so proud of you. Proud boyfriend here somethin.

You were just a weak mizunoto years ago and now you’re a strong pillar who can fight with him side by side.

When you finish off the demons, you look to see Gyomei smiling at you. This were the fruits of the harsh trainings you went through, it made an excellent swordswoman.

Among the pillars, you stand beside Gyomei in rankings. So you’re powerful like wow. O_O

Obanai Iguro

He’s small but have you seen him fight? He’s a demon slayer with remarkable speed and you won’t know he’s attacking you because his moves slithers secretly like a snake.

You’ve always admired Obanai even you’re now both pillars. And that admiration bloomed into something more.  

He’s a strong pillar despite his small stature and that’s what you aim for to be like.

You’re trying to show off your moves to him every time you’re in battle together, to show him what you can do. To which he’s just “meh”.

So you give up on trying to show off and just do it for the sake of the people you’re saving.

You really gave up on showing off, but you can’t help it cause your breathing forms are flashy. Obanai doesn’t show it but he loves that display of power you have when you’re fighting.

Poor man doesn’t realize he’s in love with you even though others point it out.

He’s having trouble dividing his attention on protecting the civilians or fighting the demons. Luckily you were near the area so you came to his aid.

You slay the demons with your sharp and precise movements in just a short amount of time.

He’s like 😲 but when you turn he’s back to 😐😷

He’s one of the guys who won’t admit that you’re amazing and won’t admit that he likes you. You force him to confess though.

Tengen Uzui

If Obanai doesn’t admit he likes you, this guy would shout that he likes you

Would openly flirt with you because why not? There’s nothing to be shy about.

Always takes the chance to compliment and flirt with you.

“You’re cute (y/n)” “Thanks” Tengen finds your height cute because the height difference is HUGE.

Another mushroom like moment💀🍄

He knows you’re strong so he likes to train with you. Always ends up letting you win because he just likes it when he’s pinned down by your smaller figure.

When a demon invasion came in your area,, you fight them off while Tengen is called for backup.

He slays the lesser demons easily and found you fighting a stronger demon while protecting some children behind your back.

He smirks and leans against a tree, arms folded while watching you fight off the demon. 

You did it so easily making Tengen’s eyebrows rise.

Then you see him and ask him “what are you doing?”.

“watching you.” He finds you hot and sexy when you have that focused look in the middle of a battle. He won’t say it out loud because you might smack him in the face.

Super amazed at the fact that you’re stronger than the other pillars despite your small figure.(he thinks you’re stronger than him but dismisses that because pshhhhhh).

Will throw you over his shoulder at random times. Thinking that his antics will make you fall in love with him.

And it did…

[ragingbookdragon]

The Brother's Keeper

A Dick Grayson and Batsis One-Shot

Word Count: 2.7K Warnings: Explicit Language, Angst, References to Past Abuse

Author's Note: Another story edited and re-posted! Enjoy! -Thorne

Despite having not lived at the manor for almost a decade, she still knew every hallway and room like the back of her hand, every sound was a familiar net of reassurance she could count on. The hum of the hidden wall closing behind her, the creaking of the third step from the top that they always avoided, the clicking the bats above made. She descended the steps into the cave, balancing the heavy manila files in one hand, the other holding two protein shakes, knowing her father probably hadn’t consumed nutrition in at least a few hours since he called her.

Her eyes fell on him where he sat at the Batcomputer; he’d changed out of his suit and was in a pair of joggers and a long sleeve shirt. She walked over, setting the files down beside the keyboard. “Here’s the files you asked about, dad. I alphabetized them too…and color tabbed ‘em but that’s not important.”

He glanced at her with a warm smile before nodding and turning back to the screen. “Thank you, sweetheart. I appreciate you doing so.”

She leaned an arm on the back of the chair, propping her chin on his shoulder as she stared at the screen. “New antidote for Scarecrow’s toxin?”

“He’s synthesized a new formula, so I need to make a new antidote in case anyone gets gassed,” he replied, tapping at the screen until the numbers were apparently in approval with whatever he was thinking about—who knew.

She hummed, taking note of the lack of noise. “Where’re the chuckle-heads?”

He chuckled and tipped his head towards the locker room. “They put their suits away and went to change.” She nodded again and patted his shoulder before walking off in the direction of the room.

When she got there, she didn’t see them, but she could hear them harking on one another in the locker room, and she moved in that direction. She stepped into the room and took in the image of the four of her brothers standing in front of the mirrors in their underwear, pointing at each other like they were shocked to see the other.

“Do I even want to know?” she asked, unblinkingly.

Their heads shot up and they saw her; Dick greeted, “(Y/N)! What are you doing here? You usually don’t come to the manor.”

(Y/N) shrugged and stepped inside, taking a seat on one of the cool metal benches. “Dad needed some files over a few previous encounters I’ve had with galactic enemies. And me being here brings me back to my original question.” She gestured to them with a wave of a hand, brows furrowed in confusion. “Why are you guys in your tighty-whities?”

They snorted, and Jason turned around. “We’re comparing scars.”

(Y/N) let out a ‘pfft’. “Of course, you are.” She paused for a second and observed them. “Who’s got the gnarliest one?” Immediately, they pointed at Damian who simply motioned to his chest, and she looked at the faded scar that rested over his heart.

A frown instantly drew her lips, and Damian, being ever so vigilant, caught it and shook his head. “It wasn’t your fault, sister. You tried to save me.”

She met his eyes and murmured, “I didn’t try hard enough.” She glanced at Jason, seeing the scars line his chest, her voice just as soft. “For either of you.”

Jason’s lips pulled downwards, and he walked over, sitting on the bench beside her. “The fact that you tried is good enough for us, Queenie.” He reached out, patting her head.

She sighed and shook it off, giving them a smile before she turned to Tim. “Any on you Nerd-bird?”

He grinned and turned around, running his hand along a scar that rested along the left side of his ribs. “When I fought Ra’s, he got me right here.”

(Y/N) looked at it, then leaned back, a curious look in her eye. “Other than dad, aren’t you the only person he’s called ‘detective’?” Tim gave her a firm nod and she pulled a grin, nodding at him. “Look at the Nerd-bird kicking all our asses in the game. I’m proud of you.” He gave her a sheepish smile and she turned to Dick. “We’ve all had brushes with death, but I don’t think you have a lot of noticeable ones. Which is surprising because out of all of us, you’re the most reckless.”

The others laughed while Dick glared at her, then he shrugged and showed his back, and they saw faint white lines that resembled lightning strikes. “When Wally came back out of the speed force, he accidentally shocked me. Of course, it wasn’t enough to damage me severely, but it’s here.”

They looked at him once more, then Tim tipped his head to the side. “What about you, sis? You’ve been doing this longer than we have. Do you have any good ones?” (Y/N) looked at him before pulling off her jacket and pulling off the tank top she had on. She stood up, walking to the mirror and staring into it.

She pointed to one that lined across her left breast. “Even covered by my bra, you can see how badly this one was.” She paused running a hand down it, gaze far. “When Jason died, I got into it with Joker some time after.” (Y/N)’s eyes drifted to Jason’s, who’s were wide with shock. “I beat him worse than dad did, but he left me with this one before I did.”

“I…didn’t know you did that, Queenie.”

“Of course not Jason. I didn’t tell you.” (Y/N) pointed to a patch that rested on her right hip. “Took a bullet for Tim a few years ago.”

“That was when Deadshot was running around, right?”

She nodded, answering his question. “Mhm. They say he never misses. But that day, he did.” Her hand moved and she touched a curved scar that ran down her neck. “After you died, Damian, I found Talia and we had it out.”

“What happened?” he questioned curiously.

(Y/N) met his eyes in the mirror and frowned. “She and I gave each other a fair share of wounds…but I think the ones I gave her hurt more than the ones she gave me.”

“And those were?”

(Y/N) looked back at her reflection and stared at herself. “The infuriated words of a grieving sister.”

Silence enveloped the room and after a few moments, Dick pointed to a particular scar on her back that ran down the length of it. “How in the world did you get that one?”

She looked over her shoulder and reached behind her, fingers brushing over the raised, jagged skin that had sealed unevenly. “On my back?”

Dick snorted and nodded. “The only one on your back sis.”

She went silent for a moment then she admitted, “…Tarantula gave it to me a few years ago.”

No one noticed the way Dick froze for a split second at her admittance, and Jason asked, “Why did you and Tarantula get into it?”

Her eyes met Dick’s for a flash before she looked at Jason. “She killed an informant of mine and I got even with her.”

“Looks like she rocked your shit, Queenie.”

The others laughed, save for her and Dick, then (Y/N) muttered darkly, “I beat Catalina Flores within an inch of her life that night.” Her statement brought their laughter to a grinding halt, and she continued. “Hell, I almost killed her. But I didn’t.”

Damian crossed his arms, raising an eyebrow. “And why not? It would not be the first time you’ve killed someone.”

(Y/N) rolled her shoulders and moved back to her clothes, pulling on the tank top and jacket before turning to him. “Because then she would’ve gotten of scot free, and she wouldn’t have to live knowing what she’s done.”

Jason’s eyebrows furrowed and he followed Damian, crossing his arms and leaning against the lockers. “Not to be nosey, but the way you’re talking about her almost seems like you’ve got a vendetta against her. And I mean like, me to Bruce vendetta.”

(Y/N) met his gaze before reaching down and tossing his muscle tank to him, then passing the others their shirts. “The informant she killed was a good friend of mine. There was…a lot of fury.” She paused, meeting Dick’s gaze once more. “There still is.”

The others simply stared at her before pulling on their shirts, and she looked at them. “I’m gonna get dad to go out and eat somewhere with me. You guys go on out and start working on him, would you?” The three nodded and started towards the door, (Y/N) following.

She was almost out of the door when Dick’s voice reached her quietly. “…(Y/N)?” She paused, turning around, and looking at Dick, who wore an unreadable expression; he glanced up at her, his eyes searching as he inquired, “Was there another reason that you two fought?”

“Me and Catalina?” He nodded and she shrugged. “There might’ve been. But the immediate fight was about my informant.”

Dick stared at her for a few moments before whispering, “…You didn’t start your informant network until I donned Batman.”

(Y/N) tipped her head back and leaned against the door frame, eyes narrowed as she mentally picked his words apart as only an older sister could. “What are you getting at, kid brother?”

He fell silent all at once, but when he finally found it in himself to bring his eyes to hers, she saw such pain in them. “Did you fight her…because of me?”

“No,” she immediately replied, firmly and confidently.

Dick’s eyes widened momentarily, but he looked down and nodded. “I see.”

She kept staring at him, then cleared her throat and turned, grabbing the doorknob. She pulled the door open and stopped, murmuring, “Dick.” He glanced up at her, but she faced forward and said, “I don’t know what happened to you in Blüdhaven all those years ago, and frankly, it’s none of my business.”

Dick’s heart sunk at her words, but then she looked over her shoulder, a solemn tone matching her stance and gaze as she affirmed, “But I am your sister…and I run the best damn informant network this side of the galaxy.” She paused, her words taking on an underlying tone. “There isn’t anything that happens in Gotham and our sister city that I don’t know about.”

Something passed between their eyes and she declared, “I am the family keeper. And I will always be the safety net that catches everyone when they’re in their darkest hours. When there’s something you can’t handle, I will for you.”

Her words made his eyes shine with unshed tears and she gave him a faint smile and a wink before she stepped out of the locker room, leaving him sitting alone, his thoughts drifting back to the rooftop in Blüdhaven.

***

She walked across the floor of the cave to see her father standing there, Jason and Tim hanging off his arms and Damian around his neck; he wore the expression of a tired dad and she couldn’t help but laugh at him. “Having fun, dad?”

He shifted slowly as to not knock one of her brothers off and glared at her. “This is your fault.”

“Guilty as charged father dearest! But it’s food time! Let’s get street tacos.”

Jason grunted at her and shook his head. “No, let’s get gyros!”

“Gyros are disgusting, Jason.”

His features contorted in something only described as an insulted disbelief and he declared, “Just because you don’t like limes and lemons, does not mean gyros are gross, (Y/N).”

“We’re not getting gyros, Jason,” she shot back.

“What about Chinese food?”

(Y/N) looked at Damian and nodded. “I’m down for tacos or Chinese.”

“Can we stop and get some shawarma?”

“Tim, which part of tacos or Chinese sounded like shawarma to you? It’s one or the other. Take your pick.”

“But last night was pizza night! And if I eat Chinese or tacos, I’m going to eat more carbs than I need!”

“You do need more carbs, twig-boy.”

“That was mean, sis.”

“Truthful. I mean how have you not been snapped in half yet? You look like a toothpick.”

The others laughed at her comments, and Bruce looked at her. “Where’s Dick?”

(Y/N) tipped her head back to the lockers. “Still changing.” She motioned to the stairs. “You guys go ahead. I’ll wait on Dickie.” They nodded, and she watched her father trudge past with her three brothers hanging off him.

A smile crossed her lips and a few minutes later, she heard footsteps behind her. “Where’d everybody go?”

She turned around and nodded to the stairs. “Told them to go ahead and get ready.” (Y/N) had barely made it up the first ten steps when she felt Dick stop beside her, and she glanced back at him. “Dick? You good?”

He gazed up at her. “Thank you, (Y/N).”

She gave him a knowing look and said, “I didn’t do anything, Dick.”

“You did.”

“Agree to disagree.” They stared at each other for a second then she tipped her head to the stairs. “Let’s go get some food, kid brother.”

He nodded and started climbing the steps beside her. “I don’t tell you enough, sis…but I love you.”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes and mumbled, “God, you are so sentimental.”

“It’s one of my perks.”

“More like a curse…but yeah…it is.” She paused and he stopped beside her, and she reached over, wrapping her arms around his waist. “I love you too, little brother.” His arms wound around her, and they shared a moment before she patted his back. “Alright. Let go. I’m done being overly affectionate.”

He laughed, letting her go and she walked up ahead of him. He kept his eyes trained to her back, and he remembered something she once told him.

The two of them walked silently down the twisting and turning garden path, following the little white concrete plates that made the trail. Dick looked up from his hands, calling out to the older girl in front of him. “(Y/N)?”

She hummed in response but didn’t look at him. “What is it, Dickie?”

“Why won’t you let me walk beside you?”

(Y/N) glanced over her shoulder. “Because I’m protecting you.”

His head tipped to the side and he stopped walking. “But were at the manor?”

“And something could always happen. I’m in the front, so that if something comes, I can protect you while you run.” She turned around and looked at him. “One day you’ll be old enough to walk beside me instead of behind me.”

Dick’s eyes widened and he jumped excitedly. “When! When do I get to walk beside you instead of behind!”

(Y/N) giggled at her little brother and reached out, holding his shoulders to stop him from jumping up and down. “When you don’t need me to protect you anymore…you can walk beside me.”

“When will that be?”

(Y/N) pulled her hands away and spun back around, continuing her walk. “When it happens…you’ll know.” It was all the answer she gave the young boy, but he continued following her, still behind.

Dick blinked, the memory flashing away as fast as it had come, and he saw her back once more; he called out to her. “When do I get to walk beside you instead of behind?”

(Y/N) halted, mid-step and she glanced over her shoulder, a faint smile playing her lips as she replied, “When you don’t need me to protect you anymore, you can walk beside me.”

“And when will that be?”

She huffed a laugh chuckled at him before she turned back around, though she paused just as she was about to cross the threshold and peered back at him. “Don’t you already know the answer to that?”

“I’m not sure I’ll ever know the answer to that one, sis.”

(Y/N) shrugged and turned back around, declaring, “Then I guess you still need me to protect you.”

Dick watched her disappear into the manor, listening as she got into the argument that her brothers were bickering about with each other, and he smiled faintly. “Yeah…I guess I still do.”

[wormstacheangel]

When Dean finally rescued Cas from the empty, he expected a happy reunion. He envisioned a strong hug like the first time he had escaped. He expected a long-awaited kiss and repeated confessions that weren’t said with sorrow or heartache. He expected to find the same Cas that was taken, but that would have been too easy.

Cas was left awake, alone, and in complete darkness for months on end.

So when Dean went into the empty, ready to wake up the love of his life, he found Cas curled in on himself—staring blankly out into the void of nothingness. He whispered something so softly and quickly that Dean couldn’t pick up on the actual words, but it sounded familiar. Almost like he was humming a song.

Dean tried to get him to stand up on his own, but he quickly realized that Cas wasn’t even looking at him. His gaze was distant, seeing something Dean can’t even imagine. He then noticed the white film over his eyes dimmed the once bright blue.

His fingertips gently traced over the skin he had only dreamt of touching for months before he took a deep, shaky breath to steady himself. With that slight pause, Dean used whatever desperate strength he had and dragged Cas back to the portal.

Back home.

As they got closer, the light of the portal seemed to startle Cas, and he started to shove Dean away. Dean had to put Cas down so he could take his green jacket off and place it over Cas’s head to calm him before he slowly continued to walk through the portal and into the bunker’s library where Jack, Rowena, Eileen, and Sam were waiting for them.

When they walked through, Dean quickly shushed them as he fell to his knees with Cas still in his arms, hidden under the jacket, and covering his ears at the sudden loud voices surrounding them.

Dean looked around at his family, all sharing the same worried glances knowing they were on the same page. Cas’s welcome home party would be pushed back until further notice.

Cas didn’t cry. His expression didn’t change much at all. All Cas did was sit or lay on Dean’s bed with the lights off. All but the desk light. It was an old lightbulb, so the light wasn’t a bright white like the rest of the place. Instead, it illuminated a soft golden glow against the wall.

Cas squinted at it at first, blinking so inhumanly at it, until all Cas did was stare at it. Whenever Dean made any move to turn it off or even just get near the lamp, Cas made a little whine at the back of his throat.

Little noises were the most Dean can get out of Cas. At least it brought him a little relief. It meant Cas could see him at that moment.

Cas still did that rapid talking or singing whenever it was a little bit too quiet. It made Dean wonder if Cas knew he was out of the Empty. Especially during those times when he would stare right past him, unblinking with cold eyes.

It was only the end of the second week when Dean broke down.

[continue under the cut or on AO3]

He didn’t mean to. He was trying so damn hard to keep it together, especially in front of Cas, but one night he just lost it. He can blame the lack of booze in his system, or as he wants, he can blame Sam, who came up to him about a stupid case. It pissed him off more than it should have. The fact that Sam even believed for a second that he would leave the bunker while Cas was like-well the way he was, just gave him enough of an excuse to raise his voice at someone.

Eileen had to step in and tell him to cool off.

Dean stormed off without a glance back and went to his room. He changed into his pajamas and climbed into bed beside Cas. He laid on his stomach as he wrapped one arm over the top of Cas’s waist, scooting close enough so that he could rest his head on Cas’s shoulder. He then opened his mouth to wish him goodnight just like every night, but something in Dean just broke.

He felt the pressure rise up his throat as he tried to hide his face into the familiar body beside him, but the sob still came.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry it took me so long to go get you. Fuck, Cas, please.” Dean took a shaky breath, sniffling as he reached to hold Cas’s hand closer to him. “We missed- I...I missed you. I missed you so much, Cas.” Dean brought Cas’s hand up to his lips and kissed the knuckles before letting the hand rest by his head. His eyes closed as he sighs, “I love you. So come back to me, okay?"

The only response Dean got was a squeeze of the hand, which was enough hope for the future, and more than Dean could have ever asked for at that moment.

As the days went on, Cas didn’t change. Literally and figuratively. He was still an angel, so there was no need for him to shower or brush his teeth, but Dean swore that Cas’s facial hair was growing, so he liked shaving him at least once a week. Cas seemed to like it by the humming noise he made.

They did learn a couple of things as the days went on.

One, peace and quiet are not what they strive for.

It only brought Cas anxiety, and his humming or singing became much louder and more desperate. They fixed that problem with a Bluetooth speaker constantly playing music in the background, a playlist Jack made mixed in with a playlist Jack helped Dean make. It made the humming stop, and Cas started to roll over in bed. He even sat back against the headboard with his eyes closed a few times.

A month after Cas got back, Dean's phone died in the middle of the night, and the silence must have gotten to him. He covered his ears while he started muttering to himself again. Dean woke up and pulled Cas to his chest while softly sing to him in his still half-asleep phase. He didn’t know why that was his first instinct, but he went along with it cause it started to calm Cas down. Then, Cas held him back for the first time—tucking his head right under Dean's jaw and relaxing.

Dean tried not to stiffen at the touch; if he were honest with himself, he would admit he was trying not to cry because he was busy singing. Busy, not wanting to disrupt this moment.

That night Dean sang all night long until Jack checked on them in the early hours and connected his phone.

Two, always have a light source on.

The lamp was the first one they had. Cas constantly wanted it on, but it bothered Dean all the time when he wanted to sleep. So they bought a cool starlight projector, Sam’s idea, that kept the light on the cement ceiling and not on Dean’s face. Cas seemed to enjoy it as he laid on his back, watching it all night, letting Dean curl up on his side as he slept through the night.

Three, never leave Cas alone.

Nobody wanted to leave Cas alone for more than a minute if they could help it. So they made plans to keep him company at all hours of the day. Of course, they weren’t crowding him. They all came in one by one, except for Dean, who would say, “This is my room. I get to come and go as I damn well please.”

Sam liked to sit by Cas's side and talk nerd like they usually would while cleaning his guns or doing research to help another hunter. He would even pause during the one-way conversation to give Cas some time to answer or try to imagine what Cas would say in that situation. Sam was always calm, wanting to keep it as normal as possible while Cas just stared at him, sometimes his eyebrows knitted together, and Dean had to excuse himself as he felt his chest tighten up.

Eileen sat by his side and watched shows she liked while she talked to Cas out loud and signed so he could hear her voice. Even then, she didn’t talk much. Instead, she let the laptop do the talking as she pets Cas’s hair while sitting on the chair by the bed.

Jack came in the most next to Dean. He liked reading to him or talking about how his skills as the new God have improved thanks to Amara.

"Dad, I hope you'll be proud of me." Jack once whispered to Cas, who was having a bad day, checking out more than usual as he stared off into the distance. Eyes wide and almost screaming.

It was almost the end of the second month when another big mile-stone happened.

Jack was lying in bed with Cas while Dean was at his desk, cleaning his guns obsessively again. Jack was reading him a book he bought during his recent trip to the bookstore with Eileen, it was a Star Wars story.

Jack was getting into the book as he read slower but louder during a big fight scene. He got so excited that he even jumped up and looked back at Cas, "Did you hear that, Dad? He won!"

Cas smiled back at him- a genuine smile- and Dean almost dropped the piece of metal in his hand while Jack froze, his shoulders tightening up while he scrunched up his lips as if trying to hold back his cry.

Instead, he quietly composed himself as he asked in a shaky voice, "You want me to read the rest?"

Cas only blinked at him, keeping the slight smile, and Jack took it as a yes. Jack sat beside him again with a big smile plastered on his face, wiping his eyes every other word, as he rested his head on Cas's shoulder to continue reading. Dean didn’t miss when Cas tilted his head down to rest his cheek on Jack’s hair.

He had to excuse himself again.

After that day, Cas slowly started to open up a little more.

Once Dean woke up with Cas out of bed. Dean was already in full panic mode, his shoes on the wrong feet and jacket inside out as he called out for Sam.

Then just as quick as the panic came, relief flooded him when he found Cas in the kitchen trying to make coffee. He turned towards Dean and gave him the smallest of smiles, but it filled Dean with such solace that he just dragged himself to Cas’s space. Dean held his arms open to press Cas into him, and without a second thought, Cas fell right into him as if it was an everyday normal occurrence.

That was the start of Cas now being up and around the bunker. It was like when a baby starts crawling, everyone keeping tabs on the baby’s first steps, except this baby was an eon old celestial being.

The library, Dean’s room, the Dean-cave, and the kitchen were Cas’s favorite places just to sit. He always had Dean’s headphones on, softly playing music, just in case it went quiet, and it took a while for him to be able to walk around without those.

It was the sixth month when Cas wished Dean a goodnight first and then added, “I love you, Dean.”

Dean fought the lump in his throat, but Cas instantly pulled him in, his arms wrapped securely around him. He had so much he wanted to say to Cas just to hear his voice again, anything to listen to his voice again, but instead, he kisses Cas’s chest before saying, “I love you, too.”

Days came and went. Sometimes it seemed like Cas was getting better as he talked a little more, but then those days would come when he would just stare off into the stars on their ceiling. Not moving an inch or bothering to fake breath like he liked. Those days the music was a little louder, and Cas held on to Dean a little tighter.

“I don’t want to go back. Please,” Cas pleaded as he stared wide-eyed at the darkness in the corner of their room. As if he was having a nightmare with his eyes wide open. “Please don’t make me…I-I don���t want to be in the dark again!”

Dean took Cas’s face in between his hands to hold his gaze. Only talking when he knew Cas was seeing him. “It’s okay, Cas. I got you. Nobody’s taking you away from me ever again.”

“Promise?” Dean felt Cas’s grip at his shoulder, holding him with desperation.

“Promise.”

That’s how Cas became human.

The nightmares have him waking up screaming some days, but at least Cas knew he was safe from the Empty’s clutches.

He was going to live his human life being loved and taken care of, and Dean was happy to say he felt Cas was doing the same for him.

[imthebadguyyy]

Mon Amour

Summary - You've grown up with Charles, and as much as you hate to admit it, you love him. Pierre knows, and clearly sees how desperately Charles loves you too. It's true what they say, love will always find a way.

The Monaco Grand Prix was one of the most fun, exhilarating and exciting Grand Prix's of the entire F1 Season. You were excited enough, and since you already lived nearby, all you had to do was make your way to Charles's home, and then make your way to the track together. To say you were excited was an understatement, and you could barely contain the nerves and excitement you were feeling.

Charles was nervous. He didn't know why, Monaco was his circuit, and he always drove well on the track. He had been confident through free practice, and he was starting on pole, with an excellent quali result. But he was nervous, and something told him it had nothing to do with the race, and everything to do with Y/N.

Y/N. His best friend. His go-to. His shoulder to cry on. She had been there through it all, when his dad died, when Jules died. Whenever he needed someone to talk to or just needed a hug, he could always turn to her. He had met Y/N at a go kart race, sitting with her mother, and eating an ice lolly. Her hair had been in two little ponytails, and she was wearing a pretty polka doted red and blue dress. He was sitting with Pierre, and couldn't help staring at the girl, not even paying attention to what Pierre was saying, until he had snapped his fingers in front of Charles's face to tell him the race was about to begin.

The race had been wonderful, and he had won first place. His dad and Pierre's dad had both been so proud, and had bought both of them ice creams, and as they sat eating their cones, Y/N had made her way over to the pair. "You drove really well today, and my mommy told me I should come over to say congratulations" Too surprised to say anything, he let Pierre take over, and watched as he conversed with her. Then, she turned to him and said, "Whats your name? Mine's Y/N' and he had managed to stutter out, "C-Charles"

And thats how your friendship had begun. Since then, you had accompanied him to every race he had, had been there when he signed for Sauber (Alfa Romeo) and then when he signed for Ferrari. You had been so proud, you had cried when he told you, and hugged him tight and told him that you were incredibly proud of him, and that you were sure that his dad and Jules would have been incredibly proud of him too. And then he had cried too, and you two had cried together, and spent the rest of the night together, just hugging each other.

And here you were again, at his door, looking simply stunning in the outfit you had picked for the race track, looking like an angel sent from heaven. Well, you were his angel. The problem was, he couldn't tell you. You didn't love him, and the last thing he needed was to jeopardise your relationship by confessing his feelings. His stupid, stupid feelings.

"You look gorgeous" Charles said, leaning forward to give you a hug, and a soft kiss on your cheek. If he had been looking at you, he probably would have seen how you had gotten slightly flustered at his gesture. "Thanks, you don't look too bad yourself' you replied, reciprocating his gesture by kissing his cheek. Apparently, neither one of you were good at paying attention, because you didn't see the way he blushed either. "Ready for the race?" "Always" "Is Pierre going to be there?" "Yes he is, we'll probably meet him on the way to the paddock" As much as he hated to admit it, he always felt a pang of jealousy when you brought up his best friend, because he thought that you had feelings for the Frenchman,

"Okay then" "Are you ready to go?"

Nodding your head, you picked up your purse and checked your reflection in the mirror one more time, and brushed a stray strand of unruly hair behind your ears. Grabbing the keys to his Ferrari, he closed the door as the both of you left his house. The car ride to the paddock was fairly quiet, as you made occasional comment about random things, and bopped your heads to some music.

Arriving at the paddock, Charles noticed the paps that were waiting to descend upon you two like vultures. "merde" he mumbled under his breath, knowing you didn't really liken your picture being taken by random strangers. Sighing, you reached out to touch his shoulder. Its okay. I don't mind" 'I know, but it's unfair to you to have your privacy invaded" he replied, running his fingers through his hair in frustration. "Hey, it's okay. Let's just go". Opening the car door, you took a deep breath to calm the nerves beginning to appear in your tummy.

But you needn't have worried. As soon as you opened the car door, Charles was by your side, lacing his fingers through yours, the other arm wrapping around your waist, to fully protect you from the prying cameras. Trying not to focus on how right it felt, to have his arm around your body, and to feel his fingers threading through your own. Your heart was beating so fast, you wouldn't be surprised if he could hear it, considering how closely wrapped he was around your own body. As the Ferrari garage came into view, you began to calm down, and became aware of the fact that his arm was still wrapped around your waist, and his hand was still holding yours.

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Walking over from the Toro Rosso/Alpha Tauri garage, Pierre spotted Charles and Y/N making their way over to the Ferrari. Noticing the way Charles kept his arm tightly around Y/N, he couldn't help but grin, and assumed that Charles had finally told Y/N how he felt about her. Grinning even more broadly, he strutted over to the Ferrari garage, and walked over to where his best friend was standing with Mattia and his race engineer. "Hello, mon ami. I see you've finally done it?" somewhat confused, Charles turned to face the frenchmen, and asked, "Done what?" 'Told Y/N you love her" Pierre replied, watching his friends face glow the same red as the colour of his car and race suit. "What?! I have done no such thing. What would make you think that?"

"Let me think, because you've been in love with her since we were children. Come on Charles, don't chicken out now. You should definitely tell her. She is an extremely attractive woman, and I won't be surprised if someone else also likes her or asks her out. You two are made for each other. Now stop delaying !" Sighing, Charles just shook his head, and went into his drivers room, turning halfway to wave at his friend. Somewhat frustrated, he walked into the room, kicking the door in the process. "fanculo, idiota!" he mumbled, hands reaching up to his head to pull on his and let out a growl.

"Charles? You okay ?" Y/N asked, peeking her head into his room, slight concern in her E/C eyes. "Yeah, yeah I'm fine. Just nervous" 'Nervous?' she asked walking in, and sitting down next to him. "Yeah, it's a big race, and points are very important if we want to beat Mercedes and actually win this year. Besides the last race wasn't that good, and Mattia was a little upset about it. I'm just a little nervous" Reaching out to take his hand into hers, Y/N ran a soft hand through his hair, and his eyes fluttered shut for a second. "Charles, listen to me. You are an incredibly talented person. When you get in the car, you push it to the limits and you give it everything. It's okay to be nervous, but you're on pole. I know you will give it your all, and every single person in this garage believes in you. And I believe in you the most. So go out there , and give it your everything. I know you can do it" As you had been speaking, Charles had been running his thumb over your knuckles, on the hand that was holding his, and when you finished, he raised it to his lips, and pressed his soft, pink lips to your knuckles.

"Thank you, tesoro" You froze. He had never called you 'sweetheart' before. You could feel your heart rate rising ever so slightly, and your breathing become slightly shallow, as his brown hazel eyes looked up into your own, and seemingly held your gaze. The tension in the room seemed to thicken, reaching upto a point where it was nearly suffocating. Heads leaning closer to each other, his hand tightening the grip he had on yours, sliding softly up your arm, as your eyes fluttered shut, the anticipation sending your heart rate up to crazy numbers. His face was so close to yours, you could feel his breath on your lips, almost hear his heartbeat, and hoping to God he couldn't hear how embarrassingly loud yours was. Just as your lips nearly touched, there was a knock on the door, and his race engineer, poked his head in, looking somewhat awkward. "Its time to go Charles, time to get in the car"

Sighing softly, he pulled away, as your eyes fluttered behind your eyelids. "Go and win this. I'll be cheering you on" you said, not quite meeting his eyes, but giving him a soft, half hearted smile. "Thanks" he said, giving your hand a squeeze, as he walked out to the garage to get in his car. Burying your head in your hands, you felt like you could scream, sob and punch something at the same time. Letting out a shaky breath, you ran a hand over your face and stood up, making your way up to where you were watching the race from.

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The race was over, and Charles had won 1st place, with Lewis in second and Valterri in third. As he had stood on the podium, he had found your face in the crowd, smiling and cheering for him, as you let out a whoop that he couldn't hear, but you didn't care. The adrenaline from the win was pumping through his veins, as he climbed down from the podium, eyes searching for you, as his teammates and crew congratulated him on his win, but he was really only half listening.

Then he saw you, standing in front of the garage, hair flying around in the wind that had picked up in the last lap of the race. Smiling as you looked up to see him, you began to run towards him, as he ran to meet you halfway. You jumped into his arms, as his wrapped around your thighs and your waist to keep you stable, as you wrapped yours around his muscled neck, leaning your forehead down to rest against his, as you muttered a soft "congratulations' in his ear, and pressed your lips to his temple, as his eyes closed, fully revelling in your embrace and body heat, not caring about how the paps had probably got a pretty good shot of you two, or how the tabloids were probably wetting themselves with article possibilities. 'thank you mon ange, thank you for supporting me" "anytime"

As you planted your feet back on the ground, and loosened your grip around him slowly, he moved his arm so one was wrapped around your waist, and the other rested loosely on his hip. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Pierre approaching, and smiled at his best friend. "Congratulation mon ami. That was a superb race. Y/N long time no see, seems like you have forgotten me"

Giggling, you stepped away from Charles to give him a hug. "Of course not, how could I forget my best friend! I was going to saw hello before the race but I didn't get the chance. Good race!" "Thank you, It's so good to see you again here. Looks like Charles has been taking up all your time" He said, smirking at the Monégasque driver, who blushed, before looking away. Laughing, you shook your head, moving your body closer to Charles's again. "Oh Y/N you should come to the party tonight. It's on a yacht, and we can have some good fun a well. What do you say ?' "Oh I'm in!"

"You can come as one of our plus ones" Pierre said, eyes shifting over to Charles's face which was the same colour as his bright red Ferrari suit. Charles wanted to punch and hug Pierre at the same time, clearly seeing what he was trying to do. "Yeah, okay I'll be there" "Great! See you then, bye for now. Go celebrate with your man"

"your man"

Why did that sound so right? Why did it make your heart burst with happiness? Why did you want him to be your man? And why did it seem like the one thing you wanted the most was the one thing you couldn't have.

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Looking at the mirror one last time, you smoothed out the silky material of the red satin dress you had decided to wear to the party. Paired with a black choker necklace, and a pair of sleek black heels to finish the outfit. You had gone bold with the makeup, winged liner and smoky eyeshadow. Finally, you had swiped a tube of ruby red lipstick across your lips, and sprayed some more -expensive -than -you -could -even -begin- to -fathom Gucci perfume that Charles had bought you for your birthday on your wrists, neck, ears, and body.

You didn't know what you were doing. But it felt good to be confident. It felt good to pretend as though you were completely in control, when all you wanted was to curl up in a little ball, and cry. You didn't know what you were doing, but it felt good to pretend as though you didn't care for Charles, when all you wanted to do was grab his stupidly handsome face and kiss his wonderfully soft, pink lips.

Shaking off your anxiety, you reached for the phone to call Pierre, who was supposed to pick you up and drive you to the party. Charles had wanted too, but he had to go and meet some friends who wanted to congratulate on his victory. Taking a deep breath, you picked up your black clutch, which had your phone, lipstick, tissues and your keys, just in time to hear a knock on the door. Walking over to the door of your Monaco apartment, you opened it to find Pierre, in a lovely light blue suit, hair slicked slightly with gel, and a Rolex on his wrist. As he looked at you, his eyes widened, and he looked at you in shock for a few seconds, before saying "You look absolutely stunning, princess. Absolutely gorgeous" "Thank you Pierre ! You're looking pretty dapper yourself, I must say" you replied, flashing him a smile. "Thank you Y/N/N. Someone won't be able to keep his eyes off of you" he said, smirking as he saw your eyes widen softly, as you grew visibly flustered. "Who?" You asked, suddenly interested in looking at the clutch in your hand. "Oh come on, Leonardo DiCaprio. Who do you think ?!'

"I don't know, Pierre. Why don't you tell me?"

"Ces deux idiots, Charles, you sweet dumbass!"

"Yeah right. Let's just go please, we are already late, and I don't want to be out for too long"

"Fine"

-------------------------------------------------------The party was extravagant. There were these model chicks everywhere, with the most minimal of clothing, drooling over whichever driver they could find. Charles had had this one blonde girl hit on him for nearly an hour, and he was nearing the end of his patience. He didn't want any random girl for a one night stand. He wanted Y/N. And she wasn't at the party yet. But God, he couldn't stop thinking about her. He couldn't stop thinking about the moment they had shared. They had almost kissed. His heart did little jumps whenever he thought about it, and GOD, he was not doing a good job at hiding it. Everyone in the room had noticed the lovestruck look on his face. From across the room, George and Alex made their way over the Monégasque driver, who looked lost, and slightly irritated.

"Hey man, good job today! That was an excellent race" "Thanks, you guys did brilliantly as well"

"So who's got you looking like a little lost puppy?" George asked, grinning at the man, who looked slightly flustered at his comment. "What? No one, just post race excitement I suppose?"

"I'm not taking your word for it. Who's the girl? Come on"

Just as Charles opened his mouth to speak, there was a slight distraction, as he turned towards the door on the left, where people kept coming and going, and his jaw dropped. It was Y/N. But she looked like an angel that had fallen from the heavens, and sent to bless his heart. As he watched her make her way across the room, with Pierre right behind her, he felt his mouth and throat become dry, and his heart felt like it was going to fail at any moment. His palms were becoming sweaty and he felt like a nervous wreck, ready to collapse at any moment.

"Wow, mate. Is that Y/N ? She looks stunning!" Alex said, smiling as he watched her make her way towards their little group. "Yeah it is mate. She looks absolutely gorgeous!" George said, waving to the woman as she neared them. Charles couldn't speak.He just stared. "When you've put your eyes back in your head, and closed your mouth, you could maybe compliment her, and finally ask her out." Alex said, noticing how his friend had become silent and kept opening and closing his mouth like a goldfish.

Laughing, George clapped Charles on the back, "Ah, so she's the one that's got you all lovey dovey. Good going mate, she's a beauty" As he finished speaking, Y/N had approached the group, and was saying hello to Alex. Leaning forward, George gave her a hug as well, having become acquainted with her through Pierre. "Y/N you look beautiful. Absolutely gorgeous" he said, smiling at her, "Thank you so much! You guys all look lovely too!"

'You're too kind Y/N, George looks like he hasn't even brushed his hair back properly" Alex joked, receiving a slight shove from the Brit. "And, Charles, what do you think? How do I look this fine evening?" you asked, turning to face him. His face was slightly flushed and he mumbled something that sounded like "mimblewimble" and then cleared his throat. "You look prettier than anyone here tonight. You look like an angel"

Completely awestruck at his words, all you could do was gape, and then mutter a soft thank you, and pray to God he couldn't feel the nerves radiating off of you. "Well, despite the lovely company, and palpable sexual tension, I'm going to go find Max and Daniel, and go get a drink" Alex said, giving Y/N a hug and leaving with George. Leaving you alone with a very flustered Charles. "Do you want to get out of here?' he asked suddenly, looking at you with his warm hazel brown eyes. "I just got here, but yes please. I already feel so out of place among these models and superstars" you said, giggling softly. "Well, they've got nothing on you. Trust me, you're fifteen times prettier than anyone else here"

"Thank you Charles" you said, smiling softly, and touching his arm. "Anytime,tesoro" there it was again, that nickname that had your heart jumping. The last time he had called you that you guys had almost kissed. The memory returned, filling your tummy with butterflies, and all you wanted to do was to grab his stupidly handsome face and kiss him. The two of you made your way down to the docks, where you had a special spot that was like a hidden cave, covered with some wildflowers and ivy, that you two had discovered when you guys were fifteen, and you had had a bad day at school. Charles had hugged you, and told you, "no matter how bad a day at school is, I will always be there to hug you and make you feel better, always" That was when you had fallen in love with him.

As you made your way to the cave, you shivered, the sea air that was blowing around was surprisingly chilly, and you had forgotten to bring a jacket. Being the gentleman that he was, Charles took of his dark blue suit jacket, and draped it around your soldiers. 'Can't have you freezing to death" "I won't" you replied, regretting your decision to wear heels. As the two of you reached the cave, you sat down on the floor, and pulled off your heels, and stretched your legs out, letting out a sigh as you did so. Smiling at your actions, Charles sat down next to you, his thigh brushing against yours, arm wrapping around your waist, as your head dropped onto his shoulder.Beneath you two, the water lapped gently against the rocks, and the soft sound was calming and soothing.

For a while, you stayed that way, you tracing random patterns onto his left hand, while his right arm that was wrapped around your waist traced circles on your waist. His head was resting on top of yours now, and in the chilly air, the warmth radiating off of his body was comforting. "Y/N, do you like Pierre?" he blurted out suddenly, making you look up at him in shock. "What makes you think that?' you asked, leaning slightly away from his body to look at his face properly. "Well, I just assumed, I guess, you do seem very very comfortable and happy around him" "Oh my god, you idiot" you said, giggling softly at the slight look of jealousy on his face. "Pierre was right"

"What was he right about ?"

"Nothing"

"Look I'm sorry, I don't know where that came from its just that I love you and -"

You cut him off, pressing your lips to his, as his arms wrapped around your torso, after initial surprise. Yours made his way to his shoulders, one on his shoulder, and the other to the back of his head, while his grip around your body tightened. You two fit together like two pieces of a puzzle, bodies moulding into each other, lips fitting like two puzzle pieces together. This was what you had been missing from your life. This passionate, romantic, breath taking love, one that made your heart go 200 miles an hour and then stop.

Charles couldn't believe what was happening. He was kissing Y/N, and it felt so right. She was intoxicating, the scent of her perfume was clouding his senses in the best way possible, filling him with a new need, a hunger that had been growing for so long was finally being satiated, and it was electrifying. He slid his hands up her back, to tangle his fingers in her hair, pulling ever so slightly, and revelling in the sound that left her lips.

Finally breaking away, panting and out of breath, he rested his forehead on hers. "je t'aime mon amour" he mumbled, eyelids fluttering shut. "I love you too. So much" Completely blissed out, the two remained in their embrace, neither of them wanting to break apart, from what felt like a dream. "Did you just kiss me, or am I dreaming" He asked, looking down at Y/N who had her head on his shoulder again.

"Why don't you kiss me again and find out ?"

"Of course, mon amour"

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