#i kind of regret going to college at all. i wish i had just gone to trade school
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
andreafmn · 1 year ago
Text
Kinktober ⛓️ Day 3
Tumblr media
Word Count: 2.5K Paring:  Lip Gallagher x Fem!Reader Prompt @kinktober2023: Hate Sex WARNINGS: SMUT 18+ (minors DNI),  p-in-v sex, foul language, reader is technically underage
Summary: There is no one that (Y/N) despises more than Philip Gallagher, but having his brother as her best friend forces them in close proximity more than they would like. Or maybe they do?
A/N: This is set some time during season 3 so Lip is around 18 and reader would be 17 since she's contemporary with Ian's age, so do with that what you will.
<- Previous
Tumblr media
“Yo, Ian,” Lip’s voice rang through the house. “You’re girlfriend’s here!”
“Oh, fuck off, Lip,” (Y/N) said as she bumped past him into the Gallagher home. “I know you wish I was here to see you, but I don’t do charity work on Tuesdays.” 
“Fuck you, (Y/L/N). You’d be lucky if I was the one you were studying with.” 
“Of course, the genius Philip Gallagher that doesn’t even want to go to college,” she snickered, stopping at the rest on the stairs. “I’ll take my chances with my own brain. Thanks.”  
“You’ll regret helping Ian with math,” he called as he walked to the front door. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” 
With an exasperated scoff, (Y/N) walked up the rest of the stairs, clutching her backpack tighter than she should have. She didn’t understand why she and the older Gallagher son didn’t get along. She had a wonderful relationship with everyone else in the family –even Frank was courteous enough with her– but something never clicked with Lip. Every time they were in close proximity, they would bicker and fight until someone else got in the way. It made it especially difficult when (Y/N) came over to spend time with Ian. 
She would never say she hated Lip. But the sentiment was close enough that others would notice. Between the terrible side-eyes and the snide comments, being around the two could easily become suffocating. Granted, everyone but them knew what was truly happening. They had met their match in each other but were too stubborn to admit it. 
“You ran into Lip, didn’t you?” Ian chuckled as his friend walked into his room. “It’s all over your face.” 
“Unfortunately, I did,” she sighed, plopping down next to him on the floor. “But he seemed to be going somewhere, so I didn’t have to talk to him for much.” 
“Just long enough to make sure you got annoyed. Perfect mood to study Geometry with you.” 
“Fuck you, I’m always a delight.” 
“Sure. Until you spend a second with Lip, and then everything goes to shit.” 
“Shut up, Ian,” she said, rolling her eyes. “If you want me to help you study, you’ll stop talking about your despicable brother, Phillip.” 
Hours passed between textbooks and worksheets, notebooks and loose papers, and somehow the bright afternoon sun had shifted into night. Ian had already gone to bed, tired from a long day of shapes and mathematical equations. Almost everyone in the house had done the same, tucked into bed early, which was a luxury for anyone on the South Side. 
Meanwhile, (Y/N) was still wide awake, taking advantage of the tiredness of the family to use up what was left of the hot water. She could have gone home, to her packed house and probably cold water, but she found comfort staying with the Gallaghers. The family was a melting pot of chaos, there were more fights than a WWE ring, and every single day brought a different kind of adventure. Her house had all of that, except the real warmth of a family. And being there made her feel like she was a part of something. 
The water ran across her skin, soothing the tight muscles that stiffened her body. The smell of soap filled her nose as she lathered herself, and she was glad that the bar seemed new still. They were small luxuries that she was grateful she could partake in every once in a while. And in the quiet of the night, it was almost peaceful.
Until a sound that did not fit into her spa-like scenario filled the air. From behind the curtain, she could hear a strong stream of liquid falling into the toilet. But she knew she had locked the door —not that it would have worked in that house anyway. 
She moved the curtain slightly to reveal Lip standing in front of the toilet. “What the fuck are you doing?” (Y/N) exclaimed, making sure her body was covered. “Can’t you see I’m using the bathroom?” 
“You’re in the shower. Toilet was up for grabs.” 
“Why couldn’t you have gone downstairs?” 
“Because I was already upstairs,” he shrugged, shaking his cock above the toilet as he finished. “Stop gawking, (Y/N). I know it’s impressive, but staring is kind of rude.” 
“Fuck you, Lip. I’ve seen better,” she said, closing the curtain to conceal the way her skin was flushing. “I’ve definitely been with better.” 
“Keep telling yourself that,” he snickered, turning on the sink. “But we both know the guys you’ve fucked are not exactly Adonises.”
“You’re such an asshole, Lip,” she scoffed. “If you’re gonna be here, at least pass me my towel.”
“Why should I? You can just step out.” 
“You’re not seeing me naked, Lip.” 
“It’s only fair,” he chuckled. “You saw mine, I get to see yours.” 
“Stop being a perv, Lip. I’m not one of those chicks you fuck for fun. I actually have standards.” 
“Right, and they’re so high, right?”
“They are.” 
“Is that why you fucked Billy Spencer two months ago or lost your v-card with Jesse Suarez in his car? Yeah, those standards are skyscraping high.” 
In a fit of rage, (Y/N) ripped the curtain open and sauntered out of the tub, getting as close to Lip as possible. “You don’t get to fucking judge my decisions, Philip,” she spat, jabbing her index finger against his chest. “Who I sleep with or don’t sleep with is none of your business. And you sure as hell are one to talk. Your list is not the most pristine, either. Starting with Karen, for example.”
“Don’t you fucking talk about her,” he said through gritted teeth, pushing back on her as she had. “You don’t talk about her.” 
“What? You can dish it out but can’t fucking take it, huh?”
“I can take whatever you fucking throw at me, (Y/N). I ain’t scared of you.” 
“Maybe you should be,” she continued. There was almost no space between them. She had him pressed against the wall, their noses almost touching as they heaved in anger. “There is no one else that can put you in your place like I can, and you know it.” 
“I don’t need you to put me in my place.”
“Are you sure?”
“You’re so fucking infuriating!” 
“Yeah? And what are you gonna do about it?” 
Lip’s next move was a surprise to her. She was expecting him to keep yelling or stomp out of the bathroom. Instead, he placed a hand on either side of her face and crashed his lips onto hers. He was all kinds of rough and forceful, clashing teeth and lips together without any care. But somehow, (Y/N) found herself kissing back just as roughly, grabbing onto the lapel of his jacket. 
But it wasn’t until she felt the roughness of his hands on the skin of her back that she realized she had jumped out of the shower, naked and still dripping with water. She jumped away from Lip as though his touch was fire and scrambled for her towel, trying her best to cover her body from him.
“Why are you covering yourself now?” he laughed. “I already saw everything, (Y/N).”
“Fuck you, Philip.”
“I was gonna let you,” he grinned. “But it looks like you got performance anxiety. Maybe you’re not as good as guys say.” 
“Not that it’s any of your concern, but I’m great in bed,” she argued. “But I would rather do it with someone I actually like.”
“It’s just sex, (Y/N),” he countered. “This is not to fall in love.” 
(Y/N) kept quiet for a beat, thinking over the boy’s request. His reputation for being a good lay preceded him, and she would have been lying if she said she had never thought about it. But the fact that his personality was almost revolting made her wonder if it was worth it. 
“God, you’re so fucking infuriating,” she said before doing the same thing he had done. “This means nothing. You’re just convenient.”
“Right,” he chuckled against her mouth. “Keep telling yourself that.”
“Oh, shut up already.” 
“Make me.” 
Her lips did all the answering, molding to his mouth perfectly, their tongues dancing together in perfect symphony. If she had believed in fate and the alignment of the universe, she would have deluded herself into thinking that they were meant to be. 
Lip’s clothes were rough against her unclothed skin, the zippers and the fabrics scratching at her body and rubbing the most sensitive parts of her body that were exposed. Warmth pooled between her legs with the kiss alone, and her body’s reaction scared her. It was almost instantaneous, and it had been the first time it had happened. 
“It’s not fair that I’m the only one that’s naked,” she said breathlessly.
“Do you ever stop fucking talking?” 
“Not when my mouth’s unoccupied,” she snickered. “And I have a lot to say.”  
“You’re too fucking much,” he grumbled as he took off layer after layer of clothing, letting them fall to the floor. “Now come here.”
He kissed her roughly again, pressing his chest as close to her body as he could, his hands snaking to the small of her back. As their mouth moved in synch, they walked backward until her back was pressed against the wall, the coldness making her skin erupt in goosebumps. But his hands were enough to build a fire inside her. The way they mapped every inch of her body and worked in tandem with his mouth to find her most sensitive spots. 
Lip nipped at her jaw and her neck, traveling down to her collarbone as his hands tweaked the hardened peaks of her breasts. Somehow, he was able to annoy her within an inch of raging ire and could bring her to the brink of orgasm with just his mouth and hands. 
In a swift move, Lip turned (Y/N), bending her against the wall as he pulled the zipper of his pants down. The clothes pooled at his ankles as he held his cock and lined himself up with her wetness, running the head across her fold and teasing her clit. 
“For someone that is just doing this out of convenience, you’re really wet,” he chuckled darkly. “Have you been dreaming about this?” 
“I could ask the same of you, Philip,” she retorted. “Because for someone that doesn’t really care, you’re really fucking hard.” 
“I’m only just a man, (Y/N).” 
“How about you shut up and prove it already, then? Maybe…” 
(Y/N)’s words died in her throat as she felt him sink into her completely, stretching her walls like no one had done before. He took the air out of her lungs, a moan getting strangled in her throat at the suddenness. 
Lip didn’t move instantly, allowing her body to get used to the size. At least, that was what he would have said if she had asked. Truthfully, being inside her was the most overwhelming experience he had ever had. He needed a moment to compose himself before he busted too early. The last thing he needed was for (Y/N) to have more ammo against him. He enjoyed their bickering reparté, but he had quite the reputation when it came to sex, and he wouldn’t let her ruin it. Even if his body was trying to betray him. 
Once he felt he could control himself, he started moving hips, quickly setting a pace that had (Y/N) letting out a string of moans that he wanted to listen to for the rest of his life. Her hands gripped the towel bar before her, her knuckles turning white from the tightness. She met his every move, pushing against him as he pummeled into her. 
“Harder,” she meweled. “Fuck me harder, Philip.” 
Lip did exactly as told. Skin met skin at a rapid pace, filling the otherwise quiet room with pants, moans, and slaps. Even her using his full name did not put a damper on his mood, rather loved the way it sounded in her mouth. And for the first time, it didn’t sound like she was saying it with  hate. At least, not completely. 
He snaked his hand around her body, his hand finding the mound of her clit and pressing two fingers on it. They circled and rolled the bud, making her walls clench around him as he pistoned into her. He knew both of them were reaching their end. The tightening of her cunt and the tightening of his balls told him enough.
“Fuck, don’t stop, Lip. Don’t you dare fucking stop.” 
“I wasn’t planning to.” 
And he didn’t. He kept thrusting until (Y/N) let out a pleasurable yell that had him covering her mouth. As he did, she bit down on his skin unconsciously, making him moan and awakening something in him he didn’t know was dormant. It brought him right to the brink of his end, and it took everything in him to leave her warmth and explode all over her ass. 
His body slumped over hers, absentmindedly kissing the skin of her shoulder as they both came down from their orgasm. They felt comfortable in their silence, their pants synching and their bodies melting against each other. If they could have, they would have fallen asleep in that very position. 
But a knock on the door startled them apart.
“Yo, I need the bathroom,” Carl called from the other side of the door. “I’ve gotta piss real bad.” 
“Can you go downstairs, Carl?” (Y/N) asked. “I’m just finishing up in the shower.” 
“Ugh, fine! Just hurry up. There’s more people in this house, you know?” 
“Yeah, sorry!” 
After wiping themselves down, Lip and (Y/N) started getting dressed, neither meeting each other’s gaze. “We don’t speak about this to anyone,” she finally said. “Especially not Ian. And this can’t happen ever again.” 
“Sure,” he mumbled. “Whatever you say.” 
“I’m serious, Philip,” she pleaded, placing a hand on his chest to get his attention. “If Ian finds out, I’ll never hear the end of it.” 
“I won’t say anything,” he laughed, looking at her in a way he never had before. “But I wouldn’t mind if this happened again.” 
“Are you serious?” 
“What? The rumors are true. You are a good lay.” 
“You’re not too bad yourself, Mr. Gallagher,” she grinned before stopping at the door to exit first. “But I don’t think this will happen again.” 
“Keep telling yourself that, (Y/N).” 
“Fuck off, Philip,” she whispered from the end of the hall before disappearing into the boys’ bedroom, leaving Lip to think of just how he could make this a repeat situation.
My content will always be free, but if you’re feeling particularly generous, you can leave a tip on any of my posts  or buy me a coffee to support me and my love of writing If you’d like to be tagged in every Kinktober work, any fandom or story: click here Make sure you have my notifications on so you know every time I post!
Taglist: @adaydreamaway08 @beckiej0073-blog @fandomonetwo @thecollectorofwords-blog @yuki254 @sleepilysworld @laylasbunbunny @aonungsfreak @coquita @mzmarvel22 @euphoria1992-blog @laury-blackbeak @unstablekay @fresita1218 @buckywenal @shadowwolfqueen-blog
1K notes · View notes
luvtak · 11 months ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
birthday blues, psh
☆ pairing fratboy!sunghoon x reader
☆ genre/tw fluffy fluff fluff, a twinge of angst, sunghoon has a case of the birthday blues :(( i wrote the mc to be quite introverted, hand holding lmao, cheek kisses! a little miscommunication, a very sweet and soft getting together fic <33
☆ w/c 1705
☆ a/n happy holidays!! i began this fic on sunghoons birthday but because i am terrible at planning anything i just finished tonight lol, so heres a little present from me!! i hope you like it <3
masterlist
Tumblr media
With the bad music and the smell of cheap beer, you find yourself regretting walking through the door. The house is bustling with conversation and rhythmless dancing–not a sweater in sight despite the frigid air outside. Not one person you know or like is occupying the four walls around you, and even worse, your drink is weak. 
The melting ice is enough to kick start a negotiation with yourself, you’ll leave after this drink… tell Sunghoon happy birthday, and then we’re gone. You’re not sure why you even bothered… you’ve been on three dates with the boy and barely kissed twice. While he’s handsome and funny, you don’t know if that's enough to endure another mindless frat party while your roommates are cozying up at home watching the new season of Love is Blind. 
While initially you held some reservations about going on another date with a frat boy, Sunghoon proved himself to be very sweet.
 The first date was nice, dinner and a movie (action which was ironically very boring) and a chaste cheek kiss that kept you up way past your desired Tuesday bedtime. His lips were soft and his eyes were kind–a sort of unfamiliar shy glimmer staring down at you. He was ever the gentleman, opening doors and making sure to tell you how pretty you looked… He was perfect. Which was odd for a guy who spent all his time with boys who carried a carousel of girls around. 
The second date was quick but sweet, a speedy lunch in between classes, leaving a smile on your face until you got home that night. He had asked about you the whole time, wanting to know how your day was, and if you had had a good time when you went out before. And finally, the third, wherein the very pretty boy asked you to come to his birthday party before placing a swift kiss upon your lips. 
It was almost like you were possessed. Feeling a great urge to be there to celebrate with him–very unlike the person you claim to be, but he asked so sweetly. His fanged smile was large and on display, and he had a look in his warm eyes that reminded you too much of an overloved puppy. Too much time with those eyes and you were agreeing before he could say please. 
Now, you wished you had the gift of prophecy. If you knew you wouldn’t see the boy once since walking through the doors 45 minutes ago you never would have said you’d come. Of course, it’s his birthday and you’re sure he’s busy being shuffled along friends and pretty girls who’ve long since held his favor, but he asked you to come and if you have to spend another minute listening to mindless chatter you might never speak to him again–no matter how much you like his company.
The boys next to you are crass and the girls much more indulgent than you feel prepared for. Enabling their counterparts with enough alcohol and shitty pick up lines to put you out for the whole year. And while listening in to others' conversations isn’t the nicest thing to do, the loud groanings of, “Hey, pretty lady…you’re heating up this whole place.” were just too nauseating to ignore. 
While slurred words are always swoonworthy, it may be time to head out. 
It is barely eleven, but you’re ready to go–ego bruised and brain ready to rest with some mind numbing television. Not too mention, phone long dead from too many tiktoks watched to pass the time. You can’t believe he didn’t even make an effort to say hello. You made it clear you didn’t like this sort of thing–would rather spend a Friday night away from the hubbub and cheer of a college party that lost its charm the spring of your freshman year. 
Whatever, if he didn’t care you’re just glad he showed his true colors sooner rather than later. While it sucks,  it’s no use crying over another too pretty boy. 
Peeling yourself from the back corner, you find yourself jostled this way and that until your skin meets the chilly December air. A momentary shock of relief rings through your gut, finally away from the rotten place a younger you loved, and an older you was over. 
The night for all its misadventures did end up being a pretty one; stars barely peeking through the light covered city and shining down on the car packed street. Straining your neck to see them for just a minute before making your way to your car, you eye a startling figure sitting on the frat house’s roof. 
A boy with a curious resemblance to Sunghoon, but why would the birthday boy be out here instead of at his own party? His hair is mussed and though he is far up, it’s easy to see the messy state of his clothes–sweatpants and a sweater one could only describe as something a grandfather would wear. 
“Sunghoon? What are you doing up there?” it's too far, but you think you can see the little lift of his lips, a look of relief gracing his features. 
“What do you mean? I’m waiting for you, didn’t you get my message?” His voice, while covered by the echoing party and the nighttime sounds, still carries over the expanse of the front yard as if he was in front of you–as confused as it was, it does little to ease the annoyance of before. 
“What are you talking about Park? I’ve been here for an hour and haven’t gotten anything from you.” 
“Oh I’m Park now? But it’s my birthday.” betrayed by your own temper, you can’t help but let your teeth show. His ever composed countenance running away as he whines his words. 
Maybe it’s dramatic and maybe he did send you a message, but the bitter pain of feeling ignored won’t go away just because he’s cute. 
Even if he is really really cute. 
“How am I supposed to know if you really did send me a message and aren’t just saying that now that you’ve been caught?” 
“Come on now, Silly, charge your phone.” he’s grinning now, tongue running along the points of his left canine. “I’d invite you up, but it looks like you may just push me off.” 
“Why are you up there anyway? There's a bunch of people in there waiting for the birthday boy.” 
It could be your imagination, or a trick of the shadows, but it’s almost like that one word made his whole body falter. Straight shoulders falling below his ears and long eyelashes hitting the peaks of his cheekbones. Eyes closed and figure sad. 
From a young age you’ve been rather curious; looking through hidden presents and asking too personal questions to the people around you, but you don’t think you’ve ever been more interested than now. Looking at this handsome boy–too early to love, but too late to ignore–sitting alone on his birthday is enough to make you pause. 
“Sunghoon? Are you okay? I won’t push you off if you help me up.” 
While he doesn’t answer your question, he does reach out a hand to show you the way. Laughing loudly when you stumble through the tree branches, and quick jabs at your obvious roof climbing inexperience. It’s only when you’ve safely landed next to him that you can really see the slightly blue expression on his face. Of course he’s smiling–you don’t think he’s ever looked at you without one, but there's something invading his form. An ever present dusk sitting along his spine. 
The both of you sit in silence for a long time, looking out at the street and laughing at the party goers retreating through the yard. Young men and women stumbling and giggling their way through another weekend. It’s only when the music changes from obnoxiously loud electronica to obnoxiously loud rap does he speak. 
“I’ve never really liked today, you know? I get so excited for it to come, thinking it's gonna be a magical day that changes everything. Then I wake up and it’s just another boring day. I guess I haven’t learned how to deal with the disappointment, 
I’m sorry you were in there alone, I– I wish I knew you went inside. I was hoping I’d catch you going in and bring you up here. I thought maybe if I spent it with you, it could be life changing. Exciting enough to be worth another year.” 
How interesting birthdays are, to be so momentous and yet so disenchanting. You wait 365 days for a moment to pass, another year older with no magic in sight. Although you can’t ignore that he believed you to be life changing. How sweet, to think after only three dates he’s already decided that you’re who he wants to spend his day with. Face warming and hands shaking, you’re able to let out a soft laugh, before finally answering, 
“Well, maybe we should just treat it like any other day. No cake or presents, I won’t even wish you a happy birthday." It's strange how this seemingly mean sentiment lights up his face: brown eyes becoming crescent moons, a goofy grin settling along his mouth. A look worthy of a birthday. 
“What should we do instead?” 
“Hmm, if you come with me right now we might be able to see the rest of Love is Blind with my roommates. Kazuha and Intak swore they wouldn’t watch the weddings without me… Only if you want to.” 
And the way you looked at him with wide eyes and a hopeful smile, how could he say no. How could he tell you that all day he wished he could spend it with you.
He helps you down and keeps your hand in his as you begin the trek back to your apartment. The night is cold, but his figure next to yours heats you right up–brightening the walk back to your apartment, and making you thank whatever power made you stop to look at the stars, never knowing the tall boy was wishing on every birthday cupcake that you’d join him on the roof and change his life.
Tumblr media
© LUVTAK
190 notes · View notes
nyrasbloodyclover · 1 year ago
Text
hypnotic (kai anderson x reader)
Tumblr media
cw: breeding kink, eating disorder (it's really really bad), mommy issues, mentions of suicide, parental abuse, cults, kai is his own warning really, murder, overstimulation
a/n: if you're not into this pleaseeeee leaveeeeee i don't want tumblr to delete my blog again. also you can read this fic on ao3 if you'd like, link is in my pinned post. and if, by any chance, you relate to this i am so sorry.
Tumblr media
What I wanted right now, was to get out of my house, go anywhere, just so I could stop listening to constant fighting and screaming from my parents. I couldn't bear it anymore. I had one year until college but it seemed impossible to survive that long. 
"Oh, look who locked herself in her room!" My mother bursted in and a pit started forming in my stomach. I didn't move. "When are you going to start being useful? You're in here all the time, you could start paying rent." 
Now, what was I supposed to say to that? If I told her that the reason I spent all my time in my room was because they wouldn't stop screaming at each other and I would just be their punching bag, she wouldn't listen and the situation would only get worse.
"Or maybe it's time for you to find a job. Now you're just living like a parasite." I stared. My mother was a very complex character. I think she would be capable of pulling Gone Girl on us. She has the mentality. Just saying.
My father on the other hand, he's weak. Or she made him weak. I don't remember the last time he stood up for himself. He's tired, I can see that clearly. I just wish they would get a divorce. It's so draining to wake up everyday and live in fear that your every move is going to be a mistake, something to criticize. 
I don't remember the last time I felt truly at peace, but I could afford myself distractions. That's how I ended up scrolling through Tumblr 12 hours per day and forgetting to eat because the skinny girls I came across were just so pretty. Food was my enemy. We couldn't stand each other. And the guilt simply because of eating was the worst feeling ever.
Empty is pretty. And I wanted to look pretty, so I starved. It was my sport. It still is. The joy of seeing my hipbones and ribs after some time was indescribable. I loved to lay awake at night and touch my bones, feel them as I tried to fall asleep. Of course, there were many times when I just couldn't take it anymore and I binged. I would regret it immediately and restrict even more.
"Alright. I'll find a job." I stared at her with empty eyes. I was dizzy, almost like I got drunk. She exited the room and slammed the doors behing her. I think I'm never going to fully understand her.
I stared at my ceiling, having no energy to move, even though I had unfinished assignments hanging above my head, screaming at me to do them, but I just wanted to sleep. School can wait. I think my red lipstick was smudged, but I had no energy to take it off. My hair was a mess, too. I tried to straighten it but my natural waves were too stubborn. I fell asleep.
A week passed. My life stayed the same except for my new job at the restaurant—The Butchery On Main.
The two sweet women who own it were kind enough to let me work even though they don't employ people under eighteen. I worked mostly after my school, until the closing. I didn't mind since I got to leave the house and get a break from my parents. 
People were nice, I took their orders, served their food. The restuarant was mostly empty during my shifts, but nonetheless it was almost hard, working with food. All those calories around me made me want to puke. And I wasn't much of a puker. I had the urge to binge. It was disgusting. But I wasn't going to throw all my work out of the window just like that. 
I had my diet coke and if I got hungry Ivy said that I could eat whatever I wanted, and I wanted cucumber. With pepper. They had those.
Today, I had much free time so I was just sitting at one of the tables and doing my homework while scrolling through Tumblr and eating freshly peeled cucumber with some seasoning on top. I was thriving. I was almost happy. It seemed impossible.
The door opened. A man walked in. He was dressed in black from head to toe and what stood out the most was his blue hair with grown out roots. He walked like he owned the building and everyone in it. I immediately stood up, while he was pulling out his chair, fixing my uniform. I let him read through the menu for a couple of seconds and then decided to approach.
"What would you like to order?" I smiled. I was nice. I am always nice. Why hasn't he looked at me yet? Why is he ignoring my presence? His head was bowed down until he raised it and I was met with black pools that stared at me, or rather through me. I felt dizzy and it wasn't the diet.
"Surprise me," he cocked his head, "I would love to see what you liberals like to eat the most. Maybe it'll make me change my political views."
"Al..right," I dragged on, "Is that all?"
"Yes," he replied.
"Everything will be done in a minute." I wanted to get away from him, as soon as possible. He was probably some Trump obsessed republican who's most likely to tell me to make him a sandwich. Which I am practically doing right now. But I couldn't deny it - He had a beautiful face. I wouldn't consider him that attractive if it weren't for his dead, piercing eyes that silently commanded you to obey every one of his rules. 
The food was ready. I had a feeling I would fall on my face next time I locked my eyes with his, which wasn't good. I didn't even know his name! Rachel, one of the cooks, handed me the best steak they had, house's special, "Who is it for?"
I didn't dare look at him. "The one with the blue hair. Just please don't stare. He's creeping me out."
Her eyes went wide, "That's Kai Anderson."
I looked at her blandly. The name didn't mean anything to me.
"You seriously need to watch more television."
"I'm fine, thanks. And if he's some menatlly deranged politician, then I'm not really missing out."
All the politics drained me, and don't get me wrong, I loved to be informed, but when I had to argue with someone about basic human rights, I'd rather not know anything.
I walked over to his table, and put the food on it. "I hope you're not vegan. Either way, enjoy your food." I kept my eyes everywhere, just not on him. He was so unsettling. I had to get away.
"I certainly will," he said and I walked away without a second glance. Jesus Christ, his mere presence was intense.
My shift ended in half an hour and that's when the restaurant was supposed to close. Ivy left early because of some family emergency, so she asked me to close and lock everything for her. I changed into my regular clothes—denim skirt and a white button down with my favorite black sweater, docs and a pair of knee socks. I untangled my hair and tried to brush it out with my fingers.
The tables were empty. Well, mostly. So-called Kai Anderson was still here, not even eating, just looking at some papers and flipping them over, for a while now.
I needed some extra balls to approach him and ask him to leave. Why did I accept to be the last one here? I could've been home by now, sleeping or watching a sitcom, but instead I'm stuck in this building with the strangest and the scariest man I've ever met. But then again, If I were home, my mother would be screaming at me. So I guess it's a win? Also I had to thank Kai for occupying my mind and not letting me think about food. I seriously needed to go to bed before I ended up eating something. Or worse- binging. I think I had less than 200 calories today which is a sign that I am slowly approaching danger zone. It isn't a diet anymore. I can't eat normally. I thought I could go back, but I guess my body won't let me. Or was it my mind?
"Miss?" Someone waved before my eyes.
"Yes? Sorry." Kai was standing beside the table that I occupied. 
"Are you closing soon?"
Should I lie? But then again, he isn't stupid. "Yes. Do you want to pay?"
"Oh no. I already did. I just wondered what occupied your mind that much." He had no idea.
"Nothing much. Just tired I guess. Can't seem to balance school and work."
"Ah. You see," he sat across me, "I don't believe you."
"Okay? I didn't try to be persuasive."
He smirked. Dear God, why was he so creepy but so hot at the same time?
"I still want to know what made you zone out for that long." Has he been staring at me the whole time?
"That's creepy. I don't even know you."
"What's that got to do with anything? I just asked you to tell me what's been botherung you. You looked fucking stressed."
"It really doesn't matter." I just wanted him to leave. 
"Wait. Here, I'll give you..." he reached into his  back pocket, "Fifty bucks if you tell me."
My lips curved. Come on, you can't blame me. Extra cash at my age isn't something you just don't accept.
"Ah! I knew it," he smiled, "Come on, doll, speak."
"It isn't anything interesting. My mom is just being a bitch, nothing unusual." I gave him the least I could and snatched the cash from his hand.
"She isn't letting you sleep over at your boyfriend's or something?" He laughed like I had the dumbest reason for not liking my mother.
"Not really. She just...Wants too much, I guess? And I'm not able to give her that." It felt weird saying that out loud. I think I never said it.
He stared at me for a second.
"I want to show you a trick." He put his right hand on the table. "Don't worry. It's something me and my older brother always used to do when we were little."
He reached with his pinky finger over to my hand. We locked fingers like we were making a pinky promise. 
"This is weird. And please hurry. My shift ends in fifteen minutes." 
"We have enough time. Okay, listen. Pinky power. Once the skin contact is made, no lies can be told and whatever we say, stays between us," he narrowed his black eyes, "Trust me, if you lie, I will know. Ready?"
When did I agree to this? Well, fuck it, I'll do it anyway.
"Do you love your family?" He asked, his expression serious.
"Yes." His mouth twitched.
"Do you like your family?"
"Absolutely not." I shook my head.
"Why is that?" 
How do I explain this to him without sounding like a total maniac? "My father is weak, he doesn't know how to stand up for himself. And my mother screams at me for merely existing. Her favorite hobby is emotionally draining me, then pulling my hair or slapping me because she feels like it. She regrets having me. I think she wants me to kill myself. It would be easier to have a dead daughter." My mind went blank. I felt nothing in that moment. Whatever he asked, I was going to tell him.
"Did you ever try to kill yourself?," he asked with a flat voice.
I thought for a second. Should I tell him the whole truth? He said he's going to know if I lie, but that doesn't mean...
"Don't think too much." His eyes went dark while I was literally choking under pressure of his gaze.
"No. I was never suicidal. I like living. But I..." words were stuck in my throat, "I...Sometimes, she would starve me. Saying I didn't deserve it. I had no money to buy something to eat. So I made a game out of it. I developed a disorder. It was the only thing I had some control over. I started it out of spite, but now it's real. It's worse than ever. But I don't want to stop."
His expression never changed. Not once. "Do you hate your mother for that?"
"You have no idea."
"I think I do have some idea about hating one of your parents. So, from experience, I need to ask you one more question."
I nodded. "Have you ever dreamt about killing her?"
I wanted to pull back from him, but his hand wouldn't let me. He pulled me even closer. "We can't break the contact," he gritted through his teeth.
"I know, I know, I'm sorry," I exhaled, "Yes. And no."
"Elaborate." 
The restuarant was silent. I couldn't even hear the sound of cars outside. Lights were practically out. 
"I...I wanted her dead. But I don't think I would be able to do it. I had a," I inhaled, "A fantasy about someone killing her while I watched. It's so fucked up, but I just couldn't help it. It brought me relief that she was gone and someone cared enough to get rid of her for me." 
I was scared to look at him. He was going to call the mental ward and lock me there. I was fucked. Why did I tell him all of that? 
I looked up.
He was smiling. It wasn't a sympathetic smile, or a sad smile, or anything similar to that. He was grinning like a maniac. He released my hand and I realized my eyes were filled with tears. I blinked them away. 
He shook his head with closed eyes, "You're perfect. Perfect."
My voice was low, weak. "What? How could you think that after what I just told you?"
"Don't ask too many questions. I have a solution for you because I know you're destined for greater things. Tell me, do you wish to never be under your mother's thumb again?"
"I mean, yes? That's going to be when I turn eighteen, so I have to be patient."
He laughed. "Oh, no, baby, no. She's never going to let you go. She'll suffocate you until there is nothing left but a shell. No matter the age or what the law says, you'll always be controlled. While she's alive, at least."
"What are you saying?"
"Do you want my help? Do you wish to be finally free?"
This was so fucked up. I never met this man in my life. Why was he offering me help?
"What's in it for you?"
He cocked his head, "I get to keep you by my side."
My mouth was dry. I was scared, but...excited. Thrill rushed down my body as this psychopath was staring at me, offering me a sick escape. I was supposed to say no. I was supposed to save my soul.
"Yes."
"Yes, what?"
"I want your help."
He looked so happy, it made me happy.
"Good. Then, we're leaving now." I was hypnotized by him. I just nodded, not asking where or why, my mother taught me I shouldn't get in the cars with strangers, especially men, but my mother was also the reason for many of my problems. I'll do something that'll piss her off.
I got into Kai's car and shut the door. I was okay with the fact that he might end up killing me.
He said nothing for the most of the ride, but I noticed him glancing over at my skirt that rose up to my thighs. I didn't bother pulling it down. I mean, I wore mini skirts for a reason, right?
I pretended not to notice as I looked at my reflection in the closed window. Hollow cheeks, red lipstick, pale face. I was obsessed. I always wanted to look like a corpse with make up. My face was perfect, lipstick untouched, mascara a little smudged, dark circles under my eyes from sleepless nights. 
"You know you could eat a burger." I looked at him. I almost wanted to hug him. His words made me feel proud, like I achieved something big. And I guess I did.
"Really? Do you know that you're the first person ever to tell me that?" I felt weird happiness in my chest. 
"Well, yeah. Why do you look so surprised? I didn't mean it as a compliment. You have a problem. I'm not even sure it's supposed to be a compliment." He frowned, not taking his eyes off the road.
"It doesn't matter if it's supposed to be a compliment or not. Thank you for saying it." I didn't give two fucks if he thought I was some anorexic lunatic that needed years of therapy. I was happy. And he wasn't my parent or my guardian to tell me what to do.
"Just think about it. What's the point of being so skinny? It's not even attractive."
"The point is in being clean. I don't want to see a pound of fat on my body. It's disgusting. And I am to do with my body as I please. I don't give a fuck if someone likes to eat like a fucking pig because It's not my body, and certainly not my problem." I was so angry. Who the fuck he thought he was?
"Just saying. You look sick. And I mean really, really sick."
"I am aware. Like I'm also aware that I'm fucked in the head. And that's the reason for all of this," I gestured over my figure. 
I could feel his anger. He didn't like that I disagreed with him and stood up for myself, even if I was wrong.
"We're here." He suddenly said, getting out of the car. I followed him into the house I guessed was his. The whole neighborhood was silent. Lights were off everywhere. 
We got into his house and I didn't even got to see it clearly because he practically dragged me into his basement and started changing. He put on a black leather coat while looking for something. His phone? He called someone.
"I'm expecting you'll be here in five? Well don't try to make up excuses. This is a perfect opportunity. I don't care— No, drag yourself and your pathetic wife here." He called two more people and I just stood in the middle of the room staring at him. 
"What's your adress?" Was he really doing that now? "You know what, never mind. I found it." I wasn't going to ask him how. He looked like the person who instead of Instagram browsed dark web. 
"Okay, let's go. They're here." I had to ask him because he said nothing about it. I had to be sure.
"Why are we going to my house?"
Beat. A moment. "To kill your mother, of course."
There were other people with us, but I couldn't see their faces because of the creepy clown masks. Kai had one too. I felt like I was drugged. I didn't know what happened to me. I suppose I had enough. I know Kai is not the answer for my problems, at least not all of them. He's going to get rid of her and then what? No. Stop thinking. 
I listened to my brain this time. It was late. My parents were probably asleep. Probably in separate beds. It's going to be easier for Kai and the others to do the job. They kept their mouths shut and I didn't blame them. I still wasn't sure if I was part of this sick cult or whatever it was. I read enough about them to recognize a cult leader when I see one. 
The car suddenly stopped. We were in front of my house.
"This played out so good, little lamb. I knew you were perfect." Kai's voice was muffled under that mask and his words made my heart flutter. He was so sick. "Don't just stand there, baby. Be a good host. Invite us in. Come on," he gestured with one gloved hand towards my house. I felt everyone's eyes on me as I turned my back and started walking towards the door. What did he mean by this playing out good? Did he plan this before? It certainly did not matter.
We got in, doors creaking, but not enough to wake anyone up. My father was downstairs, in the guestroom, but my Satanic mother was in their bedroom. I went first, up the stairs, one by one, they followed me, Kai first, then the rest of them. 
I showed them the doors. 
Kai got in and they followed him. I shut the door behind me. I felt like I was seeing things through someone else's eyes. I didn't feel guilt and I wasn't regretting my decision. I remember everything through a coat of blur. Knives, a lot of them. They killed her in her sleep. Stabbed her too many times, I lost count. Sheets were soaked with red and the room started smelling like iron too. Kai used her blood to draw some sign on the wall that was facing the bed. It looked like a smiley face, but I wasn't sure. The job was done. I was free. I was free of any charges, since I wasn't home when it happened. I was going to sleep in my bed and wake up in the morning, shocked, petrified, screaming for help, calling the police, my father is going to be terrified too, but relieved. He would never admit it thought. 
We were in the car again. Then in front of Kai's house. "Leave. I want some time alone with our newest member."
"Kai, no. You can't drag her into this. She's just a child—" A feminine voice scorned him under her mask.
"Don't tell me what to do, Winter. Now leave," he raised his voice and I flinched. "We have much to talk about." He took off his mask and smiled knowingly at me. I wasn't scared of him anymore, though I knew I should be. He killed my mother for Christ's sake! 
We went into his basement again. The lights were already on and I watched him as he took off his mask and black coat. His shirt was soaked with my mother's blood. 
"What did you want to talk about?" I cocked my head.
"You were so good. I knew you could do it. Next time, maybe you'll even be the one holding the knife. You didn't even flinch!" He paced through the room and laughed, like he was talking to himself.
"You didn't do this for me, did you?"
He stopped, then looked at me, "I already told you. This played out perfectly. And I've been watching for quite some time now," his eyes darkened "When I found out that the woman who's been talking shit about me over her social media had a daughter, I had to see if she was as bitchy as her mother." Oh, so he did this to save his reputation. Of course.
"And," I swallowed, "Is she?"
He didn't answer me. Instead he marched to the other side of the room and pushed me against the wall, slamming his lips on mine. I was out of breath, not being able to process everything. Oh my god, he was kissing me! This insane, sick in the head, narcissistic, 30-something, psychopath was kissing me and I opened my mouth to him like the whore I was. I wanted him to touch me. No, I needed his blood stained hands on me right now. 
I pulled one of his hands and put it on my chest as his tongue continued to explore my mouth. He took off my sweater and shirt. I was left in a black bra and skirt.
"Aren't you scared of being arrested for fucking a minor?"
"I commited far more monstrous crimes than fucking a seventeen year old and you know it, " he breathed into my mouth. Red lipstick was smudged over his lips. His hand that was on my chest slipped under my skirt and found my panties. 
"You know it," his fingers entered me with ease, "And yet, you're still so fucking wet for me." My mouth fell open as he buried his fingers deeper if that was even possible. I wasn't a virgin, but then again, I've never been with a man. I took my own virginity so that I didn't have to bother. 
"Kai—" I breathed. I needed more.
He sat on one of the chairs beside the circular table and pulled me onto his lap, his thigh between my legs. My clit was aching for some king of friction so I started rubbing myself against the rough fabric of his jeans. 
"Aren't you desperate?" He pushed me on the floor, between his legs, he pulled out his belt and unzipped his pants. His intentions were clear and I was happy to oblige, but I had to touch myself or I'd go insane. I started stroking his already hard dick and rubbing my clit at the same time. 
He noticed. And he wasn't happy about it. "I thought you were going to be patient. But I guess not." He took his belt and with one move he tied my hands behind my back while I was still kneeling in front of him.
"Please, I just need to—"
"Yes, yes, I know, but you have to deserve it. Am I right?"
I nodded hesitantly and he scooped up my hair in his fist and used it to pull my head down. I took him into my mouth as the wetness and ache grew between my legs. 
Kai continued to pull my head down until his tip hit the back of my throat and I gagged. He chuckled.
My eyes teared up as I sucked his dick like my life depended on it.
He grunted and raised his hips, so I knew he was close. And I knew he was going to either come in my mouth or...
He pulled out and finished on my tits, painting my chest with his cum. 
"You were so good," he said with his head tilted back and eyes closed. He let my hair fall down my back and over my face. Kai dressed and got up, then pulled me with him, still tied.
He slammed me on the desk and I was able to just lay there and let him do whatever he wanted to me. Not that I minded.
"I feel like I'm going to break you," he said as he traced my very visible ribs with the tips of his fingers. "Break every bone in your body." 
I could feel my stomach sinking in and his words made me even a bigger mess than I already was. "Do it, please, please," I cried out as my hips rose towards him. 
"Since you asked so nicely...And the skirt stays on. Do you know how much willpower it took me not to bury my hand under your skirt and make you beg for more while we were driving?" He pulled my skirt up and didn't even bother to take off the panties, he just ripped them. He towered over me as I layed on his table, feeling the cool air on my swollen clit. 
Kai's fingers went over my aching pussy and my back arched towards his touch. He did nothing for a split second and then came the first slap. I yelped as the burning spread between my legs, but I didn't tell him to stop. He slapped me even harder and I cried out, most ungodly sounds coming from my mouth.
"Don't worry, you can scream as loud as you'd like."
He slapped my dripping cunt once more and after that I was sure I was going to feel his hands on me days after. He didn't wait for me to recover from his brutality, instead he buried two fingers inside me and started scissoring, wanting to spread me even wider. I threw my head back as he added one more. He buried them knuckle deep inside me and began curling them.
"I feel like you're a big girl. You can take one more." He didn't wait for my agreement. His four fingers were inside, making my pussy burn with pleasure. I wasn't able to form words. He spat on me and started massaging my clit while almost his whole hand was thrusting in and out of me. I felt pressure deep in my lower stomach and started panting and moaning for him to continue, but he did exactly the opposite. 
My cunt was left empty without his fingers and I could almost cry. I just needed a bit more.
"Don't look so upset. I'm not finished with you." 
Kai untied me and took his belt. He spread my legs as wide as he could and started spanking my pussy with it. I screamed more in pain than surprise, "Kai, no, stop, please stop-"
The pain was unbearable, but it was just enough  for my clit to start pulsing more and that pressure in my belly to grow. I screamed in pain as he continued to hit me with no mercy. I could feel my walls clenching and my back arched as I came undone. Orgasm hit me and I came down from my high, but Kai didn't stop. 
He started rubbing my abused cunt, overstimulating it. He was deaf to my begging and crying. It was too much. There was no pleasure anymore, just pure pain, but he continued to massage it and after a couple of minutes I was shaking with another orgasm. I knew I was too sensitive, but when I tried to close my legs, he stopped me. Then I noticed his rock hard dick under his jeans and my heart dropped. I was going to pass out. He was going to use me, not caring for my pleasure anymore.
"Just hold still a little more, doll." He pulled his dick out and slammed himself inside me, making my eyes roll to the back of my head. Everything hurt, but he didn't care. His thrusts were fast and rough, I couldn't keep up. I could feel his orgasm building and he had no intention of pulling out. Kai continued to slam into me until he reached his peak. He filled me with his seed and when he finally pulled out I could feel it dripping from my pussy.
Kai helped me get up and as he was untying his belt, his hot breath was on my neck. "Welcome to the cult, baby."
266 notes · View notes
scarisd3ad · 9 months ago
Text
In a world of boys, he’s a gentleman
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
pairing - steve harrington x fem!reader
summary - "But if I'm all dressed up, they might as well be looking at us and if they call me a slut, you know it might be worth it for once, and if I'm gonna be drunk might as well be drunk in love."
(A/N) - happy kind of late Valentine's Day lol, but here is a cute little fic based off of my favorite 1989 tv vault track.
Warnings - slut shaming, cursing, drinking
Masterlist
Tumblr media
"Are you sure? I know you don't really like these kinds of things anymore," I say with a sigh. Steve and I are parked out in front of some random junior's house. Ever since Steve had graduated this May, he wasn't really in the party scene anymore. It might have been just because he was always busy working, or with the kids though, or maybe he wanted to leave his high school self behind. I was a year younger than Steve so I still being in high school wanted to party my senior year away before subsequently going to college next August.
I wanted him here for some type of protection from the men who frequented these parties. When I didn't have someone, I could claim as my 'boyfriend' they'd have their grimy little hands all over me. Luckily, this time I had my actual boyfriend. "it's fine," he whispers, grabbing my hand and giving it a little squeeze before removing the keys from the ignition and getting out of the car.
As we walk up to the front door, I can feel the chill in the air seeping through the thin fabric of the dress I'm wearing. The dress, which I thought would be perfect for the occasion, now seems like a poor choice, given the unforgiving October winds. I shiver uncontrollably as a strong gust of wind blows past us, sending my hair flying in all directions. The coldness of the wind is so biting that I almost regret leaving the house without a jacket.
Steve reaches out and grabs my hand as he pushes the front door open. As we approached the house, the booming sound of music and the constant buzz of voices could be heard from the outside. I could feel the beat of the music reverberating through my body as I made my way to the door. However, as soon as the door opened, the volume seemed to increase tenfold, making it difficult to hear anything else. The house was alive with energy, pulsing with the rhythm of the music and the excitement of the people inside.
The house seemed to be getting more and more crowded as we made our way further into the house. As we ventured deeper into the house, the once spacious and airy rooms gradually became cramped and stuffy. The air was thick with the scent of cheap booze, sex, and teenage sweat.
Although Steve had been gone from the hallways of Hawkins High for almost an entire semester Everyone still fawned over Steve Harrington the same way they had been for the past four years. sophomore girls, smile and wave as they send him flirty winks that are paired with a "hii Steve" which makes me roll my eyes each time, even freshman girls bat their eyelashes at him and wave shyly. god, sometimes I wished my boyfriend wasn't as popular as he was.
"Wasn't she with Eddie Munson last weekend?" I hear one girl ask as Steve and I pass by them. Luckily or unluckily, Steve stops to talk to one of his old basketball friends so I can hear the rest of their conversation. "No, no, that was the weekend before that last weekend she was with…what's his name fuck Sam…Samuel gives" The other girl, a brunette I recognized as a junior who was in p.e with me, says. The other one was a blonde that I don't particularly recognize but I knew I'd probably seen her around at least once laugh a big belly laugh before scoffing "fucking slut, didn't realize Steve was into those types of girls, especially after Nancy wheeler" it hurt but 'slut' was something most girls including me have been called more than once.
When I'm using my male friends as human shields at parties, I never thought about how other girls would think about me. It's not like I really cared anyway (I did). "Dresses like one too, who even thinks of wearing something like that" I looked down at my dress, maybe it was a little over the top, but there were other girls here dressed similarly in tiny dresses that barely covered their asses, most were shorter than mine. So why was I getting judged for my dress when Heather Blake was in the tiniest red dress I've ever seen as she was grinding up against Daren Russel?
"When I was getting dressed earlier, I thought the dress looked cute. It was smaller than what I usually wear, and I was a bit scared that I might draw more attention to myself than I'd like. But I thought, "if I'm all dressed up, they might as well be looking at us". But now, after being called a slut, I was rethinking that mindset. "Hey Stevie, I'm gonna go get a drink kay?" he nods. "Yeah hon, can you get me a beer?" I hum quietly as I nod before walking off towards the kitchen.
There are a few girls, freshmen, who are taking shot after shot. Their boyfriends must have been seniors because normally freshmen aren't invited to parties like this. "Hey, can I have some of that?" I ask. All three girls are hammered, slurring out their words and stumbling around, "Y-yeahhh girl hereeee!" one shouts over the music as she hands me a prefilled disposable shot glass. The liquid inside is clear, making me assume it's vodka. I might as well be drunk if I was going to be overthinking those girls' conversation the entire night. I lean my head back as I take the shot, letting it burn down the back of my throat.
The three girls are giggling as the middle one, who is way smaller than me in height and weight, boldy downs two shots in a row before shouting "Wooooo!!!" which makes me internally cringe for her. "Hey, can I have another?"
7 shots in and I'm drunk as a motherfucker. The three girls had since gone, mumbling a quiet excuse about how all three of their mothers were going to be pissed in. They didn't get the littlest sobered up fast. So that left me with about half a bottle of vodka.
"Hey baby, thought you were bringing me a beer" Two familiar arms wrap around my torso which makes me drunkenly smile and turn around in his arms. "I wa-wasss," I slurred as I leaned my head against his shoulder, "but got distr-distracted," I said with a giggle. Steve sighs softly as he takes my face in his hands "You're drunk honey" I roll my eyes playfully giggling a quiet "duhhh" his thumb caresses my cheek as his eyes fall behind me at the empty shot glasses and now about quarter-filled vodka bottle. "Shit, honey, how much was in that bottle? " I shrugged as I watched the two girls who had been talking about me earlier walk into the kitchen, both giggling as they looked me up and down.
I frown as I look up into his big brown eyes, which are filled with concern. "Am I a slut?" I whispered softly. Despite my best efforts to not let those girls' words get to me; they had been unknowingly eating away at me all night. "What? who…who told you that? Why the fu-" I shrug as my bottom lip pops out in a pout. "Honey, you're not a slut. And if you were, I wouldn't care because as long as you're my girl, I'll be the happiest man alive. " If I'm gonna be drunk, might as well be drunk in love.
126 notes · View notes
b0tster · 1 year ago
Note
ever since coming out, i’ve had a very difficult time inserting myself into the lgbt community, specifically the trans community. i don’t know why; i’ve just never felt like i belong in any specific place, like i’m not good enough or look “proper” enough to take part. i’m not sure if that’s rooted in how isolated i was a kid and teenager just trying to to sort through this stuff. but i can’t be that way any more, and i guess in seeking to view myself as more “valid” i’ve gone through a lot of personal changes. and despite my internalized feelings towards myself from my childhood and parents and society at the time, i’ve come to love and accept myself for the project that i am.
i guess i just wanted to get that out since we’re all doing this.
to the anon, i just want to say: i was in a similar situation for years and years. i first started questioning myself when i was a child. it got worse as i got older. eventually i learned to just shove it down and ignore it. as i got older though, and grew more autonomous, and grew as a person, i realized that those feelings never went away. and from 19-25, i just kept crushing them down, but every time took more and more out of me.
i came out to my sister in tears at like 12:30am in the office of my workplace. her response? “yeah no that checks out for you.”
i’ve never been more relieved or angry, or laughed so hard, at a response, but that was the push over the edge i needed. and i don’t want you to think any of us are directly telling you that you are trans, you should transition, blah blah blah.
i have a lot of regrets about how i handled my transition. i wish i had access to more information in the 90s and 00s. i wish i had people like those that are all over this website, encouraging me to look inside myself to see what was going on. i wish i had had all of you incredible people to talk to. i spent the better part of 26 years denying who i was because i was afraid of what it might mean, and because i didn’t have any base of knowledge to understand any of my feelings. i felt alone and isolated, in that tiny ass rural town in virginia. it wasn’t until i got to college that i really saw people like me, and even then i was too intimidated, too afraid to approach or talk to them.
anon, my only real advice to you would just be to talk. find people to talk to. talk to yourself if you have to. if you think they’re steps you want to take? give them a shot. you can always stop if it doesn’t jive with you.
i started transitioning at 28. i lost my hrt a year and a half later. i just got it back a month ago, and now at 31, i’m back at square one.
my biggest regret will always be, that i didn’t give myself the chance to be myself sooner. don’t rob yourself of that chance, anon, by hiding your light under a bushel. we’ll all be around. talk to us. talk to everyone you can, and you’ll learn a little more about yourself each time. i just wish someone had told me that sooner.
love all of you guys. 💜. thank you for giving me a place to put this, botster, and thank you anon and botster for giving me an excuse to share my story.
Thank you so much for your kind words. I don't even know how to properly respond to this 🥺
I know its not fully directed at me though. But this shows how important it is to be out and proud for those who are willing.
Having a platform where people feel safe enough to ask these questions is so important.
169 notes · View notes
stillsaltyaboutmcr · 1 year ago
Text
If only you had stayed- J.S and B.B
Hi guys! I had a cute little idea and wanted to try to write it. This will only be one part so it’ll be a LONG one. Sorry not sorry.
You met Jake the summer he got into Top Gun. It was a whirlwind romance that ended as quickly as it begun. You didn’t think anything of it until two pink lines appeared and he was suddenly hard to contact. Now, 7 years have gone by and you’re blessed with a little girl that unfortunately reminds you too much of her dad. Somewhere in those seven years, you met Bradley who stepped in to help without a word. Now you’re engaged and happy living your life as a family, until Brad gets a call that relocates you all to where it began.
Warnings: Cussing, pregnancy and childbirth, inaccurate storyline of Peggy and the Hard Deck, some minor sexual content
Tumblr media
It was hot as the summer sun came into the Hard Deck that afternoon as you prepped to serve the new incoming pilots. Penny had informed you that a new group of young and dumb Top Gun students came in today and that it was going to be a full house. You had come in early that day to stock the bar and make sure everything was in working order and clean. You didn’t wanna get caught with your pants down on a night as busy as this.
Throughout the evening, men and women in uniforms piled in and out, shuffling in new faces constantly. Drink after drink, flirt after flirt, you were ready to go home. You were used to this kind of behavior since you began going to college out here, but tonight’s patrons were a different breed. They made you regret wearing your favorite top to your shift today.
One in particular stood out to you though. You didn’t know if it was his cocky ego or the way he actually left you alone when you spoke up. He had sauntered into the bar with that staple Top Gun wannabe smirk. He came up to the bar and leaned on it, smiling at you when you asked him what he wanted to drink. He took a minute as his posture shifted, and as you were about to go serve someone who knew what to order he spoke up.
“I’ll take you if you’re on the menu.”
“Very funny, as if I haven’t heard that one before.” You went to ring the bell for what you swore was the 35th time tonight when he spoke up again.
“I’m sorry, can I just get a Modelo? That went worse than I was expecting.” You paused as your hand came into contact with the rope. You looked him over as you contemplated how to move next. He sighed as you let go and reached into the cooler behind the bar. You cracked the top off as slid it to him as you walked off without another word. You had spared him.
He kept appearing throughout the night saying things like “I know you’re not on the menu.” or “Modelo please?” almost like he was afraid of you. The worst part? You liked it.
Most of these pilots either didn’t care or thought you were stuck up, but this one? He was scared of you and your bell. It was amusing to you. “What’s your name?” You finally asked him when he came up to close his tab.
“Jake, Jake Seresin.”
“Well Seresin, I wish you good luck.” You walked off as you handed him his receipt. Fate was in your favor that day when he decided to flip it over to leave his number to see yours already etched on there with a note.
‘My next day off is Tuesday. Dinner at 5?’
Jake’s felt butterflies in his chest as he read that. He put the number in his phone then took the pen to reply.
‘Deal, I’ll pick you up at 4:30.’
He walked out feeling like a million bucks. He had scored a gorgeous girl that liked him despite his really shitty pickup line.
Tuesday came around and you had been texting about it since the night of his entrance. He did as he said and pulled in your driveway at 4:30 with flowers in hand. You were impressed to say the least.
Your summer consisted of little rendezvous and dinner dates. From beach picnics to mini golf, you guys did it all. But, all those dates didn’t come alone, there were plenty of hookups mixed in there amongst it all. You and Jake were having a summer fling that you had only seen in movies.
You attended his graduation from Top Gun and congratulated him properly when he won the title himself. After that, he disappeared into thin air. No replies, couldn’t find him on any social media. It’s like he never existed.
Your life went on as your final year at college approached in the fall, but you had noticed some changes to yourself. Some weight gain, no period for the month of august, and more. It worried you for a multitude of reasons, so you had Penny get you a test.
Standing in the bathroom at the Hard Deck after close with Penny, anxiously awaiting to see what would happen, you couldn’t stop thinking about Jake. With no contact and a possible child, what were you gonna do?
Penny broke you from your thoughts when she turned the test over and there it was. Two pink lines.
You caught the Seresin parasite.
The next nine months were mostly you and Penny making the most of your situation. She took it way easy on you when it came to work and she actually took you in to live with her and her daughter.
The childbirth wasn’t easy, but you told Penny you wanted her there since your parents hadn’t talked to you in years. She was a great support for you, and you couldn’t have done it without her.
But that was 7 years ago.
Now you lived with your beautiful daughter, Leanna and fiancé, Bradley in Pensacola, Florida. You had met Bradley when Leanna was 3 when he came through Top Gun. You were weary of his kindness and sincerity when he came to the bar after what happened the last time you put yourself out there. Bradley pursued and proved to you he was different. Leanna grew to adore him and Bradley fit in perfectly to your little family. After 4 years together, you had moved from San Diego to Pensacola and gotten engaged. Everything was working in your favor.
Wedding plans were active and ongoing and you had secured a work from home job coding medical records for the sick call on base. Your daughter was beautiful and doing well in school and life seemed to be perfect. The only issue being the constant reminder of the little blonde haired girl you called yours.
Her arrogance and smooth talking when trying to get herself out of trouble only reminded you daily of her dad. The way she grew into her facial features that resembled Jake so closely and the way her eyes lit up when Bradley spoke about flying only saddened you. It shouldn’t have considering the wonderful life you have, but you felt horrible that she has no idea who her father is. You had lied to her all these years and told her that while Bradley isn’t her biological dad, he will be her paternal figure.
You were busy making dinner when Bradley walked in the door on the phone with Leanna in hand from school. It was career day at her school and Bradley quickly jumped at the chance to take a day off work and spend time with her.
“Yes I know sir, but what about my house here? Will they keep this on hold or is this a permanent relocation?”
Your ears perked up. Relocation?
“Really? You should’ve started with that. I understand, we will pack and be on our way. I will send my information for you to book our flights and plan our stay. Thank you for the opportunity sir.”
Bradley hung up as he entered the kitchen, “What was that all about?” You turned from the stove to face him as Leanna ran up to give you her daily after school hug.
“We’re going to San Diego. I’ve been asked to participate in a top secret mission there at Top Gun.”
“Wait- what? We?” You couldn’t go back there, not with the risk of seeing Jake again. You couldn’t afford it.
“We leave in a couple of days so I’m off work so we can pack what we need for while we’re there. The military is giving us a house to stay in for the time being but we’ll have this one to come back to when we’re done.”
“We?” You were still reveling in the fact that Jake might be there. Bradley’s words started to fade out as the panic set in. You couldn’t see him, not now! What if he saw Leanna? What if he wanted you back after seeing his mistake of leaving his daughter behind? What if you wanted him back despite having the perfect father and husband right in front of you?
“Hey? Baby?” Bradley was now right in front of you, hands on your arms and a concerning look on his face.
“Sorry, it’s just been so long since I’ve been out there. What about Leanna? Her schoolwork?”
“I’ve already spoken to her teacher when I got the email this morning about the assignment. They said they will email us all the homework and lesson plans so we can homeschool her while we’re away. It’s gonna be okay love.” Bradley placed a kiss on your forehead before stepping around you and taking over your cooking.
“Mom! Can you help me with a school project? I would ask Brad but he isn’t very crafty.” She giggled as Bradley shouted a ‘hey!’ from behind you.
“Sure, what’s it about?”
You sat at the table helping her put together a poster board on different types of fighter jets and what they’re used for. Her teacher assigned them to give presentations on the careers of the parents they brought in today. You would’ve been hurt she didn’t choose you if you didn’t have such a boring profession. The kids her age in her class are much more interested in pilots than medical coders. How are you supposed to entertain a bunch of 7 and 8 year olds about coding rules and when to use I10 for hypertension and when to not use it when the patient also has kidney failure which makes you need to use a combo code? They would fall asleep right then and there.
Bradley’s job was exciting and dangerous, something kids that age love to hear about and dream about doing. The only downside are these assignments which move your family far away from where you’ve put down roots.
The days leading up to San Diego were long and painful for you. Planning Leanna’s bags and schoolwork along with your own and making sure the house was clean and that were no groceries that were going to spoil had you in over your head. Luckily, Bradley saw the stress and quickly jumped in to help make sure everything was in order.
Before you knew it, you and Bradley were sat right where you met, at the Hard Deck.
“It hasn’t changed a bit has it?” You looked around as Bradley was in a game of pool with a fellow pilot on the mission named Payback. Another pilot, Fanboy, was at the bar getting a round of drinks for everyone.
“No, it feels like just yesterday I was here trying to prove to you just how honest I was. You were so stubborn it made me want to pull my hair out.” You both laughed as a hand rested on your shoulder. Turning around you were met with a woman around your height, in uniform like everyone else.
“You must be the future Mrs. Rooster. I’m Phoenix or Natasha, whatever you feel like calling me.” You we’re honestly relived to not be the only female in this group of testosterone.
“I’m Y/N, and yes! The wedding is in a couple of months. I’m really happy there’s another girl here, it was feeling too egotistical in here for me.” She laughed at you as Fanboy returned with the drinks. You grabbed one of the pool table along with everyone else.
The night was going great as more pilots came in and you put more faces to names. Bob was your favorite so far, he was sweet and different from the other pilots in the room. It was a pissing contest for the rest of them, even Phoenix hopped in a few times. Games of darts and pool kept the boys busy while you sat by Bob, just watching. All of the sudden, they all turned towards the door as two more pilots walked in, hoops and hollers coming from the crowd. You caught Bradley’s eye, but not long enough to sense his warning. You turned your head to the door to see two tall men, one darker skinned wearing a nameplate that read ‘Coyote’ and the other-no.
The other was who you feared would be here. You had to leave before Jake saw you. You apologetically looked at Bradley before dissapearing out the backdoor and joining Penny and Leanna, urging her that you had to go home.
“But mom! Just a little bit longer?” Leanna was pleading with you, earning sympathic looks from Penny. After some more convincing she finally agreed. “I just have to use the bathroom, Aunt Penny, can I use the one in there?”
“Sure honey, I’ll take you in. Just be quick.” Penny took your daughter in and you prayed Penny would stay out of Jake’s eyeline.
—-
Jake was enjoying a game of darts where he was winning against Coyote. He had been throwing jabs at Bradley all night, but bickering was their thing. After throwing the final dart and winning the third round of darts in a row, Jake excused himself.
He headed to the back of the bar to use the restroom and stood waiting for it to open up. He was about to say ‘fuck it’ and pee outside when the women’s door opened to reveal a little girl with eerily similar features to him. She smiled at him and said hello. “Hey. I don’t think you’re allowed in here. Where’s your mom?” He crouched down to her, not seeing an adult follow her out and come running to take her.
Little did he know, Penny was right around the corner talking to a regular, faced away from what was happening. “She’s right outside on the patio.”
“Why don’t I take you to her so you don’t get in trouble huh?”
“Okay!”
“Lead the way little one.” Jake took her hand as they walked through the bar together out to the back patio where she was leading him. As they got closer, he saw the familiar figure of a woman he once loved and the pieces clicked a bit too quickly for him to handle. He paused, making Leanna’s arm pull.
“Hey! Come on!” He was too busy staring at the back of her silhouette to hear Leanna’s complaints.
“Leanna! What are you doing?” Bradley’s voice is what snapped him out of his trance when he came running up to scoop her up in his arms and shoot Jake a look that would kill him if it could.
“Is she yours?” Jake almost seemed sad if it were true.
“Yes, what are you doing with my daughter?”
“Brad? I’m not your daughter! You just adopted me when you decided to marry my mom!” She was laughing at his statement, almost mocking him.
“She was in the back by the bathrooms when I found her. She told me her mom was outside so I was going to take her so she didn’t get hurt.” Jake’s voice was calmer than normal, almost solemn.
“Thank you, but please never do that again Jake. As much as I respect you, I don’t like anyone touching my kid.”
“Brad!”
“Leanna enough!” Her face showed shock, she had never heard Bradley raise his voice, so she buried her face in his neck and started weeping which cause Bradley to regret his temper. “If you excuse me, I have to take her and her mom home. I’ll see you at work tomorrow.”
He burst out the back doors with the crying girl in his arms. Jake watched as he talked to the woman he thought was someone he knew, and his suspicion was confirmed when you turned around and Jake caught a clear view of your face. He felt hurt at your panicked expression from whatever Bradley was telling you.
He had a daughter, and he was foolish enough to let you and her go.
You were dropping Bradley off at work before taking the day to run errands and get the house in order when you spotted Natasha. “Hey! Good to see you again Mrs. Rooster. I’m excited to get this one in the sky- I’m sorry who’s this?” She knelt down to Leanna, who was hand in hand with you.
“This is my daughter Leanna.” Before anymore conversation, Bradley gave you a kiss and ran off to the rest of the group.
“Hey girl, I’m Tasha. I’m a friend of your dad’s.” Leanna waved at her lazily, not quite awake enough this early in the morning. She tugged your hand, signaling she wanted up, so you boosted her onto your back in a piggyback style. She was far too big to hold on your bio anymore, she’s grown so much.
“Sorry, she’s not a morning person.” You laughed a little at the fact she’s now fast asleep on your shoulder.
“It’s alright. She’s got time to become one. Is she Bradley’s? Sorry for asking, I just-“
“She isn’t. I know you’re probably wondering why she doesn’t look like him. She’s from a previous relationship but Bradley is more a father to her than her bio dad. We’re really happy we met him.” You smiled in the distance at him, watching him as he called Natasha over.
“That’s my cue. Good to see you!” She ran off and they all disappeared into the building. You turned around to go back to your car when you almost ran into someone.
You started vomiting apologies when you saw none other than Seresin himself. “Oh-“
“Hey. Long time no see.” Although he was talking to you, his eyes were on your daughter. You had to get out of there.
“Sorry again.” You muttered it and tried to go around him, but he grabbed your arm and turned you back to him.
“Is she mine?” Your eyes widened at the boldness of his question.
“Jake-“
“Please. Is she mine?”
You set Leanna in the car before continuing your conversation. “It’s none of your business Jake.”
“If she’s mine, then it is my business. Please.” He was pleading with you, practically tearing up.
“She is. Can I leave now?” Jake’s eyes were fixated on the car door you put Leanna in.
“I’m sorry.” He looked at you now, and you had forgotten how bright his eyes were. “You’re as beautiful as the day I lost you.” Your breath hitched at his comment. You didn’t know how to respond.
“Jake you were the one that left. I was left alone to raise her until Bradley showed up.”
“You’re engaged?” He looked like he was going to cry.
“Yes, happily. Please leave so I can go home.” Your arms were crossed in front of you, as if a guard.
He stepped closer to you, studying your face as if he’d never see it again. “I want to talk to her.”
“She’s asleep Jake.”
“When she’s not. Please. I want to meet my daughter.”
“No Jake! She is more Bradley’s daughter than yours! You were the one who left! You are no father to-“
Before you knew it, Jake had captured you and put his lips on yours. Your whole body froze, eyes wide opened at the exchange. You had to leave now before anyone saw.
“Seresin!” You pushed him off of you. “What the hell?!”
“I don’t know what happened. I’m sorry.” He walked off into the building as you watched. What were you going to do.
Bradley wasn’t home yet and Leanna was down for a nap. You had a feeling she had caught something since being here with how much she’d been drowsy.
You were starting dinner when someone knocked on your door. You went to answer it thinking Bradley forgot his keys this morning, but it was Jake at the door. You quickly tried to shut the door but he stopped you, forcing himself in the door.
“You have to leave. I will call the cops.”
Although his face was sincere, you were scared of him. “I just want to see her. Please.”
“She’s still asleep Seresin. Go home. Now.”
“What do I have to do to make up for it?”
“For what?” His eyes were red and puffy, you could tell he’d been crying since your last interaction that morning.
“For leaving you. For leaving our daughter. What do I have to do to meet her? She’s beautiful.”
You sighed. You wished this day would never come and yet here you are. Leanna could come down the stairs at any moment, or even worse, Bradley could pull in the driveway. “Jake, you can’t meet her. You missed your chance.”
“What if I want a second chance. To be in her life, to be with you?” Jake’s tears had returned to his eyes now, and your heart broke at the sight.
“You don’t get a second chance.”
“Why not?” His voice was only a whisper. “I can’t change what I did but I will make it up to you. If only you’d let me.”
You looked at him and released a breath. “If only you’d stayed.”
You reached around him to hold the door open, but he shut it once again. “What are you-?” His lips let yours once again, and this time you couldn’t resist. He hands wrapped around your waist and yours foind home at the base of his hairline on his neck. You missed this feeling. While Bradley was amazing in bed, he lacked the longing and passion Jake had always given you. He hand guided you to your couch, where you straddled him as he began reaching under your shirt. He lifted it along with your bra and began making work of your breasts. You leaned your head back at the feeling, relishing in the pleasure. His mouth on one and his finger stimulating the other. You bit your lip to keep noise to a minimum. His mouth came back to yours as you heard a door open upstairs. Leanna was awake.
“Go, now!” Jake looked hurt as you shuffled him out the door before your daughter saw him.
“Y/N please-“
“Go!” You shut the door on him as Leanna appeared on the stairs. You were too close, and engaged! How could you have let this happen?
You were in love with Bradley and being married in less the 4 months.
But the feeling you got with Jake was unmatched. Your heart was ripped in two but you couldn’t risk losing the life you live with Bradley and Leanna.
Not for anyone.
Not even for Jake Seresin.
You had to leave him in San Diego. You had to leave a piece of you with him.
The mission went by just fine without any further interruptions. You had told Bradley about what happened and after some serious discussion and breakdown or two from you, everything had been smoothed out and you agreed to let Jake meet his daughter.
You both invited him over for dinner, and told Leanna about who he was and why he was coming over. She was confused and a bit hurt but she understood. She was even excited to meet her real dad.
When you opened the door for Jake, he came in and gave you a hug after shaking Bradley’s hand.
“Leanna!” You called her in to the living room and you watched as Jake’s eyes lit up at her.
“Hey kid, I’m your dad.”
246 notes · View notes
hymns-across-the-stars · 3 months ago
Note
"in another life" Mirage 🙂
Send "in another life" and my muse will say something they'd be doing in another lifetime.
---
It feels almost silly, bringing a bouquet to the grave of someone who's probably pretty well-hated right now. She can't even really blame them for that; a part of her wishes she could feel the same. But, of course, feelings like these aren't so easy to simply flip, to turn all affection to bitter resentment.
It's harder still when his blood is on her hands. And that's why she's here, really: guilt and regret and the still-beating throes of love.
Mirage kneels down and sets the flowers upon the grave. The wind stirs their petals, tearing off a few of the loose ones. She watches them drift away.
...she doesn't know why she bothers to start talking. It's not as if anyone can respond. But she does, quietly filling the silence.
"I guess regrets really are only for the living. Can't wish for anything else when you're just dust in the wind."
It's bitter, but there's something like a laugh in there—or maybe something that would be a sob, if she just could.
There's small pause before she picks one of the flowers back up, a pathetic looking daisy. She can't help but relate to it right now: half-wilted, missing most of its petals, and sadly turning its face to the earth like it has nothing left to live for.
Of course it doesn't. It's already dead. Just as he is.
Just as he was always meant to be.
"I know it couldn't have been easy for you. You cared about me; there's no way I didn't cross your mind before you made your choice. But maybe it didn't fucking occur to you that it's almost more insulting this way, knowing that I meant less to you than your principles."
That last sentence came out unbidden, so harsh and angry that it startles her a moment before her shoulders slump a little. She spins the daisy between her fingers.
"But that's not fair of me to say. It's just the kind of person you are—loyal to a fault to your ideals, putting responsibility over everything. It wouldn't be you otherwise. I shouldn't be mad. I shouldn't feel like I could've tried harder to convince you otherwise, to stay. That maybe, in another life..."
A petal, freshly torn off the daisy, flutters to the earth.
"...we could've just... continued going about our lives. Gone to college together or something."
Another petal falls.
"That pining was the worst thing we'd ever have to subject each other to."
Another.
"That neither of us were haunted by what we are or could have been, so that it couldn't have led you away."
Another.
"Or maybe even something that doesn't have to change how it ended. That maybe the first time I had the courage to tell you I love you wouldn't have been when I held a gun to your head, even if it had to be the last."
Another.
"Or crueler: that, in another life, I just would have never met you—or you didn't help me—and I wouldn't have to hurt like this."
She watches the last petal drift down to the ground, before letting the last thought come out as a hushed whisper.
"But in another life—the life I wish we had right now—we'd be just sitting together somewhere instead, like we always did. No nightmares, no regrets... no confessions, even. Just us, friends—and that's all I would've needed."
But it's all just wistful thinking now—dust in the wind, petals on the breeze, leaving nothing in its wake but heartbreak.
3 notes · View notes
angelic-writer · 1 month ago
Note
Matt and Maddie Godrick - "A Eulogy Uninterrupted"
"We are gathered here today to mourn the loss of a kind and compassionate soul."
Madeline caught a few people murmuring in the crowd. "Yeah, sure. Kind and compassionate." She gripped the skirt of her black dress. Why did this have to happen? At her husband's funeral, of all days.
"The last few days of planning this service were... turbulent, but in the end, through the power of the Lord, Matthew Godrick will now be laid to rest."
The murmuring only got louder. "I hope God judges him for how much of a bastard he was."
"Silence! Speaking this way during the service is disrespectful!" The priest boomed. "If any one of you say one more word-"
"This piece of shit should burn in hell for wishing death to children! To animals! For being the spawn of Satan!"
"THAT'S ENOUGH!!" He slammed his fist on the podium, making Maddie jump. "All of you, leave! You clearly have no respect for this man! Voice your complaints later!"
The vicars, priests and ministers grabbed the people that were becoming unruly and dragged them out the door. When one of them passed Madeline, he spat in her face. "May God forgive you for marrying such a wicked man!"
Soon enough, the church was empty, save for Madeline who still sat in her seat. She blinked her eyes, trying to hold back tears. That bastard Declan... He did this. He turned the entire city, no, the entire world against him. An innocent man who had done nothing wrong.
The priest ran his hand through his long curls. "I swear, not even a week of this "truthful news" getting out and they're treating this kid like he's fucking Hitler." He clamped his mouth shut. "Crap, I shouldn't say this in the house of God." He caught Madeline sitting alone and went over to her. "Hey... You doing okay?"
She sniffled. "I-I don't know... I'm still trying to figure out what the hell happened. He looked so happy on his way to work. We were planning dinner." She rubbed her stomach. "I was gonna surprise him..."
He put his hand on her shoulder. "I know... I know. I have no doubt this is very hard on you. With the media frenzy and people willing to believe Fox News over you..." He sighed. "Well, I guess it's just you now. You can go over and say your goodbyes whenever you're ready. You can stay as long as you want."
Madeline nodded and slowly got up. Smoothing the wrinkles out of her dress, she went to the coffin that had her husband in it. The man who she loved so much...
She closed her eyes. "Matt... I-I don't know if you can hear me, but... I just want to say... Thank you for being there for me. In my brightest days and my darkest nights, you were always there to make me happy. You never hesitated to help people in need. You even visited your sick cousin in the hospital when you had an important business meeting you had to call off. That's something only really good people do."
The priest nodded, smiling softly.
"When I first met you in high school, I thought you would be like any other guy I dated. But you surpassed them by miles. You made me laugh, smile, you took me out to places I liked... We even won prom king and queen. You made high school worth it for me. Heck, I still have the stuffed cow you won for me at the fair. I think I still have it in the attic of our old house. I wish I could've gotten it..." She sniffled. "Throughout college and even job hunting, you were always by my side. I don't regret marrying you, Matthew... And I certainly don't regret being with you one last time."
She laid the flowers down, finally letting her tears fall.
"I promise you, Mattie... I will live on for you. I will get revenge on that bastard for what he did to you." She laid her hand on her stomach once more. "For our little one."
The priest's breath hitched, then he sniffled, wiping his tears with his sleeve. This woman had gone through so much. To hear that her husband was shot down in plain daylight... If there was anything more he could do for her, he would gladly do so.
Sadly, he can't bring back the dead. He can only be there to comfort the loved ones, to help ease their pain for a little bit. He opened the Bible, flipping to a verse he had recited many times before. "In your hands, O'Lord..."
2 notes · View notes
mrs-johansson · 1 year ago
Text
Chapter 4: Captain America: The Winter Soldier - Partners in crime
Tumblr media
Part 10:
“Why do I only see you when you get into a hospital?” My dad’s grumbling voice woke me up. Bright lights were making opening my eyes a difficult task but I managed. “I wasn’t planning on getting here,” I declared. “Yeah, everyone says that. How are you anyway?” He took a seat at the side of my bed. “I’m dizzy, but I’m sure I’ll get better in no time,” I sighed and he nodded. “Romanoff just left, she had some government stuff to deal with.” “She was here?” Maybe she visited Steve. “Yeah, didn’t leave your side since they brought you in.” “Right… How’s Steve?” “Holding up, this Sam guy is with him.” “He’s a friend.” “I thought he was a fan, to be honest.” “Sometimes I do too. Can you ask a nurse when they will let me go?” I vocalized. “Yeah, sure.”
She was here. I wouldn’t expect her to do this but clearly she didn’t want me to know since she left. I hope we work things out soon.
***
After one more day in the hospital, I was let go. Going home, I didn’t know what to expect. Is she gonna be there or she'll be long gone?
Unlocking the door I was scared to walk in, but I pushed open the wooden door and I stepped inside.
Seeing a piece of paper on the countertop, I quickly got that and saw that Natasha signed the bottom.
I hope when you read this, you’ll be fully healed and well because you scared us all pretty bad. Even though we broke up, I still want our work to be unbothered from this because it’s very important for both of us. We basically started off as colleges, we should be fine.
I cleaned out my stuff from the apartment, and temporarily I will move back to the HQ. You can stay if you want but we could also keep this as a safe house until we find some options for its future.
Lastly, I wanted to say sorry. We planned so much for us and we were blinded by the pink fog which led us here. All I hope is that all we need is time. You were my first love Y/n, and nothing can change that. But until then, please be careful and never forget, pain only makes us stronger.
Tears were unstoppable. My heart ached. Natasha was my home and my peace. She was the one who I came home to when I had a rough day or she was the one who woke me up from a nightmare.
For a whole year I learned how not to rely on people but she was my person. And now I have to change my life because we didn’t work.
***
After both Steve and I have recovered, Sam and the two of us decided to go out and have some drinks.
“Even though Sam has lost our bet, I’ll pay for tonight’s drinks. Post-breakup spending is everything that I need right now,” we sat down at a table. “How you holding up?” Asked Sam. “Well… I cry myself to sleep every night but I'm fine. I haven’t seen her since, but I don’t want it to affect work, so I need to get my shit together. So we need to drink tonight, these are the times that I wish I could get drunk.” “Alright, that’s why we need a lot of drinks,” Sam stood up. “What are you drinking?” he asked. “Gin and tonic for me, please.” “I’m good with a beer.” As Sam left Steve took his chance and asked away.
“So daughter…” He had a small smile on his freshly shaved face. “Yeah, not a happy story, don’t get your hopes up.” “Is there anything happy about the Red Room?” Giving Steve a shortened version of the story, he was kind of in shock. “So he’s trying to find her?” He asked. “Yeah, I guess.” “Do you think you could be a mom?” He asked. “I don’t know. I’m sure it would be difficult at first, like for everybody, but then I would get great at it.” “I think you would be a great mom.” “Thanks, Steve .”
For the rest of the night we were drinking like there was no tomorrow. Honestly I was feeling sorry for Sam, because he will regret every sip of alcohol tomorrow.
***
The next day we met up with Fury, then I decided I’m gonna work from Stark Industries for a while, lay low and do subtle jobs. Nick thought it was a good idea too.
I texted Natasha and told her if she wanted, she could have the place for herself since I still had my apartment in Manhattan. It would have been a waste to sell that place. So I packed all my stuff by the end of the week. I was finishing the last box when the door opened, and Natasha walked in.
“I’ll be out in a minute, this is the last one,” moving my hands around and all my things flying inside the box. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but you mowing out is way easier,” said Nat as she walked to the kitchen unpacking her groceries. “I gotta use this for something, don’t I?” “I guess… You hungry, I bought some Chinese?” She poked her head out of the kitchen. “Actually I have to go, I need to prepare for a meeting tomorrow.” I took off the apartment key of my keychain before grabbing the last box. “This is yours,” I extended the little key to her but she shook her head. “Keep it, just in case,” Natasha shrugged with a barely noticeable smile on her face. “Alright,” putting it back in my pocket, I made my way towards the door. “I guess I’ll see you around,” I gave her a small nod. “See you around.”
***
Weeks have been passing by. I had a mission every 5 days and in those 5 days I was at the office. Working has been a great distraction from Natasha. We talk like every couple of days. She’s been out of the country for a week now, doing some work for Fury.
Today I had a presentation for the company, a 3 year plan for Stark Industries.
“We need to rebuild some parts of New York. The battle was way too damaging for the citizens and building accommodation is our best way to do so,” I said. On the screen I made a layout of a couple new buildings we could make. “Since we had multiple global sized threats, our buildings need to be stable and practical. Families have lost their homes and we're gonna give it back to them. You’re gonna get the files about the plan by the end of the afternoon. Thank you for your time today,” I looked around and with a round of applause we finished our meeting.
“Y/n you have a visitor waiting in your office,” Liam walked up to me. “Who?” “All he said was James, he wished to remain quiet about him being here.” James is here? “Alright, please keep everyone away from my office.” “Right away.” “Thank you.”
Walking in the hallway, I didn’t know what to expect. He was here as James so anything could happen.
Placing my hand on the handle, I took a deep breath in, then opened in. He was sitting at my desk, not in my chair of course. As he heard the door James turned around. I closed the door behind me and slowly walked to my chair.
He had a baseball hat on, his hair brushed behind his ears. Simple black t-shirt and a brown jacket over it. Leather gloves covering his hand.
“You know, Steve is desperately looking for you. But I’m guessing you want to lay low,” I sat down. “I can’t see him, I need time,” he said. “Where have you been?” “Bucharest, had some missions over there and I always liked the city, very calm and hidden.” “Glad you’re alive,” I gave him a small smile. His features have softened since we last met. “Thank you for not killing me, you had the chance,” he smiled lightly which was a relief. “Well what can I say, I try not to,” I shrugged and we chuckled, but it died down quickly. “How are you holding up?” I asked and he didn’t know how to answer. I could hear his confused thoughts. “You know that by now, don’t you?” He asked with a small smirk but I shook my head. “I don’t use that on people close to me.” “Not even your girlfriend?” I sighed and shifted in my seat. “We broke up.” “What happened?” “He told me about you and her, not gonna lie it was a big surprise… and she just couldn’t open up. I’m not building a relationship on lies.” “So you’re single?” He asked. “That I am.” “Not for long probably. You look pretty good when you are not getting shocked.” “Wow, never thought I’d live the day you talk normally, maybe even flirt,” I chuckled. “That bad, huh?” “Could’ve been worse, but with your looks you could get anyone you want so… don’t worry about the talking.” He nodded. “Not to be rude but… why did you come here?” “I think she might be alive and I needed a place to lay low, but you’re the only person I trust.”
She might be alive? How? This can’t be real. “What makes you think that?” My leg bounced, and my heart started racing. “There’s an orphanage in Main, a girl named Katarina Barnes, she’s two and born in Russia, around the due date you were supposed to have. Her DNA showed all American genes. She grows slowly, probably because of the Super Soldier genes and your godly ones. I needed you to know before I go and see her.” “I’m coming with you,” I said harshly. “But we need to lay low, nobody can know I’m here,” James said with a serious expression on his face. “I’ll hide you, but we need to get her.”
***
“I’ve got some mail for you also, this one I didn’t know what it was. No information on it,” Liam handed me a couple things along with a big orange envelope. “Alright, thank you.”
Opening the envelope, I saw right away that it was Katarina’s birthserificet and all her medical papers.
Going straight to the lab, I tested everything and I sat through the whole night to wait and see if our DNA’s match.
I woke up to my phone buzzing on the counter and as I sat up, I knew it was probably the worst idea to sleep while sitting.
“Yeah?” I spoke into the phone. “Hey, did I wake you?” Natasha’s voice rang through the phone. Shit, she was supposed to bring me some papers. “Ugh yeah, but I just fell asleep accidentally.” “So you’re not at the office?” “I am, kind of. I’m in my lab, can you come down please? I have to show you something,” I cleared my throat trying to get rid of my sore throat. “I’ll bring coffee and breakfast, I bet you haven’t eaten in a decade.” Why is she nice?! I can’t get over her if she’s nice! “Okay, thanks.”
In about thirty minutes, the elevator’s sound alerted me about Nat’s arrival.
“I thought you left those days behind when you sleep here,” Natasha’s woke voice made me turn around. “My daughter is alive.”
Natasha’s mouth dropped open and she stopped in her tracks before slowly walking towards my desk, placing everything on the table. “Are you serious?”
“I mean I haven’t checked the DNA test, but it’s a really big possibility,” I stared at the screen, afraid to look at the results. “Well why didn’t you?” She pulled a chair to the desk and sat down.
“What if she’s not mine… I’ve had hope for a couple of days now, that she’s alive and close. What if it’s not true?” I felt my heart pounding, scared to lose this tiny bit of hope too.
Nat placed a hand on my back which made me look at her. She’s being physical and I’m getting anxious not gonna lie. We are supposed to be broken up.
“Look… there’s another side to those ifs. What if she’s yours, what if you could finally have her? Check the result. Whatever happens, you still have a daughter,” her green eyes were giving so much comfort and I miss that every day. “Fine…”
Clicking on the test, then the result, I brought it out on a projector. The big blue hologram showed the answer.
Tears were floating down my cheek as I read over and over again the positive word. I know Nat was talking but I couldn’t hear anything right at that moment.
I have my daughter and she’s alive.
***
“Ready to go in?” Asked James from the driver’s seat. I looked at the orphanage and all I could think about was this little girl, who was all alone since she was born. “Yeah.”
We called ahead that we were coming and I was never this nervous about anything. I’m about to meet my daughter. After the DNA check, James and I were sure that we needed to come and see her
Walking in I had mixed feelings. If they allow us to adopt her, will I be able to take care of her? Mom’s usually have 9 or more months to prepare for motherhood. And I have had 2 weeks so far.
The manager of the orphanage was very kind to us and immediately showed the way to Katarina. “She’s an angel. Even though she can’t really communicate with the other kids, she has a couple friends who she plays with all the time.” The woman said and I smiled at her words.
There were about six kids in the playroom. It was decorated very nicely, animal cartoons painted on the walls and different shades of earth toned furniture around the room and tons of toys for the babies.
“She’s the one with the pigtails. Now that we’ve met, she’s a great mix of the two of you,” said the woman and I quickly found Katarina. I grabbed onto James’ arm and couldn’t take my eyes off of the little girl.
She had piercing blue eyes and dark brown hair, all from Barnes. A big smile on her face, a couple of teeth already visible. A small flowery dress was on her and tiny shoes. She was perfect. “Can we meet her?” I asked. “Of course, I’ll walk you to a room and we’ll get ready for you.”
The door opened. A woman walked in with Katarina in her hands. She was looking around curiously, small hands resting on her caretaker’s shoulders.
We made eye contact and I fell in love immediately. The pureness in her eyes was unmatchable. “Here you go,” the woman handed her to me, and I was afraid to even touch her. Putting my hands under her arms, I sat her down on my lap.
Big blue eyes were staring up at me and I couldn’t hold back my smile. “I know you can’t hear but hi,” I whispered, brushing a piece of hair out of her face. As I touched her little face, a smile spread across her cheeks. “You’re perfect,” a single tear rolled down my cheeks. “Does she know sign language?” I turned to the manager. “Yes, she’s a very quick learner.”
James took off the glove from his right hand, and carefully reached towards Katarina’s tiny hand. His one finger fit into her whole hand. He waved to her and she looked at him with a huge smile.
We finally found our daughter, who is the most adorable human being on the planet. And she’s perfect, the prettiest little girl.
Even tho she had a rough meeting with the world at first, from now on I will do everything in my power to protect her for on anything and anyone, and show her the word that she holds in her tiny little hands.
****************************************************
This would be the last part of Chapter 4. It’s a little shorter than the last ones, but I thought I wouldn’t drag it out more. Next chapter will be:
Avengers: Age of Ultron - Two Ghosts
33 notes · View notes
alarawriting · 1 year ago
Text
52 Project #53: After The Chicken Story
And here it is, the bonus story, a sequel to the one I started this project with.
*********
Things have been kind of crazy around here the last few years, not just because of the pandemic, but there’s been a lot going on. Gotta say that mostly, those years haven’t been real great for us. Lots of changes, some good, some bad, some eh, but that’s life, right?
So my oldest daughter went to college to become a marine biologist, and now she’s on an expedition to study the Kraken in the harbor. Gotta say I didn’t expect it. Not because she didn’t show any interest in marine biology, she was crazy for it when she was young, but because every girl around here seemed to want to grow up to be a marine biologist, kind of like every girl when I was growing up wanted to work with horses. Except my wife, she’s terrified of them. Most of the kids who wanted to be marine biologists did not end up that way, but my daughter’s working on a master’s degree in it. Wants to do all this stuff with conservation and the Bay. Which, I guess, the Kraken  lives in the Bay and if we piss it off enough by dumping crap in its home territory so there’s no food for it, it might burn the city down again, so there’s a good conservation argument for you.
My oldest son, the ninja, has actually left the country; he’s gone to Japan to study under ninja masters at some ninja school. Either that, or break into working for Nintendo, because what he really wants in life is to make video games. Being a ninja isn’t a profession for him, it’s a way of life. I miss the kid, he never writes home. Would it kill him to drop us a note on Discord? But it sounds like he’s happy, which is the important thing.
And my younger son has a web comic going. Well, it’s not exactly a web comic, more like one of those mixed media things where he’s got comic pages and audio files and animations and mini-games and all that kind of stuff, about, supposedly, a fictionalized version of himself going into the tunnel under the road and traveling to the Underworld. It’s like, Dante’s Inferno as rewritten by Gen Z. Not literally Dante’s Inferno, I think he’s only ever read the Wikipedia article about it, but similar concept. Surprisingly, it’s mostly a dark comedy. I haven’t asked him if any of it is true, because I don’t want to know.
My youngest kid’s not doing nearly as well, since we brought back her timeshadow from the moon. I never took her seriously when she used to say she had a clone on the moon; turns out that, while a timeshadow is technically not a clone, she did actually have a copy of herself up on the moon. (Nowhere near my family’s barbeque grill. I’m starting to think I’ll never see that thing again.) The thing about timeshadows is, if your timeshadow touches you, it merges into you and then you have all of its memories, but if it had problems, you probably got them too. And living on the Moon for most of your life is not good for timeshadows any more than for regular humans, so when they merged, my kid got frail and weak – not as bad as someone who’d lived on the Moon their whole life, in the weak gravity, but worse off than she was. She didn’t get any taller, though. The timeshadow had shot up like a string bean, side effect of Lunar gravity, but when they merged, my kid got the deficits and not the benefits.
I wish it hadn’t happened and part of me regrets bringing the kid back from the moon, but the thing about a timeshadow is, it’s not entirely real, but it has thoughts and feelings just like the real human it’s a copy of, so what was I gonna do? Leave someone who is essentially my daughter up on the Moon without family? My daughter has lost enough of her childhood memories that she no longer has any idea how the timeshadow got on the Moon or why she even had a timeshadow, and the daycare she used to go to is out of business, so I don’t think there’s any way I can find out.
Things got kind of bad for my wife, too. The last time I talked about things, it ended up looking like we were going to buy our annoying neighbor’s house after my wife harassed her into leaving the neighborhood. Well, that didn’t happen, because my wife lost her job, and then ended up with breast cancer. They had to take them off. She looked into getting breast missiles but the damn things are too hard to reload, so she got pockets instead. Now if she really wants to keep something safe, she can stick it in her boob, not just in her bra. I always thought that those things were only for drug smugglers, but my wife wants to be able to go to the beach by herself and keep her credit cards and ID on her person when she goes in the water, and apparently she can seal up the pockets to be waterproof. So far evidence suggests she’s cancer free and the thing never made it out of her breasts, and that’s good, so things could be worse. The people who did buy the annoying neighbor’s house are nice folks, a Hispanic family where the father works in some kind of industrial chemistry as a scientist… I think. At least, he’s got some crazy shit in his swimming pool.
And then, my idiot boyfriend let the Fae know his true name. He’s a trans dude and very proud of the name he picked. He wasn’t going to go deadnaming himself when the Fae dude he met asked if he could have his name. So now his paperwork is not going through, and some stupid thing keeps happening every time he tries to legally change his name, because apparently the Fae now own his name. He’s considered changing it to a different name, but once you start to think about yourself as a name, that’s apparently your True Name. So he could maybe solve the issue of the paperwork, but he can’t solve the problem that fairies know his name and keep calling him. Sometimes he tries to sleepwalk straight out of the house; we’ve found him in the middle of the street in a fugue state, or talking to people we couldn’t see. My wife’s been trying to help him with the paperwork, but since she’s had her own battles to fight, it hasn’t worked so well.
We still have chickens. But now we also have a 2 dimensional dog, a cockatoo who works tech support, and approximately seventeen cats. I can’t really keep track of them all. They’ve cleared out the rat population, which is good, because Orion the assassin cat has been getting up in years and isn’t quite as murderous as he used to be, but they break out into two clans and the clans feud like the Hatfields and McCoys. We’re not at war with the city over the chickens anymore; now it’s the yard. Mostly about the Fae circles, but also about mowing the lawn, which, you try mowing over a Fae circle. And tell me how it went, fifty years when you pop back into reality, if you ever do.
Anyway, this story isn’t about the chickens, or not nearly so much as the last story was. It’s more of an explanation of why things ended up the way they did.
So first off, work. Now, I’ve been working from home from before it was cool; got my own IT company, works with Amazon Web Services helping other businesses deal with them. When my wife lost her job, she started working here as well, which was just as well because then when she got cancer, she could get all the time off for chemo and stuff that she needed. A year or so later, when the news about the pandemic first hit, business was jumping. Everybody wanted to get into the cloud and not have to come into the office anymore.
Huh, actually, no, that’s not where it starts. Let’s start with the two dimensional dog.
So my youngest kid really wanted a two dimensional dog. They’re pretty rare, on account of being two dimensional. You ever hear of a paper tiger, well, this is a paper dog. They’re not really two dimensional, but something about, most of their mass is phased into a different dimension and we can only see the part of them that intersects with this plane? They can be very intimidating because you look at this dog, you think, goddamn that is one skinny dog, and then it comes up to you with its jaws hanging open, panting, and it looks like a smile. A giant smile. A giant, very toothy, very scary smile. This is a dog you want to keep happy because you don’t know what it will do if it’s not happy. They’re very tall, and very long, and very very skinny, but the mass is there, as you can tell when the dog jumps up on you.
Ours came from Russia. Well, her parents came from Russia. Well, her ancestors. We’re not really sure when it was that Russia engineered two dimensional dogs, but we know that when the Soviet Union fell, people over there started selling these dogs to the US because they were weird, and rich people love weird, and Russians after the collapse of Communism really wanted the money. Then some people who probably weren’t all that rich spent too much money on the dogs so they could look richer than they were, and ended up having to sell off puppies for a lot less than they wanted when the dot com boom busted. My daughter wanted one ever since she heard about them. She was super into science and math, and the idea of a two dimensional dog really appealed to her.
My wife’s ex used to have one he got from a rescue, but we went looking for the rescue and found out it had to shut down after they accidentally accepted a Hound of Tindalos, and you know how that goes. So we had to buy our dog. Her name’s Svetlana and she will do anything to get some peanut butter, regular butter, cheese, potato chips… you know, anything you might imagine your teenagers would clean you out of. Being that she’s two dimensional, she will absolutely slip through any crack in a door you leave, including the fridge door if you don’t shut it all the way. We’ve lost so much butter that way.
Now, Svetlana loves cats. Loves cats. Before we got her fixed, she loved them in a kind of not-entirely-PG-rated way, but even after that, she really wants to play with cats. She is six times as tall as a cat. Cats do not want to play with her. At the time, we had three cats – Orion the mighty hunter/assassin cat, Odin the grumpy ancient man who our best guesses had at 24 years old then, and Tiamat, the tortie who thought she was human. Well, who at least thought she deserved to be able to get chicken out of the refrigerator and sit at the dinner table. They had their normal cat idiosyncrasies; Tiamat liked Rice Krispies but hated fish, Odin enjoyed sleeping in the litter box, and Orion liked to cross-dress. Well, not sure you can call it that since female cats don’t generally wear frilly doll dresses, either. But the kids – and my boyfriend -- thought it was fun to put dresses on him, and while the others would immediately divest themselves if you tried to make them wear anything, Orion seemed to enjoy his dresses. He’d even head-butt the kids if one of them was holding a doll dress, until the kid put the dress on him. None of these cats wanted anything to do with Lana.
Coincidentally, my boyfriend’s parents in Canada had a bunch of local feral cats who’d just had kittens. You see where this is going.
Sylph was a pretty little Siamese kitten who enjoyed playing with my boyfriend’s parents’ dog. We thought she’d make a good friend for Lana, and because she had a sister she was inseparable from, we didn’t want to separate them. So we ended up with Raven as well, a solid black cat who became the photographic subject of many memes about how the void wants chicken.
Lana, big dumb goofy nerd that she was, got too enthusiastic about playing with the kittens. The kittens didn’t appreciate it. Then the kittens turned into teenage female cats, at which point we discovered that Lana is actually a lesbian xenophile… ailurophile? You can’t call it bestiality when they’re all beasts. This was more than a little disturbing, and we all wanted to return to our illusions that our dog loved our cats in a wholesome friendly way, so we arranged to get them all fixed, Lana first.
And then Covid hit.
If you had pets you might remember that right after Covid started, the vets all turtled up, nothing but emergency appointments. Fixing animals was apparently not an emergency. Lana got done in time, but our little girls, not so much.
We did our best to keep them inside, but with all the secret tunnels in the basement, the rat warrens that come up in the laundry room, and the holes in reality that the wall squids made, we cannot in fact keep anything the size of a cat in, or out. I mean, cats can’t usually phase through walls, but they are one of the only animals on the planet fast enough to catch a wall squid, and if they tag the thing, they can often follow it right through its phase. Since they can’t actually enter the dimension the things come from, though, this generally leaves them outside whatever wall they were going through, which is fine when it’s the interior living room wall and not so great when it’s the wall covered with ivy outside. The only thing that keeps stranger cats from turning up in our house at random is ours are so damn territorial, and the only thing that keeps our cats in is nothing. Nothing can keep our cats in.
By the time we got Sylph and Raven rescheduled for their spays, they were both pregnant with kittens.
There are some vets that will abort kittens while spaying. Not the ones around here. Also they both had lots of them. Sylph had six, Raven had five. We have a tradition around here that kittens don’t get real names until they’re adults, they get temporary names. So Sylph’s six were Up, Down, Top, Bottom, Strange and Charmed, and Raven’s five were named after five members of Voltron, from the old series my wife grew up with, not the reboot. And she left out Sven. I think she forgot he existed.
As if this was not bad enough, Tiamat got pregnant. See, we’d never fixed her, because the one time we had an appointment, she managed to disappear, and she’d get fat and then thin again within weeks, not long enough to bring a pregnancy to term. We knew that her father and her brother were the same cat, so we figured she might have some kind of genetic abnormality preventing pregnancy. Nope! Or, maybe. Maybe she needed exposure to cat pregnancy pheromones to be able to bring a litter to term. She had four. We named them after the Three Musketeers plus D’Artagnan.
If you’re counting, you know that at this point, we had a total of twenty cats.
Meanwhile, we were hoarding food. Frozen and nonperishable, I’m not talking about stuff you have to refrigerate. We bought three new freezers (which took forever, because everyone else apparently had the same idea), filled them with meat (we hooked up with a butcher and got a whole cow, a whole pig, a whole emu, and a couple of deer), then filled our pantry and multiple bins with dry food. With Covid going on, we didn’t want to have to leave the house and go shopping any more than we had to. We even got dry milk. Which is disgusting, by the way, do not use it for your cereal, but it does tolerably well when the instant mashed potato box says to use milk to make mashed potatoes. We didn’t go full prepper with MREs and dehydrated food, but only because my boyfriend’s parents were preppers and he was able to advise us that that stuff tastes like shit.
Twenty cats produce a lot of cat poop. My boyfriend, whose job it was to clean the cat boxes, was frequently distracted by the Fae trying to call him. My wife and I were overwhelmed with work. My son the ninja helped out for a while, but then he got accepted to study under a ninja master. I thought there was no way he’d be able to go; we were in lockdown. Japan wasn’t accepting US citizens. Hell, Canada wasn’t; my boyfriend could go visit his parents because he was actually a Canadian citizen, but we were worried that he wouldn’t be able to come back, so he didn’t.
Ninjas, apparently, have resources that most ordinary Japanese citizens don’t. They came in a helicopter in the dead of night, and we only knew about it because he went to say goodbye to the chickens and woke them up and they started clucking, which set off the dog. We got outside in time to see my son disappear up the helicopter ladder, promising us, incorrectly, that he would write. You’d think ninjas wouldn’t use something as ostentatious as a chopper, but the truth is our city is lousy with choppers. Police choppers. News choppers. Medevac choppers. Elementary school bus choppers. Ghostbuster choppers. No one here blinks when they hear the sound of a helicopter overhead, and a blacked-out ninja helicopter looks exactly like a blacked-out police helicopter.
Since then we mostly hear about him through his brother, who does not have the level of detail sufficient to make my wife happy, but at least we know enough to know that his ninja cover is that he’s interning at Nintendo. Apparently ninjas do not really live in secret compounds where they dress all in black and train non-stop; the point of being a ninja is that you blend in, so ninjas get real jobs, and they’re plausible jobs that the ninja is good at doing. My son’s always wanted to make video games, so he’s in the best possible place, I think. I hope he’s doing well at learning Japanese, though. They only had French, German and Spanish in school and he somehow managed to skip out on learning any of them. I think the school decided that C++ counted as a language.
But this meant my son wasn’t around to help with the cats. My older daughter had moved out a while back while she was getting her degree, and she was living in her own apartment so she didn’t need to come back home for Covid like the college kids in the dorms did. My younger daughter hadn’t yet merged with her timeshadow, we didn’t retrieve her from the moon until the following year, but neither she nor my younger son were willing to be much help. Meanwhile, dry food, in bins, much of it in cardboard boxes that bugs can slip into, some of the bins chewable by mice. Plus, all the restaurants were closed, so the bugs and the mice and the rats all wanted to find someplace that still had food. And our house, as mentioned earlier, is porous to anything the size of a cat, or smaller.
First we had the plague of mealmoths, that infested everything we owned made of grain or nuts. We love nuts, and my wife is crazy for pasta, and we have rice, and cold cereal, and bread. The way you’re supposed to purge your house of mealmoths is throw out all your grains and don’t bring any in for two weeks. This was not happening. I wanted to build a cedar pantry, but a. very busy at work and b. not allowed to go to Home Depot, and not about to try to have expensive wood shipped to the house. The business was doing well, but not that well. I knew from my tunneling project and my attic renovation that if you need wood shipped to you, you end up having to buy way more of it than you need, which is why there are still piles and piles of lumber in my attic.
Instead we ordered tons and tons of jars and plastic cereal bins with bug-proof seals and stuff like that to store all our grains in, and my wife had to go through them all to identify what the bugs had already gotten to, and then throw bay leaves into all the containers. Apparently mealmoths hate bay leaves.
The dishwasher stopped working. By now, we could get repair people again, but the repair guy said that the wires underneath the thing had been shredded by mice, and he didn’t know how to fix that. We tried getting a warranty repair. Turns out warranty repairs don’t cover shredded by mice.
So we got a new dishwasher, and I stashed the old one in the garage, figuring I might be able to repair it once I had some spare time. Twenty cats managed to clean out the rats before they even got a foothold, but apparently they had been slacking when it came to dealing with the mice. It was understandable, given that most of those cats were kittens and three of the cats who weren’t kittens were occupied raising kittens. Odin was too old and there was only so much Orion could do by himself.
The world outside basically stopped. My daughter didn’t go to her middle school graduation, didn’t attend the school she’d been so enthusiastic about going to for high school, and then by the time they opened the schools again she was too fragile to walk around the school building. We tried to get her into a program where she’d get to still be attending school from home, but the school did not understand how a timeshadow merge could possibly have made her too weak to go to school, and they refused. Meanwhile, my son just stopped going to high school, basically marking time until he turned 18 and could drop out, working on his web comic. And me and my wife worked from home, and my boyfriend was on disability and didn’t work anyway, plus you really can’t work when the Fae are trying to summon you and you have to hide out from them. So nobody ever left the house. My wife would go out for groceries, when we weren’t doing Instacart or when she needed to pick up stuff for my home improvement projects, but aside from that, nobody went anywhere. Not even the yard; my wife used to garden, but we were busy, plus, Fae circles. No one wants to risk stepping in one of those.
When there’s no routine, when nobody has to leave and nobody has school and the people who have a job are working pretty much all the time, time disappears. I’d look up from my PC and find an entire month had gone by. It seemed like this was a bit much even for the liminal timelessness of no routines, and then we found the infestation of time flies. Fuckers love fruit. You know the saying, time flies like a banana, but we had a peach tree and apple trees and a mulberry bush and grapevines and tomatoes all over the place, and this apparently attracted the time flies, who then moved into the house after we killed the mealmoths. Time flies don’t look too different from regular flies; they look just like cluster flies, those incredibly stupid little guys who live in the walls and are too stupid to figure out how to get back into the walls once they get out, so we’d never noticed. They lay their eggs in fruit, but they themselves eat time, and they don’t care about bay leaves, or mint, which we were using to try to drive the mice off.
Problem was, with five people never leaving a house, hoarding food, and having twenty cats, as soon as the time disappeared the house became an utter disaster, and there was no way we could have an exterminator over. Also no way to call an exterminator anyway, because nobody was actually answering phone calls! Anywhere!! And we didn’t have the time to follow up on anything. It’s a miracle we got the cats fixed and managed to give some of them away. Not nearly enough, mind you. I don’t know whether we got rid of three or five or seven but we still have an absurd number of cats. And cats will chase mice, and wall squid, and Orion was willing to go after rats, but none of them were gonna touch a time fly.
We put up flypaper, of course, and rubbed mushy banana on it to attract them, but once the time flies have infested your house, you have a lot less time to get anything done, including getting rid of your time flies. Then the oven broke, but since we have two halves of a house, we had two ovens, so we didn’t do much to get it fixed. My wife wanted it to get fixed before Thanksgiving, but with the time flies, that was ambitious.
Then my boyfriend brought home a cockatoo. How he managed to find the time to get a cockatoo, I’ll never know. The family who’d owned the cockatoo apparently had to get rid of her because she was “wrecking our home.” I wondered, how does a bird you can keep in a cage wreck a house?
The bird decided she was my mate, and that my wife and boyfriend – who did most of the bird feeding chores – were her rivals in a harem anime. When I let her out, she wouldn’t let them come near me. Apparently the home-wrecking in question had not been literal destruction of a house, though she was capable of that too if she was bored enough. My boyfriend kept trying to win her over, but my wife had never forgotten about the birds who pecked her dog’s eyes out because the dog claimed that birds didn’t exist, and she was an introvert, so she was happy to go hide in her office all the time and never go near the bird.
Meanwhile, if I put Jessica – the bird – in her cage, she shrieked. All the time. Ever hear the Cure song “Like Cockatoos?” Where Robert Smith says that the night sang out like cockatoos, and it sounds all sad and romantic? Yeah, Robert Smith never went anywhere near a cockatoo. They do not sing. They screech. And they burble, and they talk, but when they’re bored, or angry, or angry and bored, they screech.
I couldn’t have Jessica climbing all over me while I was working. Sure, everyone loves when your cat photobombs the Zoom call, but the bird could talk, and did not give a shit about professional office language. I couldn’t have her screaming either. So I gave her a job. She was now Tier 1 tech support. One of her favorite things to say was, “What the fuck, Amazon?”  This endeared her to the customers, who were generally calling in because AWS had done something to screw up their day. She really enjoyed interacting with the customers, they liked her, and my existing tech support team liked having someone to semi-screen the calls. Of course, she couldn’t type what the customer’s complaint was into a ticket, but she could peck a touchscreen with a co-worker’s face and make a call to tell them what the complaint was, so they could enter the ticket.
Cockatoos don’t eat time flies, either, and the time flies loved the fruit in her bowl, so we started losing even more time. The bills didn’t get paid. There were gaps of three months in telemedicine visits that were supposed to have been two week follow-ups.
We got rid of the majority of the infestation when the summer ended and all the fruit had been harvested. Turns out that time flies really do not like caffeine. We used old coffee and painted it on bananas and apples, they’d come lay their eggs, and then the eggs would die because of the caffeine. We couldn’t do anything about Jessica’s food because you can’t feed caffeine to a cockatoo, but time flies don’t really like dried fruit so much, unlike Jessica, who loved it. They also don’t care for seeds or nuts. And we weren’t feeding the chickens fruit, and obviously neither the dog nor the cats ate the stuff, so we finally managed to take a breath, come up for air, look around ourselves -- and realize that now we had a massive roach infestation.
We tried spraying. We thought that would be enough. Then the new dishwasher stopped working, we got a warranty repairman, and he told us he couldn’t do it. Warranty wouldn’t cover it. When he took off the cover and showed us the little roach apartments, with the roaches sitting around their dining room tables feeding the crumbs they’d stolen to their four million children, looking up at us and giving us the finger (technically, the leg, but I knew what they meant), we realized that spraying commercial pesticide was not going to solve this. But now the fuckers had destroyed our second dishwasher, so this meant war. And without time flies draining all the time away, we had the resources to go to war.
I’d planned to spend the winter months renovating the bathroom. I didn’t mention our bathroom, did I? The new house, the one my wife’s parents bought, had two bathrooms – a nice big one on the upper floor and a tiny little water closet with just a sink and a toilet on the first floor. But in our original house, the one we owned, there was only one bathroom, and it was a galley where literally most of the length and width of it was taken by the bathtub, so to get to the toilet on the other side of the bathroom you had to slide along the wall like you’re making a home music video for “Walk Like An Egyptian” by the Bangles. Or else stroll through the tub. Or else use the rings I bolted to the ceiling joists for my ninja son and swing along the ceiling, but he was the only one who could do that. My boyfriend, a big guy, could barely use the thing. So almost immediately after we got the other house, everyone stopped using that bathroom and switched to the one next door, except for my ninja son because his bedroom was right next to it and it was convenient for him. Ninjas are good at slinking through narrow passages. Now that he had left, I’d planned to tear the whole thing out, and his bedroom, and replace them both with a normal-shaped bathroom and a slightly smaller bedroom.
I didn’t get the chance. We needed to do battle.
It hadn’t helped that some neighborhood ne’er-do-well, who was probably high as a kite, broke into our house in the middle of the summer because our dog was mouthing off to him, threatened the dog, told the cockatoo he’d fuck her up (we know this because she started saying “Gonna fuck you up!” every time we told her it was bedtime or that she needed to be quiet or stop climbing in my hair), and smashed all our fishtanks. Fortunately we had no fish. Unfortunately we had like five fishtanks because my boyfriend had wanted to rescue feeder goldfish and breed guppies for sale, so we’d filled up three forty gallon tanks and two twenties, plus a few tiny five gallons, and then due to the time flies we’d never gotten around to putting fish in them. This did terrible damage to the floor. We had the guy dead to rights on video, managed to actually get the city police to pick him up and a prosecution going, and then he jumped bail and fled, possibly through a Fae circle because no one ever saw him again. He was gonna owe us several thousand dollars for the floor damage.
After we got rid of the time flies, we discovered that the damaged floor had become completely porous to roaches, so what had probably started as a basement infestation had become a full blown house emergency. There were roaches in the cereal. (This was the fault of whoever wasn’t following the mealmoth protocol and leaving the cereal out of the protective plastic bins.) They’d destroyed the dishwasher and were working on the refrigerator. Every cabinet and drawer we had was entirely full of the little assholes, plus the condos they’d built in the dishwasher, plus several of our sealed bins of food that turned out to be less sealed than we’d thought.
Meanwhile the city had sold our house to some asshole lawyers in Ohio, because we hadn’t mowed our lawn, and we had allowed Fae circles to spring up there, which was considered a hazard. Which it was, yes, but only to us and people trespassing on our property, and how the fuck do you safely get rid of those things anyway? We had racked up several thousand dollars’ worth of fines for not being able to mow the lawn because of the Fae circles and not being able to get rid of the Fae circles because we couldn’t safely mow the lawn, and then the time flies interfering with our ability to remember to pay the damn fines before they ballooned. We were still in a state of national emergency at this point, the vaccine was right on the horizon but no one we knew had qualified to get it yet, and they wanted to make us homeless because we didn’t mow our lawn. This was absolute bullshit, and personally, I think may have been retaliation from people at Animal Control, who are not the same guys that fine you for your lawn but they work under the same overarching department in the city government. If we hadn’t gotten rid of the time flies, we might not have been able to respond in time. There was stuff in there that was nonsensical, like fines for having high grass and weeds in February, or for not having cleaned up the area where we put our trash cans in 2019, or for too many kites on the roof. Why does it even matter if there are kites on the roof? We put them there to distract local falcons away from our chickens! They can’t fly into the power lines, they’re tethered with metal cable!
Also they threatened to chop down our mulberry tree because it was in the way of the street light, which didn’t work anyway and which, when it did work, blinded people in my son’s old bedroom, which my younger son was going to move into as soon as we finished the bathroom renovations. Which as it turned out we couldn’t even start, but he moved in anyway because his room didn’t have a ceiling. His older sister had been exorcising ghosts from that room and somehow this made the ceiling fall in, so we’d been using cheap fake paneling in lieu of a real ceiling, and this does nothing to stop ghosts getting back into the room. So my wife put barbed wire around the mulberry tree. Well, it wasn’t really barbed wire, it was tomato cages she’d unraveled and linked into each other in a crazy way that made a fence with sharp wires sticking out of it in all directions. The city fined us for that, too, but she was going to challenge that in court, because no one was going to hurt themselves on it as long as they didn’t try to trespass on our property and mess around with our tree.
Anyway, so we paid off the lawyers in Ohio to get full title to our house back, and we paid off the city’s fines, which, due to lockdown, involved going to city hall, then going to the basement of city hall because the front door was locked, then giving several thousand dollars in cash to a garden gnome because someone at the city had thought it was fun and whimsical to replace the cash drop with a garden gnome. The cash drop was now in his mouth. Then we called every day for a month before we managed to get someone on the phone who could confirm that yes, the garden gnome had had the money and the city managed to get it out and put it on our account, but they wanted another $200 in interest because the time between us dropping the cash and them picking up the cash and putting it on our account was somehow our fault.
And all this time, we’re battling the roaches.
They’d proved themselves immune to pyrethin or whatever that stuff is in most commercial pesticides, whereas we had a house full of people who’d blow up with allergies when anything even slightly nasty was in their airspace, so no more pyrethin for us. We had to get by on organics. Cloves, lavender, mint, citrus – turns out there is a reason humans eat a lot of the stuff we eat, and it’s not just because it tastes good. It’s because it preserves your food, because pretty much every critter except for bedbugs and time flies hate the stuff. Mixtures of boric acid and sugar. Diatomaceous earth. A new dishwasher that’s fully enclosed so it’d be a lot harder for them to get in, and putting the old dishwasher into a gigantic garbage bag, then buying dry ice and filling the bag with it to try to suffocate them all. It worked, but the dishwasher was still toast, and once again, the warranty repair people wouldn’t fix it. The roaches might have been dead but the repair guy could plainly see the condos they’d left behind.
While this was going on, the second oven broke, so we had to get people in to fix them both. Guess what. No, no, you’ll never guess. No warranty repair. No repair at all, actually. The oven that had been under warranty turned out to have been fried by a pair of lovebird mice that had decided to get amorous right where their pals had been gnawing at electric wires, so when we turned the stove on, the current went through both mice, and now we had furry mice skeletons trapped forever in a posture that made it clear they’d been mating. The other oven was destroyed by roaches, and the repair guy, who we were paying for, not a warranty repair, refunded our money because he wasn’t willing to touch it.
We had no ovens and we were sick and tired of buying warranties that would never be honored, so we went to a place called Roy’s Discount Appliances, which was in the basement of a warehouse that used to belong to Toys R Us before they went out of business, and was a maze of ovens, dishwashers, refrigerators and washing machines that were used, refurbs, or on deep clearance because the manufacturer had discontinued them. Nothing like trying to shove two ovens into a minivan where you’ve removed the back seats, but you brought three people, so now one of them has to ride home sitting on the side of an oven and your tailgate won’t close so you have a bungee cord holding it down. We paid cash to get a 5% discount, and I strongly suspect some of those appliances fell off the back of truck, if you know what I mean.
Meantime, we’re repairing the floor. This means putting everything from the first floor of the house, except for the kitchen since it has a stone floor, into one of those portable rental units – not a storage facility because we wanted close access to it. The basement tunnels are prone to flooding, so we didn’t want to use them, also the staircase down there is a little too rickety for me to feel secure carrying my 80-inch television down it.
The city refuses to give us a permit for the storage unit. Says we have to pay our fines. We just did that. They record this stuff in cuneiform printed by dot matrix printers onto carbon sheets, so we have no way to tell if the fines they’re talking about are new fines, or the old fines that we paid cash to a garden gnome for, because we’re not organized enough to know where most of our mail is, so we don’t have the originals. Also we can’t read cuneiform. My wife’s dad can, but my wife doesn’t want him to know how big our fines are or how badly organized we are, and she thinks she could learn cuneiform if she had two weeks of free time. She does not have two weeks of free time. But my boyfriend makes friends with all the neighbors – he always did, but it’s especially been important since the Fae started calling him – and the Hispanic family with the chemist dad offers us their shed, which turns out to be significantly bigger on the inside, for less than we’d have paid for a portable storage unit. They’re just a couple of houses down the block, so it’s almost as good as a unit.
We spend a few months ripping up badly damaged tile and rug, all of which date from at least the 70’s and I always hated anyway, scrubbing off floor adhesive, and laying down a new hardwood floor, just us. By which I mean mostly just me, my wife doesn’t do handyman stuff (she helped with the scrubbing part, and she buys the supplies, but that’s it) and my boyfriend hasn’t really been useful for anything since the Fae started calling him. So now the roaches can’t get upstairs from the basement, but it’s too late, they have a beachhead here now, and so what we’ve just basically done is locked ourselves in with them. We start seeing more of the little fuckers. Now they’re getting into books and DVD cases and clothes hampers. Some end up in the bedroom.
You may ask why we don’t hire an exterminator. Remember the twenty cats? Maybe down to thirteen or seventeen or something by now – some of them spend all their time outdoors – but there are a lot of cats. And they’re at war with each other.
There’s the Canada clan – Sylph and Raven themselves have decided they are outdoor cats, but most of their kittens still live with us – and Tiamat’s clan, which includes Orion and Odin because Orion is one of Tiamat’s brothers (hopefully not the one who is also her father, but we got them from a hoarder’s kid going through his parents’ property, so we never actually found out), and she’s decided that Odin is less awful now that he’s a gazillion years old and she has the Canada clan to compare them to. My youngest daughter, who is mostly confined to her room due to physical weakness and compromised immune system, treats Tiamat’s kittens like they’re her own children (including carrying them around baby style, putting them in toy strollers she is way too old for, and occasionally putting one in a toy Pack n Play and then covering it with a large cardboard box as a “time-out”), so they have a home base. The Canada clan grew up in our bedroom, so they have a home base. The rest of the house is a war zone.
Whenever you walk through the house, there are cats hissing at each other, yowling, swiping at each other, chasing each other, the works. It’s still cold outside, so we can’t get them to go out and do their fighting outdoors like civilized cats. Our homeowners insurance dropped us when they found out about the tunnels in the basement. (They didn’t know we made the tunnels, and we didn’t admit to it, but insurance inspectors can be incredibly thorough when they want to be.) We haven’t been able to get a new policy yet. So my wife does not want a guy traipsing around the whole house where he might get tripped or scratched by warring cats. We’ve all learned to dodge, but an exterminator wouldn’t necessarily be experienced with being in a cat war zone.
It’s one thing to get repair guys into one or the other of the kitchens, they have doors and we can lock the cats out if we have to (I know most kitchens do not, in fact, have doors that can lock out the rest of the house, but we needed one back in the days when we had Angel, our beagle who we called that because as soon as you weren’t looking at him he would sneak into the kitchen and eat anything he could find, like the Weeping Angels on Doctor Who except with less neck breaking and more stealing your PB+J the instant your back was turned. That was before we had the other house, but we installed a similar door on the other house to keep the two dimensional dog from sneaking into our bedroom and pooping there.) It’s another thing to have a guy going all over your house while your cats are setting up ambushes for each other. And without homeowner’s insurance, we can’t risk it.
So it’s down to us. But we’re creative. My boyfriend has been seeing giant bugs that look like a cross between centipedes and beetles. Like the wall squid, they’re not entirely in our reality; he can see them because of his connection to the Fae. Well, my wife looks them up and apparently they are predators who eat bugs. We just have to get them over into our reality, and then figure out how to dispose of them. We can’t get frogs because the cats would attack them, and we can’t get an anteater because exotic animal, need a permit and besides, it’s not called a roach eater. We can bring the chickens inside to go roach hunting from time to time, but they poop all over the floor so the cure’s almost worse than the disease.
In our yard, there’s an old wooden gate that fell off the new house shortly after we got it, and instead of throwing it out, we leave it in the yard and move it around from time to time to kill weeds. The Fae made a circle on it. We carry the wooden gate into the house, and then my boyfriend leaves out sugar water to attract the centipeedles through the circle. Now we have centipede beetles the length of a human foot (which is mostly a lot shorter than the measurement named for it) in the house. Possibly this was ill thought out. The cats try attacking them, but it turns out, cats find centipeedles just as creepy as humans do, and the damn things have some pretty tough armor. It doesn’t take much before the cats get intimidated and leave them alone. Even Orion the assassin cat gives them a wide berth.
Turns out, the centipeedles are great at killing the roaches, but no one wants centipeedles in their pantry, or their silverware drawer. My daughter just literally stops eating off anything but her own private stash of sealed paper plates and plastic silverware because she’s so creeped out by the thought of either roaches or centipeedles touching anything she might eat off of. This isn’t great, the kid is already too thin and too easily put off her food. She was always picky, but apparently the timeshadow spent ten years eating moon cheese and is having a hard time stomaching Earth food, so now everything nauseates her, gives her a stomach, or is unappetizing in the first place.
One thing I will say for chickens: they’ll eat centipeedles. They don’t care, it’s all food to them. The cats have learned that chickens are much more of a threat and much less of a prey than they might think. Lana the two dimensional dog will happily chase the chickens, but she’s less two dimensional than she used to be. She doesn’t get enough exercise and she steals a lot of food, so she’s looking considerably more three dimensional than when we got her, which is good because it keeps her from slipping through closed doors, though bad in the sense that it’s not that healthy for her. There is enough clutter around the place, what with my tools, piles of lumber for the floor, and boxes of books that were deemed too heavy to carry over to the neighbors’ shed, that chickens have plenty of places to take shelter from a two and a half dimensional dog. And if we let Jessica the cockatoo out, turns out she thinks centipeedles are a fun piece of moving string to catch and tear in half. You’d think that a predator like a cat would be better at killing a centipeedle than a hookbill bird, but turns out, the centipeedles’ bellies are barely armored and the cockatoo has nearly opposable thumbs on her feet. She can flip them over, and then peck, peck, crack, done.
So we’ve got the chickens running around the place in chicken diapers to eat the centipeedles that we brought over from the lands of the Fae to eat the roaches, but we still have roaches and we still have centipeedles because it turns out you can’t control house bugs with predators. Spiders might be better at it and my boyfriend wants to get some, but my wife shoots that down.
I’m kinda at my wits’ end here, and then my youngest son wants to show me something.
So to understand this, I gotta tell you something about the layout of my house. We’ve got a full duplex, both sides, thanks to my wife’s dad. The front of the house is on a busy street, and my bedroom and my youngest daughter’s bedroom face that. The back of the house faces our deck, and my ninja son’s former bedroom (from the original side we had) and the guest room (from the new side we got) face that. Then there’s a room in the middle of our original house, that my younger son used to have, but now he’s moved into his older brother’s room. The bathroom is next to the boys’ bedroom, and also faces the deck.
Back a few years ago, before Covid, I did a renovation on my ninja son’s bedroom where I made it a little smaller, in preparation for making the bathroom wider. Then I didn’t have the opportunity to work on the bathroom. So there’s a narrow corridor between the bathroom and the bedroom. I threw together a quick and dirty closet to occupy some of that space, so the boys’ bedroom now has a closet in the corner that faces the bathroom and the deck. My younger son guided me over to this closet, and pulled up a trap door that I hadn’t known was there. There was a spiral staircase underneath.
So I went down the spiral staircase, of course, but I was freaking out. This hadn’t been here when I worked on the boys’ bedroom. I redid their entire floor, when they were so young they shared the room and my older daughter had the middle bedroom. There was no way this trap door could have been there when we moved in. There’s also no way it could be going where it’s going. My sons’ bedroom sits over the kitchen, but the kitchen has an addition in the back where we keep the laundry machines. This spiral staircase would theoretically be going right down into it.
Except it’s not. I’ve got pretty good spatial perception, so it doesn’t take me long to figure out that this very narrow little column is going between the two houses, at the edge where the kitchens meet the additions. I don’t know how it’s possible that I missed it. I’ve done so many renovations in this house. This is crazy.
The spiral staircase goes down underground and into a tunnel, which is not one of the tunnels my son and I dug to connect all the basements in the neighborhood. Technically this tunnel isn’t even in my basement; the foundation only goes as far as the original house, so the additions have no basement. This tunnel goes under my deck, then deeper underground, then turns, and comes up…
Ok, this is super weird. It’s a buried pillbox. This is like a basement, except what if your basement had a roof of its own rather than just being part of your house, and it was sticking out of the ground about two feet, with a lot of windows, and it was the size of maybe two rooms in your house put together, and it was at the back of the yard belonging to the neighbors with a swimming pool.
The room is mostly empty. There are tools, and some very iffy towels, and several empty beer cans, and a bottle of Windex and a really nasty roll of paper towels with spiderwebs all over it. I ask my son, “Did your brother know this was here?”
“I don’t know. If he did, he never mentioned it.”
“How long has it been here?”
“I don’t know, I just found it!”
There is no door, aside from the one we came in, and no staircase up to the ground level, but I open one of the windows and squirm through.
The fence around the neighbors’ swimming pool is about five feet tall, so I can see over it. My neighbors are sitting on their swimming pool. I mentioned the father’s a chemist or something, right? He’s got these substances that you mix into your water to change its solidity. They’ve turned about three quarters of their swimming pool into a semi-solid – a little bit squishy, their feet are leaving footprints in it when they walk around, but it holds their weight – and the remaining quarter, they’ve left as water so they can dangle their feet. There’s an entire entertainment center sitting in front of the pool, including a huge CRT TV, a VCR and a dozen super old video game machines like the Sega Saturn or the Nintendo GameCube, protected from the rain by a shade umbrella. Nothing is protecting this stuff from the water from the pool, though. They’re watching The Little Mermaid. I lean against the fence, and my neighbors notice me. The chemist greets me. “What’s going on, man?”
“I just discovered that this structure you have in the back of your yard is connected to my son’s bedroom.”
“Oh, wow,” he says. He gets out of the pool. He’s wearing swim trunks, but aside from his legs, he’s completely dry, since he’s been sitting on top of his pool dunking his feet and watching The Little Mermaid with his family. “You didn’t build that thing?”
“No, I didn’t build it.”
“But you built the tunnels.” I like this guy; he discovered the tunnels shortly after moving in, but he thought they were great. He wanted to get chickens himself, but there isn’t room in his yard with the swimming pool. The roof of the underground structure is completely covered with planter boxes full of tomatoes, peppers, flowers, herbs, and rutabagas. I don’t know why they’re trying to grow root vegetables in planters, but there’s enough foliage that I can tell what it is. The sign doesn’t help, it’s in Spanish. For obvious reasons I can read “tomato” and “jalapeno” and “serrano” in Spanish, but not “nabo sueco”, which probably means rutabaga because that’s what’s planted there.
“Yeah, a few years back, but I had no idea this thing was even here. Most of the tunnels go directly between the houses, not under the back yards.”
“Cool. I thought it was yours, but I didn’t know for sure. Can I go inside?”
“Well, there’s no door, but if you want to come to my house we can go down the staircase from my son’s room.”
So we traipse back over to my house, and then up to my son’s bedroom, down the stairs, through the tunnel, and into the empty underground structure. “This gets a lot of light for a thing underground,” he says. “A lot of windows.”
“It’s nice. I don’t know what it’s doing here, but maybe I’ll install some doors to give you and me privacy, and then make a trap door in the roof. I might have to move your rutabagas, though. That way you can come in and enjoy the space, too. Maybe we’ll make it some kind of den. You play board games? Role-playing games?”
“Not in English, not the role-playing games. I used to have an 11th level paladin before we moved here, but I was playing in Spanish. Board games, it’s mostly been Chutes and Ladders or Monopoly or some shit like that.” His kids are younger than mine.
“Well, we can put some furniture down there if there’s a trap door to lower it through, and get some lighting in.” There’s only one lamp, a work lamp clipped onto one of the ceiling joists. Its bulb works but is very dim. There’s one power outlet in the place. I’m gonna have to trace it back to see if it’s my electricity or his. “Set up some board games, maybe a mini-fridge with beer and Coke. We could hang out sometimes.”
“Yeah, that would be good. You like zucchini? My wife has too much zucchini.”
“I don’t, but my wife loves it. I could trade you some eggs.”
So that’s how I made friends with the mad scientist guy down the block. No idea what company he works for but they make some crazy shit. That stuff that makes the pool solid? Amazing. I don’t know how he keeps it from circulating through the entire pool, though. Maybe he’s got underwater baffles up to control the flow.
I tell my wife about this thing, and she looks at me funny. “Uh, yeah. You built that.”
“I did not.”
“You did. You got drunk one night and you said you were gonna seriously screw with the woman who called Animal Control on us. Then you built a tunnel to her house.”
“How the hell did I build that entire basement structure thing?”
“Oh, no, that was already there. You just connected to it. Same way you connected to the city’s underground tunnels.” Yeah, truth is, my son and I didn’t really build the entire tunnel system under the neighborhood. There was already a tunnel the city made and we just dug connectors to everyone’s basement, few years back.
“When were you going to tell me about this?”
“Why would I tell you about it? You’re the one who built it. I thought you’d remember.”
Okay, maybe I need to control my drinking, but that was a stressful time, with that woman being responsible for me losing my two roosters to Animal Control. Roosters aren’t allowed in the city, because the city is sexist. Apparently I built the trap door, the entire spiral staircase, and the connecting tunnel in one night, and I made my wife, my boyfriend, and my ninja son help, and now I’m the only one who doesn’t remember it. That’s embarrassing. After that woman did that, and tried to stop us from rescuing our own chickens, my wife started anonymously harassing her and sending her moldy videotapes until she sold the house and left town. Gotta say I like the new owners a lot better.
I hang out with the scientist a couple nights a week, after we get some furniture in there. My wife goes swimming in their pool, but I’m not a big fan of swimming; I go to the bunker with him and we shoot the shit and drink some beers, while my wife and his wife talk about gardening and practice my wife’s very rusty Spanish. My wife learned about ten languages but isn’t fluent in any of them, although she can say “This beautiful green Earth will soon be mine!” in Japanese. Maybe she shouldn’t have learned so much of it from anime.
It’s not easy to admit to anyone that you’ve got a roach problem, let alone a new friend, but liquor lubricates a lot of conversational topics. Yeah, okay, so it’s not always beer we’re drinking. Sue me. I tell my friend about the roaches, and he tells me his company is working on this really amazing fantastic pesticide. It’s a fungus that destroys exoskeletons, and it infects bugs, and only bugs, and makes them do Cordyceps type bullshit where they crave light instead of hiding in the dark like verminous bugs usually do, so they come out where you can see them. Then you can kill them, or let the infection kill them. I’m kind of worried about zombie apocalypses but he assures me that the fungus cannot infect humans, or anything without an exoskeleton. That’s the only place the spores can grow.
That sounds awesome.
So we get some from him and we mix it with sugar and we put it down everywhere. Big rectangular squares around all the furniture. Up table legs and counter sides. All around the edges of the tables and the counters. We’re taking no chances. We pull out the dishwasher and oven and coat the bottoms and backsides of them. Normally this stuff would be scary expensive, but our pal is giving it to us for free – well, “free” meaning we’re giving him tons of ground beef from the cow we bought, plus weird organs because his wife knows how to cook them and me and my wife would have to google it, plus eggs. And my wife is helping his wife learn English, but that maybe doesn’t count because she’s helping my wife learn Spanish, so that’s a pretty even trade. We watch their kids sometimes too; we don’t have a swimming pool, but we do have practically every game machine released in the US and a couple that were Japan only, and a gigantic library of media on hard drive, most of which was legal. Well, somewhat legal. Well, a good bit of them, my wife borrowed from the library and then ripped to hard drive. The kids are not unhappy to come over our house, is my point.
By this point everyone is vaccinated and my friend’s workplace always was pretty safe because it’s a clean room, where people wear Tyvek suits over their entire bodies, and masks and goggles, long before Covid was a thing, and his wife doesn’t work and me and my wife work from home and their kids are still going to school online and mine aren’t going at all anymore. So we feel pretty comfortable sharing air even with Covid still going on. We’re seeing a lot more bugs, but my pal reminds me that that’s part of the goal of this stuff, to entice them to come out and bask in the sunlight so we can kill them more easily. His kids like to run through our house with water guns full of soapy water, shooting bugs (and each other, and my boyfriend, who plays with them). I don’t mind as long as they stay well away from the computer equipment and they clean up the water spills once they’re done. It’s free housecleaning. These kids are more helpful at keeping the place clean than my own kids have been in years.
Then we start to see clusters of the bugs stuck on the wall. It looks like spots of mold, but turns out to be mold-covered bugs sitting on the wall semi-stuck to each other. I’m allergic to mold. My friend says it’s not that kind of mold, am I allergic to mushrooms? And I point out, the spores, yes I am, because I used to grow mushrooms in my basement and they’d spray spores out every so often and my nose would run like it was training for a marathon. He’s chagrined, says he didn’t know, because yeah, of course these things are gonna come out in the sun and spray spores. Light makes them spore, that’s why the mold makes them want to go into the light.
So now I’m popping Zyrtec like it’s candy and there are more and more moldy bugs turning up. For some reason they really want to join up together, like the mold wants them to make a mold mat, so they all go stand next to each other, centipeedles and roaches and ants and fleas, all together. It’s getting flies and mosquitos and mealmoths, too; they don’t eat the sugar we mixed into the liquid suspension of spores, but if they land on the mold mat because they think it’s ordinary wall or floor, they’ll be joining it in a day or two. Spiders, too, presumably getting infected by eating infected bugs. It spreads outside because the house is porous and the bugs can go in and out; there’s a giant ant colony burrowed into the dirt walls of the tunnels I made a few years back, and those guys are coming up out of the dirt and making giant mold mats of ants on the sidewalk and in the grass. It’s pretty gross. My friend begs me not to tell anyone who asks about the product I used; apparently it was experimental and he could lose his job for giving it to me. Well, thanks, buddy, wish you’d warned me! He assures me this never happened in the lab. I’ll bet they didn’t have nearly so many bugs in the lab, and they were probably in terrariums or something where there just weren’t all that many bugs per habitat.
At the point where the outdoor walls start getting covered with mold mats made of ants and earwigs and the fleas that lurk in the grass waiting for unsuspecting cats to walk by, the city gets on my ass. Apparently my walls are covered with mold and I need to clean them off, it’s unsanitary and releasing spores. “You think?” I say with my red, teary eyes and in between violent sneezes as I fish for more Kleenex in my pocket. I cannot actually get anywhere near the mold mats, not without a full on respirator. We have N95 masks and safety goggles, but I try those things and a. the safety goggles immediately fog up so I can’t see and b. it doesn’t help, the spores are getting into the safety goggles and getting into my eyes anyway.
My wife, my boyfriend and the friend-who-got-me-into-this-mess step in to help out. They’re spraying the mold mats with bleach, which would kill the bugs even if the mold hadn’t killed them yet, and scraping them off the walls with shovels and brooms. The ones they find in the yard, they dig underneath and cover them with dirt, then copper fungicide because, unlike bleach, that won’t kill plants that try to grow in the dirt. My friend has some more weird chemicals he thinks might help, but frankly I’m done; I got centipeedles to kill the roaches and then I got this stuff to kill the centipeedles and the roaches and it’s just made matters worse. Everyone in the world is allergic to roaches but not nearly as badly as I am to this mold. I’ve graduated to Benadryl, and bourbon, which does nothing about the allergies except to help me sleep through them. My wife says I’m not supposed to drink while taking Benadryl but I ask you, how do you look at your walls covered with mats of dead bugs that are growing mold and not drink?
The ants apparently go everywhere. Other neighbors are ending up with mold mats on their lawn. This is getting out of hand. I joke about setting the neighborhood on fire, but my wife reminds me that setting mold on fire just spreads spores.
So that gives me an idea.
We’ve got this water main that’s been broken for, oh, ten years now. The city keeps coming out to fix it and it just doesn’t fix. First it was up the street, pouring water down our street for years, winter and summer, which meant the road would turn into a slick sheet of ice every winter. Then they fixed it so that now it forms a pond in the median right outside my house. Maybe eventually they’d have stoppered that up too, but they left a backhoe on the median and somebody stole it. Not me or my family, for once; we checked the cameras but they weren’t pointing at the backhoe so we never figured out who did it. Anyway, mold likes damp, but things that like damp don’t necessarily like serious amounts of water, right?
My friend and I hook up pipes to the broken water main, and connect them to hoses, and connect the hoses to pumps, and pull all the water up the street to some of the neighbors behind my house who paved their back yards. We empty out the furniture from the underground room and clean out our respective basements, first, and park the cars up the street on the hill above all this. Then we let the water go.
This floods the neighborhood.
Yes. Again.
Everything below the level of where we’re pumping the water main to gets flooded. Yards and basements fill with water and wash down the hill to the river, which is really more of a cranky little creek most of the time, and the river washes it all down to the bay, where it should be diluted to the point where it won’t hurt the crabs. My friend assures me that this mold was bio-engineered to not be good at handling a lot of water. It can drown, too, even its spores. If they’re floating in water and they encounter a crab, they won’t be able to germinate on its shell. This is very important because around here we love our crabs. Of course, all this disturbed some local ghosts – ghosts don’t like flooding – but honestly I feel like it’s just negligence if you still have ghosts. We had all those floods a decade ago, like the one my car floated off in, so everyone should have known by now that there are ghosts in the area and they don’t like floods, so get them exorcised pre-emptively. It’s kind of like not having fire extinguishers in your house, if you don’t get the exorcism done.
We go around to any of our neighbors with a mold mat on the walls, and spray it off with a power washer. So far thankfully none of them have ended up with mold mats inside their houses, which just goes to show you how much the gods hate my house. We do not admit that any of this is our fault, just being good neighbors and helping out, but unfortunately my neighbors know me too well.
So this is great. Our animals are free of fleas, there’s no flies or mosquitos around for once in our lives, the mealmoths and the roaches and the centipeedles are gone, there’s no ants. And this is true all over the neighborhood. The bees seem to be fine; bees seemed to know not to land on the mold mats, and we didn’t poison with sugared fungus outside, so there was nothing to attract them to the fungus. Wasps, unfortunately, are fine too, but fuck it, they’re pollinators and I have fruit trees so I guess that’s okay. So this all ought to be great, right? Everybody happy, the whole neighborhood free of bug pests?
The city is now fining me out the ass for “stealing water”, even though come on, it’s bubbling up from the broken water mains so much it made a mosquito-growing pond, and I’m the one who got rid of the mosquitoes. (For the larvae in the pond, we just used mosquito dunks, plus our stunt temporarily drained the pond.) My neighbors are suing me for various things, including pain and suffering, water damage to their yards, riling up ghosts, and the death of so many poor innocent little buggies. (Are you kidding me? There are people around here actively mourning the deaths of flies and roaches. What the hell is wrong with people?)
And that is why I have posted this GoFundMe. Because I got rid of an entire neighborhood’s worth of bugs, at least for this year – no illusions about them coming back next year now that we’ve washed away all the spores – and people are suing me for it. And I’m not willing to throw my chemist friend under the bus legally, since he could lose his job, so the defense “this guy told me it was okay” is not gonna help. And everyone who wanted to get into the cloud when Covid hit already has by now, so business is not exactly booming anymore. Anybody want to help a guy out?
10 notes · View notes
styxnbones · 2 years ago
Note
(gehenna-calling) LET’S GET SOME DANNY FACTS! 🐁 👎 🤝 🎒 🎭 🔪
🐁 Capybaras are friend-shaped. What shape does your OC have?
I think Danny certainly tries to be friend-shaped, even if he sometimes comes off as over-familiar. In my mind he's like Excitable Little Brother -shaped.
👎 Is there someone your OC can’t stand, despite them being on the same side or sharing basic values?
Surprisingly, considering the reason I made him, not Kellen- that antagonism is purely a them-problem. I'd actually say they kinda can't stand Bernadette. They've already spent years studying under one stuffy old nerdy vampire and now they've been passed off to another suffier, older, nerdier, vampire. Talking to her is like conversing with a brick wall, and she's totally unresponsive to his attempts to ingratiate himself. Safe to say Kellen's idolization of her makes no sense to him.
🤝 Does your OC have someone they want at their side when they are scared? Who?
Danny is a total momma's boy. Despite having it pretty easy compared to a lot of fledglings, they've still seen some harrowing shit and just wished he could go home and hug his mom- of course there's no way they could do that without having to explain all the *gestures at his whole appearance* so he's had to get by with sneaking some phone calls behind his sire's back.
🎒 If your OC had to pick three things of all their belongings to keep, which would they chose?
Cell phone, wallet, jacket. The first two are just smart, the third is sentimental.
🎭 What is the one thing your OC regrets most? Would they undo it, considering how their life turned out?
Picking the college that he did. If they'd gone literally anywhere else Katie probably would have let him at least finish his degree before killing them. He's making the best of it now, and he knows she'd have gotten him eventually anyways, but I think he often wishes he'd had more time.
🔪 What does your OC think how they’ll die? 
Honestly, at this point, he doesn't really think he will. Danny is barely more than a fledgling and with a typical Kiasyd upbringing they've been pretty well sheltered from many of the dangers that face kindred- he's got a cushy job, easy access to a subdued herd, and with a beanie and some sunglasses they can pass pretty well as human. It also helps that the city he was embraced into has kind of fallen into the gaps in the conflict between the sabbat and the camarilla, so he's faced few threats from other kindred. If really pressed, they'd probably guess they'd slip up one day and some human would think they're an alien and have them dissected for science. All in all, they think Death already had their shot at him, and they missed. He's walked side by side with ghosts and figures if anything was gonna make him end up like that it would have happened by now.
2 notes · View notes
actualbird · 2 years ago
Note
merry xmas eve kuya zak!!!! sorry in advance if this is filled wiht typos i had my very first bottles of soju and san mig light tonight haha.
hope ur noche buena was fun <33 hope this year was good to u and i hope the next year is gonna b good to both of us
also if ur willing to divulge what was it first drinking experience like??? what did u drink and with whom and what did u feel the day after etc etc idk now that im tipsy i wan know how othe rpeople experience it
neway thank u for being here in general ur blog and ur fics brought me so much joy and im glad u made every wip and published fuc and every analysis and every silly and not so silly but sad headcanons
lotsa love !!!!
that one marikenyo In Ur Inbox All The Time
wahhh merry christmas, inbox-marikenyo :DDD!!! i saw this ask on christmas eve but during then i too was also drunk off a few cocktails and promptly passed out a little bit later orz
i had a great noche buena!! i kept falling into a food coma because i kept eating so much, as the lord intended <3 JHVSKJHFVSD. i hope you also had a great christmas eve and are having a lovely christmas day today ^w^
and as for ur q, my first Real drinking experience was at a party i went to on my last year of college actually in 2020 right before the pandemic hit omg, kinda "late" by some people's standards. i say Real drinking experience, cuz prior to that party i did drink sometimes, but never enough to get drunk!
at that party though, i was with my girlfriend and it was the party of her college org and i was continually handed drinks. i Definitely Got Drunk.
what did i drink? no idea. a mutual friend of my gf and i was mixing the drinks and i never ask whats in stuff, i just drink whatever tastes sweet enough or is drowned in enough soda that i can stomach the bitterness of whatever alcohol content is within.
how was i when i was drunk? the same way i am when i get drunk nowadays: absolute disaster jahsfvasfhasvkfjh. i tend to get loud and lose all my filter when im drunk. also clingy. two things i remember clearly at that party are
1 ) my girlfriend went to the bathroom and i sat on the floor texting another friend about how i missed my girlfriend So Much and i love her So Much. later, when my gf had to leave early before me, i loudly announced "IM GOING HOME, MY GIRLFRIEND IS GONE SO I DONT WANNA BE HERE ANYMORE"
2 ) i was talking to the mutual friend who was mixing the drinks and he was talking about how he plays billiards. i remembered how billiards gloves looked like (it's like a normal glove but two fingers are out in the open) and i said something along the lines of "oh my god so you wear the WHORE GLOVES. why are billiards gloves so fucking SLUTTY"
thats pretty much how i am when im drunk up to this day ajhfvajshf but i seldom drink enough to get to That point, basically only at parties since like, im not the one paying for the drinks LMAO. when i drink lots, i get drunk. but when i drink little, i just get sleepy.
and when i drink enough to get drunk, the next morning always has me regretting Every Decision Ive Ever Made because i always...always....forget to drink water the night before....people around me try their Best to hydrate me while im drinking, but i get stubborn and forgetful and when im handed water i just put it down instinctively and look for something sweeter and usually with alcohol in it and im caught in a vicious cycle that ends with a fuckoff terrible hangover
but it's nothing a soft boiled egg breakfast cant fix HAHA
hope that answered ur q :DDD!! and thank you for the well wishes and the kind words ;v; im really glad that the stuff i make here can bring joy, and i really hope i can make more things in the future
sending u all the love too, inbox marikenyo!!!
3 notes · View notes
cryxngxnrxd · 1 year ago
Text
Just wanted to add to this that one of my college lecturer had passed away just today. He was fighting lymphoma and was honestly such an amazing person to have been around.
He had kept a strict face around me but soon it faded to casualness as we began to bond about the doctor's chicken scratch writings and me asking about his experience in the Physiotherapy field.
I guess what hit me the hardest is how he had this vision and drive to finish his Masters and he was supposed to work at this new hospital. He was so excited and I felt the same for him too.
But I'd never forget the most how he had taken the time to understand and be sympathetically understanding about my chronic illnesses and how he had stepped in to cover for me every single time.
Sir Fadzley told me to lay down and take a break by just letting me sleep for an entire hour before waking me up and asking if I was okay.
He was also definitely one of the people who was the most concerned when my dad's case happened and even stood by me after all that happened. He's sincere and hard working and I dont ever doubt for a second that he had tried his best so much.
I think him battling his lymphoma was something that resonated within him when he heard just how it is like to battle my chronic illness and trauma on top of it.
As the day went by, I saw him become more and more pale and unwell. By Friday, he was already admitted to the hospital and had been on MC ever since then.
I think the biggest regret is not making it to the hospital to see him and send my regards. Here I am laying down and feeling so... Odd.
Him and I weren't even that close.
But I knew him. And I knew that he was a person who was kind to me.
Even until now, it's hard to process his passing. I wish I could've seen him atleast.. The guilt is so heavy.
He should've been working in the new hospital.. Working and completing his Masters too.
God, it's just so unfair.
I can't even say rest in peace or it'll sound too real.
You're gone and I didn't even say a thing or see you to thank you properly.
I really am going to miss having you around, especially for graduation.
Thank you for teaching me everything I needed to learn.
I'll carry on your wish if it's the last thing I do.
Thank you for everything, Sir Fadzley.
hey, don't cry. one cup heavy whipping cream, two tablespoons granulated sugar, three tablespoons cocoa powder and whisk until stiff peaks form for three ingredient chocolate mousse, okay?
139K notes · View notes
thelatebloomerdiaries · 6 months ago
Text
5.30.24 Papasan tears, failures, and regrets
As I sit here in my papasan chair all I can do is cry. I have a family, but not one of my own.
I have a job that barely pays and is really hard on my body
I have such an overwhelming feeling of failure, sadness, devastation, and some regret/envy.
Failure - because I'm not where I want to be and I've made so many mistakes
Sadness- because I feel behind and hopeless.
Devastation - my dreams of being a "young mom" are gone I had a boyfriend, but a bare minimum kind of guy
Regret - that I didn't go to college, that I didn't break up sooner, that I haven't moved out, that I've never been stable.
Envy - I look and see the lives of many people who have negatively impacted me and they're living my dream. The family, the house, the everything and every time I try I just fail. I feel useless and I'm crying in my room in my parents home in my 30s with less than $200 in my account, a useless degree, and I am just so numb that I can barely even cry. I self-soothe through my labor intense job, watching shows, and sleeping my life away. A small part of me in the back of my mind hopes, prays, wishes, and feels like my life is destined for more, but the evidence thus far does not support that little inkling at all. I can feel myself giving in to the idea that giving up doesn't sound so bad and that my life is over, I'm a loser, I can't win and I feel shame for posting such positive messages because I stopped believing in myself and my dreams a long time ago. I self soothe by eating copious amounts of sugary, bullshit foods that make me feel like shit. I am hurting and I just want the pain to stop. just stop. I feel like my parents are getting old and they'll never see me amount to anything . I feel sick, lost, depressed. I feel this and nothing all at once. It's been months since I cried myself to sleep, I guess tonight's as good as any.
Sad nights of a former emo kid
All day she sits on her bum
Her heart is heavy her brain being numbed
by tales and stories of distant places
She escapes to in her mind to better spaces
Places where she can fly and sore
Places where her feelings are more
than lonely and sad
shameful, and bad
ugly and fat
poor and useless
She use, escapism to a familiar trope
So hopefully it'll save her from a rope
Or pills or bullets or some other method
She hopes that the stories distract her from praying for her deathbed
too broke to adventure outside of Netflix, and stories
She sits all alone and just tries not to worry
Stories of heroes that she wish she could be
but alas she'd rather escape to another story
0 notes
theramblinghockeydude · 1 year ago
Text
Remembering
Today would have been your birthday. I wish I could give you a call, wish you a happy birthday and then drift into conversation. You have been on my mind a lot recently. When you passed...I don't know, I feel like I didn't actually process it, like it wasn't something that registered in my mind as actually having happened. I was out of it dude, life had gotten the best of me and I was shutting down and going through the motions of living. Now that I am here and I am beginning to live again, the stark realization that you are gone has hit me like a ton of bricks.
There is so much I regret. I wish I had been stronger at the time and been able to process things and reach out to your family and let them know how saddened the news of your passing made me and to let them know how much your friendship meant to me over the years. Given my state of mobility I wouldn't have been able to attend your service either way, but at least I could have talked with people and let them know, but I didn't and that is probably going to stick with me for the rest of my life. I don't know why we drifted and stop keeping in touch. I do know that so many times over those years I wanted to pick up the phone and call you and say hello but for whatever reason I couldn't. I thought you wouldn't want to hear from me and then time just kept on passing and it gets harder and harder as that time passes to pick up that phone...so I didn't. You were one of my best friends, maybe even my very best friend and I didn't even know your children. I hope they are doing well in life. I am truly sorry that I let the years go by and didn't contact you and let us stay out of touch. I am sorry I wasn't there at the end.
I remember the first time we hung out. You called me up and asked if I wanted to "take in a flick" as only you could. You were new to our school as a freshman and you definitely walked to the beat of your own drum, but there was something that drew me to you and made me want to be your friend. We went to see Dirty Dancing that night, and although that was not my first pick of movie to see as a freshmen in HS with your buddy, it was still a good time and I knew from the day on we would be friends.
i remember many Saturday nights spent in your basement watching WWE and Saturday Nights Main Event. We went to so many of the AWA shows at the auditorium and the few WWE shows that came to Minot. The Ultimate Warrior at the All Seasons Arena. Hulk Hogan at the State Fair. I will never watch wrestling without thinking of you as that was kind of our thing for a while and we had some great times.
The concerts we went to. Damn Yankees and Bad Company in Bismarck. Def Leppard in Bismarck when they did there tour "in the round." You were always up for a good time and fun.
Our junior year of college. My year started out with so much chaos as to where I was actually going to be living and then things finally got settled and I had my own room and to celebrate that finally being resolved and also your birthday, we went to the races and stopped by the grocery store and got cake. We went back to my room and just chilled the rest of the evening and ate cake, cake is very important. I know that sounds like something so small and trivial, but after the start to the year I had it was just nice to be settled and in my own room...and I had my friend there with me.
When I would take my trips to visit the "Reds" in Minneapolis, I knew I always had a place in Fargo to stay on the way there and back if I so chose to.
The good times the 4 of us had together. The day with the video camera, the prank calls made from the coaches office during study hall, the photo session. We always had a good time and I am so glad to have been a part of those times and they are memories I will never forget because the the 3 of you were great friends and people that meant/mean a lot to me.
I remember the time we were in study hall...no, not the time you jabbed a pencil in Barb's leg, but, and I am not sure why, if it was just something you felt like doing or if there was a specific something behind it, but you passed me a note and on that note were the lyrics to the song "Thank you for being a friend."
You were unique, I can definitely say that for sure, but not in a bad way. You marched to the beat of your own drum and you were happy doing so. I know you grew to hate it, but I always loved the fake laugh and I know others that will back me up. You were a loyal friend and I knew I could always count on you.
Rest in Peace my friend and if you see my grandma in heaven give her a fake laugh, she probably won't know what to do with it, but that is ok...and ask her for some zucchini bars as well :) Thank you for your years of friendship and I am sorry that I played my part in letting us drift apart over the years.
1 note · View note
justsavy · 2 years ago
Text
Part 1:
T,
I didn’t even realize how much your first born looks like you until today. Today was the first time I saw him in person since he was about one, and even then I never got a good look at him. I just happened to be assigned to work in the children’s clinic at the medical center that day when your wife brings him in. I think he is four now and my god does he look like you. He had the cutest lil grin on his face with his bright blue eyes and ears that look just like yours. I can’t help but wonder what our first born would have looked like. Then our second, then our third, and so on and so on. I can’t help but feel a bit jealous of her and the life y’all have created together because that was suppose the be the life that we created together. High school sweethearts, marriage, college degrees, great careers, and then babies. Life just has the damnedest way of slapping me in the fucking face. But I guess that’s what I get for choosing my ex husband when I should have chose you. My first love, my first time, my first heartbreak, my first almost everything. I have only ran into you a number of times I can easily count on my two hands since I broke your heart about 5 years ago. Which of those, only a couple times making eye contact and to be honest, I’ve never seen as much pain, heartbreak, and hatred in those hazel eyes before, which makes it even more difficult to breath around you. All these years later and I can still clearly feel and remember us like it was just yesterday we said goodbye without even knowing it was going to be goodbye. I met with you not even a week before I got engaged, having no idea I was about to be engaged. I needed to see you and talk to you before I flew across the world for another man I was falling for. I was terrified to see you because I had no idea what you were going to say but either way, I was going to be leaving you with a shattered heart because there were only two outcomes to this: 1. You tell me you love me and will wait for me as long as I allow you too or 2. You will tell me you don’t love me anymore and wish me well. To be honest, I wish you would have gone with the second option cause then at least I still wouldn’t have hope for us and regrets. That day you told me you couldn’t be with anyone else because you couldn’t imagine your life without me and had hope we would get back together, I should have told you I felt the exact same and chose you, right then and there. But instead I tell you how much I still love you and want to be with you, but right now there is someone else and I have to give him a chance, I had to try or I would never know if I was meant to be with someone else because honestly at that moment, I didn’t know. I knew I loved you, I knew we could have been end game, I knew we could’ve had the life we always talked about, but I also knew how much pain and hurt you had caused me since I was 14. How ugly and pathetic you made me feel more times than I could count. I knew that wasn’t the kind of “love” I wanted or needed but I also knew, that wasn’t who you were anymore. You had changed so much since we had last broken up and you had been waiting on me all that time.. I knew in my heart if I gave you one more chance, you would have made up for every tear I shed over you all those years. It broke my heart to leave you that day, knowing how you felt but I knew I was going to come back to you.. that is until the most unexpected thing happened.. I leave the next week to go see the guy I had been falling for since meeting him that past summer, but I couldn’t tell how serious he was about me which made me question my feelings for him constantly. Was I falling for him or the idea of him? Why hasn’t he made it official yet if we basically act like boyfriend and girlfriend? I had so many questions about our relationship which is why I told him if he didn’t make it official the next time I saw him, then I just wanted to stay friends because I’m too grown for guessing games and I wanted something serious..
0 notes