#if little me who was down so bad over him in 1998 could see me now she'd be so proud

[pinkmoonmp3]

josh hartnett via instagram

[dollfacefantasy]

ROLE REVERSAL ♡

pairing: leon kennedy x fem!reader

summary: leon finds his old raccoon city uniform. instead of letting the past haunt him, he dresses you in it. it looks much prettier that way.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, masturbation, officer/criminal roleplay, handcuffs

a/n: for my leon babies, i hope you all enjoy <3

kinktober slot: day 5 - roleplay

The points of your heels click against the hardwood slats on the floor of the bedroom. Thin and elegant, the tips slick and triangular. Your boyfriend watches you waltz into the room from his spot on your shared bed. The sharp post at the center of the head board supported his hands, bound by a shiny pair of silver handcuffs.

"You're in a lot of trouble, Mr. Kennedy. Do you know why you're here today?" your voice asks, floating through the room in a seductive melody.

His eyes flit up and down over your figure. Your curves were clad in his police uniform. The spare one that hadn't seen the blood and guts of September 30th, 1998. The pale blue fabric remained pristine and bright. The golden badge on your breast glimmered as if Leon actually got to put it to good use. 

But he didn't have to think about that right now. Didn't have to remember how his life's dream had withered away with everything else in the nuclear blast. Instead he could look at you. How the cerulean polyester fits snug around your waist and chest. How you had the fabric tied into a little knot above your navel. How the pair of navy blue lace panties you had on below set off the light shade above perfectly.

A low whistle leaves his lips.

"No, sweetheart. But I gotta say, you look better in that old thing than I ever did," he responds.

A smile comes over your painted lips, but you still roll your eyes and stamp your heel.

"Leon!" you huff, "You agreed to do this, so you have to stay in character. That's not how you talk to an officer of the law."

"Oh, you're right. My mistake, officer," he says with a smirk. He clears his throat as if getting into character. "No. Not a clue."

That pleases you, and you continue walking towards the edge of the bed, your hips swaying with each step. A hair brush taps one of your palms. Your version of a night stick if he had to guess.

"I don't believe you. You've been a very bad boy. Committed a long list of crimes that should have you locked up for the next couple decades," you say.

As he watches your performance, he can't help but find you so cute. The way you speak, your attempt at taking control, is an obvious imitation of his cadence in intimate moments.

"Have I really?" he asks, eyes lazily drifting up to your face.

"Yep. But maybe, just maybe, if you give me some information about the people who put you up to it, we can make a deal."

"I'm not telling you a thing without my lawyer here," he says.

As cocky as he acted, Leon was already nude before you on the mattress. His pale skin almost glows in the dim orangey light of your bedroom. Scars trail across his abdomen that had become a little softer in the last several months. Brown hair dusts the skin of his tummy down to the collection of it curling above the base of his cock. His pretty cock, half-hard between his legs, just waiting for your attention.

You take advantage of his condition by ghosting the bristles of the brush over his v-line. The sensation tickles slightly. His hips twitch, and you see his dick jump at the faint touch to the sensitive area. 

"Why not? You can trust me, Mr. Kennedy. I just want to wrap this up as quickly as possible."

The broad end of your tool coasts over his stomach now, going up to his chest to tease his nipples before you swing it back down to the lower half of him. His heart beat picks up, and his blood starts flowing down south. Out of the corner of your eye, you see his length begin to stiffen.

"I'm not stupid," he says, his tone audibly huskier, "You never talk to the police without a lawyer."

Bringing your knee onto the edge of the foamy mattress, you boost yourself to kneel next to his immobile form.

"Normally I'd agree with you. But I'm different," you say. You come closer and swing your leg over his body so that you're straddling his lap, hovering above his cock. "Even though I believe you're guilty as sin, I want to help you."

His chest vibrates with the urge to groan at the feeling of your clothed heat so close to his aching shaft. "Why's that?" he chokes out instead.

"Because look at you. You're much more useful to me out here than behind bars," you say, reaching down behind and fondling his balls. The groan he held in before oozes from his mouth at the feeling. His cock kicks up now, resting against your center. You adjust to position the appendage between your legs. The cute pink tip stares up at you from where it peeks out of the junction between your thighs.

"That doesn't sound very professional, officer," he says. He has to remember that his hands are fastened above him because your hips call to him. The urge to squeeze them, to knead the flesh and smack your ass, boils in his chest.

You feel your clit starting to throb for his touch as well. The look in his eyes, the way his lips had parted to accommodate his breathing had you growing more and more damp by the moment.

"That, I never claimed to be," you say. 

You slide your hand down over your body, taking time to highlight the presence of his dated uniform. Your fingers slip beneath the waistband of your panties. A shuddery breath leaves your lungs as your fingertip slots between your folds and finds your needy bud.

Your digit glides through the small amount of arousal, beckoning more to coat your cunt. He watches with lust-blown eyes, the surface beginning to glaze with desire. You whimper, the sound so soft and delicate it makes him buck upwards.

"Patience. You don't get rewarded for insulting me," you say and lift yourself away from him.

"Oh c'mon, baby," he grunts, "Gimme a break. I didn't insult you."

"Nope. I won't help you out unless you ask me properly," you say, grinning at the prospect of him groveling.

You play with your clit a little more, chest puffing within the confines of his top. You tilt your head back, and your spine arches with the dull pleasure you're providing yourself.

"Fuck..." he breathes, "Please, officer."

"Please what?"

"Please touch me."

The words come out laced with an intoxicating note of desperation. Your head returns to an upright position, your eyes blazing onto him.

"That's better," you purr.

By this point, you'd worked yourself up enough that the cloth guarding your cunt was soaked, sticky and clinging to your center. You spread your legs and lower to press yourself against him. He moans when your warmth makes contact.

You begin moving back and forth in tiny strokes. He whines and tugs on his restraints. The feeling of the fabric against him burns in the best way. A whine comes from you too as the bump of his tip strikes your bundle of nerves.

"Such a pretty, obedient boy. I bet I can whip you back into a functioning member of society in no time."

Grinding down with more pressure, a symphony of blissed out noises erupt from the two of you. Your palms rest on his belly to support yourself while your hips do all the work. Forward, backward, forward, backward. Like a pendulum you swipe over him in rapid succession.

Humping feels good. It always does. But after a while more, you crave a deeper sense of satisfaction.

You pull your panties to the side and grab his leaky cock. It had been drooling precum onto his pelvis, but now, it was going to be tucked inside you. You rise up and then sink back down, eliciting a mewl from yourself and another deep groan from your lover.

"See what happens when you behave and follow the rules?" you whimper.

"Uh huh. Think I'll be a much better citizen after this," he mutters.

You start to bounce, moving up and down on his shaft. The ridges of his veins rub against your insides. A chill runs up your spine. Bumps prickle up over your skin despite its heated nature. Your skin claps against his while pants puff from nostrils.

He's not keeping it together under you much better. He'd already been pretty close from the stimulation you'd given prior to this. Being engulfed in your tight cunt's wet embrace didn't stave off release at all. His heels dig into the mattress and allow him to reciprocate your movements, thrusting up into you shallowly.

"Fuck!" you yelp when he strikes your spot. You ride faster, getting lost in the pleasure. It's getting too hot now, so you tug the police shirt off your body, your breasts swinging free. The cool air brings some relief, and you toss the garment to the floor without another thought.

"Gonna cum for me, babydoll?" you ask Leon, the playful pet name you call him resurfacing. The commitment to the roleplay had vanished with the disrobing of the costume.

"Mhm, almost there, sugar," he grunts.

You squeeze around him, pulsing as your hips swivel and roll. You feel yourself getting there too. Release explodes in you like a firework, bursting in the pit of your belly and fizzling outwards to everywhere else. Your movements become erratic and rhythmless, but you continue on.

Leon can't take the pressure your orgasm brings. You clenching around him is too much to bear and he blows his load inside you, filling you up with his cum. You work it out of him with a few more fluid movements.

As soon as the wave has passed and receded, you fall forward onto his chest. You don't pull off him or let him leave your insides. All you do is nuzzle his dewy skin and smack a few wet kisses onto the area.

"You did pretty good," he rasps, the look on his face ever-teasing, "If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were a professional."

"Oh shut up. You were into it," you huff and smile up at him.

Now you do climb off his body, reaching the floor and stretching your limbs. The next thing you want to do is go take a shower with your man, but you realize something and look over at him.

"Oh shit. Where did I put the keys to the handcuffs?"

[nausicaamusiclover20]

Okay weird request but here we go:

James x heavily tatted!reader (any gender you want)

James is getting his first tattoo (I think it was like 1998) and he starts to get really nervous before his first appointment

So the reader helps calm him down and reassure him during the entire appointment about how well he’s doing and how awesome it’s going to look

I hope you like it!❤

Ink to Ink

The studio was buzzing softly with the hum of fluorescent lights and the tattoo gun, a rhythmic sound that was both soothing and invasive. James could feel the energy shift in his body—the nervousness building up in his chest, creeping down to his fingertips. He was sitting in the tattoo chair, his body tense and uncomfortably still. Every tiny sound around him felt amplified—the scrape of the artist's gloves, the quiet clink of the equipment.

He'd always admired your tattoos, the way they seemed to embody everything you were—bold, confident, unapologetically yourself. But now that it was his turn, all that admiration felt distant, replaced by a steady pulse of anxiety.

"Are you sure about this?" James muttered, looking over at you. He leaned back in the chair, his arm resting against the armrest as the artist prepared the ink. The nervous energy radiating off him was palpable. He had the appearance of a man who could handle anything, yet right now, he looked like a deer in headlights.

"Of course I’m sure," you replied with a playful smile, your voice calm and steady as you gave his hand a gentle squeeze. You sat beside him, your heavily inked arms resting in your lap. Your tattoos, intricately designed, were your personal expression, each piece telling a unique story, and you knew exactly how powerful that feeling could be. You had seen it in your own life—getting tattooed was like adding a permanent chapter to a book that was still being written.

"Just... I don’t know," James continued, his voice trailing off. "What if it hurts too much? What if it’s not as cool as I think it’s gonna be?"

You tilted your head, catching his gaze with a reassuring smile. "James," you said, your thumb brushing across his knuckles in an intimate, grounding gesture. "You’re gonna be fine. You’re tougher than you give yourself credit for." You leaned closer, your face softening, your voice lowering. "And trust me, this tattoo is gonna look amazing. You’ll see. The pain? It’s nothing. You’re more than capable."

He glanced at you, his anxiety still clouding his face, but you could tell he was listening. He trusted you, which gave you a little more confidence in how to help him through this. You had to admit—it was a little endearing, watching him squirm in the chair like a nervous wreck, even though he was usually the one who was in control of everything around him.

"I don’t know," James muttered again, chewing on his bottom lip, and for a moment, he seemed like he was about to say something more. But before he could continue, the artist gave a little nod, signaling that everything was ready to begin. The tattoo machine hummed to life, and the buzzing filled the air.

James immediately flinched, his body stiffening like a board.

"Hey," you said gently, "look at me." Your voice was quiet but firm, making sure he focused on you rather than the needle. "Just breathe. In and out, slow. You’ve got this."

He met your eyes, and for a split second, he hesitated. There was something in his gaze, a flicker of uncertainty that you’d never seen before. Something deeper than just nerves. And for the first time, you saw a vulnerability in him, a crack in his armor that he wasn't used to showing.

You gave his hand a reassuring squeeze, this time a little firmer. "You’re stronger than this, James. You can do it. Just breathe."

The first few lines of the tattoo went by in a blur of buzzing noise and the scratch of the needle. James’ body tensed up again, but his breathing began to even out as he focused on your voice.

"See? Not so bad," you whispered, giving him a gentle smile. "It’ll feel like a light scratch after a while."

But he wasn’t listening to the pain or the tattoo gun anymore. There was something on his mind, and he finally seemed ready to let it out. He shifted in the chair, his eyes flicking nervously between you and the artist, but you could tell he was trying to push through the discomfort to say something important.

"I—" he started, voice tight and hesitant, but the words caught in his throat as he glanced down at his arm, his fingers gripping the edge of the chair. "I’ve... I’ve wanted to say this for a while now," he finally managed, his voice a little shakier than usual.

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued but also a little worried. "Uh oh, what are you about to say, James?"

He cleared his throat, trying to steady his voice. "I just... I don’t know if I can do this again after this one. Like, what if I’m not as cool as you with all your tattoos?"

You burst out laughing, shaking your head. "Oh my god, seriously? That’s what’s been stressing you out this whole time?" You lightly nudged him with your elbow, trying to suppress your giggles. "You’re gonna survive this, and you will be cool, no worries. Just focus on this first one, alright? You’ll be rocking a sleeve in no time."

James looked at you, still trying to look serious despite the smile tugging at his lips. "Yeah, but I swear, if my tattoo ends up looking like a blob after this, I’ll blame you."

"Don’t worry," you grinned, "I'll make sure it’s the best blob you’ve ever seen."

He rolled his eyes but couldn’t help but laugh along with you. "I swear, this is a disaster waiting to happen."

"Disaster? Look at me," you said with a playful wink, "I’m a walking disaster and I look awesome."

The tattoo artist gave a small chuckle, clearly used to dealing with the banter of nervous first-timers. "Alright, alright, let’s keep it focused, folks. We’re almost done here."

"Yeah, yeah, I’m focused," James grumbled, though his playful smile was still there, softening the tension.

You leaned back in your chair, happy to see his nerves melting away. "This is the worst part, I swear. You're doing amazing. And when it’s done, you’re going to look like a total badass." You flashed him a bright grin. "Just don’t blame me if you end up getting addicted to it and start showing up with more tattoos next time."

"That’ll be your fault, obviously," he shot back with a grin. "You’ll be the one enabling me."

You smirked and shrugged. "Hey, I’m just a bad influence. But trust me, by the time this session ends, you'll be ready for round two."

James snorted, shaking his head in mock disbelief. "I thought you were the one who wasn’t supposed to scare me. But look at you, setting me up for a lifetime of ink."

The tattoo artist finished the first part of the design, stepping back and wiping away the excess ink. "Alright, just a few more touches," the artist said, giving you both a nod.

James looked down at his arm, the tattoo now a beautiful, bold design slowly coming to life. "It’s already looking better than I imagined," he said quietly, and you could hear the pride in his voice.

"You’re doing amazing," you said, leaning closer to him. "You’re tough, and this tattoo? It’s gonna look awesome when it’s finished."

He gave you a crooked smile, squeezing your hand back. "Thanks. For everything. Really."

"You're welcome," you said softly, your fingers brushing against his again, a quiet promise between the two of you. "Now, let’s just get you out of here before you decide you want another one."

James shot you a playful look. "Don’t get any ideas. We’ll see if I survive this one first"

The tattoo machine hummed steadily as James sat in the chair, his hand still gripping yours. The tension from earlier had faded, but you could see him flinch every so often as the needle worked on his skin.

“You’re doing great,” you reassured him, your voice calm and steady. “It’ll be over soon.”

James managed a small smile, glancing down at the ink slowly taking shape. "Yeah, it’s not as bad as I thought." He shifted again, trying to get more comfortable. "I honestly thought I’d be losing my mind by now, but... I’m fine."

“You’re tougher than you think,” you said with a gentle squeeze of his hand. "I told you, it’s just a little sting. And it looks amazing."

He glanced up at you, a bit of his usual confidence coming back. "I didn’t expect it to feel like this, but... I guess I can handle it." He paused and then added, a little cheekily, "Maybe I’ll get another one after this."

You raised an eyebrow. "Already thinking about the next one?"

James laughed softly, his nervous energy easing into something lighter. "Yeah, I didn’t expect to feel this way about it. It’s... kind of nice, like something permanent about me."

You smiled at his words, watching him as the artist worked. "Exactly. It’s yours, a mark of who you are."

As the session went on, you saw him relax even more, the tension melting away as the tattoo came to life on his skin. With the final touches being done, James flexed his arm, inspecting the finished design.

“Looks... better than I imagined,” he said quietly, almost in awe.

You smiled, leaning closer. “I told you you’d love it.”

James turned his head toward you, his expression softening, and you could see the pride in his eyes. "Thanks for being here. I wouldn’t have made it through without you."

His words made you smile, and without thinking, you leaned forward and kissed his cheek lightly. "I’m proud of you," you whispered.

James blinked in surprise, his cheeks coloring slightly. "Well, I’m glad you think so. Guess I’m officially part of the tattoo club now."

You chuckled softly, squeezing his hand again. "Definitely. And who knows? Maybe you’ll be back for more."

He laughed, now fully at ease, his earlier nerves gone. "Yeah, I think I might be."

You both looked at his arm together, a bond of shared moments and new experiences now marked on his skin.

[sapphire-weapon]

Leon, in the intro to RE4make:

"September 30, 1998. It's a day I'll never forget. The cop inside me died that day."

---

Officer 1: So, tell me, Yanqui. Why did you come to this horrible place? As close to nowhere as I've ever seen.

Leon: Let's just say... looking for someone.

Officer 1: That someone must be very important, eh? The Chief gave the orders himself. "Help him," he said.

Leon: I'm sure you boys didn't come all the way out here to roast marshmallows.

Officers 1 & 2: (laugh)

Leon: (annoyed) Maybe you did.

Officer 1: You have a strange sense of humor. I'm gonna let you in on a little secret. Just between us. A lot of people have gone missing around here, and it's been that way for a while, now.

Leon: (still annoyed) Well, then. Should be just another day in the office, right?

Officer 1: Mmm... I mean, last week, there was a search for some missing hikers.

Leon: (sarcastically) I'm sure you'll do your best to help me.

Officer 1: (laughs)

[...]

Leon, much later in the scene: So much for helping me.

---

Leon, later in chapter 1:

(bitterly) "Gotta fix everything myself."

---

Leon tells Ada in RE2make that the reason why he went into law enforcement was to help people like Kendo and his daughter -- vulnerable people, good people, members of the community who are facing the worst moments of their life and need someone to help make it right.

And yet he says in the intro to RE4make that the cop inside him died that day. When we take that in context with what he told Ada about Kendo, what he means is that his desire to help people died that day. The belief that he could help people died that day.

His faith in humanity died that day.

Leon goes into his mission to save Ashley already expecting the two local officers that he's with to be completely fucking useless, and he gets immediately annoyed at the first hint that they are. His "So much for helping me" is said with a sense of "Why am I not surprised?"

He went into RE2make believing that people are generally good and that things will work themselves out.

He goes into RE4make believing that people are generally selfish and will take advantage of him, leaving him to work through any problem that arises on his own.

This is why he's so supremely pissed off at Ada when they meet back up again, and it's also why Ashley is so integral to his character arc. It's also why I've said in the past that Ada is a foil for Ashley in RE4make.

(NOTE: A foil is a character that is set up in the narrative to directly contrast with another one. Where one character is deficient, the foil character is strong, and vice versa. Where Ada is cold, Ashley is warm. Where Ada is physically capable, Ashley is defenseless. Where Ada is secretive, Ashley is honest. Where Ada is calculating, Ashley is impulsive. A foil does not necessarily exist to make one character seem better than the other; a foil exists to showcase two equals using a different approach and receiving different outcomes as a result.)

Ada is the genesis of Leon's cynicism. She's the reason why he expects less than nothing from people anymore -- the reason why he goes into every social interaction waiting to be screwed over. And she reinforces this throughout the narrative by trying to tear him down ("Leave the girl. She's lost no matter what.") or by keeping score ("Happy to help. Now you owe me.") -- which she takes even further in Separate Ways ("Don't worry, Leon. First time's free.").

In the six years since her initial betrayal, Leon has been forged into a weapon by the US government. The kind-hearted boy from RE2make who wanted to save the world now is more comfortable shoving a knife in the throat of an old woman than he is with carrying on small talk with people.

But weapons on their own are neither good nor bad. It's how they're used that determines that. Up until RE4make, Leon has been surrounded by extreme violence and senseless death (that's the point of changing Operation Javier btw), and he doesn't see a way in which his status as a weapon could possibly be used for good.

Until Ashley comes into his life.

If there was ever anyone who had a good reason to take Leon for granted and take advantage of him, it's Ashley -- but not only does she not do that, but she goes out of her way to make herself useful without expectation or strings attached. The only thing she ever asks for in return is a "thank you."

So, every time she gets that "thank you" -- every time she gets a real smile out of him -- she's returning pieces of his humanity to him. She's healing the hurts that Ada and the CIA inflicted on him so many years ago. She's showing him that there's still some good in this world, and it's worth fighting for. She's worth fighting for.

When Leon says: "This time, it has to be different..." he's not talking about his inability to save anyone in Raccoon City. That's a very surface-level interpretation. What he's referring to there is that Raccoon City destroyed his faith in humanity, ruined his image of himself, and poisoned his ability to create meaningful connections with people.

That's what has to be different this time. That's why the full line he says in the intro is: "If I could just forget what happened that night... the pain, even for a second... This time, it can be different. It has to."

RE2make took so much from him, but Ashley spent the entirety of RE4make giving so much of it back. But if she were to die in his arms in chapter 15, that hope and that healing would die with her. Her death would be a reaffirmation that everything that Leon wants or hopes for in this world isn't real, and that reality is nothing more than a series of random tragedies and chaos that results in suffering.

Ashley re-teaches him how to trust in people again, how to work as part of a team again, how to feel good about his own actions again. She teaches him how to hope again.

Ashley is the first person in six years to care about whether Leon gets or feels hurt by her actions. The most important line of dialogue spoken to Leon in the entire game is "Stay back! I might hurt you again..." as Ashley openly sobs over the mere thought of it.

Juxtapose that beside...

During the boat scene, Ada asks Leon in response to whether or not she's changed, after all of the damage she's already inflicted on him: "What do you think? Don't think too hard."

And so, in the ending, Leon answers: "I think we both know that this is where we go our separate ways."

Because, this time, things were different.

Because, this time, his partner was Ashley.

[chimivx]

TASTE. -> 'Haven' from the POV of Hyunjin. (Part Six of Six)

summary: 1998 is his year. He's sure of it. (With a bonus snippet of the future.)

word count: 12k

warnings: 18+, mentions of alcohol abuse, struggles with mental health themes, cursing, drug use mentions, sex is insinuated, physical violence between male friends is talked about, if I missed anything PLEASE LET ME KNOW!

a/n: I don't even know how to say goodbye to this. This has been two years of my life. Thank you to everyone who's been on this wild ride. <3

more about Beomgyu and his family in NMWID.

“You can take this, and you can sit down,” Felix’s voice carried through his kitchen, our kitchen, as he handed Seungmin a pitcher of water and waved him away. “You haven’t slept in thirty six hours, you’re nuts if you think I’m going to let you do too much.” Laughter followed, pulling a smile out of me.

From the kitchen table I heard Changbin reprimand the boy as well, telling him again and again how he’s been working too hard, too much. Glancing their way from where I stood at the counter plating a couple dishes, I couldn’t help but laugh. Seungmin had all eyes on him, and several different people doting on his every need. 

Felix, setting the table up making sure he had what he needed in front of him. Changbin, filling up his glass with water when he set the pitcher down. Jeongin, unfolding a napkin and laying it across his lap to protect the scrubs he hadn’t changed out of yet. Changbins girlfriend, Yeri, who he’d been seeing for over a year now fussed over Seungmins messy hair, jokingly brushing it away from his forehead like a mother. Jisoo, Jeongins new girl of a few weeks, sat back, watching the chaos unfold before her.

“You didn’t even change your clothes,” Yeri nagged, and Changbin agreed with her. The two were a perfect pair, Yeri knew how to match Changbin’s playful side perfectly. She plopped beside her boyfriend and narrowed her eyes toward the nurse. “Don’t tell me you haven’t eaten today.”

Seungmin, sipping his water, nearly choked, planting the glass down with persistence. “I didn’t change my clothes, you think I had time to eat!? Why do you think I’m here!”

Insistent messy chatter erupted once more, the table full of so much life my cheeks hurt from smiling. Taking the plates to the group I sat them down, the finishing touches, and relished in the happy sounds from every mouth. Wasting no time they dug in, letting Seungmin fill his plate first, taking turns helping each other with their portions.

Folding my hands in front of myself, I stood a foot away and watched them indulge. Taking in every smile, every compliment, every little piece of this evening that brought me comfort, and I pocketed it with the intention to remember it on a bad day. Seungmin, Changbin, Jeongin… Friends who stuck by me through the worst. The last two years that pulled me through the ringer, a challenge in every waking moment. Yeri, who slipped right into our dynamic with ease, becoming everyone's mother, and Jisoo who I’m sure will slip into a role at any minute. They were my people. My family.

And then, at the end of the table, an empty chair beside him, sat Felix. A smile resting on his lips he watched me watch them. The blonde, baby faced Aussie, love of my life.

A month after our decision to take our time we dove headfirst into the deep end. Neither of us could help ourselves, certainly not when you spend every waking second together. Though, I won’t lie, the beginning was rough.

After Minho fought dirty and I was able to go home, Felix took me to my apartment. Changbin followed and helped us inside. Once things were deemed safe, and I was somewhat okay, he headed out for the night knowing I had Felix to look after me. I had a shower, that I’m ashamed to admit Felix took with me, a platonic shower. Nothing happened, he may have kissed me, and I may have kissed him back, and I may have had to sit on the edge of the bathtub because it was hard to stand for so long, but it doesn’t matter!

He helped me into bed and he laid with me, and I watched him fall asleep. Those long lashes brushing his freckled cheeks tore me to pieces. That night they weren’t enough to keep me where I was supposed to be, in bed, next to him.

Awake for hours, my mind raced, thoughts I couldn’t even begin to put together now that I’ve worked them out with Namjoon, the therapist I’ve been seeing for two years. He’d been able to fix most of what had happened, even though Felix tells me it was I who did the work…

The thoughts were coming toward me rapidly, faster than ever, and we still don’t know if it was purely just a panic attack or if it was the aftereffects of what had happened to me, and the oxygen to brain thing. I was near hallucinating, hearing my father, seeing him… Wondering if the fight had really been between Minho and I, or he and I… Your mind is the scariest place to be trapped in.

Living through this before, I knew only one way to cope. And it wasn’t by waking Felix up. 

I snuck out of bed, almost toppled to the floor, and inched my way into the kitchen to that goddamned cabinet that was still full of my vice. Felix will tell me he found me before it got too bad, I don’t really remember anything after rolling off my mattress. Part of me thinks he’s saving my feelings by telling me it wasn’t bad, and that he himself doesn’t want to relive it by telling me the truth.

I forgive him for that. 

We ended up in the emergency room anyways, so protecting my feelings or not I know it was awful. The only thing he’ll tell me is that he took me there because he loves me, and they were the only people capable of keeping me safe. I stayed there for a few days, and then I was sent back home.

Great system. Really, really great system.

It felt like I had been thrown straight back into the nightmare I had been living for a year. Sleepless nights, unable to leave the apartment, drinking myself unconscious… Was a wonder why Felix signed himself up for this trainwreck so quickly. Through the start of my hours in therapy it soon came to my realization that Jade was never the main issue like I had thought she was.

Did she cause some of my distress? Yes.

Did I cause most of her distress? Yes.

Did we both deserve that? No.

The main, huge, horrific issue that bitch slapped me across the face was my childhood. A topic that took months to unravel, and is still being unraveled. A terrible thing to uncover and relive, truly.

But, I’ve been sober for three months now so something must be working.

I find joy in having my friends, our friends, over for dinner once a month. Moving into Felix’s home at the start of this year it was his idea to start the tradition, to keep us all close. No one found interest in Haven anymore, so it was a win win. Our home became the spot for them to loiter, the couches for them to snooze on, the fridge to raid. And we loved every second of it.

It brought me genuine joy now that I could process it clearly.

Felix pulled out the chair beside him and wiggled a finger at me toward him. Giving him a small smile and a nod, I backed up to the fridge first to grab us drinks, not realizing Jisoo had beaten me there. She let out a quiet laugh as I bumped her with my back.

“So sorry,” I breathed, whipping myself around, taking an appropriate step back. Flashing me her heart shaped smile she shrugged it off.

“You’re good,” she pulled the fridge open and quizzed the selection with narrowed eyes, flashing me a look. “What are you drinkin’?”

Folding my hands over my front like they had been, I tilted my head and said, “I can grab it, don’t worry.”

A smirk grew on her pink lips as she eyed me. Reaching into the fridge she fumbled with a box for a second, then handed me a beer before grabbing two for herself. “Here, it’s Jeongin’s favorite, try it. We brought a whole case, he won’t miss one.” With a quick wink and a push of the fridge door, the crop top, jean wearing girl with long dark hair sauntered away, leaving me with an ice cold bottle of beer in my hand.

She’s lucky beer wouldn’t be my first choice.

It did look good though, the label talking about some brand new flavor supposed to be as crisp as ever… The brown tint of the bottle was all too familiar. It was a twist off, too. We didn’t have any bottle openers in the house. This one would pop right off in my hand. It’d be cold going down, and if the label told me the truth, it’d chill me out in seconds.

But, I didn’t need to be chill right now.

I was already chill.

She put this in my hand without knowing a thing. Our friends were allowed to bring their own drinks over, knowing we never kept any in the house, we allowed them to bring what they wanted as long as it left with them. No one offered me any, no one made a big deal over where to put them or whether or not they had to hide them. 

I could control myself.

Changbin has lessened what he drinks around me, but I don’t force him to stop completely, he’s done that on his own. He tells me he’s started doing it for himself, but I know after watching me do what I’ve done I’m the reason why. Seungmin never really enjoyed drinking, but he’d have one occasionally if the day was special. Jeongin, the youngest of us all, compared to Changbin.

And Felix, he’s been sober since that one night at Haven where the two of us were first shoved within that tiny bathroom stall.

Opening this, drinking it, would undo three months. This is the longest I’ve gone without a single sip since I was probably fifteen years old. I felt proud of myself. It felt like a major accomplishment, and everyone around me seems to think so as well. On the date, Felix took me to dinner. Changbin and Yeri called, Seungmin stopped by before his nightshift, and Jeongin got to me a day or so after when he could make it by the house. He brought me pink frosted cupcakes and couldn’t stop hugging me.

I was going on month four. If it was to end with dinner with my boyfriend, phone calls and hugs from my best friends and pink frosted cupcakes… I wasn’t about to fuck it all up.

A deep, beautiful, lilted laugh from the table confirmed my decision.

I popped the beer back in the box and grabbed two cans of Sprite, then hightailed it over to my gorgeous boy. Pressing a kiss to his head, I cracked his open and slipped it into his hand. Amidst the chatter he glanced at it, smiled, then looked up at me. 

This was what we’d bring each other in moments of gratitude. A reminder of all we’ve done, all we’ve been through, all we continue to get through, day by day. An ‘I love you’ of sorts.

Major props to Namjoon for suggesting we implement something special into our lives for occasions where words won’t give it justice. Something only Felix and I would understand.

Bending over halfway, my hair shielding his face from the room that paid no mind to us, I caught his smiling lips in a soft kiss, one that’d last me until the hours of night after our friends have gone, when I can finally take care of him in ways he always deserves.

Turns out he really is a good teacher.

“Got a question for you, better answer now!”

Changbin had a beer in his hand. On his feet, his chair pushed out from behind him, he held it in the air as the table sang back, “Yeah!”

Yeri sat backward, a hand covering her jaw as she laughed at her boyfriend, shamelessly singing along with him. Looking over at her Changbin pointed and shook his head.

“No, no!” he shouted, a shit eating grin on his face. “You’re the one who loves them so bad!” The three boys around the table were goners along with Yeri, unable to resist the energy Changbin filled the room with, their laughter loud and entertained. A smile rested on my lips, I didn’t sing along, but I was enjoying the show.

“Am I original?” Changbin leaned toward Yeri, acquiring his ‘Yeah!’ from the people who actually listened to this song. “Am I the only one?” Another ‘Yeah!’ sounded around the room, and with each word he closed in the space between him and Yeri. Then, he slipped around the back of her chair running a hand through her hair before he popped next to Felix, laying his head on his shoulder as he gave me a funny look. “Am I sexual?”

Raising my brows, my laughter finally cracked through, his aim of the game. I joined in the final ‘Yeah!’ and he shouted with glee. I wasn’t dumb, I knew who the Backstreet Boys were, Felix was obsessed with them much like Yeri was. He loved Kevin Richardson, or whatever his name was, which blew my mind because Nick Carter is right there. Not that I paid attention to it or anything.

“You like this song.” Felix’s smile still had the power to flip my stomach in cartwheels. Changbin hummed from his shoulder and pursed his lips. 

“Do not,” I huffed, looking around the table. Jeongin sipped his beer and hummed the rest of the song to himself and Seungmin who took part in tapping the beat with his glass.

Changbin shared a devious look with Felix, Yeri giggling from her chair.

Together they both sang, “Rock your body right!”

Everyone sang, “Backstreets back…”

Lifting my gaze, planting it on my grinning, hopeful boyfriend, I raised my almost empty can and gave them what they wanted. “Alright!”

Felix lurched forward and grabbed onto my arms while Changbin held his up in triumph. “Hyunjin loves the Backstreet Boys!” 

“Do not!” I sneered at my best friend, a smile pulling at my lips the entire time. Working his way back to his seat, Changbin finished his beer and shot me a glare.

“Do too, Mr. Nick Carter,” he said. 

Seungmin smacked his hands together and laughed. “Are we shocked?” He gestured to Felix and the Aussie blushed. “He’s got a crush on that guy from Titanic, too.”

Felix giggled. “Leonardo DiCaprio.”

“Yeah, him,” Seungmin said, sitting back in his chair, folding his arms over his chest.

Jeongin narrowed his eyes, his attention on me. “Blondes,” he half whispered.

Holding up my hands, feeling my cheeks flush, I looked hurriedly from Felix to my friends in defense. “Whoa, whoa, hold up, I do not have a crush…” Felix took one of my hands in his.

“Darling,” he said, smooth as butter. My walls fell quick. “You have a type. And, you do have a crush on Leonardo DiCaprio. We went to see that movie in theatres three times, and I knew it wasn’t ‘cause it’s your new favorite love story.” He tried to copy my voice and got everyone to laugh.

Locked into his eyes, I nodded. “I do have a crush on Leonardo DiCaprio.” Felix danced a finger around my palm looking at me like a lost puppy.

“You do, don’t you?” he asked, and when I nodded again, our friends answered with laughter.

“That,” Changbin held out his beer toward us, gathering our attention. “I love that, when you do that.”

Jeongin snickered. “You mean when Felix makes him all gushy?” Seungmin and Yeri agreed.

Trying to shake his hands away I sat forward and furrowed my brows. “Hey!” I’d lost the bark in my tone over these last few months. Everyone will tell me it’s a good thing. “I do not get gushy, you jerks! I am still…” Seungmin cleared his throat and pointed to Felix with his eyes. Turning my head, Felix’s eyes were slightly wide, his brows somewhat flipped.

“Keep going,” he said softly. Sitting back, I shook my head a bit and reached for his hand. One graze of his thumb over the boney back of my hand and I was down for the count. Then, a smirk grew on his lips and he threw our friends a look of success. “Twice!” Laughter roared from every corner of the room.

Groaning, I took a hand to my forehead. I couldn’t hide my smile, I knew it, too. He had me wrapped around his finger. Leaning over to him as our friends tossed around the discussion some more, my lips ghosted his ear and I whispered to him a promise of what I’d do to him later if he stopped his teasing. I’d never seen him straighten out faster, his cheeks going pink.

The best part of it all, we were equally wrapped around each other's fingers.

“Who’s got a kid?” Jisoo called out as she rounded the corner into the kitchen from the dimly lit hall. Felix’s grip tightened on my hand ever so slightly, but it didn’t stop my heart from sinking into the floor. The girl wore an innocent smile, unable to read the room as she sat down beside her boyfriend, having only gotten up moments prior to use the restroom. Jeongin threw an arm around her shoulder, pulling her in, whispering paragraphs into her ear.

This poor girl must’ve not been briefed before she walked into the building. Her smile wiped away halfway through Jeongin’s lament.

Changbin held up his beer once more. “Mr. Hwang Hyunjin,” he said with pride. Yeri smacked his bicep, not that her tiny hands had any effect over his insane muscle.

Jisoo lifted a hand to her lips, her eyes going wide. “I’m so sorry,” she said, shaking her head, her gaze darting between Felix and I. Jeongin, lips pulled into his mouth, gave us an apologetic look. Seungmin simply refilled his water and watched everything go down. His eyes were heavy, he’d be leaving shortly if he wasn’t crashing on our couch.

To everyone's surprise, I was calm. Turning my chin to peek at my boyfriend who was studying me, I asked between us, “Jeonghan’s door is open?”

Tracing circles into my palm, Felix poked his tongue through his lips and bobbed his head. “I don’t think you closed it when you put his new clothes in there yesterday.”

The room was my choice. My decision. Everything that went on with it, my choice. I usually keep the door shut. These past few weeks I’ve been keeping it closed unless I’m going in to work on it, or add something, or fix something.

Most of his shelves were stocked now. Clothes, shoes, hats… Anything that made me think of him while I was out, I bought. He’s even got clothes for when he grows up, when he gets bigger. Some of my stuff is folded in his drawers, old clothes from middle school and high school I’d kept in my possession after all this time, just in case. 

I never knew what for. I wasn’t sure why I held onto the stuff that could somehow hold meaning until he was born. June 8th, 1997, the day I knew he’d be getting everything I own, everything that meant something to me. He deserved it all.

When I had moved out of my house before college I didn’t think to take anything with me other than what I had, what I owned personally. So many things that belonged to my mother, even my father, were all left behind, and now it's one of my biggest regrets. I have some photos of my childhood, some photos with my mother, but I longed to have something that belonged to her. Either something she wore, or something she loved.

Felix would reassure me and tell me how I am what she loved, and that’s enough, but I had plans to reach out to my family, her family, just one more time. Her younger sister, Jihyo, had to have something. If she did, Jeonghan would one day get that too.

Jeonghan. The name of my grandfather. My mother’s father. Essentially the man who saved me by sending me to college, getting me through years of school. The man who gave me my mother. Another regret… Not spending more time with him, or putting the effort in to see him more. Sometimes I wonder if my mother never got with my father would our story be different. She was raised on and around love, and ended up with him anyway.

Throughout this whole therapy process it’s been fun and somewhat bittersweet to learn how much I am exactly like her. 

I don’t want to know what she'd have to say about my situation now.

I feel like I can hear her when the days go quiet.

Get that baby back.

Don’t you leave that girl alone with your child, he’s yours too.

You can do this. You can make it through this.

Fight for him.

There wasn’t a day in my life that I’d ever think about one day becoming a father. It was never in the plan. And, when I didn’t have a plan, it was never a thought. Who in their right mind would want to have a child with me? Two years ago, who would want to have a child with me?

And so, she did.

It was last January, 1997, I was here in the house on the couch sipping on a cocktail beside Felix with the radio playing and the phone rang. I was too tipsy to get up and logically answer the phone, so Felix did it. The call lasted no more than thirty seconds, and he appeared in the doorway to the living room like he’d seen a ghost.

He had told me it was Changbin, and that he had just spoken to Chan. Bahng Chan, Jade’s best friend. He took my glass from my hand and sat next to me, taking my arms in his hold. Chan had spoken with Han, who had spoken to Minho. Jade was pregnant, and she didn’t know who the father was.

Apparently it had taken them a while to get a hold of us, and to this day I don’t know how much of that reigns true. If they hadn’t gone through the grapevine in true Jade and Minho fashion they would’ve gotten to us straight away. Then I learned it had something to do with the both of them not wanting to deal with me. At the time, even through my drunk blindness I could see how immature that was.

A week or so later I met Minho face to face for the first time since he tried to kill me, though he’ll say that wasn’t the case. Jade had accompanied him, and Felix accompanied myself. In a doctor's office, bright, white and sterile, I couldn’t look at her. I didn’t speak two words to her, and it wasn’t because I was hungover. Stunned by the whole idea that this child could belong to me, the one that already made a little bump in her belly… I couldn’t fathom it.

That night Felix almost had to take me back to the emergency room.

And so, he was mine!

Now, one would think she’d take the easy way out here and do what she had to do to be rid of me like I longed to be rid of her. Why would she do this knowing that for eighteen years we’d be connected? We hadn’t seen each other in five months, and sure they weren’t awesome five months, but they were better than they were. Not having to see or deal with one another was the best thing to happen to us.

Not for nothing, her boyfriend tried to take me out.

But, that wasn’t the case!

Things were a mess until he was born, and even after he was born things were a mess. Nothing got better until this summer. Three months ago. After two years of me only hearing things through phone calls she’d have with Felix we were standing side by side in the parking lot of the grocery store down the street from Haven. I was a tad tipsy, it was a bad time. I had bottles in a bag and I was about to get into the driver's seat and take myself home.

I can understand why she’s been the way that she’s been.

Jade tried to hand me over a child support agreement from her lawyer that she pulled out of her front seat. I didn’t even hear one word of her reasoning, or why she was attempting to involve me when she had been going through Felix all this time. In fact, I said that to her. Angry, I yelled. Alcohol in my system didn’t really help my case. I ripped the paper in half and threw it on the ground. Once I was in my car, the bottles in the passenger seat, I swallowed my nausea and broke down. I sat in the parking lot and cried for an hour.

That’s when I realized I was ready to move the fuck on. 

To grow the fuck up.

Only three months ago.

Jeonghan had a room, and I took care of it. Felix helped me when I asked and in turn would offer me a hand if it seemed I needed one- which was often. I could count on both hands how many times he’s snuck his way into the sky blue bedroom quietly and wrapped his arms around my waist and laid himself along my back to hold me while I cried. 

He read me the instructions when I was forty five minutes deep into building the crib that would flip into a bed whenever Jeonghan grew big enough. Felix left me in the room alone when I started to take the box apart, though I’d catch him tiptoeing by the door every so often. It wasn’t until I was on the floor, hair tied back tight, holding two different pieces of the baby’s furniture that he decided to slip inside and start reading aloud where to put what.

Over the last three months I’ve put together a space for him I was proud of. To do it with Felix made it all the more special.

It’s been over a year. My priorities are straight. 

I could be a dad.

I want to be a dad.

Felix would make a great one. Leading by his example, I’m sure I could too.

The house was vacant just shortly after ten o’clock. Seungmin took himself home an hour before everyone else, by the time Changbin was on his seventh song he could barely keep his head up. Thankfully he lived close by or else I’d be offering a ride home. Yeri ushered Changbin into their car before anything by Tupac could come out his mouth.

The poor guy wasn’t over it.

We fear he never will be.

With a kiss on Felix’s and I’s cheeks Yeri took him home, asking us to wish her luck, making sure the rest of her boyfriend's bottles were in his possession before they pulled away. Jeongin did the same while Jisoo held a gentle touch to my arm and spewed endless apologies for her fumble at the dinner table. The sweetest girl, she admitted her ignorance, that things between her and Innie were brand new and that she was trying her best to impress us.

Felix, accompanying Jeongin around the kitchen straightening things up, gathering their case of drinks, shot us a couple smiles. It wasn’t everyday I held up a conversation with someone I didn’t know for longer than a month or so. Jisoo seemed to care, and with how she latched onto Jeongin’s arm and fluttered her lashes toward him when he took to her side, I accepted that she was alright.

“You are in trouble for letting me do those things,” she said to him.

Jeongin, eyes shooting open wide, gestured between her and I. “I didn’t… It’s just that’s his business, I didn’t know… How am I in trouble? I was-”

“No one is in trouble,” I smiled at them both. “She’s cool,” I had said to Jeongin. “If she’s sticking around she can know.” Felix later gently scolded me for potentially beginning a lovers spat between the two. Flashing him a mischievous grin I pulled at his lip with my thumb and kissed him like I’d been longing to all night.

Though it didn’t last long.

We had a kitchen to clean and a house to put back together. Dishes were washed and dried while he sung the goddamned Backstreet Boys to himself, and the floors were swept and the table was wiped while I swallowed my smile, not letting him know how much I really fucking loved hearing him sing the goddamned Backstreet Boys to himself. Dancing around one another, moving in perfect rhythm to reset our lives that were happily disheveled for the evening, we ended up down our hallway in front of Jeonghan’s bedroom. The open door I forgot to close after I put his new clothes away in his drawers.

This was normal.

One of us, usually me, is standing here, staring into the vacant space, wondering when he’d come around to fill it. Live in it. Wondering when I’d be allowed to show it to him. Allowed to bring him here, bring him into our life, teach him, hold him.

She wouldn’t let me have him.

And not one part of me could blame her.

“She doesn’t hear anything you tell her,” I mumbled, leaning into Felix’s touch at my side.

Felix pressed a kiss to my shoulder. “Keep talking.”

“I hear you on the phone,” I continued, gazing at the blue striped sheets on the mattress in the chestnut wood crib. “Leaving messages, even talking to him. Neither of them believe you.”

Taking a deep breath, keeping his hand over my back, Felix said, “A lot has happened. They weren’t here next to you throughout this last year.”

“No, they weren’t,” I spat, looking down at him. “They were playing house with my son.”

“Hyunjin,” Felix said, tone steady. “He’s Jade’s son, too.” He may as well have reached into my chest, grabbed my heart, and squeezed it until it stopped beating. I knew he didn’t mean it. He was the voice of reason, my voice of reason, why I’ve been keeping such a good track record lately. “She’s his mother.”

A sigh fell from my lips, one in relation with a cry. “I wanna be his dad.”

Gripping the fabric of my shirt Felix gave me the tiniest smile, then lured me into our bedroom. “I know, darling,” he whispered. 

Moving in the quiet, the peace, we readied ourselves for bed, handsy as ever without a single word spoken as we brushed our teeth and washed our faces. Like clockwork, after I took my hair down, he gave me the little white pill from the tall orange bottle in the medicine cabinet and kissed the back of my hand after I’d taken it. Lacing his fingers in mine he pulled me to the bed and threw the covers back, the two of us cozying up in the center, a plethora of pillows surrounding us now that mine lived here too.

“The last time I spoke with Rachel,” our lawyer we’ve been working with, “She told me that in another month they’d revisit… All of it.” Felix laid himself over my side, his cheek fitting perfectly into the valley where my neck meets my shoulder. “It’s been a month. I’ve been sober longer than that. You’ve told them that.” He tilted his chin to look at me, his eyebrows a bit low. “You told them that, the last time they called. When… Yesterday?”

Felix was our middle man. He had to be our middle man. Jade refused to talk directly with me, but she had to contact us somehow. He’s given them so much advice, so much of our money, and he’s heard updates about Jeonghan that he’d relay to me if I was in a good mood. Curious how she’d keep the child away from me, but then slip things to Felix in a hushed voice as if she was hiding it from her fiance.

“They still have a lot to work through, Hyunjin,” Felix said. “For them it’s been over a year.”

“Okay?!” I huffed. Too harshly I might add, because Felix moved when my chest rose. “A year ago I had a foot in the grave.” He didn’t say anything. Instead, he looked back up at me, and I down at him. “They have a lot to work through,” I sighed.

“They do, give them time.” Felix kissed my shoulder. “You’ve been doing a really, really good job, Hyunjin. Give yourself some credit.”

Three months was good. I felt good. All of the people in my life agreed.

I have been doing a good job.

I just prayed it’d all be worth it.

“You’ve put together his room so that when the time comes you’re prepared,” Felix’s voice fell to a whisper. Gazing down at his loving brown eyes, I couldn’t fight back my smile. “He’s got bath toys waiting for him under the bathroom sink. Sippy cups in the cabinets.”

I was prepared. We were ready. We could do this.

“We need a high chair,” I breathed, lurching forward, turning over so I was facing him.

Felix giggled, the sound painting my cheeks pink. “We’ll get one. We can go this week.” He smoothed a hand over my cheek and drug his thumb beneath my bottom lashes.

“Thursday?”

“Thursday.”

Graco. Graco. Graco.

The aisles stretched on for miles. Felix kept up with my pace at my side, his hands in the pockets of his jeans. Boots squeaking on the scuffed tile of the store's floor, I messed with the long sleeves of my black shirt and darted my eyes across the shelves, dodging the occasional mother with a hoard of children surrounding her.

We’ve nearly circled the entire store, after being in this building only two other times, I had no idea where to go. I wanted the best. Jeonghan had to have the best.

“Y’all need some help?” A woman asked Felix and I as we turned around a corner into an aisle full of bottles and kitchen stuff. Scanning the things hanging along the walls, I sighed, and Felix stepped around me, his sunshine charm overcoming her.

With a soft smile he asked, “Do you happen to carry those Graco high chairs?”

Her short brown bob that curled perfectly beneath her cheerful cheeks bounced with delight as she nodded. “‘Course we do, hon. They’re all anyone wants right now, but you might not find them out here.” She gestured around her. “Let me give you a hand, follow me.” Bustling by, she had to turn her chin almost all the way up to smile at me. 

Prime customer service. I wasn’t on the receiving end of an uneasy look. Felix got the smiles, the random extroverts swarming to his side if we were out and about. I usually lingered behind like some kind of shadow until he’d decide whether or not the person was worthy of our time, then he’d pull me into the conversation.

This lady, no older than forty, in a red dress with strappy sandals on her feet didn’t seem to care. Her smile was friendly. She could see me. 

“Who’re we looking for?” Asking us questions as we weaved through the aisles toward the back of the store, Felix and I shared a few looks as her curiosity strangled us. “Baby shower gift? Who’s having the little one?”

Approaching a quieter part of the store, I gulped and pressed my hands to my jeans. “For my son,” I said, and my heart leapt out of my chest. A smile pricked my lips as the woman turned with a grin on her cheeks. Felix, looking between us, wore pride on his face. Though I watched him try to hide it.

“How wonderful,” she said. Taking us through a makeshift wall of boxes, she gestured up toward a few Graco high chairs on the top of the piles of other brands, a place only I’d be able to reach. “Thank goodness you’re here,” she laughed, holding her hands up to spot me as I shimmied it off the wobbling towers. Light in my arms, I shifted the box to my hip and shrugged, unsure of what to say.

“Can’t tell you how often he has to do that for me,” Felix laughed, which in turn made the woman laugh as well. “Thank you for the help.”

“No worries,” she said, eyes flickering from Felix to me. “So, where is the little guy?”

Blinking, I glanced around at the other boxes and names of brands that were somewhat familiar to me now, I said, “Probably at home with his mom.” 

“Probably,” the woman let out a single laugh. She was trying to make jokes, I knew she was, but that didn’t stop it from making me anxious. “Don’t you know where your son is?” I could hear it in her voice. It was a joke. A joke. She didn’t know what happened. She didn’t know me at all. Felix rubbed a hand over his jaw, his head turning from me to her, waiting.

“Uh,” I stammered, looking away from her as I said, “His mom and I aren’t… together.”

She was unphased. Without missing a beat she said, “Oh, I see, so this is for your place.” Intaking a breath, I nodded my head. Felix crossed his arms over his chest. “Listen, I get it. My sister had a baby with a boy she went to school with. They were both young, yanno? They were a disaster. They couldn’t have one conversation civilly, it was argument city, I swear.” Gulping, electricity sparked in my veins.

As if Felix could feel it, he took a step closer to me all while trying to be polite and listen to this woman's life story. She made herself comfy, leaning against one of the boxes.

“My sister, God bless her, she thinks she’s better than everyone,” she rolled her eyes. “I liked the guy, sure it was unconventional and our mother was mortified, but he was nice. It wasn’t his fault he was swamped with school, trying to work, and now having a child on top of it all. They got married, and he tried so hard, but my sister, she wasn’t having any of it. Poor guy couldn’t hold a job because he was so busy, so she took the kid away from him.”

I couldn’t feel my breath through my lips. “Where is he now?”

“I still see him around from time to time, he’s stayed in the area for the time being,” she shrugged. “He’s doing alright, but I think he’s waiting for her to come back. I saw him a couple of weeks ago, he’s living in Delo. We caught up at the grocery store, he asked me how I was, he asked me how his kid was…”

Felix took a hand through his hair, spinning in a small, slow circle. He wanted this to be over, I could feel the energy coming off of him. 

“Did you tell him?” I asked.

“Yeah, but I didn’t have much to say,” she said, adjusting a dangling earring hanging from her left ear. “My sister moved into Tamoe when his daughter was, like, five. She’s dating someone else now, she’s barely talked to any of us, her family, since she moved. Can’t even tell you the amount of guys she’s tried to be with between him and the poor sap she’s got now. He’s got a kid, too. She can barely handle one, can’t wait to see what happens when she’s dealing with two of them.”

“He has no idea, the… the daughter's father?”

She shrugged. “I told him everything. He deserved to know whatever I could give him. That’s his flesh and blood. Like I said, he’s a good guy. A good guy who bad things have happened to.”

My blood ran cold.

“Thank you for this,” Felix cut in, taking the highchair from my arms. The woman gave him a pleasantry in response and propped a hand on her hip. “Ready, darling?” Looking up at me, stepping almost in front of my gaze that had fallen to the floor, empty, Felix tried to smile.

Looking to the woman before turning on my heels, I caught her curious eyes trying to figure us out.

Once we checked out I darted from the store with Felix again trying to keep up with my pace. I could feel the lightning in my veins. Sick to my stomach, I couldn’t stop myself.

“Do we want to stop by Jihyo’s today? We’re closeby, we can head there now and then get lunch somewhere?” 

My lips were glued shut.

“She said she’s got clothes and stuff, I know that,” Felix continued, placing the box into the trunk I opened for him. It was a small space, the trunk of the blue sports car I had revived back to life, but thankfully it fit. “Beomgyu’s grown out of everything,” his laugh didn’t make me smile this time, “And, she has toys on toys he doesn’t want anymore.” He looked at me with the sweetest grin. “Toys she said he wants to give to his baby cousin. It’d be nice to go see them, Jungkook was asking for you.” That kid had a bit of my mom in him, too. Jihyo and my mother were almost identical. Seven years between them, they were best friends. Raised as best friends. She never got to meet her nephews. It was up to me to bring her to them, my responsibility to keep that bond there. Unlike my failure with my grandfather, I intended to do my best with Jihyo and her kids, but I didn’t make any promises. Part of me knows that Jihyo knows that.

But, I mean, Beomgyu was adorable. An ankle biter that screamed when he spoke. Jungkook was a cool kid, too, and hearing he was asking for me filled me with some sort of joy. They didn’t have their father around, so it really was up to me to stick around. It wasn’t my intention to fill that role, I didn’t want to act as a father to them, but within these last three months I’ve learned what a huge hole it is that I’m filling for them.

One that I wanted with my own son.

“Please don’t internalize anything that woman was saying,” Felix breathed as we slipped into the car. “I didn’t think we’d get a life story today. Don’t internalize it.”

“I’m not,” I grumbled.

Felix tugged his seatbelt over his chest and shot me a look. “I know that face, Hyunjin.”

Clicking my own belt into place, I started the car and tried to smile at him. The sarcasm was evident. “She could take him.”

“Court won’t let her do that,” Felix said, always ready with the facts that seemed to slip my brain. “She can’t move far away from you. She’s got full custody, but you still have some boundaries.” His voice lowered drastically. “You didn’t give everything up.”

I scoffed. “I was drunk when I gave it all up.”

“And now you’re not,” he added quickly. “Now you can think clearly. That story that lady told us is not you. It’s not going to happen to you.”

“Felix, they’re engaged already!” I snapped, throwing my hands up. “What the fuck do you think happens next! She’s never wanted to stay here, around here. Minho, either. The two of them are probably already thinking about getting on a plane.”

“Take a deep breath,” he said, calm as ever. “Please. Let’s talk this out.”

A scary feeling I didn’t like roiled in my gut. Jade could take him and run. I could lose him forever, and with what the court already knows about me, it wasn’t looking good. My fingers gripped the steering wheel as I backed out of the parking spot and started for the road. Everything Felix was saying was going in one ear and out the other, I couldn’t hold onto any of it.

She was going to take my son.

She was going to take Jeonghan away from me.

“The next time you go to court everything will be revised. All of it.” Felix truly was incredible. His voice never shook. Always level headed, he looked at things realistically. Something I could never do. “They’ll see the progress you’ve made, we’ll bring everything with us, and maybe they’ll reconsider visitation.”

At a stop sign, I waited for pedestrians to cross the street, then mumbled, “Mm, visitation. Good idea.”

I turned the other way, away from our home. Felix sat forward.

“Don’t you dare, you take us home,” he said. “I’ll call her when we get there.” I kept going. None of what he said got through to me. I was driving to Minho’s. “Hyunjin, this is not the way to do this. You’ll put yourself in a deeper hole. You want things to get better, you leave them alone and let your lawyers do their part. But, in order for that to happen, you have to do your part.”

I couldn’t help myself. Blind with sickness, deaf to all worries.

I didn’t even know if anyone would be home, I hadn’t been here in years.

Pulling up into the driveway next to the Range Rover that ruined my life, they were home.

A conversation. I just needed to talk to her.

Felix tried and tried to keep me in the car. But, I couldn’t stop.

Slamming the door shut I hurried for the stairs, but the back door to Minhos flew open before I could get up a single one.

“What the fuck do you want, Hyunjin?” Jade spat, her stance wide at the top of the stairs as if she was trying to block me from barging inside. Looking up at her from the ground, I drug my tongue across my bottom lip and tried to smile.

Three months was a long time. I looked different than the last time she saw me, more aware. She’d be able to tell I was better, doing better. 

She looked good. Beautiful, as usual. Her cheeks were a tad fuller, her hair tied back, but still flowing with life, and she wore her pajamas. I’ve interrupted a quiet morning. My heart squeezed. She was glowing. A mother.

Tucking a piece of hair behind my ear, I grabbed onto both railings and lifted a foot to the bottom stair, hoping to appear as casual as possible. She copied me, planting her hands on the railings. Eyebrows low, living right above her bright eyes, she was angry.

“Answer the question,” she spat, her eyes going sharp.

“Not even a hello,” I sighed, feeling the jerk come out of me. Trying to will it away, I kept trying to smile. “You’ve changed.” It fell from my lips before I could stop it.

“I haven’t heard from you in three months, you don’t deserve a hello,” she said. Twisting my brows in confusion, I gave her a look. She’s spoken with Felix weekly. She’s heard about us, about me. “What the fuck do you want, before I call the cops.”

Narrowing my eyes, I tilted my head to the side and whispered, “I want my son.”

A loud, humorless cackle of disbelief escaped her. Tossing her head backward, she sighed heavily and couldn’t hide her fury that manifested as a maniacal grin.

“You’re unbelievable,” she said.

“I want my son,” I said a bit louder, tightening my grip on the posts. She was laughing, and I was totally serious.

“Then you should’ve called the judge,” she threw in my face. “Three months, Hyunjin. Thats a lot of time to miss, you broke the fucking agreement, and now you show up without permission, which is also against the agreement, and demand me to give you my son.”

My son.

She was going to take him.

“Our lawyers alway said that if we could work it out on our own we wouldn’t need to go to court,” I said, confusion laced in my voice. Her fingers dug into the wooden posts.

“I’m dealing with you, I have to go to court,” she grilled. “My son is a year and three months old. He's going to start recognizing who is and isn’t around.”

“That’s why I’m here,” I shrugged. Groaning audibly, she laughed again.

“It’s damaging, Hyunjin,” Jade shook her head. “You come around every few months like he’s a dog who’ll be excited to see you no matter how long you’ve been gone. He's a baby, this shit is psychologically damaging and I won’t let it happen to my son.”

“Our son,” I smized, knowing the words would get under her skin. The jerk was here. If she was going to take him, this is how it would be. “Jeonghan. You named him after my grandfather. My mother’s father.” She hardened her glare and clenched her jaw.

A laugh came from the house, the door behind Jade. A baby’s laugh, Jeonghan’s laugh, my sons laugh. The most beautiful sound I think I’ve ever heard. 

He wasn’t in the house alone. Of course he wasn’t, babies couldn’t be left alone. Minho was here. This was his house. Jeonghan was in there, laughing with the guy who walked away from me while I was unconscious on the floor. Because of him.

“Oh, wow, he’s actually home?” I scoffed. “Thought he took any chance he could get to go to work. I heard flirting with customers for tips doesn’t make you much.” 

“You should really get your facts straight before you try to piss me off,” she said, firing back quickly, raising her brows. “Where do you get your information from? Minho hasn’t worked at the bar for like six months.” Prodding my cheek with my tongue, I shook his head and glanced away. 

He was in there with him.

“Let me have him, I’ll bring him back tomorrow,” I said, shifting only my eyes over to her. The buzzing beneath my skin threatened to bubble over.

She grinned and nodded toward the car. “You even have a carseat? A crib? Bottles? Formula? Maybe a stroller?” Opening my mouth to speak, she cut me right off. “What do you even need him for? You didn’t want him!”

Slamming my fists into the posts, I wanted to scream, and I did.

“What if I want him now, dammit?!”

Horrible idea, really.

The door creaked open behind her, and he came out. With Jeonghan in his arms. A bottle was in his mouth, he was holding it himself all cozy in Minho’s hold, fitting right in the hook of his arm.

“What’s going on?” Minho asked, looking down at me with disgust. 

Jeonghan. My baby.

Dark hair brushed over his head. His cheeks were soft, squeezable, and how I longed to get my hands on them. He was awake, alert, his deep brown eyes looking up at Minho, the man who’s been, hopefully, caring for him the last year.

“I don’t appreciate the noise,” Minho nearly growled. “Especially while there’s children present.” 

Snapping out of my gaze, I rolled his eyes.

“It’s ten in the fucking morning,” I said, glaring at him.

“Language?” Minho furrowed his brows.

“Please, you live with this one,” I pointed to Jade, “She’s no fucking Mary Poppins. When did you get so soft, Min?” 

Titling my head to the side, I smirked. I forced our past out through my glare, reminding him of all he’s done with one singular look in milliseconds.

“A lot changes when you become a father,” Minho narrowed his eyes. “But I don’t need to explain, you already get it, don’t you?”

Stepping up onto the bottom stair, I opened my mouth, ready to unload his life before him and Jade, vocally express what he did to me, because I know the sweetest, most awesome little fun fact.

Jade has no recollection of what he had done to me.

She doesn’t know.

The man holding our son wrapped his hands around my neck, obstructed my fucking airway until I was out cold. Then, from what I’ve heard, Chan grabbed him and took him away. Minho left me there. Chan ended up coming back, that good guy curse, and checked in with Seungmin to make sure I was breathing. Then, he was gone.

Minho left me there.

Jade left me there.

She didn’t know.

The passenger door of the car slammed shut, gathering everyone's attention from the porch.

“Hyunjin,” Felix called out to me. “Let’s go.” He shared a look with Jade, as if he was apologizing to her. My heart began to crack in two, more than it had when Minho brought Jeonghan out to the porch.

“Really?” Jade frowned.

Felix shrugged. “I’m sorry,” he said, giving his head a small shake. “I tried to stop this.”

“Always,” I groaned, rolling my head backward. “You always have to take her side.” Felix took three steps closer to me, folding his arms.

“I do.” Looking back at Jade, his eyes flickered to Jeonghan for a second, a breath corrupting him, then he looked back to Jade. “Y’okay?”

“Be a lot better if I had a warning,” she said. Closing his eyes, Felix shrugged and shook his head again. 

“We weren’t coming here,” Felix muttered, sending a glare toward me, but I was grilling him right back. “Let’s go. I told you how to go about this, this isn’t it. I’m driving us home.”

Behind Jade the baby cooed and shifted himself around in Minho’s arms to look where Felix’s voice was coming from. The bottle fell from his lips, Minho catching it quickly before it rolled onto the ground.

Jeonghan lifted a finger and pointed toward Felix, uttering a quiet, “Who?”

It was the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen.

I could see his whole face now.

God, he was my mom.

He was me.

But, he wore Jade in his face, his shape.

Sharing a look with Minho, she took a breath and said, “That’s Felix.”

“Vee-liss,” Jeonghan tried to repeat, making Minho chuckle and my stomach roll. His inquisitive little eyes scanned his surroundings, and once they found Jade he reached out his arms. “Mama,” he cooed.

Mama.

I felt like melting to the ground.

She scooped him into her arms and swapped her smile for a cold glare when she looked down at me.

He was… everything. I couldn’t take my eyes away from him.

No words could begin to describe the foreign warmth in my chest.

“He's beautiful,” I whispered, not wanting to disturb his peace as he looked around the yard. 

Sighing, Jade nodded.

“He looks like you,” I said, pulling my eyes away from the baby for half a second to look up at her.

She scoffed and pulled a silly face. “Not in the slightest.”

I laughed, and Jeonghan searched for me. His big eyes met mine for the first time.

Breath hitching in my throat, I smiled at him.

He lifted a finger to point at me and asked, “Who?” 

A lump formed in my throat.

My own flesh and blood.

Jade gulped.

No one seemed to be able to speak aside from the one year old.

“Who?” He asked again, looking to Jade for instruction.

“Jinnie,” she muttered as Jeonghan was about to ask for the third time.

Placing one hand on her shoulder and the other over her heart, Jeonghan looked at me and gave me a once over. I wanted to laugh, but I shoved it away.

“Chi-nny,” Jeonghan said.

“That’s me,” I breathed.

“Chi-nny, well, Mama,” he said, his tone sad, laying his head down on Jade's shoulder.

“Time to go inside,” Minho suggested, smoothing a hand over both of their backs. Eyeing his hand on Jeonghan's back, I furrowed my brows.

“Why?” I asked.

“Jinnie, yell, Mama,” Jade repeated clearly for me to hear, bobbing her head with a sureness.

“What!” I screwed his face up in confusion, raising my voice.

“He remembers you,” she shrugged.

I sucked in a breath. “Remembers… me?”

She rolled her eyes and said, “We were in the parking lot of the grocery store. I was picking up his birthday cake, you were visiting the liquor store next door.” I broke my gaze and looked at the stairs. “It was the first time in a long time I’d caught you, so I tried to give you the paperwork.”

“You took it from her, ripped it to pieces and screamed in her face,” Minho added. “While this one watched from the window.”

Jeonghan turned around to look at Minho, a grin breaking out onto his chubby cheeks. “Dada,” he cooed, holding out a hand toward him.

What?

Whipping my head up in a flash, I burned my eyes into Minho’s.

“Really?” I grit my teeth. “Kid calls you Dada? I’m half of him, and I get Jinnie?”

“Hyunjin,” Felix said, taking three more steps toward the stairs. “Let’s go.”

I took a step, getting closer as I rose on the stairs. Behind Jade, Minho pulled her aside, taking her place at the top of the staircase. His arms fanned out to hold onto the railings, asserting his dominance.

“You don’t deserve that title,” Minho grilled, narrowing his eyes. “And last time I checked, you aren’t listed on the birth certificate, did you forget about that?” 

I did. I was drunk.

I shot Jade a glare, Jeonghan watching me from her hip.

“Did you forget the kid’s a product of her cheating on you?” My expression broke out into a grin. “Remember that?” I took another step up the porch, and just before I was eye level with Minho, who’s temper was rising by the millisecond, Felix was grabbing onto my wrist.

Minho’s grip on the railings relaxed, color returning to his knuckles as he said, “You’ve gone soft, Jinnie.” Teasing me with his own words, the nickname, what Jade used to call me, stabbed me in the chest. “Felix wear the pants now?” he said while Felix pulled me down to the grass. Felix hit him with a glare.

“Sorry, Lix,” Minho said softly after a look to Jade, shaking his head.

Felix wrapped an arm around my back and parted his lips to speak, until a car whizzing down the street took the scene. It came to a screeching stop at the curb.

He needs to get that fixed. Chan.

“Wonderful,” I chuckled, grabbing onto Felix.

The car door slammed shut behind him, his expression angry, on defense as he started up the lawn. 

Felix sighed in frustration.

“We’re leaving,” he raised his voice, holding a hand up to Chan.

“Damn right you’re leaving,” Chan said, puffing his chest, stopping beside my car.

Jeonghan shouted, “ANNIE!” 

Snapping my neck, he was sitting up in Jade’s arms holding his out to Chan. Angry Chan waiting for us by the car, who was here to see angry Minho standing on the porch with my son. Jade was angry, too. They were all so angry.

Felix pulled me to the car. I couldn’t feel my fingers, or my face.

We were leaving, and Jeonghan was staying here with these angry people.

“Let me get the door for ya,” Chan snickered, yanking the passenger door of the sports car open. Felix ignored him.

Gripping the edge of the door, resisting Felix’s attempt to sit me down, I frowned, watching the porch. My baby was up there, and I was leaving him here.

“Darling, in the car, please,” Felix whispered to me. “I promise you, we will fix this. I promise. But, I need you to get in the car.”

“Need some help?” Chan questioned, rounding the door to grab onto my arms, yanking them off of the door.

I snapped.

Tearing my eyes of off my son I pushed Chan away by the chest. The smirk he wore spurred me on. Throwing a hand back, somewhat of a fist, I tossed it toward him, but he caught it, and he laughed.

Flinching, Felix groaned and shoved Chan backward himself with his hip.

“Fuck off!” he shouted at him. “Chan, fuck off!” 

Holding his hands up, Chan smized and took two steps back.

“I like this Felix,” he said. “Control your man, yeah? You leave my family alone.”

He got me in the car.

I couldn’t breathe.

Felix got in the car, and took my hand. “Deep breaths.”

Wet hair dangled on my bare shoulders where I sat at the kitchen table with a cup of green tea in front of me. Feet tucked up onto the chair, my arms were wrapped around my sweats, my chin resting on a knee while my gaze rested on the table.

Felix moved about the kitchen, putting dinner together for us to share. 

He didn’t sing.

We didn’t talk about what happened. The drive home was silent, aside from my breaths. When we arrived home he helped me out of the car and into the house. We spent too much time on the couch, me buried in his chest, sobbing.

I felt stupid.

It was stupid, no matter what positive affirmation Namjoon or Felix wanted to feed me.

What the fuck was I thinking?

After a shower, I found myself here.

“I’m sorry,” I said, interrupting the peace that had made itself comfortable around us. 

Felix glanced up from the counter. “Don’t be,” he said. “You’re allowed to hurt.”

“But…” Sighing, I dropped a leg to the floor and sat up, stretching a hand across the table to hold onto the warm mug of tea. Felix watched me grab it and take a sip.

“Tell me,” he said when I put the mug down, recognizing I’d need help pushing the words out.

“I shouldn’t… Shouldn’t have lost my temper,” I said, meeting his gaze. “I should’ve listened to you. Shouldn’t have gone there, at all.”

Felix pursed his lips, focusing back on his work at the counter. “Do you regret it?”

Thinking to myself, I placed a finger between my teeth and glanced about the room, his house that was turning into ours as the days passed by. I shook my head. “I don’t. Is that horrible?” He didn’t answer, he only encouraged me to keep going with a smile. “I liked it when you used to tell me what I was feeling, and if it was wrong.” Dropping my chin, I shot him a look out my lashes and he laughed.

“You have to tell me, darling,” he shrugged. “I’m not allowed to do that anymore. You know what you’re feeling, you know if it’s wrong. Though…” his voice trailed off, and he danced his gaze upward in thought, “If you care so passionately about something, and you’re fighting for it… I don’t see how it’d be so horrible.”

The smile that found my lips made him roll his eyes. “Thank you.”

He jutted the knife in his hand toward me. “That was not me telling you how to feel.”

“Sure,” I winked, and the knife almost fell to the floor. He caught it, flustered, and brushed the moment off with a gentle laugh. 

Standing to my feet, I made it a point to drink more of the tea Felix had made me before I took myself to his side, dragging a finger over the back of his hand that worked the knife. He paused, smiling, and gave me a look over his shoulder. My eyes, glued to his hands, avoided his. Wrapping my other arm around his front, I stood behind him and rested my weight against his back, letting my hand live over his, working with his as one.

Laying my cheek to his hair, I basked in his warmth, allowing my other hand to slip beneath his shirt, resting over his belly, keeping him close to me.

“Twenty seconds,” I whispered, and he stopped moving altogether.

Without another word he had spun around in my arms, slipping his around my shoulders, yanking me into his grasp. His fingers slid into my hair, keeping us pressed cheek to cheek until I dropped my head and buried it into his neck, my hands pressing into the small of his back. I could feel him taking deep breaths, the steady beat of his heart keeping mine in the same rhythm. Soon enough I was breathing in time with him.

Twenty seconds came and went, but we didn’t move.

Not until the phone rang.

Felix expressed his disappointment with a sigh as I pulled away. His brown eyes, shinier now that they were full of tears, gave me the sappiest look. 

Tipping my chin down, I placed a finger beneath his and lifted his lips to my own. “I love you,” I whispered, my heart erupting into flames within my chest.

Felix kissed me one more time, smiling. “I love you.”

Leaving him for the phone, the loss of his warmth killing me internally, he turned himself toward the counter to continue his work. A steady hum started to come out of him. I prayed he’d start to sing.

Lifting the phone off the wall opposite Felix, I rested my hip against the counter and pressed it to my ear. “Hello?” I asked, voice more lifted than before as I took in the view of Felix’s backside. A smile found my lips when he began to bop his head to his own voice.

“Hello? Hyunjin?”

The phone nearly slipped from my grip.

“Jade?” I choked out. Felix whirled himself around, eyes wide.

“Yeah, Jinnie, it’s me.” Her voice was quiet, and partially broken. Felix was by my side in seconds with an open hand.

“H-hang on, Felix is here, here, I’ll give-”

“No.” She cut me clean off, stopping me. “I want to talk to you. I need to talk to you.”

~ july 5th, 2021 ~

“You should not have come with me,” I muttered as I pulled my car up to a stone edged curb where dozens of other SUVs were parked. The unnecessarily big house was decorated in pink balloons, streamers and banners alike. Music pumped from the backyard, we could hear it over our radio. An offended sort of laugh came out of my son.

“What are you talking about?” Jeonghan’s eyes bugged out of his head as he yanked off his seatbelt. “I know these people.”

Grinding my teeth I followed suit and took my belt off, shutting the car off and opening my door. Sure enough, a song from the latest popstar at the height of her career poured into the car from the yard full of people. Their chatter could also be heard from here.

“Yeah, but there’s a lot of people,” I narrowed my eyes. Clenching his jaw, his mother came out of him. At least my appearance still reigned superior. Paired with his dark brown hair pulled into a bun on the back of his head, he would forever be my twin. “This is always a toss up.”

Jeonghan pulled his lips tight. “He’s my cousin. I’ve seen this happen before. I’ve had to do this without you before. I’d rather be here with you then have you come alone.”

Taking a breath, I almost had one of those I can’t believe he came from me moments. Felix had taught him so much. I, me, myself, I’ve taught him so much. Even his mother and his stepfather, as much as I still hate to admit it to this day. Looking over my shoulder, taking into account what cars were here and which ones weren’t, I gave him a nod.

“Okay, thank you,” I said. “Just… be you.”

He smiled, his eyes curving upward. “Always,” he said happily, shoving my shoulder.

“Do you think they did this one big enough?” I asked him as we ascended the paved driveway. Giving me a silly look, he laughed. 

My boy was always happy.

Now at twenty four, still wanting to hang around both sets of parents, he was happy. He had a girlfriend now, one he brought around occasionally. It was still new, but she was great. I couldn’t wait for the day Felix and I could tell her about Jeonghan’s gay crisis he had at fifteen. At the time it wasn’t funny, but now whenever he brings it up another detail is added that has the potential to cripple every audience. He was unapologetically himself. Very little scared him, and I admired him for that.

“Nothing is ever too big for Sana,” Jeonghan breathed, mounting the grey brick layered steps. Glancing up at the banner that hung in the front door alcove, pink and bright and sparkling, with a ‘Happy Birthday Rose’ in the center, I huffed a laugh.

“Think we’re in the wrong color,” I said quietly. Jeonghan with a hand on the doorknob, pushed the heavy door open and glanced back at me pointing up to the banner. Widening his eyes and his grin, he looked at our matching dark clothes and laughed aloud, the sound echoing as we stepped into the air conditioned home.

Small children we didn’t recognize ran by us without a care, one almost taking my boy out by the knee. Tucking his hands over his chest he stepped closer to me and swallowed another laugh. Shooting him a knowing look we started through the home, large, spacey, echoey, yet full of so much stuff that one had to weave through each room. The tall walls painted white had family photos hanging up, portraits of two forced smiles holding their babies brought into a world where they’d one day succumb to the same fate as my Jeonghan.

It wasn’t a thing yet, but I could feel it.

That poor boy. Not a photo was genuine.

Poor boy, but good man.

I wondered if he’d let me have a conversation with him, too.

Leading Jeonghan into the kitchen where things fell quiet, a pair of hands grabbed my shoulders with an exasperated sigh. Shorter than me, straight hair hung in front of his naturally big eyes. His strung out eyes.

“I didn’t expect you to get here so fast,” Taehyun said, breathless. His fingers dug into the bone of my shoulders. Jeonghan narrowed his eyes, keeping watch over the entire situation. My boy had a sharp brain, he was observant. In moments like this he’d be able to relay every detail back to me once it was over.

Putting my hands over Taehyuns, I took them off of me and returned them to his personal space. “Are you okay?” I asked. He was high, but that was normal. Something else had happened. He was fuming.

“Yeah,” he shrugged, scratching the top of his head, then at his arms. “I’m good. Why?”

“You don’t have to lie to me, Taehyun,” I said, lowering my chin. He laughed, a singular sound, then shrugged. I wasn’t going to get anything out of him. Poor boy couldn’t speak for himself.

“My sister just left,” he sneered, and his jaw set into place.

Right. That.

He gestured behind him. “Beomgyu’s there,” he said. “Bathroom. I can’t get him out.” Jeonghan started for the hall, looking back at us for permission. With a nod I told him he could go. Shifting my eyes back to fidgeting Taehyun who couldn’t make himself comfortable, he said, “It’s getting worse.”

“For who?” I asked inconspicuously, eyeing the way he moved his hands over his skin. “Beomgyu, or you?”

Taehyun’s glare wanted to kill me if the boy could’ve wielded the power. “Him, damn.” He folded his skinny arms over his chest and did his best to stand still. “He was high when he got here, then he started drinking. She showed up, and he was a mess.”

“Did they speak?”

Taehyun narrowed his eyes. “What the fuck do you think?”

He’s lucky his words were ineffective over me. If I was Jeonghan’s age or younger I’d attempt to kick his ass. At least Taehyun didn’t have the strength to choke me unconscious, not in his current state anyway.

“Okay, well did he see the kids? He didn’t do anything, did he?”

Taehyun pursed his lips and shook his head. “He never does. He just watches them.” With a side eye to myself, he muttered, “She had another baby, yanno?”

Knowing what this meant to him, I tilted my head to the side and hummed. “I had no idea they were expecting more.” He rolled his eyes at my words, my insinuations, and laughed. When the smiles calmed down, I caught a glimpse of how it really made him feel. He was torn apart. That only meant the one in the bathroom was equally, if not more heartbroken. “I’m sorry.”

He scrunched his brows and shook his head. “God, no, don’t do that, I mean… I’m fine. It’s fine. If anything it just means she’s-”

“Hey, Dad?” Jeonghan’s voice carried down the hall, echoing in the tall ceilings. He appeared and my blood ran cold. The look on his face coupled with the worry in his tone told me I’d have to step in. I’ve never had to step in for him before. Not when it came to Beomgyu.

I was right, he shouldn't have come with me.

Leaving Taehyun in the kitchen I walked with a purpose, laying a hand on Jeonghan’s shoulder as I passed by him, letting him know that he did his best. The further I went, the louder the cries became. The sobs. The heavy breaths. The murmurs of words that scared me shitless.

Not that I’d ever show it.

Turning into the dim bathroom lit up by the window on the wall, I stopped in the doorway and took a breath. Jeonghan stood behind me, his lips pulled down.

Beomgyu was on the floor, splayed out on the floor, yet curled into himself. He was conscious, he was breathing, but he was saying things I never wanted to hear ever again.

Stepping closer to him, not letting his panicked breath affect my own, I squatted beside him and pushed his shaggy hair from his damp forehead. He was a sweaty mess. A sweaty trembling mess. Taking hold of his arm I yanked up the sleeve and rolled my head back with a groan.

“Beomgyu,” I said gently, placing a hand to his cheek. He stopped mumbling and looked up at me. “You’re gonna come home with me, okay?” 

“Home,” he whispered. His empty glare wrecked my heart. “No, you’re gonna take me… back there.”

Keeping my grip on his wrist, I attempted to move him, but he wouldn’t budge. “We’re going to go home. To my house. Felix is there. I brought Jeonghan with me, did you see him?” Gesturing behind me, the boy's eyes followed and I swear a smile tried to light up his face. “Come with us, you’ll feel so much better at home.”

“Better at home,” Beomgyu nodded, his cheek against the tile of the floor. Jeonghan came closer and he watched him.

“Unless you want to stay here and listen to Ariana Grande, and eat pink candy,” he said, and Beomgyu laughed between sobs. “It’s better at our house. I promise. You know that.”

To my surprise, he tried to sit himself up, wobbling back and forth as he did. Once he was somewhat stable, I pulled a rubber band from my wrist and worked his hair backward out of his face, and tied it into place. Yanking the hand towel from the wall beside the sink, sorry Sana, I cleaned him up and adjusted his clothes to where they belonged. He watched me as I did this, his cries having ceased the second he was upright.

“Better?” I asked, placing a hand to his cheek, pinching some life into it. Thinning his lips, he frowned and wrapped his arms around my back, pulling me into a hug. Dropping down onto my knees, I wrapped mine around him and held him. Fingers grabbing my shirt in despair, face down on my chest, I let him cry.

My promise.

Those words I said to myself so many years ago, before I had ever even held Jeonghan in my arms. Beomgyu and Jungkook. They were my responsibility. Even more so now that we only had each other.

I promised.

“I got you,” I whispered to him, drawing my hand in circles over his back. “Not gonna let anything happen to you, Beomie. I promise. We’re gonna help you.”

haven masterlist ✧ talk to me ✧ thank you for reading <3

you do not have permission to copy or translate my works without my consent.

[agonycrossbow]

Leon, in the intro to RE4make:

"September 30, 1998. It's a day I'll never forget. The cop inside me died that day."

---

Officer 1: So, tell me, Yanqui. Why did you come to this horrible place? As close to nowhere as I've ever seen.

Leon: Let's just say... looking for someone.

Officer 1: That someone must be very important, eh? The Chief gave the orders himself. "Help him," he said.

Leon: I'm sure you boys didn't come all the way out here to roast marshmallows.

Officers 1 & 2: (laugh)

Leon: (annoyed) Maybe you did.

Officer 1: You have a strange sense of humor. I'm gonna let you in on a little secret. Just between us. A lot of people have gone missing around here, and it's been that way for a while, now.

Leon: (still annoyed) Well, then. Should be just another day in the office, right?

Officer 1: Mmm... I mean, last week, there was a search for some missing hikers.

Leon: (sarcastically) I'm sure you'll do your best to help me.

Officer 1: (laughs)

[...]

Leon, much later in the scene: So much for helping me.

---

Leon, later in chapter 1:

(bitterly) "Gotta fix everything myself."

---

Leon tells Ada in RE2make that the reason why he went into law enforcement was to help people like Kendo and his daughter -- vulnerable people, good people, members of the community who are facing the worst moments of their life and need someone to help make it right.

And yet he says in the intro to RE4make that the cop inside him died that day. When we take that in context with what he told Ada about Kendo, what he means is that his desire to help people died that day. The belief that he could help people died that day.

His faith in humanity died that day.

Leon goes into his mission to save Ashley already expecting the two local officers that he's with to be completely fucking useless, and he gets immediately annoyed at the first hint that they are. His "So much for helping me" is said with a sense of "Why am I not surprised?"

He went into RE2make believing that people are generally good and that things will work themselves out.

He goes into RE4make believing that people are generally selfish and will take advantage of him, leaving him to work through any problem that arises on his own.

This is why he's so supremely pissed off at Ada when they meet back up again, and it's also why Ashley is so integral to his character arc. It's also why I've said in the past that Ada is a foil for Ashley in RE4make.

(NOTE: A foil is a character that is set up in the narrative to directly contrast with another one. Where one character is deficient, the foil character is strong, and vice versa. Where Ada is cold, Ashley is warm. Where Ada is physically capable, Ashley is defenseless. Where Ada is secretive, Ashley is honest. Where Ada is calculating, Ashley is impulsive. A foil does not necessarily exist to make one character seem better than the other; a foil exists to showcase two equals using a different approach and receiving different outcomes as a result.)

Ada is the genesis of Leon's cynicism. She's the reason why he expects less than nothing from people anymore -- the reason why he goes into every social interaction waiting to be screwed over. And she reinforces this throughout the narrative by trying to tear him down ("Leave the girl. She's lost no matter what.") or by keeping score ("Happy to help. Now you owe me.") -- which she takes even further in Separate Ways ("Don't worry, Leon. First time's free.").

In the six years since her initial betrayal, Leon has been forged into a weapon by the US government. The kind-hearted boy from RE2make who wanted to save the world now is more comfortable shoving a knife in the throat of an old woman than he is with carrying on small talk with people.

But weapons on their own are neither good nor bad. It's how they're used that determines that. Up until RE4make, Leon has been surrounded by extreme violence and senseless death (that's the point of changing Operation Javier btw), and he doesn't see a way in which his status as a weapon could possibly be used for good.

Until Ashley comes into his life.

If there was ever anyone who had a good reason to take Leon for granted and take advantage of him, it's Ashley -- but not only does she not do that, but she goes out of her way to make herself useful without expectation or strings attached. The only thing she ever asks for in return is a "thank you."

So, every time she gets that "thank you" -- every time she gets a real smile out of him -- she's returning pieces of his humanity to him. She's healing the hurts that Ada and the CIA inflicted on him so many years ago. She's showing him that there's still some good in this world, and it's worth fighting for. She's worth fighting for.

When Leon says: "This time, it has to be different..." he's not talking about his inability to save anyone in Raccoon City. That's a very surface-level interpretation. What he's referring to there is that Raccoon City destroyed his faith in humanity, ruined his image of himself, and poisoned his ability to create meaningful connections with people.

That's what has to be different this time. That's why the full line he says in the intro is: "If I could just forget what happened that night... the pain, even for a second... This time, it can be different. It has to."

RE2make took so much from him, but Ashley spent the entirety of RE4make giving so much of it back. But if she were to die in his arms in chapter 15, that hope and that healing would die with her. Her death would be a reaffirmation that everything that Leon wants or hopes for in this world isn't real, and that reality is nothing more than a series of random tragedies and chaos that results in suffering.

Ashley re-teaches him how to trust in people again, how to work as part of a team again, how to feel good about his own actions again. She teaches him how to hope again.

Ashley is the first person in six years to care about whether Leon gets or feels hurt by her actions. The most important line of dialogue spoken to Leon in the entire game is "Stay back! I might hurt you again..." as Ashley openly sobs over the mere thought of it.

Juxtapose that beside...

During the boat scene, Ada asks Leon in response to whether or not she's changed, after all of the damage she's already inflicted on him: "What do you think? Don't think too hard."

And so, in the ending, Leon answers: "I think we both know that this is where we go our separate ways."

Because, this time, things were different.

Because, this time, his partner was Ashley.

[starrysky28]

The Times We Were Together: Chapter 5

Series Title: The Times We Were Together

Chapter Title: To Sherry, From Claire and Leon

Series Summary: After the Raccoon City incident, Claire, Sherry and Leon start living together, where they share many memories and moments with each other.

Words: 2,894

Warnings: None

December 24, 1998 - Two Months Later

"Aw, man. I got it on my sweater", Leon grimaced at the spec of red frosting that had been smeared on his sleeve.

Claire leaned over to look, "It's not that bad. Besides, it's so ugly to begin with that no one will notice"

Leon smirked and looked down at his sweater, which read "Meowy Catmas" in big letters with a cartoon cat below it. She was certainly right, even though she was the one who insisted they all wear ugly Christmas sweaters.

"How do your cookies look so much better than mine, Claire? Mine are so messy...", Sherry asked, unhappy with her glob of frosting on what was supposed to be decorated as a gingerbread man.

"Just takes practice. I've been doing this for years", she replied.

Sherry nods, "I guess that makes sense. My parents never let me decorate cookies, anyway"

"What?! First no pets and now no cookie decorating on Christmas?!", Claire remarked in a half-playful tone.

"Nope. That's why I like you guys so much, you let me do things that I've never done before", she smiled.

Leon shot Claire a glance and Claire put her finger up to her mouth in a shushing motion.

"Sometimes I miss my real parents, though"

There was a silence in the room.

It was only natural that she missed them, they were her biological parents after all. Sure, they were definitely a bit neglectful of Sherry, but it wasn't like the Birkins were abusive or anything either. 

"Hey, where's Chris?", Sherry asked, breaking the silence.

The man in question had returned just one day earlier after being gone for two whole months investigating Umbrella. Since then, he'd been a little more spacey than usual, which of course, made Claire worry a bit, but she hoped that it didn't mean anything particularly bad.

Almost immediately after Sherry asked where he was, Chris came down the stairs, jacket in hand.

"Speak of the devil. We were just talking about you", Claire commented as he walked into the room.

"Oh, yeah? What about?", he asked.

"Where you were. You've had your head in the clouds lately it seems"

Chris laughed lightly and shook his head, "And you call me a worrywart. I'm fine, Claire"

"You sure? Because the last time you said that you had to leave for two months", she panned her eyes toward him.

Chris sighed, "I'm fine, I'm actually heading out to, uh, pick someone up"

"Who?", Claire questioned further.

"A friend I know from work. She's gonna stay with us for Christmas if you guys don't mind"

"She?!"

The burly man crossed his arms exasperated at her questions, "Yes, it's a she"

"And before you get any wacky ideas, we're just friends"

Chris hadn't brought home a girl since him and Claire were still in school. It wasn't that he was particularly awkward with women, heck, he'd been turning down girls left and right in high school. It was just that he never felt he had the time for a relationship.

"If you say so", Claire smirked.

She shook her head amusedly, thinking about how when Chris first left home two months ago, he was the one telling her to make her move on Leon. Now, made obvious by the bright red blush on his face, he was the one who seemed to have feelings for this "friend" of his.

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

About a half an hour later, the front door clicked open. 

"Alright, I wanna see this", Claire smirked, referring to the "mystery woman" her brother was bringing home.

With Leon and Sherry following not to far behind her, the trio snuck around the corner to the foyer area.

"There she is", Claire said in what could barely be considered a whisper.

The woman wasn't particularly tall and kept her hair in a short, neck-length bob. As expected due to her occupation, she also appeared to have strong arms and slightly broadened shoulders.

"Here, let me get your coat, Jill", Chris offered.

"No need, I've got it", the woman replied.

As she began to quickly take off her coat and hang it on the rack by the door, Chris locked eyes with the three of them, who were still "hiding" behind the wall.

"You guys can come out now, y'know...", he rolled his eyes amusedly.

"Hm?", Jill made a noise and turned around, unsure who Chris was referring to.

She stuck out her hand to greet her, "Sorry about the awkwardness, I'm Claire. Chris's younger sister"

"The name's Jill Valentine. I figured you were his sister. You may not see it, but you two look very alike", Jill shook her hand.

"...Oh, really??", Claire cringed, looking back at her brother.

"Also, he's told me all about you", she winked back at her.

Jill's forest-green eyes panned over to the man in the goofy Christmas sweater and young girl who still stood beside her.

"Oh! This is my boyfriend, Leon", Claire began.

"And this is our-uh...this is Sherry", She corrected herself slightly, placing her hands on the smiling girl's shoulders.

"It's nice to meet you all", Jill half smiled, focusing on Sherry in particular, almost as if she knew her from somewhere.

"Why don't you guys head into the living room while I get Jill settled in, okay?"

...

Once they were out of earshot, Jill began to ask Chris about Sherry, "So that little girl...she doesn't happen to be..."

"Birkin's daughter? Yes, that's her", Chris confirmed her suspicions.

"I see...", she watched as the three of them conversed in the living room, something about how the girl would be allowed to open one gift tonight before Christmas morning.

"They seem really close, almost like a real family", Jill smiled.

Chris looked back at her, "That's what I've been saying too" 

"But...Claire and Leon are so young, do you really think they can-"

He shook his head, "Claire may only be nineteen, but she's more mature than she looks. If anything, I think her and Leon can handle the kid just fine"

The sound of laughter came from Sherry, who was now watching Claire set up a card game for them to play while Leon was trying to figure out what temperature to set the oven for to cook the roast for dinner that night.

"Shall we join them?", Jill turned towards Chris.

"Sure. I'm great at that game anyway", he boasted.

"Ha! Not as good as me!", She taunted him.

Chris rolled his eyes playfully, "C'mon! You used to lose every time when we'd play at work"

"That was you, but whatever", Jill bantered back.

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

Nearly two whole hours went by while the group played cards, and as Jill had accurately predicted, Chris never won a single round.

"Alright, Chris. Draw four", Claire slammed the card down on top of the pile.

"...Not again", the man sighed, pathetically taking four more cards from the other deck.

"See, I told you guys he's not as good as he thinks", Jill smirked.

"Okay, well, if you lose this round, you have to give me twenty bucks", Chris betted.

"You're on!", Jill exclaimed, pointing a finger at him.

Suddenly, a smell similar to burnt meat wafted from the kitchen area.

"Wait, does anyone smell that?", Sherry noted.

The card game came to a pause as Claire sniffed the air, "Oh yeah...It smells like something's burning"

A gasp then came from Leon, "Oh my god, The roast!"

The man then shot up from where he was sitting and ran into the kitchen. Practically sliding across the floor, he opened up the top oven, unveiling a thick cloud of steam and smoke. Grabbing the pair of oven mitts that had been left out on the counter next to the oven, he quickly pried the roast out of the oven.

"Is it still okay to eat at least?", asked Claire, who was just entering the kitchen.

Leon took another look at the charcoal-colored meat and took off the oven mitts, "Honestly, I don't think so. Even if it was, it would still taste pretty bad"

Claire sighed, "Okay, well, why don't I take care of the rest. The dog is waiting at the door if you wanna take him out to pee"

Porkchop was so quiet for still being a puppy that Leon nearly forgot he had been sitting patiently at the door for at least five minutes, "Yeah, sure"

It's not like he couldn't have used some fresh air away from the lingering burning smell anyway.

...

Leon sat on the front steps of the house with Porkchop sniffing around the grass for a spot to do his business. The sky was nearly completely dark by this point, despite the clock only reading "5:45" when he went outside, and the air was so crisp it almost hurt his skin when the wind blew.

The streets and other houses in the neighborhood were silent probably filled and busy with families celebrating the holidays. There was the exception of the sound of someone walking down the street in Leon's direction. he would have assumed it was someone walking their dog, but he also didn't think someone would be walking a dog in what sounded like heels. Or maybe they would.

The clopping of the footsteps grew louder and closer, until the person came into view, only visible by the front yard light of the house.

The person appeared to be a woman, with short, dark colored hair, red heels, a black leather coat, and sunglasses for some strange reason, as it hadn't even been sunny all day.

She appeared to stand still, glancing around for about thirty or so seconds before Leon decided to confront her.

"Excuse me, miss. Are you lost?", he called out to her, getting up from the front step.

She continued to stand still for another few seconds, barely even flinching at the sound of his voice amidst the silence.

Leon then got the sense that perhaps she was drunk, he was a former cop after all. Usually that wouldn't be common so early in the evening, but it was the holidays so you never knew.

He got closer to the woman and reached his hand out, "Ma'am?"

It was at that moment that she suddenly swiveled around to face him, making Leon jump back a few feet.

There was no doubt about it, he definitely recognized her.

"Leon?", she muttered out quietly.

Leon squinted his eyes to get a better look, as he couldn't believe what he was seeing. The woman was none other than the agent he'd met in Raccoon City, the one who'd suddenly kissed him in the cable car, the one who was supposed to be dead. Ada Wong.

"Ada?! I-Is that really you?", He blurted out.

"In the flesh", she replied bluntly, tucking away her sunglasses in her jacket pocket.

"But you-"

"I know", she now was looking him directly in the eyes.

"I made it out"

Leon was speechless.

Ada continued, "I was hoping I'd see you again, but..."

"It seems you've, well...It seems you've found your way"

"What do you mean?", he asked her, confused.

"You have that woman...and the young girl", she says.

"Uh...yeah, but-"

"But nothing", she interrupts him, her voice now loud and clear.

"We had something...but what we had was nothing compared to the bond you have with them"

"Ada...", Leon whispers, as light snow begins to fall almost right on cue.

Her voice shakes, "Go be with them...Go on with your life. If anything, you of all people deserve it"

Leon blinks and nods his head, "Okay..."

Ada smiles emotionally, something he'd never seen her do before, "Thank you, Leon. For everything"

With that, he turns away from her. Ada stands there for awhile, watching as he and the dog go back into the house, and how he turns back around before heading inside, mouthing a quiet "You're welcome" to her.

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

"Wow, it's really coming down out there", Jill mentions, referring to the snowfall, which had grown heavy outside.

"I wonder if we'll be able to play in it tomorrow!", Sherry added, taking a bite of a slice of takeout pizza, which they'd ended up getting in place of the inedible roast.

"I bet we will!", Claire elbowed her playfully.

She then looked over at Leon, who was staring off into space, "Hey, you alright, Leon?"

The man in question's head jolted upward, "Oh, uh, yeah. Sorry"

"Did something happen?", Claire asked.

"No. Just thinking about some things, that's all", he replied.

"Okay...", she shrugged.

"OH! Speaking of which, Sherry, do you want to open a present now?", Claire turned towards the young girl.

"Yeah!", she exclaimed.

"Shouldn't we wait for Chris to get home?", Jill asks, referring to the fact that he'd gone out to pick out a last-minute Christmas movie from the video rental store.

Claire and Leon looked at each other, and then back at Sherry who was already picking out a present from under the tree.

"I think we'll do a present now", Claire nods.

Sherry rummages through the pile of presents to find one with her name on it, until she comes across a medium-sized envelope reading "To Sherry, From Claire and Leon".

"What's in here?", she turns to them.

Both of them freeze up.

"Are you sure you want to open that one now?", Leon asks.

Claire also tries to convince her to open a different one, "Yeah, are you sure? It may not look it, but that one's pretty special..."

"Can I please open this one now?", As much as they tried, Sherry already had her heart set on that one.

"I suppose", Leon sighs playfully.

Without hesitation, Sherry was already opening the envelope carefully so not to rip the folded piece of paper inside. She tosses the envelope to the side and quickly unveils the contents of what appears to be a letter:

Dear Sherry,

We know more than anyone else in the whole world that you've been through a lot more than most 10-year-olds.

But what's important is that we're all still here. We made it.  Together 

What's also important is the fact that we'd love nothing more than for you to spend the remainder of your childhood with us.

In other words, we've both made the important  decision to step up and become your adoptive parents.

We have already signed the papers, but we figured we'd need your approval as well before making things official.

So, will you accept us as your parents?

Love,

Claire and Leon

The girl jumps up and gasps, "You...want to adopt me?"

The two new parents nod in unison. Before they can even say anything else, Sherry jumps into their arms, embracing them both in a big hug.

"Yes...Yes! Thank you so much! I...I love you guys!", she cries out, happy tears streaming down her face.

The three of them spend the next few seconds hugging, even with the adults getting teary-eyed themselves.

"We love you too, Sherry", Leon says, hugging her tighter.

"So much", Claire adds.

At that moment, the front door opens, entering Chris holding a plastic bag with a VHS tape inside.

He freezes when he reaches the living room to see Claire, Leon and Sherry crying and hugging while Jill watches fondly from the couch.

"Isn't it so cute?!", she says.

Chris looks around the room, "What did I just miss...?"

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

Two and a half hours later...

The living room was dark, only lit by the light from the end scene of the movie they had been watching. Sherry was already fast asleep, laying in between her new parents. Chris looked over next to him at Jill, who was still awake, but sleepily resting her head on his shoulder, which he somehow had just realized.

It was right before the credits began to roll when Jill whispered to him, "Would you ever want children, Chris?"

She could tell Chris was blushing even through the darkness, "Uh-I don't really know..."

"I never really thought about that to be honest", he lowered his voice back to a slight whisper.

Jill chuckled softly, "Just teasing you, Redfield"

...

Sherry awoke as she felt herself being carried up the stairs. 

"Leon?", she muttered out sleepily.

"Shhh, go back to sleep, just taking you up to bed", he whispered to her.

A few seconds passed, and before Leon thought she'd fallen back to sleep, she spoke again, "Um...Can I sleep in you and Claire's bed tonight?"

He paused at the top of the stairs, "Why?"

"I just wanna be with you guys longer..."

Leon smiles, "Okay, fine"

As he entered their room, Claire was just getting into bed, "I thought you were taking her to her room"

"She wants to stay with us tonight if its okay", Leon replies tiredly.

"Sure", Claire says.

Leon places her down in the middle of the bed and tucks her in. Then, he gets into bed, switching off the lamp, before laying down to sleep. The bed is a bit crammed now, but surely they'd make it work. 

"Hey, guys?", Sherry whispers, making sure they were still awake to hear her.

"Hm?", they both turn to face her.

"Thank you for everything..."

"No need to thank us. We'll always be here", Claire says.

With that, the three of them fall asleep, dreaming of more times they'll be together.

The End?

[trashcanplant]

He was a Punk who did Ballet - Reboot Jonesy Fruitbat

Reboot AU belongs to @bloodrediscream According to him, Jonesy Fruitbat was a “Punk Rock Bad Boy” (Jonesy, 1998). Considering his history of straight A’s and how he never even stole from his parents liquor store, it’s safe to say that actions speak louder than words.

He was 16 years old, and about 2 years deep into his exploration of punk rock. He lived in a neighborhood that loved music, from his family’s apartment he could always hear a band playing somewhere nearby. Jonesy relished it. He found himself drawn to those sharp chords, loud lyrics, and the way that their hair was styled. It was an art form! Performance! And while Jonesy would never admit it, he loved to perform.

When he turned 12, his parents noticed the way he’d dance. Always so graceful and poised. So they enrolled him in ballet, and it was safe to say that he loved it. Getting all dressed up, spinning, doing his hair, even the makeup of it. It was just like the bands he watched from the pits!

Jonesy was practicing in the small lot by his building, his point shoes on his furry blue feet, laced up as he hopped across strategically laid out cardboard. He had the Tchaikovsky playing on his small CD player nearby. His company was preparing for their annual Nutcracker Ballet and Jonesy was proud (if not slightly embarrassed) to be the Rat King. He thought it was strange because bats were considered angel rats. He didn’t know if he should be offended or not.

While he practiced, moving his arms and jumping quickly across the packing board, he turned and saw a passerby. Oh god not her.

Resident cheer-monger and baggy jean wearer Julie Joyful paused her conversation on her phone before whispering into the receiver.

“I’m gonna have to call you back, Sal.”

Jonesy tried his best to throw on his battle jacket and his high top boots while turning off the music and not taking his pointe shoes off. What happened was he fell face first on the cardboard and made a small squeak as he did. Julie found herself laughing.

“Oh em gee, Jonesy, what’s this? I didn’t know you could dance like that!”

She squealed, running over to try and pick the teen up off the ground. He grumbled.

“Ugh! No I can’t! Get your hands off me! Stop touching me!”

He squeaked angrily, standing up on his own accord, but falling down again when his knee length leather platforms couldn’t stand him not being fully strapped in. Jonesy laid on the ground, sniveling like a pathetic little boy. He hated this, and Julie’s laughing didn’t help.

“Well what was that? I see your pretty pink ballerina shoes! I didn’t know boys could do ballet! Let alone one as..”

Julie threw up the rock and roll hand sign and shook her head while whisper screaming.

“You. Y’know?”

Jonesy sat up on the ground, taking his boots off and fully exposing in their glory his rather fetching pink pointe shoes. He looked embarrassed, drawing his lips in a tight line and trying to think of a comeback to get her to leave him alone.

“Talk to the hand cause the face doesn’t wanna listen, Jules.”

Jonesy held his palm out to her. She giggled, splaying his fingers to look at her.

“Come on, kid! You were actually really good! Don’t play all mean with me, or else I’ll tell Howdy and Paulie-“

“Okay okay jeez! Don’t bring them into this, I don’t want them to know I dance! It’s embarrassing!”

Jonesy squeaked and closed his eyes. He started unraveling his pointe shoes from his feet. He looked at his bandages that kept him in check and then Julie again.

“It’s not embarrassing! It’s super impressive! I mean, I could never do that! It’s so cool!”

The awkward teenager scoffed. As if she could ever understand. Julie was so one dimensional with her stupid peppy attitude. She didn’t have to hide a soft part about herself with an equal love for metal. Jonesy crossed his arms.

“Whatever. As long as you don’t tell anyone, I don’t care!”

He huffed, shoving his pointe shoes into his duffle bag with the CD player. The Fruitbat then laced up his boots and walked away with a huff.

It had been a long emotionally exhausting day. But now, he got to go to work. Jonesy slid his white and blue striped shirt on and the little paper hat. He, similarly to ballet, would never admit how much he loved working at Howdy’s. It just made him so happy! He waved goodbye to his parents, giving his mom a hug.

He walked to Howdy’s. It wasn’t that far away anyway. Going in, he saw the namesake of the store sitting there with his cousin Paulette.

“Paul I just don’t understand your obsession with making these silly little pictures. Sure, they’re funny, but what’s it doing for you?”

Howdy asked, raising his upper left hand in a question.

Paulette, dressed in a blue star printed sweatsuit, chuckled.

“It’s the future of communication, cuz! Like, look at my MySpace page! Howdy, the internet is the future! Just call me da bomb, cause I’m blowin’ up! Kaching! Oh, there’s Jonesy! Hey little dude!”

Paulette said, waving at the teen as he walked in behind the counter and slumped. He groaned, resting his head on the counter.

“What’s the matter, Jonesy? Can’t follow whatever nonsense my cousins saying either? I’m telling you, I don’t trust her.”

Howdy said with a shiver, patting Jonesy on the back lightly as he perked up.

“It’s not that. You know how I was telling you guys about how I have an upcoming show?”

The caterpillars nodded, waiting for the bat to continue.

“I was practicing out on the empty lot and Julie saw me and started laughing.”

“Oh, why I oughta-! She knows better than that! You’re self conscious, I get it, son, but eventually the shows gonna come around and you’re gonna have to perform for everybody!”

Howdy spoke comfortingly, patting Jonesy’s back gently. He looked up with a sigh.

“I know.. but maybe, too help me feel better after this embarrassing day I’ve had-“

The clerk rolled his eyes before Jonesy said anything else. He chuckled, heading over to the slushy machines.

“You’re lucky I like you so much. I don’t even give free slushes to Paulie and they’re my flesh and blood!”

“Blood may be thicker than water, but slushees are thicker than blood.”

Jonesy said with a grin, taking the strawberry slushee that Howdy gave him and sipping it. Maybe today wouldn’t be so bad after all.

[jodilin65]

SATURDAY, JANUARY 31, 1998 Well, no wonder they’ve been behaving next door with the exception of a little music on occasion. They were hoping to go to court with me and yes, they do suspect I threw the bottle, cuz they are trying to “have me served.” The first thing that went through my mind was that someone had to have seen me (but God only knows how), or that they were just so desperate to pin it on me anyway. Tom says you can tell in which direction a bottle was thrown by the way it scatters. Yeah, I thought about that, but I didn’t think the sick fucks would have brains enough to figure that one out. I think it was the cops who did, in which case I should’ve known better and shouldn’t have thrown the bottle. And of course, God just won’t let me get away with shit. I have no pity, guilt, remorse, or feelings of concern for these sick fucks whatsoever, but I am ashamed of myself for letting my husband down. This is one hell of a husband I’ve got who still loves me, and who says we’ll deal with whatever happens together when he could’ve turned his back on me. It is for him that I feel the shame, the guilt, and the remorse. As for the freeloaders, they fucked with me. I fucked back. Tom says “getting even” should mean that we do our best to better our lives, etc. Well, that goes without saying, but I meant it when I said that I give what I get. Tom says I just have to accept the fact that the world isn’t fair and that some people are gonna get away with things while others can’t. We agreed not to open the door to anyone, but we’re not gonna change our lives by hiding or making up stories. Like he said, if we get served, we get served. If we must go to court, we will. Meanwhile, we agreed I’d deny knowing a thing about it, but again, no stories. If they ask if there have been any problems with these people, I’ll tell them about the music. As Tom pointed out, due to the fact that I’m not alone with nothing, I couldn’t get a free lawyer, but if it came to court, I’m not gonna pay a lawyer to defend me over a thrown bottle. I’d just represent myself if it came to court.

I don’t know if they know yet that I haven’t been served, but there’s been a lot of door-slamming. Again, I don’t care if these people dropped dead and they can be happy, sad, rich or poor, but I guess I realized too late that the bottle was a bad idea. There were other things I could’ve done. Now I have to worry all the more, especially if I dodge court, that there’ll be more music problems and that they may even fuck with this house. Tom says that we’ll just have to live with whatever they do, but no way. I may have to pay for every little thing I do, but that doesn’t mean that they’re gonna get away with fucking with me. They can’t prove I threw that bottle. All they can do is suspect, but I disagree about us not being able to do anything if the letter we sent has a part in the music toning down. Even if it doesn’t, they still live in a house owned by the city and that’s a great advantage to us. Tom says maybe it’ll blow over, but that seems to be one stubborn bitch over there, so we’ll see. I asked God to please take it out on me. Meaning that Tom’s the one who works and whose name the house is in, so he could be the one to have to pay for this. In my little chat with God last night, I told him that if I must pay for what I’ve done, OK, but please let it be me to pay for it. I was the one who threw the bottle. Not Tom. I told him I didn’t want to go to court and have to have Tom pay for my actions, so please punish me. You know, 20 more pounds, continuing sterility, etc. Andy never had to go to court about the calls he made a few years ago to this customer and a detective said he’d have to, but he’s Andy. And God does favor Andy a bit more over me, even if there are others he loves even more than Andy. I’ve seen Andy get away with things I could only dream of getting away with. Scott never had to pay for his stealing his VCRs and I’d think that theft would be more serious than vandalism. Scott knew Andy was gonna have him served, so he didn’t answer his door, and they never went to court and Andy never saw his VCRs again. Again, though, that’s Scott and Andy. Not me. God’s standards for me are different.

Anyway, the court server left a card that said, “Jody, give me a call.”

Couldn’t even spell my name right. This card was face down on the ground, too, not taped to the door or in the mailbox slot. He came knocking again yesterday too, so who knows how many times he’ll keep trying?

FRIDAY, JANUARY 30, 1998 Yuck, the weekend’s almost here. I haven’t heard any dog or music yet. My guess is that the dog won’t come till around the same time the last dog did. Probably between May and July, they’ll get a dog. I thought about it and realized that the reason they may not want to get a dog now, is cuz that’d show they were afraid of their tormentor, and they wouldn’t want that! My guess is that there’s a 50/50 chance they’ll act up this weekend. If they suspect me, they might, cuz they’d want to see if yet a third outburst from them brought another letter/bottle a few days afterward. If they don’t suspect me, they may be quiet, seeing that they just had a get-together.

I wasn’t here yesterday at lunchtime to know if he was a problem coming and going. All I’ve heard so far are car doors. The day they pulled in and up to the bottle, from what I saw, it was his car, so I think that he, she, the little one, and the teenage boy found the bottle together. Yesterday, though, I think she came in by some ride, like usual, then he came in later.

Later…

Today was like old times singing, in a way. I was congested and had to clear my throat a lot. God and his fucking compensations, boy I’ll tell you! Isn’t the fact that my nose is no better enough? Or the fact that I’m sterile? Or fat? Speaking of that, I haven’t been as hungry the last couple of days, and could that, and the fact that I’ve lost a few pounds, and have a slight good feeling about it, mean I’m gonna lose weight? Probably not. At least, it’s something I couldn’t believe unless I did lose weight.

In case I forgot to say - Tom says we don’t have to put off moving till after his mother dies. We can get to a place suitable for us that’d only take 15-25 minutes to drive into the city.

Tom was telling me he had a death dream where we were discussing dying, and what we’d do during our time left. He also said I was a rhinoceros through all of it. Yeah, I’m sure that dream was triggered by the loss of Spunky. I had some strange dreams, too, where Ma bought the Harley Hotel I worked at the Enfield, Connecticut/Longmeadow, Mass. line. She had it moved out here too (his ma). His father was in the dream, too, playing the harmonica on a screen in a theater that was apparently added on, then he jumped out in person to say hello to Tom and I. There were other bits and pieces of dreams I remember too, and in one of them, I saw Spunky and an all-black GP.

Tammy called just to say hi. Just to say hi. I couldn’t believe it. She usually never would call unless something was wrong or if she needed something. She says all’s going great. I’m so happy for her. She deserves to be happy for once.

Haven’t heard from my folks yet on AOL, but I’m sure I will soon enough.

We may not do any recording till Monday, which I’d prefer. This would suit his schedule better and I’d be less stressed out and worried that the freeloader may bang in. So, all that could really be noisy then would be dogs and car doors.

I took Tweety outside (in his cage, of course) and put him on the patio for some fresh polluted air (all those snowbirds are here). He didn’t really like this arrangement, though, cuz he was cornered on all 4 corners and very nervous. He had me in front of him, a cat to his left, a pigeon behind him, and a rabbit to his right. Tweety’s still very shy. Even my pigeons, especially Measles, are braver and less afraid of me.

The teeth cleaning went swiftly enough, and she said my teeth were less stained. I have another cavity that has to be filled in two weeks. Meanwhile, they’re gonna take care of this nuisance of an impaction, too. They’re gonna pull the baby tooth, but how they’ll walk the adult tooth up front, we’re not sure yet. We have two choices. We can get this retainer type thing for about $800 or go with braces and that’d be just over a G. Our insurance, of course, we’ll pay at least half of it. Tom’s gonna look at the price charts, but I was thinking I’d probably go with the retainer. As he says, if it costs $400 it’s still worth it cuz it’ll be a one-time deal and then I’d never have to worry about this shit again. I can go days without it irritating me, but then it gets irritated and bugs the hell out of me. It’s hard to clean in between it, too, and it’s coming down more. So, if I did nothing, the baby tooth would more than likely get pushed out and then the teeth that’d be next to the gap it left, would shift and want to fill in that gap.

THURSDAY, JANUARY 29, 1998 Got up at 7:30, fed the animals, had my coffee, took my shower, had my daily sneezing fit, tied my hair in a knot at the nape of my neck (a knot on top of my head’s too heavy when it’s wet), and now I’m ready to update.

This is going to come as a sudden shock, but Spunky’s dead. I’ve never seen anything like it. He just practically up and died. I don’t know if God’s compensating me by taking his life so soon cuz of how long Piggy lived, or what, but we think he may have had a tumor. It could’ve burst and poisoned him, and one side of his tummy seemed pretty distended, but we just don’t know for sure. His duties never looked right and he did get awfully big real fast, so given this, and the way he was so unusually timid and starving when we got him, tells us that maybe something was wrong with him from the get-go. Tom buried him out back.

In other animal news, Patch had her babies, but it’s hard to tell how many with 3-4 litters all piled together. The oldest are just starting to sprout their fur and are becoming more mobile. A couple of Patch’s babies were stillborn and she was bleeding from her crotch. I had been worried about her, but she’s fine and much smaller now. She had been fat! Spot’s next to deliver and now it looks like Bandit may have kids, too. The only one that may not be pregnant, for reasons I just don’t know, is Tanner. It’s too bad that if one escaped pregnancy it was Tanner, cuz she’s the only tan-colored one. If she had had a litter, there may have been a wider variety of colors.

And now I’m 127. I knew I’d gain weight when I quit smoking but does this no longer have anything to do with that? How is it that I’m gaining 2 pounds a week now? What’s going on? Well, all I can do is wonder, but I have to just accept it. There’s nothing I can do about it. Even the bra my ma brought out that was slightly big on me fits perfectly now. Where are these tits coming from? It’s like they’re not even mine.

Tom brought some really neat hand cleaner back from Ma’s yesterday. Bobby had brought it over from the mall. He’s the one who works at a bookstore and brings Mom boxes of books that don’t sell. This gel kills germs in 30 seconds without water and smells really nice.

Tom said the only thing that really bugs him about Ma staying at Mary’s is cuz they’re slobs. Filthy slobs, not just cluttered, unorganized slobs. Their bathrooms and kitchen are caked with dirt.

Today I go get my teeth cleaned at 1 PM

Later…

Tom just got in from work and we were checking out the babies. There must be 20 of them! He’s got a point when he says that it may be a good thing Tanner isn’t having babies, or else I could end up with those ugly white mice. As each litter gets old enough to be separated from its mom, we’ll take the males out and put them in their own cage till the youngest males are old enough to go, too, then we’ll take them to the pet store.

Tom says he didn’t hear anything, but I could’ve sworn I heard freeloader music at around 1 PM, then we both thought we heard car doors a couple of hours earlier, and I wouldn’t be surprised if he were coming in for lunch again, but I don’t know. This was yesterday that I thought that it was a freeloader I heard, but today I won’t be here at lunchtime to know if he acts up.

Tom said that the reason he was gung-ho about doing some songs with me, is cuz this is something that’s fun and that we can control. We can’t just go to the doctor for a magic pregnancy pill, though, that’ll give us an instant child.

I went off on Tom a few days ago and I feel bad about it. He says he understands, but whether or not I’ve had him figured all wrong, I’m sorry for yelling at him and calling him names.

I was utterly shocked at his suggestion, too. He thinks we should see a doctor within the next 6 months and get the ball rolling. That way we can figure it into our moving plans.

OK, what’s new in Freeloader Land… I was sitting in the living room reading, so I heard them come in at 4:45 (no music). I heard several car doors over a period of an hour. Maybe a little more. I also heard voices. The voices I mainly heard were those of kids and of the boy who lives there. At least I think that’s who it was. These things not only look the same. They sound the same. All I know is that the voice sounded black, close, and not under 15 years old. I didn’t hear the bitch yelling like I thought I would. There were people out talking from the time they came in; till the time I went to bed at 6:00. I didn’t hear how long they stayed out gabbing, naturally, cuz of the fan/noise machine. I don’t know if they called the cops, but I sure did hear something weird and that was this strange ticking sound. It sounded like a car motor as well and if it was, it wasn’t their car. Their car doesn’t tick. I also wondered if it was the cops with something to see if they could test for evidence, but wouldn’t they take the glass, bag it up, and then bring it to a lab? Besides, what with the way cops tend to brush things off, I wouldn’t think they’d bother over a smashed bottle. They’ve got too many murders to solve and killers to catch.

So, so far, it doesn’t look like anything will come out of this, but I’m going to definitely lay off as far as the vandalism goes. If there’s anything I and these bent fucks have in common, it’s that stubbornness and that resistance to intimidation. We don’t run away from trouble. We face it. So, this is gonna piss these people off and maybe they’ll wonder about it and have to live with being paranoid when they’re away from the house, but this would never be enough to drive them out of there. Also, these people are very sick individuals and they could do something to this house on just pure speculation that I had anything to do with it. It would take violence or some ongoing thing, like me depriving them of their sleep, to drive them out of here. The sleep thing’s debatable, though. If they were that stubborn, they may try to legally do something about it if that place is worth their staying in to them.

So that should sum it up. No more vandalism, although I may be very noisy at night, depending on what they do. This could cause them to act up to see if it’s me. Meaning if they have the brains to realize that the last two outbursts of theirs brought mail and bottles, they may want to try to bait me. They may also have a camcorder trained on the side/front of their house right now.

WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 28, 1998 It seems I can’t get caught up with the writing these days! Anyway, I’m making spag, but I thought I’d update while it was cooking and while I had a plateful.

They haven’t come to the door as of yet about the bottle, but God’s begun his payback for me. I actually woke up at 11:30 last night wheezing. No, it wasn’t anything like old times and how I’d wheeze when I smoked, and one shot cleared it instantly, then I went back to bed.

Tom says it was cuz the weather’s been warmer and that traps in the pollution and that’s another reason we have to move. Speaking of that, he says things are looking even better for that, although it won’t be this year, cuz interest rates have dropped even lower.

Then two hours after falling back asleep, I awoke with those oh-so-familiar hunger pains, so I got up, grabbed a piece of bread and a few swallows of water, then crashed till I got up at 5:30. I got up and was so hungry that I had a small TV dinner right away. I never used to do that. For as far as I can remember, I didn’t eat the first few hours I’d be up. Now I wake up so hungry that I’ve got to have something. And even then, I may still be hungry. But like I said, I’ve already resigned myself to the fact that there’s nothing I can do about it. My weight’s gonna keep climbing a few pounds a week till it decides to stop, and God only knows when it’ll decide that. I may have gotten my way as far as being able to not pick up a cigarette, light it, and smoke it, but God owns my body for the most part. Always has, always will, so it’s his to do as he sees fit.

Andy finally called and asked to come over this Saturday to take a half-hour out to tell me what’s been going on with him. I told him that’d be OK, but is he gonna pester me in person now that he can’t get me by phone as much? A part of it is Laura. He wouldn’t be coming over in the first place if it wasn’t to get her money, but can’t he ever associate with someone he can trust? Even he says he has to “hide” things from her. How can he live like that? If I felt I had to hide my stuff from whoever I was living with, I’d have a real problem. And he’s talking about lowering himself to going out with Quinn again, too. He also says God’s answered all his prayers for this year so far. Well, I’m glad God answers all of some people’s prayers.

Later…

I can’t believe that Patch still hasn’t had her babies yet. Patch and Spot may be the only two left with babies, then we’ll have to segregate in a few weeks. I find it really unfair, though, that while we’ve been trying unsuccessfully for years to have a child of our own, these mice are having babies left and right. I sit here and just dream of a child and meanwhile, we’ve got to scurry like hell to keep more and more litters from coming. God, that’s insulting! That is just so incredibly insulting to know that God can find mice more deserving and more capable of having kids than I am.

TUESDAY, JANUARY 27, 1998 Ah, so we freeloaders are leaving for work now, instead of 7:00, huh? After they slammed me twice, I ran up front and saw it leave. It still isn’t coming in for lunch these days that I know of, but it just may have some glass to clean up when it comes in at the end of the day. I assume that the house is empty from now till around 4:00, but it’s OK if there’s someone in there. I can still go to the side of the house and hurl a bottle over the block wall and into their carport. So whether or not someone’s there, it’ll look like a drunk and or drunken potential burglar was stalking around. Whereas if something was thrown over in the middle of the night, it’d look more obvious that it’s me behind it and they can suspect me, but I don’t want them to know it’s me till after we’re gone, so they can’t fuck with our house. I don’t stand by all our windows 24/7, so if someone were to approach the house with bad intentions, I wouldn’t necessarily know it in time to stop them. Anyway, I’m not gonna hurl the bottle till around 10:00. No, I haven’t heard his music yet, but I know I will, so I may as well get this over with. I’ve been wanting to start carrying out some of my harassment/terror plans anyway, and I’m just so angry. I hate these motherfuckers, and it’s either this or my beating them up and Tom doesn’t want me to. A part of me is hoping that the bitch comes over to ask if I did it and maybe even threaten me too, so I can beat her ass and his too. Meaning that maybe they’ll give me a reason, and someone screaming in my face at my door seems reason enough. But this bottle and other things are well overdue. These people have thumbed their noses at me long enough. I mean, who the fuck do they think they are to come into this neighborhood like they own it and to harass me with their noise like they have? His music’s gonna come back and so is a dog. It may not be the same dog, but they’ll get one. Trust me.

I am absolutely blown away by the fact that Andy hasn’t called since I left him that message yesterday. This has to mean that something’s going on, but I’m sure he’ll call today. If he doesn’t, then something’s really wrong over there.

Tom brought the guys to the store yesterday and they lucked out. The store had no room for them cuz someone had just brought in tons of mice, but this employee who’s a mouse breeder took them. She says she’ll take them at any age. She breeds and trades mice with other breeders. It’s nice to know my mice will go with this woman to her home, rather than to wonder what became of them. In a few weeks, we’ll bring in the babies. She’s using my cage to transport the mice home, which she says we can pick up on Friday. I guess that’s when she’ll be working again, but I hope she doesn’t intend to keep the cage. You know me - can’t trust anyone. Tom says he doubts she’d want to get fired over a $12 cage. People are weird. You never know.

I changed the mice’s cages earlier since cedar is supposed to be bad for them. There are 16 babies currently.

A few days ago I had asked Tom if he’d want to do a simple arrangement to me singing a few songs, so I could maybe send tapes (if I wasn’t that disgusted with what I heard) to my folks, Tammy and Larry. He said he’d love to and was really gung-ho about it and to please pick out sheet music for a couple of songs (he reads better than I do and I play better by ear). I had forgotten all about it for a few days, but he reminded me in the message he left me before work, to pick out some songs for him to work on so we could do some stuff this weekend. He said he’s anxious about it and boy does he sound it! He’s way more anxious about that than the idea of seeing if a doctor could fix me. I mean, he could never be as anxious about the idea of us being able to have a child, as he could be about anything, meanwhile, he continues to put off, make excuses, and swear he does want a child, he isn’t afraid to go to a doctor, etc. He said the same old shit about getting a physical soon and hoping I will, too. I think that if he does get a physical, it’ll only be to encourage me to get one too, since it’s been a while for me. He says it’s best that we deal with my situation, though, cuz if we don’t, it’ll follow us wherever we go. True, but still, his actions and words don’t match, and we’ve got a double whammy on us here. We both have a problem. I’m sterile, and he won’t cum but once every 2-4 months. The first thing they’re gonna do is try to find out why he won’t cum much and get him to cum more. Then, I’ll have to go through all the shit of what’s wrong with me and what can/can’t be done, etc., and it’s a no-win situation here for sure. Nothing anyone can do can fix things so I can have a child. God’s just blocked every single avenue on me and has made it thoroughly impossible. I’d have a better chance at becoming president or an Olympic gymnast than I’d have of ever getting pregnant. God must really hate me and think I’m a hell of a wimp who can’t handle shit.

Later…

I threw the bottle at about 9:30 and my assumption was correct - there’s no one home, cuz I didn’t hear anyone come out to check around and there was no cruiser called over there. If he doesn’t come in for lunch, my guess is that it’ll be the bitch to discover the broken glass first (in the middle of the carport). I heard voices out back a little while ago, but that could’ve come from two yards down where they do daycare where the guard dogs are. Now all I have to do is hope that this doesn’t scare them into getting a dog, but like I said, they’ll get another one sooner or later. I also have to hope that they don’t automatically assume it’s me and fuck with this house or “have me served” as the bitch said she’d do if I shot her dog. I think it’s much more likely that she’ll come over here asking questions about it, but I won’t answer the door, so please God, don’t have Tom be awake if and when she comes to the door. Just like with the letter, I’d rather he not know about this now, cuz you know how paranoid he is and how anti-trouble he is. I also hope they weren’t on the brink of a breakup cuz this could end up keeping them together for a while longer, although they’ve been together an unusually long time, so they may not break up for 10 years.

Later…

Now this is a beautiful day we’re having. Larry and Tammy would be jealous for sure. It’s to be in the mid-70s today. In general, though, this is the coldest winter I’ve been here for. Even Tom agrees that it’s been a very cold winter. So, so far, that makes the winter of ‘97-‘98 the coldest for me and the summer of ‘92 the hottest.

We planted 6 cactuses that Ma gave us. Tom put chicken wire around them to keep Bunny from destroying them. I just don’t know how the hell that rabbit can chew up cactuses without the needles stabbing the hell out of him. I never would’ve dreamed that this rabbit could chew up cactuses.

I still haven’t heard from Andy! I can’t believe it. This is just totally amazing. If I don’t hear from him by tomorrow afternoon, I just may start to worry.

OK, gonna sign off for now and hopefully there’ll be no knocks at the door within the next few hours. They asked for trouble from me a long time ago. They got it now, though they should’ve had it much sooner than this.

MONDAY, JANUARY 26, 1998 I’m really in a shitty mood right now. It figures, huh? First, something’s going on even more fucked up and abnormal with my plumbing, I want to get the fuck out of this animalistic city, and my husband’s still too busy doing for others first, putting off our lives, and not seemingly interested in me one bit. I may have had an all-time low appetite, but just the thought of knowing that my husband doesn’t seem to want me in bed kind of stings a little.

Since the 21st I had a few measly little spots. Then last evening at 8:00, I had such cramps that I thought I finally had a full flow when all I had were a few good-sized spots (enough to prove my point about being sterile yet again, though). I still haven’t had a full flow, either, but maybe I will by the next time I get up. These are more than just little spots now and are bright red but are mostly stuff I’m wiping off and that’s not big enough in volume to hit my panty-liner.

Anyway, Tom was supposed to bring the males to the pet store and change the big guy’s cage, but what did he get tied up doing instead? Working on Mary’s car again. Can’t she see that he’s got to have a life too, and can’t she take care of her own damn car? Is this gonna be a regular thing here? Is she gonna have him work on her car every few weeks? What’s she gonna do when we move? I’m sure she’ll still call him for help and that’d be worse, cuz then he’d have longer to drive to get there, so that’d be more time doing stuff that we’d lose. If Dave and other family members were as smart as Tom, that’d be different, but instead, they have to come first. First off, I don’t think I’ll ever have the guts to go to a doctor just to be told they can’t help me have a child, but if I wanted to, I know I’m gonna have to wait till after Ma’s gone. It’s like she comes first, then I can maybe get on with my life. And I don’t care if this sounds selfish, cuz I have things I want and need to do, too. I’ve had it with this parent-care trip. In a sense, we had a boy and a girl. First we take care of daddy and now it’s mommy. Like I said, I’m sick of living for his parents and for his sister’s car. I have to put off what matters to me and let them be the #1 priority, like it or not.

I’m gonna go do some picture scanning for Bob. I got 9 of just me and one with Kim and I from when I moved into the Habitat building in S. Deerfield.

Later…

I called Andy and let him know that my schedule won’t be on nights when he comes to get the rent money, so it’s OK for him to go ahead and tell me about the convention/Quinn on the phone, which I’m sure will take 2-3 hours. I’ll just keep my hands tied up and maybe bang away at the computer. Anyway, I’m sure he’ll be very happy to leave me 4 messages about it.

I just got slammed and ran up front so I could hear better as to how he left but didn’t see him. So the freeloader either just came out for a slam or he flew out of that driveway.

Speaking of freeloaders, I hear he was a very bad boy yesterday. Well, 3 of his low-life, rude, selfish pals were. Yeah, he and his fellow freeloading buddies are one and the same. I’m sure that if he asked them not to come banging in, they wouldn’t any more than he wouldn’t if he were asked not to. Very fortunately for them, I slept fine, or else we’d have a pack of dead freeloaders here for sure. You start fucking with my sleep, you die. Anyway, I got up at 8:30 for an hour, then went back to sleep till 10:00. Meanwhile, Tom left a message just before 4:00 saying he should’ve known better but it’s Super Bowl Sunday, so there are cars parked in the driveway and hopefully no one will play ball. 3 cars came in next door, all playing music. He said it wasn’t too loud, but annoying enough. Then he left another message at 7:30 before heading out for work, saying the game was over and he expected some shouting. Oh yeah, I’m sure they really carried on like assholes. Not like they would’ve if it was hot out, though. And of course, everyone had to go to the freeloader’s house. The freeloaders couldn’t go to their houses. I can’t believe they don’t do Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Year’s Eve at their house. They do everything else there.

So, I only got up to take an Ibuprofen and listen to his message, but then I went back into bed. However, I was instantly aware of a slight, but sure bass beat, which wouldn’t have woken me up, but that I knew would keep me from going back to sleep. That did it. That’s when I told myself, “Look. You can’t kill the people who made these stereos and that has prevented this from being the otherwise quiet residential neighborhood that it should be, but you can set these freeloaders straight for once and for all and let them know how it’s gonna be from now on. Let them know you will not tolerate being a part of their lives, parties, or music anymore and that they cannot and will not trespass and invade this house with their music. Even if you do have to beat them into submission to get the peace that’s your right, you were here first and if they don’t like it, then they’re just gonna have to leave. Somebody’s gotta teach these freeloaders that you can’t expect to not know someone exists, while they know you do. You just can’t do that.”

So, I get dressed and go out there and all that’s there is one maroon car in the driveway that I’ve seen before, then I see Daddy’s car parked out on the road. It wasn’t even them. It was some asshole visiting the other assholes across the street. So now they’re no longer the respectful people they seemed to have been and now I got two houses full of shit to deal with. And all the while this guy’s sitting in the car with it blaring, Dan, I think his name is, is just standing there with someone else gabbing away. I don’t know how the hell they could carry on a conversation, but nonetheless, I asked them to turn it down and they did, but here’s my question - how often is this boy gonna come around? It’s obvious now that this Dan boy does still live there and I don’t know if he’s a high school or college kid, but am I gonna be back to old times with these assholes again, too? What if they decide to form a band again? They may respect me enough to keep their practice volume down, cuz they’re not 100% rude and selfish like the freeloaders are, but then I’d have to listen to several cars bang in and out once a week or so.

Fuck this shit and this fucking animalistic city! But like Tom said, though, just one or two more Super Bowls and yeah, maybe he’s right about there being just two more years that we have to stay here. I just wish Mom and Mary’s car didn’t have to come first, but they do. And if God really wants us to continue being #2 and to continue having things set us back from getting things done and from living our lives, he will. I have a feeling that we could suddenly be the only two people left in this world, but still, somehow and some way, he’d find shit for Tom to do to take our time away from us so things could keep on being delayed, etc.

So, what’s the bad boy’s punishment gonna be for his bad little visitors letting their arrival be known? Well, since it wasn’t Mr. Fuck himself that banged in (I saw him leave without music yesterday before his boy pals came), I’ll spare them a bottle, but that’s only for now. As soon as he bangs in and I hear it or am told about it, that’s when they’ll get the bottle and so much more. Meanwhile, I went out at about 3:30 AM and banged right back by dropping the steel rod on the concrete patio that was supposed to be for the security door to latch into. I just hope to hell that God let them hear it and that he didn’t interfere, and one of the wonderful things about this is that they’d never in a million years give me the satisfaction of complaining about noise from me and letting me know that I did something that disturbs them. Shooting a dog is one thing, but they’d never call the cops on me for bothering them with noise. Not even if they were sure it was me making noise and that it was in the middle of the night. Someone else could, but I’d just deny knowing anything about it. Like I said, though, hopefully they’ll hear it and put two and two together and realize that music means noise late at night from over here, but I still doubt they heard it. And if they did, they wouldn’t have the mentality to make the connection even if they could physically see me making noise. I’m not worried about my making noise becoming too obvious, but if I throw a bottle, I’ll have to do whatever I can to make it look like some passing bum staggered over there drunk and dropped the bottle, cuz that’s physical evidence and more of a crime than disturbing the peace is.

Later…

Well, my period can’t seem to make up its mind. It seems like it’s struggling with either going into a full flow or stopping. If it stops, then that’d be the strangest period I’ve had in years what with the 3-day spotting trip I went on before it became a cross between heavy spotting and a light period. If I have a flow where I need a few big pads which is usually the case, then that’d make it more normal, except for the 3-day spot deal. Still, it’s enough to prove my point. I am sterile unless pre-cum really does impregnate a woman very rarely. So if a woman’s chances of getting pregnant by pre-cum are lower but still OK enough, then I’m as sterile as a doorknob.

Later…

Apparently, we did a good job of sexing the mice, cuz I haven’t seen any screwing going on. They don’t know it, but the guys will be on their journey to the pet store later today. Again, I wonder what their fate will be. It kind of reminds me of when I was off to Brattleboro, or Valleyhead, or wherever. Will they ever have a wheel again and have all this space? Will they ever climb tubes again? Will they be happy? Or will they wish they could return here? Animals adapt better than humans in cases like this, I’d think, so hopefully they’ll be OK if they stay out of some snake’s gut.

Tom says Mary’s car is all fixed but trust me - she’ll need something done again within a month. And of course, Tom’s gotta be the one to move Mom into Mary’s, while the rest of the family just sits on their asses. See this is one of God’s many ways that makes absolutely no fucking sense to me whatsoever. Why not take Ma, who’s done her time here, who’s lived her destiny and life, has nothing more to offer this world, and reunite her with Dad? As much as we’ll miss her, I’m sure she’d be much happier with dad. Then, as God would know, we’d be in the position to move, and God also knows that we want to move, then why won’t he let us have a kid? Why can’t I live for a child of my own? Why must I always live for someone outside of Tom and I as a couple? We’ve got the wrong life here that’s going. He should take her life and give us a life. That life, being the child that we’ve wanted for so long now. We haven’t lived our lives for us much at all (I hope to hell there’s more to my calling in life than what’s been destined for me so far), but Ma has. Her life is over, so why not let us have lives of our own with our own family? We’re in our 30s and 40s and not 70s. Well, I know I can never have a child, but two years do go by faster when you’re an adult and she’ll be gone and then we’ll move. People will still need Tom, I’ll still be sterile, but we’ll leave this congested city and there’ll be no Mormons or freeloaders a few feet away.

SUNDAY, JANUARY 25, 1998 I sure do have a lot of mouse updating to do but let me first get other things out of the way.

Still playing phone tag with Paula, who left a message saying she got my letter and knew we keep missing each other, but to try to get a hold of her. I’ll try in the morning, but if I call and get her on a Sunday, that means the kid’s gonna be there, unless this one’s been taken, too.

Got a letter from Bob, who really likes the different stationery that the new program we got can do. He wants more pictures of Kim and I.

No wonder Tom’s saying we can move in two years. He told me this before too, and it has to do with the fact that in two years is when we think his mother will die. With our share of the money she leaves, I guess we could move, but we’d rather she live. We’d rather she live and be healthy, but as sad as it is, that can never be again.

Tom told me about a wild dream Mary had. In the dream, Ma was told she had 4 months left to live and Mary asked her what she wanted to do with the time that was left. Ma said she wanted to go to Michigan to be with her sister. Then she also said, “Dad said he wants to go too, but I told him he can’t since he’s dead.” And Mary agreed he couldn’t go cuz he was dead. Then Ma said, “But he really wants to go bad. He says he’ll stay on the floor. But I told him no, he can’t, cuz he’s dead.” Then Mary said there were these “dead” mannequins that kept falling down all around her cuz they were trying to dance.

Pretty weird, huh? Tom says not to read anything into it. Oh, I won’t. I still strongly predict she’ll live to be 77.

Now for the mice news. First off, I may have miscounted. There may be 15 mice and not 16, but anyway, after all the calculations I’ve done, we should have about 30 lady mice if things go as we plan them. It’s a good thing we sexed/segregated them yesterday when we did, cuz right after we did, Ziggy and Cocoa had their babies. Between the both of them, there are about a dozen pinkies, as they’re also called, which is very appropriate since they’re just these little pink blobs. Males are also called bucks and females are also called does. So my mom, whose nickname is Doe, is nicknamed after mice. She’d be thrilled to know that. The soft, high-pitched squeaking sounds of the babies are so cute. We learned so much and I’ve really become quite the mouse expert, as well as the GP expert, etc. With what we now know, we can say that the original Gizzy that I trapped was definitely a male by how he acted.

More good news for me, and that’s that Tanner and Patch, my favorites of all the first sets of babies, are both females. Anyway, we’ve got 7 ready to go to Petco tomorrow and 8 ladies all by themselves, who can tend to the babies, and enjoy being free from being jumped all the time. It goes to show just how dishonest this store really is too, when their signs tried to claim they live for 5 years. Mice don’t live longer than GPs. More like 18 months, is the case with mice.

Boy, the guys are really depressed, I guess, what with not being able to screw like hell, cuz all they’ve been doing is sleeping. A part of me feels bad for these guys. They can resume their sex lives at the pet store if there are ladies in stock, but they’re not gonna have all this stuff. They’re not gonna have all these cages and tubes and wheels. Not unless someone like me or Mary gets them that’s really into all that stuff. They’re just gonna be thrown into a plain old little 5-10-gallon tank with nothing but water and food. There’ll be no tubes or wheels, which is unfortunate. They should at least be given a wheel. Then, they’ll have to deal with all the people and all the noise, and who knows if they’ll become snake food? Typically, that’s what they breed those ugly little white mice for, but you never can know what their fate will be. All they’ve known is where they are now, so hopefully they’ll go to someone who’ll love them and give them a good home.

Wow! Almost 24 hours have gone by without a call from Andy.

SATURDAY, JANUARY 24, 1998 According to Tom’s research, that guy really was way out of whack when he said mice don’t fuck for 5 months. More like 5 weeks, is the case, and they breed continuously like GPs do. So, every female is pregnant, unless God struck any of these ladies as sterile as he struck me. So I separated the sexes and I’ll have Tom double-check with me and make sure that I didn’t make any gender guessing mistakes. I’ll want to get rid of these males ASAP. Then, as soon as the litters are 2-3 weeks and done nursing and we can tell their sexes well enough, we’ll segregate them and off the males to the pet store when they’re old enough.

The good news is that this is more mice for me, now that I don’t have to worry about having a lot of mice that’ll smell, since the males will be out of the picture. According to what Tom read, only the males stink. This makes sense. Male BO is a hell of a lot more severe than female BO. A female would have to go several days without showering before she’d really stink unless she ran a marathon. A male could shower up, then sit down to read for a few hours, and then be stinking.

Later…

Well, it looks like I’m either gonna have to set Andy straight in a threatening kind of way, or just deal with his constant calls. He didn’t leave a message, but he tried calling twice yesterday and once just now. He said he met Randy who’s gross and he’ll tell me about it in person and he’s sorry he’s calling. Well, if he’s sorry he’s calling, then why’d he call? Why’s he such a selfish, pushy, opposite-doer? Why won’t he just give me a break? He has other friends.

FRIDAY, JANUARY 23, 1998 Heard a car door at 10:00 last night, but there have been no problems that I know of yet. By this summer, I wouldn’t be surprised if they had another dog.

I knew, upon going into this marriage, that our lives would revolve around his parents until they were both gone. It’ll be a while yet before we can decide what we want to do, if we want to do anything at all, about my little problem here, cuz we have to wait and see what’s gonna be going on with his ma. In the next few weeks, she’ll have a lot of appointments and testing. I don’t know if something wants us to wait till after she’s gone to deal with this, or what. I have mixed emotions about the whole thing. Like I said, I can understand taking care of such a sweet and generous lady (she offered to buy us a new heat/AC unit), but I feel like we’ve never been able to fully live our lives for ourselves and do what we want to do. I suppose I’ll always feel that way, though, no matter what. Nonetheless, she’s only got a few years left, but I’ve got 15-20 reasonable childbearing years left, not that that’s ever to be meant to be, as I said, but do I want to at least get tested? I just don’t know. It’s just so unfair. Haven’t I had enough problems without having to deal with this, too? People aren’t supposed to pay for nature. How can God do that to a woman? He’s made me such a defective, abnormal freak and I’m not gonna give in to any of it. If I let this work me to death, play on my emotions, etc., That’ll be giving him the reaction he wants. People are dead wrong when they say God doesn’t inflict pain. First I was hauled to Boston 100 times to work for a so-called normal ear, and in the midst of all this shit, I had to work for a so-called normal life, then I went through the shit with the asthma, getting the so-called ear canal that God was supposed to have given me for nothing, and now I’m supposed to go work for a normal reproductive system? I don’t know. I’ve had enough medically that I don’t know whether or not to undergo testing, do what Tom thinks is best, or just forget about it. If I begin this process, you’re talking about a 1-2-year ordeal with 20-40 appointments. I just don’t know if I want to put myself through a series of hell again for the 4th time. I consider the first time my trips to Boston, the second the asthma, the third the ear shit here, and it’d be series #4 if I went through fertility testing, etc. No one can make it so that I can have a child. So, knowing that that’s the bottom line, I don’t know if I should even exhaust and humiliate myself for no reason, while God gets a good laugh out of it. And what really happened with the two-week spotting I did in the summer of ‘96? Was that really a miscarriage? Questions and more questions! But never any answers and certainly never any solutions!

I guess God loves some of my mice more than me, cuz at least 5 of them are being allowed to be pregnant. Ziggy’s definitely pregnant and it looks like a few of the babies are, too. Patch, Bandit, and Cocoa look pregnant. I’m psyched to see more litters arrive, but what are we gonna do here? Get the males segregated as soon as they’re born? Or ditch some of the duller-looking ones and keep the population where it’s at? We just don’t know yet. I knew that dumb male that told me mice don’t become sexually active for 6 months had to be full of shit and I should’ve gone by what my gut told me, but it’s a little too late for that. Tom will do some research on AOL since he seems to be better at that than I am, and then we’ll decide. It’s my fault for not trusting my gut instinct and the vibe that said “liar” when the guy tried to BS me with the 6-month thing. Also, I should’ve realized the logical side of that at the time. Of course, pet store people are gonna tell you animals have babies later than they really do. That way they can hope that you’ll bring in the offspring so they can get free animals to sell and profit even more.

Ziggy’s gonna have her babies any time now (I wonder if she’ll have more than two this time?), so I tossed in computer tracking paper strips to use as nesting material. They love this stuff and it’s such a fun toy for them. They not only use it to nestle in, but they chew it and they love to run through and dive into piles of it. It was so cute watching Patch haul some strips up out of the aquarium and into the cage next to that one.

And again my vibes prove to be correct - no losing weight for me for sure, like I had said. It is not meant to be, and something up there really does want me heavy and I will keep gaining. I email Tom every so often for the hell of it and I told him I know he cares how I look (he said only sex is a mental thing for him) and that if he ever decides he doesn’t like how I look, I’ll see what I can do, but there are no guarantees that I could lose weight. That’s something some of us can’t fight/change. Anyway, it’s just a body. I can love him just the same, and I’m sure he will, too.

THURSDAY, JANUARY 22, 1998 I have quite a bit to write about. Most of it’s not too bad, but first, let me get Andy’s same old shit bitched about and over with.

I don’t know who’s worse of a rebellious opposite-doer. Him or Tom. Everything I tell him goes in one ear and out the other. He still knocks, rather than uses the doorbell when he comes over. I’ve told him a million times to ring the doorbell, but Andy’s gotta do what he wants to do. Same thing with the calls, of course.

He leaves me a message which could’ve waited a few days since we just left messages, and he says, “OK, I got something to say. I told Laura, I told Michelle and now I’m telling you, so please don’t be mad at me, but I got a date with Quinn tonight. He’s been really respectful to me lately, I still have feelings for him, and if I get hurt, I’ll get exactly what I deserve.”

So, then I leave him a message telling him that although I disagree with it, it’s his life, so why should I be mad at him? What I didn’t tell him, though, was that he was acting like a naïve teenager. It’s just a matter of time before the true Quinn returns and he will get hurt again by this sick fuck. I also implied that he’s selfish and can’t compromise by saying that he couldn’t have gotten the letter I sent, or else he wouldn’t call me again so soon. And yet again, I went through the 3 or so reasons why I only want messages every few days and a live chat once a week or so, etc.

Then he calls right back saying he’s sorry he’s so forgetful (which I doubt in this case) and tells me that he loved the letter, it was very dear to him and well written, it was the first real letter I’d written him in 15 years. Then he teased me about a spelling error I made since my spelling had gotten so good (I must not have used the computer’s spell checker). Anyway, I’m glad he loved the letter, but then what does he say in his next breath? He says, “Talk to you later!” and I’m like, no you won’t! You’ll talk to me in a few days. So, unless he sounds like he really needs to chat, I’m not gonna respond regularly to his messages. Maybe that’s the only way I’ll be able to get my point to sink in. I hope he doesn’t take it personally, it’s not that I don’t care, but he’s always there. He and his calls just won’t go away. He just doesn’t ease up on me. Maybe I should also not let him know how much it bugs me, cuz of how he is. He may not be as selfish as he used to be, but generally speaking, the more you tell him he’s doing something that bugs you, the more he’ll do it.

Now, onto a very nice talk Tom and I had. I tried to tell myself it didn’t matter what he thought or did, cuz I’m sterile and unfixable. I reminded myself that back when his parents were having kids, there was no birth control, they screwed as normally and as regularly as any couple could, yet it took Mom two years to conceive David after Ray was born, then 5 years to conceive Mary, then two to conceive Tom, then 5 to conceive Steven. And it took my folks 12 years to catch me after having Larry and Tammy. Then I tried to remind myself that I swore I’d never get married and how I just couldn’t “see” that as ever happening, etc. However, the bottom line’s the same no matter what anyone else’s experiences have been, and that’s that I’m sterile, and I am bothered by Tom’s not believing/accepting this.

Earlier, he could tell something was up and I finally came out and told him my period’s beginning and that he could go right on with his denial, though. But then to my shock, he said that it was very sad I got my period, he just wanted to give me that one-in-a-million chance to be wrong, but he does believe me. He says he doesn’t believe I’m sterile to the degree that I believe I am, but that he understands that it’s more than likely the case. I was glad to hear him say this as it makes me feel like he’s more on my side and like I’m less alone with this shit. I just hope he means it and isn’t just saying so to please me. He seems sincere enough. I told him I understood the natural urge to deny and not accept something. I used to be a very stubborn and arrogant person in that respect, and he admitted he was stubborn about it.

Then he told me we couldn’t do anything for a few weeks cuz of his mom, but maybe we can do something before his mother dies and before we move, and I’ll now explain all this.

His mother’s doing awful. Blood consists of 3 things: white blood cells, red blood cells, and platelets. Well, platelets are what keep you from bleeding to death if you cut yourself and her platelets are virtually non-existent. We don’t know for sure if they can stabilize her condition, or if she’ll deteriorate, but we both feel she’ll live to around the turn of the century. Nonetheless, the next month or so is gonna be busy with her appointments and her moving into Mary’s.

As I told Tom, I think it’ll be better for everyone when mom’s with Mary, but I feel so helpless. I think we all do. This isn’t something that can be fixed. I also told him that if he felt it best to put off the testing till after she’s gone and after we’ve moved, that’s OK, cuz even though I wanted a kid yesterday, I’d still be young enough to have a child, but I still can’t ever “see” us with a child. Not in one year, or 5 years, or 10 years. I may have had very few dreams of this magnitude, but if God’s never let me have other dreams that were of this magnitude in the past, why should he start now? They may be able to answer my question of what’s wrong with me, but what’s really frustrating is that I may never know why. Did God do it punish me? Did he do it to protect me? Was it both? How could God do this to a woman? If God’s as loving as people claim, then is this the devil’s work? Anyway, I think the problem lies within my uterus and it’s cuz of the DES, but maybe we’ll find out it’s cuz of bad eggs, compliments of all the years people doped me up so they could control me into being what they wanted me to be.

I have so many theories and things I wonder, like, is this a test? If so, this is a hell of a test! Could God maybe intend to let us have a child after all, but not without a fight? Could he really want me to work for it and pay for it? His standards for me are higher than most others, after all. I wasn’t kidding when I said that the more normal and common something is, the harder I have to work for it. But love is supposed to be a normal thing and I didn’t have to work for that. I didn’t have to work for or pay to meet Tom. We just met. Although, most people aren’t loved. Not as loved as I am. Despite the things I’ve been suspicious of him for, whether I was right or not, no man’s as good and as loving as he is. I’m very blessed. Tom’s one in a million. So maybe I didn’t have to work or pay for him so much, in a sense, cuz he is so uncommon. I had thanked him for loving me even though I’m an abnormal, different, defective freak, and he said the same thing back, but believe me, he’s not even close. The only things that I’d say were different about him are his infrequent cumming and those screwy sandwiches he used to make with bologna, margarine, peanut butter and jelly.

I’m just so torn between wanting to fight for my dream and knowing I can’t fight God and win. I mean, I never have been able to in the past with something that meant this much to me. I guess it would, however, be best to seek as much closure to this issue as I can, and just let them test us and tell us to our faces just what the scoop is and if it’s hopeless or not, no matter what I think, feel or believe. I just don’t know if we’ll begin the process in a month or so, or in a few years. If it must be a few years, so be it then. I’d rather it not be, but if I’ve gone this long, it won’t kill me to go longer, even if this issue does play on my emotions on and off. I think our love is strong enough to go through with this together. I think we can both talk to these people and tell them the whole scoop, even if it’s something we’d rather not do. We’d rather have the normal sex and make the kid the natural way, but God’s just not gonna budge or make it easy for us if he makes it even possible at all.

At least I’ll always have Tom and will always love him no matter if we see a doctor or not or have a kid or not. It’s not that my life is bad but just incomplete, and it still breaks my heart to see the kids go to so many women who’ll just abort them or beat them to death.

Later…

God, that pest just does not give up!!! Andy said he had a great time with Quinn and now he can move on to the next relationship, he’s so different off drugs, he’ll tell me all about it in person, but by then he’ll have a million other things to tell me. Oh, I’m sure he will. And like this couldn’t wait? Geez! How can he have so much to tell me? All he does is work and gab on phones.

WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 21, 1998 Here we are already halfway through the week. This week’s going fast, thanks to the long damn weekend.

I just went out and made a dump in the recycle bin, which was empty, and boy was that loud! Especially with the glass bottles I dumped. Hope the shitheads enjoyed that, but I doubt it. I’m sure that as God would have it, no one heard it and if someone did, it wasn’t the freeloader. Still only hearing door slams from them.

I can’t wait till we move!!!

Tweety sure is chirping up a storm right now. It seems that noise makes him sing more. When I wash the dishes, or when the washer’s going, or when the fryer’s going, he really sings away.

I got some really nice cards from the HS today. Cats, dogs and ducks. I think I’ll use them for the next 5 things I don’t have cards for and that’d be Becky’s, Mom’s and Dad’s birthdays, and Mother’s and Father’s Day.

I guess Andy’s gonna do whatever he can do to get my attention and to get a conversation with me, although it’s not every day he runs off to Xena conventions. He left a message saying that he had a great time and would talk to me about it in person when he picks up Laura’s rent money, so I don’t have to deal with the phone and missing my smokes. So now he’s gonna come over more often and show up 2-4 hours later than we agreed on? Oh, brother!

I did not discuss what I wrote in last night’s entry with Tom. First off, there’s no point and it won’t change anything. Secondly, I’d rather let January come and go before I say he’s broken his promise and discuss it with him then. We got together before he left for work, but he just couldn’t get into it. I couldn’t really, either, but I did enjoy our time together just talking and cuddling, and that’s most important.

We’re both still having allergy problems and suspect it’s the mice, but soon, half of them will be gone. Then, we’ll decide what to do if they’re still a bother, but as we both agree, they’re so cute! Gotta pay for everything, though, but in the meantime, I’ll do a good dust and vacuum job in here.

Later…

I sure had the shit scared out of me earlier. Maybe I did wake the freeloader up and maybe God used the huge moth that was in here as a way to get me back for it. It just wouldn’t die, either. I kept spraying it with Raid, but the damn thing kept swirling around the room, and I lost sight of it. I haven’t seen it for hours, so hopefully it finally kicked the bucket.

Ziggy’s looking awfully chubby lately and I hope she’s not pregnant.

When I called Lisa to wish her a happy birthday, she said she did quit smoking. Tom says give her the benefit of the doubt, but I don’t know. I hope she’d never lie to me about that or anything. If it’s true that she did quit, I’m really happy for her and proud of her. I know how hard it is. Especially when you’re this young, stubborn, naïve kid who doesn’t think it’ll affect her.

Andy’s right back to his same old shit. He agrees he’ll cut his calling down, but what do I get? I get two messages on the same day.

Tom says that due to his being given such unpredictable hours at work, he’s gonna look for a new job within the bank. He said that now that his ma’s moving into Mary’s, he won’t have to worry about what hours he works. I’ve always wondered if his ma was a factor in our sex lives. If he can choose to get his job based on his mother, he can choose a sex life based on her, too. I wonder, though, if another reason he’s been afraid of a child is cuz of the time it’d take away from taking care of her, although he says he could take care of both. He feels obligated to take care of her cuz of all the years she’s taken care of him. I would feel the same way if I had had a mother like that, but sometimes I think he lives his life a little bit too much for her. I doubt, though, that her moving into Mary’s would change the sex. The sex is the sex, Tom is Tom, and Tom doesn’t want a child. If only he knew I was sterile, but he just doesn’t believe it. If he could know it, though, and not be afraid to accept it, he could relax more. He could at least have sex without worrying about his fears coming true.

That very subtle, yet obvious feeling has come on saying that my period is just a few days away. About 2-4 days away. So, whether or not pre-cum really can impregnate a woman well enough, I’m still sterile. I just know it. Every core of my woman’s intuition, my vibes, my feelings, my gut instinct, my 6th sense, my logic, belief, etc., tells me that. There is no doubt about it. I just don’t know if it’s cuz of bad eggs or cuz of the uterus, but I know it’s nothing as simple as clogged fallopian tubes.

This is a serious long shot, but I wonder if it’s at all possible that the dog not being there has any connection to the letter to the city? But then why’s he still in the picture? Maybe they came out in person to see her at a time when he wasn’t there and she claimed that he just visits. Meanwhile, they saw the dog and told her to get rid of it. Like I said, I doubt this, though, cuz then I’d surely hear about it. She’d be over here screaming or seeking revenge on me by dragging me into court. I still say that they didn’t like my yelling at them so early in the morning any more than I appreciated the music at any hour, but more so in the early morning, and so they got or borrowed the dog for my sake, then ditched it.

Later…

No naughty freeloader yet. I got up at 7 PM and saw the car out front and knew he wasn’t in for the night. I then went out to feed Bunny and the kittens and to chase off Mama Bitch and could smell food from over there and hear a voice, too. It was I female voice I’d heard before, but again, although a black voice is a loud voice, I couldn’t make out what was said. It wasn’t the bitch, though, and the person talking wasn’t so mad as she always is. But why would they open their windows on a chilly evening of 50-something degrees?

Then at 8 PM, he left quietly. Very quietly. In fact, the only way I knew he left was cuz of the motor starting, which I wouldn’t have heard if I weren’t in the living room with no fans or TV on. I didn’t even hear a car door. I guess they go to bed early cuz the lights were out at 9 PM. Well, they do leave early. At just after 9:00 I heard one car door parallel to the back room where I am now that wasn’t very loud at all, so I knew he pulled into the carport for the night, then wondered - maybe the door slamming is the bitch’s doing. Whenever the slamming goes on, it’s when there’s more than one asshole coming/going.

Anyway, as much as I can’t stand them and wish they’d get the fuck out of here, they’ve been behaving well enough not to deserve a bottle toss unless I gave them one for all the times they didn’t behave (but that’d take 1000 bottles and more). Another thing I wonder, though, is if a bottle would prompt them to get another dog for protective reasons.

Yesterday was the first day I went without any wine since I began having wine coolers every day.

TUESDAY, JANUARY 20, 1998 The fact that I can’t handle a kid and don’t deserve one is beside the point right now. The point is that this husband of mine has jerked me around about this kid shit from day one and I’m sick of it. I’m more than sick of it!

If I stood the slightest chance of being fixed, I can’t be cuz of his denial and refusal to cum much. He’s totally stolen even a one-in-a-million chance if there ever was one, and I meant it when I said I give what I get. His number one dream is to work at home and I’m gonna make sure he never has that. Never! He can’t just tell the fucking truth. Instead, when there’s something Tom doesn’t want to do or deal with, Tom denies it and makes excuses. What? Did he think his denial and his not doing anything to create a kid or fix me would make this all go away? He lied to me again. He told me he’d take the first step and make an appointment for a physical this month, but he hasn’t. Instead, he makes excuses about not having time, but he has time for other calls. If he wanted to make the appointment that bad, he’d set his alarm, get up and make it, then go back to bed if he had to. But he doesn’t want to see a doctor. And he can’t admit that, either. I also feel really angered and insulted over all the so-called remedies I’ve used for his so-called lack of cumming problem. He suggested I wear certain clothes, that we sleep together, that I quit smoking, and so much more since I’ve known him. I did almost everything he suggested I do to “fix” him and where is our sex life now? Right where it’s been since the summer of 96. Nothing I do is good enough for him. He’d rather lie, deny, and make excuses.

Here’s a classic example of how he won’t say no to something he doesn’t want to do. For nearly a year now, he’s agreed that he’d send my nieces letters and I remind him periodically, but does he do it? No. Instead of saying no, he says he’ll do it, but actions speak louder than words and when actions don’t go with someone’s words, that usually means that they’re liars. It could be cuz of fear or for some other reason, but it all comes down to the same thing and that’s not doing what you say you’re gonna fucking do! I’m tired of his not doing the things he says he’ll do and I’m tired of him, God, and this whole damn issue playing on my emotions.

MONDAY, JANUARY 19, 1998 Now that the long weekend’s just about over, and now that it’s later in the evening, I can relax enough to write. Plus, I’m alone now, cuz he’s gone to work, so I can concentrate better. I don’t concentrate well with others around even if they’re quiet and not right near me. The weekend went surprisingly, but pleasantly quiet. There were weekend stereos cruising through, but all next door gave me were some door slams. I’m still blessed with there being no dog over there, and the music has yet to become a problem again. If the door slamming’s as deliberate as I think it is, they may assume, but they don’t know for a fact, that the door slamming gets on my nerves too, so maybe, like I said before, they suspect me and don’t want to do anything that they know may provoke me into harming them or the house. Or maybe the door slams were cuz they heard us talking out back when he was working on the old washer and they wanted to be heard back. One of the door slams they gave me was so fucking loud, the house shook. Then later, at 10:40 PM, the shithead went out and slammed me a few more times, so I went out and pelted back and beat an old waterproof radio on the side of the house by their house a few times.

Later…

I felt a bit warm and dizzy there, so I stepped out for some cool air and you know what? Unless they’re in bed early, they might not even be home next door, cuz there are no lights on.

Anyway, Tom fixed the old washer and we washed the new, big comforter that won’t fit in our stackables. It was pretty funny what with the washer being out on the patio!

The weekend may have been peaceful enough as far as any neighbors go, but some stereo, that you could tell was miles away, was a real annoyance for a good hour or more from out back. It could’ve been worse, though, since it could only be heard out back, but what a sick world we live in - knowing that someone’s stereo from miles away can be a problem. They’re that bassy, and bass travels that well. And like I said, people would cruise up and down our street with those fucking things that are so goddamn common now. Another way I can tell if it’s a freeloader that just bassed in or out is by the motion sensor security light in the carport. Cuz of the soundproofing material that’s in the bedroom windows, I can’t tell if it’s on or not, but from the window in the back room, I can as long as the back room is not too lit up. In the daytime, I’d have to go to the side of the house to see if it was on.

In answer to why dad’s not getting his legs taken care of now since he’s in pain, it’s cuz they’re busy at the store, and it’s not a life or death situation.

I’ve been appreciative of the cut-down in calls from Andy, but since it’s been several days, and since I’d like to hear all about his trip to L.A. with Michelle to see Xena, I left him a message.

As for my weight, once again, you really can’t fight fate and win. Yes, I must be compensated. My losing weight is 100% hopeless. I’m just not meant to be thin again and nothing I do can change that. These metabolism pills I’ve got are a bunch of bull. They’re probably just sugar or some substance like that that fills the capsules. And I’m just too much of a wimp to stop eating altogether. So I’ll be fat, but at least I’ll be a fat person who can breathe. I’ll use the money I save on cigarettes to buy new clothes as I keep getting bigger, and I will keep getting bigger. I just know it like I know I’m sterile and meant to be forever childless. You might say that’s got some good in it, too, after all the shit I go through trying to handle the not smoking, as well as for other reasons.

Tom’s still doing and is always gonna do what he does best - deny I have a plumbing problem, so he doesn’t have to deal with it. It gets more and more obvious each year that he doesn’t want a kid, or to go to a fertility doctor, so his way of dealing with it - there’s not a problem. I understand his ways, though, cuz I was once that way myself. If something was going on that I didn’t like or didn’t want to deal with, I too would deny it or I’d play it down.

Tom’s been passing a few tests I’ve set up and again, I know when he’ll do what I say he’ll do, and when he’ll do the direct opposite of what I said he’ll do. Due to my saying things that implied I didn’t want to screw when I was mid-cycle, he made sure we did. And due to my saying he preferred sex the most right before and after my period, he made sure he didn’t touch me all weekend, which is close enough. It’s due on the 25th. I don’t know if my getting so fat has a play in it, although he does tell me I’m beautiful all the time, but part of it is cuz he doesn’t balance things well. He either has to work or screw, but he can’t mix business with pleasure. I see it to my benefit as time goes on, though. If it were new, or if one of us was gonna die soon, or if we had a shot at a kid, then I’d still be bitching about the part-time sex we have, but I know that he likes it this way deep down, too. He could’ve asked for it any day, but he didn’t, so that tells me that he must think full-time is too much too, and I also understand it’s not in his nature to have a high appetite and that he’s in his 40s.

Anyway, after all the questioning I’ve done in the past about sex and Tom, now I question sex and myself. Just what has happened to my appetite? I know we’re not a new couple, we’re infertile, etc., but I thought women got hornier into their 30s. It seems that for the last month, month and a half, my appetite’s been much lower. This isn’t a complaint, though, but merely an observation. I kind of like it this way, cuz he couldn’t keep up with me when I’d want it nearly every day and it seems that the lower my sex drive is, the lower my desire for a kid is, too.

I scanned all my favorite drawings (about 40) into the computer. Tom created a new directory for me to put them in there. It’s similar to my directories for Gloria and Norah pictures and for my journals.

I love this thing called Media Manager, which lets me view my drawings, pictures, etc., on little icons.

FRIDAY, JANUARY 16, 1998 Today’s the day God killed my nephew a year ago. I just hope Larry and Sandy aren’t too depressed right now, but what can you expect?

Tom took the time to download this thing that lets me view and install/delete fonts, but it’s fucked up. It tried to tell me one wasn’t installed that really was installed. It wouldn’t let me delete any, either.

As hungry as I am, my diet’s working so far. I awoke at 118. Tom got an old-fashioned dial scale too, since digital ones fluctuate more. So, I know I can still begin the weight loss process by eating just a few bites, but the question is, will it keep going after I start eating again? Or will I just stay the same or gain the weight back? The trick is to manipulate the thyroid/metabolism enough to get it to learn to lose weight on its own and not worry about what I eat. Well, time will tell what’ll happen with it.

Later…

I realize now that Paula likes to play phone tag. I know she’s busy with that kid, but it’s become rather obvious, so I’ll just talk to her whenever I talk to her, but at least she doesn’t call me every day.

After listening to music, I looked out front and saw the car there. I said, damn! I didn’t get to hear how it came in. But I knew it wasn’t in for the night being parked up front, so I waited and heard him leave quietly a short while later. He hasn’t come in yet and I’m anxious to hear how that’ll be. I only heard one door shut softly, so he’s coming in by himself when he does come in.

Later…

I had some popcorn today and fried up some French fries. This is cuz I’ve been stuck, and I know the grease helps with that. Those fries put a couple of pounds back on me, though, so I really have to watch it. I cannot believe how hungry I am and the appetite to which I’ve become accustomed. Something up there really wants me to have my share of starving bouts as an adult. It nearly starved me off just for letting me come out here. I mean, I really had to pay for coming out here by not having food. And now I have to sit and suffer through hunger pangs or keep eating and keep gaining weight. The bitch of it is that I can’t see myself ever getting lucky enough to just happen to lose weight without even trying. I think I’m gonna have to really starve the shit out of myself in order to lose it. Then after I get done doing that, I better hope the weight doesn’t come right back on.

Like I said, something up there insists I pay for every little thing. I still have a bad feeling that there’s no beating it and that if I want to enjoy the ability to breathe, I have to get fat for it. The missing cigarettes should be enough compensation, though, but no, I have to pay dearly for every little thing.

We screwed yesterday and he didn’t cum like I thought he would cuz of the time of month, but then again, that’s something he rarely does anyway. He thinks that a woman ovulates a whole week, but it’s more like 1-2 days. No wonder he cums so little if that’s what he thinks! Well, at least it keeps the sheets clean.

The werewolf (Randy) did get in touch with Andy after all. He said all he got was a frame, but no picture. He thanked me for trying, though, and says he’s gonna mail him a picture. Why? Why not just meet the guy in person?

Later…

If he came in next door, I didn’t hear him.

Last night, I contemplated throwing a bottle over there. I mean, I really thought about it good and hard. I looked out front to make sure that RV wasn’t visible from the front (they still come to see the old man, but they haven’t brought that whiny, shrilly dog of theirs since my note, thank God!). It wasn’t visible, but it was from out back and I don’t need any witnesses. They sleep in this thing, and someone could come up front for something where there are no curtains drawn and see me hurling the bottle. Another problem that could come out of the bottle-throwing idea, if I threw it into the carport, is that I don’t want it to hit the car and look too obvious (like someone doesn’t like its stereo). If I were to walk out into the street to see how deep in the carport it was parked so I’d know where to aim, and was seen walking out there and looking, that’d seem awfully obvious, too, not that it could prove anything. I intend to wash that bottle and handle and throw it with plastic gloves on. So then there’ll be no saliva or prints. So, I thought about different things I could do, but then I realized that problems could come out of these things. I’m not gonna worry too much about them, cuz if I’ve got something I really want to do to them badly enough, I’ll do it. However, the first thing they’re gonna do if I throw a bottle is come over here either with or without the cops and ask if I did it. If they didn’t do that, then they’ll go around to the neighbors and ask if they saw anything. So, there are some potential problems if I do something and if I don’t do anything. I don’t want to not do anything and have them end up thinking that letter was a joke. I want them to take that letter very seriously and let them know someone means business. Maybe they have and that’s why they’ve been quiet up till now. Maybe they really don’t want to take the chance of provoking anyone around here, in case it’s me that sent it, and I know my name has crossed their sick, selfish little minds. Or maybe they don’t want to look bad themselves if they ever get in any legal battles. If I go with the late-night banging sprees, and if they hear them, that will look obvious too, and it could also drag others into it, too, and wake them up. This is between me and them only, so I may go a more destructive route, obvious or not.

THURSDAY, JANUARY 15, 1998 I called Larry, who has another cold, to wish him a happy birthday. The poor guy’s going through what I went through back there. Jen’s sick, too, but Sandy’s OK. He says they’re expecting 14” of snow and that it was a whole 23º! Wow! That’s actually pretty generous for January. But they just had their January thaw spell (a lot of people get sick now due to the temperature changes) and now it’ll refreeze itself again till spring. It’ll be close to 70º here today.

I can’t believe how much my sister and parents share with me these days. They used to tell me absolutely nothing that was going on with them and I know I said so in my first journals. My folks would talk to Tammy, but not to me. Tammy even told me how wonderful the sex is with this guy she’s seeing. She mentioned something about him measuring her Jewish nose and her measuring his Italian dick. Nobody’s dick is as big as my husband’s, and I told her so (I’m sure it’s true, too).

Mom also filled me in on her and Dad’s medical conditions, as I said earlier. I just asked her and am waiting for a reply as to why they’re waiting till the spring or summer to do something about my dad’s leg pain.

Ma said she’s been taking something called Synthroid for 8-10 years cuz of her thyroid. She said when it’s too low it can tire you down a lot and cause your hair to fall out. When it’s high, you’re overactive. And thyroids do control the metabolism which controls weight. However, some of what she said makes no sense. I’m still kind of hyper, yet my thyroid’s low and my metabolism is slow right now. I sure as hell aren’t tired a lot and my hair is not falling out either. Oh no, this hair’s still thick enough to fill in a few bald heads while leaving enough for me.

Yeah well, speaking of metabolism and weight, I’m now furious! Furious enough to do what I need to do now to finally get this fucking weight off of me. When I stepped on the scale and saw I was 125, I knew I was right when I said it’d just keep going and going and going if I don’t find a way to ward off fate. I’m tired of God and his compensations and his different standards, etc. I’m not gonna “pay” for my lungs back. Just cuz I can breathe now doesn’t mean I should have to get fat for it. So, I’m on a liquid diet. If I did it once, I can do it again. When I was 19, I didn’t eat for about 3 days. I just had liquids. It obviously did something to my thyroid/metabolism cuz I started losing weight the second day of not eating, then continued eating as I usually did, only to keep losing weight for the next year while I could resume eating as I usually did. I went from 140 something down to 100. Well, I may be 32 now and the hunger pains may be vicious, but I really think I can do this now and I’ve got to try my best. I really want to be thin again and able to wear most of my clothes again.

So I’ve basically made two personal decisions. I’m gonna lose weight and get back down around 100 lbs. And when I’m 35, I am gonna go to a doctor about my sterility. Not cuz I think something can be done to fix me or to make Tom cum more or to change God’s mind, but just cuz I want to know, out of curiosity, if I really do have a deformed uterus. I just want to know what it is that makes my plumbing not work.

I know another reason God stuck so many of other people’s kids on me and harassed me with their noise in the NHA and other places. What goes around comes around. My mom had to listen to plenty of my noise (till she’d slap me to silence), but he knew, though, that I’d never have my own kid to pay me back, so he went and used other people’s kids. That’s another sure sign of what’s meant to be and what isn’t.

Later…

God, I not only get the same stuffy nose I had when I smoked but my feet and hands still get so cold. That’s supposed to happen to smokers cuz their blood doesn’t circulate as well. Guess some of my body doesn’t realize I no longer smoke.

I had another hilarious idea as far as next door goes, but this one I’m not gonna do. Assuming they’re like most people, they wouldn’t be happy at all to see any mice in their place. I thought of dropping the male mice through their mailbox slot and into their house, but that’d be cruel to the mice. It’s still a funny thought and I bet she’d freak! He, on the other hand, is such a ditz that he probably wouldn’t even know what the fuck was happening.

I forgot to say that I don’t know how it came in yesterday. It may have come in while I was listening to music, so I can’t say for sure what went on.

I broke down and fried up two pork chops. Barely 40 minutes later, I was starving again. I’m just gonna have to tough it out, though.

Later…

I got my listening to music done and out of the way, so we’ll see how the freeloader comes in. I’d assume that if the dog isn’t back yet, it won’t be coming back at all (I hope!). That goes to prove my belief - that the dog was for me and that they never gave a shit about it. If I had a dog that I cared about that someone threatened to shoot, I’d either kill the person or get the dog in the house. They didn’t, so I think they made a deal with someone shortly after I yelled at them that July morning, to borrow the dog for a few months to harass me with it. Or they could’ve gotten it for free from some animal shelter, knowing they’d return it or dump it somewhere in the long run.

Got a letter from Bob. I dug how he said he was having trouble with a racist bitch of a guard and would like to shove his fists down her “throught.”

I got some animal cards with matching address labels from the Wildlife Federation and I also dug how they put “Phoenix Arizona, AZ” on the address.

God, how I dread this long MLK holiday weekend coming up! These assholes next door are literally MAKING me not like blacks. God, spare me, please! I’m sure his answer to that would be, yeah right! Like hell I’ll spare you their shit/noise! Let’s just say that once MLK’s Day gets here, I may not have the patience to slowly torture and toy with them. I may just want to kick their asses and get it over with.

I wish I could know for sure if they are gonna move in September. I think that if they don’t move by then, then we are stuck with them till we move unless I step up the action to drive them out of here sooner, but there’s also a huge advantage to being the first one out of here too, and I think it’s rather obvious what that is. Tom thinks we’ll be out of here in two years, but I think it’ll be 4.

WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 14, 1998 Jesus fucking Christ! You can’t even go out in this city without being screamed at! Just what I need when I’m still so tensed out from not smoking. I go to the library. That went OK. We get to Ross’s to pick me up slippers and hair ties, and there’s this fucking kid screaming at the top of his lungs a few feet away from me while we’re waiting in line. I came home so stressed out that I drank too much too fast and felt woozy and a bit nauseous. Fortunately, though, the effect didn’t last very long. Like I said, maybe a part of me is glad Tom’s in denial so that he doesn’t have to deal with what a doctor might be able to do, etc. The struggle with not smoking is hard enough right now that I’m just too overwhelmed to even think of kids. The missing cigarettes outweigh anything else and make everything else just not matter as much. I know Tom sure as hell won’t admit I’m sterile and decide he wants a kid and get down on his knees and beg me to see a doctor with him, so I’ll think about seeing a doctor myself after we move. I think that’d be a good time, cuz then I’ll be so used to missing my cigarettes and trust me, if I still miss them as much as I do, I always will. Also, it’s easier to move two people instead of 3 and if we had a kid in the picture, we wouldn’t be of any help to each other, cuz one of us would have to watch the damn thing. So, I’ll rethink the situation after we’ve moved, but that won’t mean that anything’s changed. I’ll still know a doctor can’t help me and that God said no to a kid. I cannot handle it and God knows it. But I would like to maybe know someday what makes me sterile. Is it a problem with the eggs? Or with the uterus as I think?

Speaking of the things this wimp can’t handle, I begged God to please make the ball player go away that came to play next door. He did, thankfully. Another rude, brazen kid just waltzed right up to the hoop as it was passing by and played for a few minutes. I got a good look at the hoop as we pulled out today and it is untangled, so someone did get the lock out of it as I suspected.

Sunday night is my tentative night for smashing a wine cooler bottle next door. I can’t say for sure that he’s back to his usual shit, but I’m sure he is and that it’ll be more than obvious that he is by the time the day’s out. Yesterday he had pulled in with no music and parked where I could see him up front. I knew he wasn’t in for the day yet since he was up front, and I heard 3 car doors (he doesn’t seem to blast off as much when he’s got the bitch and kid with him). I had to play fucking phone and favors with Andy again a little while later when I heard some music, but then when I looked out, the car was still there. Just a few minutes later, though, I heard voices and the car left, so that tells me that it could’ve been a passing car, but probably wasn’t. Then later, as I was waiting to fall asleep, I heard music 3 different times. Again - a passerby? Or the freeloader? One of those times was the freeloader, I’m sure. So now that we’re gonna be on one of his music harassment campaigns again, he’s gonna have to deal with my harassment campaign, too, and be made to wish he never moved in here. The reason I’ve decided on late Sunday night is cuz Tom will be at work, it’ll suit my schedule better, and it won’t look too obvious (this way I won’t be doing anything till the music’s been a problem again for nearly a week). Yes, I eventually want them to know it was me who terrorized them, but slowly. I want there to be some mystery and confusion for them while I toy with them before I jump out at them in whatever way I’m gonna do so. You see, nothing major’s gonna change over there till September. Meanwhile, that “major change” could be 3 more freeloaders moving in over there. So I have to start now with getting them to see that they’re not welcome here and that their living here is gonna create problems for them.

I just realized, though, that MLK Day’s Monday and that we’re in for a 3-day weekend. So Sunday night’s bottle tossing may have to wait. I know there’s gonna be some kind of shit from over there on Monday. Especially with him living here. Yeah well, they’ve got my shit to listen to, too. The bottle tossing isn’t my only idea of harassment, either. There are others, but I’ll get into it another time.

I thought I just heard some door slamming next door with no music, but I’ll be honest and say that due to these houses being so damn close, you just can’t always be sure who’s doing what.

Tom and I figured out how to sex the mice. It’s really pretty simple, but we’ll have the store people verify that we’ve brought them all males when we go to bring them in.

According to the email I received, both my folks are having physical problems. Ma’s dreading having to use needles for her diabetes, but it’s looking like she’ll have to. She’s got back, thyroid, cholesterol, and arthritis trouble too, and Dad has got to have a triple bypass done on his legs in the spring. It’s similar to open-heart surgery. He’s been having a lot of pain when he walks, and I guess this has to do with the arteries and blood vessels.

I hopefully set Andy straight once and for all about his calls and all that and I think he’s sensitive and understanding enough to my situation, and will back off and cut me some slack. He won’t be around from Saturday to Sunday, cuz he and Michelle are going to a Xena convention in Los Angeles. I was trying to write last night when the phone rang, and I saw it was Andy with yet another fucking call. I said to myself how I was so sick of his calls and favors, and the first thing I heard when I played back his message was, “Jodi, I need a favor.” He said he was afraid Laura would go into his phonebook and get my number and call me, wanting her rent money now for drugs. He said not to give her the money and that she won’t kick my ass or anything. I left him a message that I don’t want these druggies he’s associated with to have my number and that if she came to the door, I’d kick her ass. If he wants friends he can’t trust, fine, but I don’t want to get involved. Besides, we made an agreement a long time ago that we wouldn’t share friends. I also told him that I just cannot handle the daily calls and that I still associate smoking with phones.

So, he left a reply saying he was sorry to put me through Laura’s shit and that he won’t want the money till the end of the month as planned. He also said it “finally hit him” why I don’t like phones now that I “finally” said it. The cigarettes are just a part of it. Meanwhile, I’ve told him time and time again that I’ve outgrown my phoneaholic ways and that I can’t stand to sit still for very long like he does, on phones, while watching TV, etc. I told him not to take it personally and that it doesn’t mean I love him any less. It’s just the way I am, and I’d prefer messages every 3-4 days and a live chat once a week. Not messages and chats every day. And I also reminded him that this excludes emergencies. The only thing that could prevent us from talking if he really needed to talk bad would be if I were asleep or out. So, I thanked him for being supportive and understanding and I also filled him in on what’s up with my parents, Tammy and Lisa.

TUESDAY, JANUARY 13, 1998 Oh, that never-ending pain in the ass! Andy, who just can’t accept things that aren’t meant to be, leaves a message about how this Randy’s blown him off and the only thing he can think of is that he finally managed to download his picture and didn’t like what he saw. Well, I’m sorry for him, but what can I do? I told him yesterday that I really didn’t want to keep playing phone back and forth with him. I had things to do, and phones remind me more of smoking. But what does he do? Leaves me a long message to wake up to and says he’ll call me later as if nothing I said sunk in. Andy really does still have some of that old selfishness in him from back east.

Speaking of back east, poor Laura’s going through what I went through back there with him. I mean, I believe the things Andy’s told me about her and I know she’s no angel and neither was I, but he’s doing it again. They fight for a few days at a time and meanwhile, he’s on the phone bitching to me about his problems with her. He says he does go to her, but I still wouldn’t be surprised if he hasn’t discussed more of their problems with me, than with her.

What doesn’t remain the same, though, is that both of us couldn’t imagine living alone again, when for years, we swore we could never live with anyone. So, when he’s mad at her, he wants her out and to live alone again, but when he’s not mad, he likes the company of a roommate.

Later…

I have bad news pertaining to Tammy and that household, but for once, I actually have some very good news, too!

First, though, Tom and I discussed getting the materials to make my own journals, so I can really use and enjoy this graphics program.

Also, I guess the cock quit coming in for lunch lately, but here we go with God’s balancing act. There’s some dog across the street, about 3 houses diagonally from us, that just won’t shut up. Backyards come around to the fronts of houses out here, too, if you know what I mean. It can come from the back and up to the side of a house and be heard in front, too. That’s why any dog next door that’s obnoxious out back, is all the more obnoxious when it’s on the side, wedged in between the few feet that are between our house and theirs.

Now for the bad news. To begin with, well, I had thought a child would really help ensure I didn’t give in to the many urges to smoke that I still have, but since that can never be, I had hoped for another reason to keep going with it. Better health is enough of a reason, but the more, the merrier. Then I found out that Lisa started smoking 5 months ago. She said she was afraid I’d be ashamed of her for this and that I’d tell her mother. No, I’m not ashamed and won’t tell, I told her, but I am disappointed. I hate to see her have to go through what I went through, which I told her all about. I reminded her how we promised not to commit suicide if our lives got that tough, and I asked her to please not smoke with me and give me more reason to not go back to it myself. She said she would, as hard as it is and as much as she’ll miss them, but I agree with Tom. Initially, she won’t quit, but hopefully she will in time if she sees I’m still not smoking. She said she kind of likes them. Yeah, I kind of liked them too, and I was hooked after just the first cigarette too, but she just doesn’t get it. Just like I thought cigarettes wouldn’t hurt me and that if they did, I’d have to be really old, she doesn’t realize how much they can and will hurt an asthmatic. I started smoking at her age, too, and by the time I hit my early 20s, is when the trouble began. If she keeps smoking, she’s not gonna be able to sit down and enjoy singing without having to clear her throat a lot, either.

At Tom’s suggestion, I called Dad yesterday to see if he could give me any tips since I still have urges a lot. As a child, I hated being lectured by him, but now, I could use all the reminders as to why I shouldn’t smoke. He said everyone’s different as far as how long and frequent urges are, but that the bottom line is willpower and that no one should smoke.

Now here’s the good news in Tammy’s life. Good news for once! And I’m so happy for her. I haven’t heard her sound this happy in years. Maybe never at all. She is divorcing that self-absorbed, negative husband of hers and is seeing someone new and wonderful, she says. I don’t know if she fell in love with this guy Mark enough to know she wanted to be with him and that’s what prompted her to finally move on and ditch Bill, or if she ditched Bill, then realized her love for Mark. Tammy’s never lived alone, and she could never live without a man, so I’d bet it was her falling for Mark that made her dump Bill, but more power to her.

I think that the mistake she made marrying Dick was cuz she was young, naïve, and desperate to get out of the house and the mistake she made marrying Bill was cuz Ma pressured her so she could get her and Lisa out of the house. Ma’s favorite pastime was to get rid of her kids any way she could.

Anyway, she says this 47-year-old Italian guy that owns his own business, really treats her well both in and out of bed. She told me that with Bill, there was no foreplay and the sex was over in no time, but with Mark, she’s got the foreplay, etc. She says she can really talk to him and that he really listens and is into what she’s into, but Bill never cared about her interests. This is so true, too, cuz on my visits to them when I lived back there, Bill never asked me about my life (not that I had much of one to discuss) and he never seemed to give a damn about the things that mattered to me.

Mark and his wife Mary, who died a few months ago of cancer, knew both Tammy and Bill. I forget if they all met through Tammy’s job working with terminally ill cancer people, or if they knew each other before she started that work. Anyway, Bill doesn’t know they’re lovers. She’s staying at the house and she’s changed the locks, too. Hopefully, Bill won’t be allowed visitation rights, but with people being so into biology, versus what’s best for kids, I’d doubt that he’d be ordered to stay away from them.

Another wonderful thing about this guy is that Tammy says he’s good with the kids and really cares about them, too, whereas Bill and most guys could care less. He and Mary had two kids who are 18 and 21 and Mary had a few kids with her first husband. The neat thing about this is that Tammy’s described him a lot like I’d describe Tom, and you know how wonderful Tom is to me, with the exception of his not coming clean about wanting a kid, and his sloppy, disorganized manner. I’d constantly wish that Tammy could have a husband like mine and I always believed that she’d envy me had she known Tom like I do. Not anymore! I hope that this really is the right guy after all this time, and I get the feeling it is. I’m really happy for her, cuz she deserves happiness for once! If I remember anything else she told me about Mark, I’ll write it in.

MONDAY, JANUARY 12, 1998 Andy, Andy, Andy! Him and his calls and his favors! Well, his favors aren’t nearly as frequent as his calls, but he really bugs me. He really bugs me! He’s on my nerves constantly, but he just doesn’t get it!

I scanned and sent a picture of him to this guy he could just meet in person if he really wanted to know what he looks like. Then he left a message asking me to rescan it for him cuz the dude couldn’t open the damn picture. So I scanned and sent it again and left the guy step-by-step instructions for viewing the picture. Then I had to play phone with him some more. You know, from now on, I’m not gonna check my messages when I first wake up. It’s too overwhelming to have to sit there and listen to 5-10 minutes of his babbling when I first get up. These are the things that should make me grateful that I don’t have a child smothering me right when I first get up, then all day long, too.

That’s a debatable subject as far as pre-cum impregnating a fertile woman. We screwed 3 days in a row. The days that are the most likely for a woman to conceive if she can. So, if I was OK, some would say I should be pregnant, some would say I shouldn’t be. It depends on who you believe. Some say that all it takes is one and pre-cum is enough to do the trick. Especially if there’s a few days’ worth of it. Others say it’s not enough and there wouldn’t be millions of sperm if just a few could make it. Well, whatever. The bottom line’s still the same - it isn’t meant to be whether I was fertile or not, whether he came or not, whether he came a lot or not.

It’s been the quietest it’s ever been next door with him there. There’s been no dog, no music, not even as much door slamming. Maybe the letter really did scare them into laying low-key and quiet so as not to provoke anyone. I love the peace they’ve been giving me, but now that I’ve got so much anger worked up due to the two years’ worth of shit they’ve given me in intervals (although sending the letter’s eliminated some of the anger), I kind of wish they’d give me an excuse to act up on my end cuz I’ve got so many things planned for them. In time, though. They’ll go back to their usual shit, at least music-wise, soon enough. Then I’ll be there to make them wish they’d never moved in there. They’re gonna really think they’ve got a crazed, hate stalker on their ass once I put my ideas into action! The first thing I thought I’d start with once the music cues me in, is to throw one of my wine cooler bottles over the block wall into their carport, or at the house itself, in the middle of the night. With my luck, they’ll sleep through it and not even come to investigate, but we’ll see. I’m gonna be provoked into action soon enough, so I’ll let you know what I do first, although I still wouldn’t be surprised if I kicked someone’s ass over there when Tom wasn’t around.

Still learning and having fun with the different cards, stationery, banner, envelope, programs and so much more. Andy really loved the Gloria border I made. Yup, I can print a bunch of tiny pictures of her for a border. I may do up these to cut out and glue into my written journals.

SUNDAY, JANUARY 11, 1998 Boy, is it foggy out there. I can barely make out the nearest houses. It rained on and off all day yesterday.

I attached that scan of my hair I had made to my folk’s email as a joke. I got a reply back saying that was a cute picture, they know how those things work and are busy with business and doctors. I asked about the doctors, but who knows if I’ll get a response to that one? We’ll see.

Andy also wanted me to scan and send a picture of him to this guy he met on the meeting line. Of course, I know it’s another loser, but I’m amazed someone who’d call this thing would have a computer. So, I scanned and sent it and Andy said I could let him know if he was his type if he sends a picture back of himself.

I had a block on my email, blocking out mail from anyone who wasn’t an AOL member, but that’d mean I couldn’t get a reply from someone Andy wanted me to send mail to who wasn’t an AOL user. So, I typed in only those I selected to get an email from. A part of me wishes I never told Andy about AOL and the scanner, cuz now he’s gonna bug me to send this and that.

Yesterday turned out to be a very pleasant day. I only hope God doesn’t compensate me for it by having today be an uncool day cuz that’s how it usually works.

I did some more experimenting/learning with the graphics thing and made Tom up a calendar for this month. Every month I’ll make one up with a different border. I gave him basketballs this time.

I also made a really pretty ballerina banner that’s almost as long as I am.

The mice are so cute when they get all playful. They jump up and down and run around just like the pig and rabbit.

According to Tom, he’s seen some wild orgies and threesomes going on. He says that he doubts they’re actually screwing unless some of them are gay since one would screw one and then the one doing the screwing in the first place would get screwed. I suppose that if some humans can be attracted to the same sex, that rule could apply to animals, too, but I just hope that guy’s right and that in February all the boys will be gone and I won’t have any pregnant females. If I do, though, I’ll just bring them those batches, too.

White Feet is in the window now. The cats sit on the pool pump to keep warm. Tom forgot to turn off the pilot light after draining the pool so its flat surface is warm.

I was nervous as all hell about this, and wouldn’t have initiated sex if he didn’t, but I did get brave enough to screw with him twice yesterday. I got what I expected, and I didn’t get what I expected. I expected him to take advantage of his fears and tease me by not getting in there. He got in there, but as I did expect, he didn’t cum. He tried to tell me he did “a little” and that there was more in the way of feeling than juice. Of course, though, I know a guy can’t cum without letting out some juice, but still, it was fun and I hope his games and God’s interferences (although God did try!) can be a thing of the past. I just want to move on now. I accept I can’t have a child, am OK with it now, and am prepared to deal with it, but I don’t want Tom or God to insult me with a freaky sex life, either. Even though yesterday didn’t turn out to be Tom’s fun and games in bed, I’m still reluctant to screw today too, cuz like I said, things have a way of making up for themselves and I don’t want today to be the day that he decides not to go in there. I was shocked that I could get up, run to the bathroom to throw some KY down there for some dryness, return to bed, then resume screwing. In the past, he’d be so distracted by that, that he’d have to “clear his mind” and start all over again. He said things change and people progress, but I still see the fears/excuses. So that’s why I can go out of my way to not smoke, get a new bed, do this, do that, and it doesn’t really change things all that much, cuz the bottom line is his fear and wanting to tease. Nothing I can do can help with that. If our sex lives had started off with us using birth control, that’d be different. Then we wouldn’t have had the freaky sex nearly as much.

He says that not smoking has made a difference for the better right away, but it’s mostly a gradual thing that occurs over time. Yeah. Whatever. I don’t want no more shit. That’s all. He’s obviously never gonna come clean, so if I don’t mention a child and all that, he gladly won’t, and then this is the only way we can move on. I know the truth and that’s what counts. And also, his wants are more important to me than my wants, so even if I still really wanted a kid as bad, his not wanting one and his not wanting to go to a doctor is more important. So, I’ll try to keep the subject a closed chapter as best I can cuz I want him to be happy and as we all know, people won’t always say what’ll make them happy, cuz when someone loves you, they’re more self-conscious about what they tell you.

Later…

Except for the barking dogs that prevented me from even eating a bagel in peace in my own damn kitchen, it’s a damp, cold, dead-quiet day out there. Personally, I wish it could be like this every day till we move. Especially as long as we have the sickos for neighbors. However, I’m also sick of being cold and if they really wanted to irk me with noise, they’d find a way. So far, though, it’s been a quiet weekend. Is this cuz they assume the letter was from me and are just biding their time? Or are they assuming it’s from me and hoping to catch me doing something else? I hope that they are hoping to catch me doing something else (which they won’t do), cuz this would mean they’d have to behave. It wouldn’t look good for them to drag me into court complaining that I did whatever, all the while they’ve been harassing and bugging me with music, etc.

Well, the toys may be gone, the dog may gone, the music may be quiet at this time, and the cops may have been there, but they’re not breaking up or moving. I just know it. My gut tells me that if there’s to be a significant change of any kind over there again while we’re here, it’s not happening till around September.

Another thing we did yesterday that I forgot to mention, is that we played around more with those push molds. We used clay and plastic to mold roses, bunnies, and teddy bears.

We screwed earlier and today was a repeat of yesterday - got inside/didn’t cum. At least he’s a lot braver than he was last month. Last month he wouldn’t even stick it in there.

FRIDAY, JANUARY 9, 1998 It’s time for me to be all stressed out. The weekend’s here. According to Tom, the car’s been moving again. In other words, the asshole’s still there, as I figured, and will be up to his usual shit in just a matter of time.

I’ve been so busy that I haven’t written much lately, so I hope I can remember to cover all that’s been going on.

Andy got led on and blown off by yet another guy. It’s just not meant to be for him. He enjoyed Stevie cruising on the web and visiting with me.

Tom got a bottle of Metabolics and like I said, if this doesn’t work, nothing will. He said he talked to someone there and since it’s from a health store, it shouldn’t have any side effects. We didn’t see anything written about that, anyway. The person there said this is their most popular brand that I’ve got and should see results in two weeks.

Tom also got his new glasses. They’re a lot nicer. He wears contacts more often, though.

Now for my frustrating, yet wonderful new toy. Tom got a print studio program that lets you do so much in the way of graphic art. The things you can do with it amazes me. The possibilities are endless. I can make my own stationery by adding some kind of border design (including pictures of Gloria and Norah to border with), or by making a background page that I type over. And the thing I love about this printer is that the ink doesn’t get lighter and lighter till it dies like a dot matrix with ribbons does. It stays the same sharp colors till the ink runs out of its cartridges.

I’ll be getting a wire-bound unruled journal for sure, so I can insert clipart and graphics into my text and type over pages with designs on them.

The clipart and pictures this thing contains are amazing. There are so many. Everything from artwork to live images. There’s every subject imaginable, too - animals, food, textiles, floral, icons, woods, metals, fun designs, plants, etc.

It even has a card-making program and I made some really cool cards of a few different sizes that fold differently from one another. In a way they look just like something you’d buy in a store, only the paper’s not as heavy or as glossy. They have glossy paper you can get for inkjets that print pictures out of say, Gloria, Norah, anyone, in an even more realistic and higher photographic quality.

I made tons of samples up for Tom that I did to practice with and learn with. I also made up a card for his ma. It’s got pretty scenery on the front, ducks on the back, with a brief message saying that I made it special for her.

Tom was right when he said I’d like it for letters, but not for journals. The word processor it has is really one fucked up program. It’d be very hard for me to describe why that is. You’d have to know a little about computers and know the different programs I’m talking about, but it’s bad. It does have a spell checker, but you can’t tell what line you’re on, selecting is a bitch, you can’t change fonts, sizes or colors easily, and the page doesn’t move as you type.

Later…

I saw that they’re up next door, cuz I saw a light on 15 minutes ago. I guess the freeloaders mainly leave at 7 AM. I’m waiting to hear how he leaves. It’s when he comes in for lunch that’d give me an idea of what he’s up to at the moment, but I’ll be asleep through it. I don’t think this weekend will be a problem as far as any parties cuz they’re out of season. The company, outside chats that last more than a minute or two, and bopping around the carport, won’t escalate till it warms up. And you can only have so many birthdays. There wouldn’t have even been a party all winter if it hadn’t been for him being around (the kid’s party).

I still can’t believe the dog’s gone! I just can’t believe it! She must’ve got caught with it. I can’t imagine she’d give it up voluntarily. I don’t miss that thing barking for 2-3 hours a day and sometimes more, but how’s this gonna affect the music situation if this dog stays away and isn’t replaced by another dog?

I wish these fucking freeloaders would just move on. I may not get anyone any better over there, but still, they’ve been 3 feet away from me for too long. They’ve got to go. I just don’t want them there anymore. I was here first and I’m saying it’s time for them to move on. So, as soon as they act up and I know about it, I’ll make them wish they never moved in there. As I said before, there’s something I could do about the music quickly, but it may just be worth my time and effort to slowly terrorize them. If I began harassing them on February 1st, for example, I’ll have them out of here by June 1st. I drove those Mormons out of here. I mean, I know a part of their moving probably had to do with the city, with a house that was too small for them, and other things, but I think I was a part of their moving. I didn’t mean to drive them away; I just didn’t want their kids screaming 3 feet away from me. I would take that and a dog over the music, but I’d rather not have to deal with anything as far as other people’s noise. I’ve had enough of it. Someday, though. Someday we’ll be out of here and won’t live where we and the neighbors could reach out from our windows and practically be holding hands. When you live where your bedroom is closer to the neighbor’s driveway than your own, that really sucks.

Later…

El cocko left just after 7:30. It didn’t play any music. It didn’t even slam its door that hard. Just someone saying, “Whoa, whoa, whoa.”

I decided that since Tom’s so against me doing anything violent or scaring someone to their face, I’d compromise with him. I won’t deck them, but I will be heard, too. God may see to it that they don’t hear me, but I will do everything in my power to not only be heard when I hear them (when I hear a lot more of them than what I just heard, obviously), I’ll make them want to move. Haven’t heard those sounds coming from their yard, so I’d guess that those scraping sounds I heard were the dog nosing and pawing its bowl around. It did sound like it could’ve been plastic scraping concrete after all. I’m surprised he’s still parking in the carport at this time of year with the dog gone, but then again, I’m not. It’s easier to see someone that may mess with your beloved car stereo when they’re in the carport, versus just outside of it. After that letter, I doubt he’ll park outside the carport much.

I realized something that this letter could’ve ensured, unfortunately, and that’s their staying together. She may use this as an excuse to keep him under her wing and he may want to play big, tough man and stay with her cuz of this. Anyway, enough freeloader talk for now.

What the fuck was that? I just heard this really loud bang that was even louder than their damn car doors, but I can’t blame this one on them when they’ve already left. Maybe it was a big truck, but all I hear right now is the guard dogs. Thank you, God, for not having me be asleep for this big bang!

Speaking of God and noise, though, he sure does have a way of balancing things out. It makes me wonder - if we move to where it’s remote, will he give me other problems, like having me be bothered by some unknown source of noise that Tom and I won’t be able to identify? Or will I just start waking up a lot for no reason? Not that I’ve had a problem sleeping around here cuz 97% of the time I’ve been here I slept just fine. It’s the disturbances I get when I’m up that are the issue, but that’s better than having my sleep be an issue like it was in the NHA. If these freeloaders ever stole my sleep, I would kick their asses in a heartbeat.

This winter, so far, has produced less of other stereos blaring by. I’m sure God figured he’d spare me the drive-by stereos this winter, knowing that the stress of Mr. Fuck next door would compensate for it and any shit I may get from him.

Tom’s passing his test with flying colors. What I mean by “passing” is that he’s doing just what I knew he’d do. Not that this was a lie on my part, but I made it clear to him enough that I wanted to just accept fate and move on, so to speak, and I figured he’d take that to his advantage. I had told him that if having a kid meant that much to him, he could let me know and ask me to make a doctor’s appointment. I know he thinks I’m fertile, but he had said he was gonna take the beginning steps and get a physical “just in case” once we got our new medical cards (our insurance is now Intergroup), but he hasn’t made a move yet to make an appointment. He’s had the time, too, but he hasn’t read their brochures or anything. That’s some motivated guy! He really wants that kid!

Anyway, since you either have kids or life, I really appreciate my sterility/freedom when we get new programs like this graphics thing that provide hours of fun that I couldn’t have had with a child. I also have nothing to worry about as far as our getting together this weekend (prime time) so he can have an attack of amnesia and forget how to fuck me. I’ve dropped enough hints about how many things need to be done this weekend, so I don’t think the scaredy-cat will bother. He knows I’m uncomfortable about it, too. He hasn’t said so, but I just know, and I know where his true feelings lie, so I’m sure he’ll be happy to forget about sex till next week. Unless he really wants to play games and tease me. Also, my schedule’s gonna be on nights, and he’ll probably be working on Mary’s car. Mary always needs work done on her car.

Paula left a message last night, but once again, we’re playing phone tag.

Andy left 3 goddamn messages Wednesday, tried calling twice yesterday, so I’m sure I’ll get 2-3 messages today of the same old.

I called to see what was going on with Tammy and she was on her way to her second home - the doctor’s office.

God, these freeloaders have really scarred me, so to speak, with their fucking bass. Just like the NHA scarred me with other sounds. If I hear anything, like a big truck that resembles a bassy sound, I totally tense up. Thanks, freeloaders. Thanks a fucking lot! Well, hopefully the nasty, hateful things I said in my letter to them will make the lasting impression on them that they’ve made on me. Speaking of lasting impressions, though, as much as they’ve stressed me out and made my life miserable on and off, when we move, I won’t remain so scarred as I did after leaving the NHA. After leaving the NHA, there were still similar sounds and the same sounds that triggered that old familiar tension in me and that brought me right back there in my mind. But when we leave here, there’ll be no kids, bass, dogs, slamming, banging, screaming, and all that shit that I had to live with, to remind me and to stress me out.

WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 7, 1998 I am waiting for Andy to arrive. He’ll be late, as usual, but he has to leave by 10:30 when I get Tom up, cuz we have to go to the store. We’re looking into something they’ve got that’s supposed to speed up your metabolism. I’m now 122 pounds and it’s getting hard to just accept my weight as it is. Unfortunately, though, I have a distinct feeling that something up there does not want me to lose weight. Therefore, if this doesn’t work, nothing will, and I’ll really be forced to just deal with being fat.

Later…

Andy miraculously showed up when I completed my last sentence. He’s on the Internet now.

Anyway, I hope I can find a way to speed up my metabolism, cuz that’s the key to weight loss/gain. People think it’s all diet and exercise. A good diet will keep you healthier and exercise will keep you more fit, but that’s not where it’s at for me right now.

TUESDAY, JANUARY 6, 1998 Tom scanned a picture of me which he cut to fit in one of his little picture frames that my folks sent. He put it on his monitor.

David and Evie sent me an email that I didn’t get cuz I have a block on mail from those who aren’t AOL members. They’re gonna resend it to Tom, who’ll forward it to me. I think it’s Evie who sent me an email. She’s home alone all day with two kids and probably feels she has no life. We have nothing in common, though, so I don’t know what I’d write about when replying to her, but I’ll think of something.

Something insists I deal with junk mail for sure. There’s no escaping it. First it was just mail from other AOL members and now AOL itself is sending it. Are they ever gonna set up junk mail controls for themselves? Of course not! They’re so fucking annoying, though, cuz every time I go into something, I have to wait for this form to come up for some bullshit item they’re selling, be it encyclopedias on CD-ROM, etc.

It is freezing out there! I just went to empty the recyclables and it’s cold. It had only been getting down to around 55º but I’m sure it’ll get close to 40º out there tonight.

My TV dinner’s just about ready, so I’ll return after.

Later…

It’s a good thing I have an eye for detail. When we went to the hardware store a while ago, I saw a light identical to the one that Tom put up in the back room. Now those two old, ugly ceiling lights/fans are gone and now there are two nice-looking fluorescent lights. These ones, though, aren’t too bright.

The new king-size comforter we got is nice and I love how it’s colorful, but I could never get it into this small washer to wash. Tom says that the old one’s easy to fix and that it’s the same problem we’ve had before, so he knows how to fix it. So, we’ll just run a hose to it when we want to use it in the garage where it’s at now, drain it in a tub, then dump it out back. This way I can do big things like that. He doesn’t have to worry about a hookup to where there’s hot water either cuz we can wash things like a comforter and curtains in cold water.

The mice’s cage is in 5 sections, so to speak. There are the 3 Play City cages, the maze, and the aquarium. I created a new setup that both of us really like. I cleared some of my stuff off my little worktable and ran a tube down from the house that sits on top of the aquarium, to the maze that now sits on my worktable. So as I write by hand, the mice are just a few inches away. Some of them are, anyway.

Everyone’s making babies around here (except for us, of course) and we’re gonna have to get rid of that bitch of a mother cat somehow someday soon. She’s gonna have more kittens for sure, cuz Daddy Cat’s been hanging around like crazy. Tom says he hopes that Mama Cat will leave when she gets pregnant. Not a chance. Naturally, she’ll stay where the food is and where she already knows she’s safe. I still wonder about these mice, too.

Tom and I have been getting along better lately. I tell you, it’s cuz we haven’t had much sex and cuz we haven’t discussed this child we can never have that he doesn’t want. As soon as that’s the topic of discussion and as soon as there’s more sex than once a week or so, there goes the fights. Sex and relationships really don’t mix too much better than oil and water.

MONDAY, JANUARY 5, 1998 I just did some singing and now I’m back to write some more.

I hope to hell the guy at the pet store knew what he was talking about when he said that mice don’t become sexually active till 6 months, cuz I’ve been seeing a lot of screwing. I hope it’s just a case of instinct taking them through the motions like with a puppy dog and nothing that’s reproducing. If it is, though, we’ll just do what Tom said and take in boxes of mice. Lots of mice.

Later…

I ended up scanning some pictures for Kim and Bob, too.

I’ve decided that if I don’t hear from Anne and Harry in the next few months, I’ll do what I did with Shelly and write no more. Remember, I don’t want any 1-sided relationships of any kind.

I asked Tom if Ma was getting cold feet about moving cuz I thought by now she’d be in with Mary and have the house up for sale. Tom told me that she’s decided on March 1st to be moved and I guess that’s when she’ll place the house up for sale, too. I hope to hell it doesn’t take a year to sell. Then poor Tom will have to mow it and have the responsibility of that house for even longer.

As soon as that house sells, though, God will fill Tom’s time with other stuff. I really believe that he’s always wanted us to screw part-time and not have much time together for another reason, along with the ones I’ve already mentioned. He (God) that is. Well, due to us not being able to see each other much or screw much - it makes it more special when we do. However, things have changed as far as the sex goes. We seem to be the opposite of what we were towards the beginning of our relationship. Now he seems to want sex more than me. Thankfully, it’s not that his appetite’s that much higher than it was, but the sex has really “died” for me, so to speak. The only reasons for it that I can think of are that it isn’t new anymore (we’re not newlyweds), and all the shit/teasing he’s pulled.

If I could have my way, I’d never screw again during prime time, as sterile as I am! I don’t ever want to be the source of his teasing, lying games ever again! I’m going to make an excuse to get out of sex from the 9th to the 11th or so, and he knows it. I can tell he knows that I’m gonna want to bail out of bed then and I’m afraid he’s gonna try to lure me to him at that time so he can play with me yet again. And suddenly “forget” how to get inside me. And act as if he’s never fucked a woman before in his life. But I see right through Tom S. I see the real fun in it for him. And the fear, too. I asked myself time and time again - why’d he cum the 5-7 or so times he came during prime time? That’s the one and only thing that contradicts my belief of his being too scared/not wanting a child. The only thing that comes to mind is that he took the chance to see if he could create a cover for the truth.

Later…

Tom and I went to the store earlier so I could pick up the next few months’ worth of birthday cards, although there are no March birthdays. For January, I got cards for Larry and Lisa. For February, I got cards for Jen, Sandy, and Andy.

While I was at the store, I also got a couple of refrigerator magnets with cactus/desert scenes. They also had scorpions embedded in round plastic domes, not that I’d ever get one. David and Evie had plenty, though. Some construction work that was going on near where they live stirred them up and they were finding them in their drawers in their clothes and everywhere. Evie wanted to move. Instead, though, they got a scorpion expert to come out and exterminate them.

God and his fucking compensations, I swear! Now that I can breathe, there isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t fucking sneeze! Tom and I both think we’re allergic to the stinky mice, but they’re worth it.

Anyway, some days may be easier than others, but I still miss my cigarettes every day. It’s still a lot like trading in one misery for another. You either smoke and suffer from lung trouble and pay the cost of it, or you quit and suffer the cravings and the weight gain.

Remember how I said that now that the holidays are over, and as we get closer to Ma’s house being sold, God would give Tom other jobs? Well, he’s trying. A crazy woman that Evelyn knows called looking for Tom to tutor her on some project she’s working on. She said she had surgery and wondered if the anesthesia killed her brain. She reminds me so much of Ellie and Ma’s crazy sister Margaret. Ma has a lot of half and whole sisters. There’s Opal, Geneva (Neva), Evelyn, Margaret, and Betty, who’s passed away, as well as a few others I’m sure I’m forgetting. Nonetheless, Tom told the liar who said she called only once when she really called twice according to the caller ID box, that he was too busy.

SUNDAY, JANUARY 4, 1998 I hear noises every now and then outside and am like, is it the cats or the freeloaders? You never know with the freeloaders, who are mostly night people. Tom says, though, that the car hasn’t been moved. Then I either saw wrong when I thought I saw it out front, or he parked it in the same exact spot. If that car’s still there either way, then they obviously aren’t broken up. If he isn’t there and isn’t driving something else, then where are he and the dog? It shocks the shit out of me that I haven’t heard the dog or the music, but I know it’s just a matter of time. Especially when it comes to the music. I wonder if the beast could’ve turned on and attacked him and laid his ass in the hospital, or if he could be in jail? We heard a car door or two in the early evening, then a short while later, we heard a kid cry and car doors again.

Well, the cats are definitely making noise now. I can hear them banging on the back door. I open the door and offer to let them in for a while, but they either just stand there and stare at me, or come in and walk around for a few minutes, then they’re all anxious to split.

Tweety chirps on and off, but there’s something about running water. He really loves to chirp to the sound of that. Also, I was playing a CD by Linda earlier and singing along and there was just one song, out of the 5 or so I played, that Tweety must’ve really liked, cuz it’s the only one he sang to.

The kittens love to sit outside the back room window and swat at bugs that are drawn to the light that’s just inside it.

Anyway, Tom says my singing was excellent as usual but better in the way that it’s clearer. Yeah, I definitely don’t have to clear my throat every other line anymore, but it’s still rather nasally.

Later…

Boy, have I been having fun with the new scanner! Tom showed me a few little tricks to make scanning, enhancing photos, and printing them, much easier. I showed him a thing or two myself. Things I stumbled upon while exploring/experimenting with the program.

We scanned and printed out a larger version of a couple of small pictures I had of Gloria, and even a journal cover of mine, too! I want to have a picture of the cover of each of my written journals at the head of each of their typed versions but I’ve got to wait till I update my old word processor first. Tom thinks Mary can get us a copy from where she works.

I also scanned several photos of Tom and me for Paula, Larry, and Anne & Harry. I even sent a couple to Tammy. I am amazed at the quality of what they printed! They’re almost as good as the original photograph.

I was dead wrong about Andy’s new roommate Gary. He is not a druggie. According to him, all he does is smoke cigarettes. I was shocked.

It figures - we pump more water out of the pool and what does it do? It rains.

I was right on what I saw after all. Tom said he saw the car in the same spot, only it was parked facing the street. Yeah, I knew the fuck was there. He was gone all day and asked if I slept OK since he knows how they can be with slamming car doors. I slept fine fortunately for them and won’t do anything more to them till they make their next move with their noise. They haven’t been heard yet, but one of us will hear the music any day now. But I don’t know what I feel more of - shocked or thrilled, that the dog’s still not back yet!!

FRIDAY, JANUARY 2, 1998 Phoenix, AZ Age 32

I better get writing before I get any more backed up.

The last few days have brought us pleasant daytime weather. Even warm weather. Before that, it was chilly in the day and freezing at night, but that will return for another month and a half or so.

So far, I’m doing well with my New Year’s resolution. As I said, there is knowing you can’t change something, and then there’s learning to live with that fact. So, I’m bound and determined to have this be the year that I learn to live with and accept the things that just cannot be changed. If I try not to let things get me down and eat at me, maybe I can have a happier and even more productive life.

Now let me get the neighborhood animals out of the way first. I had worried that the freeloaders would be a part of our New Year’s Day, but guess who decided to be a part of it instead? Someone I haven’t heard from in years - the lonely, wanna-be-heard-and-noticed college boys across the street. It wasn’t by them playing music in their little band they used to form but by their car stereo. Leave it to them to have a car with this kind of stereo. However, God was on my side with this one as he was when I told them to shut their band up. I asked once to turn it down and they did so. They didn’t have selective memory loss and not give a shit and blast it again a few hours later.

So far I haven’t heard the freeloaders, but Martin Luther King Day is later this month, so I know I’ll hear them on MLK Day. That brings me to another part of my new year’s resolution and that is that 1998 will not include their shit and their noise. As soon as he steps out of line with the music, I’m either gonna put him in his place and beat him into utter fear of fucking with me, or I’ll terrorize the shit out of them and drive them out of here. I was here first, and I don’t want these freeloaders to be an on-and-off part of my life anymore.

Every time I think I’ve got a handle on just what they’re up to next door, they throw me a curveball. I don’t know if the pigs had anything to do with me, with him, or what, but they can’t be broken up. Not with the way his car sat there for days and how they were talking earlier. I’d say that yes, there was no one there on New Year’s Eve and the night before, but they’ve been back since yesterday. I know the car has finally moved, cuz it was out front when I heard the mad bitch. Amazingly, the dog hasn’t returned yet, but anytime now I’m sure it will. His music hasn’t been a problem yet, but like I said, when it is, I’ll either put a final end to it, or I’ll dish back some shit of my own and really play with them like they were toys. It might be fun to make their lives a living hell and be their worst nightmare. However, kicking his ass would be a quicker solution.

I haven’t been a member of Gloria’s fan club in years now, but they’re still sending stuff. There was a holiday postcard with her photocopied handwriting that said she designed the front of it on her computer. A boring design it was, and her handwriting’s sloppier than mine.

Tom set up the VCR/computer so I could capture more Norah pictures than just the one I’ve been using all along, for my random screensaver/wallpaper collection. This was a lot of fun to do.

We got a new color inkjet printer and a color flatbed scanner, and I love them! I re-printed my old Norah pictures and some of Gloria’s and they’re so much better! They’re almost of photographic quality for sure. The scanner’s pretty sophisticated and now I can just scan any drawings for my folks or for Tammy and attach copies with my email to them, or print out copies for Larry, but there’s a catch. So far, I’ve been teaching myself how to use the stuff. The printer’s pretty easy, but there’s so much entailed within the scanner and each procedure seemed to take forever. I scanned in an old, small picture of Gloria. Then I tried to enhance the quality, but it took forever. I’ll have to ask Tom some questions about this, but boy did I shock the shit out of myself last night! I did things I can’t believe I did on my own without being taught.

I had taken a break from my video captions project, then went back to it later, and forgot to put them into my wallpaper file. So, it took me a while to find them, which I amazingly did. Then I had to figure out how to cut/paste them into my wallpaper file, then dither all the colors. I couldn’t believe I figured all this out myself! I’m sure if I kept poking at the scanner’s program I could learn more, but I’d rather wait for Tom for now.

THURSDAY, JANUARY 1, 1998 Tom just got back in from working on Eileen’s daughter’s computer and what did he get for it? Cupcakes. Just cupcakes. He says Eileen will make it up to him, but I just knew it. I knew that as soon as that house sold the users would come crawling out of the woodwork again. Not that I’m not glad the house sold, but if I had business pals, I’d expect to be paid up front.

Tom said my doll could come on Tuesday since mailmen typically don’t deliver packages on Monday, unless they’re first class, cuz they have a higher volume of regular mail those days. It seems I spend more time waiting for dolls than I do enjoying them.

Tom read in an ad in a magazine, that John Saul’s Blackstone Chronicles was a TV miniseries. It was? Since when?

Last night’s movie was great, and no one was pregnant or gave birth! I couldn’t believe it.

I heard not one stereo blast by all weekend. I was shocked. I really thought Halloween would bring out those bangers.

OK, here’s our freeloader’s behavior report - first off, no one was dumb enough to knock on our door last night, and there were a lot of people out this year. I saw more adults out there than kids, too.

There was no music all weekend. At 6:30 yesterday evening, I came out of the bedroom where the fan had been blaring and where we were lying together reading and talking, and I saw the white car out front. I figured they were out making their rounds, although Tom said he doubted they trick or treated in this neighborhood. Yeah, that’d make sense. I’m sure they have enough enemies around here. It looks like they did, though, unless they came out of their house and not from the streets at 8:00. All I know is that I suddenly heard a car door that I knew was next door and was thinking, the car’s leaving. That was easy enough. Then the reality of how they operate came through again and I told myself, they’re not gonna just leave. You know them. They want to be heard. Especially by you. They’ve got to slam some doors, honk some horns, and do some yelling before they leave. You know that. So, there weren’t any honks, but there was a good 5-10 minutes of door slamming and yelling. That bitch was furious about something and was yelling at what sounded like some other woman.

Today, Tom reported a small white car that he’d never seen before came to get the bitch at 7:30 and then brought her back later. She must’ve snuck out unnoticed at some point, cuz at 3:00 I saw the white car, the bitch, and a black boy that looked too young to be the one I spoke to when I threatened to shoot the dog. It jumped up and swung off the basketball hoop, which I hopelessly prayed would break while it was doing so, then they both disappeared from view, and the car left. It didn’t look like the bitch or boy left in this car, but I couldn’t tell for sure.

I think I figured out why that bitch goes to church. Well, it obviously isn’t because she’s so kind and believes in being all nice and loving and wonderful and non-selfish and all that good stuff. The church may preach hate against gays and against those who are different than them, but they do give to and pity the poor. That small white car could’ve been from the church she goes to and I’ll bet you the only reason she goes to church is to see what she can get.

I asked Tom if he felt that there’d have been nothing we could do about the music if they were owners and not renters at risk of losing the house, short of beating the shit out of them, and he said no. People can still complain and people still get citations for breaking the law. Yeah, but I think going about it the legal way would’ve been much harder, and taking illegal action would’ve been much more necessary.

When I see Bill, I see a bit more sense and maturity there, so I’d think, I’d hope that he’d try talking some sense into his daughter and her cronies, and say, “If all they want is for your noise to be kept out of their home, give it to them. That’s no big deal, and it’s a reasonable request, so just shut up and leave these people alone. They didn’t do anything to you to start all this and to deserve it. It was only after you so selfishly and rudely ignored their reasonable request that they fought back. They gave you enough chances to quiet down before going to the city and I’m sure they didn’t want to and I’m sure they didn’t want trouble any more than most people, but when you shit, you get shit on. You get treated how you treat folks.”

She’s just lucky I didn’t severely maim her that day she took her tantrum on my doorstep, and Mikey’s lucky, too. If it weren’t for Tom, I’d have beaten the shit out of them a long time ago. No doubt about it. So they have him to thank.

Speaking of good ole Mikey, I haven’t seen him. When he moved out late ‘96 - early ‘97 he’d still come around on weekends, but I haven’t seen his car in weeks. Does he pick her up in the mornings? Bring her back at night?

Tom still believes that they’ll stay as good as they have been till we move and that we’ll go first. If they’ve got to say hello with the music every 3 months, fine, but they don’t have a choice but to be as they have been. He still feels June’s a likely time for us to move, but admits that anything could come up to stall us. If something can come up to delay it, it will. My June vibe’s weakened and now I’m wondering about August. I do strongly vibe that that was our last Halloween here, so that’s good.

Damn, bitch! You really get out and about on Sundays, don’t you? I just heard a car door, looked out and saw Bill’s car, then someone was reaching into the backseat, then they shut the back door, then Bill left. I assume this someone was the bitch, even though it’s dark now. I could tell by the aggressive manner in which her shadow moved and by how hard she slammed doors. Anyway, I’m sure she’s tucked in for the night now. And in just 12 hours she’ll have to leave for quite a while again. Yuck! I can tell she’s not the homebody type.

If there are two things I could ask this bitch, one thing would be, are you ever in a good mood? Secondly, do you always have your hair in a ponytail tucked under at the nape of your neck? I only saw it down once.

Now for my best news. I’m so proud of myself, too! I didn’t eat a damn thing yesterday. Just a good 500 calories worth of drinks. I felt OK, too. Just a little weak and shaky in the heart, but my fast-beating heart was probably due to having to be woken up too soon. I had Tom wake me up with caffeine coffee since I’d have slept all day otherwise. After I’d had a TV dinner and had been up a few hours, I felt fine.

I still don’t know what I’m gonna do about the eating, though. Do I want to go hungry and stay around the same weight? (I woke up 4 pounds lighter today at 113) or do I want to satisfy my hunger and get God only knows how big?

Tom and I didn’t end up screwing yesterday, but we spent time together, so that was nice. We made an attempt today, but he was too tired, so he’s napping now and I’ll be getting him up in 20 minutes. He has to go into work at 8:00.

Tom’s decided he’s gonna do the roof.

Later…

Jesus fucking Christ! Is that bitch’s day gonna end yet? Doesn’t she have to go to bed early and get up early? I guess she snuck out unnoticed again, cuz I was just distracted from proofreading when I heard yelling. A boy of about 8 years of age was yelling, and I could hear an adult voice, too. Only the freeloaders could be out screaming at the top of their lungs at 8:00 on a chilly night. So I went and spied out of the music room window and sure enough, the voices were coming from there. Somebody was bringing that bitch back, but I couldn’t see any vehicle. Just its headlights as it pulled out. Joebitch, Joebitch, Joebitch! If you can’t get my attention with music, you do it with screaming, huh? Yes bitch, I know you’re there. I know you’re there, OK?

Later…

Nighty night, bitch. Yeah, it’s lights out over there now.

[possessionisamyth]

Hope you don’t mind me replying to this, but I think this interpretation derives from multiple instances collected over the franchise as a whole.

Chris in RE6 was at his worst, but he was also dealing with amnesia. Amnesiacs aren’t going to be level-headed about the horrible information given to them, and Chris was thrusted into the field on top of that. He’s likely dealing with alcohol withdrawal after drowning his body for 6 months and new information is constantly being thrown at him in real time while he’s fending off bullets and monsters. He’s not going to be reasonable, because a Chris with dangerous gaps in his memory isn’t the Chris we see in all the other games. We get that same anger again in Vendetta, but in the novelization of Vendetta, the scene where Chris is talking to Leon goes about with Chris meeting him at his level with understanding. I highly recommend giving it a peek.

These two instances aside, although Chris does rush headfirst into a lot of situations, he still has to act as someone’s partner or a team leader. He’ll put himself at risk first with rushing in, but he tries to give orders for the people around him to act smart and do what they specialize in. He’s reckless with himself hence the anger issues, but he is most often shown to be level-headed with others to the best of his ability.

RE8 character mangling aside, Chis does pick up smoking again. Things are getting tougher, and we see it has an effect on him. I don’t think alcohol would be his go to for the addict angle. I think smoking would be a comfort for him since he’s likely picked it up and put it down during various times of his life. It’s something that I see authors have Chris doing on and off in chreon fic, and nicotine is definitely his bad addiction if any.

Now the difference between Chris and Leon, is that we see Leon drinking during multiple instances of his life. No matter how they change his backstory for why he was late to his job, he is still drunk in a motel the night before and heading to Raccoon City the next day. He’s carrying around and drinking out of JD’s flask while fighting B.O.W.s. He’s drinking again in that that same movie in his hotel room at the end. We see him drinking again in Vendetta, and the bottle is empty. He doesn’t drink in either version of RE4 or in RE6, but things are so horrible in both RE4s that he doesn’t have time. In RE6, there are absolutely gaps which means he could’ve been drinking, but the situation is definitely too intense for him to risk letting himself go.

Leon also does get time off. Whether that’s vacation time or when he’s put on furlough, that’s time for him to take a break. If that time gets interrupted it’s a pain in the ass, but it’s usually only for a few days of hell before he can continue as he was before. Yes, they were working him to the bone when he first started with US Stratcom in 1998, but as Sherry got older and Leon got smarter, his handlers would need to change tactics to keep him. Leon is a valuable asset because compared to the other agents in Infinite Darkness, he really is the only one who can do what he does so well. They can’t risk killing him from overwork, and they can’t risk making him angry enough to start taking little steps of his own in a direction they don’t want. The government needs him under their thumb, but they can’t crush him.

Leon is also working alone most of the time. It’s only in recent years higher ups bother giving him a partner or a team, and each time it’s ended in some kind of disaster. He’s not constantly shoved into the permanent leader role like Chris is. Leon has the ability to lead. The skills are there. He’s pretty good with escort missions. But he’s used to working alone, and the application of those skills can’t get polished if the people who are following him keep getting killed. Working alone so much is probably why he asks for just 2 people to follow him in Degeneration (terrible movie), and still one of them dies.

You could argue the same for Chris, but Chris’ squad deaths on screen are there to show the audience how severe the threat is. He got houndwolf squad out fine. Founder or not, the BSAA wouldn’t keep putting him into leader/captain positions if he didn’t get other soldiers out fine too.

Chris goes to Leon in Vendetta, despite having three organizations to rely on, because Leon has been in the game as long as Chris, and Leon is the one most knowledgeable on the plagas. The closest Chris came to encountering the plagas was in RE5, and that information was minimal compared to all the information he learned about uroboros. Leon would be the most reliable source on plagas since US Stratcom would’ve redacted information in The Kennedy report before passing it onto other agencies. Chris also knows Leon is reliable and trusts him.

Was it unfair? Fuck yeah it was. Leon did need that time off after the whole thing with Benford and losing his entire team. But based on their interaction in RE6, where Chris with amnesia did stand down when Leon asked him to, they are used to going to bat for each other. Even when it’s shitty.

The trend you’re seeing in fanfiction for chreon fics has it’s place. However, I do agree it needs to be more balanced. I would like to see more Leon being the level-headed one and balancing Chris out. I’d also like to see ones where they have more conflict because they’re very stubborn, and nobody’s the perfect romantic partner in every disagreement that happens.

I’m not tossing shade at anyone, but why are most Chris x Leon fics like “Leon is addicted to alcohol and Chris is the level headed one who must make him stop.”

When like he drinks exactly once in canon and Chris was an alcoholic for months in 6. Leon is literally the level headed one in this relationship but it’s like most of the time it’s Chris being the one who has to calm Leon down in fandom? It’s like a reverse of the six gun scene sometimes.

I need to stress I’m not passing shade, I actually like a lot of these fics but I am curious where this came from. Did most of the fans of this ship only watch Vendetta? Cause even then I will always argue Chris was being the unreasonable one. Leon hasn’t had a vacation since ‘98 and chris has three organizations full of people to help him but no go bother leon. That’s another tangent…the point is:

It’s just I feel people sometimes forget Chris is literally an addict too and he seems to have intense anger issues at times. I guess it would be a lot messier to make them both addicts but i would still love a fic that made them both the alcoholic.

[silver-hwaberry]

NINE: feeling safe

Warnings: None

Word count: 4.6K

Taglist: @kiwibaekie @fudgeflyssworld @kodzukein @elk-1998

I wake up to find Wooyoung curled into my back. His arms trapping me. It is warm and safe. I look over to Yeosangs bed and see he is asleep. He is flat on his back, his covers draped over his lower half.

From the window I can tell the sun is on its way to rising so it must be nearly morning. My eyes try to focus on the clock but my bad eyesight is making it hard. I know my morning alarm will be going off soon.

As I shift slightly to adjust my position I feel Wooyoungs arms pull me into him more. I look at him and he looks adorable asleep. Quiet as well. Who know someone so loud and mischievous could be look so angelic simply being asleep!

“Morning.” I hear Yeosang say quietly

“Good morning.” I say back as I look over at him.

“Did you sleep well?” he asks, his morning voice is so deep and crackly

“I did actually.” I answer. “Did I wake you up?”

Just as the words leave my mouth my alarm rings out and I quickly grab it from the floor before it wakes up Wooyoung. I must have knocked my phone off the bed in my sleep as I had left it beside the pillow. Wooyoungs phone is also on the floor.

“You didn’t but I am sure that loud ass alarm would have if I hadn’t woken up naturally.” he chuckles

“Sorry.” I laugh quietly sitting upright. “I can be a heavy sleeper sometimes and have slept through alarms in the past so I always set the volume really loud.”

“Smart idea.” he stretches his legs in bed. “Are you going for a run?”

“I might check out the gym this morning.” I answer

“I will come down with you, show you the ropes. It is always empty at this time in the morning so we should have it to ourselves.” he says

“Thanks, that would be nice.” I reply. “I’ll go get ready.” I add standing up

“I’ll see you in about 15 minutes.” Yeosang smiles 

The gym in the building is amazing. Very modern, has a lot of equipment and space. Yeosang shows me where everything is and how things work. I can’t help but watch him as he works out, which is obviously dangerous when on a treadmill. However it was hard to take my eyes off him. The short sleeves on his tshirt are rolled up and I can see his arm muscles on full display. They are… impressive!

Afterwards we head back up to the apartment and I go for a shower. The kitchen is empty when I go in so I start the coffee machine so there is fresh coffee for the guys when they wake up. I get to work on making my usual tea and toast. I sit down at the island just as Yeosang walks in. He is freshly showered as well and wearing sweats.

“I hope you don’t mind me staying in your room last night. Wooyoung said it would be ok.” I say taking a drink of my tea

“Not at all. You both were fast asleep when I got home. You looked so cute together that I couldn’t help take a photo.” he replies pulling his phone out

“Oh my god!” I gasp as he shows it to me

“You were both adorable. But I shall deny I called Wooyoung adorable if anyone ever asks me.” he says as I laugh

“Your secret is safe with me.” I wink at him as he pours a mug of coffee

“I admit I was a little bit jealous too.” he says quietly

“Jealous of what?” I ask putting my mug on the counter

“Wooyoung getting to be so close to you. To.. to cuddle with you.” he answers

“You know you can cuddle me whenever you want.” I say to him. “I know you are more reserved about these things than some of the others but if you ever want to you can tell me and we’ll go somewhere quiet if we can.”

“It is quiet the now.” he says, looking at the floor

I take the opportunity and move off the bar stool. I make my way over to him as he looks up slightly and stop in front of him. I can see he is unsure and he won’t make the first move so I reach to hold his hand. I don’t want to rush him.

“Is this ok?” I ask him

He nods making brief eye contact with me. I can see how shy he is which is why I am taking it slowly with him. He isn’t like Wooyoung or San who love cuddling and openly love physical contact.

I smile as his other hand takes mine. A few minutes of comfortable silence passes as his fingers squeeze mine and he takes a step forwards, putting one arm around me and then the other a few seconds later, my own arms following suit. Holding him loosely for now. I give him time to get used to it before I melt into him, my arms wrapping around his waist properly. 

“You give nice cuddles.” I smile.

“I am sure San and Wooyoung are better than me.” He mutters.

“Your cuddles are just as nice anyone else’s. I feel safe in your arms.” I say

“I make you feel safe?” He asks, his voice in disbelief 

“You do.” I reply looking after him

He has a shy smile on his face and I take the opportunity to peck his cheek before I nuzzle my head back into his neck again. His arms hold me firmer at this action. It is so quiet and we enjoy the quiet time we have together before the others get up.

“You are very cuddly.” He says, his hands gently moving up and down my back

“I am always up for cuddles. So always tell me when you want some.” I say.

“I will.” He replies

We stay cuddled together for a little while. When we hear footsteps on the stairs he pulls away but places a kiss on my forehead before letting go.

“Thank you.” He says smiling shyly 

“Anytime.” I reply kissing his cheek before going back over to where I had been sitting.

“I am so tired!!” San whines as he walks into the kitchen

He looks it too. His face is pale, eyes heavy and his blond hair is still messy from bed. Immediately he latches onto me, cuddling me from behind as I drink my tea. My free arm rests on top of his as his face buries into my neck.

“Well you were up playing games most of the night with Yunho!” Yeosang says

“I know, I know.” San mumbles

I can feel the heat from his body against my back.

“How long have you been up?” He asks me

“About an hour. Went down to the gym with Yeosang and just had a shower.” I answer moving my other hand up to rub his head

“I don’t know how you manage to wake up so early and look so cute.” He says

“You should see me when I first wake up before I’ve even crawled out of bed. I am like something from a horror movie!” I laugh

“I don’t believe that!” he laughs kissing my cheek

I don’t have any work scheduled with the guys today as they have an all day performance shoot to do, so today is a free day. Wooyoung had already asked me the night before if I could go with them. After assuring me I wouldn’t be in the way, that there would be a lot of time to hang out between shooting and that he wants me to be there to watch their first performance shoot of the new song. It was hard to say no to that. I had watched a lot of rehearsals and I loved them but seeing it performed with the full hair, make up and outfits was going to be so good. 

I knew it was going to be hectic too, full staff there, plus behind the scenes cameras and the log video too. So I would need to keep my distance from them and be mindful of my surroundings too but Wooyoung insisted they do get private time between shoots. Time there is no cameras or staff around. ‘Time for cuddles’ he had said.

When we are ready to leave I am in the car with San, Yeosang, Mingi and Jongho. The journey to the studio was going to be long as it was far away from the apartment. So most of them take the time to get some sleep. 

“Dinner was really nice last night.” Jongho says to me

“I am glad you all enjoyed it.” I smile

“We don’t get home cooked food often. Wooyoung usually cooks for us but after long hours in the studio he is as tired as we are so we usually order food.” He says

“Well that will be changing. I will make sure you all have home cooked meals on a regular basis.” I reply

“It’s a lot of work feeding so many people. Do you even have the time to do that?” He asks

“Absolutely. I finish a lot earlier than you guys plus I am used to cooking for a lot of people. I was the dorm chef back in college.” I say

“How did you get assigned that role?” He asks smiling at me

“I was the only person in the dorm who could cook more than ramen and rice. After the first week I was cooking for everyone and it just sort of happened. I enjoyed it though.” I laugh. “Last night was the first time in a long while that I cooked like that. It felt nice to do it again.”

“Just know that none of us are expecting you to do it.” He says

“I know, that is why I don’t mind.” I say

I always knew doing performance shoots were hard but I had no idea exactly HOW hard until I watched the guys. It was non stop, take after take after take. They were exhausted between each one but kept going. It took everything in me not to hug them or go over to check on them. 

I literally sat on my hands to stop myself from going to them. The first time we had alone time in a private waiting area with no cameras and no staff around was for lunch. I stay in the corner as I didn’t really know what to do, or who to go to first.

Yunho takes my hand and pulls me over to one of the sofas. He sits down and has me sit sideways on his lap. His arms wrap around my waist and pull me into his body.

“I don’t want to mess up your hair or make up.” I say to him, sitting upright

“We are changing after lunch anyway. New outfits and new hair so don’t worry about that.” He says, his big eyes looking up at me. “Can you just hug me? Please?”

I can see something is different in his eyes. They arent as playful as they usually are. He looks tired, which is something I’ve never seen in him before. I nod and lean back against him as his head rests on me. I can’t even imagine how tiring it is doing these shoots. The rest of them all look tired as well. 

“What did you think of the shooting so far?” San asks me

“It’s really good. Very different from the rehearsals. Seeing it put together with the styling and outfits too.” I answer

“Wait until you see the next outfits. Shiny black leather!” Wooyoung grins.

OK, that could end me. I thought they looked hot in the white outfits. Before I could reply Myeonjin comes in with Ilsung, another of the managers with boxes of food. I quickly slide off Yunhos lap and onto the space beside him before Ilsung sees us.

“Definitely no seafood or fish in these?” Jongho asks helping them with the boxes

“Yes, I told them of the allergy.” Myeonjin nods, looking towards me.

“Thank you.” I say

“It is not a problem Luna.” he replies “You guys have an hour to eat, rest and do whatever then it’s back to the stylist rooms for the next part.”

As soon as the 2 managers leave the room the guys start to open the boxes and I feel Yunho pull me back onto his lap again once the door has closed.

“Are you ok?” I ask quietly

“Just tired.” he replies and I can see it in his eyes that he is

“You should eat, then rest.” I say. “I will stay here with you.”

“Thank you.” he says looking at me

“No thanks needed.” I smile at him stroking the side of his face

Mingi passes the two of us plates of food. He smiles down at me and affectionately touches the top of my head before going back over to the table of food. I can’t help but notice how buff he looks in his outfit. I knew he had muscles, you can’t be around any of them and not notice that they work out but in his white fitted top Mingis muscles were very prominent. More than I realised. I feel a little bad for eyeing up Mingi while Yunho is cuddling me.

“Black shiny leather outfits huh? Sounds sexy.” I say quietly to Yunho who laughs lightly. 

I smile as I have managed to make him laugh a little bit. He picks up a piece of chicken from his plate and feeds it to me.

“Is that you being dirty minded, little one?” He asks

“Am I not allowed to perv over my boyfriend?” I smirk

“Your boyfriend eh?” He replies with a grin on his face

“Not boyfriend.” I say shaking my head at him causing his grin to drop, “My hot and very sexy boyfriend.” and his grin returns instantly

“Then you are my beautiful and irresistible girlfriend.” He counters kissing my cheek.

“Damn right I am.” I giggle as I pick up a slice of pizza from my plate.

“Tonight you better prepare yourself for when we get home.” He says to me

“For what?” I ask raising an eyebrow at him.

“Because I am going to take you to my bedroom and give you so many kisses and cuddles.” He simply replies before taking a bite of the pizza slice in my hand.

I feign shock at him eating a bit of my pizza causing him to cover his mouth as he laughs. He puts an arm around my shoulders and I cuddle into his side as we continue to eat. I can tell for the time being he is private when it comes to kissing and I respect that.

“I have an appointment with the doctors later on.” I say to him

“Are you unwell?” He asks me, moving to look at me

“No, I am fine. Seonghwa told me that you all had sexual health tests done and I want to do one too. So that you know I am clear.” I reply

“You don’t have to.” He says

“I want to. I want you all to have reassurance.” I smile. “Anyway my appointment is at 4.30pm, I know you will be here until at least 5pm.”

“I will look after you tonight. Your arm will be tender from the blood test.” He says

“I will be fine. Just give me lots of cuddles and kisses.” I smile at him

“How does cuddles, kisses and a movie night in my room sound?” He asks. “Unless you have plans with your friends or the others.”

“I don’t. Movie night with you sounds like heaven.” I answer 

“It’s a date.” he says linking his fingers with mine

Yunho smiles at me before leaning forward to kiss me on the lips fleetingly. We spend the rest of their break eating and talking to the others.

The hour seemed to go quickly as Myeonjin and Ilsung came back into the room to tell them it was time to get changed. They all start to get up and say they will see me back on the set once they are ready but Yunho lingers behind until it is just the two of us.

“If I don’t manage to speak to you before you leave for the doctors, please take care getting there and message me too. Just so I know you are safe.” He says moving closer to me

“I will.” I nod as his arms wrap around my shoulders. “I will see you at home.”

“Thank you for coming with us today. I know it is your day off but having you here.. it meant a lot to all of us.” He says

Before I can respond he kisses me. It is similar to the one he gave me last night, building to something more. That is until we hear someone clear their throat behind us. Yunho jumps back and turns around to see Mingi at the door.

“Sorry to disturb you both. Hongjoong was asking where you are Yunho.” He says. “I’ll tell him you are at the bathroom, give you two a few more minutes together.”

“Thanks Mingi, I’ll be along in a minute or two.” Yunho says. “Sorry, we are always getting interrupted when we kiss.” he adds once Mingi has left

“Tonight you will have my undivided attention. No interruptions, just us.” I smile as he leans down to kiss me again

“Sounds good.” He replies 

“You better go before Hongjoong sends another search party for you.” I say, worried he is going to get into trouble

“One more hug.” He says

His arms move to surround my waist, he straightens up causing my feet to lift off the ground and a small giggle to leave me. My arms tighten around his neck.

“I better go.” He groans putting me back on the ground. “See you tonight little one.”

One more kiss is placed on my lips before he leaves the room. I am looking forward to spending time with him tonight.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ─── 

When I arrive home from the doctors appointment it is later than I was expecting. I didn’t realise sexual health tests were so indepth at my new doctors clinic, so it took a lot longer than I thought. It was already 7.30pm and I knew the guys were already home.

I walk into the lounge to see Wooyoung and San playing a game on the ps5 while Jongho and Seonghwa are watching them. As I walk behind the sofa towards my room I stop to kiss Seonghwas cheek from behind.

“I didn’t hear you come in.” He says turning his head

“Too engrossed in the epic football match?” I ask nodding towards the TV

“It is riveting stuff!” He laughs. 

“Who’s team is winning?” I ask

“Who do you think?” He replies as Wooyoung begins cheering and pointing in Sans face.

“How was your appointment?” He asks quietly

“It was OK. I’ll get my results in a few days.” I answer. “I am going to take these contact lenses out, they have been bothering me for the last hour.”

“Yunho went for a shower when we got home, he should be finished by now.” He says

I wonder if Yunho told the others our plans, he must have at least told Seonghwa for him to tell me where Yunho is without me asking. Not that I mind, my head is very slowly getting used to our unusual set up. I go into my room to get changed, take out my irritating contact lenses and wash my face. When I go back to the lounge Seonghwa isn’t there anymore but the other 3 are still playing their game.

“When did you get home?” San asks as he sees me

“About 20 minutes ago.” I answer

He hands his controller to Jongho and jumps off the sofa to hug me.

“Come here for a minute. I got you something on the way home.” He says

He takes my hand and I let him lead me into the kitchen. Mingi is at the stove cooking while Yeosang is chopping vegetables on the island counter. San lets go of my hand and goes over to one of the cupboards.

“Hey Luna.” Mingi smiles as he sees me

“Are you hungry?” Yeosang asks

“I already ate on the way home.” I say 

“There will be plenty leftover if you want anything later.” Mingi says as he stirs whatever is in the pot

“Here.” San says holding up a sachet of red ginseng

“Oh no.” I whine looking at it and leaning backwards 

“I know it tastes horrible but it is a shot of energy you need after your blood test.” He says opening it for me.

“Blood test?” Mingi asks turning around 

“Are you ok?” Yeosang asks

“I am fine. I had my sexual health check done today.” I say to them. “And I shamelessly ate an entire box of cookies on the walk home so I have had a boost of sugar!” I add to San

“Please sunshine. Just take the disgusting little sachet.” He says looking at me with his big eyes, a little pout appearing on his lips

“This is bribery!” I say taking the sachet from him and swallowing the contents

It is truly disgusting. Yeosang laughs as he sees my scrunched up face.

“You owe me big time for making me take that.” I say to San as Yeosang hands me a bottle of water

“You will thank me later.” he smirks

“Yeah yeah.” I laugh as he hugs me. “I will see you guys later.”

I make my way up the stairs to the 2nd floor and knock on Yunhos door. I hear him say to come in before opening the door. He is wearing his pjs, his hair is still damp from the shower.

“Luna, you are home!” He smiles 

I close the door and quickly make my way over to him, literally throwing my arms around him and inhale deeply. He smells so good, like coconuts. I feel instant comfort being in his arms.

“How was your appointment?” Yunho asks hugging me gently

“The blood test was a bit sore. I have tiny veins so it is always difficult to get blood out of me. The nurse was not gentle with me today.” I pout slightly

“Let me see your arm.” He says inspecting my inner elbow where the blood was taken. “Oh, it looks so sore and bruised!”

The inside of my arm is already bruising a bit, which is normal for me. I bruise like a peach. Yunho leads me over to his bed, making me sit down.

“I bruise easily. I would be more concerned if I didn’t get a bruise.” I say to him as he squats in front of me. “How was the rest of the shoot?”

“It was good. The final video should be really good. Especially with the transition between the outfits.” He replies

“I can’t wait to see it.” I smile as I pull him towards me.

I place my lips on his. I have been craving this all day. It is what got me through the rest of the day. Knowing I was coming home to him. He kisses me back, his hands moving around my waist, pulling me closer to the edge of the bed and towards his body as he moves onto his knees. I feel his hands move to my thighs, squeezing them before pulling my legs around his waist. He deepens the kiss and this time there are no interruptions. 

“Finally.” He chuckles when our lips eventually part

“No interruptions this time.” I laugh

“Have you ate yet?” He asks me as he stands up

“I did, I got some vegetarian tteokbokki at a nearby food place on my way.” I answer moving back onto the bed until I am in the middle of it since Yunho had pulled me to the very edge of it

“You found a vegetarian place here?” He asks, slightly surprised

“Being allergic to shellfish I know most of the vegetarian and vegan places in Seoul. The one nearby is my favourite but didn’t get to visit it often before I moved in here.” I say

“I got us some snacks and drinks for our movie night and if you want some cooked food I will go make some for you.” He says

“I am full but I always have room for snacks.” I smile

Once we have agreed on a movie to watch we settle down in his bed. His arms hold me close to him as he situates me between his legs, my back resting against his chest. 

“You are so small.” he smiles down at me. “My little one.”

I definitely feel like a ‘little one’ cuddled into him like this, his long arms easily surrounding my body. He is gentle with my tender arm.

As the movie starts I let out a long yawn and fully relax back into Yunhos body. After a while I feel myself getting sleepy. My head bobbing up and down as I drift off then snap back awake.

“You are tired.” Yunho says in my ear

“No I am fine.” I say blinking furiously to wake up

“Come on, let’s get you to your bed.” He whispers, his hand resting on my stomach

“Can I stay here tonight?” I ask twisting my head to look up at him

“Of course you can.” He says leaning down to kiss me. “We can finish the movie tomorrow night.”

He moves us so we are lying now. I place my glasses beside his bed and cuddle into him. Being in such close proximity to him is giving me a warm feeling inside my tummy.

I don’t even remember falling asleep but I awake to the darkened room and the overwhelming need for the toilet. I slip out of Yunhos arms and go into the hallway. 

The entire apartment is silent and it’s slightly eerie. I go to the bathroom as quickly as I can and back to Yunhos bedroom. I jump a little as I see him sitting upright.

“Luna?” He says looking bleary-eyed and confused. “Where did you go?”

“I was just at the toilet.” I reply crawling back into the bed. “Go back to sleep.” I add kissing his puffy cheeks

“I thought you’d left.” He mumbles

“You are stuck with me until the morning at least.” I giggle

“You say that like it is a bad thing.” he says

“There are people who would say my snoring is a bad thing.” I say cuddling into him

“You call those cute little grunts you were making snoring?” he laughs “Wait until you hear Mingi, now THAT is what you call snoring!”

“I am sure I could out-snore him.” I say. “Go back to sleep, you guys have a long day ahead.”

Today they have their showcase. The first time in 2 years they will perform in front of Atiny. They have worked hard towards this and the day will be very long for all of us. Especially with the album being released tomorrow. The next couple of weeks were going to be incredibly busy for them. I feel his lips kiss my forehead and within minutes he is back to sleep again, his arms securely around me. 

For the first time in a long while I feel safe. With Yunho and with them all. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ─── 

[gizkasparadise]

What are your favorite love stories from dramas? Chinese or Korean. The OTPs that slayed you?

yay! i love love!! SPOILERS below!

--

li zi wei / huang yu xuan, someday or one day. taiwanese drama.

boy meets girl. boy dies. girl time travels about 20 years into the past and meets boy's doppelganger, except he's older than he should be in 1998. turns out boy is ALSO a time traveler, and he waited years to be reunited with the girl in her original timeline after meeting her in 1998 😭. boy still dies. girl goes to correct the timeline again. in order for the boy and the girl's friends to survive, they have to erase the timeline where they meet, and all their memories together, and they choose to do so. it's implied the boy will still meet the girl someday, one day 😭😭😭. a follow up movie (with the same cast!) is going to be released soon, but the original drama is perfect on its own and their story hits all the best bittersweet notes.

also their theme song kills me/watch for a highlight reel:

--

dongfang qingcang and xiao lanhua, love between fairy and devil. chinese drama

this story is like someone took all my favorite fanfics from when i was 14 and injected it straight into my veins!! xiao lanhua is an unimportant orchid fairy who accidentally frees the leader of the moon tribe (the fairies' #1 enemy), certified big bad and girlboss dongfang qingcang, who has sealed away his emotions for a power boost. over time, the two of them grow closer and understand one another better and if you're someone who likes "i'll burn the world down for 1 person" with notes of devil/jesus or hades/persephone this is 100% absolutely your ship.

like, the way we all went absolutely feral during this scene:

--

do hyun soo/cha ji won, flower of evil. korean drama

idek where to begin with these two, but ugh. ugh!! ugh!!!! the way they killed me over 16 episodes! definitely an unconventional couple, do hyun soo is a suspected serial killer who's been on the run for over 15 years, and cha ji won is his wife and also a detective recently assigned to hunt him down. their story is just such a raw and lovely look at trauma's effects on people and they're so ride or die for one another and their daughter. it's wonderful to see a love story about a long-term couple, as well.

--

yu sifeng/chu xuanji, love and redemption. chinese drama

THE ship for you if you like inverted gender dynamics, masochism tangos, and 10 lifetimes' worth of pining and star-crossed lovers. thousands of years ago, there was a god of war who was punished to live 10 lifetimes on earth so she could unlearn her hatred at heaven. chu xuanji is her 10th and final mortal incarnation, a girl who can't understand the 6 senses and lives with her father's martial arts sect, although she can't practice martial arts or cultivation herself. sifeng is a member of a rival sect, a sect that forbids love, marriage, or children from its members. it's revealed that sifeng has loved and followed xuanji through 9 previous lifetimes that all ended violently for him, and this is their last chance to break the cycle/get their happily ever after /;3;/

what i love most about this one is that it flips the script on gender dynamics-- sifeng is a martyr for love and xuanji is the overpowered one who struggles to understand her feelings. here's one of my favorite scenes where xuanji reveals her hidden powers to save sifeng from being whipped to death

--

sung deok sun/choi taek, reply 1988. korean drama.

the other love stories on this list are all fantasy-based or have extraordinary circumstances, so i figured for this last one i would pick a love story that's just so wonderfully normal and grounded. a lot of people got second-lead syndrome from this series, but i am empathetically not one of them!!

deok sun and taek are childhood friends and neighbors who grew up together. it's evident early on in the series that taek loves deok sun, and he's always honest about his feelings, but it takes deok sun a little longer to realize she's in love with taek. what i love about this ship is that it's really quiet-- we see them fall in love with small moments and through their actions/behaviors vs. large, grand confessions (although we get a great confessional moment near the end of the drama too!!). there's also such a great balance between birds of a feather and being complimentary toward one another.

some other favorites:

lan tian ye/su can can, wait my youth (chinese drama)

dan oh/haru, extraordinary you (korean drama)

lee jung in/yoo ji ho, one spring night (korean drama)

yoon sae boem/jung yi hyun, happiness (korean drama)

ha moon so/lee kang do, just between lovers (korean drama)

sung shi won/yoon yoon jae, reply 1997 (korean drama)

kang dong gu/han yoon nah ft. sol, welcome to waikiki (korean drama)

[ay0nha]

maybe a head cannon about dating 98/99 damon ?? :-)

Ok. Ive thought about this a lot. So let me bullet this out because it’s a little all over the place. This is obviously taking inspiration from his current partner and how they met/how they are, but I think it really works for damon (I mean obviously because they’re still together) BUT with that being said...here you are

Right off the bat, I think he was an absolute punk. Annoying af and needs to be knocked down a few pegs (like how his daughter bullies him on Instagram…esp after all his fame/peak fame/etc needs a taste of reality aka build from the ground up again)

So imagine this he meets you who isn’t a huge fan of blur/doesn’t really know blur/or hell let’s say you know blur, but you’re like okayyy and...like you’re just a celebrity, calm down...or like yeah I’m a fan, but it’s not that deep/only likes the popular songs

He isn’t necessarily bothered by it, but it’s the first time he’s been met with such...idk...passivity? He isn’t a jerk about it, but he’s like how can this not have some sort of pull and you’re like idk what to tell you it just doesn’t, you’re cute I’m not blind, but eh

He’s a total type where he doesn’t stop until he gets what he wants even if that pisses off a few people along the way (I mean look at his track record, love his chaoticness)

But keep in mind, this is a transition period for him so he’s probably a little soul searchy when you find him so you’re like mmmm yeah alright but let’s set some ground rules first (we love someone with boundaries)

I think it would be the type of deal where because Damon was constantly under watch of the public eye etc etc he felt like he had to always be On. and he slowly realizes that’s what’s making you push him away and it’s not the thrill of the chase/game  and once he realizes this you two are a match made in HEAVEN

I could see it being kind of a surprise when you’re like the world doesn’t stop just because we’re seeing each other and he’s like all pouty about it and having the exclusive talk (as if you don’t feel the exact same way)

But fast forward and you two are together and let me tell you right now he’s got it down bad.

Then timing wise from 1998-2000 Damon was recording for Gorillaz in Jamaica so imagine after all this he’s like it’s me and you agaisnt the world and it’s such a nice getaway of sorts to be completely remote and completely with each other 

He takes this time (despite working on solo work) to just give you all of his attention and really get to know the ins and outs of you away from everything and you do the exact same

and while you’re there I can just imagine the sun you’re soaking up and like the WARM cuddles on the beach with a mix of sunscreen, sweat, and just purse enjoyment of each other

when you end up having a deep conversation about your future, dreams and  fears while listening to the ocean’s wave and drinking some wine, the warm soft pink color illuminating your face makes damon realize he is in completely and utterly in love with you and this is his end game

and do not get me started on this boy’s love language

cuddles cuddles cuddles cuddles cuddles cuddles cuddles cuddles cuddles! he wants cuddles! He is on you ALL the time, hands hands hands smush smush smushed against you

He would express himself through soft touches and small acts like, kissing your forehead, memorizing how you like your coffee/eggs/laundry folded so he makes it just right, soft hand squeezes, and getting you a postcard from wherever he’s at to know that no matter what you’re on his mind

Then I think because he hold you in such high regard his world (even though he’s got SO much going on ALL the time) revolves around you even when he’s away (on tour/interviews/studio/etc)

For example let’s say he’s on the other side of the world but you just found, my guy said fuck the timezone and is calling NON-stop until it is resolved and he knows that your needs are being met

I could also see him being inspired by you/many inspirations for future regarding how to approach music/appreciate music/different things and life and introducing him/reintroducing him to things he now loves and helping him figure out how to completely embrace the journey he’s about to embark on

Some fluffy stuff - he  l o v e s  it when you blush or give him some kinda reaction and loves to tease you about it cause well we all know he’s playful

Him being enchanted by the simplest little things you do like almost every single thing you do from how to squeeze the toothpaste bottle

aka he finds doing just the simple things in life with you his favorite. From grocery shopping, walks around the neighborhood, even getting ready for bed. They make him realize just how much he loves you.  

Him nervous to share the solo stuff/talking about how he’s feeling about blur at the time, but once he realizes he has your full support he does not stop showing you samples/asking your opinion/looking for your input

Imagine getting a little place together, him surprising you with it knowing you wouldn’t want anything too lavish but appreciative of the privacy he looked for

being there through thick and thin (i think we all know what this means) and somehow coming out of it virtually unscathed and appreciative of being by each others sides through it because without your other half it would not have panned out the way it had

I was going to say something on pet names, but I can’t put my finger on what I really think so i’m curious to what others think

Damon loves when you play with his hair. Either it being when you lay together in bed or sitting on his sofa/esp when he’s working and you kind of just walk by and twirl it a bit or scratch right at the nape of his neck or playfully tug a strand when he’s been annoying. all in all though It can calm him down like nothing else.

And on rainy days he would prefer to stay in. Record player on low, windows open to hear the soft patter of the rain fall, and a new book. Especially if it was a suggestion from you.

Having an old-fashioned love between you both. Phones aren't needed to say I love you, you both disliking weird confusing trends, handwriting letters and notes instead of texting an abbreviated message,etc etc

I can also see him giving you non typical gifts but are so catered to you it’s like how did you even think of that

I cannot say it enough. You were made for him and he made sure appreciate that everyday and vice versa.

Idk if this is what you were looking for and it’s a bit long winded but here ya go! 

[kaleidoscope77]

Amazing (NaLu One-shot)

Summary: Natsu and Lucy's monthly routine is interrupted by a seemingly harmless question.

Rated: T

Words: 1998

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

"Lucy?" Natsu scanned the room for his blonde teammate, a little hint of worry on his face. 

Mira had told him about how she came into the guildhall incredibly grumpy that morning, and she's been cooped up in her apartment for the rest of the day. 

The girls advised him to give her space for a bit, and while Happy decided to heed their warnings and lay low, Natsu knew good and well what was going on. 

"I'm in the kitchen!" The sound of Lucy's voice was enough to prove that his suspicions were correct, she sounded so out of it right now. 

Natsu poked his head into the kitchen, and gave a sad smile at the sight of Lucy hunched over on the counter. "You okay?"

"Do I look okay?" Lucy grumbled, "Where have you been?"

"We just got back from a job yesterday," Natsu rolled his eyes, "I was sleepin'."

"...Well, I need you. Now."

"Hm… It's early."

"I know it's early. Just be glad it's not while we were on the job. Now c'mon," Lucy held her arms up, Natsu quickly getting the hint and scooping her up to carry her.

"Bed or couch?" 

"Bed, please."

Just as she requested, Natsu brought her to the comfort of her bed and gave her a moment to get situated amongst the pillows before he joined her in laying down. 

The two wrestled with the comforter for a bit before ultimately deciding to go without it, and as patience began to run thin, Lucy pulled Natsu closer by his scarf, bringing his body flush against hers. 

"You know what to do," She mumbled, earning a quiet growl in response. 

"Yeah, I know," Natsu didn't like being rushed, but he knew she had good reason to be impatient. He wrapped his arms around her abdomen and warmed up his hands, Lucy immediately sighing in pure bliss from the feeling. 

"Ah, yes…" She snuggled back into him, leaving no space between their bodies, "I've been waiting… all day for this."

Natsu frowned, had he known she was in pain, he would've came over sooner. "Sorry."

"Don't be. Like you said, it came early this month. Hit me like a ton of bricks, though."

"Then you should get something to warm your belly up when I'm not around…"

"I actually do have a heating pad," Lucy turned around to face him, making sure his hands didn't lose their place over the source of her pain, "But your hands are so much better."

Natsu couldn't deny that he really liked hearing her prefer his magic over something else, but a part of him still felt bad. He didn't mind doing this every month, it was the only time Lucy allowed him to not only be in her bed, but to also be this close to her while doing so. 

It's nice to feel like she depends on him, and to be able to do something for her that no one else can. And their alone time during these days are always nice, sometimes she'll fall asleep in his arms, and other times they'll pass the time by just talking about any and everything. 

But, he still hated that she had to be in pain for them to get this… close.

"Thanks for always doing this for me, Natsu," Lucy smiled. He couldn't help but smile back at her.

"'S not like I got something better to do."

"Mhm," She wrapped her arms around his middle, now each of them holding the other tightly, "You're the best. I don't know what I'd do without you."

"Me too."

"Really?"

"Yeah…"

"Aw, that's sweet," Lucy laid her head against Natsu's chest, closed her eyes and took in the peaceful moment. It was amazing to think about how she'd been in so much agony this morning, only for him to show up and relieve so much of the pain in seconds. She considers herself quite fortunate to be close with a fire mage like this. "...Do you think you could do this for me forever?"

"Of course," Natsu couldn't see how that could even be a question. He'll always be here for her when she needs him.

"You sure? Forever is a long time…"

"Yeah, it's not like it's hard to lay here with my hand on your stomach."

Lucy let out a quiet giggle, "That's not just it, though. Like, would you do it even in the distant future? When we're older?"

"...I don't see why not."

"Okay, and even when we go off and get married?"

"Uh, obviously… C'mon, I thought you were smarter than this, Luce."

"What? Don't start with that," She rolled her eyes, "Do you actually think our future spouses would be okay with us cuddling once month?"

Natsu stared at her, and when she didn't get a response, Lucy pulled away from his embrace to look into his eyes. He seemed genuinely confused, like there was something he was silently trying to wrap his head around. 

"...Lucy."

"Yeah? You're thinking pretty hard there-"

"Why wouldn't it be okay for us to cuddle once a month?"

"Oh, c'mon. You know why," Lucy's face began to flush. It was obvious that these moments were pretty intimate, she'd only been ignoring it because her cramps are too ruthless for her to be worrying about that sort of thing. 

But for him to be so confused, it was like he hadn't even noticed how close they are, and how close they've been since he started being her personal heating pad not too long after they met. Lucy assumed being able to lay with him like this was great progress in the direction she wished to go with him, but perhaps it's not reciprocated.

"Actually, nevermind. Just forget I asked-"

"Wait, I don't get why you think I'll stop doing this for you when we're married…"

"When we're-" Lucy shook her head, choosing to ignore his choice of words and the way they sounded, "Look, my future husband may not like you in my bed, holding me like this."

"...Yes I would, though? And you just asked me to do this for you forever, why would that change when you're my wife?"

It took a full minute for Lucy to process what he just said, and then another minute for her to replay it over and over in her head to make sure he really just said that. 

Her face was bright red, burning nearly as hot as his hands on her stomach. "N-Natsu…" She willed herself not to stutter, but it was impossible with the way he looked at her. 

"Yeah?"

"I didn't mean we'd be married to each other..!"

"What? Why?" Natsu's face broke out into a pout, and it was just the cutest thing. 

Now, Lucy's heart felt like it'd just explode. "Oh my gosh! You seriously- I- I don't even-" She was at a lost, she'd been harboring these feelings for so long, just for him to blatantly admit something like that. "You… you'd wanna marry me?"

"Uh, duh?" This whole conversation had Natsu so confused, "We're basically already married anyway."

"W-what!? No we are not..!"

"We're not..?"

"No!"

"Oh…" Now the sadness on his face doubled, causing Lucy's heart to get tight.

"But…" She took in a deep breath. If he could say it so casually, she need to be upfront with him too, "I mean… I'm not opposed to being l-like… that with you…"

"Oh, so you're cool with it?"

"...Yeah, I'm c-cool with it."

"Cool. Now let's get married so you won't have to ask stupid questions like that!"

"Huh!?" Lucy squeaked when he began to sit up, stopping him before he could start carrying her, "Wait, lay back down!"

"Oh, right," He almost forgot about her current predicament, laying right back down and warming up his hands to offer her comfort. "We'll do it once you're done."

"Oh my gosh…" Lucy still wasn't convinced that this was real life right now, and that he was actually serious about this, "...We can't just go off and get married, Natsu."

"Huh? Says who?" Now he seemed to assume there was something coming in between them, the angry look on his face nearly making Lucy laugh.

"We aren't even dating yet…"

"...So?"

"So, we can't just get married when you haven't even… asked me on a date yet…" Lucy played with the loose ends of her hair, now refusing to look him in his eyes. It was easier to say these things knowing that he wants something like this, but it's still incredibly embarrassing. 

"Oh."

"Y-yeah…"

The room fell back into silence, and Lucy let out an awkward cough when she realized he wasn't going to say anything more on the subject. "Uh, Natsu?"

"Hm?"

"...We can't get married before we start dating…"

"Yeah, I heard ya."

"...So, ask me on a date, silly!"

"Oh," Natsu had just assumed that was a rejection, he didn't know he could just ask like that, "Okay, uh, wanna go on a date?"

"I do!" As Lucy engulfed him in a big hug, Natsu's own heart began to flutter. She could be pretty confusing at times, but he was glad to have her right here. 

"We can get married now, right?"

"Ugh," Lucy tightened the hug so she could hide her flushed face, "I don't know if you're doing this on purpose…"

He wasn't, but if it got her to react like this, he'd be sure to keep it up. "You're so weird."

"Me? You literally just assumed we'd get married! Imagine if I didn't feel the same…"

Natsu growled, he did not like imagining that. Besides, it was pretty obvious to him at this point, it's not like Lucy just let's anyone cuddle with her. 

"And to answer your question- we can't get married now, that commitment takes time to think about."

"Eh? But I've had plenty of time…"

"...You've been thinking about it for that long?" Lucy's eyes sparkled, but she quickly brought herself back to reality, "I mean, no. That's something we'd need to discuss together in due time."

Still, Natsu couldn't understand why she'd want to wait so long, but if all she wants is time, he was willing to be patient. "Alright."

"Mhm. Leave it to you to wanna get married before we've even…"

"Hm? 'Before we've even' what?"

"...N-no, nevermind."

"C'mon, Lucy, I wanna know what else I gotta do."

"We, uh, we haven't had our first kiss…" 

At the same time, they leaned back to gouge the other's expression, their eyes darting to each other's lips. 

Lucy stifled an awkward laugh as she saw the look on Natsu's face, "Oh my gosh, are you blushing?"

He huffed, she was acting like her face isn't bright red right now. Before Lucy could convince herself that she shouldn't have said that, Natsu cupped her cheek and inched closer, her face heating up with each second. 

Lucy knew he'd go for it as soon as she said that, and she fought the urge to cowar away when his lips came down to meet hers. 

The kiss was quick and clumsy, but it had Natsu grinning against her lips and puffing out his chest in pride. 

Lucy let herself giggle once they separated, she was overcome with giddiness and excitement. In her head, things would've been more romantic than an awkward confession in her bed while she's battling period cramps, but that doesn't matter right now. 

"Can we kiss again?" Natsu mumbled, already leaning towards her lips.

Lucy answered by closing in the space between them, crashing her lips onto his and deepening the kiss. 

Her hands ran along his body, feeling him up and down and enjoying every second before they had to separate for air. 

"...Amazing," Lucy mumbled, though it wasn't like she had anything to base the kiss on. 

Natsu was in the same boat, and he was actually more concerned about kissing her some more. "Yeah… Amazing."

[fandomlovingfreak]

Glacial Passion (5/?)

Regulus Black/Reader

Rating: SFW, T+

Trigger Warning: Arranged Marriage

Word Count: 1998

MasterList Link I AO3 Link I Wattpad Link

Summary: Glacial, cold, icy… all words that described Regulus Black’s grey eyes. Was there truly no emotion behind those eyes, or did a caring man exist beneath? Could she defrost those glacial eyes?

Disclaimer: Regulus Black (Walburga Black, Orion Black, and Sirius Black) is a character from Harry Potter by J.K. Rowling. Reader or y/n is not owned by Rowling. This work has not been created for profit or financial compensation, and is a transformative fair use work in accordance with Section 107 of the United States Copyright Act.

Notes: My only note is that the characters in this fanfiction do some questionable things. This does not at all reflect my personal morals or anything I would do (and certainly hope you would not do). Please don’t read this story if you can’t separate fiction from reality. Fanfiction is for entertainment and should not be something that teaches you to be or act a certain way. Thanks!

Enjoy

***

Regulus is met with silence when (y/n) climbs into their bed after the fight and more silence when she doesn't acknowledge him in the morning, dressing silently before sitting on the balcony with her book.

He glances out of the glass door, watching her devour the words on the worn book. Sighing loudly, he looks back towards the parchment on the desk. He didn't exactly know what to say to Sirius. He knew he wanted his older brother to know about the developments his life had taken in the past month, but how do you complain without sounding entirely pathetic? Especially when your complaining was truly aimed at your own actions and attitudes. Sirius would love (y/n); he was sure he would. In a way, (y/n) sort of reminded Regulus of his brother. She was so adamant about not following the rules that people like them followed. Obviously, she hadn't been able to escape Pureblood society the way Sirius had... He doubted, though (y/n) would have tried. It had to be harder to be a woman in the circles they found themselves in. He honestly couldn't imagine living at the level she was expected to.

It's not like he had any special freedom from the constricting nature of their society, but he could do many things she couldn't while still maintaining his reputation. He could have affairs, he could (but personally wouldn't) abuse his spouse, he could even live separate from her without causing a stir. All these things happened within marriages like their own, and only the women seemed to be ruined by their actions and the actions of their husbands and fathers. 

Regulus picks up his quill, intending to finally start this blasted letter. Where does he even begin?

 Sirius,

I do not have any great excuses for my lack of communication, other than the last month, which has been one of the most hectic of my life. I am unsure what you have heard. I doubt you have a full picture of what my life has become, as I would hope you would reach out to congratulate your younger brother on his recent nuptials if you had heard. 

My new wife, (y/n) Black née (y/ln), apparently checked off the boxes our parents found necessary for the next Mistress Black. Funnily enough, though, I'm not sure they did much research into who she is as (y/n) could hardly be considered the traditional Pureblood bride.

But that is hardly a bad thing; if anything, I find her refreshing, if not a bit maddening at times. I had been somewhat afraid to have a meek and mild wife who would cower under my gaze. (y/n), despite being brought up similarly to us, she seems to have developed her own personality outside of Pureblood society. She isn't bitter or greedy like the other girls. The only piece of jewelry I have been able to give her without argument has been that horrible engagement ring-- you know, the one from mum's side. She doesn't want the things most of these Pureblood girls want. Jewelry and expensive things don't seem to make her happy the way mother said they would.

Even as she is different, I have this ever-increasing fear that I might drive her towards the other's level of bitterness and unhappiness. I will be the first to admit that I have no idea what I am doing with women; this fact has not changed in my marriage. It's become even more apparent that I haven't a clue how I should behave as I've been forced into this relationship.

It has also become clear that Mother's advice has been shit, as every attempt I've made with my bride has been met with annoyance from her. I can't seem to give her what she truly wants. Embarrassingly enough, what she talks of-- craves from me is some sort of romantic connection. This is something I hadn't planned on in an arranged marriage, and I'm not sure if I will be able to indulge her without a bit of deceit. 

Which I would feel horrible for doing-- pretending. 

Last night, like many nights in recent weeks, I found myself in an argument with my wife over this exact topic. Something she said triggered a memory, hopefully, a memory that you have a recollection of as well.

Do you, brother, have any memories of our dear mother when she was-- well, motherly, to say the least. Warm and loving, as a mother should be. When she would admit to us in hushed tones that the love we showed her was the replacement for the lack of love between Orion and herself?

During the heated exchange with my wife, I was struck with that strange memory, and I realized deeply and uncomfortably that I was in the early stages of pushing my own wife towards becoming our mother. Something, I realize now, I cannot allow to happen.

Pushing this girl towards unhappiness when she was forced into marrying me by her parents is unacceptable on my part. I'm completely aware that it is me who is making us miserable. I should be happy, or at least satisfied enough in the marriage to indulge her, to try. (y/n) is beautiful, everything a man could want in a wife. And I do want her. 

Yet, I do not know how to want her the way she is expecting me to. And, I have to reiterate that I don't know how to even-- fall in love, I suppose.

Through my woeful letter, I hope you see a solution to my dilemma. Or at least can offer advice as I have no idea which direction I should go at this time.

Sincerely,

Regulus places his quill to the side, reading over the content of his letter. At times, he sounds like a pathetic child whining, but he hopes his brother can see he sincerely wants his advice.

Very much requires any advice Sirius may have.

None of Sirius's advice could be helpful on the trials and tribulations of marriage per se, but if anyone had experience in relationships, it was Sirius Black. Sirius, who wooed and flirted his way through life, would know exactly how he would be able to win (y/n) over and hopefully form a romantic relationship with her.

Slowly, Regulus gets up from the desk, taking his time to cross the room. Opening the glass door to the balcony, he pokes his head out. When (y/n) doesn't look up, he clears his throat.

She freezes, slowly lowering the book enough for their eyes to meet, but doesn't say a word.

"I'm going to go to the lobby to have this posted." Regulus feels the light pink of embarrassment on the tops of his cheeks.

(y/n) nods once before giving her attention back to the blasted book. Regulus's lips pinch before he shuts the door a bit louder than necessary.

Much to his annoyance, the banging noise doesn't seem to faze his wife. 

He stalks down to the library in a mood, the letter to Sirius gripped tightly in his right hand.

A young witch greets him, asking if he needed any assistance with anything.

"I require an owl. I have a very urgent letter that needs to arrive as soon as possible."

"Okay, if you'll follow me, we can get your letter sent." The witch leads him up to the rooftop, showing him the hotel's fastest owl.

***

A sharp knock on their suite's door startles Regulus, who had been reading the Prophet to pass the time. He gets up off of the room's couch, opening the door to an older gentleman.

"Mail delivery, Master Black." The old man hands him a hastily folded piece of parchment addressed to him in Sirius's messy excuse for handwriting.

"Uh-- thank you." Regulus digs in his pocket, pulling out money to tip the man. They exchange the items, and Regulus hurries over to the desk. Hurriedly, he breaks the wax seal and opens the letter.

 You got married?

Ah, yes. His ever eloquent brother didn't even bother to address the letter, jumping right to the point.

Regulus reads on...

You got married? And I didn't even get an invitation? I'm sort of hurt, but yet again, mum would've been pissed if I showed up. How fun would that have been, though? Me crashing your wedding in my Docs and my worn Led Zeppelin shirt. Mum would've freaked.

We really missed an opportunity, Reggie.

But, wow. You married. That's wild. And she's a bit wild as well? How did you manage to end up in an arranged marriage with what seems like the most unique of the Pureblood lot? Besides me, of course.

I'll have to meet this fascinating (y/n) (y/ln)-- or should I say (y/n) Black? Weird-- I have a sister-in-law. That feels too grown-up and stuffy.

Maybe it feels wrong, mostly because you never dated anyone, or at least anyone I knew of.

The point you made about you knowing absolutely nothing about women is incredibly accurate, I'm afraid, Reggie. The poor girl, I hope you haven't been ignoring her like Orion does to Walburga. But, I'm almost certain that you have been sort of an ass to her by your letter.

You want advice though, do you now, little brother. Here is my advice to you:

I have dated plenty of people in my days-- plenty. If you truly wish to make your wife (what the hell that is so odd to write!) happy, Regulus, you need to get to know her. 

Ask her questions about her likes, her dislikes. What her childhood was like, who her friends are. Even silly things such as how she takes her tea or what she grew up wanting to be as an adult. But you must be prepared to be vulnerable and answer questions she has for you as well. If you can't open up and be vulnerable, you will never be successful in 

A) forming a "romantic connection" with (y/n) and 

B) falling in love with your wife. 

I hope that I have been helpful. My advice is simple, but knowing the woman you promised to spend eternity with is necessary to live a peaceful life. Maybe the whole "happy wife happy life" saying is accurate. Not like I would know, but still.

As for the memory of Walburga you brought up, I do remember instances like that. I hadn't thought about those instances in a very long time. I hope you are successful in your attempts with (y/n). I would hate to see another woman turn out like our mother.

Your brother,

 P.S. Take your wife out somewhere romantic! For Merlin's sake, Regulus. You have to have some romance somewhere hidden within you!

 ***

Regulus decides there's no better time than the present to follow Sirius's advice. Unfortunately, he already used up his one "romantic" idea (really Orion's, but still) with their disastrous dinner the previous night.

His only option would be to find a local who would know of spots he might take his wife to. He reckons the logical locals to ask where these locations would be are the hotel's staff.

The same witch that helped him with the owl still sits at the hotel's lobby desk. She grins widely when she notices he's walking towards her, "Oh! You're back!"

Regulus controls his mild annoyance with the woman as she bats her eyelashes foolishly.

"I wonder if you know any places around the city that you recommend for honeymooners?"

The girl's face falls slightly before she's grinning again, "You're on your honeymoon?"

"Yes, you've probably seen my wife with me," he says, asserting that he does have a wife and that the girl shouldn't get her hopes up, "I'd like to take her out this afternoon, but I'm afraid I know little of the spots couple's usually visit around here."

The witch thinks for a moment, "I think I have a perfect place in mind."

[spcncershybrid]

She will kill us all- Fred Weasley Imagine

GIF IS NOT MINE

(Summary: Your two best friends rope you into their recent prank little did you know you would be hurt too.)

Fred Weasley X Reader

So basically I’ve seen a lot of people being like ‘oh just imagine Fred’s death being a prank and at the funeral George stays behind and Fred just wakes up saying what a good prank.’ so uh here is something similar. There will be a second part!

April 29th , 1998

“Hey Y/N.” The twins say in unison as I enter their shop.

“Hey why is the closed sign up?” I say pointing to the door.

“We have a plan-“ George starts.

“-a brilliant, heart wrenching, sad idea.” Fred finishes.

“The both of you and plans is never a good thing.” I say sighing.

“Also if it’s just the both of you doing it why did you guys call me?” I ask confused.

“Well our mother won’t kill you for the idea we have planned.” Fred says nodding over to his brother who agrees.

“Just spill your brilliant, heart wrenching, sad idea” I say looking at them suspiciously.

“Well so you know how the whole situation with the Dark Lord is happening.” George says.

“Yes?” I question looking at them.

“Well one of us is planning on fake dying-” Fred says.

“I already hate the sound of this.” I cut him off.

“So I can fake die then at the funeral you guys can hide my body then we can all go home.” Fred finishes raising his eyebrows at me.

I dryly laugh. They can’t be serious. That idea is insane.

“We know what you're thinking-” Fred starts.

“Yeah that you’re insane!” I exclaim looking at them.

“She will literally kill us when she finds out!” I say rubbing my eyes in disbelief.

They really want me to be a part of this!

“She won’t hurt a hair on your head.” George says as Fred nods agreeingly.

“You know what. The thing I get in return better be amazing for helping you gits.” I groan.

“Yes, she’s on board!” George and Fred cheer circling around me.

I can’t believe I’m doing this.

May 2nd, 1998

Today’s the day. 

Instead of you-know-who killing us Molly Weasley definitely will.

I can’t believe I agreed to this.

“You ready guys?” George asks looking over to Fred and I.

“Ready to die at the hands of your mother.” I say sarcastically as I twirl my wand along my fingers.

They both laughed at my words and George headed inside.

Fred and I stare at the chaos engulfing around the school.

“After this we should go on a date.” Fred says swaying back and forth.

“Oh Fred Weasley you’ll be the death of me.” I groan softly looking up at him.

“Not if my mum kills you for helping us.” He says laughing as he stares back at me.

I roll my eyes at him and punch his arm.

“So will you?” He asked a playful smirk resting on his lips.

“Sure.” I say giving him a side hug as I notice Percy come upstairs.

“You go with Perce. I'll help fight inside. I promise I’ll be safe.” I say letting him go kissing his cheek.

“I promise I’ll stay alive for our date.” He says kissing the top of my head before going with Percy.

I run inside the building dodging the falling rocks and have my wand held high prepared for the fight of my life.

Little did I know it’ll be the one thing to fight for.

Later in the Great Hall

I walk beside George slightly limping as we enter the Great Hall. Immediately being met with sadness seeing our fallen friends whose lives have ended.

“Why is my mum crying?” George says as he stops abruptly.

“George who’s that on the floor?” I ask stopping next to him as my body grows cold.

Molly looks over at us, tears falling down her face.

We run over to her, dropping to our knees next to Fred’s body.

“There was an explosion that sent him flying into a wall. There was nothing I could do.” Percy said stunned as he watched the pair cry.

“No. You arse you promised!” I whisper angrily as I clutch his clothing tears already making its way down my face.

“Fred! Oh my gosh Fred!” I sob as I shake his body vigorously hoping his eyes would open.

”Come on brother please this was supposed to be a prank.” George whispered for only us to hear.

“He’s dead. My precious boy is dead.” We hear Molly say as we stand.

I look over to George and hug him. We both sob in each other’s arms, parts of us dying with the boy that lie on the floor.

One Week Later

I look into the mirror as I smooth out my black dress.

Today is the funeral. Fred’s funeral.

I take a deep breath and head down the stairs meeting the Weasley family.

We stand together mourning the loss of Fred, each of us nearly tearing ourselves apart as we look at his body lying peacefully in the casket.

“I wish this was a stupid prank.” I whisper to myself.

George walks up to me and stands beside me.

“So much for the plan.” George said sadly as we watched Arthur and Molly cry as they held one another.

“We’ll lay him down tomorrow morning. Morning was his favorite.” Molly said as she headed inside.

Soon enough the Weasleys head inside leaving George and I with the casket.

“You know he promised me he’ll stay safe. He even asked me out before the whole mess.” I say breaking the silence between us.

“Before the war he wanted to ask you out. He fancied you a lot. Ron and I bet each other a galleon if you two got together. I guess I owe him one.” George says laughing quietly recalling the memory.

________________

“They surely will get together.” Ron said as he stared at Y/N and Fred laughing and scheming together.

“They won't, they're both scared.” George said watching the pair.

“They would look cute together. Have you seen him when she’s near.” Ron said, staring at his brother sitting in front of him.

“You should’ve heard him yesterday talking about her. She walked in and he turned as red as our hair.” George says laughing.

“We should set a bet. One single galleon.” Ron said, smirking as he watched as Y/N slapped Fred’s arm playfully.

“You’re on brother. I bet that they won’t get together. This will be easy; they are both too scared to ask each other out. The Yule ball was pure luck for them. It’s been this way since second year.” George says confidently holding out his hand.

“I bet that they will get together.” Ron says matching his brother's confidence and gladly shakes his hand.

“Remember when he stepped on my foot during the ball.” I say laughing with him.

“I thought you would never walk again after. I was surprised he asked you seeing as you burnt the paper ball he threw at you to ask you in the first place.” George says laughing as we both reminisce on the events of the Triwizarding Tournament era of our lives.

________________

“He won’t ask me Angela, it's pure knowledge. Fred Weasley doesn’t like me.” I say sadly looking ahead at a Hufflepuff pair of students walking hand and hand after being asked to the infamous Yule Ball.

“He surely will. Just give him time.” Angela says comforting me.

“I sure hope so.” I say looking at her and get back to writing in my book.

Later on…

We all sat in the Great Hall as Snape walked past us, book nestled in front of his face. 

Fred has non stop been flinging paper balls my way nearly getting me in trouble.

Out of my peripheral vision I notice him ball up another piece of paper.

I pull out my wand concealing it under the table as Snape walks past up stopping right behind Angela, who might I add is sitting right next to me.

Fred chucks the paper towards me but I react quickly.

“Incendio.” I say pointing my wand to the paper watching it burn and the charred pieces fall onto the table.

“Fred Weasley if you throw another paper ball my way I will use that spell on you.” I say glaring at him as I naturally get fed up.

“Open it next time.” He hissed looking at me.

Angela and George snicker watching the two of us bicker at each other.

A few moments pass and I silently pray that he won’t throw another.

I look around the room and hear a small thud in front of me.

I look down noticing a scrunched up piece of paper in front of me resting on top of my book.

I look over to Fred who’s motioning for me to open the paper.

I uncurl the ball and read it.

‘Georgie told me you were complaining about not having anyone to go with to the ball. So Y/N Y/L/N I invite you a one night Weasley special. Will you go to the ball with me? As friends.’ 

I smile at the scribbled writing and look up at him. He’s mimicking a ball like dance and nods to me. I roll my eyes and nod back as he cheers silently.

Although it was only as friends I was overjoyed. 

“Told you.” Angela whispered to me as the twins get back to work.

Day of the Yule Ball 

“Does this color seem tacky?” I ask Angela as I twirl in the mirror.

“It’s simple and cute. Fred will lose his mind looking at you in that.” Angela says as she smooths out her dress.

The dress wasn’t too elegant but it wasn’t plain either. It was a simple blue dress with glitter cascading the bottom half reminding me of the night sky.

I link arms with Angela as we head down the grand staircase making our way to the twins.

George and Angela grab each other’s hand and walk away leaving Fred and I standing alone.

We stare at each other not sure of what to say.

“You look beautiful.” Fred said looking at me.

“Thank you. You don't look too bad either.” I say laughing as we head inside where the students gather waiting for the champions to arrive.

After a while everyone dances with each other. I on the other hand stay sitting down watching the night unfold before my eyes.

“Come on you said you’ll dance.” Fred said walking over to me holding out his hand.

I grab his hand reluctantly and he pulls me to him as we sway back and forth to the beat of the song. 

That was until we twisted too quick and his foot stepped harshly on mine causing me to wince in pain.

“I am so so sorry.” Fred apologizes profusely as he guides me to a table.

“It’s alright just remind me to never dance with you ever again.” I say jokingly as I slip off my heels noticing a large bruise slowly appear on it.

“Noted.” He said sheepishly as he helped me stand and led me to Madam Pomfrey.

________________

“You alright.” George says snapping me out of my memory.

“I will be.” I say sadly before turning on my feet and enter the Weasley home, leaving George outside.

I head upstairs not even bothering to stay down knowing I’ll break down at the sight of everyone upset.

Meanwhile...

George paces around outside staring at the open casket blankly.

What if the potion went wrong when he got hurt? He thought.

Yes he was scared that his brother was truely dead, the thought horrified him. The day their mum pronounced Fred dead he was scared believing he died.

But what if that wasn’t the case? He thought as he stopped.

He entered the house and looked around seeing if anyone was up. He quietly entered the different rooms noticing everyone asleep from the long day.

He quietly exited the home and went up to the casket staring at his brother's pale face.

Remember George just pinch him and he’ll wake up. We made this up ourselves. George thought to himself as he stood over the body.

His hand waved over his brother’s and pinched the back of Fred’s palm.

George stepped back and stared at him silently praying the potion worked. It had been a week at most since Fred ingested the potion. 

Slight movement was beginning to be noticeable and suddenly Fred’s eyes were wide open taking in the night sky. He coughed slightly as George silently cheered.

“Welcome back to the land of the living brother.” George said, helping his brother out of the casket.

“How long was I out from that awful potion?” Fred said his legs buckled as he stood up for the first time in a week.

“A week.” George said, stabilizing his brother.

“Oh man how mad do you reckon they’ll be?” Fred asked, getting excited to see his family's reaction to the whole ordeal.

“Very. Y/N and I cried a lot. Mum and dad cried enough to fill an ocean.” George said laughing.

“You and Y/N cried? You saw me take the potion and I told you to tell her.” Fred said, slightly confused remembering the moment like it was yesterday.

“Beware drinking this might taste like what cat litter smells like.” George said, handing a special blended potion to knock Fred out.

“We don’t even own a cat. How do you know what it smells like?” Fred asked, causing George to roll his eyes.

”I can’t believe we’re doing this.” Fred said as he stared at the bottle.

“Me neither.” George says smiling widely.

“So after I drink this what will you do to wake me up.” Fred said mixing around the liquid watching it swish together.

“All I have to do is pinch you and you’ll wake up.” George said.

“Okay so it’ll affect me later during the war and make sure you tell Y/N so she doesn’t think I died for real.” Fred said as he held the bottle to his lips.

“Of course brother.” George said as he watched Fred drink the potion.

Fred gagged as he drank the potion as the different flavors coated his throat.

“Of course we cried. Percy said you were hit by an explosion that sent you into a wall. I thought you died for real. But later on in the night I remembered the potion would have protected you from anything.” George said as his brother regained mobility.

“So why did Y/N cry?” Fred asked, crossing his arms.

“I never told her about the potion Freddie. She was worked up about the war and it slipped my mind.” George confessed causing his brother.

“She cried over my dead body because you forgot to tell her I wasn’t actually dead! George, that was one thing that wasn’t supposed to happen.” Fred silently exclaimed.

Fred never wanted Y/N to cry over the prank. They already dragged her into the idea he didn’t want her to be heartbroken over the fact that he wasn’t really dead.

“We both thought you were dead Fred. There was no way of telling if you were alive or not.” George argued back.

“Please tell me that she didn’t cry for the whole week.” Fred said, staring at his brother.

George stood silently.

“She will be furious you know. Oh gosh she’ll probably hate me after this.” Fred said, running a hand through his hair.

“She wouldn’t hate you Fred. If anything she’ll hate me.” George says laughing slightly.

“We’ll worry about that tomorrow for the big reveal.” George says shrugging as he guides his brother to a shed on the property.

________________ 

“Where’s my boy? He’s gone!” Molly Weasley’s shocked voice pierces through the quiet home.

I quickly get up and head downstairs.

What does she mean he’s gone?

“He should be in the casket Mrs. Weasley. I don’t think we have grave robbers.” I say rubbing my eyes as everyone comes down the steps.

“He’s not here!” She yelled, sounding shocked.

Ron and Harry ran into the living room in confusion as they heard the commotion.

“Who’s not here?” Ginny asked as she walked in.

“Fred.” Molly said as she clasped her hand over her mouth.

I furrow my eyebrows and look around the room noticing one person of the Weasley clan isn’t here. George.

I huff and stomped upstairs. I walk along the hallway and knocked on his door furiously.

“Come in.” I heard him say.

I open the door angrily.

“You better have one hell of an explanation Weasley.” I hiss.

“On?” He asked confused as he sat up from his bed.

“Where is he?” I say crossing me arms.

“Who are you talking about?” He asked as he stood up from his bed.

“The bloody grindylow’s. You know exactly what I’m talking about George Weasley. Where is he?” I ask my voice raising slightly as I tap my foot on the floor.

“Y/N I wanted to tell you.” George started.

“Tell me where he is or you're both dead for real.”  I say staring at him sternly.

“He’s at the shop. He’s in the flat.” George said as he stared down at his feet.

“This isn’t over.” I say as I walk out of his room.

I walk over to the room I’m staying in and grab my wand. I grab my old quidditch jumper and apparate to Diagon Alley.

I walked down over to the joke shop. I placed my hand on the handle and opened the door. I made my way towards the flat and opened it. Low and behold what do I see, Fred Weasley.

“Why are you here?” He asked startled.

“You’re lucky I don't have your head on a pike and because I know how to apparate properly.” I spat.

“Look, I know you’re mad.” Fred said as he put down a book.

“That’s not even the beginning Weasley. You had me worried sick you were dead for crying out loud. I cried for you, Fred and you’re here alive. Was the prank worth it? Was it worth the tears and the heartbreak? So help me on Gryffindor’s name was this whole thing worth it.” I yell at him as I bite back tears. Some cascaded down my face and I quickly wiped them.

“Y/N I’m sorry. I told George to tell you.” Fred said, his voice cracking.

“You’re sorry is all you have to say for yourself! You can forget about that damned date! Don’t even contact me!” I spat angrily as I ran out the room and down the steps.

I wiped away my tears and apparated back to my room at the Burrow.

“Stupid Weasley’s.” I muttered as I grabbed my rucksack off the bed. I began to fill it with my things.

After a few minutes most of my things were packed. I grabbed a fresh piece of parchment and sat down at the desk.

‘Dear Molly Weasley,

Sorry I won’t be here for the funeral. My condolences but I’m leaving. I wish you all the best. I'll be with my parent’s. Thank you for giving me a place to stay for the week I appreciate it.

                                                                                                                       Love,

                                                                                                               Y/N Y/L/N’

I sealed the letter with tape and placed it onto my desk. I grab at my broom and open the window. I hop onto the broom and clutch the top. I pushed my feet off the window sill and flew off. The trip won’t be too long but it’ll probably take a while.

I soared through the air and sighed. I am going to miss them.