#it doesn’t matter i’ve had my license for years i still feel like a 12 year old driving a car for the first time ever

[sixofbabycrows]

i deeply related to percy in this episode cause driving in underground garages is scary as hell

[jodilin65]

FRIDAY, DECEMBER 31, 1993 I’ll quickly get to yesterday’s bad news so I don’t get too pissed and ruin my day. Tom left at 11 AM yesterday to go to the racetrack and the instant he left, who the fuck do you think blasted off? They fucking played till 3:30. I know God’s aiming this at me and not Tom. I was incredibly pissed! I was within inches of going over there, but I said I’d wait till mid-January to see how it is then. Tom really thinks it’s high school kids and that they’ll shut up after the New Year. I’ve got to see it to believe it. People are so fucking rude and inconsiderate. Not only did it flash me back to a horrible trip down memory lane, but I felt so controlled. I couldn’t watch TV, couldn’t open the doors. Hell, I even went out back on the swing and I could still hear it. Those fucking cock-sucking assholes! They have a right to their music in their own home, but I have a right to my peace and quiet or TV in my home. Tom was super cool and very comforting. He didn’t put a guilt trip on me or tell me it shouldn’t bother me. It does, and I can’t help my feelings any more than a woman who loves kids can or a guy who hates hockey can. I’m afraid they’ll do this 1-3 times a week for years. No fucking way. I’ll burn their house down, so help me God. I’ll torch their place if that’s what it’ll take.

I live in a house now, for God’s sake! I shouldn’t have to put up with shit like this.

Later…

Just had a cigarette and now I’m ready to get to life’s pleasant side. Tammy got her CDs and the package.

I spoke to Fran this morning who’s sick with the flu and broke up with Sharon, as they usually are every other day. He hasn’t got the tapes yet or postcards, but he will today, I’m sure. So will Bob. Fran also gave me Ann W’s address. I’ll send her a letter for him.

Got a letter from Bob yesterday, and Book of Letters #5 is complete. He drew a menorah, which was sweet, yet funny as he was short by two candles.

Later, Tom and I are going out to a restaurant.

TUESDAY, DECEMBER 28, 1993 I didn’t get the chance to continue writing yesterday, as I was somewhat busy. What happened was that I fell asleep at around noon on Sunday. Then at 4 PM, those mother-fucking assholes across the street woke me up playing their fucking drums. Yes, I forgot to put my radio on, but the point of the matter is the same as always. I’m fucking sick of waking up from other people’s noise! I now live in a house for God’s sake! When the fuck am I ever gonna be able to sleep with no music on and be able to get up when I say so?!

If in the middle of January, these assholes are still doing this 1-3 times a week, I’m gonna do something about it. I promise that. I told Tom and he understands, but I’d still do something even if he didn’t cuz I’m not as heavy of a sleeper as he is and I live here too, and have a right to sleep in my own home when I want to and not be bothered by other people’s noise. I’ll start with a kind, yet blunt anonymous letter, then if that doesn’t work, I’ll talk to them face to face or send an anonymous letter to the cop across the street that lives two houses away from these jerks and see if he can do something. Now that these people next door have been quiet, it’s these folks' turn to annoy me. I bet if they upped and moved, God would pick another house to annoy the fucking shit out of me. I can’t wait for the business to hitch off so we can get into that ranch we’ve been talking about.

So anyway, I was luckily able to go back to sleep at 9 PM and got up at 3 AM.

Tom was off yesterday and he worked on the pool. We also went food shopping and stopped at Jack-n-the-Box for breakfast. After he dropped me off he went to bring Tammy, Bob and Fran’s packages to the post office, picked up the driver’s manual, then did errands of his own.

I’m gonna study the driver’s manual and take a written test. If I pass, I’ll have a license for $25 for 12 years. If I flunk, I’ll just get a photo ID for $7. Andy says if I can pass the police exam, I can pass this. I hope so, cuz after all, I did pass it in MA.

Tom and I also had some fun but didn’t get around to experimenting with the KY jelly yet, but we will sooner or later. We also played the card game on the computer and I did my usual hobbies. Watched TV, listened to music, etc.

Yesterday I got those 50 postcards in the mail. That sure was fast. I have 10 going to Fran, 10 to Kim, 10 to Bob, 10 to Alex, 6 to Nervous and 1 to Tammy, Lisa, Becky and Sarah. I thought it’d be something different since it’s been so long since I’ve written to Tammy and the girls.

Yesterday I also sewed Andy’s pillowcase and I gotta get more yarn to do the booties.

I ended up conking out at 4 PM and I awoke at 11:00, got up and had a smoke, fell back asleep and awoke to what sounded like a ball bouncing at 2 AM. That was OK, though, cuz by that time I’d had plenty of sleep and I sure did need it. When I fell back asleep at 11:00, I had shut off the radio, too. I have to expect to be woken up if I turn off the radio.

When I got up, I called Andy. I’m surprised he did not really let me have it since I can’t find his tape and I know it’s on its way to either Bob or Fran. Can you believe I was that stupid and irresponsible?! Well, I was. He asked me if in a few days, I could type up a huge list of Stevie songs for him. I told him that’d be no problem.

After that, I ate, played with the pig, played the card game, put my tooth whitener on, put my makeup on and now I will go listen to some tunes.

Later…

Shortly after Tom got up, we went over the driver’s manual. I wrote out more postcards, too.

Got two checks in the mail from my parents. Each for $25. One said Happy Birthday, the other says Happy Hanukkah.

I talked to Dean, the guy who lives next door. I said I was sorry I went off on his wife Lenore and that I should’ve been more understanding of their moving situation. He said they understood and there were a lot of people there. They’ve been so quiet, as now it’s the house across the street’s turn. But I’ll get to hear them this weekend.

It was actually pretty nice out once it got to be close to 11:00. I aired the place out, dusted and vacuumed. Went out back for a bit and even took the pig out. She liked it and wasn’t even nervous.

MONDAY, DECEMBER 27, 1993 Well, I sure had a bad night last night, but luckily it only lasted 5 hours.

SUNDAY, DECEMBER 26, 1993 I went to bed at noon yesterday.

Amazingly enough, I heard no music the last two nights.

Before I went to bed I called sweet old Barb. She was actually a tiny bit friendly. She also moved. Really? They were there for 11 years. I never thought they’d move. She says Debbie’s still there. I believe it.

I got up at 8:00 and Tom had come back from his parents. He got a $50 bill, an inflatable Frisbee for the pool, a T-shirt, a book light, and a few other things.

Now here’s the shocker - Tom never told his brother David and his sister-in-law Evie, who is expecting a kid, that I write journals. Neither Tom nor I even thought I’d get anything from them, but sure enough, there was a package for me when I got up. They got me a journal! I instantly thought Tom told them, but he swears he never did. Way cool! I now have a total of 56 journals.

I still can’t find Andy’s tape. His “psychic” ability says it’s here somewhere. This is what he left a message saying. While he does have an accurate psychic ability, for the most part, I’m gonna hate to have to tell him he’s wrong. He also left his phone off the hook for me to leave party line messages from the radio station. I called Gina and she says she’s not doing the party line right now.

I typed letters to Kim and Alex and also played that game. Now I’m so bored. What do I do now?

Later…

Can’t sleep so I was just up doing some thinking. God, that’s absolutely amazing that Dave and Evie got me a journal. Tom looked dead-serious when he said he never mentioned my doing journals. Well, maybe Evie’s psychic.

Speaking of that, the so-called psychic issue, I can’t help thinking about my dad. He knew other things in the past that I didn’t or didn’t believe. For example, when I was fat, like in the 130s - 140s, he said he knew I’d lose it. Well, of course, I did. He dropped numerous hints about my someday finding “Mr. Right.” Well, remember how I mentioned he recently said, “It’ll work. It’s your time now” as far as Tom and I go? I wonder if he knows whether or not I’ll ever have a kid. Right now I’d say I can’t see myself having one within the next 2-3 years, but I also couldn’t see PHX, dancing and Tom. I can’t see myself ever getting the fuck off the damn cigarettes, either.

Later…

Tom’s at work now, but he has tomorrow off.

We’re both anxious to get the back room and his room fixed up nicely as he wants to get the house appraised. He also has to fix a part of the kitchen ceiling.

We’re both looking forward to having some fun, too. I’ve been so horny and I’d like to see just how much that KY jelly will help if it even does at all. So far, though, he’s only been able to put only the tip of his dick in me. He hasn’t cum yet either, but he’s come close. Thankfully we both aren’t wanting and trying for me to get pregnant.

But what if he can never cum? What if someday we do decide we want a kid, although I doubt it and I seriously do believe I’m sterile? How’s he gonna cum? Even if he could cum, he’d have to do it in a cup. Then I’d have to use a turkey baster, as gross as it may sound. Then again, enough people have said if a guy cums outside of you, that those things can swim up there if you catch my drift.

I’ve also heard other weird things. Some women can tell if they’re ovulating. I can’t. I also hear it’s 14 days after your period that you can conceive, then I also hear a few days before periods and during periods. Oh well.

There’s nothing on TV as usual on weekend mornings, so I guess I may as well go play that computer game for now.

Later…

I’m so fucking bored, but not ready for sleep yet. I played more of that computer card game and I also listened to some music.

SATURDAY, DECEMBER 25, 1993 I sure had a fun and productive night.

Let me just mention a couple of funny things that happened yesterday morning first. I beat the pants off of Tom in a computer card game. It was fun.

Then Tom opened the back door and said, “What is the chair doing in our pool?” Well, the wind blew it in.

Yesterday I finally got Ma’s envelope. They made it sound like they mailed it two weeks ago. They only mailed it out on the 20th. So, anyway, there was a card in it along with about 15 pictures of their new condo. It is absolutely gorgeous. If I was still alone it’d be perfect for me. They’re in a 2-bedroom with 2 floors now. Their furniture is totally my style and Tom and I both agreed that their kitchen and bathroom looked exactly like ours were in Crystal Creek.

I typed them a letter as well as one to Bob.

Tammy sent a card too and it was so sweet of her to put Tom’s name on it too. This is my first card with someone else’s name on it. That sure is weird and different for me, but nice.

Last night Tom and I had lots of fun wrapping Christmas presents for his family. We put bows on it too, and I made pouches for those people getting lottery tickets. He also printed out Christmas pictures which I colored in.

Andy came over and I re-dubbed his tape. I also gave him the notes I wrote out. I’m sewing a ripped pillowcase for him, and for his birthday I’m making booties for him. I can begin that now, as I finally finished Tom’s little bag for his portable computer.

Andy’s gonna want to kill me and I don’t blame him. I was making a tape for him of all the calls left on his answering machine. Well, I think I taped over it with stuff for Fran and Bob. I have never been so stupid, irresponsible, and air-headed before! I’m so pissed off.

Tom’s in the shower now and real soon he’ll be going over to his parents.

I’m trying to stay up so my schedule’s prepared for the 6th. That’s the GYN appointment.

I can’t believe they didn’t blast their music across the street last night, but thank God!

Later…

I’m trying to keep awake and there is absolutely nothing on TV.

Tom’s in the bathroom with diarrhea. What a lousy way to start off Christmas. The poor guy.

When I do sleep, I’m able to sleep with the music off more so than usual cuz the dogs have been quieter. Tonight, however, across the street may very well blast off. It’s Christmas and it’s also Saturday night. Unless they’re gonna go elsewhere for Christmas or have any respect enough to not blast out other people’s Christmas, I don’t think they (or most people) give a damn.

Even though I’d like to change my schedule for a little while, I hope on New Year’s Eve I’m up to watch the ball go down. If not, I’ll tape it.

FRIDAY, DECEMBER 24, 1993 I got my package today. I got two other things besides my guitar. A sweatshirt and a makeup kit. Naturally, no pictures, and no other mail. I typed Mom and Dad a letter letting them know I haven’t gotten the envelope.

Andy’s bringing his tape over tomorrow to re-dub. I didn’t have the volume control up high enough. I didn’t know this as there’s no volume control for recording on my stereo. The edits came out OK, though, cuz I checked them.

Got my period yesterday which I’m so sick of. Maybe on the 6th, I’ll get lucky and the GYN will say I need a hysterectomy.

I sent Tammy and Lisa messages through Prodigy. Also checked Springfield weather. It’s currently 10º! But hey, it’s pretty chilly here now.

Haven’t heard any kids, the dogs have been quieter, but those fucking assholes across the street blared their music for a good two hours. I’ll have to listen to that for the next two nights, too. It seems Thursday, Friday and Saturday are the days that they usually blast off. It’s definitely a live heavy metal band and nothing like when I blast my music. There’s no way other people could hear my music, even if they were outside. It’s the base that kills me.

I have half of Tom’s tote bag done for his little mini portable computer.

Let’s see…what else did I do today? I changed Beauty’s cage, watched TV, did my nails, did dishes and straightened up. Tom hopes to have the pool done soon. I also crimped my hair and rearranged and reorganized some of my cosmetics. Now, I think I may type a letter. To whom, I don’t know.

Later…

I typed a letter to Fran and played computer games. Right now I think I’ll go listen to music. Maybe I’ll write more later if I can’t sleep. If not, I’ll write late tomorrow night or tomorrow. TV was kind of boring. No good TV to watch if I can’t sleep, though.

THURSDAY, DECEMBER 23, 1993 I got up at 7:00 last night. Course I got no mail. Tom went to bed right after I got up.

During the night I watched TV and did some awesome wall art with the markers Tom got me yesterday.

Tom got up at 3 AM and we went to MacFrugal’s which is a discount store. It’s a really neat store and I definitely want to go back when I have more money.

We got 4 little pads with mirrored covers. One with stars, the others with balloons, teddy bears and hearts. We got some glue that’s similar to the roll-on glue, plush street sign stickers, (one of them’s on a journal cover), and Tom got more Christmas presents. We also got one of those things you can write on, then lift up this plastic-like thing and it takes away what you wrote. I had one when I was little and they’re very quick and convenient for writing short quick notes.

Lastly, I got a twin-size foam thing to put on top of my mattress to make the bed softer. It sure beats the foam I cut from my sleeper/couch.

Tom and I are gonna order stamps through Prodigy and I’m gonna buy some really cute envelopes I saw at Walmart and the grocery stores. I only have 9 of those 100 stamped envelopes I ordered. For now, I ordered 50 postcards for $9.50.

WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 22, 1993 Tom just left to hopefully finish his Christmas shopping.

I showed him the stuff I got. He liked it.

Andy brought over a Christmas card that was left outside of the mailboxes at his apartment complex. It was something about owning the Rockies and being a good team. “Hard to keep up with 3 kids. John becoming a dad. It seems like yesterday they were smoking cigarettes in some fort, throwing apples at cars and trying to score with the twins. They wished they lived closer. Whoever gets near Cheyenne, let them know.”

Well, I’m sending this card to Nervous. I also typed a letter to Kim that I’m “accidentally” mailing to Nervous. Yes, I said some pretty wild stuff in the letter and most of it is bull.

Earlier, I taped a movie called Illusions, but I don’t think I’ll watch it right now. Luckily both Unsolved Mysteries and Law & Order will be back on tonight. Some stupid Bob Hope Christmas special was on in place of it last week.

My ear is ringing. I fucking hate that.

Yesterday I still got no fucking envelope from my parents. Maybe it got lost, but if I don’t get it by Friday, I give up. Not on life as Tom, though, but on expecting it. I hope they didn’t accidentally address it to our address but Dr. or St. We’ll see. I hope to hell Tammy gets her CDs cuz she still hasn’t gotten those yet.

I’m gonna knit Andy a pair of slippers for his birthday which is February 15th. He really liked the pair I made. I’ll also send Lisa a check for $10 for her birthday which is January 20th. Larry’s birthday is January 15th and I’ll get his address from Tammy and send just a card.

I wonder if the package Mom and Dad sent by UPS will get here tomorrow? I doubt it. It’ll probably come after Christmas. I sure wish to hell that whenever it comes that my pictures were in it. What a dream. I mean, what a total fantasy it’d be to open up the package and there they are! Yeah - right! I’d surely die of shock though. What would I say to them? God! I’d be speechless. I wouldn’t even know where to begin. If only they knew all I’ve done since being here in Phoenix. They’d die of pure shock! I’ll bet you if I saw them all, I’d be like, oh yeah! I remember this picture! I forgot all about it. I can’t really even remember all of them. There were so many. She stole 30-50, at least. Well, I’m a firm believer that what goes around comes around. Maybe someone’s stolen from her. Or did something similar. I know I’m dreaming, but what a Chanukah and birthday present it’d be to get them all back. It’d be like 5 years’ worth of birthday and Chanukah presents combined altogether. Oh, please, God! Let them finally be in this package. Please, please, please, please!

You know, I did some counting earlier. I’ve gotten 30 new journals since coming to PHX. Did 21 in 1993, but that’s not counting #54 and #55. Got 9 journals since I moved into this house. Not bad!

Later…

I still can’t sleep, but oh well.

When Tom came back from shopping he brought me a box of different colored markers. How sweet and just what I needed, too. He just left for work a few minutes ago.

Wendy left a message about possibly coming over after work. Really? I told Tom he’s got a right to have his friends visit just like I do. His response was, “I care about Wendy very much, but I refuse to let anyone come between us.” Who knows what’s going on, but I don’t care what he decided to do.

His friend Geri’s moving back here from S. Dakota. Now, this woman is someone I definitely don’t want to see, and he knows it. He told her on the phone last night I was staying forever. She still says I’m gonna hurt him. Yeah, sure. I can see and understand her fear of this, though, due to the sorry statistics of assholes out there that do hurt people.

Tom also bought more labels. The kinds that number these books. That’s cool as we only have black. This little kit also has blue, yellow, orange, red and green.

He was showing me some of the Christmas presents he bought. One of them was a paint glue for fabric with a pattern in it and you dot the paint so that the picture comes out dotted. I wanted something like this for myself. It only costs $3.

Later…

I forgot to mention what I’m doing for Andy. First of all, when he came over, he brought 3 tacos and I had one. He also brought me an NPN envelope and Tom gave me one, too. I came across 16 more pictures I don’t want. Mainly of Andy’s first apartment from when he first moved here. Also, a hideous one of me when I was around 21 and two of me with my hair shoulder length when I lived on Oswego St. in Springfield. I put 8 in each envelope.

Before Andy left to come out here, I wrote tons of little papers with lines from edits and songs and whatever. He slowly distributed them in cars, stores, etc. So, I had about 30 small, loose pieces of paper that I wrote all kinds of mumbo jumbo, including Ellie’s phone number. I’ll give him these next time I see him.

TUESDAY, DECEMBER 21, 1993 Just finished watching TV. I also typed Bob a letter.

I did a little bit of exercise and used the Thigh Master. I’ve been constantly using the Thigh Master for two weeks now. Gotta keep it up. I concentrate on my thighs and lower gut mainly. The rest of me is pretty good.

Still haven’t gotten my period yet, but I will by Christmas. I’m so fucking bloated and up to 102 pounds. At least I am much firmer. I’m getting more muscle definition.

I cut two old sweatshirts into half-shirts. I also have a very long sleep shirt. Too long and obnoxious and it gets in the way. I cut it shorter. Lastly, I cut a long strip of material, about 7-8” wide. I put it behind me, took it in front across my boobs and then tied it between my tits. This looks very sexy. I got this idea from a dancer at the Ex-Cal who did this with a scarf. Or a shawl.

I pretty much slept all day and had several weird dreams. Lots of people from my past were there (I have no idea where “there” was). It was very crowded. Bill was there, Ronnie, Cousins Lori and Lisa, and some other old long-time family friends.

Well, I guess I’ll call Tammy now.

Later…

Yup, I was right. The credit card people called her. She’s just gonna tell them she’s home for the holidays if they call again. I recommended scaring them with the edits.

Before calling her, I accidentally called my folks. I just hung up. It was Dad who answered and only half a ring, sounding fully awake. Still, I wasn’t gonna say, “Oops. Sorry to call at 6:30 in the morning. I meant to call Tammy. Have a great day!”

I spoke with Lisa for a while, too. She’s playing her sax tonight in a concert and Tammy’s gonna video it and send me a copy. I’d love that!

Later…

Tom’s gonna be getting up any minute now. Wait till I show him the very creative way I put these margins in my paper journal. I put the box of KY Jelly on the center of the book, then traced down the sides. I guess that’s quite an original.

Later…

Andy and I went to the Christown Mall and Tom gave me $20 in case we decided to go out. Boy, that $20 sure went a long way in the mall. I bought a pen, a pair of white sneakers for $2, a journal for $8 and a beautiful pair of black suede shoes with thick high heels for only $5! They’re so easy to walk in too, cuz the heels are so thick and they’re a really popular style now.

MONDAY, DECEMBER 20, 1993 Last night we went shopping. I even got a pair of blue cotton stretch pants for $4.

Tom may be getting up again at 3:00 and that’s a little over a half-hour from now. That’s what he mentioned earlier as he still has more Christmas shopping to do.

So anyway, I typed another 3-page letter with yellow paper to my parents. If their envelope ever gets here, I can write the address down and mail it off. If I don’t get the letter tomorrow, I’ll call Palm City Info and get their address. I typed a 2-page letter to Fran, too. I used different fonts for his letter and my parents. I really enjoy it. I mean, I just love to sit there and type away, one after another.

Yesterday afternoon I did one of those workout videos for 40 minutes. I feel stronger and firmer, yet fat, as in big, chunky. Got a lot of water retention, too. Why couldn’t males get periods? I wish it’d hurry up and start.

Thursday evening Tom and I may go to the zoo to see all the Christmas lights. Several houses on this street have their houses decorated and lit up so nice and pretty.

Gloria was on the Disney channel, but I don’t really feel like I’ve missed out. I hate how she looks lately. I have enough of her on video from when she was looking just fine!

So, what else did I do this last 24-hour period since I last wrote? Well, I did some more knitting. I’m making a bag for Tom’s little pocket-size computer. Well, it’s almost pocket-size.

Yesterday we got some KY jelly. Maybe this will help, but Tom showed me a position that allows me to be more relaxed. Especially on my bed which is so low due to having no frame. I lay on my back with my feet on the floor and it sure is relaxing compared to holding them up. He’s been more physical with me and I’m grateful for that. It’s not too much and not too little. I also really feel and sense he wants to be more physical too, and isn’t doing it just to please me.

Later…

Oops. I just woke poor Tom up to kill two spiders and he wasn’t getting up. I could’ve sworn he said he was getting up at 3:00, but he really meant tomorrow. At least he can go back to bed and he did.

I’ve been sooo damn hungry. I’m gonna get something else to eat.

Later…

I fell asleep at 6 AM and woke up several times. However, this lazy girl didn’t get up till 5:30. I was sooo tired.

The backs of my legs are sore, but tomorrow I’m gonna run through the video again.

Still no mail from my parents and there probably won’t be until next week. That UPS package may not make it here till around the 30th with everything now being so slow. I called Palm City info, then realized I wasted my time. They can’t give zip codes. I left a message on their machine to call me and give me their address, but they didn’t as I figured.

Tammy had left a message that she wanted me to call her in the morning cuz she’s got something to tell me. Nothing important, though. She gave me their address and I’ve got 2 letters, 3 pages each, ready to go out to them.

She couldn’t give me any hints about what she wanted to discuss as Bill was there. The only thing she said was something about the card (I sent a card). Wonder if she’s talking about the credit card folks?

She hasn’t seen or heard from Larry yet, but she sent a Christmas card. I’ll have to get his address so I can send a birthday card to him on 1/15, then one for Lisa on 1/20. I typed 2 letters so far tonight. One to Alex and one to Kim.

Gotta go shut the VCR off and take my pill.

SUNDAY, DECEMBER 19, 1993 I learned a few things on the computer all by myself without Tom’s help. First of all, I typed a 3-page letter to my parents. Also, one to Kim, Bob, Alex and Fran. I figured out how to delete old files and I also had no problem inserting colored paper.

Wish I’d hurry up and get my period. My tits hurt! The good news about that is that I’m right before my period and I only weigh 99 pounds.

I got a state form in the mail regarding my SS. Boy, they sure operate differently here and I even called my dad. He and Tom helped me with it.

Still no envelope from Mom and Dad. Love this mail system.

I was rearranging a little and I came across a photo album Andy gave me. It’s great for long-size jumbo prints so that’s what I’ll use it for. Tom and I printed out Christmas pictures for his family. I color them in for him. His mom sent over cookies and they’re really good.

I wonder if Tammy got together with Larry yet. I talked to her a few days ago and I guess she didn’t cuz she never said anything about it.

Got a letter and a card from Kim.

Fran’s gonna be a dad by Sharon. Hope he can deal with it. Maybe it’ll be good for him, who knows?

Tom and I wrapped the packages for Bob and Tammy. They’ll go out next week.

Tom and I are fine and so is the pig. Haven’t talked to Andy, but I’m sure I will.

Later…

I just called Gina for the first time since my birthday. She hasn’t been doing the party line lately as she’s been busy doing other things. She asked if I wanted to hear anything. I said The Lion Sleeps Tonight would do. She was gonna play it right away, but she hasn’t yet.

Andy left a message as he was going to bed at 11:00. He said he was pulling his phone off the hook so I could leave party line messages, but I’m only gonna if there is a party line tonight. When I called, I was the only one and that’s no fun.

Yesterday evening, sure enough, the people across the street had lots of company and played their music. I will thankfully say this, though, they had their music much quieter and it didn’t last long. I thought I’d hear from them tonight, but pleasantly enough, it was dead quiet.

The dog next door’s been much quieter too, thankfully. I think someone bitched them out. Very little noise from kids too, so all’s been pretty peaceful.

Yesterday I fell asleep at 4 AM and was so pissed to wake up at 8:30. At close to 10:00, though, I miraculously fell back asleep till 3 PM. Tom got up at 8 AM yesterday and crashed at 8 PM. He’s gonna get up at 3:00 so we can go food shopping. He also has to get Christmas presents. I hope I’m awake enough cuz I’d really like to get out. We figured 3 AM is a good way to avoid the Christmas shopping crowd.

Later…

Guess Tom will be getting up anytime soon now. I’m psyched for shopping, but I’ll bet he isn’t. I don’t blame him. Then after we shop, he has to go to work from 8 AM - 6:30 PM. The poor guy.

FRIDAY, DECEMBER 17, 1993 I am watching TV now. I expect any minute now that the people across the street will blast their music till 11 PM just like last weekend. I wouldn’t mind if they blasted country music or dance music, but they blast heavy metal.

No mail from Ma, but I got a letter from Bob. I copied it into #44.

I called Tammy to see if she got the CDs. She hasn’t yet. I got her package ready. I’m sending two dresses I don’t want, some shirts and jewelry. Also 3 of the 5 posters with glow-in-the-dark paint, and 3 hats I used the fabric glue to put each of the girls’ names on.

Tom also gave me the Yahtzee box to use to send Bob’s tapes in. Last night I made two tapes for Fran. They’re of convos and edits. I had a little mailbag to mail them in. There are convos with him talking to Nervous, Sharon, Melissa, Ann, and the crisis center.

THURSDAY, DECEMBER 16, 1993 Unsolved Mysteries and Law & Order weren’t on tonight due to some stupid Christmas special, so I didn’t watch too much TV.

Actually, I’m so proud of myself. I made a beautiful shirt from a satin pillowcase, made a matching barrette, and did up the second slipper. My wall hanging, which is to be Tom’s Christmas present’s almost done, too. Next, I’m gonna try to knit a tote bag. That should be easy.

I hope I get the envelope Ma sent me tomorrow. My horoscope says good news by mail from a loved one for tomorrow. It looks pretty good through the 19th and so far, they’ve been fairly accurate.

I got a letter going out to Kim that I typed earlier.

I’ve been playing this neat card game on the computer called Cruel. You have to keep the suits together and go from the ace to the king and hope the computer doesn’t stop you before you finish. It always stops me, but it’s fun anyway.

WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 15, 1993 Today’s certainly a far cry better than last December 15th. I was having a nightmare of an asthma attack a year ago today.

Still no mail for me today, but right now I’m gonna go check Prodigy and type a few letters.

TUESDAY, DECEMBER 14, 1993 When we got in, there was a message from Larry that he was gonna be in PHX and mentioned stopping in that night or the next day. After I played his message, I noticed that Tom looked upset and I asked what was wrong. He said he was overwhelmed.

Well, so was I, but I really got pissed when he said that he’d have to “pick up the pieces” when the visit was over. That made me feel like a lousy piece of shit. Like I was a burden to him and not worth it. I told him that I could pick up my own pieces if I needed to and that this was something I had to do. Also, if the visit went bad, I would tell him I never wanted to see him again. I said if he loved and understood me, he’d be a good sport and be supportive. I’m sick of his jealous trips. First, he’s jealous of Kim and now my own brother.

I wanted to give my brother the benefit of the doubt and see if he’s changed or not and see if there could be a relationship with no hostility or anger from the past. I also said he isn’t someone I could associate with on a daily basis any more than I could with my parents or Tammy. I want and hope that there’s a way we can have occasional contact, rather than never have anything to do with each other.

Then Larry called at 7 PM that night and he said he was in Las Cruces, New Mexico. He said he may hit PHX in 3 hours. If not, maybe tomorrow at some time but he had to call his company at 8 AM to see if they had to send him to Yuma or wherever.

He asked to talk to Tom for directions and Tom knows much more than I do. Well, this struck a nerve in him and he went to bed. I asked myself, why should I feel guilty about asking the one I love for help? I felt it was easier for him to tell Larry directly than for me to dictate back and forth.

So Larry never came that night which was OK with me cuz I was tired.

I awoke the next morning after only sleeping a few hours. Tom was already up when I went into the kitchen and he wouldn’t say a word to me. Right away I thought, I don’t need this shit and I’m not gonna take it. So I asked if he was planning on being a poor sport all the time and was gonna try to control me and if he was gonna do this when Tammy and my parents come out here.

Well, his main gripe was that we had plans for Saturday which I didn’t even know about. We were to go to a restaurant, but I thought that was next weekend. He also said he was working on the pool and was going Christmas shopping. Well, the pool and the shopping had nothing to do with me, as I couldn’t help him with the pool or his shopping. I don’t know his family or have any idea of what they’d want.

Then he was expressing his concerns about me letting Larry and abusive people into my life. I said that if Larry came off as abusive or I felt in danger in any way, I’d have nothing to do with him and that I don’t let abusive people into my life. I’m not the Jodi I used to be who would just lay down and put up with people’s shit. I know how to say no to bad people or places.

Neither of us ever thought of me moving out, but when he said “the engagement was off, we were over, I was scum treating him like scum,” I was both furious and hurt. And all because my brother visited me. I thought once again about how life’s all about dumping and being dumped. I wondered if he was gonna throw in the towel and say we were through every time we have a problem. It’s easier to call it quits rather than work things out. I asked him how overnight he went from us working through the tough times to let’s call it quits. He was putting false feelings and intentions in my head, jumping the gun and doing things he didn’t like me to do. He said I was abusive to him by canceling our plans and time together. Seeing my brother is not abusing him, I didn’t know we had plans, I don’t like to be abused, and what goes on in my life with family or others doesn’t mean he’s less important.

So later he apologized for saying mean things to me and I told him of course I want to try to see others when he’s working or asleep so we can be together when he’s home. And yes, he’s encouraged me to see others. And yes, I love to spend time with him. The good thing about it was that we settled our problems and talked them through in a few hours, rather than a few days like it used to be. We even made love and that’s another good thing that I’ve been very happy about. He’s been more physical with me.

Today it got even better, as what he said to me was the best thing he’s ever said in making peace with any of our disagreements. It took a very big person to say what he said when he got home from work after I told him my visit went well with Larry. He said he felt so bad cuz he was really wrong yesterday and didn’t handle it well at all. He really said this from the heart and that he wanted to give me more responsibility like I’ve been wanting if I still want him. I told him of course I wanted him and that if I didn’t, I’d say so and get the hell out. He said he knew that I could relate to pressure and that he wanted me to help him from going crazy and making the same mistake and he trusted me to be responsible for making my own judgments when it comes to us. He doesn’t ever want to say mean things and he wants to learn to handle himself better when he’s upset. He doesn’t want any stupid rules and says I can go back to dancing anytime I want. Oh, I knew this cuz nobody tells me what to do and I refuse to live in a controlled place. I am a responsible adult and he’s not gonna play daddy or put out rules, any more than I would. He fully agrees with this. When I mentioned I was afraid he’d come home from work early when Larry was here, he looked sad and said he didn’t ever want me to feel that way cuz I don’t deserve it. I agree. I also agreed with him to not say nasty things when I’m upset, too, as words can hurt like a slap or a punch. I felt so happy with all we talked about before he hit the sack. What we have to work out and get better at is a joke compared to what Andy and I had to work out and get better at as friends so I’m far from worried. I still feel very confident that we’ll be OK and we have so many good days. We began going together in August and the total time that’s been bad is about two weeks of it and I think that’s pretty good compared to most people!

Later…

I’m sooo happy now. The visit went well with Larry as I said before and I do believe he wanted to see me and wasn’t simply out to please mom and dad. I could sense that Larry’s not anxious to see Tammy, but what can I say? In a way, I’m not surprised, as those two were not close ever. He and I were.

In other news, Tom and I are doing great. Naturally, he’s sound asleep now and I may try to knock off soon.

Before I do, let me mention what I did for Bob. It took me many hours, but I didn’t mind. Especially with Tom’s stereo having high-speed dubbing. I made him 19 tapes of convos and edits. He’ll love it and this will really occupy his time. I taped onto tapes of other people, cuz I want to get rid of those and use only blanks if I can. Well, I’ll write more later. Bye for now!

Later…

I had quite a busy, yet productive day today. I dusted, vacuumed, cleaned the bathroom, washed dishes, washed the shower curtain and last night I changed the pig’s cage. I also went out to the driveway and picked up 3 flyers that had been out there and trashed those.

Only Tom got mail today, but I spoke to dad. No UPS package got sent yet, but it will soon. My guitar and other stuff will be in it. Meanwhile, tomorrow I hope to get an envelope ma sent.

I spoke to dad about their new place which they love. Pictures will soon be sent to me. Can you believe they do not have a camcorder? I’m surprised they don’t.

I told him that Kim, Phil and Alex came and that Kim sent a camera. I also told him all the great things about Tom and dad said, “It’ll work. It’s your time now.”

Can’t wait for him to hurry home so I can show him all I’ve done around here and tell him things.

Last night he was so loving and rubbed my back and made me coffee when I got up after a nap. I could see in his eyes how he still feels bad about last Friday and Saturday. He expressed once again how he felt bad for saying mean things. That’s what really counts. If he couldn’t see his faults or didn’t want to confess to them, then there’d be a problem and I’d probably leave.

Later…

Tom and I just talked for an hour and a half. Now he’s gone to bed.

I have a sprained ankle which is a little sore. We have no ace bandages, so I wrapped it in a towel.

The lady never called back as I asked her to, but she called from a dance studio somewhere about a free trial lesson.

I did some thinking as far as the Ex-Caliber goes, or any other bar. The only moneymaking nights that are worth it are on weekends and no club will let me work less than 4 shifts a week. Sunday - Thursday nights and days aren’t really too much more money and if I did work weekends, I’d hardly see Tom. This would be cruel and unfair to both of us and my spending time with him is as important to me as it is to him. So, we’re gonna check out dance places for disco or modern dance and see if weekly lessons are affordable. This way I can do what I love to do, it won’t be 6-7 hour shifts, I could schedule it so Tom could drive me, he’d have better peace of mind and I wouldn’t have to deal with drunks in loud smoky bars. We’ll see.

Right now, I’m taping a 2-hour movie of the Brady Bunch having a Christmas reunion. After, I’m gonna watch a movie called Single White Female.

Earlier I typed 3 letters. To Kim, Alex and Fran. I also pre-addressed envelopes. I’d like Tom to teach me how to print address labels for those I constantly write to. This way, all I have to do is stick it on, like I do with my address labels. It’ll be neater and easier.

Well, it’s almost showtime, so I’m gonna go make me some popcorn. I must take my meds in an hour.

SUNDAY, DECEMBER 12, 1993 A lot has happened in the last few days and now I’ve got the time to get into it.

I am awake and I can’t believe I slept 14 hours. On and off, that is, but I sure needed it. For the last week, I slept only 5-7 hours.

Last Friday Tom and I went to some stores. In the mall’s record store, a woman said something so funny to me. She began to back up into me, then said, “You’re so pretty I thought you were a mannequin.” This is different, and Tom and I were laughing after. I kept asking Tom how it felt to be engaged to a mannequin.

Let me go check the computer to see if I got any mail. Then, I’ll continue.

Later…

No mail.

Now, where was I? Oh, at the mall. There, a pretty Mexican woman gave me a really pretty belt for $10 which is normally $20. I also got 2 free hair accessories that were normally $5 for filling out an application for a credit card I know I won’t get, nor do I want to get it.

I got 3 more fabric glues, so now I have a total of 6. More variety. I had 3 sporty caps that I didn’t want so I put each of my nieces’ names on them and soon I’ll send them.

I got a really pretty red nightie with red satin and chiffon. Next time I go to this store, I’m gonna get a pair of jeans with black lace on the sides of them. I got a gold G-string which will go with a gold top I have for when I go swimming and tanning.

I got 2 journals for a buck each. They’re of shitty quality, but that’s what you get for a buck.

Lastly, unless I’m forgetting anything, I got knitting needles and yarn. I’m making something for Tom, which I’ll explain another time, but get this! I made my very first slipper and the second one’s almost done. Who knows how I figured it out, but I did. Tom was impressed and really liked it.

I have both good and bad news to tell about Tom later, but hopefully the bad won’t be repeated.

Later…

I don’t believe it! I just saw my brother and it went really well. Tom’s to be home any minute now, so I’ll write later.

Later…

I have so much to write about that I’m actually typing this now on the 12th at 8 PM. I will copy it in as soon as I can.

Let me get into the visit with Larry before I back up and fill in the gaps of the last few days. While Tom was at work he came and parked the 18-wheeler alongside W. Weldon. Good thing our house is on the corner, otherwise it would’ve blocked driveways. Yup, that truck was huge.

He came out of the truck and gave me a hug and kiss and then I went up into the truck. What were my emotions? Shock and disbelief. About seeing him, I mean. The cabin of the truck was very nice with a bed, TV, VCR, and a place for food and clothes. Then he came into the house and was really impressed with it. I gave him some water and he asked if it was OK to smoke in the house.

Before he came in, he showed me pictures of Larry and Jennifer. If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear that Jennifer was a picture of Sandy as a kid.

He also dropped some paperwork and said the word “frickin.” Then I said, “You can say fucking cuz I swear, too.”

So, in the house, we had a good talk and I showed him around. He saw some of my drawings and I showed him The Beat magazine I was in. He asked if he could have it and I intended to give it to him anyway.

I also told him how much happier I was here and that I was staying out of trouble with the law. He said he knew all about that. I knew he did. It was in every newspaper in New England.

The only thing he said about Jenny C was that they were friends and that her parents were sick. I knew they were friends and I told him that both she and I did shit to each other that was wrong but that from now on it’s not worth my getting into trouble with those I don’t like. I just simply try to walk away and ignore them. This is with all the exceptions of any letters I’ve sent to anyone. He said it was good that I haven’t made any calls cuz it’s not worth it and it’s too easy to get caught. I did tell him that I didn’t know it was illegal to record people at first and I told him about the edits. I even played him a few seconds of one of the edited tapes.

He says that when he’s home and he gets the chance he’ll see Tammy. He doesn’t know from one day to the next where he’ll be. He’s in PHX all the time so he understands that if he calls here spontaneously that I may be busy.

He told me about his job and I told him about dancing and my hobbies. That I was still pretty much into music and art.

He told me that he was in Florida making a delivery and looking up a number in the phonebook when he came across Mom and Dad’s number. That’s when he decided it was time to mend his ways.

Uncle Marty had a heart attack and he says he feels bad cuz he and Dad are living on borrowed time. He’s come to realize you only have one family. Yup, you can choose your friends, but not your family. Can’t say I feel much for Marty, though.

I’m sure he was shocked at how thin I am now (back to 99), and how long my hair is. I thought his hair would be grayer and that he’d be much heavier, but he’s only big in the gut.

During the visit, he called Mom and Dad with his credit card and we even had a good talk. I said hello when he handed me the phone and my dad said, “Hi shorty.” He said they were shipping out my other guitar and Ma said to look for an envelope and some other stuff.

He was here for about 45 minutes, as I didn’t want Tom to come home to surprise company after working 10 hours and being beat. Tom’s a whole different story that has the best ending ever to any of our disagreements, but I will get into this later.

Now, let me back up and cover what’s been going on with Tom and I. Last Friday after we came back from all the shopping, Tom was bummed cuz the pool is still fucked up and it’s gonna cost money to fix it.

I also got a call from the GYN who now needs to reschedule me for January 6th. So it was a hectic day for both of us and Tom really hates his job.

THURSDAY, DECEMBER 9, 1993 Last night was lots of fun. Tom came home in a super good mood, knowing he’ll be off for 3 days. We talked and ate some B-Day cake.

I felt kind of tight yesterday, as there was a big smog alert and lots of carbon monoxide in the air due to all the Christmas shoppers.

Later…

Tom’s going out very soon to the horse races. I feel he’ll win $40, but we’ll just have to wait and see. I hope he has a good time anyway.

An hour or two after Tom got home last night, we went to Hollywood Videos to get The Guardian video. The bad thing about it is that there’s a red line across the top of it. It’s a copy guard I guess, but it’s OK cuz I can still see what I need to see. They also cut a scene I liked that was on TV. But, they replaced it with some pretty explicit stuff.

Later…

I had to stop writing earlier to go and do something. Tom’s out now at the races. Hope he wins something. It is beautiful out now. I have both the front and back doors open now. Got the fan running through to air out the smoke.

Anyway, as I was saying about the video, she has nice tits and a nice body. Not too thin, not too heavy. There were two pictures of her on the back of the video box. One was only so-so. The other was much nicer, but kind of bright.

Now, why some guy’s standing out in the middle of the street with a basket beats the living shit out of me. Oh well.

Still no mail from Bob or anyone. Who knows what, if anything, is going on? I hope he’s OK, but he has two more stamps and two more address labels I sent him, so we’ll see.

I’m listening to an old Juice Newton tape I got into when I was about 13 or 14.

Andy may call later. Actually, he definitely will cuz he’s gonna need his work pants. On the other hand, Tom and I may be going out later.

Well, here’s the school bus, and the man with the big basket put two little kids in it.

Later…

I have so much to update on. Lots of stuff has happened. I’m super tired now as I’ve been through a lot with very little sleep. Therefore, I shall write tomorrow. What I will do for now, though, is copy in Bob’s letter in #44. Yesterday I got a letter from Alex and Bob, but I already copied in Alex’s.

WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 8, 1993 Last night I did the 4 remaining posters. They don’t look too pretty in the light, but they do glow in the dark. One’s in Tom’s room, one’s in mine, the living room, kitchen, and the back room.

Damn! I turned the heat down on the thermostat but it’s still soaring away. I opened the front door for a while.

Tom wasn’t able to get the video yesterday, cuz there are two movies called The Guardian. The guy at the store got confused cuz neither he or Tom knew this.

Bob better send a letter today. Why haven’t I heard from him? I hope Kim and Alex send letters too.

Anyway, I fell asleep last night at midnight. I heard Gina was on last night. Guess Magic got sick. I got up at 7:30. Tom’s been up since 4:00 and is at work now.

My video will be available today, I guess.

Chanukah’s at sundown tonight. I wonder if my parents will call.

Today I typed Scott a letter. I figured it was time. Did a bunch of weird stuff with different fonts.

I talked to Andy who lost $90 in Vegas. He had fun, though. I sewed his pant pocket and he’s to be coming over here later.

Later…

No mail for me at all today. Only for Tom.

At 2:15 I have to call my doctor’s office. They haven’t mailed me my second referral yet. Well, if for whatever reason I don’t get to my appointment on the 16th, then I’ll take it that I wasn’t meant to get to it, know I’m OK, and forget it.

I’m soooooo bored right now. I wish Andy could come over now, but I’m sure he’s watching his favorite soaps.

I tried to call Nervous and I was gonna tape it, but there was no answer. He’s probably still working at Feinstein’s Leather. He tells me Crystal’s still living there. Amazing.

Well, the Brady Bunch is coming on now, so that’s what I’ll watch. I’ll write more after.

Later…

Well, it sure is quite overcast out there today.

I’m sitting here watching a talk show now, waiting for Andy’s call.

Earlier I was playing Nintendo and doing dishes. Well, trying to. The sink is still pretty backed up. I tried to drain it by filling up a big metal bowl with water from the sink, then I dumped it outside.

I just ate some Kiwi and I’m watching The Maury Povich Show, then Donoghue comes on at 4:00. This episode deals with those with amnesia and multiple personalities. Don’t know what the topic is on Donoghue cuz it’s not listed.

I really hope Andy doesn’t take forever with coming over. You know how he is - always late.

Christina just called collect, but of course I refused it as Tom’s not home. She’s his jealous friend’s (Geri’s) daughter.

Well, Donoghue’s about legalizing prostitutes. Boring.

Think I’ll call Andy and see if he’s anywhere near coming over. If not, I’ll call Nervous cuz I’m so fucking goddamn bored. I may write later.

Later…

Now I’m really pissed and frustrated! No answer from Andy and none from Nervous, but I just tried paging Fran, so we shall see. I gotta be really bored to go and page Fran. Oh, there are things I could do - I just don’t feel like them, though.

Later…

Well, there is good news after all. I just called my doctor’s office cuz I haven’t gotten my referral yet. It’s been updated till the 29th at the crotch doctor’s office. She said just go ahead and go to the appointment. Like I’m really looking forward to this. Aaaaaaargh!

There’s a movie coming on at 5:00. Should I see it? We’ll see, but first I wanna see some food. I’m hungry!

Later…

Fuck! No! I’m still up to 103 pounds. Shit. I gotta stop eating for a few days. Gotta drink tons of water. I just fried some hash browns and ate that so now I’ll take it easy.

I called Andy and he said he had just gotten done cleaning his bathroom and was tired. He may come over tomorrow night and he says he has clean work pants.

I definitely gotta clean our bathroom. Tom always said he’d do it as I hate to, but I feel bad asking him to. He works hard enough and I’m the one with the time to do stuff like this along with many other things here.

I’m taping a movie that’s on now till 7:00. Then I’ll tape the Billboard Awards that’s on from 7:00-9:00. Lastly, I’ll tape Law & Order. That’s on from 9:00-10:00.

Right now, I’m listening to the one and only famous Rick and Nervous fight. It’s just as funny as the first time I ever heard it.

Tom will be home in about an hour. Wonder if he was able to get the video.

Well, for now, I think I’ll go see if Nervous will answer his goddamn phone.

TUESDAY, DECEMBER 7, 1993 Another day of getting all junk mail, magazines, or bills. Something must be up with Bob, but I hope not. Yesterday Tammy’s CDs came. I just mailed them out to her. Tom mailed a check for $1.86 to the same club. I hope there’s no problem. If there is, we can do one of two things. Tell them we never got Tammy’s CDs, as they can’t prove we did. They weren’t sent by certified mail. If that doesn’t work, there’s another club.

I spoke to her earlier to tell her I was mailing them to her and to see if she got my Chanukah card and check. She did. I wasn’t sure, as the mail system’s slower now due to the holidays. Chanukah starts tomorrow night at sundown.

Remember how I said Tom ordered something for me in the mail? Well, I got it. It was an adorable two-year planner, calendar/address book/notepad with a teddy bear cover. I put the notepad and address book away for now for future use, but the calendar is on the refrigerator. I also cut out the part with the teddy bears and glued them on the back cover of the next journal.

Tom’s picking me up The Guardian video today. Great - I’m looking forward to it.

Well, I’m gonna go see a movie I taped.

Later…

I typed 5 letters today. To Tammy, Fran, Kim, Bob and Alex. I had the front and back doors open to air the place out. The phone rang at one point with some guy doing a radio survey when there was a knock on the front door. I knew right away it was Tom’s brother David from having seen pictures of him. He came to check out the pool. I was somewhat embarrassed as I was wearing a workout outfit. Now he can see his brother’s lover is all hair, eyes, belly, and legs. Oh well. Although, my measurements have gone down an inch while my weight has gone up to 103.

I surprised Tom by making him two sandwiches for when he comes home. Guess I could use some food myself now.

MONDAY, DECEMBER 6, 1993 I fell asleep yesterday afternoon at 4:30 after taking two Pre-Sym pills, as I was so bloated. That shit knocked me on my ass. I awoke to the phone ringing at 6:30, then Andy arrived at 7:30 shortly after Tom did. I was too tired to go to Tower Records with him, so we’re gonna go next week. He brought back my Bonnie Raitt CD and the pants with the torn pocket I’m gonna sew. The 3 of us sat and chatted for a while and he left at 8:30.

I watched some TV, then fell asleep at 10:00 along with Tom. I got up at 4:15. I am still a bit tired.

When Tom got up this morning, he printed out The Guardian movie guide. Not only does it have a write-up about the movie, but it also has the cast, sound effects person, director, copyright, etc.

SUNDAY, DECEMBER 5, 1993 Oh, my fucking God! I just don’t believe it! Larry just called me. I was so caught off guard. I didn’t know what to say. He wished me a happy birthday. He drives a tractor-trailer and is constantly in Phoenix and California. He’s been to the clubs I’ve danced at. He said Dad told him, but he didn’t think ma knew.

Ha! She knew.

His son Larry is 13 and Jennifer is 10.

I simply told him all’s been great since I got here and got my life together. He said he did not want to get involved in any family problems, he has his own family and life.

I said that is fine, but to remember how me and Tammy went through the same shit he did.

He said he only called Tammy to make mom and dad happy. I said, “Don’t you think that’s deceiving?” Then, he said he didn’t mind calling her, he just doesn’t want to get in the middle of things. Fine, but now I wonder… did he really want to call me? Or was it just to make mom and dad happy?

Well, I have very mixed emotions about meeting with him. A part of me wants to tell him to fuck off, and the other part’s curious. Tammy did bring up a point. She said how we both know how much I’ve changed, therefore, what’s to say he hasn’t changed too? Oh, I just don’t know what to make of all this right now. Tammy mentioned being hopeful that there could be a way to get along without the anger of the past getting in the way. Well, here’s where I stand on that one - I’m a firm believer in letting dead dogs lay. I try not to hold grudges, but this guy abandoned me. Me, who also went through the same abuse. I was young and naïve, but he couldn’t stand by me. He took his anger on mom and dad out on me. There was no emotion at all in his voice. How do I know he’ll take me for face value and not judge me by my past? I’m not about to explain or defend myself to him or anyone. Maybe we will have to meet face-to-face to decide if I want to associate with him or not. All Tammy told him was I became a very happy, stable person here and engaged to be married in a year. Well, I don’t even want to think about him now.

After a cigarette, I’ll write about my other beautiful caller, then get on with all the many good things going on.

Later…

This day still’s getting weirder and weirder. I just spoke to my mother and believe it or not that went pretty well. They moved to Palm City and they have a 2-bedroom condo. She’s working in an office on computers as a secretary. She said something about dad taking care of some storage thing. He’d just gone out when I called. She left a message yesterday wishing me a happy birthday, so I figured I’d get it over with and call, as she’ll only call again here. I told her I was not dancing now, but was working on the computer and was engaged to be married in a year. She said she was very very happy for me. I also told her a little about Tom and all he did for me yesterday, which I’ll soon get into. I said I’d send pictures of the house and she could send pictures of the new condo. Lastly, I told her of my very mixed emotions regarding Larry.

Later…

Well, now I shall update the 3rd and 4th. Tom was gonna fire up the Jacuzzi but the filter’s broken. It’ll soon be fixed, though.

On Tuesday he’s picking me up the video of The Guardian. Eventually, we’ll also rent Local Hero. If I like how she looks in it, I’ll buy it.

Let’s just say I made out yesterday really well.

Andy called me on midnight the 4th and sang me a happy birthday. Today he may be over at 6 PM. He’s getting me a CD and I need to sew another pocket for him.

On the 6th & 7th, he’s going to Laughlin with Velma.

After I spoke to him, I called Gina at 12:30 AM on the 4th. She wished me happy birthday live on-air and played the song, They Say It’s Your Birthday. Stan was on again too, and I left Andy a few messages. She got the letter and my picture and thanked me for sending it. She also used the promo tape of me, Stan and Tammy last Tuesday from 9 AM-noon. That’s cool.

One more thing I forgot to mention about mom - she’s sending me a package and their new address will be on it.

Later…

I just spoke to Nervous for a few minutes.

Now let me finally get into all I did and got yesterday. I got up at 11:30 PM on the 3rd. I fell asleep again at 6 AM till I heard Tom open the cake at 8:30. He got a nice chocolate cake that said, “Happy Birthday, Jodi.” There were two candles, unlike anything I’d ever seen before. They were two tall, skinny candles. A pink one and a purple one. He said the reason why there were two was cuz there are two of us. How sweet.

I gave him his Chanukah card and he gave me a birthday card. What it says really hits the nail on the head. Here’s what it says: We share a very special kind of love because we share so many other things, too – happy memories, precious dreams, little everyday discoveries, private jokes that no one else would understand. We even think alike in a lot of ways, but not about everything….just enough to make life interesting. It’s no wonder I wouldn’t trade what we have for anything in the world.

Tammy called too, and said she didn’t send anything cuz she’s sending a family portrait. Believe me, I want this more than a check. This way I can put it in the living room, or somewhere here and bring them closer to me.

This is when I told Tammy about Tom and I and she congratulated me and said she was happy for me. She also asked how old he was cuz she always wanted an older brother. They’re the same age, but Tom’s almost two months older. Good enough.

Enclosed in my birthday card were the stickers in this book. They’re also on the covers of the previous and next journals.

Tom took me to Red Lobster where I got a combo of shrimp, lobster and crab legs. It was great and he got steak.

I then went to withdraw $20 and we went to Target’s department store. I bought a journal with a little girl on it. A real one, not a drawing. I got a white satin G-string and a purple one, too. Got 4 overcolor markers and 4 undercolor markers. I used them a few pages back, as well as on the back cover of this book for the entry dates. Lastly, I got 5 neon-colored poster boards to paint on with neon paint that glows in the dark.

It is absolutely beautiful out now, but I wish I could go swimming!

Well, guess I’ll lie down for a while till I hear from Andy.

SATURDAY, DECEMBER 4, 1993 Well, I’m 28 now.

We left early to do a humongous shopping order. It came to around $127. I also got 3 Chanukah cards. One for Tammy and Andy that I wrote with my calligraphy markers. I sent Tammy a check for 20. I have yet to do up Tom’s card. I will real soon after I get caught up in here. Now’s a good time to do Tom’s card as he’s asleep.

Later…

I just quickly did Tom’s Chanukah card. His first-ever, I’m sure.

Yesterday at the store I won a 25¢ little teddy bear. It’s one of those games where you try to grab it with this claw-like thing, and I got it. Then, I tried 3 more times, but my luck had run out.

Let’s see… what else did we get? Oh, a red light bulb that is on in the hall now. It’s neat.

FRIDAY, DECEMBER 3, 1993 I got two letters from Kim today and in each one, she enclosed a letter she’d gotten from Bob. Tomorrow, I feel a Bob letter coming.

I put one of Bob’s letters in a no-postage-necessary envelope and the other one I still have. The two letters from Kim are on their way to Fran. I typed Bob and Fran both a letter tonight.

I did the dishes and now the fucking sink is all backed up.

I slept yesterday from 2 PM - 9 PM and Tom was to fire up the spa for last night. Well, that was out of the question as it turns out that the filter, or something like that, is broken. Great. So now he isn’t sure we can get the dishwasher cuz this may be an expensive repair. He says he’ll look at it more closely in the daylight.

I taped and watched Amityville 1992: It’s About Time. It was really nothing spectacular at all.

Andy left a message all bummed out about taking a really hard test, but now not even sure there’ll be an opening for him at AT&T. They are laying off people.

He also said that midnight was my birthday. Hee, hee. He’ll never remember it’s the 4th.

Either later this morning or tonight, Tom and I will go food shopping.

I’m not sure if I mentioned this, but Beauty’s definitely pregnant. Tom had a dream too, that he walked in one day and there were babies. I’ll either see if Tom knows anyone who’ll want the babies, or trade them in for store credit at the pet store. You can do this where I got her.

Next door’s dog had been much much quieter lately. I figured someone either killed it, or someone really complained. I knew my luck would run out, as I heard it at 4 AM yesterday for an hour. I had to listen to the radio for an hour which I wasn’t in the mood for, but it beat listening to that damn dog. The fucker sounds like it’s two feet outside my window. I’ve heard no kids, though, thankfully. The last time next door was noisy was when they were moving in.

God sent me a new thing that goes on 3-4 days a week for about 3 weeks now and I swear it feels as if I’m in apartments. The house across the street has a band and a really kick-ass stereo. I’m surprised no one’s complained, but I don’t know if anyone has. Especially the pig across the street two houses away. The bass and drums are sooo annoying. Especially when I’m trying to watch TV or just enjoy total peace and quiet. When I got up last night, Tom was on his way to bed and he said, “I’m surprised they didn’t wake you up across the street. They’ve been blasting their music all night long.” I slept with my music on cuz I figured I’d be woken up by that or a dog.

Later…

I just got done relabeling the outside boxes of my tapes. Remember how Tom gave me these silver foil labels? Well, they’re great for numbering tapes, but not their boxes, as it’s a little hard to see. He brought a few neon orange-colored labels from work and I used those for numbering the boxes. They’re much easier to read.

THURSDAY, DECEMBER 2, 1993 Yesterday I fell asleep at noon and I got up around 8:30. I got no mail, but there was a message from Andy. He wanted me to let him know if I wanted the Christmas Through Your Eyes CD by Gloria. I left him a message not to get that or Mi Tierra by her as I’ll get it through the record club (I hope). I named some old albums of Linda’s he may want to get on CD. Speaking of Linda, guess she got a new album out now in English. She previously released another Spanish album I have yet to get. There are tons of CDs I want. She’s also on The Jay Leno Show tonight which I taped. I haven’t seen it yet, but I saw a quick clip on a commercial, and oh my God! She’s gotten so fat, her hair looks pitiful and she’s really aging. How sad. The poor woman was once so drop-dead beautiful.

I also taped Unsolved Mysteries, Now, Law & Order and Tales of the Crypt on HBO.

I typed Kim a letter and who knows what I’m gonna do now? When Tom gets up, which I don’t think will be for several hours, I’ll have to have him put my clothes out in the dryer. I don’t have a key for this door, and I hate that room. It’s sort of a part of the garage. Who knows what spiders may be in there?

Also, I blasted the fan and opened the doors when he left for work to air the place out. I think I blew out the pilot light on the living room wall heater. It’s freezing in there!

I also finally got around to sending Tammy a message. I told her all about the pig and our “tentative” date to get married.

That’s all for now. I guess I will go see the shows I taped.

Later…

I just had to wake Tom up a few minutes ago to relight the pilot light on the wall heater. It was absolutely freezing in here.

At 10:00 he’s taking his parents to the racetrack. Instead of him taking them there every Saturday, he will be taking them every Thursday due to his schedule changing.

Later…

If Andy can find the Lush Life CD, that’d be nice cuz I sing most of the songs on that album. I still haven’t seen Linda yet on Jay Leno, but I will when I’m more awake. I’m starting to get pretty tired.

I hope I get a letter from Bob today. I love getting letters from him and anyone else who writes me.

I asked Kim to let me know in her next letter to me if she’s had any developments in being able to get my tapes back that the fucking pigs took. You know, I’ve lost all respect for cops and pretty much most people of authority. Yes, there are some good cops, but you hear story after story of those whose badges have gone to their heads and are on a big power kick. It’s just like at Brattleboro, Valleyhead, and most places like that. A few care and play it fair, but very few. Most are on power-play at high speed. I never want another cop friend again. I’d never have a one-nighter with a Lisa S or a Laurie H if it were possible either.

Later…

Tom just went out to get us breakfast from Jack-n-the-Box. I’m so hungry. I’m up to 101 pounds, too, and probably more like 105 on an accurate scale. Oh well.

Tom’s been really good at predicting my mail for me. He feels one letter, probably from Bob.

So anyway, when I wake up, if he’s up too, we’re gonna go out to the grocery store. I still have to get Chanukah cards. We also need a few things around here like milk and some TV dinners as well as munchies. You know me and my popcorn.

Tom already got his first Christmas card yesterday from his brother that lived here and his wife. They sent wedding pictures, too. I’m gonna be getting 3 Chanukah cards, as I mentioned before. One for Tammy and the girls, Andy, and Tom.

WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 1, 1993 I was so sure I’d begin this paper journal before the 1st, but I ended up getting sick. I had already dated it for Nov. 30th, so I covered it up with an address label. I fell asleep yesterday at noon and I woke up wheezing my ass off at 6:30. My attack lasted nearly two hours. I’m fine now, but very tired. I did fall back asleep from 10 PM - 12:30 AM, but I’m not trying to go to sleep right now. That gets boring and frustrating. Tom was a big help when I was wheezing. He made me coffee and rubbed my back.

Andy left a funny message. He forgot if my birthday was on the 1st or the 3rd and to call him and let him know which one it is and what I wanted to do. I called to let him know it was the 4th and that Tom was gonna heat up the Jacuzzi.

Later…

I can’t sleep so I figured I’d write some more for now.

Tom should be getting up at 6:00. After he takes a shower, I’ll take one. I certainly could use one and my hair is a mess.

What will I do today? I haven’t a clue. Perhaps some serious letter writing. I still have to send a message to Tammy. I got no mail yesterday which is odd. Hopefully, I’ll get a letter from Bob today and maybe one from Kim and Alex, too. Tom wrote almost halfway into this book. It’s amazing how much his handwriting looks like Bob’s.

Later…

Tom’s up making those disgusting chomping and slurping sounds while he eats his sandwiches. In an hour he’ll be off to work and I’m gonna open up the doors and air the place out. He’s got a cold, but I was gonna air it out anyway. Cigarette smoke’s been building up in here now that the EC has been off.

I took a bath about an hour ago and I feel a bit better. Still tired and tight in the chest, though. To feel better, and also cuz I get sick of looking like a geek, I put on makeup and did my hair.

Later…

I am watching Little House on the Prairie now and next is Charlie’s Angels, then Geraldo.

Tom left at 7:30 and for about 45 minutes I played with Beauty.

I’m looking forward to getting a video of The Guardian. I’m hopeful that there’ll be a nice picture of her on the video box. I’d also like to try to hunt down the other movie she did in 1983. The one called Local Hero. I wonder how she looked back then.

In this episode of Charlie’s Angels, a Las Vegas dancer gets killed. Kelly (Jaclyn Smith) goes and dances in a chorus line to catch the killer. Kate’s always been my favorite angel. I used to have a huge crush on her. Damn! The clothes back then were absolutely pitiful.

Oh, fuck! Kate Jackson’s not in this one. Some other girl is on with Cheryl Ladd and Jaclyn. Not that disgusting Shelley Hack, though, thankfully. I like Farrah better than Cheryl, too.

Well, it’s only 52º now. Kind of chilly.

Geraldo’s going on now but during commercials, I’m gonna log onto Prodigy to see if I got any mail.

[shirophantomvox]

Ging Freecss Character Analysis

Hisoka Analysis| Illumi Analysis| Killua Analysis| Chrollo Analysis

What’s up, y’all? I am back again with another analysis. Today, I will be talking about Ging Freecss and I am glad that this was requested by @dukinaxael. I’ve been wanting to talk about Ging for a while and now is my time to shine. PS, I’ll be doing Leorio’s character next.  I’m sorry that this is so short! I haven’t been able to watch the last seasons because Netflix will not upload them. Enjoy anyway!

We all know that Ging is considered to be a dead-beat father to his son Gon. He is the reason why Gon wants to become a hunter in the first place and will do ANYTHING to achieve that goal. As the story is told, Ging left his home when he was 12 years old to take the Hunter’s exam. After passing, he never returned home, at some point met Gon’s mom, and saved a lot of felons/criminal’s lives. Now he is apart of the Hunter’s association (I think?) and apart of the Zodiacs (I think). Some of these next statements are assumptions because I haven’t seen anything past season 4. From that little bit of information, it seems like Gon gets his “over achiever” mentality from his dad. Who would have thought that a young man who had just obtained his hunter’s license would use it to help out criminals instead of busting them? Aunt Mito has expressed how she felt once her brother left and didn’t return, that is why she stressed that Gon should return home once he gets his license. She even stated that she cried for the longest when she realized he wasn’t coming back.

The whole mystery about why Ging abandoned Gon is very fuzzy. According to Aunt Mito, Ging dropped Gon at his house, said that he isn’t with Gon’s mom anymore, and left while some people say that Mito took Gon from Ging because she felt that he was too immature to take care of him. Some even say that he lost a custody case to her. I can’t tell you if this is true or not because I don’t know and I haven’t seen any seasons after 4.

Judging from YouTube Clips, Ging seems to be a selfish dad and doesn’t care about how his son basically cried like fuck for feeling guilty about what happened to Kite.

Leorio asked why he hadn’t seen Gon in the hospital and he acted like he didn’t care. If you think about it, Gon is the type of child that doesn’t want things handed to him, so maybe Ging was implying that he didn’t want to see Gon until he continued to push and work towards finding him. Still, that’s a horrible way to reacted once you’ve found out that your son is about to die. Here are some questions that I’m sure most of you have:

Why did Hisoka want to talk to Ging? Does he know that Ging is related to Gon?

Why does he refuse to go anywhere near Gon?

Why does he only talk to Gon on a high tree and not on the ground where everyone else is?

Why did he send his son on a goose chase just to find him?

I don’t want to say that I hate Ging but I strongly dislike him. (If he did do this) Why would you abandoned your child and leave him with your sister for her to raise? Then you send your 12 year old son, who had endured so much emotional pain/trauma from beasts he had to fight along the way, BTW,  just to meet you and then you only talk to him once your high off the ground? Ging, not the best guy in the world and certainly doesn’t deserve the #1 Dad mug.

Did Ging do all of this so he could make his son stronger while he was away?

In regards to question 1, I’ve seen some rumors on YouTube implying that Hisoka had an agreement with Ging to watch over Gon until he returns. I’m assuming this was after Gon left home.  Ging said that once Gon returns home safely he and Hisoka will fight until the death.

Do you all remember when Hisoka told Gon something along these lines at the end of their fight at Heaven’s arena?

Many people have suggested that Hisoka had been protecting Gon and Killua from fighting opponents they wouldn't win against and it makes sense. He wouldn’t let them pass until they learned about Nen and beat the crap out of them hoping that the pain would cause them to quit fighting and never receive their Hunter’s License or take on strong opponents. Now if that last part is true, why would Ging set up an entire game to lead Gon to him? That's still twisted no matter how you look at it. Like I said, this manga is twisted in ways that I can't understand, lol.

Hisoka and Gon consistently fighting reminds me of Danny Phantom and Vlad Plasmius.

Another person implied that Hisoka and Kite were people directed by Ging and along the way included Bisky (just by coincidence).

I would like to make a note. Pictures that were taken of young Ging portrayed him to be a happy and proud man but present day Ging looks angry, unhappy, and always ready to fight. Could this be due to the horrific nature of the Hunter's exam and other opponents that turned his innocence and humanity into something worse? We see the same thing happen to Gon. He was a happy bright kid that allows his anger to spiral out of control...and always wants to fight.

Well, you know what they say: Like father like son.

Ging and Gon finally have a talk as father and son.

Apparently, Ging is on his way to the Dark Continent and forbids Gon to follow him. Overall, Ging has a toxic love for his son by consistently pushing his away until the very last second. I don’t know what is up but this anime is the definition of toxic love.

I can definitely say that Ging is a much better father than Zarkon. At least he acknowledges Gon unlike Zarkon who thinks his son is weak because he is half Altean. Damn, anime/manga’s; what’s up with the toxic father trope? Is this supposed to be the driving force to marketing these male characters stronger? Not going to lie, the toxic or sexist father trope is old and annoying .

This part of the analysis is based form what I’ve heard about Ging, YouTube clips, and what has been said about him. Of course I’m probably leaving out a lot of information but that’s because I haven’t seen the rest of the seasons.

Judging from photos kept around the house, Ging always wore his hat over his eye. I guess he was going for the Emo look when he was younger. His hat has hairs stick out from it which probably implies a certain type of cloth the hat is made from. In other instances, He has his hair sticking up like Gon’s but has a cloth wrapped around the edges. He wants them to be on fleek you know? Other times he just has his hair out with no hat or cloth. He usually wears white pants, shirt, and a blue cloth over his front and back side.

I hope you all enjoyed this. I did try my best and I am so sorry that it is short.

[slapshot-to-the-heart]

complication, miscommunication - a. beauvillier

Popping in with another Beau fic! I wasn’t sure who to write this one about for the longest time, so it was on the back burner for a while, but I think it works really well with him. Let me know what you think - hop into my inbox, please reblog it if you liked reading! (I also love reading the tags.) I love getting feedback!

word count: 3k+

The offseason was never a good time for anyone who was unsigned, and Anthony Beauvillier was no exception. After a second-round loss to the Hurricanes in the playoffs, he was taking some time off before leaving New York to spend the summer in Montréal. “Maja,” he called, looking over at the couch to where his girlfriend of a year and a half sat curled up on the other side, seemingly engrossed in a book. Anthony chuckled. “Maja,” he said a little louder. She made a noncommittal noise. “Maja Mitsuko Okabe.”

Maja snapped her book shut, looking up at him with panic in her eyes. “What? What is it? What’s wrong?” 

He snorted. “Does something have to be wrong for me to talk to the woman I love?”

“You full-named me,” Maja shrugged, tucking her feet beneath her on the couch cushion. “Doesn’t usually happen.”

Anthony searched his mind, frantically trying to come up with some excuse for interrupting her, but not coming up with anything that would sound very convincing. “I was just wondering...if you had booked your flights yet for the summer.” 

Maja narrowed her eyes; she clearly wasn’t buying it. “Yeah, booked them yesterday. Air Canada nonstop from LaGuardia to Montréal.” She had requested the time off two weeks ago, and would have heard back sooner had it not been for a staffing change in the HR department of the green energy firm where she worked as an electrical engineer. “I’ll try to get a Friday off sometime in August, come up for a long weekend.”

“I’d like that,” he said. Of course I’d like it,” he thought. Why wouldn’t I like it? Why did I even say that? 

“Something’s on your mind, Beau,” Maja said softly. And, like almost every other time she said so, she was right.

“Yeah,” he sighed. There wasn’t really any use trying to keep it from her. “I’m not sure if the team’s going to give me a qualifying offer.”

Maja shifted towards him on the couch, propping her head up on one arm. “And who told you that?” 

“Nobody, really,” Beau said, shrugging. “It’s just a bad feeling I have. My season wasn’t bad, but I still underperformed, and I know Trotz and Lou were looking for me to step up in terms of goals. Playmaking isn’t everything.” Anthony’s voice dropped. “I know I obviously wouldn’t be able to do anything until I know if they’ll extend an offer, but…” He paused. “My agent’s heard some interest from other teams. Guess they just want to throw their hats in the ring if it comes to that.” 

Maja played with the clasp on her bracelet, the same one Anthony had gotten her for their one-year anniversary. “Where?” 

“Winnipeg, Minnesota, I think he might have mentioned something about Edmonton.”

“Oilers, huh?” Maja said carefully. “Playing with McDavid, that could be cool.” 

Beau made a face. “I mean, yeah, it would be, but…” He trailed off. “But that’s in Edmonton. It’s thousands of miles away. I’d hate having to leave the team, I wouldn’t get to play with Mat anymore. And I don’t know where that would leave us.” 

“What do you mean, you don’t know where that would leave us? I’d go with you, I thought you knew that.” Maja stopped playing with her bracelet. She said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world, like there was never a possibility she would have considered anything else. 

Anthony turned to her. “But you love it here. You love your job, you’re doing important stuff.” 

And that much was true; Maja loved feeling like she was using her knowledge for good, and her coworkers were some of the best she’d ever had. But she loved Tito more. “I am, but I can find a job pretty much anywhere, Beau. It’s important to me that we stay together.” 

“But what if I do go back to Canada?” Anthony said, one hand running through his hair. “Your whole family’s in Boston, I wouldn’t want to take you away from that. And you don’t know anyone there, and I wouldn’t want you to have to move to an entirely new country just for me.” 

“It’s really not all that different, Beau,” Maja said, stiffening. “I’m an engineer. I can get a job anywhere, I might have to get a new license but it’s not that hard. Weather wouldn’t be a shock, I’ve dealt with snow my whole life. And unless you went to Montréal, it’s not even like I’d have a language barrier.” 

“I know,” he said, “but I don’t want you to feel like it’s an obligation for you to pick up your whole life and move just because of me.” 

Maja stood up abruptly, nervously running her hands over her jeans. “It’s starting to sound like you wouldn’t want me to come, Anthony,” she snapped. 

He screwed his eyes shut. She didn’t call him by his whole name unless she was really, really fed up with him. “It’s not that, I just—” 

“You just what?” Maja cut him off. “Because whether or not it’s what you meant by it, Beau, the way you worded it makes me think you’re not serious about this. About us. And I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that I am, so I’m going to need you to do some real soul-searching and get back to me about how you really feel, because it sounds like we’re working on a deadline here.” She turned on her heel, grabbed her jacket, and walked out the door. 

---

Anthony didn’t like that they weren’t talking. Granted, it had only been a day and a half, but it was rare that he and Maja went that long without FaceTiming or calling each other, even when he was on a road trip. It just wasn’t something they did. And it also wasn’t like he had to think about his answer, about how serious he was about his relationship with Maja. It was one of the most important things in his life. But, just like the fight that had led him to this moment, pacing around in his kitchen with a rapidly burning piece of toast in the toaster, he was worried. Worried to talk to her, worried he’d seem like he was being pushy if he did, worried he’d seem like he didn’t care if he didn’t. He was tempted to call Mat, or even Jordan, but didn’t want the inevitable tongue-lashing that either was sure to give him. He knew he had to fix it, but he didn’t know how. 

Anthony lay on his bed later that evening, his phone on speaker next to him, playing nervously with his hands. Sometimes, even though he was almost 24, there were things he just couldn’t go to his friends for. Mat was his best friend and he loved him, but he needed someone else for this. He needed his mom. “I know my flight’s supposed to leave in a few days, but Maman...I don’t know what to do. I don’t want to leave things like this.” 

“Then you don’t,” his mom shot back over the phone, her French terse. “I raised you better than this, Anthony. You don’t leave the women you love unsure of where your relationship stands, where the two of you stand. You love her.” She said it more like a statement. 

“More than anything,” he replied morosely. 

“Then you stay, you go over and talk to her. And if that means you’re in New York for a few more days, then so be it. Your dad and I can wait. Québec will still be here when you’re done. What’s more important right now is Maja, and that you fix this.” 

Anthony groaned, his head hitting the pillow. “You’re right.” 

“What was that?” she replied, even though he knew she had heard him just fine. 

“You’re right, Maman. It doesn’t matter if it wasn’t what I meant. I need to fix this.” 

He could see her nodding on the other end of the line. “You do. Go to her.” She had barely hing up the phone before Anthony was frantically tugging on his shoes and stumbling out the door. 

Anthony was outside of her door less than half an hour later; it would have been earlier, but New York traffic didn’t seem to care that it was past 10 PM. He knocked on her door frantically; he could have used his key, but it just didn’t feel right. He heard her pad down the hallway towards the living room. “I’m coming.” She opened the door, her mouth slightly agape when she saw who it was. “I thought you were maintenance. The bathroom faucet’s been leaky.”

The corner of his mouth twitched up. “At,” he checked his watch, “10:12 PM?”

Maja shrugged. “Night shift?” She stepped aside to let him in. “I’m guessing you want to talk.” Maja was intuitive; even more than that, though, she knew Anthony better than anyone. He didn’t like to let conflict sit, knowing it would only get worse with time. She walked over to her couch, gesturing for him to sit, her arms crossed. “So talk.”

“I wanted to say I’m sorry for what I said the other day, for making you feel insecure in our relationship and for letting you doubt how committed I am. You didn’t deserve that.”

“Do you get it, though?” Maja questioned. “Do you get why it hurt me so much?”

Anthony did. He knew he did, so why was it so hard to admit it? He settled for a stiff nod.

She sighed. “Because it made me feel like you weren’t as serious about us, our relationship, as I am. I read your cautioning me against moving with you if you ever got traded as you not wanting me to, which made me feel like you just had no interest in building a life with me, in taking the next step. And that’s what hurt so badly, because I knew the second you mentioned it that that’s something I’d do in a heartbeat for you.” Maya looked over his head, her fixing her eyes on a picture of Anthony from his first home game, trying to collect her words. “It seemed like you didn’t see us lasting, nothing long-term that would require those kinds of sacrifices and choices to be made. Almost like I had wasted my time, this past year and a half, on someone who couldn’t care less if I stayed or went.”

Anthony leaned forward, hesitantly reaching for her hands, wrapping his fingers around hers when she didn’t pull back. “I know how my words came out was wrong, and I take full responsibility for that. I shouldn’t have said it like that, but I think I did because I was worried, and didn’t want to assume you’d be willing to do something so drastic as move thousands of miles and potentially to a whole new country just because I asked you.”

“Relationships mean compromise and sacrifice,” Maja said. “And I didn’t think it was fair for me to feel like I was the only one doing either.”

“You weren’t,” Anthony shook his head. “You aren’t.” 

“I never got what you meant about worrying about the distance,” Maja said. She scrunched her nose. “Okay, I take that back like halfway. I got what you were saying about it being hard. It would be, of course it would be. But it’s not like we haven’t done it before. You’re gone a couple times a month during the season, and then most of the summer in Québec apart from when I could get off work for a week or two. And sure, it was rough, but we got through it. So I heard you not wanting me to come with you, and me not seeing a need to stay here, and didn’t see where you saw us going. If you saw us going somewhere. That’s what hurt the most, I think.”

“Moving without ever having lived together just seemed like a big step. I didn’t want to push you into something you weren’t ready for, but I would have hated it just as much if suddenly you were off in a new state or country all alone in an apartment some place where you didn’t know anybody. It wouldn’t have been fair.” 

Anthony had a point, Maja thought, as she moved her thumb back and forth over the back of his hand. “Have you thought about that, though? Things going forward, moving in together, all of that?”

He met her eyes, and now it was his time to stare at her like she had just asked the world’s most obvious question, like there was no possible parallel universe where she didn’t already know the answer. “Absolutely, Maja. I’ve thought about everything.”

“Everything?” she asked, her thumb stopping momentarily. “What’s everything?”

Anthony smiled softly at her, wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her gently into his side. “Everything means everything. Moving in together. Getting a nice house in Garden City, or wherever we’ve settled by then. The day I finally get to put a ring on your finger,” he said, absentmindedly rubbing the fourth finger on her left hand. “Getting to wake up to your beautiful face every day, and never having to leave. Taking our kids to visit your grandparents in Japan, trying to figure out how to raise them trilingualy.” 

“Really?” Maja laughed, a watery laugh filled with disbelief and hope and unfettered joy somehow bound into a single noise. “You’ve thought about that?”

“Of course I have,” he said simply.

“You said kids, so it’s going to be multiple?” Anthony hummed his agreement. “How many were you thinking?” 

He tilted his head. “I like three. Seems like it’d work well. But that would obviously be up to you,” he chuckled. “Not like I’d be the pregnant one.”

Maja couldn’t remember the last time her heart felt this full. The way he spoke about their future — the house and the wedding and the kids — so easily and freely made Mja nearly positive that it had been something he had been thinking about for a while. “Three sounds good.”

---

5 years, $20 mil, the text read. Anthony didn’t really care that he wasn’t supposed to tell anyone, not until they made the news official. But he had to tell Maja, tell her they were staying out, had to let her breathe a little easier and stop worrying about having to type up a two week’s notice and figure out how to apply for a Canadian visa. He knew he wasn’t supposed to tell anyone, but Maja was more important than that, and she deserved to know, and if that got him a slap on the wrist from the team, then so be it. He looked down at his watch; it was half past 5, so Maja was on the subway back to her apartment if she hadn’t already arrived. He hung a U-turn, changing directions from his place to hers. This wasn’t something he wanted to wait for. It didn’t take him long to pull into the visitor’s parking at her apartment building, muscle memory guiding him into the elevator and up to the third floor. 

“Coming!” Maja said as he knocked on the door. She flung her arms around him as the door swung open, her toes barely touching the floor. “I’m so proud of you, love,” she whispered into his shoulder, her voice muffled by his sweater. Stepping aside, she let him into her living room, where he was greeted by a counter filled with take-out containers. “I might have assumed you’d come by,” Maja admitted, “so I went out to that Indian place you like and picked up some stuff. Figured you’d be hungry.” 

He wrapped his arms around her waist from behind as she spooned out the rice and butter chicken. “Thank you,” he said, pressing a kiss against her cheek. “You’re always one step ahead.” Dinner was a quiet affair, Anthony cleaning up their plates and putting the leftovers in the fridge before joining Maja on the couch, her back pressed up against his chest as the Good Place played on the TV. 

“I really am proud of you, you know,” she said softly, twisting her head to look up at him. “I know it’s something you worked really hard for and were worried about, and I’m so glad it worked out for you.” 

He squeezed her thigh in appreciation. “Thanks, babe. And again, I’m sorry about how I told you, how I interpreted everything and spoke too soon. It wasn’t fair to me and it wasn’t fair to you.”

“Don’t keep beating yourself up about it,” Maja said. “You’re right that it wasn’t a good move, but you apologized and took responsibility for it, and that’s what really matters. As long as you weren’t just trying to butter me up when you talked about the future.” 

Anthony knew it was tongue-in-cheek and that she was teasing him, if the half-smirk on her face was anything to go by, but he shook his head all the same. “Of course it wasn’t. I meant every word.” They sat in silence for a few minutes before he spoke again. “Don’t resign your lease.” He knew that she had almost a month until she had to give the papers to her landlord, but she’d also been toying around with the idea of moving to a place a little closer to her work. 

Maja looked up at him in surprise, her eyes wide. “Don’t resign my lease?”

He nodded. “Move in with me, I can fly down for a few days to help whenever you decide you want to. Move in with me, let’s start that future now.” If he was being honest, it had been something Anthony had been thinking about for months. He just finally got the courage to ask. 

“When can I start?”

[you-cant-spell-subtext-without]

hello hello hello!  and welcome to Season 12 of Supernatural. 

I admit that initially I STRUGGLED WITH SEASON 12.  I LOATHED the British Men of Letters (other than Lady Antonia Bevell; her hot working mom energy can get it); I have...mixed feelings about Mary; overall it was not a stellar season for me the first go-round.  HOWEVER I shall now give it a second chance,  and look for the subtext within the bad (and if my theory tracks, there will be much subtext as...there is much bad).  Maybe I’ll even develop Ketch appreciation.  **ONWARDS ONCE MORE INTO THE BREACH, MY FRIENDS:

When we last left Dean, I neglected to mention that Amara brought his mom back (this is how much I repressed Mary Winchester I guess?)  We cut to Mary, confused, in a nightgown (I get this is part of the character and that’s why she is wearing it sO wE kNOw iTS rEAlLy MaRY WinCHEstEr because of her nightgown and not Sam Smith’s exquisite face, but honestly WHY - LIKE DID SHE WEAR THE DAMN THING IN HEAVEN THE ENTIRE TIME TOO?).

DEAN [breathing heavily] 

Mom. Listen to me. Your name – your name is Mary Sandra Campbell, okay? You were born December 5, 1954, to Samuel and Deanna Campbell. Your father, he bounced around a lot for, uh, work, and you bounced right along with him, and you ended up in Lawrence, Kansas.

MARY 

How do you know all that?

DEAN 

Dad told me. March 23, 1972, you walked out of a movie theater – Slaughterhouse-Five. You loved it, and you bumped into a big Marine and you knocked him flat on his ass. You were embarrassed, and he laughed it off, said you could make it up to him with a cup of coffee. So, you went to, uh, Mulroney's and you talked and he was cute and he knew the words to every Zeppelin song, so when he asked you for your number, you gave it to him, even though you knew your dad would be pissed. That was the night that – that you met –

MARY 

John Winchester.

DEAN 

August 19, 1975, you were married... in Reno. Your idea. A few years later, I came along, then Sammy.

***DEAN DESCRIBING EVERY DAMN DETAIL OF THIS HAS MURDERED ME.  Also, I know John Winchester “told him the story,” but something about this retelling - these are NOT John Winchester’s words (other than maybe “big Marine”).  The emotions, the feelings, the “you talked and he was cute” Dean is describing is Dean’s retelling, the version he created in his mind of this damn meet-cute, this little love story he played over and over in his head, and that makes me feel warm and tingly and also want to ingest sharp knives.  

***Everyone already knows about the damn Zeppelin reference but just in case you wanted to be tortured, please recall that later on we will get

THIS FUCKING SHIT

Nothing to see here other than Dean using a reference from this LOVE STORY on Cas.  I HATE it here in super hell.  Next rounds on you, Sam.

Anyway, Mary has caught on:

I paused here just now because I had a tHoUGHt.  This season is all about exploring Dean and Sam in their role as sons (this is discussed at the SDCC panel prior to the season; btw they are all free on Prime and I recommend watching before you start each new season for little ��reveals” behind some of the plot lines).  We know Sam has no relationship to Mary really, he was a baby when she died, but Dean was a little boy - with a personality, character traits, identifying characteristics that his mother probably knew like the back of her hand.  That’s why my first run-in with Mary left a bad taste in mouth during this season - LIKE THIS IS YOUR KID, and there is NO inkling or recognition until THIS moment?  In a show that just spent an entire season exploring the “unexplained connection” between Dean and GODS SISTER, there no immediate “OH” from his own mother?!

But then I realized why she only connected at this very moment.  This particular moment - and not the moment where he lists the factual details about her before the story of the night she met John.  That little story with all those cute details - that’s the part of Dean that Mary knew before she died - when that part was ALL of Dean.  Before hunting, before John’s quest for revenge turned him into the person he is today, before he saw himself as a blunt little instrument.  That’s why initially Mary has no recognition that this is her son - because the Dean she knew was sensitive, and kind, and OPEN, and liked love stories, and laughing, and warm hugs and maybe flowers. Because if you think about it WE DONT KNOW THAT DEAN.  We only know Dean AMD. (After Mary’s Death).

*****************************************************************************************************

So maybe Mary represents Dean Before Mary’s Death, and whatever part of that Dean remains, no matter how deep he has been buried.  The part that connects with people; the part that doesn’t want to be alone.  The part that helped Amara.  The part that loves Cas.  And that’s why Amara brought her back.  

*****************************************************************************************************

Ok, if I think of it this way, I may like Mary a little better now.

BUT ALSO MY BABY:

Cut to Cas.

[THE MAN WALKS OVER TO THE EDGE OF THE CRATER MADE BY THE LANDING AND SEES CASTIEL PULLING HIMSELF OUT.]

MAN 

Holy mother.

[CASTIEL STANDS UP AND LOOKS AROUND]

CASTIEL 

Where am I?

MAN

Uh...Earth?

CASTIEL 

No. How far am I from Lebanon, Kansas?

MAN 

Uh... Th-three hours, maybe. Wait, wait, wait, wait. Who – What are you, man?

[CASTIEL WALKS TOWARDS THE MAN AND TOUCHES HIM ON THE FOREHEAD. THE MAN DROPS TO THE GROUND. CASTIEL LEAVES HIM THERE AS HE DRIVES OFF IN THE TRUCK]

***I spy a Season 11 random parallel

And Cas says, “Earth - 

***Also, I often wonder if in his mind’s inner GPS, Cas bases distances on how far he is from Dean. 

In the meantime, Bad Things Are Happening to Sam.

***Toni Bevell, don’t join the British Men of Letters you’re so sexy hahah

Other than noting that this is yet another too oft- repeated Sam, the Victim, Always Gets Tortured scenario, I see no point in recapping these parts.

I will just continue to post Toni Bevell hotness for these portions of the episode. Ok?  Ok.  You’re welcome.

BACK TO THE BUNKER:

I already posted this sweet baby reunion in my final Season 11 analysis/recap, but lets see it again at another angle and from Mary’s perspective CAUSE CLEARLY she has...*thoughts*

Poor Cas had no idea he was about to MEET THE PARENT 

It melts my little heart that Dean uses Cas’s full name to introduce him to people.  Especially members of his family who are trying to kill him.

Anyway, then we get a much longed for gem of typical Cas deadpan:

(*I still miss Casifer a little bit though*)

And then we have 

A MOMENT OF CONNECTION!  

At the SDCC panel, Misha specifically noted that both Mary and Cas are outsiders, so this tracks. 

They head to the garage:

[Exhaling sharply, Mary walks towards Baby. She runs her hand lightly over the car.]

MARY This was John's car. Oh, she's still beautiful.

DEAN Hell, yeah, she is.

MARY Hi, sweetheart. Remember me?

[MARY LEANS DOWN AND LOOKS INTO THE CAR SMILING. SHE STARTS LOOKING AT THE FRONT SEAT BUT HER EYES AND HER THOUGHTS LINGER ON THE BACK SEAT. DEAN LEANS DOWN LOOKING AT THE INTERIOR OF THE CAR WITH PRIDE. DEAN LOOKS AT HIS MOM AND REALIZES SHE’S HAVING VERY SPECIFIC MEMORIES OF TIME IN THE BACK SEAT. DEAN LOOKS AROUND THE CAR, AND LOOKS AT HIS MOM.]

***this is where you truly see that Sam Smith is a genius because she took those directions and put them all into THIS:

And then THIS:

DEAN 

Oh…

[MARY LOOKS UP AT DEAN. DEAN REALIZES HE MIGHT HAVE BEEN CONCEIVED IN THAT CAR, STANDS UP QUICKLY AND LOOKS OVER THE CAR. DEAN SWALLOWS HARD, AND GLANCES AT CASTIEL WHO GIVES HIM A QUIZZICAL LOOK.]

DEAN 

We should go.

***At this time I would like to remind everyone that Cas is also generally in the back seat of this car.  

MOVING ON

Meanwhile-

Back at the bunker, Cas is Continuing to Connect with his boyfriend’s mother:

[EXTERIOR DAY; INDISTINCT CONVERSATIONS AND THE NOISE OF VIDEO GAMES ARE HEARD. THE CAMERA PANS TO MARY WHO’S WATCHING THE SCENE. CASTIEL IS PICKING UP COFFEE.]

CASTIEL 

Thank you.

[CASTIEL TAKES THE COFFEE TO MARY AND SITS DOWN.]

CASTIEL

This must be difficult for you. I remember my first moments on Earth. It was jarring.

MARY 

One word for it. I grew up with Hunters. I've heard of people coming back from the dead before. But to actually do it... after 30 years. A lot's changed.

[MARY LOOKS AROUND.]

MARY A lot.

Cas:

This is usually a look Reserved For Dean, so its interesting Cas is looking at Mary here [they also weirdly joked about Cas hitting on Mary at the SDCC panel and now I'm giggling because if Mary represents the soft part of Dean this all makes PERFECT SENSE).

BONUS

Actual footage of Sam in super hell

The Cas/Mary bonding worked BTW:

[INTERIOR: GREGORY IS SITTING IN FRONT OF HIS DESK WITH CASTIEL, DEAN, AND MARY STANDING BEFORE HIM.]

DEAN 

So, you dug the bullet out of his leg, no questions asked?

GREGORY 

She offered me 100 grand.

MARY 

And you took it?

GREGORY 

Student loans were a bitch, okay?

[ANGRILY CASTIEL STARTS TOWARDS GREGORY.]

DEAN 

Cas! Cas! Cas! Don't hurt him. Not yet.

**Disclosure: I do not accept the “Cass” spelling and take creative license to change it in the script whenever it appears**

GREGORY 

All right, look, she didn't give me her name. When we were done, the driver bailed, I got paid, and then some other chick shows up, and they all drive away.

MARY 

And that's everything you know?

GREGORY 

(insincerely) Yeah. Totally.

****Um, Mom that’s my boyfriend you don’t order him around like tha-

Oh, well, ok then.

***This is important, because Cas doesn’t obey anyone (other than Dean) blindly ever since he invented free will and all that.  Hence Dean’s surprised/impressed look to Mary above.  

Meanwhile:

I recall that I spent most of my first watch of Season 12 gushing over Toni Bevell, so I’m glad to know this won’t be changing.  You’ve been warned.

Next up, Sam is again sex tortured, Cas is a Helpful Boyfriend, and for some reason, Rick Springfield.  

[sylvanfreckles]

“Who Are You?” (FebuWhump 12)

Fandom: Ace Attorney Summary: Edgeworth confronts Wright, who's just lost his attorney's license due to falsified evidence. Edgeworth folded his arms, feeling the old familiar coldness creeping into his eyes. “You know, I've called you a lot of things over the years. I never thought the day would come that I called you a coward.”

(Also available on AO3!)

* * *

Poetically, it was raining that day. Edgeworth stared up at the sign, which had been hastily covered with a drop cloth, and swiftly made his way up the stairs to the small door of what had, until recently, been the Wright and Co law office.

The door was cracked, and in the room beyond he could hear the high-pitched voice of a young child. Edgeworth frowned. He'd only just gotten word that Wright's attorney's license had been suspended...did he somehow still have a client?

“...and these are the magic rings. My first daddy knew seven tricks with them, but I only know five. I know I can get there with practice...maybe I'll be able to do eight!”

Inside the office, Wright was sitting on the battered green sofa he'd kept for clients. He'd crammed some disgusting old beanie on his head to hide his hair, and was wearing a threadbare sweatshirt instead of his usual suit. There was a small girl with him—not the usual one, the little spirit medium who loved samurai movies. She was in an unusual costume of some sort, and kept tugging props out of the various boxes scattered around the office.

“Wright.” Edgeworth didn't bother announcing himself any more than that. Wright jerked in his seat and stared up at him, something close to panic in his dark eyes.

“Edgeworth? What are you doing here?”

“Hey, I'm supposed to give the introductions!” the little girl complained. She did a complicated pirouette, pulled her top hat off her little head and with an ear-splitting bang sent a cloud of sparks and smoke wafting up. “Welcome to the Wright Anything Agency!”

“Trucy, we're not an agency,” Wright wearily said from the couch.

“Right now we only offer a magic act,” the little girl—Trucy—explained. “We're always looking for more talent, though.”

“And who are you?” He'd never been good with kids, but this one seemed to be fearless. At least she hadn't burst into tears or run away at the sound of his voice.

“That's Trucy,” Wright explained. “She's...”

“I'm his daughter!” Trucy explained cheerfully.

“Daughter?” Edgeworth raised his eyebrows and stared at Wright.

Wright sighed. “It's a long story. Hey, Trucy, why don't you go get lunch? The noodle cart will be here any minute.”

Trucy pumped her tiny fists in the air and pelted out the door, chanting about noodles the entire time. Edgeworth stared after her for a moment then turned back to Wright, raising his eyebrows again. “Noodles? Don't children need more nutritious food?”

“Eldoon gives them to her for free if she shows him a magic trick,” Wright explained. He started shifting around the piles of stage props to clear a space on the couch. Though he needn't have bothered...Edgeworth wasn't planning on staying.

“I heard about the case.”

Wright gave a bitter laugh. “Yeah, I'm sure everyone has. The great Phoenix Wright falls from grace. No rising from the ashes this time.”

He wasn't very good at comforting people, or cheering someone up. Edgeworth stuck his hands in his pocket, fingers tracing the edge of the envelope he'd tucked away. “What are you going to do?”

“Well, convince Trucy that we're not gonna open some kind of talent agency for starters,” Wright said. He grinned up at Edgeworth, but the smile was lacking so much of Wright's usual infuriating confidence that it was almost sickening. “My uncle said he can take us in for a while, if I agree to work for him. It's factory work, but it's better than nothing.”

Edgeworth's fingers tightened around the envelope. “You're giving up?”

“What can I do?” Wright spread his arms helplessly. “I was caught with counterfeit evidence. It doesn't matter that I didn't know what it was, or that it was some kind of setup. That's it. I'm done. The only reason we're even here is because the lease isn't due until the end of the month, then after that we're out. I came by to figure out what to do with the files—it's not like my uncle has room for all this stuff.”

Well, this was as good a time as any. Edgeworth pulled the envelope out of his pocket and thrust it at his old friend. “Here. This is for you.”

Wright's face darkened. “I won't take your charity.”

“Don't be an idiot,” Edgeworth snapped. “This is a gift.”

“No.” The disgraced attorney pushed up to his feet and turned away. “I don't need your money, Miles.”

“Like hell you don't.” Edgeworth shoved his way further into the room, moving in front of Wright to block his way. “You just lost everything you worked for. Your job, your pride, your reputation...and on top of that you apparently have a child to care for? And your only thought is to run away and betray everything you've ever cared about?”

Fury twisted Wright's features and he shoved Edgeworth back. “You don't know anything about it,” he hissed. “You weren't even in the country when it happened. You could have vouched for me, given me a character witness, anything.”

“You know I came back as soon as I could.”

“Not soon enough.” Wright shoved him again and turned away, one hand coming up to cover his mouth. “Dammit, Edgeworth, I thought...”

“You thought I would rescue you.”

“I thought it would mean something!” Wright spun around again and flung his arms wide, encompassing the room in one sweeping gesture. “All the cases, all the innocents I've protected and the villains I've put away...all of that just thrown out because of one mistake on a case I wasn't supposed to take?”

Edgeworth didn't reply. He could see Wright's perspective, but there was so much more to the story than that. It wasn't just a simple mistake he'd made, he'd accepted disreputable evidence from an unknown source and presented it to the court without trying to verify it first. Even so, Edgeworth had seen the files from that case...that forgery had been too perfect. Someone had tipped off the prosecution.

“So that's it,” Wright said after a few seconds. “I'm done.”

The prosecutor stared at the other man for a few long moments. “You're giving up?”

Wright shrugged.

Edgeworth folded his arms, feeling the old familiar coldness creeping into his eyes. “You know, I've called you a lot of things over the years. I never thought the day would come that I called you a coward.”

Wright's head snapped around. “You can't-”

“I can and I will,” Edgeworth interrupted. “I didn't realize you lost your dignity with your badge. The Phoenix Wright I know—the Phoenix Wright I counted on, time and time again—wouldn't just give up at the first sign of trouble.”

“They disbarred me, Edgeworth.”

“Then fight them!” Edgeworth caught Wright on the shoulder and pushed him back until the other man was pinned to the wall. “Regaining your license to practice won't be easy, but you can do it. And in the meantime you have other skills—all those turnabouts you pulled in the courtroom, all the ways you saw through the lies to the truth, they didn't come from your attorney's badge.” He poked Wright in the chest, hard enough that the other man flinched. “That was all from you.”

Wright didn't reply, and after a moment Edgeworth released him an spun away. “The money is a gift,” he called over his shoulder. “If you won't accept it you might as well burn it, but you'll need something to start your little talent agency.”

He swept out the door before Wright could answer, nodding to Trucy when the little girl came running up to the office with a pair of takeout noodle boxes clutched in her arms.

Back in his car, Edgeworth pulled out his phone and dialed his office before he got back on the road. “Tell Prosecutor Gavin I wish to speak with him,” he told his assistant when the woman answered. “I have a few questions about one of his cases.”

* * *

FYI: Trucy tried desperately to add "spirit medium" to the Wright Anything Agency's roster, but Maya eventually convinced her that it wasn't proper to sell off her family abilities like that. Phoenix was half convinced she was just jealous she hadn't thought of it first.

[arthurhwalker]

Uroboros Saga, 2021 Update

I haven't published anything in about three years. I am writing, every day, and a lot of that work goes toward my various projects, including Uroboros Saga. This post is to let my readership know a little of what’s up.

In late 2018, shortly after publishing my 8th Novella, I became very ill. Clinical grade General Anxiety Disorder. I was in really bad shape.

It took fourteen months of working on myself, going to therapy, figuring out the right medication, lifestyle changes, and so forth, to be functional. In the aftermath, my partner became ill, with a similar affliction, but completely different somatic and physical symptoms. When I put the last three years into context, beside the Global Pandemic, and everything else going on, I cease being too hard on myself.

I feel badly that my readership has waited so long for new things to read. I feel like I'm bursting at the seams, with so many stories I want to tell. Learning to be a creative with mental wellness, and the intent of maintaining that wellness, adjacent the isolation of weathering the pandemic, has been difficult. All the things that I draw inspiration from, ward off imposter syndrome with, and used as a muse, are mostly unavailable to me.

Inspiration for Dystopian Science Fiction, right now, isn't in short supply. Governments around the world regularly challenge me to get grim, and find new things for people to wonder about, that aren't already happening. My notebooks overflow.

I'm not really smart enough to write science fiction. I'm more an Urban Paranormal, or Fantasy genre writer, by training. I have my partner get me a lot of research, and I've attended science seminars at the university to battle the imposter syndrome. I've had to come to grips with the notion that being smart enough doesn't matter, as long as my audience is entertained.

My muse has always been people. I will sit at a coffee shop, and just listen to ten people talk at once, letting my brain soak up their problems, joys, worries, and so forth. Not having that auditory component, that bit of the real world, is something I haven't been able to get over. I had to isolate while I wasn't well, had a short break before the pandemic, and started again.

Just seeing people's faces on video chat, and to hear their voice, helps a lot. I run a lot of D&D, but the format isn't the same as being there, and hearing the true tone of a person's voice. With trained public speakers, a transcript is fine, but for writing authentic feeling dialogue, it takes a connection, or presence, of people.

I talk to myself in the shower a lot, and that helps.

I'm creating text and environmental descriptions for books 9, 10, 11, and 12. I've everything laid out to finish the Book 7-9 plot arc, and start the new 10-12 story. I've got character designs, cover work prototyped, and timelines set for how it'll all unfold. I really want to tell everyone what I've got planned. I'm on the verge of exploding, you know?

I've done a little legwork on having audio books done, but that's something I think I may end up doing myself. I get compliments on my voice all the time, and think my readership would appreciate hearing the books read by me. Let me know if you agree, or disagree with that.

Anyway, I'd write script for the first three books, I think. Do a test chapter, and let people sample it. My new place has a pretty ideal space for doing audio work, with some upgrades.

For the Uroboros Saga Tabletop RPG, I've jumped back and forth between my old Storytelling Sciences System, and maybe licensing the Cypher System, D20, or similar. Because I'm a game design person, most of how I set up and tested Uroboros Saga, originally, was done with Storytelling Sciences. Before I wrote a single book, characters were made, and dice were rolled.

I really want to produce and publish a Tabletop RPG. It's very high on the bucket list, and I've always got a handful in the works. Retroclone Classic Dungeons & Dragons has been a passion of mine, since playing the game in the 1980s. I'm trying to pull all my projects toward some more common ground, so the work I do gets pushes them all forward.

That's not always possible, but I'm trying.

I've sort of given up thinking I'll ever finish Uroboros Saga, and move on. The media isolation from certain Science Fiction movies, books, and so forth felt necessary in the beginning. Uroboros Saga is enough it's own thing, I don't need to worry so much about it getting tainted by other things.

I'm definitely going to get caught up on all the science fiction I've missed in the last eight years. Recommendations welcome.

I'm mostly writing this to let people that Uroboros Saga is still a thing. A thing I intend to make more of. And, to thank my readership for their patience.

[blackfemmecharacterdependency]

12. The Apex is Falling

This is the longest chapter of this story at a whopping  6819 words. I hated making a chapter that long for this fic in this fandom, but like... I just couldn’t break it anywhere that I thought about. So, sorry about that bit, folks. I don’t know if anything here is necessarily triggering, mostly just sort of sad and troubling.

Previous

The Monroes did not appreciate the amount of retroactive damage control that they had to do behind Grace’s former behavior, however. As it was, they did spin the story in order to paint Grace as a girl who felt threatened and needed to defend herself. They were mostly disappointed that she lied to them and that her lies weren’t buried. If she was going to lie, she could have at least made sure that it never saw the light of day! Her mother wasn’t currently speaking to her and her father was being as extreme in his rules as ever before. She had embarrassed them. She embarrassed them at the Corn Dog Express, and CERTAINLY when the assault allegations arose. She didn’t see the need to point out that the first was actually Simon, not her, because her mother had been very vocal about how stupid it was to leave her wallet behind, “As though Simon ever has money!”

It wasn’t worth explaining to her that Simon usually carried her small items in his pockets when they were together and she had presumed that he had her wallet. It wasn’t worth speaking at all, because her mother was so infuriated with her that after she completed her obligatory bitching about things, she began her unscheduled silent treatment. Nothing that Grace would say would matter until Mrs. Monroe deemed her worthy of regaining her attention. 10 year old grace would have fallen apart. Soon to be 16 year old Grace just took her verbal berating with a grain of salt and the mental note that Simon was on her shitlist.  

Their birthdays weren’t too far from each other’s. Simon’s fell towards the end of August and hers was about a month later, so they generally combined birthday efforts, and this year, they were turning 16. That meant a lot of big things for Simon. He was going to be liberated from his parent’s guardianship, he had his permit and only needed to take a test for his license, he would be old enough to work a real job, and all of those combined things meant that he would legally be an adult. This is extremely important to him. 

Children had no power. They couldn’t make money. They couldn’t legally drive. They couldn’t find a home and live by their own rules. It was an excruciating reality, and no matter how much he tried to prove his worth in the real world, as long as he had no legality to his adulthood, people didn’t take him as seriously as they should have. He didn’t like that. This was the first birthday that he was looking forward to since his childhood. 

Grace wasn’t as stoked about hers. She was so disinterested that she wanted them to have their birthday party closer to his birthday, instead. Her mother absolutely shot that idea down. She was going to have a very big and deliberate Sweet 16 party and was going to invite every single famous person that she now knew, along with the most upstanding students at the academy, and the children of politicians and entrepreneurs that the Monroes respected and valued. Simon didn’t mind waiting a month for a party like that, at all. Plus, it would give him time to maybe gather up the nerve to ask her out, officially. Her birthday was technically September 23 at 6:45 am, but the party was on Saturday the 22, and would still be happening at Midnight, which would be considered her birth date. So, he wanted to ask her then. He wanted to get her a gift. Not to add to her hope chest like all of her tribute trinkets, but something that would show that she was his. He had ideas for years. A lot of them, very expensive, ergo impossible. Some of them, complicated, ergo improbable. He wanted to do something that he had the power or skill to do, that was also a worthy offering to her of himself and his emotions, and still have it be something that she would also enjoy.

He was fortunate that as her long term right hand, he had the power of the Apex on his side. The rich kids at school who lived for her were more than willing to contribute to his cause and her girl sect went above and beyond being helpful in arranging things and assisting in his planning process. The main mission was complete secrecy. He didn’t want anyone involved to speak with anyone else about their role or donation. He wanted it to be a surprise to her and everyone else. He wanted to woo her in the most memorable way and to create something so magnificent that there wouldn’t be a single doubt in her mind that here was a man who wanted her more than anything. He smiled to himself thinking about his elaborate gesture.

“What are you smiling about?” She asked, looking up from her book. He blushed, thinking about her wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him on the lips, then looking at him with love in her eyes, ready to be everything to him. “Simon, really. What the heck are you thinking about right now?”

“Being happy,” he said. She narrowed her eyes and stared at him suspiciously. “What are you thinking?”

“That I have never heard my Simon speak about being happy in the almost 6 years that I’ve known him, so you’re obviously one of his little figures, but life size and able to communicate… and I don’t doubt that Simon has the smarts to create such a thing, but the funding… I’d be confused on where he got the funding.” He let out a little chuckle and leaned back in his seat. He was working on his assignment again, but he was still smiling to himself. Weird.

That wasn’t the only weird thing that he did lately. He began to keep himself up more. It wasn’t that he didn’t take care of himself, but he was more of a functional, hygienic than the extra care that he was now taking into stuff like his eyebrows and fingernails. He used to just either let them grow out of sheer apathy, clip them out of annoyance that he’d let them get too long, or chipped them in his day to day and bit off the crooked parts when he did. Now, he seemed like he was giving himself manicures. His nails looked healthy and cared for. His cuticles seemed nourished and smooth. And he smelled amazing now. Like, not like he picked up whatever antiperspirant was cheapest when he passed the aisle, but like he was making attempts to be fresh and clean and… attractive! “OH MY GOD, YOU’VE got a crush on somebody!” she said.

She saw a shimmer in his gray eyes and she laughed and looked around. “Who is it? I know that she’s Apex. You’d never look twice at a null. BUT… I have no idea what your type is. I remember whenever you would get all clammy whenever that redhead girl came around.”

“What? No I didn't. I would always get nauseated, because she always had on so much perfume that it unsettled my stomach and made me feel like I’d break out in hives.”

“So… not her, then.” She studied around the campus. “I’m gonna find out who she is.”

“What will you say to her?” He asked, and rested his tongue on his upper canines as he smiled at her.

“Hi, I’m Grace. I’m sure you know me as one half of Grace and Simon, also known as The Apex. I’m here to tell you that it’s your lucky day, because Simon himself has his eyes set on you. I strongly recommend that you give him a chance. I can’t make you, but it would really be in your best interest, because he’s an amazing guy… And if you hurt him, I’ll fucking kill you. Hahaha… Just Kidding! Unless you hurt him, and then I’m not.” 

He started laughing and something settled in his eyes as he looked at her. She stopped smiling, slowly, and collected her things, “I should get to dance so that I'll have enough time to tie these locs up. Are you… gonna tell her, ever? Or, is it just something that you like having in your mind for nobody else to taint?”

“Will you stop looking for her if I answer this?”

“Scouts honor.”

“You’re not a scout.”

“Half of me is,” she said and gestured towards him. He laughed again. This was the cheeriest that Simon had been.

“Okay, well… I’m definitely going to eventually speak to her about it.” His smile was very warm and he looked… genuinely happy. Like, she couldn’t remember ever seeing him so much so, not even when they were doing great fun things together. It was like he had some sort of peace that he found. She HOPED that she wasn’t going to ruin that for him.

“Well… What if… she’s not interested in you?” She asked, trying not to look right at him as she asked.

“Wouldn’t it be in her best interest to give me a chance, since I’m such an amazing guy?” He asked back, still smiling, still content.

“I did say that.” She nodded her head. “And I did mean it, but what if… she doesn’t, you know, think of you in THAT way?” Now, his smile faltered and he thought for a while. She wondered if he was registering what she was trying to go around saying.

“Why wouldn’t she?” he asked, concerned. She moved her legs nervously, dancing around and he stood up, grabbing his things to walk with her. “What’s wrong with me?” He asked.

She shook her head, “Nothing. But, what if… well… what if she’s like me?” He looked confused. “Like… What if she never thinks about stuff like that? What if she once kissed the person that she loved more than anything and it only registered to her as something soft and wonderful… but nothing like the way that people describe kisses are supposed to be? What if she thinks that you’re the best thing on earth, but… she just doesn’t feel certain things? Would you still want her, if she can’t want you in the same way?”

“Are you… coming out as something, Grace?”

“I guess so. I’m just… I guess with you moving on to other relationships, I’m wondering where I stand.”

“There will never be anyone that comes before you…”

“That’s a bad start, if you like somebody else, Simon. But, that’s not what I meant. I mean, I know that you have certain feelings. I’ve seen it. I don’t have those. Someday, when our friendship isn’t enough to fulfill your connection with someone, I guess, I’m wondering if you think that somebody like you would be able to connect with somebody like me… when I can’t reciprocate everything.”

“Are you… Like… Asexual?”

She shrugged her shoulders. “I’ve never had to think about it before. The only guy that I’ve ever been close to has always been my best friend. I’m just warning you. Fake relationship that we’re having in front of my dad aside, you should ask yourself if you would still want this girl if she was… like me.” 

“I would… I do,” he said nodding his head.

“You didn’t even think about it.”

“I don’t have to think about it. I’d want you, no matter what.”

She playfully elbowed him, “You mean “her.” 

He caught her elbow and her attention when he did so. “Could you? Being… the way you are? Do you want to have somebody who wants you?”

“I don’t want to be alone, and I have feelings, if that’s what you're asking. Just… not the ones that people our age tend to seek out. I could absolutely fall in love with a wonderful person and want to spend all of my time with them and be as fulfilled as somebody can be… But, I already have that. I guess it just now occurred to me that getting older maybe means losing that, because you’ll eventually want and need more, and I don’t know if I’ll be able to deliver what needs you might have. Or the next person. Or the next...” Her eyes were a little damp. 

Simon heard what she said, and it even made sense to him on some level. However, looking at her, with the school approved scarf tying her locs up and forward, her face all natural and flawless, save the tears trying to form in her eyes, and her long, perfect legs bouncing nervously just thinking about losing him… What she was saying just didn’t really matter to him. It couldn’t matter. What she was saying meant that he might have to move on from his soul mate. He didn’t WANT to hear that part. He heard the part that did matter to him.

I could absolutely fall in love with a wonderful person and want to spend all of my time with them and be as fulfilled as somebody can be.. I already have that.

He smiled and wrapped an arm around her. She sank into his side, as usual and they kept walking.

.

The number 16 was lit up in the sky with fireworks. It was set to be there all night. If it began to fade, the paid pyrotechnician would release another. The attire was “Heavenly Extravaganza,” and they were calling it her “Celestial Sixteen,” instead of “sweet.” All of the hired help were dressed in white, silver, and gold gaudy Victorian styled costume, and Mrs. Monroe literally had a set built in their ballroom, to have a tower upon which she and Mr. Monroe could sit on “heavenly thrones.” Her Queen of Heaven outfit was much like something you might see in a very high budget film about a royal queen, and her husband’s suit matched. The Monroes and Simon were dressed in gold, with jewelry and sparkles.

Grace and Simon had both been taken to a styling center. Their outfits, hair, body, and things that Simon wouldn’t have even thought about were all surrendered to Mrs. Monroe’s team of professionals to have them be flawless for their entry. Simon was listed as Grace’s escort, but her mother had worked very hard to make sure that they had the matching attire she had for this vision of hers, and that there was no possibility that they forgot to do anything, if left to get themselves ready. Grace was more used to this than Simon was (even for the school dances that he always attended with Grace, he was styled, but generally took care of himself besides that). He didn’t usually have to do a spa day and detox, and sophisticated beauty treatments. He liked it though. 

Simon felt like a king. Grace felt like a doll.

She hated these appointments. Sure, she felt wonderful afterwards, but that was typically short lived once she had to get prepared by the team. She was pressed into a dress and standing for the time it took to steam it to be certain that there were no wrinkles, then getting placed into the vehicle - tonight a white limousine covered in bling crystals, and driven to the estate, where all of her Apex fans would be clustered outside, but barricaded (Simon convinced her mother to sell tickets to stand outside of the property and watch Grace come down the red carpet).

The sun had not yet set and Grace could see countless faces that had no real characteristics, except for lipstick prints on their faces that they had their friends kiss on or drew on themselves or something, in varying degrees of red (none of which were Apex Red), and inexpensive formal attire. She was much better at remembering attire than faces, and she didn’t know any of these fans, so it was lipstick marks and public school prom gowns that she and Simon walked down, towards the party, where Apex members that Simon hand selected were allowed to stand on the sides and receive them without barricades (guards were nearby). 

Simon felt like royalty. Grace felt like a spectacle.

Simon had been to Monroe events before. This topped everything! Mrs. Monroe had allowed him to collaborate with stylists on his attire, and they customized things based upon some of his wishes and on the design of Grace’s gown. He was allowed to be behind the scenes and work with planners for various details and things. 

Grace hadn’t been the least bit interested. She never was and quite frankly was a little annoyed that Simon was so into it, but she didn’t press too hard, since she knew he liked setting up scenes for his figures and stuff and guessed that this was all similar for him. She ragged on him about it a little bit, but got bored with it, since he paid her very little attention.

After that, she spent the party planning time writing music and working on songs. Mrs. Monroe wanted her to learn a dance for the party, but she shrugged her shoulders and said, “Simon and I can just do the waltz we did freshman year.” Simon looked at her like she was out of her mind.

“I don’t remember that dance!” he said, laughing uneasy.

“I didn’t say Simon and you, I said you need to learn a dance,” Mrs. Monroe told her. Grace had her tongue stuck out, thinking as she wrote down notes on sheet paper and hummed, with her mother and Simon’s voices barely registering to her. “Grace!” She snapped her head up and the woman shook her own head and said, “Simon, handle her,” before walking off, heels clacking on the floor. 

Grace laughed and imitated in her exaggerated British accent that she used to mock her mother, “Simon, handle her.” But, Simon didn’t laugh along or join in. Instead, he clasped his hands together and bit his lip. “Oh, what? Don’t tell me that you’re about to start sticking up for my mom, too?”

“Noooo… But, the party is very important. Your dad worked really hard to fix the incidents surrounding your name…”

“Which were brought on by your explosion in the mall…” She reminded him. He bypassed the reminder.

“And now, we have to focus on the leader of the Apex being worshiped, and your reputation being restored. You said that your image is important to you. Your mom is literally bringing your image into the heavens. Have you SEEN the Black Madonna piece she had made from her delivery photo?”

“That wasn’t a delivery photo. I was days old when they did that photo shoot. A team made her look like a beautiful glowing new mother. There ARE no delivery photos, because she, and I quote, “Actually somehow looked ugly while ruining her body with my arrival and didn’t want anyone in the world, not even me to ever see her less than stunning.” She destroyed photos from the actual birth.”

“Okay… But, did you see the artwork?”

“I see that you seem to be trusting the adults. We don’t trust adults. We don’t listen to our parents.”

“You listen to your parents all the time!”

“I mean, yeah, when I have to, but like… YOU don’t have to!”

He sighed and sat down next to her. “You’re about to be an adult, Grace.”

“Hell no, I’m not. I’m about to be 16, and instead of doing some cool shit with my best friend, I’m gonna be hosting a knock off Met Gala with literally a ballroom FULL of strangers. I don’t know any of the people on the guest list, and I certainly don’t know people who were exploited by you and my mom just to see me get out of a shiny ass limo and walk.” She tossed her music book aside and touched his ponytail, “Wouldn’t you rather we went through the motions, then got out of the limo, gave the kids on the sidelines their little tickets’ worth, then I just kick off my shoes and we take off running to go camping in the woods and play Chubby Bunny?”

He scoffed and threw his head back. “So, whenever I try to defend your honor, we’re not kids anymore, but whenever I try to help fix your image that you blame me for messing up, then you want to be 12 again?”

“No, when you react violently to a simple mistake, that’s childish to me, but it's perfectly fine to say a big screw you to these societal pressures and have fun with my best friend, for my birthday!”

“How do you know this won’t be fun, Grace? Several people, including me, have worked hard to make this a memorable night for you… And you don’t even seem to care.” He got up and grabbed his backpack. She felt horrible. Maybe she was a childish brat, after all. 

“Simon…” 

“I have college exams coming up,” he said, softly. That was his version of a goodnight.

“Simon, I’m sorry. You’ve been working really hard to make up for the corn dog thing. It isn’t your fault that my parents are still punishing me. Not directly, anyway. I should have noticed that you were putting in all of this planning work for me, for us. I just… You don’t have to do it. I’m happiest the days that we just get to spend time together. I feel like we never get to anymore. Like the old days, when it was just you and me. I guess for me, getting older means losing everything that I consider precious and the closer my birthday gets, and the more adult you act, I just… I don’t know. It’s a lot.” She hugged herself. “But, you have a point. This will help my image and I should be grateful that everyone is working so hard. Especially you.” She kissed him on the cheek and he turned an instant bright shade of red, overmatched only by the Apex Red print she left there. He took a deep breath and gave her an affirming nod. 

So, she sucked it up and decided to be here tonight and gave it her all.

There was dancing, mingling, her mother announcing things over a speaker system, from a hidden mic attached to her person, and a presentation of gifts - something that Grace just knew Simon was responsible for. It was like whenever kids gave tribute to her at school and he’d tell them, “All right, you know the drill, line up and present tribute as your dues to be able to call yourselves members of the Apex.” 

But, tonight, there were Apex members with Simon’s kiss… She recognized his lip prints, as she noted tonight… lined up, very military in their movements, holding gifts in one hand and their fists into the air with the other. Grace smiled, in confusion, glanced at Simon, who was seated on the other side of the tête-à-tête with her. He was looking at the display. Simon felt like the world was about to become his. Grace was frightened that hers was about to fall apart…

Because with every presentation, every declaration that each kid seemed to be making on Simon’s behalf, traveling their memories of friendship with gifts that were brought as symbols of sentimental moments that she and Simon shared… she realized that this wasn’t just some tribute from Simon for her birthday. This was a very bold declaration!

Every gift was beautiful and brought up some of her fondest memories of them, and when Simon knelt in front of her and presented her with the final and most important gift - a charm bracelet, with charms of each of those gifts in his presentation, with an inscription “The Apex is Forever,” and in front of ALL THESE PEOPLE, friends, family, strangers, fans, celebrities, hired help, and whatever phones and cameras were present, he said, “The only thing that makes sense is that we’re together. Will you accept this as a token from my heart and take me as your man?”

What did that even MEAN? Was this for her father’s benefit? Shouldn’t he have discussed something so extreme with her? And what was she supposed to do with all of these eyes on her? With his eyes on her? 

“Gray Eyes…” She was sweating and about to cry and breathing hard… “You’ve always been my man, Man...” she said. There were cheers from just about everyone, except her parents. Her mother threw her father a displeased look, but the man just looked right back at her with a note of satisfaction. Her mother got up from her throne and went down the winding staircase of the tower to leave. Her father stood and thanked everyone for coming out to Grace and Simon’s 16th birthday party. 

Grace went to go find her mother as Apex members got out of her way, random strangers congratulated her on her new relationship, and friends crowded Simon to celebrate that they pulled it off. Simon barely noticed her leave, but when she paused in the doorway and looked at him, they made eye contact. He looked slightly confused, but when she turned to continue her exit, he continued talking to Apex.

“Mom?” Grace called, knocking on the boudoir door as she entered. The woman had already gotten out of the dress, but the elaborate hive of a hairdo, graced with celestial embellishments would take longer. Grace was shocked that the dress didn’t take longer, but she realized when she picked it up to avoid trying to cross over it in her own, that Mrs. Monroe had ripped it off. “Are you okay?”

“He isn’t right for you,” Her mother said, staring at the reflection behind her in her vanity. “You and I both know it. You think that I don’t pay attention, but I do. He isn’t right for you, and you’ll regret this.”

“I thought that you wanted me with my best friend. It was Daddy who wanted me with someone in my class.” Now, he’s paying Simon to make me a kept woman and suddenly my best friend isn’t right for me? “Did you two switch roles?”

The woman rolled her eyes, “Your father is settling, because he thinks that a man can fix anything. Forget about the fact that women historically have been doing all of the heaviest lifting without any of the credit, whether it’s been in the workplace or in the home. The driver told us that there was something wrong with you, and we didn’t listen. We knew that we raised you to make good decisions, with morals and intelligence. The moment you introduced me to Simon, I saw that he was a bad decision. But, you talked to us, and we heard you out. This was your best friend and you wanted us to treat him like someone you cared about, and so we did. You never ask for much. It was one small task to take an unfortunate child into some of our charity. Now, look at you… some miserably defected boy’s golden goose.” She snatched up her makeup removing cloth and shook her head, “Your father is settling. You’re settling, and you’ll regret it.”

Grace grabbed a foot stool and set it next to her mother, “I didn’t know what to say. I had to say something and I couldn’t just shoot him down in front of all those people. The public would burn me at the stake for that, and Simon would be hurt, and Daddy would be displeased. I don’t even think you would have liked that.”

“Why do you think he CHOSE tonight to do this?” She asked. “You think that he just thought this was the right time to show you that he cared? He wanted an audience. He wanted to put you on the spot. He wanted to control the situation so that he could have some control over your answer! Don’t be fooled, Grace. Simon is a smart boy. He knows who you are and how you are. He knew what to say and do to get you to say yes and you fell for it.”

Grace was getting fed up with her mother’s accusations. She thought the woman had grown to like Simon, at least. She was speaking about him like he was still just some shaggy boy in a shabby suit to her. “He didn’t purposefully put me in an uncomfortable position, Mom. Simon may have a lot of problems, we ALL do… but he does love me and he would never do something to make me stressed out on purpose or try to dominate me!” 

The woman finally actually turned her face to Grace, and Grace would never forget the look of certainty in her eyes whenever she said, “Simon doesn’t even know what love is, and neither do you. What in this world would make you think that he is able to give you something that he has never been given before, himself?”

“Because, I know that I give him my love. He knows it too...” Grace said in a low voice, unsure of the truth in that, even as she said it. 

Her mother scoffed and turned back to the mirror, a bemused partial smile on her features. “Whatever it is that you two give each other… You’ll regret it, Grace. Mark my words. I haven’t changed my position at all. You should still make sure that you build a life with your best friend. My opinion is that Simon simply isn’t that. I don’t know if he ever was. You just regarded him as such because you had someone who you could control for once. But, he’s grown out of that, poppet. You didn’t even notice when he cut his strings and tied them onto you, did you? Of course not. Because, you love him. Because he’s your friend. Love makes you stupid. Friendship makes you weak. And you let him make you both.”

On principle alone, Grace was going to take her relationship with Simon as far as it could go. Just to prove that her mother was wrong. “Well, you didn’t seem to mind him whenever you needed my strings pulled.” 

Her mom was wiping off makeup. “I minded. I just knew that I have more control over him these days than I do over you. Simon may have surpassed your tactics, but the world will burn before he’s ever able to match my skills. You’ve just gone so wrong that you don’t know which way to go. Maybe you do need professional help.” She sighed, “It’s sad. You had such potential, and you’re going to end up just like me. The trophy of someone who wanted the best, only to hoard your greatness...”

She left the boudoir, angrily and found Simon and her father on the terrace, watching the guests be led out of the event. “Hey,” she said. They both turned around to see her.

“I should go find my wife,” her father said and clapped Simon on the shoulder. 

“She’s not happy,” Grace warned, under her breath. Her father hugged her and gave her a soft happy birthday. She wondered if Simon hadn’t told him that would be a nice present. That just made it feel… less than, but the entire night had been unpleasant to some degree. Or, if she now was deserving of his affection because she had found herself a good man to tame her. That just made her feel sick.

When they were alone, she stared at Simon, trying to forget the things her mother accused him of, but… something had felt off about him for a while. It wasn’t his damn eyebrows, or his hygiene, or anything like that. There was something different about him. Something that made her uncomfortable. Something that she felt like needed to be addressed, but never wanted to, because it might put them in a bad place. 

But, those were her friend’s eyes. Gray eyes, that always looked at her with fondness, from the very first time they landed on her. “Simon… What you did tonight…” He smiled. He was extremely impressed with how well he pulled it all off! She had no idea that he had worked so hard for the most spectacular gift to the Apex ever - official confirmation of Grace and Simon, their OTP, their royalty. “You shouldn’t have.” His smile faded. Her face was stern and she didn’t seem happy.

“The Internet will talk about this night forever.”

“The Internet wasn’t in that room tonight! The Internet wasn’t put on the spot, in front of all of those people. The Internet didn’t just have their mother scold them for being stupid and weak enough to have a friend and to love that friend. You put me in a really uncomfortable position, Simon. You had the chance to tell me about this whenever we talked about how important this party was to you, and you didn’t say anything.”

“I didn’t say anything because it was a surprise… A surprise that I take it ‘the impossible to please Grace Monroe’ was not pleased with.” 

“I get why you felt like you had to impress my dad, but…”

“Your dad?” He laughed, but his eyes looked anything but amused, “Your dad? You think I did that for some empty promise to your dad?”

“Why else would you do it?”

“BECAUSE I LOVE YOU!” He shouted at her, almost right in her face. She was stunned. It was the most contradictory way of saying it that she had heard and she had heard her parents tell her this before with not the slightest hint of warmth or kindness. This… was actually terrifying. 

He must’ve realized that he frightened her, because he reeled himself in and placed prayer hands over his mouth as he waited for her next words. She couldn’t find any, so he broke the silence. “I didn’t mean to yell. You just… sound like you didn’t mean it when you said yes to me. You sound like you're backing out. You sound like you’re making excuses, when you could have just told me that you don’t want me.”

Her eyes were wide with disbelief. All of those things were true, but he was saying them like they were unreasonable, considering the atmosphere that she was faced with, not to mention this completely alarming reaction to even the possibility of those facts. “Simon… Do you remember the conversation we had about the girl you liked?”

“I remember the conversation we danced around about our feelings for each other,” he said. “I remember that you said that I’m amazing and that I deserve a chance. I remember you said, “I could absolutely fall in love with a wonderful person and want to spend all of my time with them and be as fulfilled as somebody can be.. I already have that.” I remember knowing that you were afraid to lose me, and now you won’t. I don’t know what’s been up with you. That conversation was the confirmation that I needed, to know that you know that we belong together!”

“I told you that I didn’t think that I could give you what you might expect out of a relationship...” Her heart was racing as she choked the words out, not wanting to upset him, but unable to stop herself from reminding him.

“Grace, I don’t care about your sexuality. That’s a part of you and I respect that. I just get sick and tired of us pretending that there’s not something between us.”

“I’ve never pretended that…”

“Then what’s the problem? You don’t really love me?”

“I do!”

“Good! We’re on the same page again!” He collected her into a hug and she started crying on his shoulder. 

Simon felt like… She gets it. She knows how I feel, I know how she feels, and everything is right in the world again. Grace had never felt more alone, misunderstood, or confused… but, at least she still had Simon. 

They could work through these feelings. She was obviously just projecting the doubts her mother had planted. This was Simon. Her Simon. Her friend… her man? That thought didn’t even sound right, but that’s what… what was happening? She stood and stared at his face. He was watching her suspiciously, like he was looking for a sign of her doubts from moments before. She had to do something that she had done before, but had never really thought about the fact that she had to do this with Simon… she plastered on a fake smile and cupped his face. 

He sighed and rested his lips against her forehead. “My Grace,” he whispered, holding her tight. She softened, willing herself not to feel tension with Simon. She wrapped her arms around him and rested against him. It didn’t feel quite right, but she knew these arms, this scent, the rhythm of this heartbeat, and that was what she guessed she needed, to deal with… whatever the rest of that stuff was.

.

“Since you brought it up, Grace… What do you think is the significance of that talk today?” 

Grace came out of her memories of she and Simon to look at the psychiatrist. Every time she pulled herself out of a memory of Simon and the Apex, she was faced with this woman, and she was brought back to reality - the real world, where Simon was no longer in her life and she was the most trapped she had ever been. 

The large glasses, large afro, the fullest lips and a wide gap between her teeth always reminded Grace of one of those cheap pieces of Black art in the beauty supply shop… but the doctor always was dressed in a business suit and had a blank facial expression. She didn’t smile or look sad or even seem to react to anything Grace said. 

That made it easier for Grace to confide in her about everything that went down between her and Simon before she landed herself in this place. That made her more open about the things he’d done to punish her, as well as all of the things she did that made her feel like maybe she deserved some of his punishment. Everyday she told herself that she didn’t, but when the person you’ve loved more than anything for nearly half of your life turns against you, turns everyone against you… “Maybe… Maybe I messed up. I should have just told him that I couldn’t see a future for us and that I would always be his friend and nothing else. I knew that he cared about me. I should have been more direct in telling him that couldn’t happen the way that he wanted.” The doctor blinked and nodded once. “And now, I’ve said something wrong to you.”

“It isn’t that you’ve said anything wrong, Grace. You spoke your true feelings, and that’s what you’re supposed to do here. It’s never wrong of you to admit your feelings. Now that you’ve stated them, I can help you sort through them again. Whenever you spoke with Simon that day - the day that you tried to bring back to his remembrance on the night of the party, did you tell him any lies?”

“No. I was completely honest with him about everything.”

“Why do you feel like you should have lied instead? How would you suppose it might have been a benefit to either of you, for you to lie to him?”

“Because, Simon couldn’t handle my truth. I was supposed to protect him. The people in his life always abandoned him. I was the one person who he thought he could depend on, and when I could have protected him and just told him that we were friends, and that was it, I told him that I loved him and had a fulfilling relationship with him.”

“Why do you think that a lie might have protected Simon?” 

Grace shrugged her shoulders, “I guess that doesn’t make sense. But, my relationship with Simon never did. When we were little, I could always tell when something was bothering him and I always tried to smooth him over. I always made it right. Then… we got older and I noticed less and less. I realized that a lot of the stuff that I said and did to keep Simon docile were probably the same kinds of things that made him so aggressive?” Grace needed the doctor to tell her whether this sounded right or not. She hardly knew anymore. What she did know was that when she was 16, she lost her best friend, and it took her two more years to even fully see that.

Next

[kainumbernine009]

I literally cannot do anything else until I get this out.

I’m... really not okay.

And when I say that, I’m not mentally unstable. I say that because I’m tired of waiting on empty promises, I’m tired of never having money in our account, I’m tired of living in a fucking city where half of the white people fucking worship the ground Trump walks on, and where most of the gay community has so much messy drama that it’s worse than middle school. And I went to a rough middle school.

I never talk about my past, because I don’t like to. It sucked. HARD. Being and only child in my family was nothing less than torture, especially as a closeted queer person. We grew up in the white Christian part of Nashville that dominated Music Row in the 90′s and early 2000′s. I played basketball with Alan Jackson’s daughter, and being around famous people was just no big deal. But, my parents decided to leave Nashville after my dad lost his job at TPAC, and we moved down south an hour to the town where the KKK got started (Pulaski, TN).

I had maybe two non-white people in my private Christian school growing up. I was never afraid of Black people, but my parents showed their racist asses quick when we moved there. The KKK has never left America, guys, no matter how many articles you read or studies you do. From 2005 to 2009 I saw a white town show its very worst to the Black community. I’ll never forget the first time I saw a march for “White Christians for Purity” the summer before Obama got elected. The disgust I felt inside was palpable. I had all kinds of friends in school, and I didn’t give TWO SHITS who they were or what they looked like... but I saw children my age, being brainwashed by their parents, that “white” is “right.”

Ever since then, I have been learning and growing about the issues of race. I remember my white classmates using the N word and getting away with it. I remember hearing about the principal at the high school punishing all the Black kids but not the white kids. I remember being invited to a church south of town that was a historically Black church, and how nice the ladies were to me for coming.

But I’ll never forget the racism that the religious groups promoted there, especially First Baptist Church and the 12 Tribes. I’ll never forget how FBC told me that my friend was going to Hell because she killed herself. I’ll never forget my mom telling me not to marry a Black man because of “impure genes.” I WILL NEVER FORGET THE INJUSTICES I SAW WHITE PEOPLE DOING TO BLACK PEOPLE THERE. NEVER.

And thank God, I have shaken the burden of religious guilt, but I still fight against this mentality. I live in a place that’s usually not even 10 minutes away from Trump-humping, sister-fucking, meth-addicted Confederate cunts in any direction. And we’re even closer to the rich white people who silently supported him, upset that their taxes would go up because of Biden.

And in the past four years since Trump got elected, I’ve gotten married, graduated college with honors, started my own photography business, and was making more than my husband there for a minute. I did my own taxes, marketing, editing, and everything. And then I came out as trans.

I lost everything.

I lost my studio. I lost friends. I had rumors started about me. I had people post hate messages on my wall. I had people at my drag shows tell others not to tip me, for whatever fucking reasons. I’ve had bosses give cis people jobs over me, and I’ve had government workers give me second looks when I hand them my license.

It. Fucking. Sucks. To. Live. Here. Like. This.

Oh yeah, did I mention I’m also a witch/medium? I’ve talked to dead people before and have told their relatives things I shouldn’t have known otherwise about their grandparents. Like, this information doesn’t even exist on Google. And I’m attuned to reiki. I’m always aware of what’s happening on at least SOME metaphysical level. This is a gift that I’ve had to go through life developing and learning about myself, with no one’s help but me.

I didn’t even know until I was an adult that I have autism and ADHD.

I’ve taken bullets from people who were about to kill themselves. I’ve yelled at 5th grade music classrooms for doing racist dance moves and appropriating Native Americans (I have a degree in Music Education K-12). I’ve consoled kids in classrooms who suddenly have panic attacks. AND I’ve told horny teenagers to stay in their fucking lane and respect the girls around them. I’ve apparently been an inspiration to those around me, but inspiration NOR exposure pays the bills. I’ve already had COVID, and so has my husband, but I knew that after graduating college that I would never have a fulfilling life being a music teacher in Tennessee’s public schools.

And now that we have COVID, and an orange, small-dicked, pedophilic, rape apologizing, dirty, crusty white president who STILL REFUSES TO CONCEDE, who is DIRECTLY RESPONSIBLE FOR HAVING HIS FOLLOWERS SEND DEATH THREATS TO MY FAMILY, I really don’t know what the fuck else to do other than go burn down all the houses I know of in North Georgia that belong to these Christian sex cult pedophiles and call it a day. My girlfriend unfortunately was born into one of those families, and I know just how bad it can get. In fact, her dad’s lawyer threatened me with blackmail earlier in November, so that was fun!

And now, on December 11, 2020, I’m still sitting here in the same fucking house, doing the same fucking things I’ve been doing all year - trying to get a job and failing horribly. I’M SICK AND TIRED OF THIS COVID BULLSHIT AND OUR INCOMPOTENT CUNT OF A PRESIDENT! And there’s only ever one other person I’ve ever called a cunt... my own mother.

I’ve lived in many places. I’ve met many different people. I’ve made mistakes, and have grown, but there’s one thing for damn sure that I always make sure to do, every single fucking day.

I ALWAYS try to do better.

In addition to this, I treat everyone with the same amount of respect, unless they have done something directly to me to negate that. If I know that someone believes in something that directly harms me or my family, I don’t even associate with them. I don’t spend my energy on things that don’t need it. And everyone else should, too.

The problem with some of y’all is that you care about the wrong things. Like will Becky text me back or did I get front row seats to that concert, or did I slave my life away to capitalism just so that I can own a Mercedes and have my friends jealous. I’ve had way too many dear death experiences to know that EVERY single fucking day is a gift. EVERY day.

I don’t want to be remembered first for the art I create. I want to be remembered for my character. I want to be remembered as the courageous person who never backed down in the face of adversity. But when you live in a place that already hates you and that is against you, that’s really fucking hard. Trust me. My marriage went from a cis straight passing couple to a white gay passing couple. I’ve seen how people’s attitudes changed around me as I transitioned. I know what it feels like to slowly lose a piece of your privilege you were born with.

So yeah, I kinda get a little fucking upset when I see people saying All Lives Matter, or when I see doctors refusing to treat trans patients in pandemics, or when I see cops YET AGAIN harassing Black people only a few blocks away from my house for no other reason than racism. And at this point, anyone who thinks they know me but only knows what people think they know about me can suck my entire ass and eat ten dicks. I don’t give a FUCK about who you are or what you’ve done. If you treat me or other people with no respect for no reason other than to be an asshole, you’re just plain shit. If you SERIOUSLY believe every little rumor and lie that someone tells about me before meeting me, fuck you AND the horse you rode in on.

What I can’t stand is people doing or saying things just to get a rise out of me or others. I thought we left petty shit in high school. Some of the people that “know” me really need to fucking grow up and grow a pair and either say what they want to my face, or stay mad. I’m tired of playing fucking petty games with y’all. We have a whole ass pandemic to solve.

So here’s the ultimatum... if you agree that Black Lives Matter and that queer people deserve basic human rights, EVEN THE ONES YOU HATE, then that’s the bare minimum to even be a decent person. If you can’t even do those things, then I don’t fucking know what else to say to you.

So NBC, maybe not have John Mulaney joke about my license debacle with my gold van on SNL, and Seth Meyers... maybe HIRE ME INSTEAD of Mulaney because clearly y’all don’t know about the south as much as I do? Oh, and that gazeebo joke with Lee University... I caught that. I may have autism, but I’m not a fucking idiot. I mean. I’m funny when I’m given the chance. And yeah, I’m on a watchlist, but who the fuck isn’t these days? At least all my secrets are out for the world to see, and I have a bangin’ tattoo.

I’m tired of everyone being like “omg, I’ve seen what he can do, it’s fantastic!” or “omg you’re so funny haha” and bragging on me and then NOT FUCKING HIRING ME. I’m TIRED of waiting on something that’s clearly at this point never coming.

I don’t even have testicles, and my balls are bigger than most of the cis men I have EVER met.

So, if you want to help me, or hire me, or get me out to an audition... I’ll be there. But until then, I’m so fucking MAD at some of these producers. Yeah, my mom is a cunt, but she worked in various forms of digital production from the 1980′s until she retired this year. She taught me SO MUCH about directing, writing, shooting, and more. I know how these things are supposed to run behind the scenes. I know what the fuck I’m doing, and I don’t take constructive criticism like a bitch. I actually WANT to be criticized, so I can do even better.

So PLEASE, for the love of Christ... y’all need to get your priorities together AND PLEASE STOP LEAVING ME OUT OF THE LOOP WITH THIS BULLSHIT. Grow a fucking pair and either call me, email me, or leave me alone. It’s really not that fucking hard. Looking at you, Lorne Michaels.

Oh and someone tell my husband what the fuck’s been going on because I’m tired of him gaslighting me about it.

[sleepychai-fics]

Road to Salvation ~ Chapter 2 - The Mall

(click for better quality)

Warnings: description of scars, guns (let me know if I’m missing anything)

Word Count: 4,542

Pronouns - Female

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters in BNHA. However, there are many OC’s in this fic that I’ve created. These OC’s belong to me and are specifically created for this fic. 

However, Mihoko Shinsou and Hajime Shinsou are NOT my oc’s. They are oc’s created by Keiid, who used to have tumblr but now uses twitter. Please keep that in mind.

Feedback is appreciated!

Some people call it home. Others call it a sanctuary away from home. It’s a shelter for all those in need. A place of security and protection. But everyone generally refers to it as The Mall, purely for what it once stood to be.

The structure itself is fairly large and takes up the shape of a simple square, standing five stories tall. It’s capacity is enough to cover 7 blocks of land, 10 if you count the surrounding car park. Despite its years of abandonment, it stands strong and intact. The few indicators of its abandonment are the weeds and mould that grow in between the cracks of the walls, the shattered windows that have been replaced with wood and the entryway that extends further than what it originally had been.

Kai walks a few steps ahead of you as the two of you approach the entrance. He opens the door for you, gesturing for you to go forward. With a playful scoff and a shake of your head, you walk past him.

As you enter the small area, someone with cherry blonde hair approaches you. “(Y/n)! Kai! You’re back!” They greet you happily, before their eyes set on top of Michi. “Oh. You’ve brought someone with you.”

You nod. “Don’t worry Kaede. He’s a class C.”

Kaede smiles. “Ok. I’ll let you take care of him then. Call for me if you need anything!”

“Will do!” Kai answers back as he once again opens the door for you, allowing you to step inside the larger complex.

On the outside, it looks run down and almost inhabitable. The inside has a whole different outlook.

It’s much cleaner than expected, courtesy of most of the habitants that reside within the mall. The first floor stands as a common space. Barrels of fire scatter throughout the area, a few people hovering over each one. Store spaces on the first floor have been transformed into either kitchen areas or have been cleared out for the purpose of social meeting places.

The above floors were built as balconies around the structure, with a couple of bridges spanning across each one. So even from the first floor, you could look up and see the worn down roof of the building. It was an open and respected design, a representation of the generalised tone of the area.

Each floor had a purpose. The first floor was a common space, as well as a cooking area. The second floor stood as an area for training, both combat and quirk control. Although, the more destructive quirks were trained outside in the parking lot. The third floor, a highly secured floor, was dedicated to storage of supplies. The fourth floor, another highly secured floor, is allocated as the sleeping quarters.

Finally, there’s the fifth floor. It’s hardly used, hence why it’s dubbed as the ‘silent floor’. You go there to have time to yourself when things become overwhelming. It’s also used as a meeting place to discuss things such as finances and security measures. If no one can find you on the other floors, bets are you’ll be found on the fifth floor.

You stride across the floor along with Kai, and every person you pass by shines you a smile and a warm greeting. Children cheer and dance around you briefly, giggling as they greet you. Comments such as “you’re back!” and “we missed you!” along with various others flutter into the atmosphere. Although one comment catches everyone's attention.

“(Y/n) has someone with her!”

There’s a momentary period of silence from everyone around you as they peer up at you and notice Michi attached to your hip. You feel Michi flinch as a result. His grip tightens around you as he nuzzles his face further into your neck. As a reassurement, you thread your fingers through his hair.

It takes a second longer before everyone returns to their previous activity. The children that had once surrounded you had rushed off to play tag.

You continue your journey, trekking up the few flights of stairs and broken escalators that lead up to the fourth floor. Every floor you ascend to gets quieter and quieter.

By the time you reach the third floor, another person sidles up to you.

“Welcome back.”

With a glance to your side, you smile.

“It’s good to be back.”

Dabi smiles and pats your shoulder, matching his pace with yours as you climb the final flight of stairs.

At a first glance, Dabi isn’t the best to look at, especially in the eyes of a young child. Scars as a result of third-degree burns litter across his skin, a bright red and pink in colour. One particular scar spreads all across his neck and even links up to a small patch on his right cheek. He dons a loose fitting shirt, accompanied by a thin dark jacket. The jeans he wears are ripped at the knees and torn at the cuffs. They’re thin, and look to provide barely any warmth

“I can see why you’re a bit late.” He looks at Michi with a soft smile. Michi peeks out once again at the new voice. Upon taking his features in, he flinches back to hide his face. Dabi sighs softly.

“I’m going to go to put this into storage.” Kai gestures to the bag.

“Oh! I nabbed a few people as well so you’ll need to put that with the safe.”

Kai nods in return. “Will do. Night.”

You and Dabi both bid him goodnight as you split off at the top of the stairs. Kai heads up another flight of stairs whilst the three of you turn towards what used to be stores.

The stores had been cleared out as bedrooms. Just under 200 stores varying in sizes and the capacity of people that sleep in them. Each ‘bedroom’ had at least 12 sets of bedding laid out - bedding being defined as a low-quality blanket and a slim pillow. The security of the floor included at least 30 individuals who walked around certain areas, occasionally peeking into each room.

“Yusu contacted me.” Dabi informs you as the two of you turn left. “They have strong belief that there will be violent gang activity happening in a nearby district.”

A scowl sets on your face. “Do you have the coordinates?”

He nods in response, holding up a small phone. “They sent it a few minutes ago. Will you take the job?”

Without hesitation, you answer. “Of course I will.”

You walk into the fourth store you come across. It’s fairly big compared to the others, 20 kids able to sleep somewhat comfortably with a few other adults among them. The sky had just grown past dusk, so not too many have retired to bed, leaving the space fairly empty except for a few kids.

With quiet steps, you walk towards the back of the bedroom, Dabi closely following suit. You kneel down next to one of the beds and gently caress Michi away from your body.

Michi jolts and whines in response, hands clinging to your shirt. “D-Don’t leave me!”

A string of hushed words come from you in an attempt to soothe Michi. “It’s okay Michi. I won’t ever leave you.”

“Bu-but you said you were going somewhere!” His words are muffled by the way he buries his face into your chest. You can feel patches of wet warmth where he lays as a result of his shedding tears.

Your hands rest on Michi’s elbows, gently prying him away from you enough to look at him. Tears pool in the boy's eyes but you’re quick to wipe them away. With a sad smile, you speak. “Remember what I said to you? About being a vigilante?” Michi nods, lips quivering. “Do you know what a vigilante is?”

His eyes glance towards the ground. “Someone who breaks the rules.”

“Yes. But I’m a good vigilante. I break the rules to help people.” A hand comes to cup Michi’s cheeks, coercing him to look at you.

“So you’re a hero?”

It shouldn’t make your heart beat painfully, but it does. It hurts having to tell a child this. The thought of having to tell such a young innocent child the truth of the world hurts. But it’s the malls’ duty to be honest about the world. Even if they’re small children.

You sigh. “Yes. But not to other heroes. I don’t have a license like they do, so that means I can’t use my quirk to help people.”

“So why do you do it if you’re not allowed to?”

Another painful heart beat.

“Because those heroes don’t like to save people like us.”

It’s painful to hear him sniffle. “Th-they don’t? Why don’t they like to save us?”

Your fingers gently card through his hair and you smile at the way he leans into your touch. “They don’t think we deserve it, or they don’t want to be seen around people like us.”

“Why not?”

You sigh. “The answer might make you upset now. If you want, I can tell you. But if you’re really upset now, I can tell you another day when you ask me again.”

One of the few rules of the mall include brutal honesty. No matter the age. If someone asks a question, the answer will be honest. It works a bit differently for those who are traumatised. If mental health is at risk with the honest answer, then they’ll be told as such. They make the decision themselves if they still want an honest answer.

Michi is hesitant to nod his head. “O-Ok. B-But you have to promise to come back!”

You smile in relief, holding out a pinky towards him. “I will. I promise.” Michi takes the pinky with his own. Running on instinct, you bring your lips to press gently on Michi’s forehead. “I won’t be long. I’ll be back in a couple of hours. Dabi will be here with you.”

Michi takes another glance at Dabi, who kneels down beside you. He simply smiles softly at Michi, his expression nothing but calm and sincere.

You gently part away from Michi, speaking to him in a soft voice. “I trust him a lot. He’s like a brother to me. He’ll make sure you’re safe while I’m gone.”

Michi steps back a bit, staring over Dabi. A few long seconds slip away before he hesitantly approaches Dabi. He doesn’t move, letting the kid choose his own approach. Michi steps into Dabi’s frame, head lightly resting on his chest and hands clutched to his own. Dabi remains still, not wanting to scare him off with any movement he isn’t prepared for. It’s not a hug, but it’s the start of trust.

After running your fingers through Michi’s hair again, you stand up. “I’ll be back in a couple of hours.” Dabi makes slow movements to remove the phone from his back pocket and hand it to you. “Try to get some sleep. You too Dabi.”

It’s fruitless, but worth the effort of speaking.

~*~

The streetlamps and shop lights illuminate the street under the freshly darkened sky. A few stars twinkle above, the rest hidden from sight due to the amount of light pollution. The crescent moon shines brightly amongst the dark canvas.

The streets are crowded with families and business people making their commute back home. They walk down the streets, chatting amongst one another happily and going about their usual evening. Some enter restaurants to meet up with other friends and talk more whilst they order food.

Hitoshi stumbles out the door of the roller skating rink. Once he regains his balance, he turns back to his father. “What was that for?”

His father, Hajime Shinsou, chuckles. “For cheating in that race.”

“I did not cheat!” Hitoshi scoffs.

Hajime ruffles his son's hair, briefly tangling his purple locks together. “Sure kid. I just happened to accidentally fall.”

“No, you fell because you have no talent.” Hitoshi quips back as he tries to fix up his messed up hair.

Hajime gasps, eyes widening in surprise, accentuating the dark circles below them. “Oh really now?”

Hitoshi hops back away from him as he lunges towards his son, hands stretched to ruffle his hair again.

“Ok boys, enough fighting. You both have no talent.” Hitoshi’s mother, Mihoko, walks out the door and makes her way to her family. Her lilac locks are tied behind her head in a bun, but a few short strands hang to the side of her face, framing her plump cheeks.

Hitoshi takes the brief distraction from his father and reaches up to mess with his own dark purple locks.

“You two will never grow up will you?” Mihoko says with a smile.

The two boys reciprocate the smile before fixing themselves up once more and heading off down the street.

“What are our dinner options tonight?” Hitoshi asks.

Mihoko hums. “We can decide while we walk. There’s a few restaurants down this street we could try.”

Hitoshi shrugs. “Sure.”

The small family walk closely together as they make their way down the street. The wind is light and a little cold, but it’s not enough to bother them.

Mihoko smiles as she turns to Hitoshi. “How was school?”

A frown settles on his face. “It was good I guess.”

The parents glance at each other, noticing the quick change in mood.

“Is everything ok?” Hajime asks, concern etched in his voice.

A sigh leaves Hitoshi and he visibly slumps forward. “It’s nothing. Just a few kids trying to get at me. They didn’t.”

“Clearly they did.”

Hitoshi grumbles, slightly annoyed at the conversation and wanting to avoid it going further. “Can we not talk about it now? Please? It’s family night.”

Hajime considers his son’s words and tone for a moment with a small hum. “Fine. But I want to know what happened tomorrow. I’m just worried for you son. That’s all.”

“I know dad. But it’s family night. I don’t want to be the one to bring down the mood.”

Hajime is quick to bring his son in to his other side for a hug. “That’s really considerate of you, and I understand what you’re saying. But you also need to understand our concern.”

“We’ll always be here for you Hitoshi, we always said that.” Mihoko adds.

Hitoshi can’t help but smile at his parents. “I know. Can we drop this topic now?”

Hajime nods. “For now.”

Mihoko looks up at one of the approaching stores. “Oh, what about that one?” She points to a restaurant store just ahead. It’s decorated with bright lights advertising the karaoke they offer as entertainment, as well as the meal specials they have.

“The one with karaoke?” Hitoshi asks. Mihoko confirms with a hum.

“Sure, why not? It’ll be fun.” Hajime says.

Hitoshi smirks. “Yeah, until you hear how bad they can get.” This earns a light slap from his mother.

The three walk towards the restaurant. Just as they nod to the doorman, screams erupt from inside, along with the sound of glass shattering and wood splintering. Everyone within the near vicinity stands frozen for one second, not really comprehending where the sounds came from.

The window explodes into millions of pieces as several men storm through it. They’re all dressed in loose clothing. Hair stringy and unwashed, much like the hair of the beards that a few have. They’re clothes are slightly unkempt but aside from that, they appear to be fairly clean and from middle-class income.

People from the streets scream and duck, faces struck with horror. They sprint the opposite direction and shove others out of the way, desperate to escape the scene.

Amidst the chaos, the Shinsou family flinch and instinctively turn to each other, seeking reassurance from each other to ensure they’re together.

Hitoshi feels secure for all of 4 seconds before he feels a hand grip at the back of his collar. Without any warning, he’s yanked harshly away from his parents. In a brief moment of panic, he shouts and jerks his elbow back at his snatcher. But the person wraps their other arm around his front, the muscled arm preventing him from attacking. Another second passes before Hitoshi feels cold steel press against his temple.

A gunshot silences the area.

Hitoshi flinches at the proximity of the sound, hands flying up to grip at the arm wrapped around his front. The gunshot having come from a fellow gang member, effectively placing a blanket of silence over the area.

“Everyone shut up!”

Hitoshi takes this moment to look over to his parents. Both of their faces are overridden with panic. Hajime has his arms wrapped around his wife, stopping her screaming form from lunging towards her son.

Hitoshi can see the desperation in their expressions, the desire to rush over to him, but he can also see the recognition of danger in his father's eyes. He can see his muscles tense with restraint. Hajime wants to run to him and try to save his son, but he knows the risk of doing so. All he can do now is stay put and pray to all gods.

“Please stop this!” A man with ginger hair runs out from the broken window. His casual black shirt and blue jeans are dusted with what looks to be flour and crumbs of food. His eyes are wide with shock as he spots Hitoshi pulled against them. “Let the boy go. He has no business with this. We can talk this out.”

The snatcher tightens his grip around  Hitoshi, eliciting a choked sound from the boy. “You had your chance to talk. Now I want to demonstrate to you the consequences of not following our deals.”

“Please don’t do this! Hitoshi!” Hitoshi has to close his eyes at his mother's screams. He can’t stand to see her look so traumatised. Despite his attempts to keep it in, a tear slips down his face.

“I’ll give you what you want. Please just let the boy go!”

The snatcher lets out a loud groan of frustration and annoyance. “You just love to take the fun out of everything don’t ya! He’s my hostage now! Just remember that this is all your fault! The consequence you suffer because you neglected to comply with our demands.”

Hitoshi whines as the steel of the gun presses further into his temple. Amongst the cries from his parents, Hitoshi hears a voice behind him.

“Let him go.” The voice is casual yet holds, firm and serious.

The pressure of the gun eases as the snatcher whips around to face the interruption.

A figure dressed in black, ragged clothing stands there. The hood of their jumper falls over half their face, the other half being covered by a fabric mask. The only visible part of the figure’s body is their hands.

“Who the fuck are you asshole?!!”

“The girl who’s about to break your hand if you don’t release that boy.”

The man growls at you. “I don’t need to take orders from a child like you!”

“A child?” The figure huffs out a light chuckle. “I may be a child, but I have bigger brains and balls than you.”

It happens so fast Hitoshi barely has time to comprehend it. One second Hitoshi has a gun pressed against his temple. The next, he’s being yanked by the shirt collar, away from the man as he crumples to the ground, hands gripping onto his crotch.

The girl dismantles the gun, throwing the parts away, keeping them separated.

The man groans in pure agony. “Don’t just stand around dumbasses! Get her!”

At the demand, the remaining men come to circle around the two.

“When I say so, you run through the opening. Understand?” The girl whispers to Hitoshi.

His mind is racing, adrenaline and fear coursing through his veins, hyperfocused on his surroundings. He nods vigorously, fists clenched with uncertainty.

The girl smirks beneath the mask. “Look boys. Why not save yourselves the embarrassment and just scurry along. No one has to get hurt tonight.”

“Yeah right lady. You just kicked our boss in his jewels.” A man with twisted horns on his head growls.

The girl takes a quick glance at the man on the floor. “You mean his dick? Let me tell you now, from kicking it, it’s small and worthless.”

The horned man lets out a yell before charging at the girl. He goes to take a swing at her, but just as he’s about to make contact, the girl ducks under his arm and steps behind him. The man has 2 seconds to think before a sharp jab hits him at the side of his neck. The jab effectively hits the vagus nerve, rendering him unconscious.

Hitoshi’s eyes are as wide as saucers. The girl just took out a guy nearly twice her size in one hit!

“Kid, NOW!” Hitoshi snaps his head back towards the girl. She whips her head back, striking the nose of another behind her whilst another man opposite her doubles over, clutching his gasping and clutching his throat.

Hitoshi doesn’t waste another second and bolts through the opening.

The girl screams as she’s thrown to the ground, the guy having regained enough grounding to push her and reach for him.

Hitoshi registers the sound of his mother's screams as he sees the hand reaching for him. But the man seems to stop himself, though not on his own accord. He shouts in pain as his body is shoved down to the ground, seemingly by an invisible force.

Hitoshi takes a brief glance at the girl. Her hood is no longer drawn over her face, allowing her (h/c) hair and glowing (e/c) eyes to be seen. Her arm is pointed to the ground, fingers tense. Hitoshi concludes that her quirk must be at work.

A hand yanks him away from the streets, pulling him towards his parents. The store owner lets Mihoko grasp at her son, her arms coming to wrap tightly around his body. Hajime does the same, overlapping his wife's arms.

The three watch in suspense as the girl stands up.

Two guys on opposite sides rush in to her, but it’s a stupid move she immediately recognises. With a single step and a flick of her wrist, the two men collide head first to each other, noses breaking in the process.

The click of a gun alerts everyone in the area as another man takes aim towards the girl.

The girl dashes to the male, uppercutting his arm and yanking the gun out of his grasp. A straight kick to the chest sends him barrelling on the ground. The gun is dismantled and tossed away before the cycle repeats.

Everyone watches in silence as the girl picks off every man one by one. Each hit she makes has every man groaning in pain. It’s fascinating to watch a young girl take down men twice her size with simple moves. A jab to the throat or to the side of the neck. An uppercut to the chin or gut. A knee to the crotch or under the kneecap. There’s a clear purpose to each strike she makes: take them down as quickly as possible. And it works.

However, as everyone admires over your skill, one of the once fallen men has risen up, snatched up the dismantled parts of a gun and reassembled it.

Hitoshi takes his eyes off the girl to stare at the man as he cocks his gun. Instinct has adrenaline rushing through his veins.

“Look out!” Hitoshi wrenches himself out of his parents' grasp despite their heart wrenching screams and dives into the fight. He tackles the man down as he takes the shot.

The bullet flies high into the air as the man falls to the ground. Hitoshi sits up, one knee on the ground, the other pressed into the man's chest and he begins to punch.

It hurts like no tomorrow, but Hitoshi pushes through the pain. He wills himself to punch again and again. He knows he’s wasting so much energy on one guy, but all his frustrations and fears pent up from the night slips out and drives his fist back and forth.

It's not long before a hand grips his arm. He grunts as he’s pulled up and away from the man. Hitoshi turns to face the offender, ready to punch him in the face, but his eyes meet that of the girl.

She stares at him, eyebrows tucked toward the nose. The expression shows anger and annoyance, but the (e/c) eyes show something similar to understanding and gratitude. She doesn’t give him a chance to stare closely at her for another second as she shoves him back into the crowd.

Hitoshi barely registers his parents' arms encasing him once again as his eyes follow the girl's movements. She takes out the final triplet of men, ending it with a powerful punch to the nose, the bones cracking audibly on impact.

No one moves. No one makes a sound. All eyes are on the girl as she fixes up her hoodie over her face. Her chest heaves with each intake of air, her fingers flexing as she rolls her wrists.

Her head shifts over towards Hitoshi. Despite the hood falling over her face, Hitoshi feels her gaze set on him. He feels it as if it's a dagger piercing his chest. He feels the intensity of it, the aggravation, and the appreciation.

She doesn’t stay there long. As soon as the sirens reach their ears, she darts away.

He can’t look away from her, even as she disappears into an alleyway. Even as his parents call out to him. Even as a team of pro heroes and police officers arrive at the scene.

~*~

Dabi is sat up against the wall with Michi laying across his lap, hand tucked up to his chest. It’d taken a couple hours, but Dabi had managed to sooth Michi to sleep, his calloused fingers threading through the child’s black matted hair. Dabi himself was not asleep, despite his eyes being closed.

You enter the room as quietly as possible, tip toeing across the room, avoiding the many kids that are spread out. A few kids look up at you as you do so, but after identifying you, they lay back down and return to their attempt at sleep.

As you get closer to Dabi, he opens his eyes, sparkling blue eyes scanning you for any signs of injury. Once satisfied you are okay, he stretches his unoccupied arm towards you. You slide next to him, accepting the embrace and wrapping your own arm around him.

“How was he?” You whisper.

“He asked a lot about you. Told him a bit more about what you do.” He answers, his own voice a whisper.

You nod. “That’s good.” A yawn slips past your lips.

“You should get some sleep.”

You poke Dabi in his side. “So should you.”

Dabi simply smiles at that and leans his head atop yours.

No more words are spoken, silence once again fills the room, allowing the two of you to slip into a light sleep.

[lovemesomesurveys]

1 - What’s your preferred way of keeping fit? Is it something you make time to do on a regular basis? I don’t do anything.

2 - Do you have fairy lights up anywhere in your home? No, but I put up some Christmas lights in my room last night.

3 - Have you ever raised a puppy? Would you want to or would your prefer to adopt an adult rescued dog? Yes, my doggo was 4 months old when we got her. She still had her baby teeth. That was our first experience raising a puppy and it was quite the experience. They really are like toddlers running around, full of energy and wanting to get into everything. Plus, you have to potty train and teach them. She was a handful and it was kinda rough in the beginning. But there was fun times, too, and lots of cuteness. I liked seeing her grow and progress. Just know that it does take a lot of time and energy. 

4 - Have you ever up-cycled any furniture? Did you keep it for yourself or sell it on somewhere? Nope.

5 - Do you recycle? Yeah, we recycle plastic bottles and cans.

6 - When was the last time you were in a vehicle that wasn’t your own? Where were you going and who with? Anytime I’m in a vehicle because I don’t have one of my own since I don’t drive. The last time was with my mom when she took me to my doctor appointment.

7 - Who was the last person to come to your house? Were they an expected visitor? One of my aunts a few months ago.

8 - Who is your last missed call from? Did you ring that person back? It was an unknown number, so no.

9 - If you work, is your job the same everyday, or does it vary depending on what you have on? -

10 - Would you ever be interested in owning your own business? Why or why not? No. I just don’t have any interest or desire to do so. I don’t have any experience or expertise at all regarding running a business either. It’s just not something I’d be interested in doing.

11 - What did you buy the last time you went to the grocery store? I personally haven’t been to any store (in person) since March. I have my usual requests whenever my mom goes; though, such as coffee, coffee creamer, Maruchan pork ramen, and shredded cheese. Very important items haha.

12 - Are you wearing anything that’s your favourite colour right now? No, but I’m wrapped up in my rose gold blanket, which is one of my favorite colors.  13 - When was the last time you cut your nails? I’m constantly picking at/clipping them, soo.

14 - What did you wear the last time you went out of the house? Where were you going and what did you do there? I wore leggings and my long sleeve Disneyland shirt to my doctor appointment. 

15 - Do you have your drivers license? If so, did you find it easy or difficult to learn and pass your test? I don’t have my license. 

16 - What time would you consider to be a lie-in? Do you sleep in that late very often or would you rather get up early? My sleep schedule has been messed up for years, but this year it’s been especially bad and all over the place. For the longest time I was staying up until like 7 or 8AM and sleeping until anywhere between 2 and 4PM, sometimes almost 5. The last month, however, I fall asleep around like 3AM and get up around like 8AM, sometimes waking up a few times in between. Then I stay in bed for several hours, usually falling back asleep at some point, until like 3 or 4PM. I don’t know, man. It’s super weird. I don’t know how I’m functioning even a little at this point. Gee, I wonder if that plays any part at all as to why I have like no energy ever. It’s taken me like an hour at most to drag myself out of bed and to my Keurig, but now like I said I just stay in bed for hours after waking up. I think the fact that it’s finally cold here plays a part in it cause I just stay wrapped up in my blanket all cozy and it makes me even more tired and the thought of moving and being cold holds me back. The fact that coffee doesn’t even get me out of bed for a long time is crazy, though. Ha, although I have been fortunate in that my mom or brother has often brought me a Starbucks or coffee from somewhere, so that’s been nice. Then I really see no need to get out of bed, though ha.

17 - When was the last time you painted a room in your house? What colour did you pick? Never. 

18 - If you have pets, how often do you buy them new treats and toys? We get her treats regularly. As for toys, it’s less often because it’s hard to find toys that she won’t just chew right through and destroy. She has a few that have managed to hold up well, though, that she plays with all the time.

19 - If you had to work a job that required you to do shifts, would you rather work the early, late or night shift? Probably the late shift. Although, it’d be kinda nice to do the morning shift just because it’d get me up and around and doing something and then by late afternoon or evening when I get off I feel like I’ve been productive with my day and can enjoy the rest of my night. Getting up would be the hard part, though :X I don’t know how I did it throughout school for so long.

20 - Is there any job you’d never consider, no matter how desperate you were for money? Yes.

21 - Do you have a favourite type of survey to take? I like ones like this with random questions. I really like ones with interesting questions that allow me to elaborate or vent if needed.

22 - If you’re home alone, would you rather have background noise or are you happy to sit in silence? I don’t like having it ever be completely silent whether I’m home or alone not, but especially if I am. I always have the TV on at least for background noise.

23 - On a typical day, how long do you spend out of the house? Since the pandemic really hit back in March and the lockdown started (and even when it was lifted) I don’t leave the house except for my doctor appointment once a month. Soo, that’s maybe a couple hours out of the house on a busy day at the doctor office or less than hour. Even prior to COVID, I spent most of my time at home. I did at least get out a little more than once a month, though.  24 - Would you rather eat in at a restaurant or grab a takeaway? Get takeout.

25 - When was the last time you went out for a meal somewhere? What did you order and was it good? Back in February. I got breakfast at Denny’s, which was was good.

26 - Do you live in a close-kit community? No.

27 - Do you find that if you drink a lot of caffeine, you need to pee more than normal? Coffee, yes.

28 - How many times a week do you go and visit other people? See the question 23. And again, even before COVID I didn’t visit other people on a regular basis like that. Honestly, I didn’t go to other people’s houses that often, it really just varied. 

29 - Who was the last person to add you on Facebook or another social media account? Did you accept? I think it was some random person, in which case I denied the request. Also, it bothers me that this is 29 questions instead of 30.

[clumsyclifford]

“i just lost the Celebrity X Lookalike Contest (I AM Celebrity X) and threw a tantrum about it, you’re the security guard who escorted me out and doesn’t believe me” au

thank u anon for this gift it’s precisely what i needed. literally just whacked this out instead of doign my lab final please forgive me if it sucks at least i finished something for once lmaoo (also me?? being brief?? nah)

-

Calum’s done security for plenty of these events, but he’s never seen a blowup quite like this one.

“Sir,” the host (Jeff) says, “please step off the stage.”

“This is bullshit,” the Michael Clifford lookalike says. He’s wearing a five around his neck and he looks positively enraged about it. “You’re telling me I lost a lookalike contest for my own face? Do you even know who this contest is for? I’m Michael Clifford! I can’t lose a lookalike contest against myself!”

Calum squints. He supposes Michael #5 looks roughly like the real Michael Clifford — not that Calum, like, knows what he looks like, not that he follows him on Instagram or likes all of his Tweets or anything like that, because Calum is a normal 24-year-old man — but some of the other Michaels onstage have him beat. And anyway, Calum’s pretty sure Michael isn’t even in Sydney today. His show isn’t until tomorrow. (Not that Calum would know. He’s not going.)

(Not on his measly security guard paycheck, anyway.)

“Sir, we appreciate your participation in the contest, but if you don’t calm down we’ll be forced to remove you from the premises,” Jeff says, belatedly realizing he’s speaking into the microphone. Michael #5 laughs wildly.

“This is insane! I literally have my driver’s license right here, I can prove it. I’m actual Michael Clifford and you’re going to let this —” he grabs the number plate of the winning Michael (Michael #12) — “this guy win “Best Michael Clifford lookalike”? This contest is not, by the way, Michael Clifford-approved!”

“Security,” Jeff calls, and that’s Calum’s cue. He heads for the stage as Michael #5 looks around and seems to realize he’s not going to win this battle. Calum watches that thought pass over him and sees him decide not to care.

“Brilliant,” Michael #5 says, “call security on me, the real Michael Clifford. Look, it’s not a fame thing, honestly, it’s just a pride thing. You can’t say you know what I look like and then let me lose in a lookalike contest for myself.”

This guy’s really lost it, Calum thinks. He really, properly thinks he’s Michael Clifford. But the brown in his roots has grown too long. It can’t be him.  

“Sir,” Calum says, hoping he won’t have to use force. Michael #5 may not be the real Michael Clifford, but he’s just as pretty, and it would be a shame to hurt him. Calum’s not above it, but he’s largely opposed. “Please step off the stage and come with me. I won’t ask again.”

Michael #5 groans. He sounds frustrated. Calum thinks he’s a little bit crazy. “This is insane,” he says again, but at least he gets off the stage. “Congratulations, Michael #12. Are you Michael Clifford?” Michael #12 shakes his head. “Thought not,” Michael #5 mutters as Calum puts a hand on his shoulder and guides him to the exit. He’s almost embarrassed for Michael #5. Calum’s more of a fade-into-the-background kind of guy. He’d never have a meltdown like that, and certainly never over such a delusion.

Michael #5 turns to Calum as they leave the building. “You don’t have to hold on to me, I’m not going to make a break for it,” he says bluntly. Calum lets go. “I am Michael Clifford, you know. Those guys don’t believe me, for some fucking reason, but why would I lie?”

“If you were Michael Clifford,” Calum says, disbelieving, “why would you enter a Michael Clifford lookalike contest?”

Michael #5 throws his hands up and laughs incredulously. “For fun! To see what would happen! Look, some of those people really did look like me. But I swear up and down, I am Michael Clifford.”

Calum shakes his head. The inside silence had felt like everyone was holding their breath (which they all had been), but the quiet outside is peaceful, and the cool air of the night feels like a refreshing reboot on Calum’s brain. He’s been sitting in there, watching contest after contest, for what feels like forever. He needs water. Or a smoke.

“To be fair, you do look like him,” he says kindly. This seems to further upset Michael #5. “If I were in charge, you’d have won.” Michael groans and rubs his face, aggrieved. “Look, mate, I’m really not trying to step on your parade or — I mean rain on your parade, or whatever. If it’s, if it makes you feel better to, like, embody Michael Clifford, I’m not going to be the one to stop you.”

Michael #5 looks like he’s at war with himself, stuck somewhere between entertained and dismayed. “Jesus Christ, I’m losing it. What’s your name?”

“Calum,” Calum says, because whatever. Calum’s a common enough name that if Michael #5 turns out to be a maniac, he should still be safe. And he feels a little badly for this guy, to be honest. 

“Calum,” Michael #5 says, “I swear on my life that I am really Michael Clifford. I can call Ashton — my manager, Ashton Irwin — right now and have him confirm it. I can literally call James Corden and have him tell you, if that’ll make you believe me.” He sounds desperate. A very, very small part of Calum thinks, what if it is him?

It’s not, the majority of Calum’s brain insists. It can’t be.

Yeah, but you’ll be really humiliated if it turns out to be him.

“Michael Clifford’s not due in Sydney until tomorrow,” Calum says, ignoring the voices. He’s almost embarrassed to know that, but it’s not like Michael #5 doesn’t know that. Anyone who’s willing to go to such lengths to pretend to be rockstar Michael Clifford is clearly acquainted with his schedule.

Michael smirks. “Oh, so you know my schedule to the minute, then? Coming to the show?” 

If this were the real Michael Clifford, Calum wouldn’t engage. But it’s just some random person who’s had a bit too much to drink, maybe, or a few too many fantasies, so whatever. It’s better than sitting in there watching the next lookalike competition (Selena Gomez), even if that is technically his job. 

“No, I wish,” he says. “Like I can afford concert tickets on my salary. Are you going?”

Michael #5 sighs heavily. “I’m performing, mate. It’s my show.”

“You’re awfully committed to the role,” Calum remarks. “I have to say, I admire your persistence. What’s your name?”

“My name is Michael Gordon Clifford, and I’m embarrassed for you,” Michael #5 tells him, which is funny, because Calum had been thinking the same thing about him. “God, this is literally the strangest day of my life. I thought it would just be a laugh, enter, see what happens. What can I do to prove it to you that I’m the real Michael? Can I show you my license? Will that do it?”

Calum thinks. He’s seen his fair share of fake IDs, but some people are willing to go to great lengths to pretend to be someone they’re not. And Michael #5 had been willing to use it as evidence against the host, so it’s probably a prop. 

Michael #5 has already taken out his license, though, and is holding it in Calum’s face. “Please, please believe me,” he begs. “I’m starting to lose my sense of self, honestly.”

“What does it matter if I believe you?” Calum asks, looking bemusedly at the driver’s license in Michael #5’s hands. “I’m just security.”

“Well, for one, you’ve been nicer to me than anyone else here,” Michael #5 says. “And for another, I’ve never been flat-out told that I’m not the person I am. So that’s weird. Admittedly, I’m not used to anonymity on this level, and it probably won’t last very long. But moreover, I was going to invite you to my show. You know. The actual show that I actually have tomorrow, at Sydney Opera House, where I’ll be performing my own music.”

Calum takes the license and looks closely at it. He’s a very good security guard, he likes to believe. And he can tell when an ID is fake. He can.

This one is absolutely real. Michael Gordon Clifford, it says, and then a picture of this guy — of Michael — 

Oh, holy shit.

Calum looks up, and Michael #5 — no, this is Michael, real Michael Clifford — is looking expectantly at him.

Somehow, all he can think to say is, “You were right. I’m extremely embarrassed.”

Rock star Michael fucking Clifford laughs at him, amiably. “Oh, that’s alright,” he says. “You seem like you’ve had a long day.”

“The longest,” Calum agrees, somewhat dazed. “You think that was boring? Imagine sitting through seven hours of that.”

“You should try my job,” Michael says.

“Oh, I did,” Calum says. “Didn’t really take off for me. Way to complain about fame and fortune, though. I really pity you.”

“Hey, you didn’t even think I was really me,” Michael shoots back. Which. Fair enough. “Wow, I must have sounded like an asshole, huh? That’s not me, I swear. I’m usually super chill. It’s just…imagine entering a contest for Calum lookalikes and losing. Wouldn’t that just throw you?”

“You weren’t so bad,” Calum says, and then amends, “Okay, you were a little bad, but only because nobody believed you. In retrospect, your anger is justifiable.”

Michael looks gratefully at Calum. “Thanks.”

Okay, Calum’s cool. Calum’s totally relaxed. He’s just having a chat with his favorite musician of all time. This is fine. Calum’s a security guard, for fuck’s sake. He’s practically known for being stoic. That’s his whole gig.

He tries a smile. Okay, he’s not cool at all. Michael is gorgeous and Calum is weak and he doesn’t even know how to talk. He can’t remember any words. Relevant topics. Calum sifts desperately through his brain. “Uh, you’re in Sydney early?”

Michael laughs again. It’s a wonderful sound that Calum’s heard many times in radio interviews and the like, but never in person. He wants to hear it again and again forever. “Yeah, well. It’s home, you know? And I didn’t have anything else going on. Plus, I heard about this,” he gestures vaguely behind them to the building which is housing the lookalike contests, “and thought it’d be a good time. You know. Funny prank, or something.”

“That went well,” Calum says, joking.

Michael shrugs. “Could’ve gone worse. Met you, didn’t I?”

Well, if Michael’s trying to stop his heart, he’s succeeded. “I’m not,” Calum says. His tongue fails him. He tries again, smiling feebly. “I’m not, uh, usually the one people are excited to meet, out of the two of us.”

“Well, I’ve already met me,” Michael says. “And honestly, I could take me or leave me. You’re nice, though. And very handsome, which helps.”

Calum hums. “I thought Michael #12 was a bit better-looking than you.” Oh, don’t mind me, just FLIRTING WITH MICHAEL CLIFFORD OVER HERE.

Michael fakes looking hurt, impressively well. “Unbelievably rude of you. Here I am, being charming and delightful, and you say that shit?”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it,” Calum says. Michael eyes him suspiciously, but Calum can’t resist: “Michael #8 actually did it for me.”

“That’s it,” Michael says. “I take back the invite. You can sit at home and eat chips and feel sorry for yourself tomorrow night.”

“What invite?”

Michael raises his eyebrows. “The…the show, Calum. I was serious. Unless — if you were joking about wanting to come…” This time he really does look hurt, and does a bad job trying to hide it.

“No,” Calum says hastily. “No, no, I meant it, I just — I thought you were joking. Of course I’ll come, that’s — that would be amazing.”

Michael bites his lip. “If I asked you to get dinner tonight, is that too forward?”

“Too forward?” Calum echoes, because that’s the only part of that sentence he’s able to process without his brain melting.

Michael nods. “Yeah, like. We just met, and you’re a fan, which is cool, but you just, honestly, seem like a really good guy. And you’re cute. I’m not trying to leverage power or anything because you like my music. You can totally say no, I won’t, like, have another meltdown. Just, I don’t know. I guess I could stand a few more good guys in my corner.” He looks down at his shoes, scuffing the ground.

It makes Calum (the part of Calum that’s still chugging along and not frozen solid at being asked on a date by Michael Clifford) wonder if Michael is lonely, or something. He’s clearly nervous. He’s nervous. He’s Michael Clifford, and he’s played to sold-out stadiums hundreds of thousands of times, and he’s standing here, nervously asking Calum on a date. 

“I’d love to,” Calum says sincerely. Michael’s face lights up. “But, uh, I work until midnight. So unless you want, like, midnight pizza…”

“Midnight pizza is exactly what I want,” Michael declares. He glances back at the building. “You should probably go back in, right? Without me, since you were supposed to escort me out and, like, discipline me.” 

“Discipline you? What do you think my job is?”

Michael waves him off. “It’s fine. Here, let me give you my number. You can just call me when you’re done here.”

Calum tries to blink the stars out of his eyes as he unlocks his phone and hands it to Michael. Michael puts his number in and says, “How’s that?”

“Perfect,” Calum says. “I’m starving. Midnight pizza sounds fantastic.”

“If one of the other Michael lookalikes showed up in my place, you reckon you’d notice?”

“Oh, absolutely,” Calum says. “None of them are as pretty as you.”

Michael blushes, lips wide in a smile, and Calum had been kidding, but now he really means it; there’s no mistaking the sheer beauty of Michael Clifford. There never will be again.

(When he goes back in, the other security guard, Emily, gives him a sympathetic smile, and Calum almost breaks down laughing.

“Sorry you got stuck with the crazy one,” she says, grimacing.

“Oh, that’s alright, he turned out to be more misunderstood than anything,” Calum says cryptically. “But we worked it out.” Emily looks confused, and Calum grins. “You can take the next one.”)

[anxiousheart4]

I support BLM 100%, actually 1000%.

Protesters have a right to protest, and people of color deserve the change they are fighting for and I will NEVER speak out against that, because it’s something that should have changed a long time ago. Hell, it’s something that should never have been a thing in the first place. Now we can’t change the past, but they deserve the future.

But all this damage being done all over the world by people that are just using the protests as cover to wreck havoc, makes me sick. It takes away from this great movement that deserves a future. (Well obviously, I’d love for the BLM movement to be able to move on to something else because they got the changes they were fighting for, but as much as I wish the world could change over night, I know this fight is far from over).

I don’t live in Kenosha anymore, but I called it home for 5 years in college, and I still love and miss it. And the pictures I’ve seen of the damage, I hardly recognize it anymore, it doesn’t look like the city I spent so much time in and that just makes me sad. 😢

A friend of mine from college who still lives in Kenosha, shared this. And I just think it’s so powerful and well written and the message needs to be heard.

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

I have not spoken out about anything because I was hoping things would de-escalate. There are so many things I am feeling and am having a difficult time expressing. Let me be clear: I am behind the Black Lives Matter movement 100%. I am devastated with what has happened to this community. I have watched this unfold all over the nation and have been scared that this would migrate this way and it has. I am so angry that people are using the Black Lives Matter movement as a shield for their selfish, destructive behavior. This movement is so crucial right now for our nation. These concerns need to be heard and addressed and innocent black lives need to stop being taken. Voices must be heard and changes made. But know, when it is being said that those burning down our city are BLM activists please know it is not true! The BLM movement is peaceful.

When the first protest took place here, I'll admit I was nervous it could turn violent through instigation, but the leaders of the protest kept everything relatively under control and were able to de-escalate situations as they arose. But overall very little damage was sustained and those dedicated to the BLM movement kept their message heard above those trying to incite violence.

I know everyone will say I'm buying into conspiracy theory when I say that the people causing the issues are not Kenosha residents and are being shipped in from other states. It's true. Yesterday when my business was being boarded up by some of the most selfless, caring people I've ever met, I saw the white supremacy signs, stickers and flags that were casing our downtown area. I've lived here since 2007 and have NEVER felt unsafe like I did yesterday. The atmosphere shifted from one of love and community to tension and threats. It was awful. We saw people driving slowly around downtown checking to see what was boarded, what wasn't, etc, essentially casing the area. It disgusted and terrified me.

Then we found out that those inciting the violence were not from Kenosha. There was a caravan of 100 cars with blacked out license plates that came from out of town and 6 busloads (yes I said busloads) of people that came in from Minneapolis. The National Guard told the city they would be here at 3 pm. They didn't show up until after 10 pm when things were already out of hand. Last night the businesses that were attacked downtown have residential apartments above them, so we now have people who have now lost their homes. They then moved to Uptown and burned it to the ground. An older gentlemen watched his business get set on fire and began to try to use a fire extinguisher to put it out. One of the people who set it attacked him by punching him in the head and nearly killed him, but told him that he was to let it burn because it was deserved. Downtown is now full of graffiti, including Reuther High School.

I can't express enough how much my heart aches for our community and our country. This is not protesting. It is destruction for the sake of destruction and trying to blame this violence on people that are not responsible for it. I know this opinion is probably not popular, but this is my home. I know the people here. They have the right to be angry and are exercising their right of free speech to make our community a better one. But there are those using it solely as an opportunity to turn our eyes from the injustices happening.

Today when I woke up, Uptown was still on fire. They couldn't keep up last night. A friend of ours is spending today cleaning up his grandfather's storage unit that was set on fire and is a total loss. We watched a business that has sat on the corner here in Kenosha for decades slowly collapse in on itself and be utterly destroyed. We have been informed that tonight is going to be even worse because by 12 today more buses will be arriving from California and New York. They have stated that their targets today are schools and libraries. Let that sink in. Schools and libraries.

I am exhausted. I am scared. Our community is exhausted and scared. After one week of being in business I now have had to shut down and board up to keep my students safe and may have to leave town to keep my family safe because the fires are moving towards my house and we live by a school which is now apparently a target. Make no mistake; I do not want to leave. This is my home. There is so much beauty and love here. And it is being destroyed by people who do not live here and do not care what destruction they cause.

The final nail in the coffin for me was when I turned on the news this morning. When Minneapolis was going through riots, the national stations showed it and very little of anything else. Today they are dissecting the Republican speeches from last night and reporting on the movement of the hurricane. There was one small blurb on Kenosha, but that's it.

I would like to end with the following thought: this could have been your community. This could have been your friends and your neighbors. This could have been you. And it still could be with all the things circulating throughout this nation. Please. Love instead of hate. Recognize and address injustice without harming others. Remember we are all accountable for our actions. Please pray for Kenosha.

[foreverwayward]

“Wayward Hearts” Season 3 Chapter 12: No Rest for the Wicked Part 2

Summary: After the Devil’s Gate had been opened that fateful night in the graveyard, the hunters are forced to face a new war. Countless demons now run rampant, hungry for blood and power. It’ll take everything the three have to survive when darkness once again knocks on their door. But, with only a year before Dean’s deal comes due, Sam and Riley will stop at nothing to save him; to save their family.

Masterlist

Word Count: 6380

Content Warning: language and violence

DISCLAIMER: any words or phrases in bold in the story are not my own and are credited to the writers of Supernatural.

**GIFS ARE NOT MY OWN**

As the song faded away, the Impala hummed its way down the dark road, its left tail-light busted. 

A siren broke the silence that caught the hunters’ attention. They all looked behind them to see flashing lights from the police car that reflected inside Baby over their still bruised and beaten faces.

“We getting pulled over?” Sam asked.

Dean looked into his side-view mirror. “I've got a busted tail-light. It's not like we're in a hurry or nothing,” he said sarcastically. 

The car rolled to a stop with the police unit right behind them. Dean rolled down his window as Sam gathered the license and registration from the glovebox. The officer walked up to the open driver-window with his flashlight in hand. “Problem, officer?”

Plainly, the cop ignored his question. “License and registration, please.” Not peering back up at at him, Dean handed the man the necessary papers. The officer looked them over as he talked to Dean. “Do you realize you have a tail-light out, Mr...Hagard?”

After a beat, Dean glanced up, only for his face to immediately fall. The cop tilted his head and shined his bright light on him.

“Yes…yes, sir.” Dean seemed out of sorts as he fumbled for the right words. “Uh--you know, I've been meaning to…take care of that.” Slowly turning his head back toward the road in front of him, Dean’s eyes dodged back and forth to the officer.

Riley could feel Dean’s anxiety build and she whispered from the back seat. “...Dean?”

Ignoring his girlfriend, Dean continued on with the cop. “As a matter of fact…” He suddenly opened his door fast and with force, hitting the officer in the stomach. Dean rushed out of the car and charged at him.

“Dean!” Sam and Riley shouted in surprise.

The two hurried out of the car as Dean punched the cop three times in the face. Sam tried to run around the car to stop him as his brother reached down to take the blade from his belt. Dean didn’t hesitate as he thrust it into the jaw of the officer, the knife exposed inside the demon’s gaping mouth. 

Bobby’s old car pulled up behind the patrol unit as the cop’s face flashed with light. Sam and Riley knew it had been a demon in disguise all along. 

As Dean pulled out the knife, the body fell dead to the ground. He stood over him, panting after the brawl.

As the old hunter ran over to the young hunters, Bobby looked down at the dead officer and then back to Dean. The others just stood in shock trying to absorb what they had just seen.

“What the hell happened?” Bobby was already out of breath from concern.

“Dean just killed a demon,” Sam answered in disbelief. “How'd you know?”

Still breathing heavily, Dean stared down at the corpse at his feet. His face was pale with worry, the words unable to come out of his mouth.

As the tension began to die down, Riley’s attention focused solely on Dean as she read him clearly. “Oh, my god. You--you could see it, couldn’t you?”

“I could see its face.” Still rattled, Dean’s voice was almost weak. “Its real face under that one.” His stressed expression gazed back at the others as his heart raced with fear. 

If Dean could see demons, what other nightmares awaited him that night?

------

The hunters had moved the patrol car into a more remote part of the woods off the road. They tore large branches off nearby trees to cover the vehicle as best they could so nobody would find it.

“So, what--now you're seeing demons?” Sam asked incredulously.

“I've seen all kinds of things lately but…” As Dean continued his work, he shook his head. “Nothing like this.”

Bobby shrugged. “Actually, it's not all that crazy.”

Taken aback, Dean stared down the old man, “how's it not that crazy?”

“Well, you've got, just over five hours to go? You're piercing the veil, Dean. You're glimpsing the B side.”

“A little less new age-y please.”

“You're almost Hell's bitch,” Bobby snarked. “So, you can see Hell's other bitches.”

At first, Dean appeared surprised, but then his face fell to more of a look of ‘fuck you’. “Thank you.”

As Riley placed her final branch, she tucked her hands back into her pockets. “Makes sense. I mean--this could actually help us, Dean. God knows my ability to sense demons is useless and all over the damn place.”

“Oh, well, I'm glad my doomed soul is good for something.”

“Well, yeah. You think Lilith doesn’t have demons everywhere? The cop was probably even one of hers. They’re gonna sound the alarm if we’re not careful. If she finds out we’re here, we’re fucked.”

“Well, this is a terrific plan,” he snarked. “I'm excited to be a part of it. Can we go, please?” Dean began to walk away and the others shared a look before they followed. 

------

After following their lead on Lilith, Bobby, the Winchesters, and Riley found themselves on a quiet suburban street. It was after nine o’clock at night as the minutes continued to tick away. They all hid away in an empty house left for sale, staring out the window to the lit-up house across the street.

Dean looked through a pair of binoculars to see a family at their dinner table. A man and woman sat with a blonde little girl as they served her cake and ice cream. An old man sat at the end of the table with his head lying in his plate, his eyes wide; he was dead.

Lowering the binoculars the Dean groaned. “It's the little girl. Her face is awful.”

The binoculars passed between the others as they studied the family nervously.

“Alright then,” Sam started with an anxious breath. “Let’s go. We're wasting time.” He walked past the others and moved for the door before Dean grabbed a hold of him to stop him from leaving.

“Wait!”

“For what? For it to kill the rest of them?”

Riley was still fixated out the window. “Sam, we gotta be careful or we’ll all end up dead like grandpa over there.”

Dean pointed across the street to the right. “Look--see the real ‘go-getter’ mailman on the clock at fuckin’ nine P.M.?” The others followed his glance to see a mailman sorting the mail at the back of his truck. “And Mr. Rogers over there…” he said gesturing to another house nearby. An elderly man was reading a book as he smoked a pipe in front of his large front window.

“They’re demons, aren’t they?

“Yes.”

“Ok, fine. We--we--we…” Sam stumbled over his words, worried as they were running out of time. “We ninja past those guys, sneak in.”

“Then what? Give a ‘Colombian necktie’ to a ten-year-old girl, come on!”

“Look, Dean, I know it's awful...”

“You think?” Dean questioned with large eyes.

“I don’t like it either,” Riley stated. “But, Dean--Sam’s right. This isn’t just about us saving you, we’re here to stop Lilith...for everyone’s sake.”

Bobby looked at Dean hoping to get through to him. “She's gotta be stopped, son.”

Contemplative, Dean looked to his family and then back out the window. “Oh, dammit,” he grumbled.

------

Still standing behind his truck, the mailman flipped through his deliveries. A loud sound came from across the way and the man looked up to see Dean, his face scared as if he’d been caught. The eyes of the mailman turned demon-black as he took off after the hunter.

Dean ran as fast as he could back the way he had come from with the demon following close behind. As he rounded the corner of a house, the creature charged after him. 

Only a second later, he ran into Sam holding the demon blade as the Winchester plunged it into his body. Dean grabbed the demon and put a hand over his mouth to keep him quiet as the creature’s cries muffled into the hunter’s hand.

Sam yanked out the blade and the demon flashed with light a few times before Dean dropped him to the ground. Both Riley and Sam grabbed his arms to drag his lifeless body out of view and then quietly hid beside Dean.

Not far away, Bobby chanted in Latin as he held tight to a rosary. “Exorcizo te, creatura aquae. In nomine dei patris onmipotintes.” He dropped the necklace into the opening of the water pipes and it was carried away by the running stream inside.

All the while, the young hunters continued their silent attack on the evil that guarded the block. 

Riley leaned down and grabbed the knife that had been stuffed into ‘Mr. Rogers’’ chest as the old man laid dead on the ground.  

She stood to her feet and wiped the blood from the blade onto the arm of her jacket while Dean drug away the corpse.

The three split up without a word, moving like a perfectly oiled military operation. Sam stayed to keep watch as Riley and Dean darted off in different directions.

Dean ran through some nearby trees and came up to a chain-linked fence where Ruby suddenly appeared. She shoved his face into the fence and held him there at her mercy.

“I’d like my knife back, please. Or your neck snaps like a goddamn chicken bone,” she seethed.

The demon froze feeling cold steel at her throat only to hear Riley’s voice behind her. “He doesn’t have it...”

Ruby put her arms up slightly in surrender as she released Dean. Sam had snuck up close behind and shoved the demon off to the side away from his siblings.

“How the fuck did you get out?” Dean asked in frustration.

“What you don't know about me could fill a book.”

Dean’s face changed as he reacted to seeing Ruby’s face. He moved his head back and away with wider eyes. “Whoa.”

“What?”

Not wanting to look at her horrible face anymore, Dean turned to the side. He reluctantly glanced back at her one or two more times, grimacing. “Nothing. I just--I couldn't see you before, but you're one ugly ass broad. Holy shit…” he muttered to himself.

Exasperated, Ruby turned to Riley. “Give me the knife before you hurt yourself.”

“No way,” Riley retorted. “I might consider giving it back when all this is over.”

“It's already over. I gave you a way for Sam to save him.” Her tone was more than irritated as she stared down the young Winchester. “You shot me down. Now it's too late--he's dead. And I'm not gonna let you die too.” She shot Riley a nasty look from head to toe. “Well, some of you are expendable.”

Riley rolled her eyes and crossed her arms with the blade still tight in her grasp.

Sam’s face scrunched with rage as his jaw twitched. “Try and stop me, and I'll kill you. Bitch.”

“Hit me with your best shot, baby.”

Looking in the direction Dean had been running, he and Riley shared a worried look.

“Guys, guys!” Dean whispered trying to get Sam and Ruby’s attention. “Hey. Have your little catfight later.”

They all followed Dean’s line of sight to see a man and his son standing outside on their porch staring back at them. One house over, stood a man with a briefcase, his attention locked on the hunters as well.

“Oh, shit…” Riley uttered as the eyes watching them turned pitch black.

“So much for the element of surprise.”

Realizing they had no other option, Sam forced open the gate and ushered them all out quickly. “Go. Go. Run. Run!”

In a full sprint, they all rushed for the house where Lilith had been hiding. The numbers of the possessed continued to grow into a swarm of evil as they chased the hunters. 

Dean grabbed Riley’s hand to keep her at his side as they ran as fast as their legs could carry them.

Sam reached the house first and began to pick the lock on the door. Ruby, Dean, and Riley came up behind him, anxiously peering back toward the lawn as more demons charged in their direction.

Dean tucked Riley behind him ready to protect from the hoard. “What the fuck is taking Bobby?”

“I'm trying!” As the herd of demons grew larger by the second, Sam was still having problems picking the lock.

When one of the evil creatures reached the lawn, the sprinklers turned on. She began to flail, screaming as the water burned her. Bobby had turned the block’s water into holy water and effectively made a barrier with the sprinkler system. Another demon rushed into the water and cried out in agony.

Breathing heavily, Dean smiled at the turn of events. It was a close call, but that was the first win they had had in far too long. Sam finally got the door open and hurried Riley and Ruby inside. 

Dean laughed victoriously at the demons and followed quickly behind the others.

The older brother closed the door behind them as they as they stood over a rotting body in the foyer. It was an old woman, most likely the grandmother. Her body had clearly been there for several days as the flies and maggots ate at her flesh, curdled blood surrounding her corpse.

“You think Lilith knows we're here?” Dean looked down at the woman and then all around them.

Even Ruby looked terrified. “Probably.”

As they continued into the house, they entered the living room. Sam went in first, holding the knife out ready to take on whatever came his way. Ruby let him lead her in, closely followed by Dean and Riley.

A door creaked and movement came from behind Dean. He quickly turned around to see a man coming out of a cabinet. Immediately, Dean put one hand up to cup the man’s mouth as he shushed the scared stranger.

“We're here to help. Okay?” Dean whispered. “I'm gonna move my hand, and we're gonna talk nice and quiet, okay?”

The man nodded his head frantically as his breathing was muffled by the hunter’s hand.

From off to the side, Sam asked, “Sir, where is your daughter?”

“It's not…” the father trembled as tears filled his eyes. “It's not her anymore.”

“Where is she?”

“Upstairs. In her bedroom.”

Putting out a gentle hand, Riley tried to keep her voice soft and soothing. “Listen, we need you to go downstairs--hide in the basement and wait. Use salt to put a line at the door and close it behind you. Got it?”

“Not without my wife.”

“Sir, please…”

“No, not--”

Knowing the man wasn’t going without a fight and how little time they had, Dean punched him hard in the face, knocking him out. He then picked him up and slung him over his shoulder before shooting the others a look.

“I’m coming with you,” Riley told him in a hushed voice.

Dean nodded in understanding as the two left with the unconscious man to get him to safety.

There was no time to waste. Sam and Ruby tiptoed up the stairs, their backs against the wall moving as stealthily as possible. Sam led them on with the knife in front of them. At the top, they both looked around a bit and hesitantly checked inside each of the rooms only to find nothing.

Once he reached the final door on the left, Sam leaned against the wood, trying to listen for anyone inside. After a beat, he opened the door as silently as possible and slipped inside. Sam’s hand shook as his grip tightened around the knife’s handle.

He realized he had found the little girl’s bedroom. Everything was pink and thin drapes hung around the bed in a canopy. Ruby walked in and the two shared a nervous glance. When Sam nodded to her, she then closed the door behind them.

As he rounded the corner of the bed, Sam shifted the knife in his hand, ready to strike. He pushed aside the draping as quietly as possible and the rings on the metal softly clinked. 

On the bed laid the little girl and her mother. The woman was breathing heavily, scared, as her ‘daughter’ was nuzzled into her, asleep on her chest. She looked up at Sam and trembled at the blade above the body of her little girl.

“Do it!” the mother whispered almost inaudibly.

Sam slowly raised the knife, looking down on the child that was possessed by Lilith. She moved a bit in her sleep and it forced Sam to finally realize he wouldn’t just be killing Lilith, he would be killing a little girl.

“Do it.”

He tried to collect himself knowing he had no other choice. If he was going to save his brother, the girl had to die.

“Do it!” she whispered as she wept. As her daughter stirred from her sleep, the mother grew more and more afraid. Her only hope of escape was if the strange man at her bedside killed her sleeping child. She panicked as their only window to ending her nightmare was passing her by. “Do it! Do it!” As the girl woke up and began to rise on the bed, her eyes slowly opened. “Hurry!”

The girl screamed at the top of her lungs in terror when she opened her eyes to see Sam lunging at her. At the very last second, he was stopped by Dean who grabbed his arm.

“It's not her!”

Horrified, the little girl’s breath grew rapid and heavy from what she had awoken to. Ruby and Riley stood behind the brothers waiting to see what would happen.

Dean could finally look the girl in the face without being afraid. “It's not in the girl anymore.”

The girl cried for her mother and sobbed as the woman cradled her, seeing it was her daughter once more. “Mommy's here. Mommy's here. It's okay.”

“If that’s not Lilith…” Riley started. “Then where is she?”

------

The hunters and Ruby led the mother and daughter down the stairs in a hurry as Dean guided them to the door by the kitchen. “Alright, no matter what you hear--you, your husband, and your daughter stay in the basement.” Once she was inside, Dean followed her down the steps.

“Well, I hate to be the one to say, ‘told you so’.” Ruby sniped as she, Riley, and Sam continued on down the hallway.

“Alright, Ruby,” Sam’s voice cracked with worry. He was sweating, afraid of what was to come. “Where is she?”

“I don't know.”

In the living room, Riley peered out the curtains to see the group of people outside the barrier of the lawn sprinklers. Their eyes were black as death and honed in on them. “She can’t get past the sprinklers, can she?”

“Above her pay grade. She ain't sweating fuckin holy water.”

Sam was out of breath as the seconds continued to pass. He turned to Ruby with pleading eyes. “Okay, you win. What do I have to do?”

She scrunched her face curiously. “What do you mean?”

“To save Dean.” As his big brother came up behind him, Sam began to beg. “What do you need me to do?”

Riley’s heart began to race as she looked at the clock on the wall. “Oh, god.” Her stomach turned realizing they were down to their final seconds. “No...no, no, no.” Something in Riley snapped as she shoved Ruby against the wall and held her there by her throat. “Tell me what to do! Tell me!” she growled angrily.

Dean grabbed Riley from behind, trying to turn her away. “What the fuck do you think you're doing?”

“Dean! No! We’re out of options. I don’t care what I have to do!”

They all began to talk over each other as tensions rose and panic consumed the room. Feeling everyone’s pain and torment had Riley wondering if she would lose her mind from it all. 

“You had your chance,” Ruby told her plainly before looking over to Sam. “You can't just flip a switch--we needed time.”

“Well, there's gotta be something,” Sam pleaded frantically. “There's gotta be some way, whatever it is, I'll do it.” When Dean came up behind him and grabbed him, Sam tried to fight against his hold. “Don't! I'm not gonna let you go to Hell, Dean!”

“Yes, you are!” the older brother shouted sternly. Dean’s tone fell and with love in his voice as he looked at Sam. “Yes, you are...you both are.” 

Riley’s body nearly went limp at his words and she released Ruby from her grasp. She and Sam just stared back at Dean as their eyes ached with tears. 

“I'm sorry. I mean this is all my fault, I know that,” Dean told them gently. “But what you're doing, it's not gonna save me. It's only gonna kill you both.”

A quick sob escaped Riley’s throat and she covered her mouth as she trembled. 

Dean went to her, his hand reaching out to tip her head up to look her in the eye. Tears pooled in her eyes as her crystal blue irises pierced through him. 

“Oh, sweetheart,” Dean said sweetly as he drank her in. He wanted to memorize every line on her face, every rogue freckle, every fleck of color that danced in her eyes. No one could ever convince him that she wasn’t the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. “I know I haven’t been what you deserved…”

“Don’t say that,” she interrupted weakly.

“It’s true. I’ve never been good at relationships--never knew how to say things I should have said.” Dean’s thumbs brushed away her tears as his hands held the sides of her face. “I should have told you every day how much I love you, how…” He swallowed hard feeling the swell of their connection between them. “...how much you mean to me.” With a loving touch, Dean swept the hair away from her face and tucked it behind her ear. He leaned in slowly before pressing a tender kiss against Riley’s lips. She whimpered at the impact and her hands desperately clung to his jacket. “I love you, Rye...”

With her lips quivering and her body ready to collapse beneath her, Riley stared into the green eyes she loved so much. As their foreheads came together, the two closed their eyes and let their bond take them away to a world that was always just theirs. 

Rapid flashes of their time together flipped through their minds; brief images of laughter, nights alone in bed, Riley’s final breath in his arms that terrible night, the first time they kissed, and countless more reminded the couple of what they had found in each other. 

For that fleeting second, the two lost themselves in their memories. 

Riley knew nothing would ever come close to the magic that lived and breathed between them. So, with her heart breaking in ways she never imagined possible, she whispered through her tears, “I love you, Dean.”

When Dean turned to Sam, his little brother could barely meet his gaze. Tears flooded his eyes and his face ached as he fought to hold himself together. “What am I supposed to do?” Sam cried softly.

Dean paused and forced his best smile. “Keep fighting, take care of my wheels.” He then looked to the two people who meant more to him than anything else. “Take care of each other.” 

There was a moment between the brothers where their eyes locked. Their entire lives had been spent at each other’s sides. They were more than brothers, they were two sides of the same coin; neither knowing how to exist without the other. 

With his final seconds drifting away, Dean tried one last time to be the brother he always wanted to be. “Sam, remember what Dad taught you...okay?” Sam nodded, wanting to be brave for Dean as tears he could no longer hold in began to fall. “And remember what I taught you.” Dean was about to fall apart as he struggled not to break into a sob. He refused to show the incredible fear that coursed through him or the grief that was eating him alive. Dean needed to be strong...for them. Because if Sam ever needed his big brother, it was then and there.

The ticking of the grandfather clock on the mantle went silent before the gut-wrenching sound of the stroke of midnight echoed out, practically rumbling in their chests. 

Sam, Dean, and Riley all eyed the clock knowing what it meant, Dean’s time was up.

*gong*

“No…” Riley whimpered as tears poured from her eyes.

*gong*

Dean and his family exchanged loving looks as Sam’s face glistened with tears spilling down his cheeks. He gave them both a feigned little smile as his lips trembled. Whether it was the thought of Hell or an existence without them that terrified him most, he didn’t know. It took every ounce of strength he had not to fall to his knees and weep in desperation. Dean felt himself begin to shake, fear pulsing through his veins and tearing into his gut as the clock continued to announce the end of his final hour.

*gong*

Ruby sighed. “I'm sorry, Dean. I wouldn't wish this upon my worst enemy.”

*gong*

Howls came from the distance and hung in the night air. 

In an instant, Dean’s face went white as he heard the growl of a Hellhound only feet away. He felt his heart stop as panic overtook him; nausea building from the unbearable fear. “...Hellhound.” Dean uttered through a shaky whisper.

“Where?” Sam asked through ragged breathing.

His voice was soft and scared like a child in the dark as he looked to the corner of the room. “There.” 

The growling intensified and Dean bolted out of the room followed by the others with the Hellhound on their tail. They scrambled into the office and slammed the double wooden doors, right in the face of the demon dog.

Ruby, Sam, and Riley used all their strength to hold the doors to keep them shut. The Hellhound roared and pounded ferociously against the entrance. 

Dean ran over and threw himself down to the floor by the door and frantically started to pour out goofer dust. The rattling and banging suddenly stopped and for a second, it all went still.

Riley yanked the bag from Dean’s hand as she flew to the window to pour out what remained of the dust on the windowsill.

“Give me the knife,” Ruby told Sam. “Maybe I can fight it off.”

Confused, Sam peered down at her. “What?”

“Come on! That dust won't last forever.”

Dean turned around and looked at them from behind Sam. After a few seconds, Sam took out the blade and was ready to hand it to Ruby.

“Wait!” Dean yelled.

“You wanna die?”

The older Winchester’s eyes grew wide with worry and he shook. “Sam, that's not Ruby. It's not Ruby!”

As Sam looked back to Ruby, she waved her hand and an incredible force flung him hard up against the wall, pinning him effortlessly. He dropped the knife and it clattered on the wooden floor.

With determination, Riley ran toward the weapon, knowing it was their only hope. But, she too was tossed like a ragdoll and grunted at the impact against the wall.

The demon’s hand shot out in Dean’s direction as her powers flung him backward and onto a nearby table. He was trapped and struggled to hold his head up so he could see what was happening. No matter how hard he fought, Dean couldn’t move. “How long you been in her?”

Ruby’s entire facial expression changed and became almost childlike. “Not long.” It was clear, Ruby was no longer in that vessel. Something much more evil and sinister was sharing the same air as the hunters. She looked down at her body as she spoke in a feigned innocent voice. “But I like it. It's all grown up and pretty.” Her eyes went stark white as she looked back at Dean.

“And where's Ruby?” Sam panted.

As her eyes returned to normal, she glanced over at the trapped hunters. “She was a very bad girl, so I sent her far, far away.” Lilith tilted her head to the side and her neck crunched with each little motion.

“You know, I should have seen it before…” It was hard for Dean to get his words out as he still attempted to free himself. “But all you bitches look alike to me.”

Lilith snapped her head in Sam and Riley’s direction as she slowly walked toward them. “Hello, Sam. I've wanted to meet you for a very long time.” She grabbed a tight hold of his chin, forcing him to face her. Against his will, she gave him a kiss and there was an audible sizzle from the contact of their skin. “Your lips are soft.”

Sam moved his head up and to the side, trying to get loose from her hand. “Right, so you have me. Let my brother and sister go.” He peered down at her, hoping and praying that his offer would be enough to entice the demon.

“Silly goose. You wanna bargain, you have to have something that I want.” Lilith clicked her tongue in a mocking disapproval. “You don't.” Trying not to show his fear, Sam stared her down until her attention moved to Riley. “And Riley...you know--I don’t think I like you very much.”

Riley’s jaw clenched. “The feeling’s mutual.” 

With her abilities running out of control, Riley could feel the evil seeping from the demon. It made her skin crawl until it almost made her physically sick. Her eyes watered as she listened to Lilith speak. It was as if with every breath, the screams of every child she had ever eaten echoed in Riley’s mind.

“You want to kill me...don’t you?”

“Oh, I’m going to kill you. Believe me.”

“Why? Because you killed a big bad demon before?” Lilith teased with a cocked head. “It’s really sad, you know--how you think you killed the demon that took your daddy. Because…” she smiled. “You didn’t.”

“What are you talking about?” Riley seethed.

“Your daddy made a deal with Yellow-Eyes. Azazel was the one that got to drag him to Hell as he screamed.”

The hunter shook with hate and fury. “You’re lying.”

“No...I’m not. But…” Lilith replied in a fake sweet voice before motioning with her finger, slicing open the skin at the base of Riley’s neck. The hunter grunted at the pain as she felt her skin burn. “You’re powerful, that’s for sure. But what I wanna know is...what are you?”

“I’m gonna be the last thing you see before I send you straight back to Hell, you whore!”

“I don’t think so.” Again, an invisible force cut into Riley’s flesh and she cried out. “Azazel wanted you for a reason. I say, we cut you open and find out why.”

Dean grew angry with the demon’s games and barked at her. “So, is this your big plan, huh? Drag me to Hell, kill Sam and Riley--and then what? Become queen bitch?”

Lilith peered at him from under her lashes. “I don't have to answer to puppy chow.”

Clearly in pain on the table, Dean tried with all his might to hold himself up against her restraint.

Slowly moving away from Sam and Riley, Lilith eyed Dean as she made her way to the door. Dean’s terror-filled eyes followed her every step as she took hold of the door handle.

While still staring back at the doomed Winchester, Lilith gave an order with an evil grin. “Sic 'em, boy.”

Both Riley and Sam’s hearts leaped into their throats as their heads snapped in Dean’s direction. With a final glance at his family, Dean quivered as his focus returned to the door.

Lilith opened the large wooden doors with a disgusting look of pleasure on her face as the goofer dust blew away at the hot breath of the demon dogs. 

Laughing with glee the demon watched as the Hellhound charged at Dean who was still pinned to the table. It grabbed him, its ferocious teeth digging into his legs as it pulling him to the ground. Dean began to scream, tears pouring from his eyes as his right leg was ripped open.

Desperate pleas filled the room as Riley and Sam begged for Dean’s life. Their throats ached from the sobs and shouts ripping through them.

“Stop it!” Sam cried out as he watched his brother suffer, his flesh being torn to ribbons.

Riley’s muscles knotted as she released blood-curdling screams. As she witnessed the slaughtering of the man she loved, his pain became her own. It felt as though knives were ripping through her body; her screams becoming a mix of emotional and physical torture. 

With a sinister grin, Lilith proudly watched the two hunters in utter anguish. She looked down at Dean who writhed on the floor, struggling to breathe and to free himself. 

The Hellhound began to tear into him as it shredded the meat from his body. Dean’s screams only grew louder as the agony became too much to bear. He turned over onto his stomach, trying to crawl away, but the evil hound continued its ruthless attack. Massive claws slashed the hunter’s back and shoulder as Dean groaned loudly through his sobs.

Fangs punctured him before the Hellhound flipped Dean over, only to slash deep into the muscles of his chest. Blood gushed from him and splattered like raindrops over his face, the rest pooling around his flailing body. 

With nothing left in him to fight, Dean’s cries fell silent as crimson red continued to flow from his open wounds.

“Stop it!” Sam begged.

Using what breath she had left, Riley screamed. “No!! Dean!!”

All Riley and Sam could do was watch helplessly in horror. Whatever they had imagined that moment would be like could never compare to the devastation of the reality.

Dean’s final shallow breaths were passing his lips and he began to grow still.

“Stop it!”

Blood continued to pour from Dean’s chest like a sputtering fountain until he wasn’t screaming anymore.

“No!!”

A proud Lilith smirked at Riley and Sam. “Yes.” She stretched out her hand and suddenly a blinding white light erupted from it. As it built up, the two turned their heads and closed their eyes. 

Once her light was retracted and the blinding brightness had faded, her dead white eyes returned to their normal state as she stared at the siblings in utter shock.

Both hunters were on the floor, huddled in a corner together next to a cabinet, holding each other. As it grew still they looked back up to see that nothing had happened and nervously helped the other stand.

Afraid to her core, Lilith held out her hand again as a warning while her scared voice cracked. “Back.” Sam and Riley began to walk toward her. “I said, back.”

The two seemed more hateful and determined as ever, knowing she had no power of either of them. Sam bent down to pick up the demon blade while Lilith grew more terrified with the hunters’ every movement.

“I don't think so,” Sam declared as he pulled back his hand, ready to plunge the knife into her chest.

Left with no other choice and knowing she had lost the battle, Lilith abandoned Ruby’s body. A massive cloud of black smoke erupted from her mouth as she screamed horribly. 

The loud sounds of suffering died off as the smoke disappeared into the slatted vents on the ceiling and Ruby’s vessel collapsed.  

Sam and Riley’s attention fell to the floor as they fixated on Dean’s shredded body. Tiny droplets of blood peppered his face like his freckles. His eyes were open but vacant with no life left in them

Dean was gone.

Breathing heavily, Sam bent down beside him to pick up his big brother, pulling him into his lap as he cradled his head. To Sam, Dean wasn’t just a brother, he was a father figure, his partner, and his very best friend. The one that had raised him, protected him and taught him everything he knew had been stolen from him; the pain of his loss making him ache for death himself.

Sam and Riley wept with unimaginable grief feeling as though a piece of them had been taken along with Dean. They knew it was a part of them that they would never get back.

“No…” Sam whimpered as his voice broke. “No... Dean…”

Riley fell to her knees in defeat beside Sam, her gaze locked on Dean’s green and motionless eyes. Her hands trembled as she took Dean’s hand and clasped it tightly. His skin was still warm as she brought his knuckles to her lips, kissing his bloodied hand tenderly. Tears dripped down her face and onto Dean as they slid down his arm. 

Riley gasped for a deep breath as she felt the emptiness between her and the man she loved; it was deafening. A deep hollowness consumed her and she could have sworn her heart had been ripped from her chest. She was no longer whole.

“Oh, my god...” she whispered almost inaudibly, her throat raspy from her earlier wailing. “...Dean.”

The two mourned Dean as they both wrapped their arms around him in a tight embrace as they all held each other one last time.

------

Chains stretched from place to place in a vast void as thunder and lighting roared. Dean’s screams echoed into the nothingness surrounding him while the metal links held him in place by his arms and legs. He was soaked in blood and sweat; rusty hooks pierced through his shoulder, leg, and abdomen.

“HELP! NO! SOMEBODY HELP ME!”

No words could express the terror Dean experienced as blood filled his mouth, his teeth coated in a dark shade of red. He sobbed through his pointless cries for help as his torment raged on. The seconds that passed felt like days that would never end.

With all he had, Dean shouted at the top of his lungs. His cries went unheard and reverberated into the darkness. 

“NO!!”

Dean’s eyes darted frantically in every direction only to see that Hell had swallowed him whole. There was no escape, there was no hope, there was only suffering.

Horror consumed him as his skin began to sizzle and burn from the unbearable heat around him. Alone and afraid, Dean choked on his own blood as it slowly drowned him. All that remained were the echoes of his screams for mercy as he cried out...

“RILEY!! ...SAM!!”

------

S4 Prequel: Out of Tears

Forever Taglist: @waywardmoeyy @00slayer @adoptdontshoppets @arctusluna @salt-n-burn-em-all @nerd-in-a-galaxy-far-away @becs-bunker @squirrelnotsam @x-waywardaf-x @death-unbecomes-you  @themoonandotherslikeit @wndamaximov @flamencodiva @aaspiringhero @gemini0410 @love-nakamura @klinenovakwinchester @cemmia @deans-baby-momma @paintballkid711 @da5haexowin @a-manduhhhhh @winchestergirl82 @spnbaby-67 @sandycub @bunnybaby121115​ @erins-culinary-service​ @lauravic​ @moonxdance​ @knights0fkylo​ @panicatthewestwing​ @screechingartisancashbailiff​ @wiredandwayward​ @the-children-of-the-stars​ @rosey1981​ @mylovelydame21​ @titty-teetee​  @walkingchemicalfire​ @saaamsayshi​ @fandom-princess-forevermore​ @fangirlxwritesx67​

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #284

“mama, we’re all full of lies / mama, we’re meant for the flies”

When was the last time you changed a lightbulb? About a month or so back I had to change Venus’ heat lamp. Who was the last person you sent an e-mail to? I emailed my older sister the OneDrive link to her holiday pictures I did. When was the last time you visited the dentist? What about the optician? It’s been quite a few months since I went to the dentist for a normal cleaning. I haven’t seen an eye doctor in around a year or so because it’s a less pressing matter, and we can’t afford to buy me new glasses anyway. I desperately need them. Do you sleep on your side, your back or your front? My side, stomach, or like a contortion of both. Would you rather drive or be the passenger? Let me be shotgun controlling the music and I’m set for a long ride. When was the last time you received a handwritten letter? Sara sent me one I think two years ago for my birthday. If you have pets, do you buy them gifts for Christmas or their birthdays? Ha, yes. We don’t know either’s exact birthday though, so we don’t really “celebrate” those. Do you know how to ride a bike? How about ride a skateboard? A bike, yeah. I don’t know how to skateboard, though. Did you get enough sleep last night? How much sleep is enough sleep for you? No. I don’t even know what “enough sleep” is. I’m always tired. What are your favourite condiments? Do you use those often? Ketchup and honey mustard probably top the list, considering they’re the ones I use most. Peanut butter: crunchy or smooth? Do you have a favorite brand? I trust no one who can enjoy crunchy peanut butter. I like Skippy quite a bit. Do you have any life-threatening allergies? No. Have you had to take a COVID test yet? Was it positive or negative? I haven’t needed to take one. Do you think it’s okay to keep cats indoors for their entire lives? They SHOULD be. Cats are very destructive and disruptive predators of once-stable environments. They fuck up the food chain and have done a lot of damage to native populations. This is coming from a person whose house was an absolute NEST for cats to the point they were taken away. They lived outside, and I can only imagine the harm they really caused. Of course, as a kid, I didn’t understand this, but as an educated and experienced adult when it comes to this subject, it’s saddening to look back on. Please, keep your cats inside. AND FIXED. Hence our cat empire lmao. Do you think people should need a license in order to keep animals, just to make sure they knew how to properly take care of them? That would actually be LOVELY. If only. Not that it would entirely prevent illegal ownership, but I like to think most people are law-abiding citizens… Which meal of the day is your favorite? What’s your favorite thing to eat for that meal? BREAKFAST! Cinnamon rolls just gotta top the list. When was the last time you bounced on a trampoline? Would you ever want to go to one of those indoor trampoline parks? It has to have been so, so many years. My knees could NEVER take that now. I’m not interested in that. What’s your favorite thing to put on a baked potato? Butter, American cheese, and bacon bits… yum. Have you ever made money selling stuff online? What was it you were selling? I don’t think so, at least not successfully. Do you have a valid passport? When was the last time you used it? No. What was the last song you sung along to? I’m unsure. I rarely sing along to songs. What was the last piece of fruit you ate? What about the last vegetable? Fruit: apple. Vegetable: ummm I’m actually unsure. Probably broccoli. Have you ever lied to the police or a customs official? Were you ever found out? No. Are you much of a procrastinator, or would you rather get things out of the way so you can relax? I am a HEAVY procrastinator. When was the last time you took an exam of any kind? I don’t know. Probably not since I was in school. What snacks/drinks from your childhood do you wish they still made? Ah man, I know there’s some… just too many to dig through to try and remember. Are you a fan of techno? Yeah, sometimes. Who's your favorite horror movie villain/monster? I don’t particularly like one over the other. What's an 'obsession' of yours that most people would find odd or amusing? Probably how much I love Mark, given that being a “fangirl” is usually seen as juvenile. What's the sweetest thing another person has said or done for you? Probably Colleen letting me live with her while I was homeless for a month or two. Said to me, actually from Colleen’s sister; I was having a crying episode over Jason and she just grabbed my head and told me with such passion that I was so beautiful, strong, and deserved the world. Safe to say I started crying more lmao but at least it wasn’t from sadness. What's the absolute best feeling in the world? Being in love. Does the person you have feelings for know you feel that way? Yeah. Do you like Tim Burton? Um, duh. How do you feel about hypnotism? I don’t believe it works. It’s just the power of suggestion. How do you feel about Pink Floyd? I’m not a big fan, but I like some songs. What’s your preferred way of keeping fit? Is it something you make time to do on a regular basis? You assume I AM fit… but I really am trying to change that with WiiFit again, once the living room is cleaned up. I plan to insert it into my morning routine. Have you ever raised a puppy? Would you want to or would you prefer to adopt an adult rescued dog? Yes, Teddy. Right now I don’t want another dog, but hypothetically, I’d absolutely go for an adult rescue. Who was the last person to come to your house? Were they an expected visitor? My younger sister. Yes. If you work, is your job the same everyday, or does it vary depending on what you have on? N/A Would you ever be interested in owning your own business? Why or why not? Well, I want to be a freelance photographer, so… It’s not off the ground enough for me to *officially* call it a business, but while it’s absolutely so exciting to picture, it’s also very anxiety-inducing, the idea of it (hopefully) getting to that point since I’m dumb as fuck in regards to business stuff. Do you have your driver’s license? If so, did you find it easy or difficult to learn and pass your test? Ugh, I don’t. I need it so badly, I know, but right now, I couldn’t even if I wanted to because my vision is too bad to possibly pass that part, and I can’t afford to see an eye doctor + get a new prescription. If you have pets, how often do you buy them new treats and toys? Venus is a snake, so… yeah, lol. She needs a bigger terrarium, though, but a 40 gallon is expensive. Roman gets a new toy every now and then, but he doesn’t play with them as much anymore. If you had to work a job that required you to do shifts, would you rather work the early, late or night shift? Early. Get it over with. Do you have a favorite type of survey to take? Yeah; I like the ones that make me think or are just questions I definitely haven’t seen before but are also interesting. Some random questions are way too specific to apply to most people. On a typical day, how long do you spend out of the house? Even before the pandemic, usually zero time. Do you live in a close-kit community? Well we’re the new family on the block, so it’s hard to tell quite yet. People were welcoming, though. Do you have a vlog? NOOOOOOOOOO. If not, have you ever considered starting a vlog? No, I would feel WAY too fuckin awkward. Did you go to AM or PM kindergarten? AM. What are your favorite YouTube channels to watch? The whole world knows Markiplier is my true favorite channel, but lately I’ve really been digging pet (particularly reptile or tarantula) channels, Snake Discovery in specific. I’ve been bingeing the fuck outta them. I’ve officially become the “I know more than you” Petco meme lmao. Which relative(s) do you look the most like? Idk. Have you ever watched a live birth video? FUCK no. I never would. That could be so fucking scarring to middle school kids, for Christ’s sake. I’ve never understood why they show them in a lot of health classes. Have you ever given birth? Fuck to the no; never plan to, either. Have you ever wished you were born the opposite gender? Nah. Have you ever worn overalls? Ugh, as a kid. They’re so hideous to me now. If you’re a girl, how old were you when you started your period? I was in the 6th grade, so 11-12. Is your mom mentally stable? I mean she has depression, but otherwise, yeah. What color hair did your first crush have? I can’t really remember who my first crush was with certainty… but I think I might. If I’m right, blond. What was the name of your first crush? ^ in minds, I think Aaron. Did you ever play on Mamamedia.com? Doesn’t ring a bell. Do you remember your first email address? Haha, yeah, it’s still my current one… Did you name your Lego characters? I was more of a Lincoln Logs kid. Do you take medication for anxiety or depression? Both. If so, does it work? Does it help you? Or does it make you feel worse? I’d probably be dead without at least my mood stabilizers. Have you ever had a bag stolen? I don’t believe so. Who was your best friend in high school? Hannia. What book or movie gave you nightmares as a child? Ha, no books or movies, I think, but remember King Ramses from that episode of Courage the Cowardly Dog? Oh, trust me, I HAD NIGHTMARES. What song makes you cry? The most, probably “Eternally Yours” by Motionless In White. I physically cannot listen to it. Does anyone know who your first crush was besides you? Maybe Mom? Idk. How many teachers have you had crushes on? None. Did you make your Barbie dolls get crushes on each other? I actually don’t remember? I don’t think we had any male Barbies, and of course as a little kid raised in the South especially, I didn’t even realize homosexuality was a thing, so we never considered the girls dating. Did your Barbie dolls go on dates? ^ How old were you when you had your first kiss? 16. Do you have scars from self-harm? No, they’re long faded and were thankfully never very severe. Did your hair change at all when you went through puberty? Yep, it gradually turned brown. Are you taller, shorter, or the same height as your mom? We’re the same height. Would you ever consider adopting a child? I don’t want kids, period. The only possible case I see is being a stepmom, but even then I can’t visualize me being one to an actual kid-kid. Just like, maybe a mid-teen and above. Do you trim your own hair? No. What are all the things you remember being for Halloween? I’m very surprised that I don’t remember many at all. I know I was a witch multiple times. What was the name of the first pet that you loved? I adored almost every pet my family has ever had. Our first was a stray cat named Chance we took in. INCREDIBLE animal. What color was your nursery? I have zero clue. Do you exercise regularly? Ugh, no, but I genuinely plan on changing that once the living room is cleaned up and Mom moves into her room. I’m very serious about starting Wii Fit again. I WAS gonna start walking once we moved here, but I found I was too scared to alone. I’m way too paranoid. Do you have a healthy BMI? lol What photo editing software do you use? Lightroom, Photoshop, and very rarely PhotoScape if I’m being lazy with watermarking my photography. Do you live somewhere with lots of livestock or wild animals? Livestock, yeah. You pass cows all the time around here. If you’re in a more wooded area, you’ll find roadkill kinda frequently, sadly. Would you rather live somewhere rural or urban? Rural. It’s the only thing that sucks about our new home – we’re in the suburbs. Is there anything (a hobby, for example) that’s guaranteed to always make you feel better when you’ve had a bad day? Not 100%, really. If the day was truly awful, sometimes nothing helps. If you’re struggling with your mental health, who are you most likely to open up to, or would you bottle it up instead? I vent to my mom the most. What room of your house do you spend the most time in? Is this through choice or necessity? My room, and it’s by choice. The second room that I wanna make my “office” is still LOADED with stuff from moving. If you could design your own garden, what would you have in it? Do you think that dream is ever going to be achievable for you? I don’t want a garden. Does it take you a long time to fall asleep at night? What do you if you’re really struggling to get to sleep? It can take me very, very long. I dread lying down some nights just because I know I’ll be tossing and turning for a good while. If I’ve tried to sleep for a long time to no avail, I do what you shouldn’t do and get back on the laptop. Do you think it’s cruel when people keep exotic animals as pets? Or do you think it’s okay as long as they have the space, time and money to dedicate to them? This depends on the animal and situation. I do believe some rescue cases are justified for the animal’s survival, but as the question mentions, you need to be able to provide adequately for it to be moral imo. I do NOT support exotic pet ownership for the average person. If you eat meat, is there a particular animal you’d never eat? If you don’t eat meat, what’s the reason for it? I could never eat a “pet” animal, nor an animal hunted mostly for sport. Even in survival cases, I’d have a hard time eating a wild animal.

[magnoliawhetstone]

you’ve got mail - present

[ tw: therapy, eating disorder, mother issues, verbal abuse, self worth ] 

“Do I really have to do this?” 

“Why do you ask?”

“I just,” Lia sighed, pulling her eyes from her therapist and toward the windows. The blinds were drawn but open enough for the natural light to filter through the room. Lia had lost her ability to manage her emotions well , so when she felt herself ready to start crying--she avoided eye contact. “I just don’t know how this is supposed to help. The reading part.”

Tonya nodded thoughtfully, watching Magnolia closely. She could tell the blonde was struggling--most people did when it came to this part. Tonya had assigned the letter project three weeks ago but something had changed within her client since then--since last week even. She wanted to ask her what was going on--but the letter came first. Unless, of course. Magnolia brought it up. 

Finally, her therapist spoke. “Sometimes, our brain knows the words it wants to put on paper, but doesn’t understand them until they’re read aloud. Think about the difference between when you read shakespeare and when you listen to it. There’s a marked difference in understanding through inflection and tone--its a different piece. Neither is wrong nor bad--just different. I sense that this might be hard for you--but you’re stronger than you think Magnolia.” 

You’re stronger than you think, Magnolia. Her chest tightened when she heard her therapist use her full name. It felt...weird coming from her mouth, but she hadn’t corrected her yet and she wasn’t sure why. She closed her eyes and took a breath. You’re stronger than you think, Magnolia. 

She clears her throat and begins. 

“Dear Momma, 

It’s been a long time, hasn’t it? 15 years since you handed me that boarding pass and said goodbye. Except, you didn’t say goodbye did you? You just walked away. Y’know, for a long time I told myself that you were just so choked up with emotion that you had to walk away. That you couldn’t bear the thought that you were sending your baby away so you needed a moment. Because what daughter wants to believe that maybe--maybe her mother didn’t care that she was sending her away, forever? That she wanted her gone, to get rid of her, like she was some kind of burden. I protected you in my head for a long time, Momma. And for what? Why did I feel the need to protect someone who would do that to their own flesh and blood. 

I was sixteen, momma. One-six. Do you know what normal things kids do at sixteen? get a license, get a car. have their first kiss, go to homecoming and prom, fall in love, have a heart break or two, participate in sports--not have their entire life uprooted because their mother is embarrassed to have a daughter like me. I had barely figured out how to do geometry and you ripped me away from everything I knew--everyone I cared about. for you. in service of your feelings and your wants. did you ever, for even one second, think about me? and what’d i’d lose when you did that? did you? be honest with me. did you?

What were you doing when you were sixteen, momma? Y’know, we never talked about you growing up. You liked to focus on the future, and how we could best get me there. Well, not we. You. Because you made the choices for me. Did you know I wanted to be a writer? Maybe a poet, maybe a novelist--but I wanted to write. of course you knew that, i told you--once. And you know what you said? ‘Pretty people don’t write, Magnolia. They are written about. You’re not meant to be doing that sort of thing--you’re meant to be looked at.’ Do you know what kind of message sends to a 12 year old? That her only asset in life is how she looks? Do you realize how absolutely heartbreaking it is to be told you’re only ever going to be worth what you look like, and that’s it? Im willing to bet you don’t. and maybe that’s why i never told you--because i just assumed you didn’t mean it like that. but intent and impact are different, momma. 

the doctor said i was sick, y’know? i don’t remember if you were in the room when he said that part, but i heard him say it. and i’ve--i’ve never said it before but i--i think he was right. is right. if you believed i was sick, do you still think you would have sent me across the ocean to London to go to school? Or would you have helped me? I want so badly to think you would’ve kept me here, gotten me help, loved me. But my worst fear is that you knew I was sick and still sent me away--but that’’s not true, momma. Right? you wouldn’t...right?

It doesn’t really matter though, because you still shipped me off to boarding school and never looked back. And that hurt me, but I thought I could get over it. But you hurt Jack too--and that’s different to me. I’ve been dealing with you making choices for me my whole life. I never had agency in what I wanted--that was my lot in life and that’s what I understood as my role. I could figure it out. But he--momma, he didn’t ask for that. He never deserved that. Why didn’t you tell him I’d be gone for longer than the summer? Why did you act like everything was fine, that I never existed? Jack was the best person I ever knew--he was my best friend. I was supposed to marry him, according to you! And this is what you do? You ripped me from the only person in the whole world who I felt like understood me--but you took his best friend away too. He was young too, momma. He deserved so much better. From me, no doubt. But also you. People are not pawns for you to play chess with, their lives are not games for you to screw up! 

Momma, why didn’t you let me say goodbye? And why did I listen to you when you told me not to text him? 

I’ve always known I was broken--from the day i made that choice to skip dinner, from the moment i passed out on stage, from looking out that tiny plane window on my way to London. I learned I was unlovable, I learned I was not worthy of anything if I couldn’t earn it. And it hurts to remember that daily. But I’ve never been mad at you, Momma. I’ve always just assumed...anything that would make it so I wasn’t mad. But I--I can’t do that anymore. You hurt someone I care very deeply about, I hurt that person because of you, and I can’t--I can’t stop feeling this weight of guilt that presses down on my chest every time i think about. And I get angry because I wish I had taken more of a role in my life--I wish I didn’t get into that stupid car and take that damn ticket. What could my life have been if I had chosen to stand up for myself once? Why did you beat me down so low I couldn’t fathom saying no? 

Momma, I just want to believe that someone in the world could love me, broken pieces and all. That I’m not a hopeless case of shattered glass that hurts when someone tries to pick up. But I--I don’t know if I am anything more than that? It’s been 15 years and I still feel just as jagged and sharp as I did at sixteen. 

Why didn’t you love me? Why wasn’t I enough for you? I’ll never understand what I did to lose that--but I’m sorry. 

Tell Bennett I said hi,

Magnolia”