#so now surgery is inevitable......... my money i don't have...........

[santaferia]

turns out it's terminal 😔

[gothamite-rambler]

"Tim, you slipped up eventually," Bernard said.

---Next morning---

Tim woke up the next morning. Last night felt like a dream, it had to be he reasoned. There was no way Bernard discovered he was Robin, sat on this information for a long time, or that Bernard kissed him once he started panicking. It was a dream... a really good dream.

Tim (reasoned): It was a ... dream. I was exhausted. Dog tired, took off my suit which... Is scattered on the floor, totally normal. Me being naked, trying something new. Did that myself.

Bernard (calling from the kitchen): Tim, you awake?

Tim smelled bacon and eggs from the kitchen. Bernard was making breakfast, he was in his place and Tim was naked in bed. Not connected.

Tim (trying to play it cool): I'm up... Wh- When did you get in?

Bernard (heard chuckling from the kitchen): I spent the night here, silly. You hit your head during your Robin job?

Tim (sighing at the inevitable truth): Oh crap baskets.

Tim got out of bed debating what to say, how to handle this, should he pay Bernard to keep the secret, move towns, get plastic surgery-

Bernard (unintentionally interrupting his boyfriends ruminating thoughts): Tim, I'm making your favorite! I also left an outfit on the bed, and I placed your mask on the table.

Tim groaned at his boyfriend's saccharine jovial tone. Bernard sounded so used to this, but Tim couldn't figure out when he actually figured out he was Red Robin. All he could do now was get dressed.

Tim: Th- Thanks.

Tim took a deep breath, changing into the blue shirt and blue jeans Bear left out for him. Leaving his bedroom, he went to the table and sat down. Bernard placed a plate of eggs, bacon and avocado toast in front of him. Bear kissed him on the head then sat down with a plate of his own food.

Bernard scooched his chair closer to Tim, laughing softly seeing his flushed face.

Bernard (eating a strip of bacon): Last night was fun, I'm glad I got to do that with you in your Robin suit. Kind of wanted to do after I connected the dots on my metaphorical evidence board.

Tim groaned, rubbing his forehead.

Bernard (a soft smile): If you're worried I'm going to tell anyone or leave you or want money to keep it secret let me make this clear, I won't. I wouldn't do that if we weren't dating. That type of betrayal isn't my thing.

Tim: Yeah, but... Why?

Bernard: (calm) Did you threaten to do that when you wanted to become Robin? Because I know how smart you are and that you figured out who Batman was.

Tim (shaking his head): It was a tough start, but I never wanted to tell the world the information once I learned it. I didn't think I'd have this happen to me though. I was so careful.

Bernard chuckled, patting Tim on the shoulder.

Bernard (placing a hand on Tim's arm): Timmy, my prince, you suck at hiding it at a certain point. You left your eye mask in random places, you left a batarang in my car once, I'm keeping that by the way, one of your Robin suits is in the closet-

Tim (lying badly): I told you that was a halloween costume.

Bernard: Tim you have it labeled 'Property of Red Robin'. I believed it was a cool halloween costume... that we used for roleplay, eventually I connected the dots and the tights.

Tim sighed, holding his head down and eating his breakfast.

Tim: Continue.

Bernard (beaming): Thank you, let's see... you left your laptop open one time and there were blueprints for the batmobile, the microwave incident and again your upper arm tattoo.

Tim checked the tattoo he got dedicated to his mom.

Tim: Yeah, I-

Bernard: I told you to get the tattoo on a different spot for that reason, yeah. To be honest, the mask and tattoo made me teeter on if I was right, but it was when I kissed you to wake you up from the chaos monster's control that made me realize... you're the same person.

Tim: That was a weird night, you never told me how you snapped out of it first.

Bernard kissed Tim on the cheek.

Bernard: I had a little help from Robin. The important thing is I don't care if you're Red Robin. I love you and will always love you. I was waiting for you to tell me, but... let's just say I got a little impatient.

Tim: That's what I love about you, you are my better half. I... love you too.

Bernard: Aww, you're making me blush. Your secret is safe with me though, okay?

Tim nodded, eating his toast.

Tim: Thanks, question though, did you figure out who Batman is?

Bernard (chuckling): Yeah that took me like five minutes. Having trouble with Nightwing and Red Hood though.

Tim: Seriously?

Bernard (honest): Yeah, can you tell me?

Tim: Oh, no, no, you gotta figure that out on your own.

Bernard: You'll keep that secret from me? The utter betrayal.

Bernard and Tim laughed and then shared a quick kiss then went to eating breakfast with a new bond between them.

Previous chapter ->Last night

First chapter -> He already knew

[celticcrossanon]

Hello Celta, it may sound a mean and an unpopular opinion. But I’m wondering if Charles is using his cancer diagnosis to push for certain outcomes he’s desired all along.

Firstly, it’s been discussed and you’ve seen in your cards that Charles wanted Camilla to co-rule with him, and he was not able to make it happen at the coronation. Now with his cancer diagnosis he seems to be pushing Camilla to “lead” the family. Witness yesterday’s service which looked like a huge PR disaster where Andrew and Sarah came out ahead of everyone else. It’s not a good look, I doubt Charles was aiming for that outcome (more on that below). Next up, there’s a rumour or it’s been announced that Camilla will be leading The Commonwealth Service in March. If that’s true, he’s putting Camilla ahead of the heir, his own son. Very Game of Thrones. Then there’s all this PR is about Camilla saving the monarchy. He seems to be deliberately pushing for Camilla to stand in for him through all this, while William is right there. And then his press will turn around and say, William is unwilling or reluctant or flat out doesn’t want to step up. It’s Machiavellian.

Secondly, I believe Charles was hoping for the money shot of William walking slightly ahead of Andrew out of the service yesterday. It seems that’s what he was hoping for. So that when the talk of Harry coming back ramps up again, as it will inevitably, he could through his PR turn around and say, hey, you’ve no trouble accepting Andrew back, look at these photos of you and him together, why not Harry? We saw the photos of the Wales in the car with Andrew, dint you think he’s capable of manipulating further opportunities? He’ll say Don’t you now I’m sick with cancer? Why can’t you make my last remaining years peaceful by giving me what I want? Namely my snake of a son, with or without his snake wife, at my side with my dying breath?

Thirdly, he’s using his cancer for positive PR, he’s enjoying the bump up in popularity since his diagnosis and wats it to continue. All those photos of him reading get well cards, and getting tearful about it. It makes him a sympathetic figure and he’s milking it. It’s despicable and low down. Him greeting the PM Sunack and saying oh all these cards and letters, awwww they bring me to tears. Can you ever imagine a sovereign such as HTMQ making such a statement to a politician??? I know she’s from a different generation, but my goodness. Our late queen had a dignity no one can deny. She bore her trails with such stoicism, and reserved her tears for when she was alone or with family. It’s makes me so angry to see him portray himself weak and vulnerable simply for the despicable way he treated Diana. Where was his empathy and thoughtfulness when he was dealing with a much younger wife and mother? He was busy plotting and planning with Camilla to show this side to Diana. Seems he only reserves the right to feel sorry for himself and no one else. Instead of me seeing him as sympathetic, I see cunning and manipulation. What a manipulative a-hole.

Wow that took a turn I did not expect, but while I’m sorry he’s got a disease he’s dealing with, he should not be using it to further denigrate his heir, and manipulate others into giving him what he truly wants. I fear that’s what Charles is doing.

Hi Anonymous Retired,

I am posting this before it vanishes on me again and I will come back and edit with my reply.

I would not put it past the King to use his cancer diagnosis to further his own agendas, unfortunately. I don't like saying that but after my past two readings I would not put anything past him.

I can see the King using this to push the Queen into a role that is fitting for a co-ruler and not a Queen Consort (which is the same role that Prince Philip occupied as Prince Consort). What complicates it for me is that while Prince William is right there, he is also dealing with his wife recovering from surgery and having to be there for his three young children. So yes, I can see the pushing of Camilla, but I am also grateful for it in a way as it frees up Prince William to be with his family more than if he was standing in for the King. The crunch will come when Princess Catherine is recovered and Prince William is back to full time royal duties. If the King is still unwell as this stage, as I expect he will be, then the proper thing to do would be for the Queen Consort to take a step backwards and the The Prince of Wales to step in for The King. I can't see that happening, but I could be surprised.

You were spot on about the money shot, as per my reading of today. I also believe that King Charles would use emotional manipulation like you suggest, as we have seen him do it before. This time, I think that William will stand up to him and say No, which will be hard to do but very much worth it in the end.

I think that so far the King remarking on the cards and showing the video of himself reading them has been nice. Those are the only two pieces of PR I have seen. If I see more, or if the illness card is played in articles for sympathy, then I will absolutely think he is suing his diagnosis for good PR. As you said, I think the King reserves his sympathy for himself and perhaps for people that he currently likes (I could be wrong about this). He certainly is not showing the dignity that was such a characteristic of Her Late Majesty, in my opinion anyway. It could just be that he doesn't want to be as stoic as his mother, or that he is trying to show his appreciation, or something. I am more than usually annoyed at him at the moment so I'm not the best person to ask. :)

The King should not be using his disease as a manipulation tactic, I agree. Unfortunately, people do it all the time, from the sick child asking for extra ice cream 'because they are sick' upwards. All you can do is recognise it and do your best not to let it influence your judgement of the matter. It is unbecoming of the monarch to behave in such a manner (and I am still undecided as to whether he is doing this consciously or not), but if he decides to act like that people will see through it eventually and then he will face the consequences.

[the-bjd-community-confess]

TW: discussion of finances, difficult/abusive friendships and relationships, ideation and attempts, mental health, physical health

(Mod: anon, my sympathies as this sounds like a very difficult/intense situation)

Mod, you might want to throw this under a cut. I got a bit rambly and off topic, and some content might be uncomfortable for some blog readers. People will want to skip this one.

I almost offered to buy a bjd from a friend and I'm so glad I didn't. Context- she's in a rough spot financially and was selling off what she could. I considered offering my best guess at market price, with the understanding that she'd be able to buy the doll back unmodified, maybe with a faceup with permission, probably with some new clothes for the naked boy, whenever she wished. Basically loan with collateral and some doll clothes.  She does nothing with him normally, so it would just be a graceful way give her some help. He's in pieces, so I'd even restring him for her. Straight loan isn't an option since she borrowed a substantial amount from me for rent, claimed she'd pay me back, then continued to complain she couldn't while buying random playline dolls. I forgave the loan in an attempt to keep the friendship (and I now regret it- that was some of my savings and more than a month of my low income. I will be fine and it'll make minimal difference longterm, but it hurts emotionally). I should have wasted it on more dolls or something less dishonest. At least a snappy joint doesn't hide that it turns red when it makes you bleed in a restringing...

Due to a variety of factors, I'm debating cutting contact with her. I don't want to lose her, since she can be an amazing friend when she wants to be, but this friendship is destroying me. She's willing to lie to, use, and manipulate me even when I express discomfort with what she's doing. She's guilt tripped me into a situation where I was concerned for my safety.  The next time she wanted me to be around that person, she just didn't tell me he was involved and invited me with no disclosure. She couldn't drive due to surgery, violently abusive ex wouldn't be around her without a witness to agree he didn't do anything, and I was the only one that might put up with their stupidity, so she pretended she was inviting me because she wanted me there. I had to leave my car behind so I had no way to get away for hours. This happened repeatedly, minus the car, and she would have blown up on me if I hadn't done it. I should have sent an invoice for my involuntary adult babysitting sidegig. That would have been a lot of doll money. She'll get on my case for being "prickly"- never mind that she lashed out at me for months at everything before I finally snapped. A chunk of it is in her own head. Text doesn't convey tone and she lashes out when she jumped to the worse conclusion possible, then gets mad when I'm confused and point out she jumped on me. I can be a jerk and lash out once in a while, but the real stuff she's mad about only started after MONTHS of being her emotional punching bag, the turning point being when I developed probable PTSD because of her. She flips out over the smallest things too- I once got yelled at for picking up a clump of dog fur off her floor. My therapist can't legally diagnose me, but we agree I meet minimum DSM-V PTSD criteria (and then some) as a direct result of her actions (I can't tell her- I saved her life when she attempted. She'd feel guilty and never ask for help the inevitable next time. I know I shouldn't blame her for attempting, but I can't tell if she even did it or faked it to guilt trip her ex back to her and out of anger at me. She did NOT care who it hurt if it had a chance of getting him back. She's never once apologized for what she yelled at me that night or how she's treated/used me since he left her.) I don't know if I can end the friendship without her trying again or trying to get back at me. She's the needs to be needed type and so knows a lot about me that could seriously impact my life if it got out. We met three years ago when she was in her mid thirties and I was a very anxious, lonely teenager (minor at the time) desperate for someone to understand me. She's got an alphabet soup mental health record, so it feels wrong to blame her for anything. Especially since she'll excuse any action anyone does to me if they have a diagnosis. Hypocrite. There's a chance she's got a terminal illness, but that's still up for determination and who knows if she's lying again. I don't want it to be true, but I can't help realizing that's my peaceful way out. 

I'm so sick of it. If I had tried to help her vy+ that stupid doll, I'd be trapped by a promise. I couldn't have even gotten rid of the thing without breaking my word. I'd have to go near her to dump it on her doorstep and I'd lose the money. I've met online doll people now. We're not friends and I'll likely never go to a meetup, but the void of squealing over a shared interest together feels filled. I'm for sure an outsider, but I've finally got a bit of a hobby community (and one sane long distance friend- the other local one wants occasional emotional support and ghosts most of the rest of the time. LD stays friends the whole time and appreciates my dolls even if he's not interested personally). Some of y'all can get crazy, but most of the people I've met are genuinely nice. Very opinonated on certain topics, sure, but chill if I don't rock the boats. 

Sorry for the rant. I'm exhausted and losing my filter. Plus you guys like drama, so eat some popcorn and please don't repeat my mistakes or do this to someone. 

~Anonymous

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

Cerise, what a woman. I’d love to give you the image my mind inevitably created for her. I feel like she was one of those teens who carried so much trauma from her childhood, and was so so full of rage and she felt like she was destined for more, she was ashamed of being so desperate for money and luxury while having practically nothing. Leather jackets, cigarettes and small theft. I feel like she was one of those girls that wanted to have a motorbike but decided a car (a good car) would be more useful when she had big money —even though now she has a few cars and a few bikes. I also think she legally may have changed her name to Cerise, just because she wanted to be another person, she wanted to leave behind the girl she was to focus on the woman she is, no particular reason for that name, just because it’s elegant and it means cherry —a delicious fruit with a beautiful color, sexy, pretentious, vain. I also see her as a red head, probably as a part of that change she dyed her hair and got a perfectly made blowout. I don’t really have a reason for this one but maybe she wanted to leave everything behind so she completely changed her physical appearance, maybe some natural plastic surgery, training, to fit that image she had of an elegant woman. I see her wearing elegant outfits even to go to the grocery store to buy some bread and vegetables. Always a good nude (lily rose depp like) or red lipstick combo and a skin care and shower routine that lasts an hour every morning, just because. Lashes, eyebrows and nails always perfectly done. But internally, she still feels like she wants more, she deserves more, she’s ambitious, has little morals and maybe also is very cold and lacks empathy in some situations. She has lived many lives and will live as many as she had to, as a good survivor, that doesn’t mean she isn’t scared, but she will not hesitate to do anything if that ensures her own survival.

Honestly i’d love if you could give me some outfit inspo because i’d love to try and draw her, maybe i could include soap too. What do you think? Was i accurate? Please correct me if you think anything I said was wrong. I adore your writing, what a blessing to be able to read you every time. This story will stay with me, it destroyed the inspo block I’ve had for months. Thank you x.

AHH - this is so amazing, I love it. Some outfit inspo will be under the cut but I totally want to discuss characterization too because I love what you've brought up. And, omg, 100% - absolutely you can try to draw Cerise and Soap, I'm frothing at the mouth for them already.

Okay, characterization first (ultimately it's up to every reader how they characterize her, so don't take anything I say as law by any means, lol, but these are my own thoughts for her)! I agree with most of what you said! Cerise is totally burdened by her childhood and the trauma that follows it; she even explains that with her first encounter with pickpocketing her wrist literally got snapped back in two places.

She was never wealthy - never had money for anything to buy simply for the want to have it. She would see people with everything in the palm of their hand and become incredibly jealous/bitter at the fact that nothing she did would ever make any difference unless it was drastic.

Cerise 100% always keeps up appearances, she never wants to be perceived as anything other than beautiful or desirable, even if, deep down, she's utterly terrified that someone would get to know her on a personal level. She always flirts and talks so big about physical intimacy, but I think that it scares her just as much. Anything that can get a person close to her is like a threat and a danger to the empire she's built.

Ultimately, Cerise is a character who likes being alone because it's all that makes her feel safe, even if she's incredibly lonely. She openly admits she's vain and prideful, but I believe it stems from her own insecurities - she's a total dichotomy and a hypocrite of her own belief system.

She's prideful = she constantly needs herself to become better/do better

She's vain = she hates looking at herself in the mirror but still constantly does it

She's selfish = she openly talks about helping a man's wife when she required medical care

She's such a compelling character to me because she's utterly broken down and traumatized and she doesn't even realize it. She goes on about what she wants and deserves when the only thing she wants is to be loved and cared for like a human being. She's been so used in her life that everything has become a game of get-or-be-got.

Cerise is genuinely one of my favorite named reader-inserts I've ever created - it was so much fun writing her.

Okay, okay, ramble over - onto some inspo!!

I mentioned that Oxblood was her signature color in the fic, so just imagine these in that shade/hue/etc. Disregard skin color as well, this is just about the outfits!

I think these would fit what I had in mind - simple, elegant, but still has some personality to it!

If people envisioned something more out there/eye drawing we have these dresses-

Personally, I very much like the first of the eye-catching dresses, Cerise is a woman who likes a little flare - the sleeves are lovely and I like the corset add-on.

For jewelry, it's very much high-mass, Cerise was mentioned already wearing necklaces, earrings, etc. Many of which had gems, rocks, and fine metals. I'll leave that up to people's personal preference!

But I think that mostly covers Cerise, for Johnny I really just thought up a normal 3-piece suit except for the fact that he barely fit into it, lol.

But thank you so much for sending this in! It was so lovely. If you do end up drawing them, I would love to see it - I'm sure it'll be amazing!!

[serknighted]

Hey there, hello! Welcome to tumblr! Please tell me about your OC, I'd love to know about them! As much as you feel like writing down!💖

Thank you for the ask :D!

So I have... a few OCs for Fallout (This isn't even all the Fallout characters I have, just some of the ones I write about the most). The one I probably focus on the most though is the first one, on the left. His name is William S. Moore (although we'll just be calling him Moore, since that's what he prefers to go by). I might make more posts for the other three (plus the ones who don't have full references yet) in the future! But for now... I wanna talk about my little guy...

(pictured: a young Nora and Liam Moore)

William Shepard Moore, Sole Survivor of Vault 111, Sad Widowed Father of Several

(Pre-war)

Born the 9th of September of 2033, Moore's family originates from Ireland-- however, they quickly relocated to America to seek better opportunities for their only son, and so the family moves from Europe to Massachusetts. Moore always showed prowess more for history & literature than science, always being fascinated by world history, and more importantly, law. Being raised in a world with a constant fear of Communism, he sought to understand politics and the government that seemingly caused nothing but fear and panic in his family & friends. Despite how gifted he was, he was quite the trouble-maker, and his father believed that enlisting in the army would whip him into shape, just as it had done for him. Graduating at 18 in 2051, Moore decided to take his father's advice, and enlisted in the army.

His behavior was relatively clean while enlisted, and it wasn't until a war-time injury occurred two years later, with shards of grenade shrapnel made its way right near his right eye, that Moore found himself in dire trouble. While he lived and escaped the injury relatively unscathed vision-wise in the end, he was given a nasty facial scar, and the treatments and surgeries were plentiful and painful. Luckily for him, though, the nurse who took care of him most often was another soldier named Nora. When he was inevitably [honorably] discharged to rehabilitate from the injury, he promptly enrolled in college, deciding to study American Law. When he found out that Nora had enrolled in the same college as him, he jumped at the opportunity to try and befriend her, and throughout their long college years, they fell in love, and eventually got married after both got their masters in their respective fields.

Moore had a comfortable life as a lawyer; he was happy with Nora, with plenty of money to spare. Although the two of them believed they would likely never have the family they wanted due to Nora's chronic illnesses, it was discovered that Nora was pregnant with their first and only son-- a miracle baby, to say the least. Such a miracle inspired Moore to finally pursue something he had dreamed of for years, which was running for Mayor of Boston. He believed he could make the world better for his son, and he had already worked so hard on what he would do if he were to run, so he decided to run for office in 2076, just a year before the bombs fell. Although he had many supporters behind his back, his detractors were many; it had become exceptionally clear through media leaks that Moore had not been given the most mentally stable of minds, and many believed his PTSD made him entirely unfit for office; some using it as ammo to fire at his more left-leaning values. Moore was already exceptionally shy, but this treatment made him regress into his shell-- he forced upon himself a "perfect political persona," of sorts, completely repressing anything undesirable, and causing him to become more toxic in his own views of his masculinity. He would never get to see if this strategy worked, as the bombs fell before election day.

(pictured: post-war Moore)

(post-war)

Moore's story has many themes; it is him finding who he is while trying to survive the wasteland, and just as importantly, trying to find the family that he had lost so many centuries ago. The Wasteland of the Commonwealth is a ravenous, unloving beast, but while it may be cruel, there are some hidden good-sides to its chaos.

The first few months out of the vault were a kind of hell that Moore cannot even remember. He actually has no recollection of the time he spent in Diamond City or Goodneighbor, much to the dismay of Hancock. No one (including Moore) knows how he survived so long by himself, given the intense dissociative episodes from the new trauma of losing his entire family, and the Commonwealth itself being a never-ending reminder of the battlefield. The only reason he found his footing was because he had managed to accidentally stumble into Goodneighbor; the kindness of the residents to take him in and nurse him back to health while he was in his absent, half-dead state is one he can't remember, but still appreciates. Hancock was the one who paid out of pocket for the stranger to receive treatment ("no one is dyin' in my town. Not if I can help it.").

He befriends Preston Garvey afterwards, and the small group begin rebuilding what they can as they try to help Moore find his son. Moore takes quite well to the role of a leader of the Minutemen; he didn't think he would, but it makes him feel a bit better knowing he has people to back him up. It takes him many, many months to begin tracking down leads for where the Institute and his son might be, and he makes a few unlikely friends along the way... mainly the Mayor that took care of him way back when.

Moore is bad at forgetting, and hates remembering. He only travels constantly because he feels the need to be away from things that remind him of a life he no longer has. Nothing hurts more than the loss of his wife. Nora was more than the world to him; she took care of him, and he dedicated his life to her in return. Sanctuary reminded him of her, the songs on the radio about love, the giant Hubflowers that bloomed her favorite color... He hated remembering her, because he hated that he could never have her, again. His strong, fiery, extroverted wife, with a passion for ridiculous clothes, a girl who always spoke her mind.

...It sounds a little familiar, huh?

He didn't really realize this with Hancock, at first. He just thought he enjoyed the company, enjoyed not being alone... but when he did realize, it was initially so painful that he sent John home, much to the despair of seemingly both of them. So many things about their relationship was deeply painful. He had so far buried the idea of being queer, the idea of being vulnerable around someone, the idea of being himself... that he had forgotten what it was like to be happy with his life.

It takes him a while to really unpack this. To realize how much he'd accidentally fucked over his friendship with a man who had gone out of his gosh-darned way to take care of him... Just like Nora did. It's a lot to deal with the realization that you don't like the person you made, but it's a start. He realizes how much he actually cares about the people around him, the society he's helping foster... and that if he doesn't tell them now, he may never be able to, tomorrow.

While he falls in love both literally with someone and with the community he swears to protect, he finds the Institute, and his son. The son who terrorizes everything he now loves. It's hard for Moore to bear; the baby his Nora was so, so excited to love, is now telling him to his face that he cared little about the lives of his own parents. And despite how much it pains him, he can't let go. Unfortunately (or fortunately, depending on how you look at it), the world had already decided for Shaun to go, and so Moore spent his time learning about the facility around him as he watched his only flesh and blood pass.

Taking up the role of the Director, Moore is uninterested in "destroying" the Institute; there is too much good being done here to slaughter so many innocent people. He essentially tells the boards, "we cannot keep torturing the people on the surface, and if you don't discontinue these unnecessary projects my son started, I will be more forceful," and with some... helpful suggestion from the Railroad and his now much-larger Minutemen army, he successfully turns the Institute into a place of proper medical study and aid for the surface. In return, he stages a false explosion on the surface; the people of the Commonwealth now truly believe the Institute is gone, and with the boogeyman dealt with, the Institute could operate in relative peace, with the silent safety-net of the Minutemen army (given they honored their side of the deal: no more synths, more research in cultivation and medical science).

(pictured: post-story Moore)

Nowadays, Moore serves as a kind of Governor for the top-half of the Commonwealth, controlling most of the Greater Boston Area and above. He is romanced with Hancock (obviously), and spends most his time dealing with legal Government work, as well as trying to keep peace between his land and the land that the Gunners and Rust Devils claim. Although he's not perfect, he's learned what he's here for, and has found more peace and love within himself that he did not have before the war. He's also cybernetically-enhanced; thanks to an "accident" regarding laser rifles, his left eye was amputated and replaced with a prosthetic (formerly synth) eye, and he also has similar life-extension technology that Kellogg used to use. He tries to live a quieter life with his synth son Shaun and his partner John with the rest of his friends, but God knows that Plot Shenanigans love striking.

That's all the major information on Moore!! If you actually read this entire post, thank you! I appreciate it. And thank you for the ask again! I was honestly procrastinating on posting him for a while despite how much I absolutely adore him ;_; .

[nokingsonlyfooles]

The website is migrating and so is my eyeball! (Updates!)

I got myself a clean bill of eyeball alignment! I am within normal range! It does still take me longer to focus because my left eye tries to "go exo" (which means "pull farther to the left," just like my political alignment!) but after a little over 9 months of practice, I'm able to straighten it out. I am, apparently, a hard worker and a fast learner. The doc didn't think I'd be able to fix it this well!

So I'm down to doing maintenance exercises, and I will need to deal with the effects of my age-appropriate presbyopia. Bifocals and progressives are a no-no for me. That's like an obstacle course, and my eye can't take it. That means [drumroll please]... LASIK and reading glasses! I need another checkup to confirm I'm a good candidate for the laser, and then I'll get me some surgery. Hopefully before the end of the year!

Now, as far as story updates go, it looks like your patience will be rewarded with a 12-pack! It probably won't all be illustrated, as I'll need some time for the surgery/new glasses, but I should be able to get you the text in a legible format!

The website is migrating servers today, from the one with the wishy-washy TOS to one that says "Porn OK!" and costs $102 FOR FOUR YEARS. After that, it'll go up to $4.99 a month for one site, but that's still less than I was paying before. My mortality can now be expressed in Hostinger contract renewals! I may live to pay for my webspace 10-15 more times! Max!

Technically, if we don't count labour, materials, and all the years spent in the red, I will be making a profit for the first time ever with just three Patrons! Thank you!

...And, of course, once I get my Canadian residency, I will be burning that Patreon page to the ground and building a new one that seems "family friendly" and has no adult-oriented history or flags. The naughty extra content will go on the site, available for free DL or name-your-price. I will probably lose that one Patron who never talks to me, but I think they've forgotten about that subscription and I don't feel great taking their money in that case anyway. Onward and upward! I hope I can replace them with more new supporters! (Or maybe they're still paying attention and they're just shy. That's cool too!)

In the immediate future, I will get an email notification when my site's all moved, and then I can see what needs fixing. Stuff needed fixing already, due to various updates, so some repairs are inevitable.

Nevertheless, if it's not too much of a disaster, I'm eyeing October 3rd as a restart date. Then you get (potentially) 12 weeks of content! Wow! Then I'll take however long a break I need to illustrate it and fix whatever else broke. Hopefully, I can keep working my my backlog of Tin Soldier illustrations too, but that's on the back burner.

All you Tumblr followers who are here because you like the stream of other people's content I curate: This is a threat. I am only here to get readers for my serial. I will do whatever else I need to put up with to get readers, but if I don't get any, I'm done and onto something else that might work. Y'all don't have to pay for it if you don't want, but I'm trying to build a community for some very patient and supportive people. I don't want to spend spoons for no community. I do not have a lot of spoons to spend.

People are doing complicated internet things to the site today, so no links yet, but once I bang it back into shape, I will get back to begging for attention in the best ways I can.

[hussyknee]

On a scale of one to ten, how fucked up is that I want to slap Mum when she whinges and moans in pain?

It's just. That maternity body pillow I bought her that gave her instant relief because it supported her head and elbows? Discarded because "I need to sleep without being trapped in that thing in the night." Bitch, the entire fucking point of it is so you won't roll over in your sleep, rotate your hip and damage it more. Then I ordered a memory foam wedge to keep her hips straight, and made her keep a cushion between her knees until it arrived next week. She moaned and groaned while I helped her and then didn't even try to keep it in place.

She asked me to buy a new blood sugar monitor while I was out. I realized as I was paying for it that I don't know how long it hasn't been working, where the warranty was and if the problem could just be incompatible batteries. I also had to buy a new blood pressure monitor because she had never gotten that replaced either. Came home and checked her BP to see it was high– because she had forgotten her after-breakfast meds. Grumbled that she didn't know what she was supposed to take, she can't read the prescription, no one will read it to her. This is unlikely, but my sister is in charge of her meds, and she might have elected not to because Mum is a retired surgeon and prone to taking prescribed meds and dosages as suggestions she can switch around at will. Healthcare professionals are the absolute worst patients in the world, but my mother is in a class of her own. But even if she didn't know her own prescription, all her medicine has been sorted into the pill organizer I bought her.

For fuck's sake, I bought her an easy-to-open water bottle to keep on her bed so she won't forget to hydrate as much as possible, and she never keeps the thing nearby. Then she complains her pain pills make her constipated.

She just needs to fucking get a grip and do the bare minimum to help herself. Granted, she's never done that in her life (hence the current situation), but this is beyond ridiculous. Bitch, you are in pain because you are doing fucking nothing to not be in pain. I've spent so much money on stuff to make her life easier and it keeps feeling like a waste. She's hellbent on getting the hip surgery done ASAP no matter what, but won't actually do anything to heal enough so she can get cleared for it. Not even the six weeks of bedrest she's determined not to complete will be enough if her BP and sugar won't go down, and the stress from lack of pain management keeps spiking both of those.

The most galling fucking thing is that I pretty much outlined this exact sequence of events. Over and over. I told her she can't keep overworking herself and then eating junk out of stress and not checking her sugar. She kept saying, "Then I'll drop dead! And you'll be rid of me! Then you need not be bothered by me any longer!" I was like, "You're not going to conveniently drop dead. Your stroke or heart attack will just leave you weak and nerve damaged. You'll go blind. And even if the first one won't leave you paralyzed, the second one will, or you'll inevitably fall and crack your head or break something important. You'll be disoriented and in agony for weeks or months, pissing and shitting yourself, and then you'll labour for weeks on a ventilator in the ICU before slipping away." Because that is how her own mother died. How my friend's mother died, how so many older people die. And she fucking knew that, but between her toddler brain that can't connect cause-and-effect, her Jesus fixation and her god complex, she never let herself think it would happen to her.

My friends want me to just tune her out, let her go to hell how she wants and focus only on keeping the house afloat. But the same hyperempathy that drove me to a mental breakdown when she let my brother's teeth rot in his head, is now going haywire around her pain. I wanted this fucking witch to suffer for what she put my brother through. I cursed her out to her face repeatedly, telling her she would endure tenfold what she subjected him to before she died. Now that's actually coming true, and all it does it make me hurt as well, for the same damn reason. Fuck my life.

[scottguy]

Every problem they promised nationalized health would cause is now happening under for-profit plans. I wait forever for appointments. "Death panels"decide which care is "too expensive" (unprofitable). I can't choose ANY doctor, only those in my HMO or PPO.

But I can lose my house, even if I HAVE insurance because I got cancer and drug companies know you'll pay ANYTHING to stay alive...20% of $30,000-a-month medicine adds up fast. It's literally a robbery where you exchange your money for your life. All so some fat cat investor who provides NOTHING helpful to anyone can make even more bucks just sitting around owning healthcare stock.

If universal health was really SO bad.... don't you think EVERY other country would have switched back to private insurance by now???

Finally, the quality of care in the US is abysmal because this "gotta get obscenely rich off each patient" ethos is so pervasive and there are only a few minutes to TREAT but no time to actually provide CARE.

In Chile, my GFs ob/gyn will sit down and talk to her in his office for 20 minutes. That is UNHEARD of in the US. It's all rush rush. Volume = $$$

Private insurance forces us into this paradigm. Many doctors now get into healthcare.. not primarily to help people but primarily to get rich, especially surgeons. Many surgeons will avoid suggesting conservative options first because surgery is reimbursed so well. (Truly unfair to GPs who deal with more subtle hard-to-diagnose illnesses.) Docs HAVE to see 40 patients a day because insurance companies pay them as little as possible per patient, which is why doctors are always overbooked.

The entire American private HC system is twisted by the inescapable greed of American culture. (I think doctors should be very well paid. I'm not blaming them. I'm blaming a system built on greed that has been perverting medicine since Nixon changed a law making it legal to profit (shareholders & stocks) off medicine. It's just unethical to get rich (as a passive shareholder or CEO) off the inevitably of illness! Rich shareholders just skim money off sick helpless people. It's obscene!

I was in medicine in the 1990s and we called health a crisis THEN! It's 33 years later and the power of greed has kept the status quo... we pay more than any other country with worse healthcare outcomes than most single payer program countries because doctors can focus on CARE and drug companies, medical products companies, ambulance services etc. in single payer countries. Medical companies aren't all out to earn far FAR more than their products and services actually cost because costs are REGULATED.

In the US care prices are simply whatever the market can possibly bear and costs go up every single year by far more than inflation.

Wait until you get cancer before you argue how great the US system is. Go ask someone who lost their life savings even WITH insurance before you defend this unethical level of greed. (You're either a fool or someone putting those obscene profits in your own pocket at everyone else's expense.)

End of rant. Thanks for listening!

[dnalkaline]

ugh nobody actually has to read this i just feel like i need to type all my thoughts out somewhere or i'll explode.

I know like 9-12k$ isn't like impossible to get but it feels so daunting and i know barely anyone will reblog or donate to my GFM if i made one (as always happens for my medical shit. even for my pets) so idk what the fuck do even do about this. I'm trying not to be cynical about it but that's just been the running theme since. literally my entire life. i don't even know why i bother anymore

Honestly i have no hope for my future if that shit grows back and leaves me in the same amount of pain as someone going through labor multiple times a year AGAIN i think i will actually kill myself for real. im sick of this shit.

like this isn't even a dysphoria thing it's something that could ACTUALLY kill me through blood clots and nobody in my life IRL even fucking cares. My mom has enough money to just pay for a hysterectomy out of pocket for me without it being a huge deal to her and she just fucking won't and just keeps telling me to harass my insurance about it despite this being months of back-and-forth and i can already feel my endo symptoms growing back.

My insurance flat-out told me they'll only approve it if it keeps growing back and i have to go through surgery to remove it multiple times. This isn't even counting the fact I also have CYSTS that need to be removed because they're also causing pain and my insurance just... won't fucking approve it

The symptoms are already coming back after my most recent surgery and I'm still having periods despite the fact I'm POST-MENOPAUSE.

I don't understand why people keep preventing me from committing suicide just to not actually help me with the reasons why I keep trying to kill myself. it feels cruel. People say to reach out or whatever and then go radio silent. it feels so performative. I don't even mean that i expect my friends to give me money because i know everyone has problems but it feels like i keep being ignored and people make a point to not even reblog my help posts. It's always like the same 3 people getting in touch.

at this rate i hope i die. everyone keeps telling me it'll get better and i just have to go on but my entire life is me getting out of the frying pan and into the fire. Therapy hasn't been helping anymore because all the depression isn't like trauma shit it's just the poverty and the fact life keeps actively trying to get me killed by any means necessary all the time. I'm exhausted.

I'm tired of being the sick friend that's treated like the elephant in the room just because i can't fucking do anything and every inch of my life is just another walking trigger warning to people. I've become self conscious about needing to walk with mobility aids now because I feel like it's just another reminder of my fragility and inevitable demise to people.

I just don't fucking get it. i metaphorically break my back all the time to help other people with their shit but i barely get anything in return (except from the same few ppl i mentioned earlier and i am very grateful you guys are real friends). like. am i doing something wrong. am i just an unlikable person. i know people think i'm scary which i try to offset by being nice but i don't know if it's working.

I'm only alive right now because all of the fucking demon pacts and other spirit work i do causing me to avoid stuff and get more opportunities and I feel stupid about it because that's not even stuff that most people believe in and can't even be proven to be real.

i dont even know where im going with this im tired and i want to give up. fuck life. i actively despise life most of the time. I guess I just have to keep clinging to my blorbos i dont fucking know. whatveer.

[ketoozempicgummies]

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[dizazterparty]

I've never actually stopped and thought about any of my transitoninal choices the way some people say I should've. I decided I wanted to change physically, and as soon as possible. It didn't feel like rushing a decision, it felt like prolonging the inevitable and I was so impatient for change. I did not consider if top surgery was The Right Thing, I just knew that having a chest was very much wrong to me. I didn't second guess my new name, or shelling out the money to legally change it on everything, or insist to people around me that I was me now. All of these decisions were made quickly, and I enacted on them all through the years. I have never once second guessed these choices, and I still don't. I've been sure of myself and how I want to be seen for years. I don't care if I seemed reckless with how I decided to make things happen, I don't regret any of it.

[your-krazy-uncle-bob]

BOSTON, MA — In light of so-called "gender affirming care" making the Hippocratic Oath silly and outdated, Harvard Medical School has officially adopted the new oath "Mutilate Kids For Money."

While genital mutilation of small children was once frowned upon as barbaric and sadistic, Harvard Medical School has resumed the practice after realizing they can make a truckload of cash. "Sure, I had my doubts about performing invasive surgery on a completely healthy young girl that would render her infertile and permanently scarred," said obstetrician Dr. Francis Grimstad. "But then, I realized that I could make a lot of cash. Who cares how much I hurt children if I can buy a house in Martha's Vineyard? Bring me another defenseless little girl and my scalpel!"

The school decided it was therefore time to replace the antiquated Hippocratic Oath with one that better reflects the school's values. "Back in the dark ages of medicine, ignorant doctors would make a solemn pledge to 'do no harm'," said the president of Harvard Medical School, Daemon Pazuzu. "Luckily, we have now become enlightened to the real purpose of medicine: making money by permanently mutilating defenseless children, while we pat ourselves on the back for being good people."

While clinics performing permanent child mutilation have already begun to close in other countries as the harms become well-documented, Harvard has doubled down on its commitment to physically and psychologically traumatizing children. "As we see gender clinics across the globe closing, it only underscores how much we need to indoctrinate young physicians to hurt children," said Dr. Pazuzu. "If you don't catch them as medical students, they may actually learn how to read medical research, or develop some form of a conscience. Anyone with a brain knows these gender clinics will inevitably be shut down two decades from now by an avalanche of lawsuits from the kids we mutilated - but until then, we are dedicated to hurting as many children as we can."

At publishing time, the ghost of Hippocrates was dearly looking forward to the day of reckoning when all those who intentionally harm others will finally be stripped of the title "physician."

[haleigh-sloth]

We're all hoping that Touya gets redeemed and goes back to his family at the end of this final war. If that happens, will the Todoroki family use Eri's Rewind quirk to help Touya? I mean, his flames hurt him cause he got Rei's body. I'm thinking probably he'll get his quirk modified or something by Eri where his flames won't hurt him anymore. What's your take on this?

Eh....okay so several reason I do not think this will happen:

I don't think the Todoroki family would have any say in what Eri does. Eri is in no way tied to the Todoroki plot honestly, so I highly doubt they'd suddenly have any say in what she has to do with her rewind.

Second, the point of Eri is that she needs to be treated as a person and not a tool. So I don't see her being used for medical purposes for anyone (except for either Shigaraki or Deku but I will get to that)

Third, I would really like for Touya to just lose his quirk completely. He doesn't need it. After this he won't need to be fighting anymore. His quirk kills him, and when there's something in your body that is killing you (like an illness) you should probably get rid of it. I hope he gets hit by one of the quirk erasing bullets that are still floating around or something. If not though, I don't think Eri will be rewinding him either way.

Now I do think Eri will come into play, but only in a way that is a last-ditch attempt at saving someone's life. Midoriya is a possibility, but my money is on Shigaraki. The only ways I see her quirk being used tastefully in the end is:

Shigaraki will accept that he's probably gonna die destroying AFO, but Midoriya won't be satisfied with that conclusion and still try to save him physically, even though it seems inevitable that Shigaraki will die. Eri will see Midoriya desperate to save Shigaraki and for him to live, and Eri, having an understanding of what it's like to need saving (and remembering how desperate Midoriya was when he saved her), would choose to save Shigaraki's life. This way I also see him being rewound to pre-surgery.

OR

Someone uses a bullet to rewind Shigaraki to pre-surgery, before AFO was shoved into his body and started tearing it apart.

OR

Somehow Eri is still used to rewind Shigaraki to pre-surgery, but in a less dramatic way. This feels a little bleh though

The first one is incredibly specific and probably will NOT happen, but it's a way I imagined her coming into play. The second and third ones feel more likely.

I'm not particularly worried about how Eri will come into play though, so long as everyone stays their age lolol

[kaleidiope]

One of my three cats is dying He has Severe kidney failure. They said it's likely genetic and the vet has no clue how's he's alive or has lived this long at all He was an outside barn cat. When I needed both hands to hold his brothers and sisters, he fit snuggly into the palm of a single hand He was always small, and I force-fed him all through his kittenhood. We kept him inside because it was becoming winter and he looked as if he already had a paw in death's door. He was so small, and cold. Barely ate, I warmed up a corn bag for him to sit on every time I wasn't able to have him in my hands. He lived in my arms for months. I raised my little boy, did all I could to pull him through and now I feel I just prolonged his suffering He was sickly, his mother was sickly, his family-line was sickly. I'm not very surprised he's leaving this realm. I hope his quality of life was okay I tried my best. And according to the vet, it was amazing. He shouldn't be alive. He never should have made it to adulthood He had a fever of 107f in October. And since then he hasn't been "right".

He was 9.2 lbs then In January, he was 6.3 He's now 5.9 and only sits on the washer and gets up to drink I'm going to buy him a big bag of frozen fish and cook them for his dinners. It's all I have found he'll eat and keep down I've tried so many cat foods in these past months. He won't eat dry. He throws up wet. He won't eat most human food. I try to give him a bit of everything I eat in attempt to find something So far he eats salty and greasy foods. Like fried or breaded stuff. Which isn't healthy. It's not sustainable

Which makes sense. Salt retains water. And his kidneys are failing We can do some stuff to help him, but in the long run it'll only prolong an inevitable. And it's not even a guarantee. Even the vet advises against it because of money issues and the lack of it working due to his case being so bad. It's the worst he's ever seen

I can put him down if he seems to be suffering. I hope I can keep it together in the room. I want to be there, and I don't want him to stress him I want him to be as comfy and as happy as he possibly can My dog died in January. My Cat had to get surgery in February. And now my other cat is slowly dying in March. What the hell is April gonna take from me? Will it be him? I have no time frame of when this'll happen unless I choose mercy I don't want to see what April will do

[xxisxxisxxis]

Gateway Drug | Part Ninety-One [PT. 2]

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Warning(s): explicit language, mentions of drug abuse, mentions of domestic abuse

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"Your little one is here as of right now." Dr. Telille says, pointing to a very little area to the far side of my womb and I smile before she switches the focus slightly and then looks at the screen with a slightly odd look before flipping through my chart. "At your previous Obstetrician, did they mention any abnormalities?" She asks me. 

"No." I shake my head. 

"You said in your history you've had recurrent miscarriages?" She asks next. 

"Yes." 

"Okay, Mrs. Sixx, don't be alarmed by this because there is a solution but this," she turns the screen to me again, pointing at a shadow in the picture that looks like it's creating bunny ears or something. "Is a layer of tissue that's not supposed to be there. It halts fetal growth, and ultimately causes miscarriages, often times even before a fetus is interacting with the tissue itself, physically." She informs me and I feel like my chest is throbbing from how hard my heart is beating. "The good news is that we can fix this, I've had to do a few surgeries like this before--we can go in and cut that tissue out without disturbing your baby, but we will need to have it done within the next week--two weeks at the most." She explains and I raise my brows. 

"What's my chance of carrying out my pregnancy to term without the surgery?" I ask, trying to stay calm. 

"With a successful surgery, there is a 80% chance of you carrying it to term, and a higher chance at not facing as many pregnancy difficulties in the future like you've had previously. Without the surgery, with your history, it's very, very probable that you won't get to four months without miscarrying--if that far." She adds. 

"What's the risk of this surgery causing complications?" I ask next. 

"30%." She replies and I breathe out. "You don't have to make a decision today, you can go home and think about it and talk about it with the father but we need to get it scheduled in the next few days." 

"Um, o-okay…" I rub my lips together. 

"And if you are interested in the surgery, we can go ahead and send it in and see if insurance will cover it." She assures me. 

"I don't have maternity insurance right now." I tell her and she looks at me uneasily. 

"No worries, we can figure the costs out after you decide if you want it or not." She tells me, calmly, and I just nod. 

I numbed myself. I would've been freaking out, having a meltdown, begging God to spare my damn baby for once...but as soon as she started in on what was wrong with me, the negative outcomes...I flicked the switch in my brain and just let myself feel absolutely nothing as best as I could. My nervousness was relief compared to blatant breakdown mode that I knew would hit inevitably.

And how the hell did I tell Duff and Nikki that I was going to need surgery that could potentially terminate my pregnancy--or suffer what I'd suffered before and still lose a baby? Oh, right. I didn't. At least, not as soon as I probably should have.

When I get to my new little house I'm renting with my savings, Duff's sitting on the little porch, drinking a beer. 

"How'd it go?" He asks me, standing up as I unlock the door. 

He couldn't go with me this time because he had to go look at a couple houses with Mandy, which I understand because they had already canceled once with a real-estate agent and would get charged extra if they missed another appointment. 

"Good." I lie, clearing my throat. 

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." 

Whisky's barking at us until he realizes it's me, and then he won't get out from under my feet until I pat him on the head. 

"I need to finish unpacking." I say before Duff can ask anymore questions. 

"Well, it's your lucky day because I know how to unpack." He states, grinning. 

I go change into pajamas and when I get back, he's pulling pictures from one of the boxes, neatly placing them on the coffee table in the living room and I pick them up and start figuring out where to put them. 

"So, my family really wants me to bring you up." He says, optimistically. "I was thinking leave Sunday and come back next Saturday."

"...Duff, I can't just up and leave right now. I have to finish unpacking, and I'm gonna be meeting with Nikki once a week and then him and the guys once a week so that's two different…" I trail off as he cuts open another one of my packed boxes with his pocket knife, a look of disappointment on his face. "...It's not that I don't want to, you know. I just have a lot going on right now." 

"We'd just be gone for a week." He says, looking at me. "It's the only time off I have for a while since we're doing a few shows in New York and Europe." He adds. "And I really want my family to know you, kinda, before you have the baby." 

"I don't know." I hesitantly tell him and he licks his lips. "I don't know, Duff, okay? I just...ughhh." I groan, raking my hands through my hair. 

"If you don't want to meet my family then don't worry about it, Vivian." He says it a little passive aggressively and I raise my brows. 

"'Vivian'? Since when the hell am I 'Vivian'?" I ask, mimicking his tone. 

"That's your name isn't it?" He asks next and I cross my arms.

"You usually call me 'Viv', or...something…"

"Well, I'm not calling you, 'babe,' or, 'baby,' since we aren't dating anymore so…"

"You're being a dick." 

"I'm not being a dick. I'm just family oriented and I want my family to know you and our kid and you're making up excuses to not go and meet them."

"Excuse me for not wanting to be judged." I snap back. 

"They're not fucking judgemental." 

"Oh, so you're cussing at me now, too, huh?" 

"Quit trying to start an argument." He tells me. 

"I'm not starting an argument, I'm making a valid point." 

"You're making an assumption." He corrects me. "My family isn't judgemental. They're really not. I don't even think they're worried with the fact that you were married when we got together because they haven't said a word about it. They just want to meet you." 

"Matt didn't seem so cool about it." I mumble. 

"Matt was trying to keep both of us out of trouble." He explains. "He wasn't judging you. He just doesn't like drama and if we would've gotten caught he knew it'd just be a bunch of bullshit we'd have to get thrown at us." 

I just stare at him. 

"And I'm sorry for cussing at you, but I'm trying to be positive about all of this and I really don't want you to start bringing in your negativity." He exhales. 

"My negativity?" I raise my brows, laughing humorlessly. 

"Please, just come to Seattle with me next Sunday. I promise it'll be fun and my family's fun, they don't mean any harm by wanting you to come up and visit--they're already talking about planning a trip when it's born to be here for you and me both for a few days." He adds. 

I think about it, seeing his eyes glint a little as he slowly smiles at me like a hopeful puppy. 

"Okay." I relent and he puts his hands above his head, folding them together, letting out a loud, "Hallelujah!" and I roll my eyes, trying to hold back a chuckle. 

The truth is, I don't want to leave Nikki stewing that long after revealing to him my miscarriages. He never came back when he left the therapy session yesterday, and I was supposed to go back today but decided I needed another day to just think about everything, but because of Amber's schedule, we won't be able to get back in the same room together--aside from me just visiting him--until next Wednesday...but with Duff wanting to leave Sunday and come back that Saturday, I won't be able to meet then, either. A part of me isn't even sorry that I won't make it since the morale of Nikki's story is that he married a maestro of manipulation that can play victim like no other but is really an evil bitch who loves to make people suffer. 

I gathered that after reading: 

"I married a fucking demon."

"Vivian climbed from hell just to neuter me." 

"My wife's a fucking lunatic." 

"I sometimes think Vivian's waiting for me to die so she can get the money." 

"I hate her." 

"I don't know what's killing me faster: my looney wife, or smack. Doesn't matter--they're both my drug of choice." 

"If she didn't know how to fuck I would've already left her." 

"She flushed every bit of what Jason dropped off last night. Cost me a couple grand. I'm so pissed, if I knew she wouldn't beat the shit out of me and go batshit-ballistic, I'd lay her out on the fucking floor. I'm sure it'd be like foreplay in her sick mind, anyway." 

"I swear she cums every time she belittles me." 

And, my personal favorite: 

"Just woke up from a fucking nightmare. I was fucking around with Vivian and Vanity and once they got their satisfaction they started eating me alive while talking about their love for God. Even with them gnawing on me alive with their shark-like teeth and their completely black eyes, stripping flesh from my bone and going at it like a fucking pork chop, I was turned on. But as soon as they started about God, how good and wonderful he was, that's when I started panicking a little that I OD'd without realizing it and was in hell or some fucking incarnation of it. I see now that's how they both got me, being hot and knowing exactly what to do to get me going. And now they're both sucking the life out of me, eating me alive, while praying to their God and acting like they're blameless in my destruction. CHICKS = TROUBLE." 

At least we both agree that we married demons.

It was strange for me to realize how he saw me--well, how Sikki saw me. Once I was able to differentiate between the two of them, it hurt less reading what he'd write about me. It was just confusing. 

One page would be an entire rant (with unflattering, random song lyrics to match) about something I did that pissed him off--sometimes things I wouldn't even realize I did to make him upset and then the next page would be decently positive things about me that he'd profess after waking up sort of sober…

I knew he felt guilty about how he treated me, most of the entries from the end of '83 to '87 had "I'm an asshole" or "I really fucked up" or some version of it in them but the deeper into '87 he got, the less and less apologetic he got. Both in real time and his dairies. 

Despite the black and white of his diaries, one thing still lingered in the grey area…

I stare at the little TV on my dresser, bowl of captain crunch in hand as I stuff my face while flipping channels, Whisky gnawing on his chew toy as a flickering, fuzzy and static blaring familiar face flashes across the screen as I turn to the next channel. My heart stops for a moment, my finger immediately going back, the screen and audio clearing as I see her. 

Clear eyed and competent. A far removal from what I last saw of her with her gnashing teeth and tortured eyes, spewing at Nikki and I both before he and her got into a fight that left her dragged down the stairs of our old house...guilt tugs at me, remembering the look on her face, the pain, the hurt...perhaps she felt as bad as I did about the situation. 

He was the one telling her he was going to leave me and marry her, after all. My feury swallowed him before it ever thought about swallowing her. 

"...I'm currently looking at other scripts for other films." She replies very calm and composed to whatever question her interviewer was asking...I'm assuming this is part of her press run for her new movie coming out. 

"If you could write a ticket for yourself, Vanity, what would it be?" The woman asks next and she furrows her brows, slightly. 

"Write a ticket? To go somewhere?" 

"No, write a ticket for the rest of your life, and your career. Just everything about your life." She explains. 

"Ohhh," She thinks a moment before shaking her head slightly. "I wouldn't want to do that, actually, because, um, everytime I turn around something new's happening. I'm a very spontaneous person. I just like to get up and go, and I've been doing that since I was fifteen...so, um, I couldn't say I'd like to write that ticket." She chuckles a little, but not the crack-cackle I was used to seeing in her past interviews. 

She's actually sober here. 

"I just wanna go wherever life takes me." She continues. 

"What you're saying then, is, you couldn't write a ticket because what you would write wouldn't be as good as what could happen?" 

"No, I don't--"

"--No?"

"No, I don't think that, I'm not saying that at all. I feel that I have certain goals in my life. Very big, big, dreams that I set for myself. But I wouldn't wanna, um, question God's way about where he's going with me." She states. "That's just...not me." 

"If you could go back and change anything--"

"--Nothing." Vanity says, biting her lip nervously, shaking her head. 

"Any of the decisions?"

"Nothing." 

"Wouldn't change a thing?" 

"Nothing." She buckles down on it and I feel my eyes gloss over. "Wouldn't change a thing…" she trails off, thinking for a second. "...Can't say that I would." She adds, softly. "Because each time that I've done something, whether it be a mistake in my life, it's always...what you might call a mistake in my life is never a mistake to me. It was a definite meant to be and it was a definite learning process. So all the pain and all the glory...I wouldn't change a thing."

She's so unapologetically sincere. 

I cut the TV off as they start closing out the interview, and toss the remote across the room, losing my appetite and putting my bowl on my nightstand before I allow myself to replay what she just said. 

And I cry, not because she was in a relationship with him, not because she tried to steal him from me...I cry because I regret everything. I regret marrying Nikki. I regret meeting Duff. I regret getting pegnant. 

I'm not angry at her.

I envy her.