#they are as far removed from my kitchen table office as i can get in this apartment | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

jodilin65 · 33 years ago

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THURSDAY, DECEMBER 31, 1992 Well, here we are on the last day of 1992. What will 1993 hold for me, I wonder?

Yesterday was a good day. I still wish Dennis wasn’t moving but he sure gave me some very nice stuff I could use. He gave me a round glass shelf stand similar to one I once had back east. It’s about 6 feet high and it’s a solid iron stand that is olive-colored. There are 4 glass shelves. It goes out in 4 directions and forms a peak at the very top. I put stuffed animals up there as well as on the glass shelves. I also took some other knickknacks and the few videos I have and put them on them.

He also gave me a step ladder stool similar to my old one. A sturdy small table I’ve put my typewriter on and a tiny square thing to sit on while I type. Also, the perfect TV stand I’ve been dying for. On top are my TV and VCR. The bottom has a slanted shelf, which is normally for videos, CDs or cassettes, but I’ve put journals 1-34 on it. It’s much sturdier than my thin plastic shelves. I removed the shelf where I put my little table and typewriter and I put it in my closet with my underwear folded on it and my socks underneath it. I was able to do this as Dennis also gave me a shoe rack. I save more space by putting my shoes on it and hanging them on back of my bathroom door.

I rearranged other stuff, too. I moved the speaker that was in a corner and put it by the bathroom door, which is very close to the bedroom. I now turn this speaker on at night instead of my clock radio. I shut off the other speaker by my door and my box too, at night. Or whenever I’m sleeping.

I slept well. I slept from 4:30 to a little after midnight, then got up and did Andy’s laundry. I chatted with Dan, the security guard too, and we went to my mailbox together. I got all junk.

Dennis told me to call Susie and Brian tomorrow cuz there will be more stuff no one else will want. He gave Andy a nice chair and a big world map.

While I was figuring out how to rearrange everything which took time, Andy went to the store and picked me up some water, TV dinners and munchies. I have no cash till my check comes. I hope Susie or Brian have some cigarettes they can spare.

In journal 32 I had accidentally skipped a page and Kara wrote on it. She wrote: He’s not my boyfriend, he’s just somebody I’m sleeping with. I, Kara, came over this morning with a pack of cigs. What’s a P.J. Paul, I’m going into the kitchen to get a knife and I’m going to come and get you. Well, I haven’t heard from Brian since the last time, which was almost 2 weeks ago. From now on he’s going to be a closed chapter in my life and the only time it is going to open is when he calls so I can bitch him out. There are just 2 words lying under the carpet. And they can’t put you in bucks for 400 jail. I’m so glad you’re my friend. Officer S is here with me. And boy is she pretty. Talk more later. Bye-bye.

Later…

Last night I began 1 of my 40-page stories. It’ll definitely need way more than 40 pages, but I can always carry it into another journal. It’s going well and I’ve already done 20 pages. I type up the rough draft, copy it in, then send the rough draft to Fran. I’m typing the rough draft on that pad of colored paper Mary bought me. Kara, who was over for a while yesterday read what I’ve written so far and really liked it. Kara’s one of the few people like Andy and I where you can share your fantasies with her and just about everything and she won’t freak out.

I don’t know if Mary and I will ever do this as I don’t know how long I’ll be here, but we came up with an idea. The idea is that she pays the pet deposit in my name, gets a cat and makes sure it works out (I told her how horrible the last two cats were). It can spend time up here when she’s not around or when the office people are around. It can stay with her when I’m asleep or not here.

I’ll write more later, but I really need a shower and some food. Current Location: Arizona

WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 30, 1992 I guess Andy’s having trouble sleeping or is sick. It’s not like he’s noisy or anything, but I’ve heard movement over there all night long.

Yesterday morning at around 9:00 I heard them next door. The kids would slam their door, but finally, they left at about 11:00, thank fucking God! Now it should be peaceful for the next 4 days until something else wakes me up.

I was at the office yesterday and all 3 of them were in there. As usual, Paula and Judy were very friendly and understanding while I could feel Stacey’s hatred burning into my every pore.

I spoke to Paula, letting her know that although this complex and the apartments are beautiful, I may begin looking elsewhere. I thought the 1-bedrooms were $335, but they’re $349 and they’ll no doubt go up in June. That’s dirt cheap for such a nice apartment, but not anything I can afford. I wonder why I should even bother transferring to a 1-bedroom here anyway knowing how thin the walls are. Even if I could afford it, I should go look for thicker walls.

I fell asleep yesterday at 4 PM and I got up at 9:50 PM. Nothing woke me up, but I wanted to sleep later.

Dennis left a message saying I could have their dining room table and chairs along with other stuff. I have no room for the table and chairs, but I sure wish he was giving up his color TV. I’ll call him at 8:00. I also need to go to the store.

Kara left a message, too.

Later on, I’ll write about what Mary and I discussed concerning a cat and the crazy pet deposit they have here.

TUESDAY, DECEMBER 29, 1992 Yesterday was an absolutely miserable day. Last night, too. It just goes to further my belief that God will never let me sleep no matter where I go. I also believe this definitely still would’ve happened even if I never had Kara egg Rosemarie’s car. Mary downstairs got the worst of it, but we both suffered pretty badly. The end results, however, are positive. I think they are, but let me start at the beginning. It’s almost like I was back at the NHA. I swear there’ll never be any escape! There’s always gonna be one thing after another.

Last night at midnight I asked them to keep it down. It didn’t work. I pounded the wall once, then at 1 AM, they went to sleep. At 8:00 yesterday morning I called Mary downstairs who’d thought what I thought - that she was moving. She said they kept her up late, driving her crazy. She said they began the same thing an hour ago at 7:30. I told her how many kids were there and that my speaking to them twice never worked. I also told her one of the boys (they were all boys) said they’d be there all week. No fucking way. Mary insisted at first that Andi was out as her truck was gone. Yet she’d been there the whole time and we didn’t know it yet. Mary said someone in her huge family must have a house, so why don’t they go there, rather than in a tiny studio? Good question. Then she said, “Nothing against the Mexicans and their huge families, but where there’s 1, there are 50.”

No shit! Then, with me on the line listening quietly, she called the office. She said she was sick, and she really was and needed her rest. She needs to go to work, so they better do something if they want her to go to work so she can pay the rent. Paula had answered and she said something about getting a letter up to them.

After Mary spoke to Paula, she and I ran to Circle K where I picked up 2 packs of cigarettes, 3 candy bars, a pack of gum and some milk. I returned to them slamming and banging and I called Paula. I told her how many people were there and how they went on the previous night. I also told her I was considering breaking my lease and looking for a place elsewhere. There have been too many problems here, but I’m sick of being woken up. The complex is beautiful and so aren’t the apartments, but the walls are too thin. No, they’re nowhere near as thin as the NHA, but still too thin. The thickest walls were the Woodside Terrace and Oswego Street buildings. I miss walls like that. I can only deal with a little outside noise at this point. I hate it when the kids scream, but at least you can’t feel that. I just turn on my radio, even though there are times when I want total quiet. At least there is a way out of hearing the kids by turning on the radio, but there’s no escaping all those bumps and bangs you can feel. Kara said you wouldn’t hear this if it were at her complex. Maybe her walls are thicker due to how cheap her electric bills are. When I was at her place for Turkey Day, she had her heat turned off and it was a furnace in there.

Later…

Continuing and hopefully finishing next door’s story - I spoke to Paula once and Mary spoke to her twice. After Mary called for the third time, believe it or not, it was Stacey who went to talk to them. I stood by my door listening. She said she had way too many people and there were many complaints. Also, to stop slamming and banging, and no jumping on sofas. Andi bullshitted her in defense by saying she understands, but that I do it too, which is total BS, naturally. I could have sworn I heard Stacey say she understands my situation, whatever she means by that. I heard Andi say they were leaving tomorrow (today) and I knew they’d shut up only temporarily. I knew this about as well as I knew my luck would run out after sleeping well for 4 days.

So, I got those Boston zip codes from Andy and I mailed my mail. I watched some talk shows on TV and their noise subsided not completely, but somewhat. I figured, with kids being kids, it’d have to start back up sooner or later.

I fell asleep at 1:30 PM. Sure enough at 7 PM, they were ready to tear the walls down. I went outside and kicked their door and screamed at them, I was so pissed. I’m ready to rip the shit out of this bitch and I’ll do it right in front of the kids, too! Maybe that would set an example for them and teach them a little lesson or two.

I felt shitty, but it could’ve been worse. I blasted the shit out of my stereo to drown them out till 8:30. They still wouldn’t shut up, so I turned it on again till 9:15 or so. Finally, at 10:30 I realized they just didn’t get it and only gave a damn about themselves. Some folks have no consideration whatsoever and I’ve never ever had a problem with her or with noise from her before, but this just did not cut it. My last resort was to call the cops. I did and it worked.

Now for the surprising part. Once I’m woken up it’s usually hard to fall back asleep. Especially at night with me being a night person. But I did at almost 11 PM. Around midnight there was a big bang (their grand finale), and luckily, as quickly as I began fuming, I fell back asleep till almost 3 AM.

MONDAY, DECEMBER 28, 1992 Yesterday afternoon I fell asleep around 1:00. I awoke at 8:30 on my own, but still, I knew my luck would run out. Andi next door has a very large family, which I noticed last summer. Well, she’s got 10-15 boys over there now! They’re around junior high to high school ages. This is just great. School doesn’t start till next Monday and I hope and I pray they won’t be here that long or I’ll die. Tomorrow, late morning or early afternoon, I’m sure I can count on being woken up constantly. Doesn’t Andi still have to work? What will they all do while she’s gone? How long will they all be here?

Well, I got my period and luckily I don’t have cramps.

Right now it is raining out. I hope the letter I stuck in the mailbox earlier to Kim didn’t get drenched. In this particular mailbox, the rain can easily get in. I also put Robert’s note on top of the mailboxes and I hope that’s not drenched and that the wind didn’t blow it away.

Shortly after I got up, Kara came over.

I also spoke to Randy who gave me the TV Time section. He’s been really sick.

I hope Dennis doesn’t move real soon. I’ll call him today or tomorrow and see what he’s up to. Also, maybe we can do errands together.

Andy called one of the Boston hospitals. I asked for the zip codes for both hospitals and tomorrow I’ll mail in all the information to Dr. Kareus. I’ve also signed the release of information papers. Tomorrow I’ll sew a torn pocket in a pair of Andy’s pants to return the favor. Of course, I’d still do it anyway just to help a friend.

I wonder if I’ll get Tammy’s package this week.

I just hope and pray to God to get rid of Andi’s many many many guests tomorrow before I go to sleep. However, I’m sure that’s wishful thinking and dreaming. With my luck, they’ll be here a few days at least, if not till next Monday. I knew my luck had to run out sooner or later. But if Andi’s got to work, I can’t see her leaving 10-15 kids here all by themselves even though they’re not little kids.

God, just make them disappear tomorrow! Poor Mary. She must be having a blast having to be underneath this shit.

Kara says there are still eggshells on Rosemarie’s car, even though it’s pouring steadily out there. Kara and Andy say it takes 2-3 years for eggs to wear off. Unless she gets it professionally cleaned. I believe she can afford to do so, too. Andy and I know it takes a long time for eggs to wear off cuz of about two years ago. We were out throwing eggs when I threw one so hard that it bounced back and splattered a little on the passenger’s door.

Later…

I can still hear some movement next door. The sad part about it is that I can’t call the office about it. They won’t do anything about it as the only way to shut kids up (especially 10-15 of them) is to totally get rid of them. Plus, they’ll only tell me she’s allowed to have company like anyone else is. But 10-15 guests? I just wish I knew they’d be leaving permanently tomorrow morning. That’d sure ease my mind, but I doubt I’ll be that lucky. Why does shit like this always have to happen to me?

I also can’t wait for whoever it’ll be to move downstairs. That oughta be one hell of a blast.

If Dennis is to be here January 23-26, I will have to see if I can stay at his place to avoid listening to and feeling Andy’s nephew bounce off the walls.

So, Nervous did rip me off after all. It’s a good thing I already have copies of the ones I sent him. This is why I first did this as a test. Now I know never to send him pictures I have no copies of. If he’d sent them back, I would’ve sent them to Bob, but if Bob comes here or sees Kim’s copies, I’ll send them to Fran. When and if Kim sends back the negatives, and I believe she will, I’ll still send those to Nervous. Whether or not he develops them is a different story. He probably will out of curiosity, but if he does, he does and if he doesn’t, he doesn’t.

I wonder if he’s still not smoking. It’s been almost 3 days for Andy, that lucky little shit.

I wonder just when my mom is gonna send me my other guitar. I’m not ever counting on seeing all my other pictures that ended up in Florida. However, I won’t yet dump the part of my collection that made it out here. When I do, though, I’ll only dump part of it.

Later…

If the rain continues, I wonder if the people that mow the lawn will call it off, but last week I cranked up my radio and slept right through it.

A great time for my family to come and see me would be late May or early June before my lease is up. This way they can see my studio if I do move on June 10th or 15th when it expires. There are no models for studios. There’s a model for the large and small 1-bedroom and for the 2-bedroom. Is there one for the medium size 1-bedroom, I do not know. I’d love for Mom, Dad, and Tammy to see these models. Not the small 1-bedroom, though. It’s barely bigger than a studio. I may only be able to afford the 1-bedroom over at the Via El Camino complex where Kara is. I’d really rather stay here and find a way to convince my parents to up their monthly help a bit. If they could see in person how much more beautiful this complex is and their 1-bedrooms, maybe that’ll work. I really really do need that extra space. I especially need its closet. It would make my day if they’d turn the studio below me into a model. They’d put furniture in it too, making it less hollow. Sounds would be absorbed much better this way. This is why Andy can’t hear my TV unless he’s in his bathroom. Not that TVs bother me like slamming, sliding, and banging, but I can never hear his TV either unless I go into my bathroom.

In 1993 I hope to be in a bigger apartment!

SUNDAY, DECEMBER 27, 1992 Yesterday I turned out to be pretty productive. I wrote letters to my parents, Tammy, Lisa and Becky and Fran.

I junked the bed frame I put out on the patio. I really don’t need it and with me being so small I can handle the bed being a little lower.

I scrubbed the hell out of the kitchen. No wiping around things, either. I took everything off the countertops. I wanted and still need to do the whole place, but I was getting way too tired and dizzy.

I fell asleep at noon, woke up shortly at 6:00, heard him stomp a few times, then I finally got up at 9:00.

Fran called at 10:15 and we spoke for about 15 minutes.

I just finished Kim’s letter tonight. Next, I’ll work on Fran’s and Nervous’. Bob will only be getting one more letter since he claims to be leaving soon. I’ll send it right after the New Year. I typed up several envelopes last night. There are about 9 for Tammy, 9 for Becky and Lisa and 9 for mom and dad. There are also 6 for Fran, 6 for Nervous and 6 for Kim. I think stamps are going up, but even if they stay at 29 cents, it’s costly and it does add up. I won’t stop writing permanently to them, but I’ll slow down quite a bit. I’ll explain this to Kim, but not Nervo and Fran. I’ll keep them expecting and wondering with shock why they’re not getting all their letters. I’ll write to my family as often as I do now.

I’m still doing a little something for Tammy, Mom and Dad. I’ve got colored paper, which is about 4x6, and I’m making calendars. I’m making myself one, too, as I had this tiny little microscopic calendar I didn’t like. I could barely see it yet my eyes are fine. So, I have my teddy bear calendar on my refrigerator and the ones I made taped to my bedroom wall. Actually, I’m typing them. I can fit 4 months on one piece of paper. So there will be 3 pieces to each calendar.

Time out for a smoke.

Later…

Well, Andy quit smoking for 27 hours, he had told me on my machine in the early evening. I am to try to follow when I run out of cigarettes, which will be very soon. I’ve decided to take the healthier misery and always crave one and get fat. I’d also like to get off the Theo due to its side effects, even though they’re a joke compared to the Navane. Anything’s better than TD, but it causes dry skin, hair and nails. Makes my stomach gassy and bloated and it revs me up way more than I naturally already am. I have my own natural source of energy. Quitting smoking and getting off my meds won’t always keep me on a schedule, but it’ll help a little. The cravings will suck and I’m sure they’ll never go away. You get constipated for a while, retain water and your metabolism drops. This is why they say to drink lots of water. I’ll die by 30 for sure if I don’t quit and I wrote up a list of the + and the – to quitting. The positives are: I’d breathe better, sing better, save money, improve my immune system, get off meds and rid of bad side effects. The negs are the cravings and the weight gain.

Later…

I just made some coffee and emptied the dishwasher.

I put together a list of 15 exercises for each of the major muscle groups.

In a few hours, I really must finish the house cleaning which I got so sick of. I’m not into it like I used to be, but it needs to be done. My asthma and allergies will appreciate it. I must do the bathroom, dust and vacuum.

Kara’s mom is returning from Williams (a 4-season area). She is fighting with her boyfriend. So, now it’ll be Kara, Ashley and Kara’s mom and stepdad.

I’m a little disappointed in Kara’s mom Alana. The phone is in Alana’s name and I asked Kara to ask her if she could call Boston for their zip codes to the hospital. I’d pay, of course, but Alana said no. Can’t she trust her daughter’s friends? Plus, I did her a favor for their Thanksgiving dinner. I lent her two bowls, so she could’ve returned the simple little favor, which would’ve been under a buck.

Well, since Tammy said she liked the last joke I sent her, she oughta enjoy this one too. I told her that if anyone ever asks her how her sex life with Bill is, she can say this:

Quarter after 1, we’re having some fun in the bedroom.

Quarter after 2, he took off my shoe.

Quarter after 3, he put his hand on my knee.

Quarter after 4, he threw me on the floor.

Quarter after 5, we began to jive.

Quarter after 6, he grabbed my tits.

Quarter after 7, it felt like heaven.

Quarter after 8, he stuck it up straight.

Quarter after 9, we are doin’ fine.

Quarter after 10, we do it all again.

Well, Rosemarie must be pretty pissed right now. Also, wondering who the fuck could’ve egged her precious little car. I still expect punishment for this, but it hasn’t come yet. I’m about to get my period so I hope it won’t be bad cramps. Although, some things could be much much worse. Maybe she’s owed more than payback for pissing me off and God’s having me punish her? Who knows? Time will tell. I think she knows I moved, but of course, not where to. She heard me telling someone on the payphone I was about to move, so she may not even know I’m still at this complex. Maybe she’s seen me hang out with Ellie last summer and asked her, but I’m not really worried about it now. She’s an asshole and a half, although I still very occasionally fantasize about her. About every 2-3 months, I have sex with her in my mind, but she doesn’t know it. In this fantasy, she’s left Rick. I transfer to a 1-bedroom right next to her. Eventually, we speak and yes, it was paranoia caused by Rick. Also, her own private little fantasies kept in the closet. But in time, little by little, I bring her out of that closet.

These fantasies will always be the story of my life. The sex stories of my life, I should say. I do know now and am 100% sure I’ll always be celibate unless I settle. As for Kara, well, I still don’t know yet.

Later…

I am getting very tired. Soon, I’ll be going to bed and praying that Andy doesn’t wake me up.

I cleaned everything but the bathroom. Tomorrow I’ll do that. Cleaning this place sure doesn’t take long cuz it’s so small and I only have 10 shelves for furniture to dust. I do dust the stuff on the shelves. I did that a little while ago along with vacuuming the carpet. Tomorrow I’ll do the bathroom and vacuum that floor and the kitchen floor. Of course, they both take 3 minutes each.

As I said a while back, I changed my mind on my suspect for the firecrackers. At first, due to the timing and coincidence, I thought it was Stacey. It still very well could be, but I think it’s more like something Robert would do.

I took a piece of plain paper and wrote in bold capital letters, “I know about the firecrackers.” I put it in a regular envelope and wrote only his address and name in bold black marker. I put it on top of the mailboxes. So, if it’s him, and I’m fairly sure it is, I’d like him to know that I know.

A guy who lives in the building next to me gave me a couple of smokes as I couldn’t hold out. Kara came over with Ashley and she gave me a couple too. This is good as I really need to at least cut down first. I couldn’t have her stay long as I’m beat. I couldn’t stand it when Ashley screamed, so I was anxious to get her out of here.

I told her to check out Rosemarie’s car and she says it looks like she hasn’t discovered it yet. Guess she’s stayed in all weekend.

Due to being blessed with being able to wake up when I do so on my own for the last 3 days, I hope this doesn’t mean I now must wake up when Andy slams his door too hard. Or gets out of control with stomping. Or by someone else’s door. About 70% of the time in the last year I’ve been woken up by someone or something. When’s it gonna stop? When can I depend on not being woken up 90% of the time? In a week’s time, I’ve been woken up between 2-6 times. I’m sick of this shit. So sick of it!

SATURDAY, DECEMBER 26, 1992 I am so damn bored right now. I have plenty, which I could do, but I just don’t feel like it at the moment. I have those stories to start, editing to do, a new Gloria medley to make, and coloring my velvet posters. My letter writing can hold off till after the first of the year.

Andy called me at 6:30 this morning. I answered as I was awake and had my ringer on. He was on his way to work and saying how more and more he needs and wants to quit smoking.

At 8:00 or 9:00 this morning, I fell asleep and thankfully I awoke on my own at almost 6:00 this evening. The weird thing is that I haven’t heard him even quietly walking around. Not a peep. Not even his toilet flushing since I awoke and there’s no way you can not hear that. Toilets flushing doesn’t bother me, but where could he be?

Yesterday Bob and Fran left messages, but no word from them yet. They’ll try again when I’ve stepped out or I turn off my ringer or am asleep.

Last night I continued reading back in my journals. I read number 5, which wasn’t too bad. Some of it was interesting and funny, but I sure was naïve. I guess soon I’ll start reading number 6.

I’m sure Rosemarie discovered her egged car by now. Serves you right, bitch!

FRIDAY, DECEMBER 25, 1992 The last few days were not too cool. Especially the first 4 days of the week, but they’re better today.

I had my second fight with Andy since I got here. He told me that for 4 days at the end of January, his sister and nephew are gonna be here. I called and said on his machine that I was gonna try to find a place to stay. I don’t really feel like staying here and listening to a 4-year-old kid bounce off the walls whether I’m awake or not. That part was OK for me to say, but then I’ll admit my anxieties took me a little too far. I told him that if I went through 4 days of hell, I’d get him back for it. In my mind, getting back meant slamming my doors and banging shit all over. He called me, and naturally, he was all pissed and freaking out with paranoia and demanded his key back. He said, “Either get evicted or give me my key back.” I laughed, reminding him he can’t just run to the office, say he’s pissed at me, and demand I be evicted. The key thing was amusing too, as he’s known me long enough and he knows well enough to know I’d never fuck up his place. With the exception of Ellie who was never my best friend and who did a severely raunchy thing, I have to be seriously provoked to do something that drastic. Or one would have to swing at me first or go after my stuff. He knows this very well, but it was something to do and to try to piss me off, but I knew where he was coming from. So he said banging and slamming things wouldn’t accomplish anything, and he can’t help the way his nephew is.

So I figured OK, he’s right about that part, we all say stuff we shouldn’t or didn’t really mean, I went too far, let him call me when he’s ready. So the next day I finished editing the second and 100-minute tape of his. I left a message saying I was gonna leave his unfucked up tape outside his door and I did. I returned his key the previous day.

I figured he would never call for me to do his laundry. If he did, I’d have let him know how much of a nerve he’s got. If he can’t trust me in his apartment, how can he trust me with his laundry? He did do his own laundry, then the final straw and the last shit to hit the fan was the next day, which would be yesterday. I stayed up till noon, so I could sleep later. I needed to sleep until 8 PM at least. Sure enough, though, at 5 PM he was slamming the fuck away in his bathroom. That was it. I was ripped shitting pissed. My heart was beating so hard and so fast. I was so damn exhausted and I felt like total shit.

I left him a message as he’d not dare ever leave his ringer on. I told him I started the first little dispute, but this one he instigated. I don’t know what the fuck set him off, I said, but as long as he was to play this game, I’d play right along.

Kara came over and I was telling her all about it, then I slammed my doors for quite a while. After he’d gone to sleep, I was gonna slam my doors but figured he’d have a hard enough of a time sleeping cuz of the anxiety of wondering if I was gonna slam doors. I stopped the door slamming around 10:00 and figured that was maybe enough to scare the message into him.

I then called to leave another message. I told him I cannot physically handle the stress anymore and that I need to sleep. If he lays off of me, I’ll lay off of him.

So earlier (Christmas Eve) we spoke. I asked if he remembered our agreement, which was that neither of us would wake the other up if we got into a fight. He also told me slamming doors wouldn’t accomplish anything, so why does it accomplish anything for him? Especially after two days, you’d think the steam would be cooling off. I apologized for some things I said, but let him know that what he did wouldn’t cut it as I have a major sleeping disorder. I’m hyper and my meds make it worse. It accelerates my heart making me a light sleeper along with being scarred from the projects. I used to be able to function occasionally on a few hours of sleep, but I just can’t do that anymore without feeling shitty. I told him, though, that now knowing how the building is, I would always be a day person if I had my way. Thank fucking God the building’s not like the NHA.

Andy was telling me how everywhere I’ve gone, there’s been a problem. True, but that’s life. Every living place and job has its good and bad. Some more good, some more bad, some all good, some all bad. I’m also beginning to suspect that God may’ve put a curse on me as far as noise and shit neighbors go, beginning with the NHA. Nonetheless, it never was my fault that Woodside Terrace and Locust St. got so bad. It never was my fault Kim abandoned me. It never was my fault Tammy and I were told the NHA was quiet. It was never my fault the walls of the NHA were paper-thin and it was infested outside with 10,000 screaming kids.

I reminded him that there’s always a problem at each of his jobs. He had problems with the people up above him on Belmont Ave. in Springfield He had problems renting a room with some woman named Gail. He had problems with Donna and Diana and other people when he first got here. In his first apartment here the neighbors below him bitched about his nephew. And besides me, he’s had problems and complaints about this building. The people that used to live next to him and Rachel and Tony always slamming their doors. Whether or not all these problems were none, partially, or all his fault, this is just life.

So I said all I had to say and told him I didn’t feel like fighting with him or anyone else for that matter. He agreed and we dropped it.

Later…

At around 9 AM yesterday morning I went to get a package from Fingerhut I’d forgotten all about. It was full of Tupperware and it also had a key rack that I already got from them when I was in S. Dfld.

Andy came over at 8:30, an hour and a half after I got up, and I gave him the key rack and some Tupperware. Then at 9:30 Kara came over and I gave her some more Tupperware as I definitely don’t need all of it. She brought me some hangers. While she was here we filled out no-postage-necessary cards to Nervous, Fran, Bob and Bobbie. We also listened to tapes, ate popcorn, and she wrote a page to Fran. I can’t wait for the two of them to talk on the phone. Fran and Kara will love it and have a field day with each other.

I’m so glad to have met a friend other than Andy who’s so much like me. I can be myself and Kara loves the tapes of both the edits and convos. She knows all our major “lines” now and now she’s writing funny letters with me. You always think when you first move somewhere how you must start all over. Get a new group of friends. Friends who are honest and understanding and have that same weird sense of humor and let you be yourself. Of course, you still meet 10 jerks for every good person you meet.

Speaking of a jerk named Rosemarie, well pay back’s due. I figured I’d wait 5-6 months so as to appear less obvious and egg her car. On her way home, Kara dropped an egg on her windshield. Now, I’m sure to be punished for this, but then again I don’t know. It’s been a year now almost since I could sleep and get up when I say so and things go wrong even if I behave. And I’ve never been more behaved than I am now for a long time. No phone calls.

To change the subject now, I still have that fucking annoying and itchy discharge from downstairs. I give up as I’ve no idea what the fuck to do. It’s incurable.

I’m surprised I haven’t heard from Jessie or Cassandra, but not surprised I haven’t heard from Steve. No pictures yet from Nervous or from mom. I’m sure now, they both trashed them. Fran left a message earlier saying Happy Chanukah and that he is gonna be sending me a letter. Great! Fan-fucking-tastic! Just what I’ve been dying for. With all the letters I send him, it’s only fair. I figured sooner or later he’d get into it, too. Bob also left me his “liquid plumber cappuccino” message. Back when he’d threaten to kill himself with lye, I’d tell him he better make it a liquid plumber cappuccino.

I’m gonna leave a thank you note to Pete the mailman. Stacey refused packages in other names out of spite. Thanks to Pete he left a package two days ago by my door in Lisa S’s name. So, Stacey doesn’t realize that in a way she’s done me a favor. Some will be delivered right to my door.

The package was a porcelain doll, anyway. It’s pretty, even though it’s made up to be old-fashioned. It’s a girl in a light blue nightgown holding a teddy bear. There’s a matching bonnet on her head and she’s got green eyes with blond curly hair. Stevie hair, Andy said.

MONDAY, DECEMBER 21, 1992 An hour ago I began to feel tired, but as usual, I laid down only to wake up.

I wonder what maintenance will decide to do downstairs tomorrow.

I’m fucked at the end of this month. Andy’s sister Marla is coming in for 4 days, which is fine. The bad catch to it is her 4-year-old son has to come along too, unfortunately. I’m gonna tell Andy he has a right to his own company, but it better not interfere with my peace. His guests are for his ears only.

Kara would let me stay with her, but I can’t. How can I sleep with a baby there, let alone 3 adults?

I also made a rule that anyone who wakes me up is gonna get woken up in return. No matter what schedule they’re on or I’m on. I got a right to my schedule as they do theirs.

Unless I get a package, I hope and pray I sleep OK this week.

Kara’s been over several times a week. Our friendship’s really grown and is a very good one. She’s heard lots of tapes of edits and convos and they really crack her up. She’s so much like me and Andy and I really need that. More so now as Andy’s on a day schedule always and works full-time.

I’ve edited Kara a little and Andy did a very funny favor for her the other day. He called Brian, a guy she slept with a few times, but turned out to be a flaky, undependable drunk. He hit on Brian who went off big time with another male and female friend. Before he did this I left some edits for him. Kara and I didn’t know the girl’s name and with all the names to guess, I said Rachel, which turned out to really be her name.

Kara met Tonya earlier. I called Tonya for some cigarettes when I woke up. I went over to get them and we chatted for a while. Then, I gave her money to pick me up two packs of smokes on her way back from the gym. Tonya also came over here today as I wanted to show her this killer outfit I got at the mall. I also wanted to show her the new chair I got, my plant that Mom and Dad sent and that wicker jug of silk flowers Jeff gave me. I also showed her my pictures that Tammy sent me back and basically my place, which has come a long way since I’ve been here.

I’d still kill for a 1-bedroom. I need the extra space (especially closet space).

I got that black lace skirt I wanted for some time now. It’s got a solid black silk lining inside, then lace on the outside. I like this so I don’t have to wear my black tights under it as I did with my all-lace skirt. I also bought an awesome camisole, which is pink and black.

I got a full-length mirror and a chair that’s not a regular chair from the thrift shop. It’s a round saucer-like thing on a wicker stand. There’s a soft round cushion on it and you can even pull it off to lay on the floor or whatever. It was priced at $40, but I talked the guy down to $20. Andy once again said that if he needs to buy anything expensive, he’s sending me in there.

I also donated all my 45s and albums. I better tape backup copies in case the originals get eaten up.

I’m not sure if I mentioned the glitter glue I got at the grocery store. I thought it was a glitter pen and it said, “glitter pen.”

My parents called a few days ago and I told them how much I loved their cards. We talked about stuff in general, but I did not tell them about my attack. I told Tammy who called a few days after they did. Tammy and everyone else in the family have been very busy. She said they’re putting together a Chanukah package for me. That’s unexpected but nice. She also said she got a kick out of my joke in one of my letters. This is the joke:

Q: What do lesbians on a diet eat? A: Jenny Craig.

She asked me what Mom and Dad said when I told them I got a phone. I wonder why she asked me that, but I didn’t think to ask her. She liked the picture I sent her.

I wonder if Mom and Dad got the package I sent them with the geeky grandma clothes they sent down to my other apartment They never mentioned it and I forgot to ask. There’s always so much to tell and ask that it’s hard to keep track of everything. I do usually write notes, which I refer to when I write their letters.

Tonya and Tara are going home to Canyon City, Colorado for Christmas and she said she may need me to feed her two birds. It’d be nice if they were gone while Andy’s sister and nephew are here so I could stay there.

I polished my nails blue last night. My parent’s favorite! Kara saw it and she really liked it, so I did hers, too.

I wonder just what’s taking Nervous so long to send me back my pictures? I’ve always been able to trust him around my stuff. With money and anything. There’s only one thing I’m pretty sure he stole and that’s a pair of black bikini underwear. Brenda, I think, also stole two pairs and one of them she’d always say she liked. Luckily that’s all she stole.

Later…

I wish to hell it was summer again. I miss the outdoors, the pool and living on my patio. It feels like I’m back in MA during the night and early morning. They did say it’s “amazingly cool,” so that’s cool. It’s normally not this chilly, but I’m shocked just like Andy was his first winter here. Right after the heat turns off it’s chilly in here. Like my dad said, where he is it’s the warmest in the nation. The good thing about it is that it won’t be long before it warms up again. Winter will be about 4 months, rather than 8-9.

I just hope I can tan somehow and not get sun poisoning. If I always have to wear sunscreen, I’ll be forever cursed with being white. You can’t tan with sunscreen. Another reason why I want summer to hurry up and return is due to the fact that my asthma should be much better. Since mid-Oct. it’s been bad for all asthmatics.

I can’t wait till my family can come see me. Dad said maybe in the summer. I told him he’d have to stay in a hotel. He agreed as they’ll have the dogs. I figured they’d drive out, rather than fly. I wonder how Tammy, Bill and the girls will get out here? I guess they’ll fly. I figure they can’t take the added days to drive. Unless Tammy and Bill want to experience it for themselves and especially the girls. This way, they can all see more states besides Arizona.

Later…

Well, I’m still wide awake, naturally. If I fall asleep around 6:00, believe it or not, I hope something does wake me up at 11:00 or so. I’d just have to stay up and hope I don’t feel shitty. If I can back up my schedule a few hours each day, that’d be nice. I’d kind of like to be waking up early for a while so I can do more during the day. Maintenance or some other source will wake me up. Probably the lawnmowers. It’d be nice to get woken up by UPS at 11:00, but they usually don’t come that early. I’m not expecting any packages so soon, anyway.

Well, it’s going to be 62º today. The days are usually like beautiful spring days.

The day maintenance was here which was the day after my attack, I gave a few donations to the child protective services and food bank. All the maintenance guys, the housekeeper, Judy, Paula and Stacey were out collecting stuff. I felt it fair to do my share for two reasons. One was cuz my childhood was no bowl of cherries, two is cuz that food bank helped me while the food stamp people were busy taking me for a ride at first. I gave some extra drawing markers and some baked beans, which I don’t really like.

Before doing so, I heard movement outside my door and when I went out to check there was a candy cane on my doorknob. Then, I saw Everett and the housekeeper (whose name I don’t know) passing by with a shopping cart. Everett said he thought I was still asleep. I said I wish.

I should go wash my face, which is severely broken out now. I mean major zits.

I’ve done a lot of editing and gave Andy back one of his 100-minute tapes. I have half of one side of the second 100-minute tape to do. I also have his “best of calls” tape I promised long ago I’d edit. Lastly, I have several of my own to finally get edited.

Then I have two posters to color, letters to write and four 40-page stories to write. I’ll be busy with all this for quite a while, but it’s better than not having anything to do. Still, I need more than journal writing and letter writing.

Oh yeah. I just remembered another long put-off and forgotten project. A new Gloria medley, now that I’ve got all her stuff on CDs. I still don’t have her Greatest Hits yet, but I will. I wish I had Linda’s latest and all the songbooks ever put out of Linda and Gloria and all their tour books that were ever made.

I want my fucking pictures back. Why would my mom ditch them? What purpose is there for that? Cuz she thought to have them was childish or something? Well, that should be for me to decide and not her. They were my pictures.

SUNDAY, DECEMBER 20, 1992 Now I will finish my updating on all that has been going on. Remember how I said I sent $23.95 to the Bedazzeler? Well, my check’s been lost in the mail somehow. That was this kit with colored stones that you staple onto your clothes. Tammy made a good suggestion, though. She said to look for it in an art store where I may save $5 or so.

Good God, I’m fucking freezing! Two seconds after the heat turns off it’s so chilly in here. The day Gordy fixed my hot water tank, he put foam installation around my doorframe. Look how much it helps.

I’ve written several letters, but I still have more to go. Last night I did some more editing. They were good, too. They were of Nervous. I’ve got many other people and many other tapes to edit, but I must go in order so I don’t get confused and get everything all mixed up.

I was pissed at Andy for erasing the 6 messages with edits I left him. He said he doesn’t have time in the morning to hear 20 minutes’ worth of stuff. No shit, but why didn’t he save it?

I’ve been erasing certain messages he’s left but for entirely different reasons. He sings on my machine, which is fine once in a while, but when it’s constant I get sick of it. It’s boring and he’s got to come up with something new and original, or just talk. The edits are always different. I never leave him the same edits over and over. His singing’s always the same and it’s the same Stevie stuff, stuff I don’t like, or stuff I don’t know.

I’m not too surprised that Steve never returned my letter or called. I am a little surprised that Cassandra has never called or written.

I’ve seen Dennis a few times since Bea died. He’s holding up OK. He’s not sure if he’s gonna stay in Phoenix or move elsewhere.

I haven’t written yet about December 6th. I looked in the Sunday paper and there was the perfect ad. It said, “Indoor, all black, neutered & declawed cat - free to good home. Shots, papers, litter box trained, 4½ years old.”

Me and Dennis went to this gorgeous girl’s house to get the cat. He was gorgeous. All black with medium-length hair. Now here’s the sad part. He turned out to be just like that little kitten I had to dump. He’d sleep all day, be all lovey-dovey through the evening, then scream from midnight till dawn. It drove me crazy and kept me up when I would’ve been able to sleep. Luckily, I was able to call this girl (Julie) and she came to take the cat back. I figured 3 strikes, I’m out and a cat isn’t meant to be right now. Moon Shadow was stolen, the kitten screamed all night and this cat did, too. I can’t have an indoor or outdoor cat. The outdoor one will be stolen and the indoor one will scream.

Later…

I just took a little break to make 3 scrambled eggs. Yum-yum and great for the cholesterol. But I’ve never had a problem with that so far. I’m cursed with other stuff.

Well, I know the security guard’s patrolling around as I just heard the walkie-talkie. I wish Dave were still here, but he’s been promoted. Weird too, as he was definitely drinking on the job.

I sure don’t miss Ellie. Despite the few good and funny talks and laughs we had, she sure was a backstabbing, delusional wimp and a psycho. She always has 10 emotional and 10 physical problems a day like Bob, but at least Bob’s no backstabber. Bob also isn’t sweet, friendly and giggling one minute, then furious the next over something pretty or something untrue. She, Robert, Mark, Donna, Rosemarie and Rick can all go fuck themselves.

So far, Stacey’s stayed off my back since she pulled her bullshit on me. But there’s been more anxiety and anger hanging around than I thought there’d be. Every day I drool over the thought of running into that office and mauling the shit out of her. Every day I must restrain myself from doing so. At first, I decided I would whenever I moved if she were still here. But I can’t cuz she can always find out where I moved to and haul my ass into court. Bummer, huh? But an asshole like this is bound to be fired or resign, hopefully, upon realizing just how many people she’s pissed off.

I was thinking of having Kara do me a little favor. Stacey’s never heard Kara’s voice so maybe she can call and say, “I just spoke to your boss. Me and my husband are tired of your harassment, so pack up your desk cuz you’re about to be out of a job.” She’ll be worried and confused, trying to figure out who the hell it could be.

At least I’ve never had problems with Judy or Paula.

The asthma attack was the worst news. Now I’ll get to the one other thing that wasn’t funny at all. I had gone into the hospital at 12:30 PM and come home around 6 PM. Even though I was beat and a major attack like that will wipe you out, I couldn’t sleep due to all the meds they gave me. Theodur and all the other stuff really winds you up. I couldn’t fall asleep till 4 AM, but I figured that was fine cuz I had no place I had to be the next day. I had a feeling for some time now that I’m just not meant to sleep half the time when I want to and get up when I want. I said, “God, if you care about me at all, please let me get the sleep I so desperately need.” Sure enough, at 10:30 AM Everett knocked on my door. I said, “This better be good,” and I explained to him what happened the previous day. He said there may be a leak in my toilet or an overflow system in the bathtub. I insisted there was no leak and that my floor in the bathroom was dry. He left and every 15 minutes till 2 PM they were banging the fuck out of the bathroom ceiling below me. At 12:30 PM Mike came up saying the wax ring broke and I couldn’t see the leak as it was between my floor and the downstairs ceiling. He said he’d be back at 2 PM and before he explained all this I went off on him. I said I didn’t want them guys here unless I filled out a work order.

The attack happened on the 15th. This happened on the 16th. At 2 PM, the knock on the door came that I so unfortunately expected. Guess who Mike and Everett had escorting them? None other than sweet little Stacey. When I opened the door they were standing halfway down the stairs just like Ellie was. If I’d been more with it I’d have fallen to the floor laughing. Stacey just said, “Hi, Jodi.”

I told them all what had happened to me, Stacey left, the guys did their thing, then left me the fuck alone. Leave it to God to leave it to me to have this happen on a day when I feel the absolute shittiest.

The next night I also fell asleep at 4 AM fearing I’d be woken up at 8 AM and get sick or feel like shit. They didn’t wake me up till 1 PM when they slammed or banged something. At least they let me sleep 9 hours even though I woke up here and there in between but I always do anyway. Friday, Saturday and today nothing woke me up. Maybe I’ll sleep OK this week, then with my luck it’ll be one thing after another the next week and it’ll just go back and forth like that.

Why do I have a feeling that all they’re doing down there isn’t all legit problems? I feel that after they’ve taken care of legit stuff, they’ll be down there anyway. Per orders of Stacey when they’re not busy with legit stuff. This is perfect for her to use against me with nothing I can do about it. She knows my schedule and a lot of my moves, remember? Even though Kara and I combed these vents and found nothing, people are weird. I wouldn’t be surprised if she set something up without my knowledge as technology’s amazing and a little frightening these days. If they have the money, means, manpower and curiosity, you never do know just how far people will go. There was once a time Gordy knocked 4 times. I never answered cuz I didn’t know who the hell it was and he woke me up and I was bushed. Then 15 minutes later he knocked again and yelled, “Hey, Jodi are you in there? It’s Gordy.” It was all as if he was so sure I was in there. How’d he know? They’ve seen me up and about at all different hours and leaving the property. How’d he know I wasn’t out?

Later…

I just stopped to make coffee and Andy called a half-hour ago to say good night.

There were 3 Christmas cards on top of the mailboxes with no apartment number on them. One day Andy took two and the next day I took one. They were addressed to some guy. Two were from Houston and one was from Phoenix. I’m sending them to Nervous. I don’t understand why Pete left them on top of the mailbox just cuz there was no apartment number. I’ve gotten mail with no apartment number put in my box. I also got returned to me a letter I sent Nerv saying there was 10¢ postage due cuz of irregular size. Irregular size my ass. I’ve sent thicker envelopes before. The other 5 made it to him OK I guess. There was a total of 6, believe it or not. There were tons of cards and letters and I could only put 2 to 3 in each envelope.

I’ve decided what I’m gonna do if my pictures don’t come when my guitar comes. This will hurt for a while, but I’m gonna ditch certain pictures. I really do believe now, that my mom trashed them. That really pisses me off, but maybe it can become a favor for me in a weird way I won’t get into now.

SATURDAY, DECEMBER 19, 1992 I have a million things to write about. I may as well get on with it now. The longer I put it off the more I’ll have to update. The little things, I may forget. Out of all I have to write about, there’s only one horrible thing. Well, two actually. Last Tuesday I awoke to maintenance slamming the door below me. This was the only time it was a big favor as I was wheezing very badly. I figured, “OK - I’m in Arizona. I’ll be fine after I’ve taken my meds and had coffee.” But no fucking way. I knew this attack was too much for me to fight. From the time I called 911 till the ambulance came, I thought I was gonna die. It was horrible and scary as all hell. They gave me an updraft and brought me to St. Joe’s, which was 20 minutes away. I never realized it was that far.

I was so mad, upset and frustrated. I had gone all this time since I was taken into Natchaug.

The previous night at 3 AM, Rachel had the ambulance here. She probably had an anxiety attack. I thought to myself, “This may be cruel, but thank God they’re not here for me.” Nine hours later I was made to eat my words. I was really bummed out, but like the nurses and doctors said, this is a very bad time for all the asthmatics. The nurse said that there’s no place where I’d never have any problems. I get that but as I told her, I was in the ER 2-3 or more times a month back east. She said she could see it being worse there, but here it’ll only be around this time of year. I sure do hope so and I actually do miss the summer.

Of all the times to need a ride, I couldn’t reach anyone. Andy was off, but he was out having work done on his car. Dennis wasn’t home and Tara was on her way to work and Tonya wasn’t home. Finally, after 5 hours I got ahold of Andy.

While I was there, I was chatting with a beautiful girl named Pam. I gave her my phone number, but I know she’ll never call. Jennifer will never call either, but I’ll get to her later.

FRIDAY, DECEMBER 18, 1992 I've been slacking off on my writing and I do have a lot to write about. However, I can't get in the mood right now. Most of what's been going on isn't too good, I'm sorry to say. Maybe tomorrow, after the tenth time maintenance wakes me up from downstairs I'll write. Never have I been happier about the weekend being right around the corner. Perhaps then I can get up when I want to.

MONDAY, DECEMBER 14, 1992 I feel miserable today. I am very congested and I even took a decongestant and I’m waiting for the doctor to call. My chest and back muscles are tight and lumpy. It feels horrible.

Greg’s gonna be back any minute to fix my water tank. In the shower, I only have hot water for 5 minutes. If I shave, I only have time to shave one leg before the water turns cold. If I wash my hair, then want to shave I can’t cuz the water’s gone cold.

I still do have shit to write about, but I will some other time. I’m also pretty tired. I only slept a few hours.

SUNDAY, DECEMBER 13, 1992 I got two hilarious cards from my parents today and $120! My bills are all paid, so I’m just gonna go shopping and have fun. It’ll be quite a while before I get the chance to again. I don’t need any journals now, so I’ll buy two books of stamps, some clothes and maybe some of Linda’s old stuff on CDs. I should do this while I’ve got the chance.

Got some really cool cards from my parents. They were funny.

SATURDAY, DECEMBER 12, 1992 Kara was over earlier and we had a nice chat and some laughs. Before she came over, there was a pledge drive on channel 8. Andy and I called one of the phone operators and you could see him on TV answering the phone. When he asked if he could have my pledge, I said, “No, I need my pledge to dust my furniture.” I told him we didn’t have any money and we are the very few and rare poor Jews. The guy said how much the station needed money and I said, “I need money too, so who’s gonna pledge and raise money for me?”

This reminded me of the Jerry Lewis telethon in 1989 when Andy and I lived in Springfield. I’d call operator 23, if I could see her or him, then say I was operator 18 and ask if she could see me waving. I could then see the operator looking all around. Then the host of the telethon would come on eventually saying, “There has been phone trouble and New England Telephone is checking into it.”

Later…

I hope the food stamps go up soon, but either way, they never give you enough.

Earlier Andy made us burgers, which was nice. I’ll still need to go out and spend cash on food before the 15th.

I left a note on Dennis’s door the day after Bea died. I said I was sorry, but for him to call if he needed anything. I also wrote that I wouldn’t call or go over there till he got ahold of me. I have not yet heard from him and I hope he’s doing OK.

Now I’m gonna go back to the night of my birthday. Denny’s gives a free dinner and dessert on your b-day. That’s nice, but here’s the part that’s extremely bad business. You must eat there and you can’t take your food home. A person should be able to order anything they want on their b-day as well as take their food home. We were gonna go to 2-3 Denny’s, order me dinner, have two bites of it, then take it home. The first Denny’s made me eat my dessert there, but they let me take my food to go. The second Denny’s wouldn’t let me take my food home. It was a stupid policy and I was in a rowdy mood as it was. Our waitress was no less than 6‘4” and she and the manager wouldn’t budge on the issue. Andy went up front to grab a handful of napkins so I could wrap my food, but he let her take them away. Then I got mad. I ran up to her and screamed in her face that people do use napkins and I grabbed them out of her hand. The girl looked absolutely terrified. She was scared shitless and her eyes looked as if they were gonna pop right out of her head. Then I went and sat down and began eating my cake.

The manager came up to collect my dinner and salad. I yelled that I was still eating my cake and she said, “OK, OK,” then ran from the table. When I finished half of my cake, I took mustard and poured it all over the rest of it. Then, I jammed the bottle into it. As we were leaving, the manager went to check it out and said, “Oh, thank you very much. Have a happy birthday.”

I called out, “Thank you, I will.” Me and Andy were cracking up about this all night.

FRIDAY, DECEMBER 11, 1992 My show’s almost over, so I’ll be up writing for a while. I hope, though, that tomorrow I don’t sleep too late. It’s gonna be 72° so I want to lie out by the pool. I was in it today and it was like bath water and it was beautiful. Chilly, though, when I got out. It was 70º today, or now yesterday actually. Today 72°, then 55° the next two days and 53° the next two days after that. That’s a pretty quick and drastic change.

Later…

Now I’ve got a few things to say about Kara. A few nights ago she was over and we listened to tapes of convos and edits. We laughed our asses off and had a great time. Andy called at one point and the 3 of us spoke for a while. That was cool, but that’s as far as I can have them go. Andy’s friends are his friends and mine are mine. I don’t want him and Kara to talk on the phone or get together without me present. Even though Andy’s gotten better with coming in between me and my friends when he’s mad at me or someone or something else, and Kara has more of a spine than lots of others I’ve known, it’s still too risky. There are two reasons why it’s a little risky. One is cuz I notice that sometimes the more I’m against something, the more Andy’s driven to push it on me. Not always, but sometimes and it also depends on the situation. The second reason is cuz sometimes Andy’s extremely good at persuading people onto his side and pitting them against me. He does know he’s been wrong about doing this to me in the past and Kara certainly has way more of a mind of her own than Brenda and others I’ve known. Kara knows better, but here’s an example of Brenda and the many others like her I’ve known. Brenda and I are alone. I say to her, “Andy walks too hard and it’s annoying and unnecessary.” Brenda says to me, “You’re right. I agree and it’d annoy me too.” Now Brenda and I are with Andy and I say the same thing I said to her alone. But now Brenda says, “He’s a guy, so give him a break. Different people walk differently.” Kara’s much better than that.

Later…

Before the phone rings again, let me finish with what I have to say about Kara. I tried to decide whether or not I should settle. Well, let’s just say there’s no way I can settle for anything and everything. I also don’t intend to be doing this all the time. I couldn’t anyway unless I went to bars and went after butches only. I finally realized what I’ve been realizing for a very long time now. The ultimate attraction isn’t meant to be, otherwise, God would send it. I’m 200% sure I’ll never lust with a woman who’s not only feminine but to whom I am very attracted. So, now I’m gonna go “in between.” I’m not gonna stay celibate all my life and I’m not gonna settle for a man or an ugly woman. While Kara’s ugly, at the same time she isn’t. I like her personality and we share a lot of the same opinions and beliefs. I’ve gotten to know her and she’s very understanding of my situation and wouldn’t lose patience due to my not being used to being with a lover. She can go slowly and gently. We haven’t had sex yet, but she knows how I feel. I spoke with her and I was honest with her. I told her everything I just wrote down. But instead of, “You’re ugly, but you’re not,” I said, “You’re not my main preference, but you’re not a settlement either.” So, it’s her call now. I’ll let her make the move if she wants sex that bad. I’ll only initiate so much, then it’s the other person’s turn. I’m sure it will be a little scary, awkward and disappointing, but it gets a little easier to accept settling within reason. On the phone when we spoke she told me she was flattered. I didn’t expect differently, especially when God always sets it up to be one-sided. I just wish God would let someone I’m attracted to break down and say, “OK, I’m not attracted to you, Jodi. You’re not what I want, but all who’s available at the moment, so let’s just go for it till I can find a butch or whatever I want.” If having lust were meant to be in my life, then maybe this would happen more often, but all I know is that if it doesn’t turn me on, I can probably have it.

Kara may soon be calling.

Andy will be making us hamburgers later.

I chatted with Mary and while on my way back from the mailbox I got a Chanukah card from Fran. What a surprise, huh? The last time Andy and I were speaking with Fran, he asked the funniest question. Fran asked what is the difference between Hanukkah and Chanukah.

THURSDAY, DECEMBER 10, 1992 I sure do have lots to write about so I’ll get on with it now. Bob called last night and we spoke for 4 hours. He moved but is still in Turners Falls.

Fran also called but not for long. He got beeped by an important call, so he said. Andy and I really wanted to talk to him, too.

I sent letters off to Bob, Fran and Kim. Rather than send Kim those pictures, I’ll send her the negatives. Nervous oughta be sending back the few pictures I sent him. When and if he does, I’ll send them to Bob who says he’s still gonna come out here with or without Christina.

I finally got Tammy’s letter last Tues. I had to pay 64 cents for postage, but that’s OK. She never even used the negs to copy pictures with. She just helped herself to a few of the originals.

My guess on the amount of the check was right. It was $25. I’ve cashed it already cuz I’ve had to go to the bank for a new ATM card.

Stacey at the office made an agreement with me not to cash my check in till the 3rd of each month. Well, they goofed and cashed it in on the 1st, but they made up for it without giving me any shit. I re-wrote a check for $15 less as that’s the bounce fee. From now on I won’t be giving them my check till the 3rd.

Speaking of SSI and SS, the yearly raise has gone through. SSI was $16 and SS was $426. Now SSI is $15 and SS is $439. SSI will be taking $10 of the $15 SSI check cuz of that bullshit overpayment. So, I should be getting $454, but I’ll only get $444.

Still not enough for a 1-bedroom.

My niece still has not written to me, but oh well.

Andy gave me tons of no-postage-necessary cards. Also, tons of letters. One card he got from Jayke, plus two letters from her. Also, a postcard from Jayke and his sister Linda from Paris. He’d been saving these up and he gave me them to send to Nervous, which I will. I’ll also send Nervous my sister’s letter, the card from Mom and Dad that came on the plant they sent, cards from Andy, Velma, Tara, Dennis and other stuff.

Randy had been really sick with the flu, but I saw him a few days after my birthday. I’d given him $5 to pick up 2-3 packs of smokes for me, as he had to go to the store. He ended up buying me a carton.

I’m really tired and very hungry, so I’ll have to continue writing later.

Later…

Hunter’s coming on now, but I’ll write little by little on commercials.

I went to call Dennis yesterday just to say hi. His brother’s wife Susie answered and she told me Bea died. At the same time they’re grieving, they say it’s a blessing. She was really miserable and out of it. I can understand this, but the shocking thing is how fast she died. Less than 24 hours ago from the time she died, she was her usual self. I was over there for dinner and she was functioning, despite the fact that she was out of it and wasn’t aware of what she was saying or doing.

Bea’s death got me thinking about my dad. She died so fast and I was just talking to her the other day. My dad could call me one day, being his usual self. The next day mom could call saying he died of a sudden heart attack or something.

Later…

In 20 minutes In the Heat of the Night comes on, so I’ll write for now.

Andy gave me a full-size picture of Gloria, which is on the cover of her Greatest Hits CD. Her hair looked pitiful, but her dress, shoes and net stockings were nice. I put her picture in my photo album along with the pictures that Tammy sent back.

Tara was over a few nights ago. She picked out songs for me to tape for her. She’s gonna leave me her own blank tape one of these years. Tara’s not a flaky, forgetful airhead, so this goes to show how busy she is. She hasn’t even got the time to run a tape over here. I told her to leave it outside my door if she calls me and gets no answer.

Although the drawing of Tammy, Bill and the girls came out sort of shitty, it’s nice to know it’s finally done.

I need to write 4 letters at this time to Nervo, mom and dad, Tammy and Lisa and Becky. I also need to finish coloring my poster, which is almost done.

Bob left me a message earlier while I was watching Hunter. He’ll call back.

I guess someone will soon be moving in down below me. I hope not, but no one has moved in next to Andy yet. When whoever moves in, I just hope they’re quiet and never home. I hope it’s one person who never has company and no kids! I fucking hate kids nowadays and can’t stand to be around them. Why oh, why did I ever want a kid for half a second?

SUNDAY, DECEMBER 6, 1992 Well, I’m not ready to fall asleep yet and I probably won’t till around 4:00, so why not write?

Before I forget, that guy Bill whom I met with Randy at the grocery store never called last Monday. I last talked to him on November 27th. He gave me the typical, “I lost your number.” He said something about going to L.A. for the weekend but he’d call when he returned on Mon. He also gave me the number of some girl Kathy to call. She also hasn’t returned my call, so forget it. That tells me how serious they really are.

Andy did fall asleep, but I went over there anyway. Velma was watching TV and finally, Andy got up and frosted the cake, put candles on it, and they sang Happy Birthday.

Andy said to make a wish, but my 3 wishes are not grantable. 1. Being a singer. 2. Meeting a feminine gay woman. 3. Being able to quit smoking. All else I’m happy with so I didn’t make a wish.

Then, I thought of two other wishes, but they’re also not grantable. 1. Becoming madly attracted to butches. 2. Being able to do a career I hate.

While I was there I heard glass smashing in the parking lot. I checked Velma’s and Andy’s cars, but they were fine. Then, I realized I didn’t want to be seen in case someone did do something bad and be connected to it. Stacey will try to pin whatever happened on me.

Tomorrow night I’ll probably do some letter writing. Maybe editing, too.

Tammy still never mentioned speaking with Sheila. At this point, however, I don’t really give a shit. I’ve got permission to be here. Period. And I’m not a murderer.

I’d never ever date a cop, even if she were drop-dead gorgeous. Some of them are good like Mark and others I met. Others think they’re God, above the law, and can do anything. Well, not in my book.

SATURDAY, DECEMBER 5, 1992 Well, I sure do have lots more to write about since the last time I wrote. I’ll go in order of events.

Andy came over with my present in a really pretty bag that says happy birthday. I’ll write all the stuff he wrote on the card, but first, he got me two very pretty journals.

He also gave me tons of no-postage-necessary cards for several different magazines and information about a variety of different things. I sent stuff to Fran, Nervous, Bob, Bobbie, Russell, Jim, Debbie, Barbara, Mattie and Mark.

I decided the timing was right. I had Andy call my parents with me on the other line pretending not to be there, to tell them I just got a phone (sooner than expected). He gave Dad my number.

Dad answered and when he picked up he said, “Happy birthday!”

I heard Andy giggle. I laughed too, and of course, I had my mute on.

Dad called me right back and I thanked them both for the plant. I also told them how much I loved one of the bracelets they sent as well as other stuff in the package.

I told them what Andy got me and about my card and $5 from Dennis and Bea, my call from Tammy and my package from Kim.

Then Ma said they couldn’t get me my b-day gift as they were both sick. Then, she said, “Do I tell her, Art?”

Dad said, “Well, we didn’t want to tell you, but we can’t leave here. We’ve been quarantined.”

I asked what they meant and Ma said, “The health officials won’t let us leave cuz we have herpes. Therefore, we were never able to get you your present.”

I burst out laughing as I realized what they were talking about.

Then Ma said she wanted to get the phone rules straight (of course). She said she’d never accept any collect calls anymore as they’re too expensive (she’s oh so poor). They’ll call me, but she doesn’t want to pay to talk to a machine. I told them my machine broke so the phone company gave me one. She asked, “You ordered voice messaging?” I burst out laughing and she said I could talk to Dad now. I told Dad that if my phone rang 4 times, hang up. Also, I’m constantly in and out of here so I can’t guarantee I’ll answer when they call. I’m no longer a caged animal like I used to be.

Later…

Before I get into what happened last night, I’ll first cover today’s events. Well, I still haven’t gotten Tammy’s check as the mail’s running so much later due to the holidays.

Andy and I will be going to the swap meet tomorrow. He’ll buy what I want and I’ll pay him back. I wish I knew what the amount of the check is. My guess is $25.

I picked up my picture today along with Mary who was on her way to pick hers up at the same time. It can out so-so, but it sure could’ve come out better. I just don’t take so well to the camera.

Believe it or not, Jeff woke me up. Half the time I’ll always be woken up no matter what, so it seems. This is understandable, though, cuz he was moving. He gave me more hangers, a plant and this really nice, pretty, huge wicker basket with silk flowers and leaves in it.

I did some rearranging in here, but I sure do wish still that I could afford a 1-bedroom.

Dennis is fixing one of my speakers today and tomorrow he’ll do the other one.

While I was at his place I looked at the cat ads. There was only one possibility, but it was gone. He’s gonna leave tomorrow’s paper by my door in the morning as he’ll be awake earlier than I’ll be.

I’ll leave him two rolls of paper towels with two funny notes on them.

Andy, who was here earlier, forgot his. He forgets everything.

He and Velma were over for a while. Andy made himself and I pork chops. Velma cut his hair and gave me a birthday card and a pretty purple hairbrush.

Andy and Velma were supposed to go back to his place to make a cake, but I guess he fell asleep. He hasn’t called and I haven’t heard him over there.

While he was here, he gave me 6 pictures of Fay. So 3 will go to Nervous and 3 will go to Fran.

I wonder what Randy’s been up to? I haven’t heard from him.

FRIDAY, DECEMBER 4, 1992 I got up at 1 PM today and there was no mail. Everything’s late cuz of the holidays.

Dennis and Bea gave me a $5 gift card.

As I was returning to my place a girl was calling out my name. I thought to myself, who is she? Well, she had a big and gorgeous plant with her which I surely wasn’t expecting. Perfect timing, too, as she almost missed me. I figured it was from someone around here, but the card said, Happy Birthday - Love, Mommy & Daddy.

That sure was nice and the plant’s beautiful. There’s a beautiful ribbon on it too. It’s an indoor plant that doesn’t need a lot of light and it’s supposed to purify the air.

Tammy called and I also spoke to Lisa, Becky and Bill. They said tomorrow I should get their check, letters and my pictures. She said to buy whatever I wanted but make sure I tell them in a letter what I buy.

It’s been raining today like crazy for the first time in nearly two months. It took Andy an hour and a half to get home. Due to the flooding and lots of car accidents, he’s called off the cake and ice cream till tomorrow. It’s not safe for Diane and Velma to be out driving in this rain.

Earlier Dennis and I were in the pool and the Jacuzzi. The pool was so warm and you could see the steam coming up from the Jacuzzi and the pool due to all the moisture in the air.

Andy will be over soon and I’ll tell him to call my parents collect and he can now give them my number.

Tara may be over here later, but I’m not sure. Kara called me, too.

THURSDAY, DECEMBER 3, 1992 Tara called earlier and said she and Tonya had a birthday card for me. When the phone rang I thought it was Andy and I asked, “Are you eating?” I asked this cuz he always calls and eats on the phone munching in my ear.

Tara was telling me about this funny dream she had and I knew I had to tell Andy about it. He laughed. She told me she dreamt she was getting married to Madonna and was at her house. Madonna was cooking her dinner and she said to Tara, “I want you to meet my parents before we get married.” And Tara just said, “OK, sure, fine.”

She also told me she’s still very very busy with school and work. She told me her boss was gay and somewhat attractive and feminine. She said she doesn’t wear makeup too much but when she does she’s pretty. She has shoulder-length hair. When she finally met her girlfriend she could see just what I meant when I said fems go for butches, butches go for fems and there are plenty of butches with other butches. This girlfriend of hers was pretty damn ugly. She told me she feels the same way I do and doesn’t want a relationship. She just wants occasional sex as she’s got very little free time, needs her space and doesn’t want to go through the bullshit. She’s getting with guys the same thing I’ve gotten from women. The guy says he’ll call and never does, or he’s always there.

I told her I was gonna tell her something I never thought I’d ever be brave enough to say after the Maliheh B case and several others. Well, I told her that if she ever does get curious, she doesn’t have to be shy. I’m here and I’m attracted to her and would never and could never put strings on her. Well, I know she’ll never approach me for sex, but she did say I’d be the first one she’d go to cuz she knows me and she also thinks that butches are ugly.

Later…

I just finished watching a talk show and I just threw in a tape of the edits.

My check comes today. Therefore, I must see if Dennis will take me to the store. I’ve got to get some groceries to hold me over till I get my food stamps. I didn’t get any mail today so I hope tomorrow I get letters from Lisa and Tammy. There are only a few other errands and places I may go to.

Andy’s gonna pick up my prescription and we may go to a swap meet on Sun. I sure as hell hope he doesn’t want to go early cuz there’s no way I’ll be able to get up.

This Saturday afternoon I’ll be picking up my picture at the office.

I still haven’t begun my story and I have not done more editing, but I’m definitely gonna want to write letters to my family. I’m gonna have lots to tell. I’ll also write to Kim, Bob, Nervous and Fran.

I was a little ticked off at Kara earlier. You know how it is with people. I tell them to call me first and they do so for two months, then they knock and wake me up. It turned out OK, though as UPS came not too much later. Kara also came over with Ashley. I can’t stand it when she brings her over. I had us all out on the patio, so she couldn’t trash my place. If Kara holds her down, the damn thing screams. The reason why she brought her was cuz after she visited me, she planned on seeing Brian and Angel. I didn’t know she knew them, and I thought they moved. They were in Idaho for the last 3 months.

Earlier, a little before 7:00, Andy came over to see what I got from Mom and Dad. He also looked at all my journals. The covers, that is. I think number 13 is the ugliest, but he likes it. 6 and 7 are quite boring, too, but I took care of 6. Yes, I fixed it up quite nicely. I took an old barrette with a bow on it. The material and pattern of the bow are pretty. It’s on a velvet black background with stripes of red and blue through it that are sort of glittery. I cut the bow off the barrette. Then, I ironed out the bow flat. I cut the pieces to fit the cover of number 6 which is a small journal, otherwise, I’d never have enough material to cover it. Then, I glued it on. I used a toothpick to spread the glue out on the journal, then just slapped on the material.

Andy’s now trying to sing Desde La Oscuridad. Actually, this is the edited version. Kara heard it and was dying of laughter. I put this on the tape I made for her.

Believe it or not, but luckily for me, I am actually getting sleepy. Sleep is exactly what I hope I can do now. I certainly didn’t get enough hours of sleep last night. Barely 6 hours, so I’ll go try really hard to fall asleep.

Later…

I woke up at 9:00 to take my meds. Also, there was some loud mouth granny and a little girl traipsing by, and I’ll kill them if I ever hear them again that early! Those that get up early have no respect for those who don’t get up early, I swear. I went back to sleep till noon.

Today’s a gorgeous day and there’s a breeze, too. I have my bedroom window and sliding glass door open. My ceiling fan is on, too. It’s nice to be able to air the place out during the day in the winter and at night during the summer. In Springfield I was only able to open the window from late May to early September just to air out the smoke and dust, only to let the pollution in.

Well, my clothes are in the dryer now.

I went over to Andy’s to call for the phone numbers and addresses of Mass General and Mass Eye & Ear Infirmary.

I called the doctor’s office to ask for Kelly, but the office was closed. Why so early, I don’t know.

While I was over at Andy’s, Fran left a message. It figures I would just miss his call. He’ll have to call me back when he wants to.

I got no mail today but my check’s in the bank, so later Dennis and I are going to the store. Shortly after I got up I went to Dennis’s at 12:30. He had some meat and noodles for me that were leftovers they were sick of. It was good.

I told them about the stuff my parents sent and that I have enough paper towels to open a store with. I am going to bring them two rolls cuz Bea uses them like crazy.

Later…

In 10 minutes I’ll be going to get my clothes out of the dryer.

I’m watching this amazing story of an 80-year-old woman who came out of a coma after 30 years.

Later…

I just finished my laundry.

Andy should be slamming in soon and at around 6:30 I’ll be going food shopping with Dennis.

The other day I looked through the paper for what was available in the cat ads. All the ones that were too good to be true were gone. Some were neutered and spayed and even declawed. Had their shots, too. Those kinds of cats are gone the second the ad for them comes out.

Later…

I am now sitting at my kitchen table which is much more comfortable.

I have my lace skirt hanging over one of my chairs. I didn’t want it to shrink. I wore that and my black tights and a tight black camisole with my denim lace jacket I got in Norwich when my pictures were taken. I’m sure curious to see how they came out this Saturday afternoon. I’ll be choosing from about 6 pictures. I hope at least one comes out good since I’m not keeping it and it’s going to Tammy. It’s one thing to keep a so-so or bad picture of yourself. It’s another when you’re gonna give it away to a family member or a friend. Before I mail it to Tammy, I’ll show it to Andy and maybe Tara. When I get the pictures back from Tammy that are going to Kim, I may show them to Tara first.

Tara and Tonya aren’t sure if they’re gonna buy a HUD house or not. They heard they’re usually in pretty bad shape. I can believe that, but I also heard the waiting list for that is years and years. Plus, they’re not a top priority. A family, homeless people, or handicapped people would be considered first. I don’t think the two of them combined are low-income. Maybe average.

Dennis and Bea are the second and third friends I’ve ever had that are not low-income. The first was Kim.

Later…

I’m watching TV now.

Earlier, Dennis, Bea and I went to the grocery store.

My ATM card was canceled cuz it was only a temporary card. Now I must go get a new one.

Fran called and we spoke for about 20 minutes.

I’m doing Andy’s laundry which I’ll get out of the dryer soon.

WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 2, 1992 I’m still not tired, but I must try soon to fall asleep, as I want to keep a day schedule for a while.

I really hope I get my package tomorrow. I hope I also get letters from Tammy and Lisa too. Maybe even Bob will write.

This will be the first birthday with no misery. No isolation or crack houses around me. No snow. No bitter cold weather. I only had one other b-day in semi-warm weather. That was my 24th b-day in Florida. That was no fun. Yes, this will surely be the first b-day when I’m finally truly happy and content. Of course, I’d still love to be able to quit smoking, make it in the music business and be a butch lover. Now there’s no way in hell or in this life I’ll ever look at a butch and say, “God, she’s gorgeous!”

As for becoming a singer and quitting smoking, well, I don’t know about that either.

Another weird thing about turning 27 is the fact that I wasn’t even supposed to live to see my 17th b-day. Also, I look 17 still, depending on how I’m dressed. It’s amazing to retain my youth and so much energy after all I’ve gone through both physically and mentally.

Andy told me he’s invited Diane, Donna and Velma over for cake and ice cream Fri. night at 7:30. I explained to him (and he does understand) that this is very weird, awkward and a little embarrassing for me. I’m not used to this or being around so many people. At least not for a very long time and 3 people I barely know are a lot for me. I’ll feel sort of “on the spot.” I’m only used to family members around on my b-day or one or two friends that I know quite well. I will tell Andy to tell Diane, Donna and Velma that I may be embarrassed and that I’m not used to this, so they’ll understand and not mistake me for being stuck-up and unappreciative.

Well, he’s gone to bed so I think I’ll leave a message for him. When he wakes up he’s gonna leave me messages.

Once again, I hope I get my package, but at least I got my doctor’s appointment done and over with.

Later…

During commercials, I’ll write.

I finally got my packages today. I got a gorgeous bracelet with clear stones of many different colors. I got a really nice necklace which is sort of hard to describe. It’s like Indian and Western. She sent a gold chain necklace and 2 gold chain bracelets, but the bracelets are too big.

She also sent this little tube-like thing that’s 2 feet long or so. When you tip it from end to end it makes a weird and funny sound. To me, it sounds like someone’s puking. I played it on Andy’s machine and he thought it was Melissa, the CP lady!

I also got 2 more of those little teddy bears with hands that clasp together. Now I have 3 of them clasped onto the stick on my blinds in the kitchen.

I got another tiny little stuffed animal, a cigarette case, a box of pads and tampons, paper towels, toilet paper, laundry detergent, sunscreen, a box of instant potatoes, hot chocolate, a nice and different cosmetic bag, a strap-like thing for the wrist, hot oil treatment, a can of grape jelly, a troll key chain doll, and a little toy piano with 1½ octaves.

TUESDAY, DECEMBER 1, 1992 That was really nice of Kim to send that package, but can you believe I still haven’t gotten my parent’s package? What’s taking so long? I guess this is cuz of the holidays. I hope I finally get it tomorrow.

Dennis took me to the doctor and amazingly enough; I wasn’t there all that long. He gave me yet another cream to use for downstairs and refills.

I also asked him about a place around here for ear surgery. I’m going to call Boston information for the address and number of Mass Eye & Ear infirmary as well as Mass General. Then, I’m to call the doctor’s office back and ask for Kelly who handles records. She’s gonna get them from Boston. After that, Dr. Kareus will send me to someone for his opinion and recommendations.

Andy took me to the King’s Table which is an all-you-can-eat buffet. We snuck some chicken out in a bag.

He taped Reasonable Doubts for me as it was on while we were gone. I’m watching TV now. Hunter’s coming on next.

Last night we went to a place called Marie Callender’s. I got some good quiche there and he got London broil. I gave our waitress a red jacket for her kids. It was a nice jacket I got from Mom, but it was a major hassle getting it on and off. In exchange, the waitress gave us each a free slice of pie.

On my way out Andy and I grabbed 3 balloons that were by the door. They’re on the floor now as their helium is gone.

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andie01writing · 1 year ago

Text

Beasts Part 16

The doors slam against the walls of the Royal Housing meeting hall as I move through them.

“Father, why are the cubs awake so late,” Braun growls. I turn to find my husband beside me.

“I have every right to spend time with my grandchildren,” my father-in-law smirks.

A growl vibrates my chest.

“Because you don’t have to wake them up in the morning. What do you need? I need to get them to bed.”

“The cubs are no longer you’re concern,” Ursinus states, leaning onto his elbows. “I am taking guardianship of them.”

I open my mouth to argue but nothing comes out.

“I don’t think so. I am not subjecting them to you,” Braun argues.

“You don’t have a choice, Son.”

“Your daughter wanted them with me,” Braun growls, slamming paperwork onto the table.

“I will not have your wolf’s insolence rubbing off on them,” Ursinus snarls.

I want to scream to stop this argument but I cannot make a single noise.

“And it has come to my attention that I am in need of an heir. So, I will start to groom my grandson for the position.”

“Your granddaughter is the next in line for the throne.”

“It’s a memory,” a voice whispers through my head. “You can’t change anything.”

“Ursula is too far influenced by the wolf.”

“This is not mine. Who’s memory is this?”

“It is a moot point because I have guardianship papers. Legally they are my children now,” Braun snarls.

“Braun’s?”

“Who will enforce the legality of those,” Ursinus smirks pushing the papers back at Braun. “Who is going to enforce your rights against the Ursinus? You want to run off and ignore your duties to play house with the barren wolf, I will remove you from succession. Orsin will be my heir. The girl will be sent to your grandfather to be retaught how to be a proper lady.”

I can feel the bear’s heart stutter at his father’s words.

“You can’t send Ursula away.”

“Of course, I can.”

“I won’t allow it,” Braun states. “Father…”

“Run along now.”

“I’m not stepping down from the throne,” he rushes, panic evident on his face. “I’ll convinced Tala to breed.”

“And recognized bastards?”

“I am monogamous for my wolf,” Braun states firmly.

“A wolf can never take the throne. I need pure bear blood.”

“Compromise.”

“When you ascend the throne, you will realize, as Ursinus, you never have to compromise.”

“Father, please, this will kill Tala,” Braun begs.

“Not my concern.”

Braun glances towards the cub and I follow suit. It feels like a vice is tightening around my heart. “Orsin is my heir,” Braun states. “Any cubs Tala bears will be next in line after him. Ursula is free from any royal duties. And Tala never hears the word bastard from your lips.”

“I’m sorry Tala,” the voice whispers and it finally clicks whose voice I’m hearing.

I jerk awake, slowly peeling the multiple hands of the wolves piled around me in mourning from my skin. “Pete,” I call softly.

“It’s after shift change,” Konnor answers.

“Bring me Braun,” I groan, rising. “Where is Seth?”

“Kitchen.”

“Seth, meet me in ten minutes in my office.”

“Can’t whatever wait until, I don’t know, sunrise,” Konnor questions as I begin to pick my way through the bodies laying throughout the hall.

“Braun seems to prefer late night clandestine meetings,” I shrug. “It’s time I have one of my own. Go on. I’m getting dressed and I’ll be in my office with Seth.”

“You rang,” Seth smirks, plopping into one of the leather chairs across from my desk, feet propped up on the shiny wood in front of him.

“I need information,” I sigh, moving his feet and seating myself in their place.”

“What kind of information.”

“You were mated once.”

“Yeah,” he answers cautiously.

“To a coyote.”

“It’s a time I don’t like to think about,” he mutters.

“Then I apologize but I need information on cross species mating bonds.”

“Can’t you ask Bayley’s bear. You seem close.”

“I’m not waking Pete for something I can get from you. One Pete doesn’t sleep enough to begin with and I don’t have the time to wait until shift change later. I just need to know if they are the same as our bonds.”

“What do you mean?”

“Can we actually feel one another? Share thoughts and memories? Have conversations?”

“Depends on the bond, just like wolf to wolf. If you trust one another…”

“Say the trust was broken.”

“Does your wolf trust him? Does his bear trust you? Sometimes the baser instincts are stronger than our human minds can interpret.”

“I don’t know the answer to those questions. He claimed to feel me but…I just thought maybe I was broken.”

“I can tell you that you are not the most trusting woman or wolf. You’ve both been hurt so it’s understandable but…Your wolf knows who to trust, she will show you if you listen.”

A knock at the door sounds through the room.

“Enter. Seth, I think we’re done,” I sigh, watching Braun enter. “Sit,” I order as the door closes behind.

“You’re getting better at that,” Braun smiles tentatively as he takes Seth’s seat.

“You’re in my Packhouse not the Ursidae. I’m the only one with authority here.”

“You sound like your Marrok.”

“We need to talk,” I sneer at the comparison for unknown reasons.

“We’ve needed to do that for a while,” he mumbles staring at his hands.

“Just tell me why.”

“Why what? Why all of this started? Why you’re even here to begin with? Why…”

“Why did you break my trust? Why did you make me feel like…like I was nothing again?”

“Tala, I didn’t mean…”

“Tell me why?”

“Father,” he spits through his teeth.

“What about him?”

He sits silently.

“Ok, how about your grandfather? What is so terrifying about him?”

His head shoots up.

“Seems you got your wish and the mating bond is starting to go both ways now. You could have talked to me. You could have involved me. You could have done anything but what you did.”

“You don’t understand.”

“Because you never let me.”

“You can’t fight against him every second of the day. Let alone a single fight with my grandfather.”

“Watch me,” I growl.

“You took control of Orsin away from him and look what happened?”

The breath leaves my lungs. Standing, I stare down at the bear.

“You going to kill me too, Little Wolf. Ziggler never healed from his wounds just so you know.”

“I know you did not just blame me for the bigotry that your father has instilled in this land,” I snarl. “Orsin was killed because of your father and his bastards. Maybe it’s just in the blood to be bigoted idiots. Did you ever even love me or was that just part of the act?”

“Yes,” he roars.

Konnor and Seth peak in and I wave them off.

“Yes, I loved you,” he starts again quieter. “I still fucking love you, Tala. But my love for you does not supersede my need to protect those cubs. I have seen my father kill too many cubs for being undesirable. I can’t let that happen again.”

“What about our cubs?”

“What…”

“What if I give birth to wolves? Humans? Other undesirables? Will you sit back and let old ways win or are you going to fight to move your people move forward?”

“I am not going to let him touch our children.”

“Ursula included in that statement.”

“Of course.”

“Do you trust me with your people? Do you think I am good for the Ursidae?”

“Yes.”

“Then let me in. Let me know what I’m up against. Let me act like a Ursus.”

“I…I can’t do that.”

“Then this will never work. I’ll let the Marrok and Ursinus know that this marriage contract needs to be broken. Unfortunately the mate bond cannot broken not even by the Marrok.”

“Don’t Tala.”

“Why not.”

“I’m protecting you.”

“Who says I need protecting? I am not a fragile princess, Braun.”

“I know…”

“But?”

“As your husband, there is less likely to be an attack on you.”

“As your wife there is a price on my head anyway. Ziggler said this is all your father’s bastards.”

“Who?”

“That he wouldn’t say. How many are there?”

“Officially? Three. That doesn’t include Konnor who has been disinherited. Hannah and I have always suspected there were more.”

“Of course there could be,” I sigh, dragging my hand through my hair.

“I don’t have any bastards by the way.”

“I…”

“You were thinking it.”

“Your father must be so disappointed with you,” I snark, rounding the desk.

“You have no idea. Once he is gone we can rule however we wish, you know that.”

“I don’t plan on waiting that long. If you would grow a backbone, you wouldn’t either.”

“Maybe I need to take lessons from you,” he smirks, standing. “If you don’t need me anymore, I need to start my day.”

I wave him away.

“I meant it, Tala. I still love you. I’ll love you no mater how much you hate me.”

“That’s the problem,” I whisper as the door closes behind him. “I can’t even make myself hate you.”

#a/b/o au #beasts series #braun strowman

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whentherewerebicycles · 4 years ago

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i’ve started crating the dogs during the workday because otherwise it’s CHAOS and DESTRUCTION while i’m in zoom meetings. they sleep most of the day but periodically will wake up to make mournful bird noises (ruthie) or shrieking raptor cries (also ruthie) or just to bark their heads off in blind fury at their unjust imprisonment (pip)

#i put their crates in the closet #they are as far removed from my kitchen table office as i can get in this apartment #and they are NOT pleased

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eddies-puppet · 2 years ago

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𝙇𝙤𝙨𝙩 𝙄𝙣 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙁𝙞𝙧𝙚 | 𝙎𝙥𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙚𝙧 𝙍𝙚𝙞𝙙

When an old unsolved case falls back onto their desks, the BAU calls in reinforcements from Emily's days with Interpol. Becca's arrival stirs the case up, as well as the heart of a certain Dr Reid...

𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳 1: 𝘚𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘭 𝘎𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵

Warnings: Descriptions of violence

Word count: 1,518

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

Becca sighed as the elevator came to a stop on the sixth floor, straightening her black dress as the doors opened slowly. Stepping out, she walked towards the large glass doors across the corridor. She pulled the heavy door open, the sound of people bustling around filling her ears.

"Excuse me," she smiled to the tall man pouring himself a coffee, towering over her even in her heels as he pushed his hair back from his face. "I'm looking for Emily Prentiss?" He smiled down at her, gesturing towards the far corner of the room.

"That's her office in the corner."

"Perfect, thank you," she smiled as she turned and made her way towards the open door. She paused in the doorway, smiling as she peeked her head around the corner. Emily was hunched over her desk, scribbling away at some paperwork. "Did someone call for an exhausted Brit?" She laughed, Emily's face lighting up as she heard her voice.

"Oh my god, it's so good to see you," Emily exclaimed, jumping up from her desk and running to the doorway, pulling her friend into a tight hug.

"You too Em," Becca smiled as she pulled away, pushing her long dark hair behind her ear. "I wish it were under better circumstances though," she added sadly.

"Yeah, true story," Emily muttered as she walked back around her desk, taking a seat and gesturing for Becca to sit down opposite her. "So how are you? I was really sorry to hear you and Adam broke up."

"Oh god, don't be! I'll fill you in some time, but trust me, it's a good thing," Becca laughed. "But I'm good, thank you. How about you?"

"Really good. The last few years have been a whirlwind, but I'm glad I decided to come back," Emily said, nodding slowly. "Thank you for getting here so quickly. You must be really jetlagged." Becca raised her eyebrows, nodding dramatically.

"Just a bit!" She laughed. "But if we can catch this fucker between us, it'll be worth it. How many times has he hit in Washington?"

"Two so far, but it's been a couple of weeks since his last kill so he's going to snap again sooner or later," Emily explained.

"I'm just glad your analyst managed to link them. Without her, we might never have spotted them all," Becca said.

"Garcia is the best of the best," Emily smiled. "She did leave the BAU for a few months, and I can't tell you how glad we all are that she's back. The team are waiting for me in the round table room, you ready to get started?" Becca smiled, rising eagerly from her seat.

"Let's do it. I can't wait to meet them with everything you've told me," she smiled. Emily walked from her office, gesturing for Becca to follow.

As she followed Emily along the raised walkway that ran around the outside edge of the room, she glanced around the large office. There were files lining the far wall, and banks of desks filled the room, people milling around busily, and a kitchen area in the corner nearest to the large glass doors.

She smiled to herself, picturing her tiny room in the basement of the Interpol offices in London, with its tiny window high in the wall that even if she was tall enough to see out of it, all she'd see was the back alley of the building. Very far removed from the floor-to-ceiling windows lining the walkway, with panoramic views of the Quantico complex.

As they reached the closed door, Emily paused, her hand on the door handle.

"Prior warning. Penelope is going to go crazy for your British accent," Emily laughed. "Also, don't try shaking Spencer's hand. He's a bit of a germophobe and believe me, you don't want his speech about it being safer to kiss."

"Noted," Becca laughed softly as Emily pushed the door open and strolled inside.

"Ok guys, our special guest has arrived, let's get started," Emily said loudly as she made her way to the large circular table and took a seat, Becca sitting down beside her.

"First, let me introduce you to Dr Rebecca Harding. She teaches forensic psychology in England and she consults for Interpol, which is how our paths crossed. Becca is here to work with us on some recent killings in Washington, and I want you to consider her a part of this team for as long as she's here," Emily instructed the team.

"If she's not too tired from her trip, I was thinking maybe Becca could join us all for drinks tonight?" Emily suggested, looking at Becca, her lips curling into a small smile.

"Count me in," Becca smiled.

"Oh!" Garcia exclaimed. "I love the British accent!" She grinned, clapping her hands excitedly. "Would you like some tea mate?" She laughed in a very bad attempt at a British accent, earning a snorted laugh from the Hispanic man sitting opposite Becca.

Becca already knew she and Garcia would become great friends. She was warm and friendly, her clothes bright and cheerful, even matching her glasses.

"I mean, that was more Australian than British, but I never turn down tea," Becca chuckled.

"Can't say I didn't warn you," Emily laughed quietly. "Let me just tell you who everyone is and then I'll let Garcia talk us through the case. To your left is Dr Tara Lewis, then Matt Simmons, Jennifer Jareau, Luke Alvez, David Rossi and Dr Spencer Reid," Emily introduced everyone, all smiling warmly at Becca as Emily pointed to them in turn. She recognised Spencer as the tall stranger who she had spoken to when she first arrived. "And this delightful creature is Penelope Garcia, our tech analyst."

"And knower of all things both knowable and unknowable," Garcia chirped, bouncing out of her seat and across to the large screen at the front of the room, her bright blue heels clicking against the ground as she went.

"Well, my fine furry friends, we have a doozy for you today. Six years ago, the BAU consulted on four murders in Los Angeles," Garcia began, pressing buttons on the remote control in her hand, bringing up the pictures of four women on the screen. "This charming unsub likes to mutilate the genitals of his victims before stabbing them precisely thirteen times in the chest and stomach before slitting their throats and cutting their tongues out," Garcia grimaced, wrinkling her nose in disgust.

"Talk about overkill," Tara muttered. "This guy is angry."

"Garcia, were the victims sexually assaulted?" Matt asked.

"The M.E. found it difficult to say for sure because of all the, cutting," Garcia stuttered, scrunching her nose in disgust. "But he believes they were raped beforehand. No DNA left behind though." Matt nodded slowly, chewing on the lid of his pen.

"So, we're looking at a very angry sexual sadist," Luke said quietly.

"You know, I think I remember this case," Spencer said, leaning forward in his seat. "I didn't work it but I remember Hotch and Morgan discussing it. The unsub left the bodies in public parks posed under trees, right?" Garcia nodded, pressing the remote again, bringing up a new image on the screen of one of the victims at a dump site. "If I remember correctly, the unsub then fell dormant. There were four victims and then it all just stopped."

Becca watched Spencer as he spoke quickly, his hands gesturing with every word. His hair was longer, falling in soft chocolate waves that stopped just below his ears and often fell across his hazel eyes. His style was a little different to her normal type, although she did like his combination of a suit and Converse high tops, and she had to admit he was cute. And painfully smart from what she could remember Emily telling her about him.

"You're partially correct, boy genius," Garcia said. "The killings stopped in L.A., but two months later, similar murders started in London, England. Which is where Dr Harding comes in," Garcia explained, smiling as she gestured towards Becca.

"I was called in by Interpol to help with profiling this delightful guy, which is how I met Em," Becca explained, smiling at Emily. "The murders in London were basically an exact replica of the L.A. ones. Same victimology, same M.O., same timeline. And they stopped just as abruptly a year ago."

"We got a call from the police department in Washington a few days ago about a suspected serial," Emily explained. "When Garcia ran the details through ViCAP, she noticed the links between all of the murders, and I called Becca. Thank you again for dropping everything," she smiled at Becca.

"You think I was gonna pass up the chance to work with the BAU?" Becca laughed. "Not likely!"

"It's getting late, and I'm sure this one would like a nap before we hit the bar, so head home. We'll get started in the morning," Emily said, rising from her chair. "I'll text you the address for the bar," she smiled to Becca.

"Perfect, can't wait," Becca smiled.

Chapter 2

#spencer reid #dr spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #pretty boy #boy wonder #boy genius #criminal minds #criminal minds fan fiction #spencer reid x original female character #fanfiction #emily prentiss #penelope garcia #luke alvez #matt simmons #tara lewis #jennifer jareau

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queen-haq · 3 years ago

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Fic: A Woman Scorned - Part 13

Pairing: Billy Russo x Reader

Rating: R for language and smut.

Words: ~3000 words.

Summary: You’ve been sleeping with Billy Russo for a few months now. Knowing his aversion to emotional commitments, you’re satisfied with your clandestine arrangement until you catch him having dinner with Dinah Madani one night. Then it finally dawns on you. It’s not that he doesn’t want to commit, he just doesn’t want to commit to *you*.

Billy may think he knows you, but he has no idea what he’s just lost...

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9

Part 10 Part 11 Part 12

gif credit: @bilyrusso

Part 13

It was 8 in the evening and you were still in the office. You hadn’t accomplished much work today, your mind mostly focused on Billy. You were surprised by how quickly he’d been able to make the funeral arrangements for his mother. Yesterday you had driven over to the nursing home and by the time you reached there, Carla Russo’s body had already been picked up. You’d signed a few papers for Billy and picked up the remainder of Carla’s things before you returned home. Everything of hers was packed into a small suitcase and sitting in your living room. You wanted to call him, ask him how he was and offer your support, but he seemed determined to do everything on his own when you’d talked to him last and you didn’t want to intrude.

You gave yourself a mental shake, reminding yourself to concentrate. This workday had been a wash. When you weren’t distracted by thoughts of Billy, you were putting out fires in your team. At least the personnel conflicts have been temporarily resolved, but now you needed to work on a slide deck that you’d been tasked with presenting to the executive leadership committee later in the week.

An hour later you were halfway done with your presentation when your phone rang. You glanced down at your screen to find Billy’s name on the screen. “Hi.”

“Hey.” He sounded exhausted. “You still at work?”

“Yeah. How did you know?”

There was a pause. “You give off the workaholic vibe.”

You smiled to yourself; at least he was okay enough to crack jokes. “How are you?”

“You mean am I grieving over a goddamn dead woman who preferred meth to her own fucking son?” He sighed. “No big loss. I’m fine.”

Anger and hurt saturated his voice despite his attempts to sound unaffected. Your heart hurt for him, you wished there was something you could do. “Do you need anything?”

“The funeral service is tomorrow.” A beat of silence followed. “Do you want to come?”

“Sure. What time?”

“2pm.”

“I’ll take the day off. Do you need my help with anything? Maybe I can call some of her friends?”

“When I found her she was living on the streets, barely alive but still hooked on meth. I doubt she’s got any friends.”

“What about the people in the nursing home? Maybe they want to come?”

“No, I don’t want anyone else there. Just you.”

Not liking the warmth that spread through you upon hearing his words, you reminded yourself he was probably feeling unusually vulnerable. This wasn’t typical of him.

“Do you want to come over?” he asked.

You exhaled a heavy sigh. “I would but I have so much work to do. I’ll be here for another hour at least.”

“Come over after you’re done.”

“It’ll be really late.”

“That’s fine. I can wait.”

“I can stop by my place to pick up your mom’s-.”

“No, it’s okay.”

You realized he wasn’t quite ready to go through Carla’s belongings yet.

“Bring your stuff with you.”

“Stuff?”

“Overnight bag, clothes for tomorrow, whatever.”

“Oh. You want me to stay over?”

“Yeah, might as well. We can drive over together for the service tomorrow.”

“Okay.”

Despite the conversation coming to a natural end, he wasn’t hanging up. It seemed as if he was reluctant to be alone, probably because that meant dealing with the complicated emotions for his mother. You knew exactly how that felt. “If you want, I can leave now. I can work from your apartment instead of the office.”

“You’re not worried I’ll be tempted to spy on Valiant stuff?” he teased.

You smiled. “As if I’d let you see what I’m working on.”

“Guess no corporate espionage for me tonight.”

“Still going to keep you away from my laptop.”

He chuckled. “Just get here. I promise not to bug you while you work.”

“Okay. I’m leaving now.”

“See you soon.”

After you hung up, you started gathering your things together.

***

An hour later, you were at his place. When he opened the door, you immediately grew concerned at how tired he looked. Traveling back and forth from Vegas plus dealing with the news about Carla’s death within the last few hours meant he was absolutely exhausted.

“Hey,” he greeted you, smiling as he took the overnight bag from your hands.

You removed your heels while he took your bag inside his room and then made your way to his living room. While his penthouse suite was much bigger than yours, you actually didn’t like it very much. Despite the high-end finishes and the beautiful interiors - Billy had obviously hired a designer to make the place look good - it always felt very cool and inhospitable to you. It was too perfect and you always felt out of place inside the suite.

“You hungry?” he asked, coming up behind you. “I ordered dinner for you.” Arms encircling your waist, he dropped a kiss on the back of your head as he maneuvered you to the kitchen. He’d laid out the food for you on the dining table, and from the take-out containers you knew it was from one of your favourite Indian restaurants. The thoughtful gesture surprised you, you weren’t used to that from him. Noting that he’d only set the table for one, you turned around to look at him. “You’re not going to eat with me?”

“I ate already. I was starving. Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry.” You cradled his face with one hand, your eyes roving over his beautiful face as he placed a kiss on the fleshy part of your palm. “You look exhausted. Did you even sleep?”

“No” He leaned back against the kitchen counter, weary. For a moment he closed his eyes, simply holding still, and you found yourself wrapping your arms around him in a hug. You didn’t understand why you’d even initiated the embrace – hugs were never your thing – but seeing him so beaten-down you were desperate to comfort him. He leaned into you, his body flushed against yours, and you held him tight. Stroking the nape of his neck, you placed a soft kiss on the center of his forehead. “Why don’t you take a nap while I work?”

“You don’t mind?”

You smiled up at him, running your fingers through his hair. “At least I don’t have to worry about you stealing my company secrets while you sleep.”

He smirked. “You’ll be here when I wake up?”

“Yup. Probably still working away.”

Billy grazed your temple softly before dropping a tender kiss on the tip of your nose. “Okay, but eat first.”

You nodded your head, watching after him as he sauntered out of the kitchen and disappeared down the hallway.

Sighing, you went to the sink to wash your hands before eating.

***

It was after midnight and you were still working on your slide deck when you heard Billy puttering around in the bathroom. Soon he slowly made his way towards you, dressed in a t-shirt and black boxers, his hair all messy. He yawned lazily, falling onto the other end of the couch.

“I thought you’d sleep through the night,” you remarked.

“Are you still working?” he asked.

“Almost done.” You saved the file and shut off the laptop before slipping it back inside your bag.

Suddenly he pulled you closer and you found yourself tucked underneath him on the couch as he glanced down at you from above. “You work too hard.”

You smiled up at him. “They don’t pay me the big bucks to sit there and look pretty.”

A slow, incandescent smile curved his lips. “I would. If I ran Valiant, you’d be my personal stress relief. You’d be in my office the entire time and do nothing but look pretty and service me.”

“That’s sexual harassment.”

Billy shrugged his shoulders. “Whatever. I’d make it worth your while.”

You laughed, angling up to kiss him. “Your breath is all minty fresh.”

“I brushed my teeth for you.”

“Wow. Be still my heart.”

A warm grin covered his face as he shifted down your body to nuzzle your neck. His weight was heavy as he rested atop you, but you liked the solid feel of him on you, the way you felt all safe and warm. You stroked his hair while he drew lazy circles on your chest, the silence between you two comforting.

“No one knows about her. Not Frank, not Curtis, no one.”

Those names were familiar to you because Billy had mentioned them in passing a few times. Of course he’d never shared any other info, but you being you, you’d dug around and found out more about them. You knew they’d served with Billy and he considered them his closest friends.

“When I found her three years ago, I put her in that home and forgot all about her.”

“You visited her every week,” you reminded him.

“Because I wanted her to regret abandoning me. I wanted her to see how far I’d come, I wanted to throw her mistakes in her face. But I don’t think she regretted safe-havening me, not even a bit.”

The bitter pain in his voice made your heart hurt for him.

“Maybe I should be happy she’s finally dead, or maybe I’m supposed to be sad or something.”

“How do you actually feel?”

“Nothing. I feel nothing.”

“Billy, I think that’s normal. There’s no right or wrong in this. All of your feelings are valid.”

“Even if her dying made me absolutely ecstatic? You wouldn’t think I was a fucking psychopath?”

“You are a psychopath but not because you have conflicting emotions about your terrible mother dying. You have the right to feel how you feel about her, whatever that might be.”

Eyes blazing with emotion, he hovered about you to meet your gaze. “Then what makes me a psychopath?”

You quirked your eyebrow. “The fact you want to torture my dates.”

“Not just torture, I want to kill them.” Eyes darkened, voice velvety-smooth, he covered your mouth with his and ravaged you with a kiss that left you thrumming and breathless.

“Only you’re allowed to touch me?” you asked through labored breaths.

“Yes.” His voice was a lustful rasp, his mouth leaving a heated trail as he sucked on the oh-so-sensitive corner of where your neck and shoulder intersected. Sparks of electricity ran down your spine. “Only me.”

You took his hand and guided it down your body, parting your thighs for him.

Like always, you were soon completely lost in the erotic pleasure of his mouth on you. Your legs hooked over his shoulders, your hands grabbed the back of the couch for support as he fucked you with his hands and mouth, sucking you, licking you, his tongue flicking over your clit until you were keening under him. Body arching off the couch, you moaned his name louder and louder until he drove you completely over the edge.

Then you felt a light slap on your cunt which immediately brought you back to reality. Opening your eyes, you found Billy perched between your legs, gracing you with the most wicked smile. “That’s one.” He slapped your pussy again, this time his long, lean fingers ever so slightly grazing your clit and your hips bucked, wanting more. “As promised.” His eyebrow quirked up. “Punishment.”

“Not fair,” you protested. “I’ll date who I want.”

He slapped you again, a little harder this time, but then he leaned down to place comforting kisses on the very spots he assaulted and you moaned with pleasure.

“All of you.” His tongue lapped over your clit, eyes locked with yours. “Belongs to me. I own you.”

“You don’t!” You squealed when he flipped you over unexpectedly, grabbing you by the hips so your ass was lifted of the couch. And then he squeezed your butt cheeks, biting them lightly before he started rimming you.

***

After sharing a shower the two of you were laying in his bed, your back pressed against his chest as you both stared up at the ceiling. His one hand was intertwined with yours, the other arm circled around your hips. The two of you didn’t have sex but you didn’t mind. You were both fatigued.

“I smell like you now,” you murmured, realizing the soap in his shower had left its scent on you.

“I know. I like it.” He squeezed your fingers. “I have a present for you.”

“I hope it’s not earrings again.”

He chuckled. “No, not earrings.”

“What is it then?”

“Jewelry.”

You turned back to look at him. “What? Like a necklace?”

“Something like that. Except I’m the only one who’ll see you wearing it.”

“Ah. And where is this gift?”

He kissed the top of your head. “Not here yet.”

You smiled to yourself. “People usually wait until they have the gift in hand before telling others about it.”

“I couldn’t wait. I’m excited to see you wear it.”

He stroked your hair, and your eyes grew heavy. Soon you started falling into deep slumber, feeling calm, comforted by Billy’s arms around you.

“What happened with your family?”

Your eyes flew open. Like always, any mention of your family unfurled anxiety within you. You didn’t like thinking about them letting alone discussing them. “They passed away.”

“They’re dead?”

“Yes.”

“Both of them?”

“Yes.”

He pulled you up so you were facing him now, his intoxicating gaze completely focused on you. “That day when I asked you about the pictures, you said you weren’t close to your family.”

“I meant my extended family. I don’t keep in touch with them,” you replied smoothly.

“What were your parents like?”

Irritation surged through you at his obtrusive questions but you had to remind yourself he just lost his mother. He was feeling out-of-sorts, working through his grief – even if he didn’t think so – and he was reaching out to the only person in his life that knew about his mother. “Normal.”

He simply stared at you for a long time, studying you, saying nothing. “Normal,” he repeated, finally breaking the strained silence.

You shrugged your shoulders, dropping your gaze to the base of his throat so you didn’t have to hold his piercing stare. “Yup.”

“How did they die?”

“Car accident.”

“You miss them?”

“Of course,” you lied.

He reached out to cup your face, his thumb stroking your cheek. “So you grew up with great parents, white picket fence and all that bullshit? Sounds like you had a fairytale childhood.”

“Can we talk about this tomorrow? I’m really tired.”

“Sure. I’ll add this to the list of all the other shit we’ll talk about someday.”

He sounded almost angry with you and you weren’t sure why. Before you could question him, however, he pulled you close so you were snuggled against his chest and the warmth of his body was enough to silence your brain and lull you to sleep.

***

It was a cold, crisp autumn day in New York. The outdoor service, attended by only you and Billy, was short and quick. Throughout it, he’d gripped your hand even though he’d been outwardly calm and collected. Even now as he stood a few feet away from you, impeccably dressed in a black suit, his dark eyes hidden behind a pair of aviator sunglasses as he stared out at the pond, you sensed he was a complete mess inside. You didn’t know what to say to him so you simply sat on the bench, both of you in an isolated corner of the garden. Eventually he came to sit beside you, taking your hand in his.

“I’d have given her the whole world.” His voice was filled with pain and longing as he removed his sunglasses and tucked them in the upper pocket of his suit. “I would have given her anything she ever wanted.” Billy’s eyes met yours. “If she’d just wanted me.”

You scooted closer to wrap your arms around him, breathing him in as he sunk into you. His hands caressed your back, his grip on you so tight you almost couldn’t breathe. After a while he rested his forehead against yours, his eyes holding you prisoner in front of him.

“Swear to me you’ll never leave.”

“Billy-”

“Promise me!”

“I can’t.”

“It wasn’t a fucking request, Y/N.”

You tried to pull away from him but he fisted the back of your hair, holding you in place.

The raw urgency in his voice played havoc with your emotions. If you closed your eyes, just for a moment, you could shut out all the doubts in your head and simply believe him - but you could only live the fantasy for a short moment before reality forced its way back in. “You don’t mean those words, Billy.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because you don’t feel that strongly about me.”

His eyes narrowed, glaring at you with hostility. “You’re gonna tell me how I feel?”

“I’m not what you want.”

“And what do you think I want?”

You gave him a sad smile. “The best of everything. Best car, best clothes, the most beautiful women in your arms. You want all that because you need others to want what you have.”

“Is that so wrong?”

You shook your head. “No, there’s nothing wrong with that – except I don’t fit into any of those categories. You want a woman like Dinah Madani. I’m not her. So eventually this thing between us will end.”

His jaw was set in a grim line, eyes burning bright with rage. “So you have me all figured out, huh?”

“Don’t get mad. You know it’s the truth.”

He yanked you closer, crushing you against him. “It’s been me against the world for as long as I can remember. But when I look at you.” His eyes softened, mouth parting as his dark gaze roamed over your face. “I don’t feel alone anymore.”

Your heart melted. The tenuous handle you had on your self-control disintegrated completely. You closed your mouth over his, kissing him frantically as he picked you up and straddled you across his lap.

He pulled back to look at you. “You’re my home. You’re all I need.”

Part 14

A/N - As always, all of your feedback, comments, asks, likes and reblogs are deeply appreciated. They truly inspire me to keep writing, so thank you from the bottom of my heart.

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#billy russo x reader #billy russo #ben barnes #the punisher #billy russo imagine

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lacontroller1991 · 3 years ago

Text

Mr. and Mrs. Flag (Rick Flag x Fem!Reader)

Requested by @myownworldsstuff : Rick Flag and Reader where they are married with Mr. and Mrs. Smith vibes

@h-hxgirl @artemis-cr0ck

Author's Note: I think the title is very fitting 😁

Warnings: Mention of child loss, mentions of abortion, language

The smell of homemade spaghetti entered Rick’s nostrils as he walked through the threshold into his shared home with you, his wife. Hearing the door open, you quickly wiped your palms on your apron before rushing to greet him.

“Hey baby, how was work?” You asked as he set down a briefcase before pulling you into his embrace, placing a gentle kiss on your lips.

“Work’s work, I had clients all the way up my ass today, bitching about how their stocks are plummeting,” he replied as you hummed, giving him a smile before pulling away. You knew he wasn’t a stock marketer. You knew he worked with some of the world’s most dangerous criminals. In any case, you were there to gather any intel you managed to scrape up for the CIA. What you didn’t expect was to slowly love him along the way. The CIA had warned you not to do what you did, saying that he was just a mission, but to you he became more than that. He became your best friend. He became your lover.

“Well, dinner is ready. Your favorite,” you whispered against his ear as you tugged against his blazer.

“You know me so well.”

You two ate in silence aside from the occasional slurp of noodles and guzzle of wine.

“So, how was your day?” He asked as you twirled the stem of your wine glass between your thumb and index finger, desperately wanting to tell him about how your day really was. As far as he knew, or so you thought, you were a kindergarten teacher at the local school.

“It was alright, I had 5 kids not wanting to take a nap, and 3 of them being rowdy as always. Even though I teach kids, I still don’t want one,” you mentioned as he let out a small chuckle before silence cascaded over the room. Your eyes locked with his as he cleared his throat.

“Listen, sweetheart, I got something to tell you.”

“No, I do too,” you replied, hands fidgeting underneath the table. Normally, this wouldn’t be such a big deal, but this was Rick you were telling. Someone you actually care for. You both paused for a moment, urging the other to speak; however, that was put on hold as you saw something glisten in the moonlight out of the corner of your eye before noticing that it was quiet. Too quiet, you thought to yourself before a rain of bullets ripped through the window. Falling to the floor, you glanced over to Rick who too, looked over to you.

“I’m a secret agent.”

“I do special ops,” you both said at the same time, his news not new to you, but yours was to him.

“For how long?” He asked loudly, army crawling to a secret stash of guns as you copied his movements, reaching for your own.

“15 years,” you stated, loading some guns and grabbing a couple of knives as he cocked some guns.

“Shit. You’ve been lying to me this whole time?”

“Rick, you have been too, this is not the time and place for this conversation. There’s a secret door in the kitchen that will lead to the sewer, we can make it out of here,” you mentioned as he glared at you with mistrust in his eyes before giving in and nodding. Crawling your way to the secret door, you quickly stood up and shot your gun in the general vicinity of the advancing adversaries before you went down the stairs into the small basement with Rick following you. Turning to open the lid, you were stopped as a body was pressed against you and a gun to your temple. Staring into his hazel eyes, you noticed slight flecks of green and brown that you had come to love.

“How can I trust you?” He seethed as you didn’t try to fight back.

“Rick, if I was here to kill you, I would’ve. I’m an agent, yes, but I wasn’t assigned to kill you. Please, let’s just get to safety before we go into this,” you begged as he nodded, opening the lid to the sewer before jumping in, trying to not gag at the stench. Turning on the flashlight, you and Rick made your way through the tunnels before you found the exit you designated for something like this. Climbing up the ladder, you looked behind you to make sure he was following you, and when you saw he was, you opened the hatch and climbed out into the crisp autumn night. Climbing out after you, he looked at you, feelings confused as to what to do with you.

“You got a safe house?” He asked as you nodded, starting to walk the way of the house before he grabbed your arm and shook his head.

“It might be safer if we went to Belle Reve.”

“Show me the way.”

----------

Stepping out of the shower, you wringed out your hair with a towel as you made your way into the small room with an office attached to it.

“So this is where you sleep on the nights you can’t come home,” you quipped as he shot you a glare, cleaning the water off of his guns.

“Home,” he scoffed, clicking the barrel back into place, “what a joke.” Sighing, you took a seat next to him, flinching as he moved away from you.

“That’s what it is for me,” you tried to reason as he glared at you again, trying to remain stoic and not heartbroken that the love of his life is secretly an undercover agent.

“What am I to you?” His voice hoarse from the yelling and then the silent treatment. Placing a small hand on his shoulder, you were surprised when he didn’t move to remove it.

“My husband.”

“No, what am I to you? A target? A mission? Decoy?”

“Mission,” you muttered meekly as he ran a hand over his face before you continued, “4 years ago, the CIA debriefed me on you. West Point Grad. Special Ops officer. Leader of Task Force X. The latter being what they were concerned with. They wanted me to gather whatever I could on your team and report back to them. And for the first year, I did. I went through all of your records on your computers and then some, but what they didn’t count on was that…,” you hesitated for a moment, twirling your thumbs as he waited for you to continue, “...what I didn’t count on was that I would fall in love with you. Yes, you were my mission, but what I feel for you is real. Hell, those assholes who were shooting at us were probably after me,” you finished as you took a breath, feeling his calculating eyes scope you out, trying to tell if what you were saying was real or not.

“Why would they be shooting at you,” came out his gruff question as you turned your head to focus on him.

“Probably found out the information I supplied was falsified. The first year of information was all correct, but once I realized that I did, in fact, love you and was not clouded by hormones, I stopped providing correct information.”

“Why would you be clouded by hormones?”

“I was pregnant,” you whispered, moving to clutch your stomach where the baby died inside of you.

“What?” Rick asked, scooting closer to you, not sure if he heard you correctly.

“I was pregnant with your kid. The CIA found out and terminated the pregnancy,” admitting the horrors of what the agency did to you brought up memories of the procedure. Your eyes filled with tears as you remembered the intense pain that accompanied the loss of your child.

“Shit, baby,” Rick whispered, finally letting his guard down and believing you as he watched the way your eyes glossed over. I know that look all too well, he thought before pulling you into his arms and running his hand through your hair as you broke down. Tears poured down your face as he gently shushed you, slightly rocking his body with yours.

“I’m sorry, Rick. I really am. I really do love you, you have to believe me,” you begged through sobs as he paused for a second, realizing that he didn’t care about your past and your initial mission and that all he cared about in that moment was his wife in his arms.

“It’s alright baby, I understand. We’ll make this work,” he whispered against the top of your head, rubbing circles into your back. After a while, he had moved you and him up against the bed so that you were lying against his chest as his arms wrapped themselves around you.

“Rick,” you called out from his chest. Moving to look down at you, he brushed a strand of wet hair from your face.

“Yeah baby?”

“I love you.”

“I love you too,” kissing the top of your head, he rubbed your back again as he listened to your breathing become quiet and unnoticeable. Noting that you had fallen asleep, he took the opportunity to shut his eyes and let his mind carry him into a dull slumber.

Author’s Note: AHHH Hope you enjoy!!!

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sp00kworm · 3 years ago

Text

Black Oak (Part 2)

Pairing: Alcott Glyn (Headless Horseman) x Gender Neutral Reader

Warnings: Body Horror, Murder

PART 1

---

The police arrived about an hour after you had woke-up the whole village screaming. Peswick was far away from the nearest city’s response, and you sat shivering, wrapped in a blanket from the house, clutching it close as Mrs Shaw rushed to bring you a hot drink. She and her husband were dressed, but neither went into your house. They rushed back home, bringing you a cup of tea from their own kitchen along with a foil blanket for the shock. You weren’t allowed to touch the body, and you tried to ignore the swinging noise of the corpse as you sat perched on the front doorstep to your home, sniffling into the cup of tea. The police took off their hats as they stepped past your gate, and you watched as the crime scene investigation and forensic van pulled up behind them. The two officers nodded at Mr and Mrs Shaw before smiling as best they could.

“Would you like to come with us, please?” The male officer asked gently, “Lets go inside and we’ll get your statement of events, okay?” The female officer with him looked back at the tree and swallowed hard as Forensics suited up to remove the body and take evidence.

“Come on, Sully.” He ushered his companion as he helped you to your feet and nodded to your neighbours. He whistled and smiled as he opened the door for you, “Nice old place you’ve got here.” He complimented kindly, the corners of his eyes wrinkled with crows’ feet, “Mrs Finch used to live here. Are you a relative?”

You shook as the officer led you gently into the front room, “It…She was my aunty, distantly.” You whispered as you eased yourself back onto the sofa, clutching the lukewarm tea tightly, as though it was a lifeline in your grasp.

“She was a kind woman. Made a lot of oils out of her garden, but she had nothing but trouble and vandalism with this place. Kids used to make a mess of the sides of the house regularly.” He tipped his head to the wall where the fireplace was, “It was always on the chimney. She never did anything, but the kids called her a witch and all that trollop.” He shook his head.

“You haven’t introduced yourself.” Sue gave him a lopsided smile as she pulled out the clipboards full of paperwork to be completed.

“Ah, so I haven’t!” The officer dipped his head, “I’m Officer Perks.” He pointed to the blond woman with him, “And this is my partner Officer Sullivan.”

You nodded shakily licked your lips, “It was nice to meet you. Thank you for coming. I know...Its far.” A breathy sigh left you as Sullivan took out her pens from her vest and smiled.

“We just need an account of what you did this morning and if you knew the victim.” Percy offered as he sat on your couch, “Spare no details. Even something small to you might be important to us.”

Conflict burned in your throat and gut as you thought about what had happened, “I don’t remember anything of relevance from last night. I spent the night in bed. I’ve only just moved in, so I was exhausted.” You took a shuddering breath and continued, “I went out this morning to the tree and…and I looked up… and he was hanging there, without his head.” You looked into the tea in your hands, noting that it was now ice cold.

“How long have you been here?” Sullivan asked as she shorthand filled in the details on the paperwork, “You said you moved in recently?” Perks looked from the paper to you and smiled reassuringly.

“I moved in yesterday afternoon.” You whispered and Sullivan gave you a pitying look.

Perks shifted against the cushions, “Did you have anyone with a grudge against you or motive from where you used to live?” He asked.

“No one that I know of.” You answered as you put down the cup of tea, fighting the tears and upset.

“Okay so what time did you find the body?” Perks asked. You took a deep sigh and continued to answer the police officer’s questions well into the afternoon.

Perks and Sullivan could drink their weight in tea, it turned out, and you offered them many drinks over the course of the few hours. They had a couple each, pens scratching papers as they took notes and an official account of the events for the records. You looked out of the window as Sue and Percy signed the bottom of the page. Crime Scene Investigations were hoisting the body down from the thick black branch of the oak, working to preserve the noose he was swinging by. Three people held the corpse up as they cut the rope carefully, keeping the knot intact and bagging the rope before they got the body down into the bag on the stretcher.

“He’ll need to go to pathology to determine cause of death…though I think I have a pretty good idea.” Sullivan whispered, trying not to be heard as she eyed you sat across from them. Perks rolled his eyes and elbowed his colleague.

“Here. Let me draw the curtains.” Perks stood and reached for the curtains before drawing them over the forensics team dragging the body into the bag, impassive to the blood that stained their tunics and gloves.

“I think we have everything.” Sullivan announced as she stood up and took hold of both their mugs, “I’ll put these in the kitchen for you.” She offered with a small, pathetic smile.

Perks nodded his head as Sullivan as she left towards the kitchen. You heard her bang the cup on the countertop before you tugged the blanket closer and shifted uncomfortably.

“Thank you for your cooperation today.” Perks took his hat and tucked it under his arm, “I know these kinds of cases are very difficult to talk about. I have this card for you.” He held you out a green printed business card, “That’s the helpline for a couple of organisations and the other side has someone you can seek out if you would like some help talking through all this.”

You looked at the numbers vaguely before nodding and placing the card on the coffee table, “Thank you.” You replied quietly before Perks replaced his hat on his head.

“We’ll see ourselves out. Thank you once again and good afternoon.” He looked at his watch before he opened the lounge door and quietly exited.

Sue scoffed at him in the hall, “Come on. We’ve got these reports to write up.”

“Coming, coming.” Perks grumbled, “Nothing wrong with being nice. They just witnessed a damn corpse…” The voices trailed off as the front door closed behind the two of them with a bang.

Silence.

You looked to the curtains and stood up, letting the blankets finally fall from your shoulders as you fisted each side of the heavy curtains. They were old and embroidered with curling leaves. You tugged them open with a heave and watched the police vans trundle away back down the old stone roads, back towards the hills where they had come from this morning. With a deep breath, you tied the curtains back before taking one last long look at the gnarled, black oak in the garden, and heading towards the stairs for a shower and to get dressed. You hoped that a shower would wash away the sticky feeling of malaise on your skin and mind. Hot water usually purged bad thoughts, or so you hoped as you tried to erase the memory of the swinging corpse from the shrivelled branches of the old oak tree.

You shivered through the house after your shower, wrapped in a jumper and heavy jeans as you tried to navigate the halls without looking out into the garden. The memory of the body lingered with the burning feeling of the heavy box in the other room, filled with an old skull. It was a skull inside. A perfectly preserved ivory skull. The teeth were yellow with age on the enamel, and you looked to the table where the muddy box sat with the key in the lock. The headless creature had moaned and groaned as its head screamed from the other room. You turned and looked at the ornate metal decorations before daring to turn the key again. The lid popped open and flew back to reveal the skull again.

It sat perfectly still on the cushion, staring at you with empty eyes. With a deep breath, you dared to reach out and touch the skulls surface. It didn’t move. No magical energies tore out of the eye holes. It was perfectly still. It was just a skull. But the memory of it screaming and cursing inside the box was burned into your memory and you carefully picked the skull up, cushioning the bottom of its jaw before your strokes over the place where the eyebrows had once been when it was a man. It had to belong to the headless horseman, but why your aunt had it locked away in her home was another question entirely. You held the skull up to your eyes and peered into the bone of the eye sockets as you pondered your decision. There was a glimmer of gold inside the mouth which caught your eyes, and you dared to open the jaw wide enough to snatch at the shiny object. It was a single heavy golden coin which had been wedge between the back teeth. You looked at the old print and then quickly replaced it, wedging the jaw back shut as you placed the skull away on its pillow.

It sat and stared at you, and you stared at it, wondering what happened last night as you clutched at your head and sighed. You slammed the lid closed and snapped the lock closed before you placed the box in the centre of the table.

“What the fuck were you up to aunty?” You asked the air as you rushed to the kitchen to make yourself another drink. As you set the water to boil you continued to curse, thinking about the headless man who what invaded your home chasing the poor man who had ended up hanging from the tree in your front yard. The head had screamed ‘witch’ from its confines, but you had no knowledge about what it could mean. You took the hot water and made a drink before looking at the last few boxes of unpacking and scoffing, deciding that the day would be better spent researching what had slaughtered the man and hung him from your tree.

The village library was barely a few bookshelves put together and you sighed looking at the poor collection of books before you dated to approach the old librarian sat next to the desk. She had her own book open, some trashy romance novel set in the Victorian era, and she looked engrossed as she flipped the page and took another bite of her current tea cake.

“Hello?” You asked quietly in front of her.

The librarian jumped in her seat before she clutched at her chest and adjusted her glasses, “Dearie me! You scared the soul right out of me, love.” she took a moment to take a breath and close her book before she stood with a small wince and smiled, “What can I do for you?”

You could see the questions burning in her eyes. She no doubt knew you were the new person in town, and about what had happened at your home.

“I’m looking for some history books about the town. I wanted to try and get to know the place, but I don’t think there’s anything on the shelves.”

Her face pursed a little before she smiled again and pointed to the last one of the small walls of shelves, “There isn’t a lot but there’s a couple of books on the bottom shelf of the end one. For the records and such I’m afraid you will have to ask at the village hall. Rose keeps them in good nick there, lovely woman she is.”

“Ah, thank you.” You returned her smile and left her to her book as you went to the last set of shelves in the wall and started to rummage through the folklore and history books.

There wasn’t a lot, she was right, and you sighed after about twenty minutes of pulling out books. You tugged the last, thick history book from the shelf and dusted the cover to reveal a history of the local mines and hills. It wasn’t what you were looking for. You peered at the shelf again and huffed before there was a glimmer of silver lining at the back of the bookcase. You squirmed your hand to the back and plucked the small book from behind the tattered paperbacks. It was a pocketbook, stencilled with an old name in cursive, faded and marred with cage.

‘Maria Theresa Glyn’

You dusted the front and followed the name before looking around and tucking the book into your bag. You felt bad just taking it, but obviously the Librarian had no idea it was there, and the name was familiar to you. You remembered the coat of arms on the old teapot. If this was the diary of someone with the same name it might have clues, or so you reasoned as you plucked a few books from the shelf and took them to the counter after replacing the rest.

“Did you find what you were looking for, pet?” The librarian asked as you placed the books on the counter. She smiled and pulled out an old paper ticket to write your name onto. She poised the pen over the paper, and you told her your name before she copied it onto another for you and jotted the book codes down. She tutted at the date stamper and fiddled with it to get it to the correct date. Obviously not many people used the library.

“Yes, I found a few interesting things to have a flick through.” You told her as she stamped the tickets inside the books and stacked them in front of you.

“Well, you have fun...and be careful, huh? There’s a lot of weird and wonderful things that go on around here. It would be a shame if you forgot that, and something happened.” She smiled sweetly, but it sent shivers down your spine.

“Thanks. I’ll try.” You smiled awkwardly back at her before you took your arm full of books and made a quick exit back into the chilly air.

The village seemed to watch you as you wove between the avenue of trees, crunching autumn orange and brown leaves underfoot. The chill in the air mimicked their icy feelings. You were the outsider among them, and soon enough they’d come to hound you out of their home. You only hoped to solve what you had seen. There was no way a headless man was riding around taking heads...right? You tried to console yourself as you made it to your home, and past the gnarled black tree in the front garden. It was twisted and old, and the branches seemed to creak as a greeting on your return. A glare silenced it, or so it seemed, perhaps it was just the wind dying, but the tree went silent as you walked up to the door with your keys in hand. The door swung open when you unlocked it and you clutched at your books as the wind howled into the mouth of the house, screaming down the hall like a ghost before you kicked the front door shut, shivering. The old back boiler chugged in the background as you kicked off your boots and placed the books in the lounge on the small table by the chest.

When the chest remained still and silent you left to place away your bags and get a drink. You returned, rubbing your eyes as you opened the little journal you had found. It was penned with ink and quill, that much was obvious, and you ran your fingers over the woman’s name again before you touched the crest and went to find the teapot. You grabbed the porcelain handle and placed the two together over your lap. They were the same. The Glyn coat of arms. You placed the teapot down and opened the diary to look at the first passage. It was dated back three centuries ago, back when the alliance was beginning to form between the different races, monsters and humans alike, though you could tell this village hadn’t had such luxury. The entire populace was human, apart from the dairy farmers four miles outside the walls of the village. They were large goblins of some kind, cave dwelling and gangly limbed from years in the dark, but you had only seen them.

The first passage was written in neat, printed cursive, echoing the care the woman had taken to write her feelings and events down.

‘Today is the day of my birth. My birthday rather. I was given this journal by the kind Mister Glynn, as a gift, and so I find myself beginning to write down the events of my daily life, so perhaps I can look back on it and reminisce when I am old and grey.

Mister Glyn is a kind soul. He is part of the King’s Royal Entourage and the Commander of a large cavalry unit. Why he is in this small village is unknown to us all, but my father suspects it is because of the Wood Witch. Perhaps he has been tasked with taking her head? It is rumoured the armour he has is enchanted against such magic, but I feel as though those are rumours made about a dangerous and powerful man to excite fear.

He is nothing but polite to me. I suppose my father will want to marry me off to this one as well.’

The passages were perhaps a couple of pages maximum, and you flicked through the dates quickly, watching her words change from cold and indifferent to soft and loving of the man see always called Mister Glyn. It wasn’t until a year later in the diary that you saw his true name.

‘Alcott escorted me to the capital atop Mallor, his beast of a horse, though the creature seems to like me now that I bring him sugar lumps. Alcott wished to show me the city and its fruits though there is rather less fruit and more muck and grime. I am used to mud on my shoes, but I despised the odour of the place, much to his amusement. As I write, I can hear him snickering at me across the table.’

There was a few blotches of ink and another set of handwriting.

‘She stood in a man’s excrement.’

Their trip seemed peaceful, and Maria even attended a gathering at court. It seemed well until you found the final page in the diary, written across a page in shaky ink.

‘They took his head.’

There was no fond farewell at the bottom of the page or a cursive signature. It was stark and naked on the yellowed paper, like a bad omen forever preserved. You ran your fingers over the words before you flicked through the last pages seeing nothing but blood splodges and blackened dark blood at the corners. It smelt faintly of rot, and you recoiled from the smell as you looked at the empty bare pages. The back of the book was burned across the inside of the cover. It was mysterious but it seemed like Alcott Glyn had been killed. But by who? You had no idea but as you looked at the chest again and thought of the head inside you shuddered.

Alcott Glyn. There had to be a grave. You tugged your bag open and stuffed the book inside before you rushed out of the door, locking it quickly as you rushed towards the little church. It was at the top of the hill, sat in a mound of earth, subsiding on one side with props and scaffolding to try and hold it up. It wasn’t used anymore, the town hall was used to any religious needs, but it was haunting. The stained glass was dirty, and the front doors bolted and chained to prevent anyone entering. You rushed around the side of the church and looked at the dates on the graves and the dates in the diary. It had to be the 1700s. You thought back to your history lessons and tried to recall the date of the alliance war. 1774. You rushed around the small paths and glanced at the years, 1770, 1772, 1773... you looked at the gap where the 1774 stone should have stood. There was nothing, just unchurned earth and a set of roses growing from the floor. A troubling feeling settled in your gut as you meandered down the path to the back of the overgrown graveyard. There were old stones, crumbling and forgotten under blackberry vines and leaves. It was chance that you leaned down next to a short stone and looked at the faded name.

Alcott Glyn.

The name was chipped and faded, like the memory of the man. Vines grew in wild abandon over the grave, and the blackberry vines had taken over the base, winding around the whole stone with wide dying leaves. It was perfectly hidden and forgotten about. The village’s little secret in the secluded corner of the graveyard, forgotten and buried. Or apparently, not buried completely. The earth was turned over, like something had ruptured from the ground and burst free. It was a long patch of upturned soil, as long as you were tall, or even longer, and the earth and stones were wet, fresh with the rain from the evening and being upturned, as though someone had run a plower through it. Carefully, you ran your fingers through the earth, feeling the soil between your fingers before you took a steadying breath.

“Someone came out of this…” You breathed into the chilly air, your breath making mist with the cold as you stood and looked over the grave. You said it again before turning and bolting from the graveyard before the night could fall over the village.

When you reached home, you threw your bag onto the couch and grabbed the chest, prising the lock open to peer at the skull inside. It was sat, still as a statue, on the cushion, with the glimmer of gold between its jaws. You lifted it from the cushion, carefully, pulling it up to your face level as the sun set over the horizon, bathing you in a golden glow with the skull clasped between your hands. There was nothing but the distant hum of the hot water pipes in the old house to answer your stare. The skull did nothing. It sat in your hands as the sunlight died over the horizon and the night began to settle in. In your gut, disappointment settled with the cold reminder that you were holding a dead man’s skull. A real human skull. Carefully, you placed it back down on the cushion and sighed as you went to draw the curtains, ignoring the creaking of the gnarled oak tree outside your door.

The wind blew as you looked back at the head in the chest, positioned slightly skewed on the cushion. You chewed your lip and sighed before you stood over it again.

“Alcott Glyn.” You whispered to the skull. Nothing. The old electrics flickered for a moment, dimming before they brightened again. Silence, except for the hum of the back boiler. The breath you had been holding escaped and you turned away with a grumble before the lights surged bright and yellow, like the sun, before the bulbs exploded in a sudden thunder of noise. Glass shattered and flew across the carpet in a shower, and you gasped, covering your ears before you looked back at the cushion.

The head was sat, jaw agape, with two lights in the blackened sockets, rolling side to side. The little lights rolled like stoned before they settled on you and the open jaw began to jitter, chattering the yellowed teeth together loudly. The skull didn’t move, just snapped it’s teeth like a scared dog before it stopped, and the eyes dimmed. It was only a moment of silence before there were three heavy pounds on your door. With a gasp you rushed to draw the curtains, and gazed upon the creature stood on your doorstep, his steed kicking and throwing it’s head by the twisted roots of the black tree. The body stood there, breathing, its undead chest moving as though it needed the air.

“Alcott Glyn.” You whispered again with a dry mouth. All the moisture dried up from you and you tried not to shake as the skull slammed against the side of the box, it’s eyes glowing.

It shook and chattered its teeth before a voice screamed from between the open jaw, “Let me in, witch!”

Fear twisted your guts as you rushed to slam the chest shut on the screaming skull. It chanted inside the decorative metal, hollering about burning you at the stake before you took it to the front door. The horseman slammed his fist on the door again, repeatedly, as though he was going to tear it open, and you shivered as your fingers shook by the latch and keys.

The horseman began to bang repeatedly and the head in the chest slammed around, shaking your arms as you struggled to keep hold of it. You took a stuttering breath and unlatched the door, turning the keys before you wrenched it open. The headless horseman heaved puffs of misty breath up from the stump of his neck, his trachea flexing with the movement as the nerves of his spinal cord twitched and thrummed behind it, imitating life in his corpse body.

“Witch!” the skull screamed again, his head you realised as you stepped back, and the creature followed. His boots left muddy smeared marks on the wooden floors, and you looked down to see the crushed blackberries over the soles. Your heart pounded as you realised, he had crawled from the grave you had sat by earlier.

“I saw you by my grave. I will not do business with you again.” His voice came from his body this time, contorted and dark as it leaked from his lungs like a wisp.

“Business? What business have you?” You asked, voice shaking with fear.

The skull laughed in its box, a malicious and evil noise, dark and tempting, as though you were truly stupid for asking, “What business did we not have? Have you forgotten in your age, crone? Death and blood, that’s what you wanted, and I delivered it.”

“Who did you have the deal with?” You steeled yourself.

“You, you pathetic soothsayer.” He droned before his dead fist slammed the door closed, “Now give me my head. Our bargain is met.”

“I am not my aunty.” You tried, “I have no deal with you.”

The horseman stopped, his body stiffening as his horse brayed and screamed outside, kicking its hooves at the black oak with a great smash. The tree shook, shedding twigs, but didn’t fall. He stalked closer, the bulk of his frame blocking out the light from the moon and the electric fitting overhead.

“But you have my head.” The skull whispered from inside the box before he grabbed for the chest. He touched the metal of the latch and screamed, the noise escaping the corpse before you and the skull inside the box. It was an ear piercing, unholy noise which burned your ears and made your head swim in agony. The horseman clutched at his chest and the stump of his neck, his gloved fingers pressing into the gored wound of his neck as he wobbled towards the wall and grasped at it for balance.

“Fuck.” You cursed before you whipped the chest open and grabbed his skull by its eye sockets, hanging it over him as he slid down the wall and screamed again in agony, twitching against the wood.

“If I give you your head, horseman, will you indebt yourself to me? Your previous contract will be null, and you will only serve me.” You announced.

The horseman writhed before going deathly still. He laid like a corpse for a moment or two before shakily he braced his arm against the floor and pushed himself up. With a shudder he got onto his knees and kneeled before you, his neck dipped to expose the sore, congealed wound of his decapitation.

“I... I will serve.” The horseman gurgled.

“Then I give you your head to end your torment, Alcott Glyn.” You promised before you held his skull between your palms and lowered it to the spinal column of his body.

There was a great groan as the spine extended from Alcott’s body and snapped to the skull, holding it in place as the eyes burned bright with purple light, the colour of blackberries, rolling in his skull as he reached and clasped at the bone, howling as light burned from the base of his neck and enveloped his skull with a whoosh of purple fire. The fire abated quickly as the moonlight disappeared behind the curtains and the skull shimmered as muscle and tendons swarmed the bone, linking and covering the surface before the he howled, and skin crept from his neck to his face, covering the surface in a perfect alabaster coating. His eyes however, remained voids of black, the centres beautiful blackberry lights in the dimness of your home. Black waves of hair grew from his head, dripping over his shoulders like ink as he howled, leaned against the old wallpaper. They finished growing with a crackle of fire, purple flames licking at the ends before it disappeared, leaving a heaving, black eyed creature curled against the wooden floor.

Your mouth hung open as you watched the horseman shake against the wood, heaving as he reached to clutch at the hair that draped from his previously naked skull. The inky waves slid through his gloved hands and was quickly marred with dirt and blood before he peered at you through the curtain, looking at you with the purple lights in his irises which were sunken back into his skull. His lips parted before he took a deep breath, wheezing out dust and muck, coughing like a goose before he kicked the chapped skin and crawled closer to your feet. He only looked at you, staring before one gloved hand whipped out and snatched your ankle, holding it tightly in an iron grip.

“Bound to your bloodline again...” he growled, “Humiliating.” Before he pushed himself back and stood, swaying on his legs like a new-born deer as his balance came back to him. Having a head was a heavy burden.

“I don’t even know what you’re talking about.” You breathed as Alcott slammed the side of his head and beat dirt out of his ears.

“Of course, you don’t. None of you ever do. Now I’m bound here to you until the day you drop dead and rot. Why can you never let me die?” He growled in a worked-up fury, flinging his hands to the windows before he stalked to the door, his boots slamming against the wood. He swung it open, and his mount brayed in greeting, throwing its giant head back before it caught sight of you and snorted, bowing it’s neck like a graceful Swan.

“You are all the same!” The horseman shouted before the moon was revealed, a cloud moving away from its white surface. He shuddered and you watched the skin on his face disappear with the muscle, revealing the purple lights in a bare, burning skull. As the cloud recovered the moon, the base of his neck flared with purple smoke and fire, revealing the scar where he was decapitated, and his face reappeared.

“I gave you your head back, Alcott!” You shouted after him.

The horseman shivered and turned back to you, looking at you with his haunting eyes, both hands gripping the pommel and stand of the saddle, “How do you know my name?” He whispered in questioning.

With a small breath, you locked your lips nervously and ducked back to the table, grabbing the little diary from you bag before you stood on your porch and held it out to the wraith, “Maria wrote about you.”

He growled and snatched at the book, and you let him take it with a painful smile, “I know the townspeople killed you. They betrayed you. I don’t know what happened to Maria.” You confessed.

Alcott opened the diary and flicked through it before he looked at the night sky, “She lived in mourning the rest of her life. They institutionalised her after they found her carrying my head, wailing through the town. She died, high on cocktails of medicines, with her head buried in the soft soil of a flower bed.”

The revelation was something of a shock and you looked at the undead man in front of you with a bitter, pitying look.

“You watched her die, didn’t you?” You asked, barely above a whisper.

The horseman scoffed, “That was the curse after all. To terrorise the town for their betrayal. But not her. I used to try call to her from the window, but she never could bare to look at me. Eventually they gave her more cocktails and she stopped coming to the window all together.”

“Jesus Christ.” You cursed.

“Such foul language.” Alcott sneered as he snapped the diary shut in his gloved hand, “She died from the madness and grief. That is the fault of the town and its yet another reason to run into each of these homes and tear their heads from their bodies.” Alcott spat furiously. As fury overtook him you could see the white scarred seem of where his head had been replaced burning with smoke the purple fumes puffing from it like a new wound before his neck popped and cracked, sending his head to the left, hanging on by a thread of flesh to the other side. You let out a screech and clasped your mouth as the horseman gurgled and reached for his head, grasping it by the hair before he groaned and dragged it back into place, snapping the vertebrae back into place with a twist and a squelch of bloodied tissue. It cracked again quickly, and Alcott held the top of his hair tightly with a groan as the smoke poured from his mouth and his head twisted backwards like a ghoul, spinning on his neck before it snapped again and came free, rolling over the floor to your feet as a skull. The flesh and hair melted in waves of muck from its surface, and you shakily took hold of the skull again.

The horseman stumbled left and right as he reached towards you for his head.

“MY HEAD, WITCH!” He howled at you, but you dashed back up the porch steps and held it protectively.

“You are under my command. Anything against my wishes is against our contract...so you lose your head. Do you hear me horseman?” You blagged, hoping you were right, “So there will be no killing.”

“Evil, corrupt creature. I'll hang you by your feet and bleed you from the neck!” Alcott threatened as fire and smoke poured from his throbbing trachea. The smoke puffed before he went sent to the floor in agony, the black oak behind him creaking and swaying left and right as though the roots were snaking towards him. Sure enough, the ground rumbled, and the black oak’s roots exploded from the ground, snagging the horseman by his wrists and ankles hoisting him into the air as the branches hissed and his mount, Mallor, brayed and screamed, blood spraying over the fence from the horses broken throat.

It was a curse. You should have expected as much, but you shook as the tree cinched the man’s limbs, holding them tight before it pulled, making him scream in agony as his joints were pulled tight.

“Stop!” You screamed, and the tree stopped pulling, holding the horseman aloft still as it swayed and bent towards you, its branches touching your head as though trying to figure out who you were.

“He is mine.” You told the tree, “He will obey and submit to the laws of his contract.”

The tree groaned, it’s roots wiggling in the cold, hard earth for a moment before it dropped Alcott like a sack of grain and settled down quietly, smacking at the horse inching closer to its trunk.

Alcott touched at his neck as he rose, swaying as he cracked and snapped his joints back into place like a disjointed puppet.

“Are you going to play nice now?” You asked as the man wheezed in front of you. When he nodded you offered him his skull back and watched the skin and flesh cover its surface again before he snarled behind his curtain of overgrown hair, blackberry-coloured lights burning the void of his eyes.

“You truly are her kin if that disgusting thing listens to you.” He snapped as he headed for his horse and mounted the saddle with a quick bounce on one powerful leg, his thighs locking tight around the beast’s sides as it bucked and brayed. Alcott turned his horse and tipped his head with a wave of purple smoke and fire, “Call on me then, witch, and see what havoc I can wreak for you.” Alcott laughed bitterly as he turned Mallor onto the cobbled drive and rode onto the road, his face becoming bone and flesh intermittently as the clouds passed overhead.

“I’m not a witch!” You screamed after the horseman, but he was gone into the mist and the trees, unlikely to have heard you cursing against the stairs of the porch as you collapsed.

#headless horseman x reader #alcott glyn x reader #headless horseman x gender neutral reader #headless horseman #alcott glyn #dullahan x reader #dullahan #dullahan x gender neutral reader #monster x reader #monster boyfriend #monster boy #monster bf #monster boyfriend x reader #monster reader inserts #reader inserts #my writing #original works

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mommymooze · 3 years ago

Text

Can You See What is Growing Before Your Eyes?

seteth & Flayn, Reader & Flayn, Seteth X Reader

Sitting on the fishing dock as the sunset blazes across the skies, it is quiet and peaceful in the monastery. You can almost imagine there is not a war going on, that the Imperial army isn’t marching towards your location to attack you and your friends who have arrived for the Millennium festival. Your thoughts are peaceful as you observe the rose and orange colored skies reflected in the pond Your bobber floats motionless on the calm waters.

“Are the fish biting?” Flayn calls from the far side of the water.

Just as she speaks your bobber begins to twitch. You hold up a finger with one hand as you grasp your pole more firmly in the other. Watching, waiting, suddenly the red and white float goes under, you jerk the line, hooking the fish. It is a short battle, the bullhead gives up quickly.

“It’s about average.” You answer as you look over your basket. “I have 15 fish, so after a few more I will bring them to the kitchens.”

“How are you able to catch such an abundant amount? My brother and I would be here for half a day or more and still not catch that quantity.” Flayn chides, her hands on her hips.

“If I had any fishing secrets, I would not hesitate to share them with you and Seteth.” You smile.

“Perhaps I shall watch you and learn of your mysterious technique.” Flayn decides, sitting on an empty crate nearby.

Retrieving and rebaiting your hook, you toss it back into the water, causing ripples to spread across the pond. You sit, still as a statue. Out of the corner of your eye you watch Flayn switch the position of her legs, then look around, fix her hair, and otherwise appear bored. You have not moved, except to shoo a bug from getting close to your eye. Even that movement was performed slowly and silently.

The bobber twitches in the water, moves left, stops briefly and heads right. It becomes halfway submerged, only to pop back up again immediately. You do not move. It begins moving away from your position. Just as it submerges you yank the line and are fighting the hooked fish. The fish jumps, trying to get away, however you keep steady with your pull on the line, hauling it closer to the dock.

“A golden fish!” Flayn excitedly laughs.

Hauling your catch close to the dock, you grab the fish by its jaw, remove the hook and secure it in your bucket.

“That one will pay for the accompaniments to an excellent fish stew!” You announce, beginning to pack up your fishing equipment.

“I did not see anything special about your technique. You used a worm and I saw no special powder or magic cast upon it. Strange.” Flayne ponders.

“First, you must learn to be one with the water. If it is still, you must be still. If it moves, you can move. The fish will be disturbed by your wiggling, especially on the dock.” You share your wisdom with the lovely young lady.

“I will have to tell my brother of this discovery, and that we will be having a fine fish stew this evening. Thank you!”

Selling your fish in the market, you take the rest to the kitchens. The cooks are thrilled to be able to provide a hearty and protein filled meal to the masses, there will be enough to go around. More and more people are arriving at the monastery to assist with the war efforts.

After returning your belongings to your quarters you head to the Cathedral to give prayers of thanks. Thanks for the food today, for so many willing to help defend the church, for the return of so many students and for the return of Professor Byleth. Now that they are back, hopefully they can lead the church and Blue Lions to victory. Your mind falters at that, observing the wounded and broken man that Dimitri has become. You watch as the Professor approaches him, trying to speak to him, trying to get him to eat. The conversation is one sided. Dimitri says nothing. Your eyes go wide as he leaps at the Professor and throws them against a stone column, then returns to his place at the crumbled goddess statue.

Without thinking you run to Byleth’s side. You are well within Dimitri’s range, but your focus is Byleth. Their head is bleeding, and they are moaning. Quickly you heal the head wound. It is not deep, however there is a lot of blood. You struggle to drag them further from Dimitri to a safer part of the Cathedral.

“Professor, can you hear me? Please?” You whisper to them, your voice shaking. They’ve just returned from being gone for five years, it would be horrible to lose them again so soon.

The professor shakes their head. “I am okay. He caught me off guard.” They answer as you help them to their feet.

“Can I take you to the infirmary? Do you have pain elsewhere?” You anxiously ask as they lean on you slightly while you hold their arm, walking to the pews.

“I am alright.” They nod. “My head was hit. I may have a bruise or two, nothing that will not be fine by tomorrow.”

“If you are sure. There is no need to suffer with pain if we can help.” You smile.

Professor Byleth heads back to the bridge leaving the Cathedral, refusing your offer to accompany them. You remain, offering further prayers for Byleth’s health and healing for Dimitri.

You return to the infirmary, your home away from home. Manuela is no longer here, she sided with the Empire. Being thrust into the position of one of the main healers, you remain out of battle, dealing with the injured soldiers. Before the war you worked your shifts in the infirmary, Manuela handled the serious cases.

When the war started, everyone fled the monastery. You packed more books on healing and treatments than you did clothes. Seteth encouraged you to lead the healers for the Knights of Seiros. Every place you travel, you consult with other healers in the area, trying to increase your knowledge as well as theirs. You hope you are adequately filling the shoes he sets forth.

At the infirmary desk you pull out the file for Byleth and make a note regarding todays treatment. When the Knights of Seiros returned to the monastery, you were happy to find many of the medical notes still here. Thieves must not have a use for them. All potions, salves, bandages, and lotions were gone. You have been working with several other clerics building up your inventory.

A sudden knocking brings your attention to the door of the infirmary.

“Greetings. I see you have no patients today, I hope everything is well.“ Seteth bows.

You look up at the handsome man in the doorway. “Good afternoon, Seteth. Byleth was injured by Dimitri earlier. If you see them, make certain they are not hiding any injuries I was unable to find.”

Seteth nods, “I understand your concerns. There are many that take care and have themselves treated properly. Then there are others, I understand your concerns.” He smiles, “Flayn said you were fishing earlier.”

“Yes. I am not a hunter, however I do want to do my part to keep the food stores filled. An army marches on its stomach.” You answer as you file papers in the cabinet.

“Flayn advises you are considerably successful at fishing. Perhaps I can join you and observe your techniques.” Seteth smiles, it makes him even more handsome.

“I am no master fisherman. Flayn simply is not patient, she can’t hold still.” You laugh. “I have seen you fishing with Alois. You would be more successful if he was not there, he is rather boisterous.”

“True. I suppose I like to fish because it is relaxing. These are stressful times. I do hope you are taking care of yourself too.” Seteth answers, a bit of authority creeping back into his voice.

“Noted, sir.” You nod, then begin to unpack dressings and filling the cabinets.

“I am asking you to take care of yourself as a friend. We have worked together for these many years. I’ve seen you exhaust yourself taking care of the knights.”

“War is not conducive to sleep. I will sleep when the war is over.” You chuckle. “Besides, when I finally do leave to find rest, I notice there is still candlelight coming through the windows of your office. Perhaps you should lead by example, my friend.”

“Touche!” He chortles. “I will put in further effort.” Seteth nods, returning to his office.

You treat minor cuts and bruises the remainder of the afternoon. Flayn stops by and asks you to join her for dinner. After all, you were the one that provided the ingredients for this evening’s meal. You promise to meet her after restocking the supplies.

In the dining hall you take your bowl of fish soup and look for Flayn. She is sitting next to her brother and waving for you to join them. You take a seat opposite them. She is easily excited.

“I am so happy that you are able to join us.” Flayn smiles.

“It is important to keep your body healthy and nourished.” You nod and smile softly at Seteth. You are happy to see him in the dining hall. He has had too many meals in his office, overworking himself.

“Yes. An army runs on its stomach, and it is important for everyone to eat properly, especially those that support the army.” Seteth tells Flayn, encouraging her to eat.

“Does that mean I can have seconds, brother?” She asks, sucking in her cheeks a bit to appear more undernourished.

“Only after everyone else has had a portion.” He waves his spoon around the room at the other diners.

Flayn pouts.

Observing her sad face, you have an idea. “If you would like, we can fish tomorrow early in the morning and hopefully catch more for a fine fish dinner.” You pat her hand that is resting on the table.

Flayn’s face now wears a huge smile. “Really? I am excited! You can teach me more fishing techniques. Oh brother! Maybe you can join us?” Both of you look at him, a hopeful smile on your faces.

Seteth’s brow furrows. “I will have to check my schedule. I will see if I can make the time.”

The next morning you get up at dawn to head to the woods, digging up earthworms and grubs for bait. The ground is still moist from the rains and the worms are close to the surface. You have plenty for everyone, including Byleth, who you share bait with frequently. They buy bait from the merchants when they are out, and every coin is needed for the war.

The day is slightly windy, causing the water to dance on the pond. The sunlight sparkles on the surface as the sun rises higher in the sky. Flayn joins you. Instructing her on proper baiting of the hook you remind her to sit as still as possible. You sit far enough apart to softly talk, yet not interfere with each other’s quest for fish.

Flayn has been listening attentively, her basket of fish is proof of her improvement. She brings a fish to you that has swallowed the hook and you show her how to use a tool you’ve made that will help loosen it. Instructing how to slide her hand down the fish so she will not be pricked by the fins, then use the tool to release the hook. Suddenly a shadow is blocking the sunlight over your shoulder.

“Good morning, brother. We are having a marvelous time fishing!” Flayne giggles.

“I can see that. You both have a surprisingly large catch. Perhaps there are many secrets you can pass along to us.” He smiles at you. That is a very handsome look on his face.

“I would be happy to help.” You smile as Flayn puts her fish in her basket and baits her hook for the next catch. “I have a nice collection of worms today, help yourself.” You point to the can.

“Hmm.” Seteth frowns. “Would you mind giving me pointers on how to set the bait? My wife usually baited the hooks. I can manage with some things, but worms are tricky.”

“I understand. My father would set my bait when I was little. I was afraid of the wiggly bugs and worms. Though he is gone, I will pass along his techniques. It is a good way of remembering him.” You take a worm and quietly show him how to set the worm on the hook, leaving the end close to the barb of the hook to wiggle.

“I always make sure the barb is just through the end there, touching it but not piercing your finger. There. You’re ready to go.” You smile as you let loose the hook and it dangles and spins in the air.

“Appreciated.” Seteth smiles. The relaxed look on his face is a sight to behold.

You cast your line into the water and wait. Flayn is to your right trying very hard to be still. Seteth is to your left, taking a seat on a crate after casting his line in the water. Flayn’s bobber starts to wiggle. You hear her stifle a noise, trying to remain quiet. Suddenly her bobber goes under, she pulls her pole back.

“I have one. Oh, it feels heavy!” Flayn excitedly giggles as she works to haul the fish to land.

You lean to the edge of the pond, grabbing the fish as soon as she has it out of the water. “That certainly is a large fish. I think that fills your basket this morning!” You laugh.

She puts her fish away and gives you a huge hug. “You have taught me so well. I’m going to take these to the kitchen right away. I feel like a successful fisherwoman!” she grins.

“You are an excellent student. What an amazing haul!” You laugh, watching her struggle with her heavy container of fish.

Seteth now gasps as he hooks a fish. You grab the fish by the side of the mouth when he gets it to shore.

“Oh my, it’s swallowed your hook. That’s the fourth time today. They must be really hungry to gobble them down so quickly.” You mutter, heading to your tackle box to grab your tool to remove the hook.

“You can retrieve the hook? I usually have to cut the line and tie on a new one.” Seteth is happily surprised.

You call him closer as you follow the line into the fish’s mouth. You hand him the tool and instruct him as he uses it to free the hook. He stands much closer to you than he normally does. He smells like myrrh, cinnamon, and ginger.

“That was certainly educational today.” Seteth smiles. “Thank you for your instruction.”

“Any time.” You smile softly. “The company was very enjoyable.”

A week later Seteth invites you for tea in his office. Checking the calendar, you note that next week everyone will leave for battle, so he must want to review final plans. You arrive at his door at the exact appointed time, holding several folders of paperwork that he may find useful to allay his concerns.

Seteth invites you inside and gestures to the table by the windows that is set for tea.

His desk is piled high with folders, stacks of letters to be sealed, parchment and inkwells randomly scattered amongst his work. Mounds of opened letters fill the box on one corner of the desk while multiple completed replies occupy a box on the other side.

“Is that paperwork for me?” He appears to be surprised at the bundle in your hands.

“I thought you may want to discuss the inventories and preparations being made for our upcoming march.” You respond shyly. The last thing you want to do is provide more work for him.

Seteth takes the folders from you and places them on a nearby table. “Actually, I have the greatest trust in you and would only speak to you about it if you need my guidance. Please, take a seat and join me for tea.” He gestures to the table and chairs by the window.

Taking your seat, you pull the cloth napkin to your lap. You feel a bit nervous. He has only asked you to his office to discuss matters of the church or war. This is your first purely social visit.

Seteth pours the tea, handing you tongs to take a sweet treat from the basket.

“Apologies, I do not know your favorite tea. I hope you do not mind Four Spice Blend.” He smiles softly as he takes his seat, making certain his chair is at a proper gentlemanly distance from you.

“I drink Four Spice in the cooler weather, the flavor seems to warm me from within.” You return the smile. This must be the excitement the students feel when Professor Byleth invites them to tea.

“I am glad you enjoy it.” Seteth hums. “I have been having conversations with Felix lately about the importance of friends in our lives. I then realized that I have been negligent myself in not taking time to visit with my friends.”

“I am delighted to call you my friend, of course. We have worked together for these many years, but we have not made proper time to simply chat.”

“I am making an effort to correct that mistake, starting today.” Seteth nods and takes a sip of tea. “Do tell me about yourself, what books you like to read, what are your hobbies?”

You chat back and forth until the tea has grown exceedingly cold, exchanging tidbits of knowledge into who each of you are as a person. You speak of the books you’ve read recently and share impressions you have on your allies.

“This has been simply fascinating. A fantastic break from work. I feel very refreshed,” Seteth smiles. “I have learned quite a bit about you and your many talents.”

“I feel the same! I have learned so much about you as well. Thank you for inviting me to a very lovely tea.” You stand and reach for your paperwork.

“Perhaps we can make it a weekly occurrence, to make certain we have the time to check on each other,” He offers.

“Fantastic. I would enjoy it immensely.” You are beaming with happiness as you head out the door. Your heart skips a beat as you head down the hallway. You don’t mind that there are a few patients impatiently waiting inside the infirmary.

It is a few weeks before you can have another quiet tea together. Travel and battle do not allow for much time to socialize. Your hands are full setting up the infirmary tents, organizing the clerics, making certain the army has well stocked bandages and potions for the fighters.

Flayn is going to be on the field for the battle and you worry over her as she finishes attaching the last pieces of her armor. She comes to speak with you frequently, discussing a few adult matters that she is not confident with confiding in her brother.

“Watch out for arrows, if you are hurt, fly straight to the infirmary. Your brother would never forgive me if I cannot get you back into perfect health as soon as possible.” You kiss her on the forehead and send her off to her wyvern. You have become quite close friends and say a silent prayer for her safety. She reminds you of your younger siblings that you raised when your mother passed away.

Now you are standing at the edge of camp, watching what little you can see of the battle. Seteth and Flayn are flying close together on their wyverns, protecting each other. You send a quick prayer for their safety as you head back into the infirmary tent, injured fighters are already arriving.

Wrapping a bandage to a soldiers arm you’ve completed stitching and healing, you hear a wyvern’s roar outside the tent. Running to the front of the tent, Flayn is guiding her brother’s wyvern to the ground next to hers. Seteth is nearly unconscious as you hurry to lift him from the saddle. You have no idea where your strength comes from as you carry him into the infirmary and place him on an examination table. You’ve carried unconscious soldiers before, but Seteth is very solidly built.

Flayn dashes in behind you, filling you in on what happened. “He was hit by a lightning bolt. His wyvern was hit as well, but it dealt with the hit better than he did. I think it was because of the arrows he had taken prior that had weakened him.”

“Help me get his robes off.” You quickly instruct her.

She helps remove his robes and armor as you strip him to his undershirt and trousers. His pants are ruined by two arrows, you cut them off just above the arrow in his thigh and around the other in his calf. Neither of the projectiles are close to arteries, however the one in his thigh is very deep into the muscle. It seems to take forever to remove the arrowhead from leg. You had to cut tissue and pull his flesh out of the way. Finally, you work faith magic deep into the torn tissues, encouraging the flesh to bind back together.

Flayn works on his shoulder where the burns from the lightning strike entered his body. Luckily it traveled down his arm and exited close to his hand. You heal what you can of the burns for now, they will need further attention later.

Two strong soldiers help lift Seteth onto a stretcher, moving him to his tent. Gently you guide him on to his bed with Flayn’s assistance and she stays to watch over him. Before you leave, you examine her for any injuries, healing even the smaller cuts, knowing her brother would not be pleased to waken and see she was not treated.

Returning to the infirmary you triage the incoming soldiers. The new casualties begin to dwindle and those that are well enough leave for dinner. You make certain those that can eat do so. You then proceed to check on Seteth.

Standing at the entrance on the tent you announce yourself. Flayn beckons you to come in. Flayn is sitting in a chair, knitting a sock as she quietly sits by his side.

“I am so happy that you taught me how to knit. It is keeping my hands and mind busy so I do not hover over him so much. He has been sleeping peacefully since he was brought here.” Flayn updates you.

Leaning over the cot that Seteth is silently sleeping on, you check his vitals then his wounds to make certain he has not bled through the bandages. You’ve noticed his and Flayn’s heartrate are not the same as others. There are a few things you have seen over the years that sets them apart from the others. You keep these things to yourself, honoring their privacy.

Looking over at Flayn you smile reassuringly. “Would you like to go visit with your friends a bit? Promise me you will stay right in the middle of camp. No going off anywhere or your brother will have my head. I’m sure you want to check on them as well. When the sound the night bell, be back here very quickly. “

She gasps with excitement, “Yes! Thank you so much.” She hurriedly packs away her knitting and runs from the tent.

Remaining by Seteth’s side, you heal the electrical burns to his shoulder and hand. Exhausted, you doze lightly in the chair with a blanket over your legs and your hand resting on his chest. If he makes the slightest movement your eyes are wide open and you observe him for any discomfort.

Flayn returns a few hours later, tired and happy that she could visit with everyone. She kisses Seteth on the head and tells you good night just as he wakens.

Opening his eyes, his first sight is her. “Flayn!” He gasps. “You are alright.” His eyes close and he visibly relaxes for a moment.

“She is fine. A few minor scratches. Absolutely nothing compared to your injuries.” You pat your hand on his chest.

Seteth moves, attempting to sit up. He shifts his legs then grimaces with pain. With you pushing him back into his cot, he finally settles back into a prone position.

“You were hit by two arrows and then lightning. How you managed to keep perched on your wyvern is a miracle. Flayn brought you back. The battle is long over, you need to rest.” You answer his questions before he can ask them.

“I am happy to see you are recovering. Good night, brother.” Flayn calls as she heads out into the night air to her tent.

“Please tell me if you have any pain. I will help you sit up to have something to drink after I heal you further. I can get you anything you need, food, water, just name it.”

“I feel extremely fatigued, like every muscle in my body has been worked to exhaustion,” he quietly answers. “I only felt pain when I tried to move my leg. You have done a wonderful job, thank you.”

“You are a good patient. Let me change the bandages on your leg and then sit you up to have a drink. You should sleep and let the healing take full hold.” Taking your basket of fresh bandages and healing salves you move to the other side of his cot and begin unwrapping his wounds. Cleansing and applying further deep healing to his leg, you wrap it with fresh, clean dressings.

Taking a waterskin in hand, you help him sit up enough to drink nearly two cups of water. You take a handkerchief to dab his lips.

“There was a significant amount of blood loss. Drinking plenty of fluids will help you replenish them. I’ll make sure you eat a high amount of protein tomorrow for breakfast.”

“Thank you,” Seteth whispers as he lies back and closes his eyes. You pat his chest and he takes your hand in his. You are relieved that he is too tired to notice a slight blush on your cheeks.

Seteth awakens in the morning to the smell of bacon and eggs. You carefully help him to sit up.

“Flayn is in the infirmary tent, helping with those she can.” You begin. “They are tearing down camp and we will be headed back to the monastery soon. Do you need me to help you get a change of clothes? You will need new pants, I had to cut the others to get to your injuries. I can send someone to assist you if you prefer.”

“Let me see if I can stand, perhaps I can manage on my own.” Seteth slowly sits himself up and swings his legs off the cot. You reach outside the tent, then turn around and hand him a training lance.

“This should help you keep steady on your feet for now.“ You say while hovering over him as he takes a few cautious steps to the chair next to the table. Once he is seated you make certain he has fresh water to go with his food.

Back at the monastery you currently have four patients in the infirmary. Riding in the back of a wagon did not help their conditions much and it takes considerable time to heal and stabilize them until you feel that they are settled and without pain.

Flayn appears in front of your desk as you document the charts. “Are you finished with the patients?” She asks sweetly.

“For now. I will have someone monitoring them throughout the night and wake me if their conditions worsen.” You answer as you finish making an entry.

“Good!” Flayn takes you by the arm and pulls you down the hallway to Seteth’s office. Pulling you inside, you see the table set for three. The smell of the delicious dinner is heavenly, you’ve not eaten for many hours. Seteth is already seated at the table

“Please excuse me for not standing.” Seteth blushes slightly

You laugh. “I would be angry if you did. You’re keeping the leg propped up. Excellent.” You see that his color is good, he is healing well. You give a huge sigh of relief.

Flayn guides you to the seat next to him and she sits across from her brother. While the meal progresses, Flayn tells her point of view of the battle and how the Professor led them all to victory.

“This is quite a happy surprise. An excellent dinner and amazing company. I could not ask for more. Thank you both for having me.” You look greatly pleased.

“It is the least we could do to thank you for your excellent care,” Seteth assures. “You have been working nonstop since the battle. When you are finished, Flayn will escort you to your room and you will sleep. The healers here have been under your watchful eye and will take good care of the wounded. We need you to take time to care for yourself.”

“Yes. I will sleep and you should as well. I’m sending Flayn back to check on you. If she finds you working at the desk, I’ll run up here and bring a stick with me to chase you out.” You laugh.

Seteth chuckles. “I do not wish to incur your wrath. I promise to head straight for bed after dinner.”

“Should I change your bandages while I am here?” You ask.

“I did not invite you here to work. Flayn will aid me.” He nods to her.

Flayn suddenly interrupts. “I really should get the dishes back to the kitchens, you know how they can be. Perhaps it would be best that she escorts you to your room and check you this evening. This will probably take me a few trips.” Flayn says as she hurriedly stacks the plates, cups, and cutlery together and heads out the door.

“Do you have salves and bandages in your room? Should I pop by the infirmary for some?” You inquire.

“You had best get them. I know Flayn has some in her room, however I am not certain that I have any myself. I will meet you at the stairs, we can go up together.” He answers as he reaches for a cane to keep himself steady.

You observe Seteth as you follow him up the stairs, he is being especially careful and favoring his leg. He unlocks the door to his room on the third floor. You try not to let the curiosity get the best of you. Briefly glancing about, his quarters are pristine. Comfortable and heavy furniture come into view as he lights a candelabra.

“Would you prefer to change your bandages on the couch or your bed.” You ask.

“The bed I suppose,” he sighs as he leads you to his bedroom.

“Do you have a spare towel in the bathroom? I want to make certain nothing gets onto your bedclothes.”

“Of course, there is a basket by the door.” He gestures to the open door.

Retrieving a towel, you return to his side. Seteth is seated on his bed, his back propped by his pillows. His pants are removed from the wounded leg, the other covered by his blanket.

Raising his leg, you carefully place the towel underneath. You observe his grimace out of the corner of your eye.

“Which wound hurts more, the one in your calf or the one in your thigh?”

“The thigh. That one was quite deep,” Seteth answers, slightly gritting his teeth.

Unwrapping both injuries they appear to be healing well, the scarring is pink, not red at the edges, no signs of infection or bleeding. You slightly lift his lower leg, asking him to move his foot different directions. Turning your attention to the healing injury on his thigh you begin pouring faith magic into the muscles, knitting the torn tissue further together bit by bit. Massaging the muscles around the wound you flex his knee. The healing is progressing quite well.

Briefly you glance to his face, his eyes are closed, he appears relaxed. You are blushing again. His muscles are perfect, his thighs well-toned. Taking a deep breath, you pull your brain back into your professional mindset.

“Any other pain? Any lingering tingling from the lightning in your arm?” You softly ask. “You have walked on that leg too much today. Limping around on a cane will cause pain in your hand and arm as well as throwing off your gait and leading to lower back pain. I’ve done what I can today. I would like to treat your thigh injury one more time tomorrow.” You turn away to gather the soiled bandages and cool the steamy thoughts in your head.

“You are worrying too much. I will be fine.” Seteth answers. He sounds sleepy, which is relieving. You make certain he has a glass of water on his nightstand before you leave.

You make your way back downstairs. Flayn is taking the last of the dishes back to the kitchens. You wish her a good night and tell her to fetch you if you are needed. Once she is out of sight you head to the infirmary to check on the patients. The night cleric is relieved to see you, a soldier woke up and fell trying to get out of bed, undoing quite a bit of the work everyone had put into him. A few hours later you leave the heavily sedated patient, hoping they will retain the use of their arm.

The next day you find yourself being scolded by Flayn when she finds your bowl of oatmeal is still half full on your desk and it is already lunchtime. You are too busy working on the soldier’s reinjured shoulder to eat.

“Stop this at once!” Flayn stamps her foot for good measure. I am hereby relieving you of your duty and sentencing you to complete bedrest until tomorrow.

You turn around to argue with her, however two knights are gently taking you by the arms and leading you from the infirmary to your room. As you close your door behind you, you can hear Flayn giving them orders to stand guard and not let you leave until tomorrow morning.

Your head is pounding as you reach for a glass of water. Being told to take your own medicine is quite the bitter pill to swallow. It is reassuring that the soldier should be fine and rest is the best thing for you now.

The next day Flayn apologizes for her mutiny. Instead of being angry with her, you give her a huge hug and thank her for her bravery. You invite her to bake cookies together later, perhaps some ginger snaps, since her brother may like the flavor.

Meeting Flayn in the kitchens she confesses, “Everyone says I am a bad cook. Before the war I cooked a dish so bad only Dimitri and Raphael would eat it.” She pouts.

“It is not that you are bad at cooking. You simply do not understand the why and because of it all.” You explain as you gather and measure the ingredients for the cookies.

“Butter for example.” You begin, “We’re not using it in this recipe, but many times softened butter is an ingredient in cookies. You can’t use cold butter, it won’t mix well with the sugar. If you melt the butter, it will mix with the sugar, however the consistency will be wrong. If you melt the butter too long, it will brown the butter, giving it a completely different taste. Leaving the butter in a slightly warm place for about 30 minutes should soften the butter enough to mix with the sugar and make a fluffy creamy mixture, perfect for many baked goods.”

“So cooking requires the ingredients to be in the correct state as well as quantity.” Flayn nods in understanding.

“Exactly! And you cannot always substitute items in a recipe. If you want to use a plum instead of a peach, that will not cause problems. However, if you use baking soda instead of baking powder, that may make your cookies or cake refuse to rise.”

“But they both are for baking and making it rise.” Flayn frowns.

“Would you substitute mandrake root for arrow root in a potion?” You ask.

“Goodness no! One has healing properties, the other is a poison!” Flayn shudders.

“Both are roots, both are powdered and about the same color. Always use the correct ingredient.” You nod encouragingly. “It is like brewing potions. The right ingredients in the right quantity will make someone sleep peacefully. Too much and they will be in a coma.”

“I am beginning to understand your instruction. One cannot substitute ingredients willy-nilly. You must have knowledge as to how they work together to understand the effects of changing the composition of the baked item.” Flayn smiles widely.

“Once you get the basics, with experience you will be able to change things in the recipe. Let’s go by the recipe today and experiment another time. So did you measure one cup of sugar or one cup of salt here?” You place the bowl in front of her.

“Um. I am uncertain.” Flayn blushes.

“Taste it.” You push the bowl closer to her.

Flayn takes a pinch between her fingers and puts it on her tongue. “Ew! That would have been horrible!” she gasps as she heads to the larder to obtain a cup of sugar, abandoning the cup of salt on the counter.

Later in the afternoon you join Seteth in his office for Angelica tea. You surprise him with a box of the ginger cookies baked earlier.

“Ginger cookies! I have not had one in quite some time.” Seteth eagerly grasps a couple with the tongs, putting them on his plate.

“Flayn made them this morning.” You smile.

Seteth’s smile falls from his face as his eyebrows furrow slightly. He looks back to see that his door is indeed closed. “You do know what her cooking is like, don’t you?” He whispers.

You laugh. “Really Seteth, I was with her the entire time. We had a very productive cooking session. You may be surprised. Go on, take a bite.”

Seteth brings the cookie to his lips as if he has been requested to bite the head off a viper. He stares down at the cookie for a second and sniffs it. It does not smell as if it is burnt. It smells of ginger and sweetness, which is unusual for a cookie baked by Flayn.

Finally, he opens his mouth and takes a bite, silently praying that his teeth do not break off by doing this. Instead, his teeth sink into the slightly soft, slightly chewy, perfectly baked cookie. The ginger mixed with the molasses and other spices meld together in his mouth in the most delightful and rewarding flavors. His eyes open wide as his lips pull into the sweetest smile.

“You are absolutely certain that Flayn made these? They are delicious!” Seteth gasps.

You nod. You are so proud of her right now. You wish she could see the look on Seteth’s face right now. It’s precious.

“I must thank her later. You are a miracle worker.” He reaches forward and takes your hand in his.

Your face feels as if it is on fire as it heats up with a blush. Taking your teacup you try to hide behind it as you watch Seteth reach for another cookie.

The infirmary tent is outside of Fort Merceus. You can hear the battle raging on the fortress above the wall. You’ve just finished treating the wounds of an armored Knight, closing the lance wound to his shoulder. Suddenly things are quiet. You then hear a strange whistling noise followed by an explosion. Rocks rain down from the skies, causing the large tent to collapse around you. Pain overwhelms you as the world suddenly becomes dark.

You jolt into consciousness. Sitting upright you grab your head as it throbs fiercely between your hands. Your fingers feel wet, they are covered with blood.

“Brother! She is awake!” you hear Flayn’s voice next to you. Bleary eyed you look over to her, it is difficult to focus through the pain.

Seteth kneels at the side of the cot, wrapping his arms gently around you. “I thought that we might lose you.”

You manage to reach your right arm toward, your left arm refuses to cooperate. Taking a few deep breaths, you calm yourself. Your head pounds mercilessly.

“What happened?” Your voice trembling, remembering the last things you saw.

“The Fortress is gone. It is nothing but rubble. Pillars of light came from the skies and caused explosions everywhere. An entire wall crumbled and crushed part of the infirmary. The battle is over, for now.” Seteth’s voice exudes sadness.

You sob uncontrollably into his shoulder. The loss of life must have been great. Slowly the flow of tears subsides.

“Here, you must drink something.” Seteth offers a waterskin.

You drink your fill. Your eyes are more focused now and you notice you are in Seteth’s tent. You open your mouth to speak, his finger covers your lips.

“You need to rest.” Seteth softly says as he holds a potion bottle for you to drink. You smell the bitterness of the sedative. Nodding your head, you drink the contents. He then lays you back on his cot.

You awaken to the sounds of birds chirping and soldiers walking through the camp. This time you are not nearly in as much pain as you were previously. Sitting up, you assess your injuries. Based on the wrappings and pain your left shoulder has been broken. You have multiple contusions on your arms and legs. Feeling your head, your hair has been washed and there are a few spots where cuts are healed.

You watch the tent flap open and Flayn brings two plates of breakfast to set on the table.

“I am glad you are awake. My brother is in the war council meeting. Let me help you walk over here and get something to eat.” Flayn’s smile is soft and encouraging.

As you both eat, she updates you on the status of the camp. The battle was won, then the Fort was attacked. They did lose two clerics and several soldiers when the tent was hit by debris. They repaired the infirmary tent and treatment of the wounded is ongoing. The soldiers are reorganizing, preparing for the march to Enbarr.

“I feel bad for stealing your brother’s bed.” You frown. You are unaccustomed to inconveniencing others, especially your wonderful friends.

“He slept on the floor next to you to make certain you did not wake up and head back to the infirmary.” Flayn giggles.

“He knows me well.” You nod.

“He hovered over you like a mother hen. He was very worried.” Flayn looks at you, her eyes seem to bore into you. “Do you like him?”

“Well, yes, I do. We have been friends for many years.” You answer, deciding that the eggs on your plate are very interesting so you stare at them. They stare back.

“You would make a great couple.” She giggles.

You almost choke on the food you are chewing. Grabbing a drink of water, you take a few gasps of air. “What makes you think that?” Your face is bright red, you can’t look her in the eye.

“I am getting pretty good at noticing these things. When things are difficult, you tend to find someone that you can lean on and support you. Dimitri and Marianne, Felix and Sylvain, Mercedes and Dedue. It is only natural. You and my brother watch out for each other, keep the other from overworking, make sure they eat properly. I think it is inevitable.” She grins and looks quite satisfied with herself.

Your brain goes into overdrive. “I spend a lot of time with you as well. Knitting, cooking, fishing.”

“Yes. However, you do not act romantically toward me, your attitude is more…hmmm,” Flayn puts a finger to her chin. “Motherly.”

“It is true that I am that way toward you. My mother passed not long after giving birth to my youngest brother. Father relied on me to help raise my siblings as I was the oldest. I see so much of my siblings in you. Your naivety, looking at the world through innocent eyes. I feel very protective of you and understand your brother’s concern. I also recognize his attitude of overprotectiveness. You are all he has left.” You pat her hand.

“True. I thank you for your support. He needs to learn and understand that I am no longer a little girl.” Flayn pouts, slightly ruining her ‘I am an adult’ speech.

“Perhaps you should speak with him. Have a heart to heart conversation.” You feel relieved the conversation has shifted to her feelings about her restrictive sibling.

The remainder of your breakfast is quiet. Flayn returns the dishes to the cooks as you slowly make your way to the infirmary tent. Late in the evening you are lying and resting in an empty cot when you hear Seteth’s voice. You sit up as he approaches.

“There is no need to get up.” He apologizes. “I was simply checking on your wellbeing.”

Feeling brave, you reach up to take his hand. “Thank you for helping me. I have been pacing myself and taking frequent breaks. I am very grateful for everything you have done. I am sure you would like to enjoy your privacy and sleep more comfortably.”

Seteth squeezes your hand. “You are not a burden. My door is always open for you. Sleep well.” He smiles as he leaves.

You lie there, overthinking the short exchange. Are you special or simply a good friend? You want to curse Flayn for lighting aflame these thoughts in your head. You eventually drift off to sleep.

Several weeks later you march with the troops back to Garreg Mach. The war is over. Enbarr and the Emperor are defeated. Rhea is rescued and officially appoints Byleth as the new Archbishop. The Knights are busy taking out rogue bands of Imperial troops and bandits, returning to the monastery to be healed and rest up for the next battle.

Seteth is constantly overworking himself along with Byleth as they create the new doctrine for the church. They also communicate with Dimitri by letter, regarding plans for the continent. You find yourself constantly interrupting their meetings, forcing them to break for food or to take a walk to get fresh air.

“I thought we had just stopped for lunch. Is it time for dinner already?” Seteth looks up from the table filled with scattered parchment and books. Byleth doesn’t look up from his writing.

“Yes. Flayn and I have caught some fish and we are having it for dinner. No excuses.” You glare at them sternly. “Join us in the dining hall.” You do not say now, however it is implied and they stop their work quickly.

While eating, Seteth and Byleth attempt to continue their conversation regarding a particular section of doctrine.

“I order both of you to rest. Talk of something not business,” You plead. “I have heard that Dimitri will only work six days a week, taking one day for his mental wellbeing and health. I completely stand behind that mindset. True, there are always some issues that have to be dealt with, however the focus of the day off is to give yourself a break.”

Byleth looks at you as if you have two heads.

“Vessel of the goddess, yeah, yeah.” You frown at them. “You still need to eat, to sleep, and to rest. Keep this up and you’re headed straight for another five year nap. How much work are you going to finish then?” You cross your arms in front of your chest, looking at them smugly.

“She seems quite serious and peremptory. I don’t think we have much of a choice in this.” Seteth acquiesces. “Saucy little woman.” He whispers to his soup.

“What was that?” You snip.

“I said you make a fine spokeswoman.” He quickly shovels more fish into his mouth.

A week later they announce that Sunday shall be a day of rest except for what must absolutely be accomplished. The first week goes quite well. Byleth and Seteth spend much of the day resting in the afternoon sun as they fish in the pond.

They even admit to a renewed spirit as they return to their work the next day, having clearer minds and feeling rested. Things go well until the fourth week.

You are in the infirmary long enough to heal and bandage a burn on Annette’s arm when you cannot help but hear Seteth and Flayn’s very loud and angry voices emitting from his office. Quickly you dismiss Annette, telling her not to utter a single word.

As you approach Seteth’s door, Flayn runs out crying and fleeing to her room upstairs.

Seteth is sitting at his desk, his head in his hands.

“I do not know what has gotten into that child. She simply does not understand that I am trying to protect her.” He groans.

You knock on the door frame. Seteth waves you in and you close the door behind you.

“Apologies. I am sorry you were a witness to our outburst.” He sounds exasperated.

“She has grown to become quite the independent woman.” You disclose. “She has emotionally developed from a child into an adult since I met her all those years ago.”

Seteth groans. “The world is a dangerous place. I only want to keep her safe. Just a few years ago she was kidnapped right under my nose. I cannot let any harm befall her.”

“It hurts. It hurts to let them go. Watching them flee the safe and warm nest you have prepared.” You begin. “Your relationship is like a hand full of sand. Held loosely, with an open hand, the sand remains where it is. The minute you close your hand and squeeze it tightly to hold on, the sand trickles through your fingers. You can hold on to some of it, but most of it spills. A relationship should be like sand held loosely, with respect and freedom for the other person, it will remain intact. But hold too tightly, too possessively and the relationship slips away and is gone forever.”

“I cannot lose her.” The tears flow from his eyes.

You come around to his side of the desk and hold him to your chest. “There are two times when parenting is most difficult. When the baby first arrives and when the adult first leaves home.”

“You are not fully aware…” He chokes on his words.

“That you are her father? She has slipped too many times in her speech. I know you love her more than anything. You have raised her as your child, regardless. The thought of her leaving breaks your heart. I know.” You assure him. You had felt like you died a little every time one of your brothers and sisters left the nest.

“I want to take her and flee. Hide deep in the mountains where I can protect her.” He gasps through his tears.

“Have you asked her if that is what she wants? If you take her and run, she may escape, putting herself out alone in the wild and into even greater danger. If you let her remain, surround herself with friends who love and protect her, just as you have, could she be safe? If you part from her angry, will she ever come back? These are things you need to ask yourself.”

“If I did that, I would truly lose her.” He looks at you knowingly.

You nod and hold him as he shudders, his sobs filling the room. You pat his back and shoulders reassuringly. After a few minutes he takes a few cleansing breaths.

“My deepest apologies, I did not mean to bring you in to this.” Seteth obtains a handkerchief from his pocket, wiping his tears.

“I am here to help you. To help Flayn too. Both of you can be quite stubborn when you want to be.” You rub circles on his back, continuing to bolster him.

“What should I do now. Where do we go from here?” Seteth looks completely overwhelmed.

“Start with a nice tea together, in a neutral territory. Perhaps on the star terrace? I will check with Byleth and see if that is acceptable. Let her know this is the first of several conversations you will have. It is like any negotiation, discuss the good and the bad. Let her know more details of what you are worrying about. If either of you begin to get upset, step away from the table and calm your mind.”

You pause to let him think for a moment. “Remind her that no matter what, you love her, wanting only the best for her. You want her to understand your concerns. You need to understand her concerns, her dreams, her priorities. Keep communicating. Talk and talk some more.” You hug him tightly then head for the door.

“I cannot thank you enough.” Seteth nods as you smile at him before leaving.

Standing guard at the foot of the stairs to the third floor you sip your tea for a bit then return to knitting. They have been up there talking over tea for over two hours. No doors slamming. No yelling. This is a good sign.

Seteth calls from the top of the stairs, asking you to join them.

Flayn is carrying the tea set into Rhea’s former bedroom. She places it on and end table, then rushes over to give you a hug.

“Thank you.” She quickly whispers before heading down the hall to her chambers.

You walk outside to stand next to Seteth at the balcony. The stars twinkle brightly in the cloudless sky. You look up to him as he stares into the heavens. The air is still and cool now that night has fallen. Patiently you wait for him to gather his thoughts.

“We had a productive conversation.” Seteth begins softly.

You hum in agreement, not wanting to interrupt.

“We spoke of many things. Some good, some bad. All of it necessary. You are correct, she has grown up before my eyes and I could not see it. She is a beautiful young woman.” He speaks slowly, each word tearing apart his heart.

You want to take him in your arms and reassure him, you can see the sadness in his eyes. His precious Flayn must be allowed to be free, and he feels like it is killing him. You settle with leaning against his shoulder with yours.

“She said she worries for me just as much as I for her. She fears that when she leaves, I will shut myself off from the world. I have told her many times that she is my world, that all I do, I do for her. She knows the sacrifices I have made for her sake. She is grateful. But she wants to do things on her own. How to fend for herself. I just—” his voice falters.

Seteth hangs his head low, gripping the balustrade tightly for support. “I am terrified.”

“Let her know you will always be there for her. That you are a place of safety for her, a refuge.” You rub his shoulder as you remain looking skyward.

“Of course, I will take her back, in a heartbeat. There is no doubt. I would bring her where I am without question.” He says with conviction. “The hardest part is to let her go in the first place.”

“She is still here, you have time to mend your hearts. You will always worry for her, she knows this. You have earned that right.” You softly pat his opposite shoulder your arm around his back..

“Thank you for being here.” Seteth turns and hugs you to his chest. You hug him back and stand with him in the cool air, sharing warmth with each other.

Flayn and Seteth have several teatime conversations, adult to adult. One day they decided to take a short holiday together, packing belongings on their wyverns and return several days later.

Seteth works twice as hard to make up for the lost time in his office. You spend time with Flayn as she tells you of her plans. Ignatz and Raphael are going to work as knights for Lorenz who has taken over Gloucester lands from his father. Lorenz is fully employing Ignatz to be ‘a knight that paints’. She will join them in a month’s time. She is in love with Ignatz, however does not want to jump into things too quickly. With her other friends there, she will see how the budding romance goes.

You giggle along with her about her exciting plans, what she wants to do for herself and things she will see. She is quite excited about visiting Derdriu. She’s always loved the ocean and the other coast is just north of the territory.

“What will you be doing now that things are settling down? Do you want to travel or start something new?” Flayn looks at you curiously.

“I’m still recovering from going through the war. I’ve always enjoyed working here. Because Byleth is staying here, friends will come to visit frequently. I am not much of a wanderer, so traveling is out. I don’t want to go north, the snow we have here is plenty.” You think for a moment. “Teaching sounds interesting if they decide to reopen the academy or a regular school. I would like to research some additional healing spells. There are many things to do. Deciding is the hard part.”

“You should think about finding someone special to settle down with.” Flayn smirks.

You nearly spit tea all over yourself. “I..um.” You cough into your napkin and gather your wits. “Unlike some people I know, I do not rush into things.”

“I have watched you pine over him for years.” She laughs.

Looking away from her you wiggle nervously in your chair. “I have no idea what you’re alluding to.”

“You both are so hopeless.” Flayn huffs.

A few days later, Flayn leaves a box outside your door labeled ‘Educational Materials’. You take them in your room then head to the infirmary for work. She has left a box there labeled ‘Medical Supplies’. You open the box and restock the shelves with the gauze and bandages. At the end of the day you return to your room deciding to open the box she has left for you. It is filled with romance novels. How strange. Educational? You think as you open one of the books to peruse through.

Flayn has finished packing her belongings. She distributed a few things around the monastery, leaving enough of her belongings in her room so that she will not have to pack anything when she comes to visit Seteth. The wagon from Gloucester territory has arrived and she watches them load her belongings onto the back. Flayn stands outside the carriage saying her goodbyes.

“Byleth, thank you for accepting me in your class. It began my journey to the independence that I celebrate today.” She gives him a hug and kiss on the cheek.

“I must thank you for everything you have done for me. You have taught me how to cook, amazing fishing techniques and patience. Thank you for everything.” She takes your hands in hers as she gazes your face with a sincere smile. She kisses you on both cheeks, like the adult women of the court say goodbye.

Flayn jumps up and gives Seteth a tight hug. She buries her face in his chest so she cannot see his face.

“I will miss you most of all, brother. I promise to write. I will be safe, you’ll see.” She pauses so that he can kiss her on the forehead, then she turns and quickly enters into the carriage before anyone can see a tear fall from her eyes. The carriage pulls away and she waves out the window with her hand.

Byleth stares as the carriage leaves. “Do you think she will cry?”

“She is bawling her eyes out right now.” You manage to chuckle, trying to hold back your own tears. A sniffle still escapes.

Seteth has moved inside the building, most likely to hide his own tears. You stand next to Byleth, not sure what to do with yourself. Byleth eventually looks over to you.

“I’ll go to the wyvern rookery to make sure he doesn’t try to follow her. You should go talk to him.” Byleth announces as they head out.

Heading up the stairs to the second floor of the faculty building, the trip seems much longer than usual. You have no idea what to say to him. You pause outside his door, praying the goddess gives you the proper words.

“Seteth. May I come in?” Announcing your presence as you knock.

“This is not a good time for conversation.” He answers, not opening the door.

“We don’t have to speak.” You answer. “Please?”

The silence from the other side of the door is deafening. You wait, not moving.

“Enter.”

You enter, seeing him seated at his desk, looking toward the wall. You silently close the door. Approaching Seteth like you would a terrified animal, extending your hand toward him slowly and gently, you touch his shoulder.

He hangs his head and weeps into his chest. You place your head on his shoulder and arms around his back, letting him mourn his loss. His muscles are all tight as he pulls into himself, his body shakes with emotion.

When he has run out of tears, he pulls himself from your embrace. He tries to hide his face, swollen from crying. You reach for a pitcher and pour water onto a cloth, chill it with magic and place it on his forehead and eyes. You tilt his head back to rest it on the back of his chair. Moving behind him you massage his temples and apply healing magic to relieve the headache from crying.

He looks as if he is resting, or at least trying to relax after having tensed his entire body for so long.

“I am always here for you.” You say softly before leaving his office.

You arrange for dinner to be brought to his door. Disappointment crosses your face when you see the food is untouched hours later.

The next morning your rise early to fish, but the fish have no interest. You glance at the windows of Seteth’s office and there is no light. Heading to the infirmary you walk past it and stand outside of his office door. You knock, there is no answer. You attempt to open the door, it is locked.

While treating a cut on a soldier’s arm, Byleth enters the infirmary.

“Have you seen Seteth? He is late for our meeting this morning.” Byleth says, looking concerned.

“No. Perhaps you should check on him?” You offer. “I believe he skipped dinner last night and the cooks said he was not there for breakfast. He did not touch his food at dinner last night as well.”

Byleth frowns and heads for Seteth’s office door. You hear his knocking from inside the infirmary. Soon the hallway is quiet. A few minutes later you hear the tapping of Byleth’s boots walking down the hallway and going up to the third floor.

Putting away the bandages and salves, you jump when Byleth bursts into the infirmary.

“Come quick!” He orders.

Dashing up the stairs you head to Seteth’s room. Byleth is with him in the bedroom, having placed Seteth on his bed. He had found him lying on the floor of the front room.

You quickly assess Seteth’s condition. He has exhausted himself. His eyes are dark and sunken, black lines hang below his eyes. He has probably not been sleeping and certainly has not been eating. You knew he had not been sleeping well, he looked tired yesterday however, today is much worse.

“I can take over from here. Let the infirmary know I am indisposed for a day or so.” You announce as Byleth helps you pull a comfy chair from the parlor next to the bed. You also set a pitcher and two glasses on the nightstand.

“I’ll send dinner up.” Byleth says as he leaves the room.

You check Seteth frequently. He is sleeping soundly. You eat, leaving the dishes outside. He still has not moved. Grabbing a throw blanket, you curl up in the chair, settling in for the night. You leave your hand on top of his, you need to wake if he stirs.

The moonlight shining through the windows gives a bluish glow to the room, the sun has not yet risen, however it will in an hour or so. Seteth begins to stir. He yawns and instinctively reaches to cover his mouth. Just as he moves, you bolt upright in the chair and look at him. He notices you there, bolting upright as he realizes you are in his room.

“What are you doing here.” Seteth huffs.

“I am watching over my patient. Apparently, someone cannot be trusted to take care of themselves properly.” You fold your arms on your chest and give him a glare that could frighten a demonic beast.

Seteth attempts to hide his shame behind his hand, using it to cover his face. “My deepest apologies. My mind has not been in a good place. I have been overwhelmed with grief since before Flayn had even left. I know she is alive and well, but that does not lessen my concern for her.”

“I should write to her and tell her exactly what you have done to yourself as soon as she left.” You scold. “She put me in charge of you, no matter how many times I assured her that you are a grown man and capable of taking care of yourself. I have misjudged you. I am certain she will not be pleased to know she was right.”

You get up and hand him a glass of water. He takes a few sips, placing it on the nightstand. You hand it back to him again pointing to the center of the glass. He drinks half of the contents and looks at you. You nod and he puts the glass down. A few moments pass as you stare at each other.

“Are you hungry? I can run to get you something. Do you have any pain?” Your face softens.

“I will be fine. I think I will lie here and rest for a little while longer.” Seteth takes your hand in his. “You should get some rest as well. You don’t need to stay here and watch an old man sleep.”

“Apparently, I do.” You softly laugh, squeezing his hand and moving over to sit on the bed next to him. “You do not look like an old man. Sometimes you act like one, however when I saw you fighting during the war you were on the front lines along with those young men and you were running circles around them. I’ve seen you wield your lance, you are a force to be reckoned with.” You smile warmly at him.

“Oh? So you have been watching me?” He raises his eyebrows a bit.

“Yes. Watching you fight and fly on your wyvern is breathtaking.” You pause, “You are breathtaking.”

“I…I don’t know what to say. Thank you?” Seteth blushes.

Giving him a smile, you whisper, “We have much to discuss. But right now, we are both exhausted. Scoot over, I am not sleeping in that chair one more minute.”

“That is not proper. We shou-“ he gasps.

You lay next to him. “Shhh. Scoot. We are consenting adults who need sleep. I am fully clothed. You are under the covers, I am over them. No different than last night, except I will be comfortable and won’t wake with a pain in my neck.” You snuggle next to him, laying your head on his shoulder and arm across his waist. “Good night.”

Seteth lies there stiffly for a while. Then he heaves a sigh and lays his cheek on the top of your head, drifting off to slee

#fe3h #fire emblem three houses #fe16 #fe3h x reader #fire emblem #Seteth #Flayn #fe3h fanfic #feth #Seteth x reader

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mercy-burning · 4 years ago

Text

Second Nature

Part of Mercy’s 1k Celebration: A collection of Spencer Reid x Reader requests to celebrate 1,000 followers.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: Spencer and Reader share some realizations after one of them has been kidnapped. Category: FLUFF + ADDITIONAL SMUT ENDING (18+) Warnings: Language, brief mentions of kidnapping and injury, bruising, sex (penetrative sex, protected sex, dirty talk, lowkey hand kink—i’m not sorry) Word Count: 6.1k

Full Request: “...Congratulations on your 1k! I have request for your celebration, if possible. Spencer/Fem Reader. Post prison Spencer, instead of him being taken by the cult, the reader is, making hi realize that she’s Love of life and they get together. Smut,preferred, if possible. Thank you.” — @dreatine

NOTE: I had a little conversation with @ssa-m-187 about a post which discussed that trope where Person A caresses Person B’s cheek, and then Person A leans into their touch and holds their arm to keep them there for comfort.. I mentioned that I might add it into one of my requests, and this is where it ended up! 😂❤

I also decided to add an alternate/additional smut ending in case anyone wanted only the fluff. It will be clearly marked when the smut starts if you choose not to read it!

MASTERLIST | 1K MASTERLIST

***

Nothing bad ever happened to her. Spencer wished that was an exaggeration but it wasn't. In all the years he'd known Y/N, she was never kidnapped, no one she loved ever got kidnapped, and she never even got sick. Her moods were always visibly happy, no one had ever seen her with so much as a sprained ankle, and even bad hair days always seemed to escape her grasp.

So naturally, when she got taken by Ben's Believers, it came as no shock that Spencer was losing his mind.

Everyone kept telling him that they'd get her back, and that they all knew what to do, but it didn't stop the sinking feeling that weighed his heart down, far away from the surface where she was safe and waiting for him.

Guess it's safe to say, this whole situation stirred up some feelings he hadn't even known existed.

The first thing that came to his mind, aside from the initial shock of her being gone, was the first moment they met.

Y/N and Ashley Seaver had both been added to the team around the same time, and after losing Emily, the three of them had practically become inseparable. But that first meeting, the very second he laid eyes on her, it was something purely magical.

She was trying to open a jar of pickles in the break room, breathy and aggravated curses spilling from her mouth as if she were a sailor.

"Do you need any help?" Spencer asked, not intending to scare her.

But alas, she jumped, dropping the jar of pickles and causing it to shatter everywhere. "Shit!"

He offered to help clean it up, and she accepted, sighing about how everything she had was going to smell like pickles for at least a week. And once everything was picked up, she grabbed a pickle that had landed on the counter and took a bite, promptly saying, "Well, at least I got it open," with a mouth-full of pickle. "Thanks for scaring me, bud."

It was amusing to say the least.

And every time they'd gone out for food since then, Spencer made sure to order something with a pickle every time, just so he could offer it to her and hear her laugh about that day. Every time, she mirrored that moment, taking a bite and saying, "Thanks, bud."

Of course, back then he hadn't realized he did it because he liked her. He just thought it was nice to see her smile, to hear her laugh. That's what friends did, right? Made each other laugh?

That's what kept him going as they searched high and low for answers to get her back. Her laugh. It was there, replaying on a loop in his brain as if he could ever forget it.

And when he got her back, he vowed to make sure he made her laugh for the rest of time.

When they knew where to find Y/N, Spencer made it his mission to be the one who got her out of there. He wanted to be the one she saw when she was being rescued. He wanted to be the one who made sure she was finally safe again and out of harm's way.

And most importantly he wanted to tell her that he loved her. And he didn't want to spend another day without being next to her.

But first he had to get her out of there.

The second he saw her, it was like everything moved in slow motion. She was strapped to some type of mechanism that kept her hands at her sides and her head facing forward. And despite the fact that she'd never been held hostage, she looked very calm. She looked like exactly what the cult wanted her to be: a sacrifice.

It made Spencer's stomach churn. And it felt even worse when they moved in. Because everyone was getting down, and the cult leader jumped for Y/N, striking to kill.

The gunshot stunned him. He stopped in his tracks, hoping and praying that she wouldn't be hurt, and for one final time before he actually moved, he replayed her laugh in his mind. He briefly held on to the image of Y/N smiling at him without a care in the world before he inevitably saw her face to face for the first time in days, most likely without said smile.

But of course, the second it was safe and he ran to her side, she looked up at him and smiled anyway.

As Emily got the final restraints off of her, Spencer took a huge sigh of relief and welcomed Y/N into his embrace.

"Hey, bud," she breathed into his neck, letting him squeeze her tightly. He could practically feel her smile burning into his skin, tattooing itself there for all the world to see, and he squeezed her tighter, thinking of how he wouldn't have it any other way.

They clung to one another the whole plane ride home, curled up into each other and falling asleep after all the stress they'd been under. And it was no surprise to anyone that they even held hands while they did.

Y/N dreamt of him the entire time.

Specifically, she was remembering the day she almost quit. It would have surprised anyone to know she'd felt that way considering she never let her bad days show. But in those particular few months, she had really missed her family—and Ashley,—the cases were getting more and more stressful, and it all seemed to really take a toll on her emotionally.

But that one fateful day, she walked into the round table room, expecting to find no one since she always showed up early, and instead she found Spencer with a large wicker basket.

"What are you doing here so early?" Y/N asked, raising an eyebrow.

He smiled shyly. "Oh, um... I know your birthday was last week, and I feel bad I missed it since I was visiting my mom, so... I wanted to celebrate with you when we had a little bit of time."

He handed her the basket, and she marveled at all its contents, ranging from a few of her favorite books in different copies she hadn't owned, an array of her favorite candies, and most exciting, a jar of pickles.

"Oh, before you break the jar, I have something else for you," he said with a small laugh, pulling something out of his jacket pocket. "I've read that these are good for helping you open jars, and I even got myself one because we all know you're way stronger than me, so if you can't open a jar of pickles, I probably couldn't either..."

She would never know this, but in that moment he was kicking himself for being so awkward, even though the two of them had been friends for years. And he'd never know, but she hadn't even recognized it as awkward. She was incredibly thankful and endeared by his thinking of her, and it was the one thing that made her realize she could never quit her job.

She loved him too much too leave.

So she didn't. That morning she'd been planning on telling everyone her plans to find another job somewhere else, maybe closer to her family, and that night she walked out of the office feeling loved and thankful for her friends, and one friend in particular.

Currently, said friend was sitting quietly in the parking lot of her apartment while she dug up the courage to ask him inside for the night. Her plans consisted of sleeping in for as long as she needed thanks to a well-deserved few days off of work, and though Spencer would most likely return earlier, she desperately hoped she could convince him to stay.

It was quiet for a while and the lights in the car had long since turned off, leaving them in darkness as well as silence. Despite that fact, it wasn't eerie in the slightest... It was comfortable.

Even more so when Y/N reached over and grabbed his hand.

And then she spoke.

"Can... Can you stay? I'm fine, I promise, I just... I could really use some company, you know?"

"Of course," he answered almost too quickly. It made her laugh, and though it was small, he felt a weight lift off his chest at the sound.

The two of them walked up to her apartment in more of that comfortable, dark silence. The only light source to be found was within the dim lights of the hallway, though they'd made the walk so many times it was like second nature.

That familiarity followed them through her doorway, Y/N taking off her jacket and instinctively handing it over with her to-go bag, where Spencer's arms were already outstretched. He took them and removed his shoes, then transported their belongings to the chair in the corner of her living room, maybe five or six steps ahead from the entryway.

Y/N took a large breath and smiled as she flipped on the lights.

Spencer noticed, turning to her with a smile of his own. "Good to be home?"

"Mhm," she responded with a nod. "But you know what would make it even better?"

The knowing smile they shared brought warmth to her chest as he made his way to the kitchen, saying, "Peppermint hot chocolate, coming right up."

As her best friend made noise in the kitchen, Y/N padded over to her couch, flipping on the table lamp next to it and sitting down with an over-exaggerated humph. Her legs curled off to the side as she leaned against the armrest, taking a deep breath and breathing in the warm comfort of home, only amplified a little while later by the aroma of soft peppermint.

She could hear Spencer humming quietly to himself in the kitchen, the sound bringing a smile to her face. He always absentmindedly hummed her favorite song when he was making them food or something to drink, or even when they were just hanging out together in comfortable silence. She wondered often if he ever sang it to himself when he was alone.

And she was going to ask, but before she got the chance, he came up behind her with two mugs of hot chocolate. She took hers gladly with a smile that perfectly matched the warmth of the mug. And while she took the first sip as he walked around the couch and took his regular spot on the cushion next to hers, that warmth spread to her chest. She sunk into the couch as her eyes fluttered closed.

Beside her she could hear Spencer laugh. "That good, huh?"

"You're an expert hot chocolate maker, don't let anyone tell you any different."

Another laugh came from him, and the sound bought warmth to other places.

They sipped their hot chocolate together, once again basked in silence that was only disrupted by the distinct ticking of Y/N's cuckoo clock, a Christmas gift from Spencer one year after she'd mentioned how much she was oddly fascinated by them. It sat on the wall across from them, next to the TV and right above a DVD rack with her favorite movies. She stared at the clock fondly as she drank her way through the hot chocolate, and Spencer did the same.

Eventually they were out, and once their mugs were placed on either side table, they found themselves turning to each other with more of that second nature pulling them together like the moon pulling the ocean. Once their knees touched it was like the ocean dragged them under, only rather than suffocating, they found themselves breathing easier, like they were finally at peace.

The clock rung out, and only after it finished echoing did Spencer initiate conversation. He examined the bruise right under her eye, and once again the gravitational pull was too much, his hand reaching out to touch it with curiosity as well as concern. "Are you feeling alright? Do you need some ice or anything?" he asked softly.

Y/N felt her heart stutter at the featherlight touch of his fingertips, and despite herself, she blushed. "No, I'm okay. Better now that I'm home. With you."

His eyes flicked up to meet hers at her words, and the softness and genuine relief he found in them made him melt.

He moved to take his hand away, but Y/N reached up and gently grabbed his wrist, bringing it back to her face pacing his palm firmly against the whole surface of her cheek. He watched lovingly as she closed her eyes and leaned into his hand further, bringing her hand to wrap around his forearm and hold him there. And in that moment, he had to wonder if she could hear the loud, intense beating of his heart as it drowned out the clock's ticking.

"I... I was so scared," Y/N whispered, keeping her eyes closed. "I mean... In the back of my mind I knew you guys would come for me, but... That was... my first time ever being in a hostage situation by myself, let alone at all, and I..." She paused, stumbling on her words before exhaling a breathy laugh. "Those people were creepy."

Spencer laughed with her, his hand still resting on her face. When she finally did open her eyes again, she looked up at him through her eyelashes, and in that moment she looked so soft and vulnerable that he couldn't help but finally tell the truth.

In a whisper so soft she almost didn't hear it, he confessed, "I was so afraid that I lost you..."

"Yeah, but... You found me," she returned with a smile as she nuzzled into his hand further. "You always do."

Something in the way she said it made him bolder, and he realized then that that's what she always did.

She strengthened him, made him more bold and determined... And she gave him something to hold onto when he was lost. When things felt impossible, Y/N always said the one thing that put him back together and made him feel whole again, whether it was a few sentences, or in this case three little words: "You always do."

Completing him was her second nature, something he wasn't even sure she was aware of.

But now that he knew, he had to tell her.

"Y/n..." Spencer traced his thumb along the underside of her bottom lip, and he could have swore he felt her sigh out. He stayed paused, reveling in the way he seemed to have an effect on her, his thumb longing to slide further and trace her entire mouth.

Nevertheless, he continued. "You are... Everything to me. And I don't tell you very often how much your friendship means to me, but I... I can't keep going forward without you knowing just how much I care about you. Really, it..." He huffed a laugh, hoping he wasn't making an utter fool of himself and that she wouldn't push him away at this confession that was dying to escape. "It's embarrassing how much I love you."

He couldn't tell if it was exhaustion taking hold of him, or the relief he felt at finally getting that off his chest, but he held his breath as he studied her eyes, which were glassy like she was on the verge of tears. Her grip around his forearm tightened and she turned, kissing the inside of his palm and keeping her lips pressed there for what felt like forever, until he started to feel his skin go numb. Realistically he knew it was only a trick on the brain, how such a simple affectionate gesture like that had the most heart-swelling and mind-numbing effects on him because of how much he loved her.

But damn it, he didn't care.

She murmured his name into his palm, and her eyes flicked up to meet his again. That's when he noticed a tear fall from her eye and down her cheek, right into the side of his thumb.

Finally, she responded, "I love you, too, Spencer. I... I wasn't sure I'd ever be able to tell you, but... After what just happened, I don't know if I could ever spend another day without loving you."

His heart absolutely burst at the seams, warmer than before, and most certainly not from the hot chocolate. That warmth only spread, turning into a raging wildfire when she let go of his hand and moved forward, practically tackling him and wrapping her arms around his neck, hugging him and pressing her face to the crook of his neck. His arms wrapped around her back, hugging her close as she straddled him and continued to nuzzle into his skin, his presence...

They held each other like that for a good minute before Y/N finally gained the courage to pull back and look into his eyes. They were just as glassy as hers, just as filled with love and comfort and home as she could ever have dreamed. Her hands slid down to rest on his shoulders for a moment before one of them cradled his face.

And then she kissed him.

She knew he loved her, he told her as much, but in case this was already going too far, Y/N kept it light and hesitant, desperately hoping it wouldn't make things weird.

But of course, there was nothing to worry about. And Spencer showed her that as his lips pressed deeper into hers, his hands on her back pushing her closer to him and seeking as much contact as possible.

She brought both of her hands to gently run through his hair, and at the sigh he let out against her mouth, Y/N tugged harder, pulling herself up so she could get into a better, more comfortable position on his lap.

They shared peppermint hot chocolate kisses until the clock rung out again, both of them pulling away with a little surprise.

"Has it really been an hour since it last went off?" Y/N mused in a whisper, taking in the swollen state of Spencer's mouth. The sight sent a course of butterflies through her stomach.

"I guess it has... It's um... It's late, maybe we should get some sleep."

"Only if you come with me," Y/N offered, running her fingers through his hair once more.

Spencer nodded with a small smile, his thumb tracing the bottom of her chin. "Of course."

They pulled themselves off the couch and, hand-in-hand, navigated their way to her bedroom. And even though they'd never actually done it before, sleeping in her bedroom together, the whole journey was so familiar it was like they'd done it a million times over.

SMUT ENDING BELOW

Y/N didn't know what time it was, only that the sun was brightly peeking through her sheer curtains, basking her bedroom in a warm glow that made it almost impossible to be comfortable under the covers. When she moved to take them off of her, she felt a hand snake around her waist, pressing firmly against her lower stomach and holding her in place.

"Are you awake?" she asked aloud to the air, softly in case Spencer was, in fact, still asleep.

"Mhm," he mumbled behind her, his breath softly fanning out across her shoulder. "Have been for about an hour."

"You could have woke me up," she said, turning around to face him. His hand lifted and then settled on her shoulder when she was in position.

"You deserved the rest," is all he offered in explanation as his hand gently brushed the hair from her shoulder. It tickled as it fell behind her, dropping off her body and across the back of her neck. Spencer trailed his fingers lightly up her neck until they reached her ear, and then he trailed them back down and over the curve of her shoulder, and then down her arm. He continued this and smiled as he took notice of the goosebumps that formed all over her skin. The thin tank top she'd changed into before bed left most of her exposed, each little freckle and hair that adorned her skin on display in the warm sunlight.

Meanwhile she smiled, heat slowly rising to her cheeks as she recalled their kisses on the couch. Needless to say, her dreams that night were rather scandalous, something she wasn't unfamiliar with, though given these new circumstances she was more than a little hot right now.

Spencer noticed, his hand halting its movement on her skin and resting itself on her waist over the blanket. "You're thinking about it, too? Last night?"

Y/N looked him in the eye and swore she saw them dilate when she responded. "Yeah. Among other things..."

"What... kind of other things?"

She would have told him, but since it was obvious they were both feeling the heat she bit her lip instead, a teasing look in her eye. "You're a smart man. You tell me."

"What if I... show you instead?" he whispered, his voice broken and obviously a little shocked that this was finally going to happen.

"Take it away, Doc."

His first kiss was sweet, reminiscent of the first one they shared on the couch, and his second was a little deeper. Y/N gave her stamp of approval by sighing, bringing a hand up to play with his hair again, and it was the trigger that shot him forward, his lips working hers with more passionate, methodical precision. Meanwhile his hand dipped under the covers and pressed firmly at her back, slipping under her shirt and bringing her closer.

She wrapped her leg over his waist, pulling herself forward to get as much contact as she could while he swiped over her bottom lip with his tongue. The small whimper she let out at his kisses made his hips buck forward involuntarily, to which Y/N clenched her leg tighter around his waist and tugged a little harder at his hair.

He tipped them over then, rolling so that he was hovering over her while their kisses only grew needier. His hand slipped under her shirt, feeling the expanse of her stomach and her sides. The low hum that came from her throat at his touches drove him half wild, so he boldened them, slowly sliding up and up until he reached her bare breasts. Her legs came out immediately and hooked themselves around the back of his thighs as she whined at his touch.

With curious kneads of her chest and even more exploratory kisses that were reciprocated with an equal hunger and passion, it didn't take long for Spencer to feel his insides churn with a desire that could possibly never be satiated. Even if Y/N was the one who kept him whole, he also knew she would be the one to completely wreck him to pieces. He'd rarely ever felt this type of desire before, especially not towards someone who took up every crack and crevice of his mind at any given moment. And now that he had it, he never wanted to let it go. She was going to utterly ruin him, and he'd never been more welcoming to that type of damnation—the type that was also his salvation.

Because she was everything all at once, devastatingly beautiful in every imaginable way.

Her hands tugged at his tee shirt, punctuating her urgency with a needy little whine into his mouth. He pulled back then, tugging off his shirt at the expense of taking his hands away from her. But from his higher position now, he took her in in all her wild glory, lips swollen and a little red, hair splayed out across the pillows, and her breathing visibly heavy. Even with the bruise under her eyes, she was the most breathtaking person he'd ever seen. She marveled up at him, willing her gaze to trail down his chest and stomach, her bottom lip tucking itself gently between her teeth as she stared at where his sweatpants hung low on his hips.

Y/N reached out and grazed her middle finger across the waistband of his pants, gently feeling the fabric and his skin at the same time. He was still, continuing to watch her explore his body the way he'd done hers, always amazed at the curious look in her eye— the one that was now swimming in a pool of lust. Her hand trailed upwards, feeling the soft planes of his torso until she couldn't reach any higher.

"Having fun?" Spencer mused with a smile as she rested both her hands on either side of his waist.

She sat up then, pressing a kiss to his neck while her hands travelled south, under the waistband of his pants. He sucked in a breath as she palmed him through his underwear, gently nipping his shoulder before she answered. "Oh, I'm having so much fun."

He was going to say something, but words escaped him as she sat up on her knees and continued tracing the outline of his dick through his underwear. He was painfully hard in an instant, a fact at which Y/N gave a low, amused laugh. Once she found the underside of his tip, she gently rubbed it through the fabric with her thumb, and the broken whine that he let out delighted her in every way. Her tongue traced his collarbone and the contours of his shoulders and neck until she reached his jawline. She licked him there too, humming as her thumb worked faster at his dick.

"Mmm, I've wanted this for so long," she told him softly, bringing her lips up to his ear. "Do you know how many times I've thought about us? Dreamed about us?"

"Not as many as me, probably," he choked out with a small laugh, audibly trying to keep it together as his stomach burned with every languid stroke of her thumb over his most sensitive point.

Y/N returned his laugh and sensually kissed his jaw before saying, "I doubt that." Then she dragged her mouth up to his lips and brought her hand out of his pants so she could thread all her fingers through his hair. Though they were kneeling, he was still taller than her, so his hard erection pressed firmly against her stomach as he brought her closer, gripping her hips and melting into her.

When his right hand slipped into her sleep shorts, she whined out and pressed herself harder against him, reveling in the way the heat from his hand practically burned into her ass. He kneaded her there as well, groaning into her mouth when she tugged on his hair and turned her head to deepen their kiss.

It was obvious that she was trying to feel some type of friction— her knees were willing her to get up higher, to feel him hard against her, but alas she wasn't able to reach. She showed her frustration by whining into his mouth and trying to pull herself up, the pressure of her arms around his neck getting stronger with every passing second.

"Spencer pulled away laughing a little, removing his hand from her shorts and bringing it to the front, dragging along the inside of her thigh. "Is there something you want from me, pretty girl?"

The nickname sent a fire through her veins that set off every smoke detector in her brain, the alarm coming out in the form of a whimper. "I want to feel you inside me," she whispered, nuzzling her nose to his and reaching down to guide his hand farther up. When his middle finger breached the fabric of her shorts, she whimpered again, willing herself closer to him. "Please, Spencer."

He hummed lowly, drawing circles into her skin. "Are you prepared? Like, do you... have condoms or anything, do we need one?"

"I have some in my top drawer if you want me to get it," she said quickly with a nod.

He laughed a little, amused at her eagerness, before pulling away from her and helping her off the bed. Once she was feet-first on the ground, she strode over to the dresser where she opened a small drawer on the top left and rummaged through it. Meanwhile Spencer followed her and came up behind her, pressing his front to her backside and making her tense. He brushed her hair aside and brought his lips to her neck, his hands resting at her waist.

She slowly rolled her hips against him, sighing out when his hands gripped her tighter. One of them slipped down into her shorts again, this time coming around front and resting over her clothed pussy. His fingers explored her like hers had explored him, teasing her in the same way that made her want to burst into flames.

"So wet already, pretty girl..." he mused, sighing and attacking her neck with more kisses. "I bet I'll be able to just slide right in..."

She outwardly moaned this time, clutching a condom in her hand and then slamming the drawer shut. "Alright then, Mr. PhD, why don't you put that theory to the test?"

He loved how eager she was, and a little impatient. Something told him that if he teased her enough, she might have just begged him for anything. But he didn't want to do that right now. No, right now he was planning on showing the love of his life just how much she meant to him. He was going to give her everything he had, and then some.

So he turned her around and kissed her, walking them backwards until his legs hit the foot of the bed. He almost went down, but before he could, he turned them around again. Y/N's body hit the bed, her legs immediately opening for him to stand between them. Rather than leaning down to kiss her again though, Spencer ran his hands tugged lightly at her shorts, to which Y/N gladly lifted her hips and allowed him to pull them off. Her underwear weren't too far behind, and then she lifted her shirt over her head, tossing it aside and leaning back on her elbows.

Seeing her fully bare like this was enough to drive him mad, but he held on, spreading her knees apart and sliding his hands along the insides of her thighs. "Y/N, you're perfect..." As he marveled at her and showered her with love and praise, he slid his hands further and further up her body until they reached her arms.

She helped him remove his pants and underwear, and once they were off, Y/N tore open the condom and handed it to him. He rolled it on and then leaned forward to kiss her on the forehead. Then her temple, then her cheek... Then he pressed the softest kiss to her lips and looked her in the eyes. "You really want to?"

She smiled at him and nodded, bringing one of his hands to her entrance and pressing his fingers to the wetness that pooled there. "You feel how bad I want it?"

He groaned and kissed her then, circling his middle finger over her clit and making her cry out against him. After a few more seconds of this, Spencer positioned them at the head of the bed and angled his hips forward, the head of his dick coming in contact with her pussy.

He slid in slowly, reveling in every pure, blissful second that went by as he gradually became completely enveloped in her. Once he was buried to the hilt, Y/N threw her head back and bit her lip, her hands reaching out to play with his hair again. He ground himself into her for a few seconds before pulling back and then starting a slow, steady rhythm.

"God, Y/N, you feel so good... So... perfect for me."

"Funny, I was just going to say the same thing about you," she breathed. Her eyes trained themselves on his, and though there was a lot of love there, she saw something else that she recognized, something hesitant. It was close to the same look he gave her last night, after she'd explained to him that she was fine after he examined her injury.

He was going easy on her. But she wanted more.

Y/N reached up to tug his hair gently, biting her lip and batting her eyes. "I'm not made of glass you know... You can fuck me harder if you want to."

Everything from the look on her face to the way she said it to the way she clenched around him as she did made him half feral. He smirked at her without thinking, a natural reaction to her challenge. "Oh, you like it a little rough, huh?"

She smirked back at him and nodded, tugging his hair harder. "Uh huh."

Though he started fucking into her harder, his pace remained slow, accentuating each rough thrust with a huff through his nose. Y/N's mouth opened involuntarily, the power of his movements rendering her almost speechless. Eventually though, she let out one large moan as her fingers even further tightened their grip in Spencer's hair.

Taking note of her reactions, he felt pleased with himself. "You like that, don't you, pretty girl? You like it hard and deep..."

Her hands dropped from his head and rested at the sheets, gripping them instead as he worked his hips a little faster. "Y—yes, baby, I fucking love how hard you fuck me."

The words tumbled out of their mouths so easily, each syllable spoken with the right amount of lust and truth, it was like their conversation was a dance. Their bodies and their words melded together in a perfect number that brought them further towards the climax.

But, as every dance does, their needed a little flourish.

Spencer reached out and caressed her cheek again, his thumb going straight to her lips. Y/N opened her mouth and sucked it in, swirling her tongue around it and groaning at the way he bit his lip when she did so.

"Fuck, pretty girl, you're gonna ruin me if you keep that up."

She smiled at his words, which allowed him to press his thumb flat down onto her tongue. Her mouth remained open as he held it there, her pants and moans coming out clear as day. And as if that wasn't hot enough, she batted her eyelashes up at him, and he fucked her even faster, both of them starting to feel the signs of impending orgasm.

He could have kept his thumb in her mouth forever, but to aid her in pleasure, he removed it, dragging it down her chin before bringing it to her clit and rubbing in tight circles.

"Fuck, Spence, that's it," Y/N moaned, looking down between their bodies and almost losing it at the sight that beheld her. "Don't stop, don't fucking stop!"

He leaned forward to kiss her then, the new angle finally bringing her over the edge. She cried out into his mouth as it explored her own, soaking up all the sounds she made and using them to fuel his own release.

They came together, and it felt like years of tension and anticipation and love finally culminated into one giant explosion that enveloped them whole. It felt like, for a moment, nothing else in the world existed, only Spencer, Y/N, and their palpable connection that felt very much like a home in and of itself.

Even as they came down, their breathing slowing down and their touches becoming gentler, that explosion quieted right alongside them, an echo of love and warmth lingering in its wake.

Spencer pulled out and laid beside her, reaching out and gently touching the bruise under her eye. "You okay?"

She couldn't help but laugh. "Yes. I'm more than okay... I'm perfect."

He smiled at her, pure, true comfort settling in his bones. It was a rare feeling, but he was glad that it came with her presence. "Me, too. And I... I meant what I said last night, Y/N, I... I love you. More than words could accurately describe."

Her heart swelled at his words. "I love you, too, bud. More than anything in the world."

He contemplated for a minute, a smile forming as he said his next words. "More than pickles?"

Y/N threw her head back in a boisterous laugh that made Spencer's heart beat a little faster, before playfully hitting his harm and snuggling up next to him. "Yes, definitely more than pickles."

"Good. That would have been embarrassing."

"I don't love you more than peppermint hot chocolate, though. Or that cuckoo clock."

Spencer pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Yeah, but I got you those things, so technically that means you have to love me at least as much as them..."

"Okay. That's fair, I'll give you that one."

With an over-exaggerated, "Phew," Spencer smiled and pulled her closer, the warm sunlight from the windows giving him the most clear view of their legs tangled together over her lavender-colored comforter. It was so domestic, so perfect and loving and real that he never wanted to forget it.

He was thankful that he never would.

***

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