#work screwed me over so i hope i’ll be back on the weekend!

[thelostconsultant]

Let her go

pairing: Lando Norris x MotoGP rider!reader

summary: You have a massive crash on a weekend when you're both racing. And that crash was really massive.

warnings: major character death (surprise, surprise)

Every time your race weekends took place at the same time, you both promised to watch the other’s sessions live if they weren’t at an ungodly hour that would screw up your sleep schedule, and in every other case you would watch it later when you had the time. It worked well so far, and this weekend wasn’t any different. You were both in Europe, the sessions’ start times were aligned perfectly to make sure fans could watch both F1 and MotoGP.

Lando was sitting on a couch in front of a TV, watching you make it into Q2 from Q1 with the best lap time with a proud smile on his face. Some members of the team joined his little watch party, although he knew perfectly well most of them had their favorite riders, who weren’t necessarily you. But it didn’t bother him. He was one of your biggest fans, and the same way you were one of his.

Four minutes into the qualifying you were in P6, a decent result that would give you a second row start, but there was time for several flying in the remaining time, so he knew you had to improve in run two to keep that position. The Ducatis were fast, and you were riding a GP23 that wasn’t as fast as the newest model, but still gave you a chance to fight for a first row position. Well, Marc was there to snatch it again, but maybe you would stand a chance against the eight-time world champion if you put together one amazing lap.

It was your first flying lap in run two when the cameras began to follow you. You were pushing yourself hard, it was clear, but you had a great first sector and at the moment you were estimated to finish in P2. But then he saw you being catapulted off your bike, landing on the track while the vehicle crashed into the barrier on the side of the track behind the gravel trap. Lando’s breath caught in his throat as he waited for you to jump up and walk away, but you didn’t move.

At all.

The race was immediately red flagged and luckily the other riders noticed you in time and didn’t hit you to make things worse. But the cameras quickly turned to find other parts of the track and the pit lane, the only thing shown related to the accident being the reactions of the team in the box and on the pit wall. Lando could feel his colleagues’ gazes on him, everyone sitting in heavy silence as they waited to find out what was happening. He sent a message to your assistant to make sure she called after getting any news about you, but according to her no one knew anything.

After fifteen long minutes his phone rang, and as if the others could sense he wanted to be alone now, they left without a word. “Hey, you have news?” he asked, voice trembling badly.

The young woman on the other end of the line took a deep breath, then said, “She was airlifted to the hospital. It’s bad, Lando. We’ll only know the exact details after they examined her there, but she’ll be in surgery for a long time apparently. The doc said there might be a spinal injury among the other things. I’m about to book a flight for her parents so they can be there with her.”

He gulped in hopes this could hold back his tears. Your job was dangerous, he had always said those guys in MotoGP were crazy, but having to witness the love of his life crash like that was a little too much. He always assumed the worst that could happen to you was a broken bone in your hand or a cracked collarbone, but a little metal could fix that, just as it had fixed dozens of riders on the grid over the years.

“I’ll be there as soon as I can. Can you keep me updated?” he asked her.

“Sure. FP3 is coming up for you, right? Be careful, the last thing we need is you getting hurt too.”

They said goodbye and Lando leaned back on the couch, looking up at the ceiling. She was right, his next session was just about to begin, but how could he focus on driving when you were in such a bad condition? Maybe he would get in, then get out if his head wasn’t in it. There was no reason to force this.

He felt the couch shift on his side, and when he looked over there, he noticed Oscar sitting next to him with a worried look in his eyes. “I heard what happened,” was all he said.

Lando let out a deep sigh as he ran a hand through his curly hair. “I don’t wanna be here, I wanna be there with her,” he said, his voice breaking as he struggled to keep the tears back. “I’m so stupid, I always thought she was invincible, but in reality she is so fragile, I don’t even know how I could assume she would never get hurt.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” his teammate began as he put a hand on his shoulder. “This was a terrible accident, nothing more. She’s in good hands, there are great doctors there.” When he nodded, Oscar forced a barely visible smile on his face. “I have an idea. Spain isn’t that far away, maybe you could fly there after qualifying, and come back tomorrow before the race. Maybe seeing her could help you focus on driving again.”

It wasn’t such a bad idea, it could actually work, so he nodded and jumped up, moving towards the exit without saying anything. He could hear Oscar following him without missing a beat, and the Aussie soon caught up with him as they headed to find Zak in hospitality where he was last seen. Lando could feel everyone’s gaze on himself, so he assumed the news of your accident had spread like wildfire in the paddock. A journalist tried to approach him, but his teammate was kind enough to get him to leave with an annoyed come on, mate.

Zak was chatting with a VIP guest, but the moment he noticed them arrive, he excused himself and walked over to them. “I heard what happened. How is she? Do you know anything?” he asked worriedly.

Lando shrugged as he tried to find the right words to say. “All I heard is that it’s bad, there might even be a spinal injury.”

“You think you can focus on driving?”

With a nod, he looked down at his hand. “I’ll get in, do a few laps, and we’ll see. I don’t want to miss the weekend unless…”

“Don’t even think about that,” Oscar was quick to say, understanding what the rest of the sentence was supposed to be. “Zak, I’ve been thinking. What if he gets on a plane after qualifying, goes to Spain to see her, then returns tomorrow before the race? Maybe it would be good for him.”

Looking over at his teammate, Lando couldn’t help but feel grateful for his calm personality. He could think straight in even the most stressful situations, and now he could sense that he wasn’t in the right state to come up with these ideas. And Zak seemed to be understanding, because he nodded and agreed to let him do it.

From Lando’s point of view, the practice session just… happened. His head wasn’t in it, he only focused on testing a few settings just to see how the car felt and reacted, but he only did one or two fast laps. Between runs on the track, he kept checking his phone to see if there was any news, but all he saw was a message that you were still in surgery with no new information about you.

Shortly before qualifying, he gave your assistant a call to tell her he would fly there soon, but he wasn’t expecting to be greeted like this. Because she was crying, her voice muffled as she talked, and he had trouble understanding her. Then there were words exchanged in the background, and the phone was obviously taken by someone who wasn’t a crying mess. It was your crew chief, he recognized his voice when he greeted him, but it was also full of sadness.

He knew something was terribly wrong, and he felt nauseous at the thought. “What’s going on?” he managed to ask after some silence.

The man on the other end of the line took a deep breath. “She’s out of surgery, but… she’s hooked on machines and the doctors say she’ll stay that way. The staff in the medical center assumed she only had a severe concussion, but tests showed that the brain injury was much more serious than expected.”

“No.”

“Her parents aren’t here yet, but we talked to them the moment we got new info. They understand what’s happening, and they wanted us to tell you they will wait for you to get here tomorrow so you can say goodbye before they turn off the machines,” he said, his voice cracking by the end.

Lando felt like fainting. His head was spinning, he wanted to throw up, he wanted to scream, but at the same time his body froze entirely. He just stood there in the back of the garage, staring straight ahead as he thought about what he should do. It was only after a minute or two that he took a deep breath and said, “I’m going there right now.”

But Paolo was quick to speak up again. “Lando, listen, she would want you to get in that car and go on with the weekend as if nothing happened. You will come here tomorrow after the race, and you will have time to let her go,” he said, forcing himself to keep his calm.

“What do you mean let her go? Apparently everyone, including her own parents, gave up on her. There has to be at least one person there who fights for her, because the doctors need to do something to fix her!” he yelled into the phone, earning a few worried looks.

“Listen, there’s no fixing her. She’s brain-dead. If it weren’t for the machines, she wouldn’t be alive now.” Silence fell between them, and it was your crew chief who broke it. “Lando?”

“Fuck this,” was all the Brit said before ending the call.

His vision was blurred by the tears, but he wiped them away and headed to where Zak was talking to one of the engineers. At this point he wasn’t about to take no for an answer, so he approached him with the intention to state his intention to leave immediately before actually doing so. When his boss’ eyes fell on him, it was clear that he knew something was wrong, because the moment he got there, Zak grabbed his arm and gently led him to a more private part of their garage.

He didn’t say anything, only waited for his driver to talk to him. But Lando hesitated, having absolutely no idea where to begin and how to tell him the truth about you. Paolo had been right, you would want him to continue, but how could he do that when they were ready to pull the plug without trying to make things right? There had to be something they could do.

Zak seemingly had enough of the silence. “What’s wrong? Bad news about her?” he asked, his voice unusually soft.

Lando nodded. “They say she’s brain-dead and can’t be saved,” he said, once again fighting his tears. “I–I don’t think I can do this. The qualifying, the race, the whole fucking media circus… I just can’t do it, I’m sorry.”

“Okay, try to calm down. Get in the car, do a few laps, and see if you can focus on that. Maybe it will even help you clear your mind,” he tried, but all he got in response was a murderous look. “She would understand if you arrived a few hours later. Just like we agreed; you go there after qualifying, then return tomorrow before the race. We need points to beat Red Bull this year. We need you on the track, Lando, even if it sounds terrible now. Dedicate this weekend to her.”

He agreed, but only because of you. Only because the people around the two of you were right, and as a professional athlete you would focus on your race too. So, he did everything he could to focus, he pushed himself to the limit, and eventually managed to finish the qualifying in P2. First row behind Charles. You would be proud. Their press officer warned the reporters that they should not ask questions about you, so he could focus on the session alone, although mentally he was already on his way to the airport.

A few hours later he met your assistant in the hospital’s lobby after fighting his way through the army of photographers and reporters outside. She guided him to the room you were in without saying a single word, and when you reached the door, she stayed outside, even though everyone was inside. He gave her a questioning look when he turned back, but she only shook her head and wiped away her tears.

Your mother jumped up and hugged him tightly when she noticed him, and your father also stood up to do the same. Lando didn’t know what to say, but neither did your parents. Paolo was watching him with a worried look in his eyes, the memory of their previous conversation probably vivid in his mind. But he wasn’t about to make a scene. He had time to think, he had time to do some research, so now he understood the chances of you coming back to them was close to none.

With hesitant steps, he walked to the side of the bed and took your hand, his thumb massaging your skin the same way he had done so many times in the past. But now you wouldn’t react, you wouldn't wrap your delicate fingers around his hand with that adorable smile on your face. He started crying, for the first time letting himself go and not holding it back, and he began to tell you between sobs how sorry he was for not coming sooner, for all the times you fought over stupid, meaningless things, for not proposing before it became too late.

He told you how much he loved you, how he couldn’t imagine ever loving anyone else the same way he loved you. Then he leaned down to kiss your lips, probably for the very last time, and he kept repeating I love you like it was a mantra that kept him sane.

After God knows how long, your mother put a hand on his shoulder to make him look at her. By now he had stopped crying, but after seeing her watering eyes, he had a feeling he would be crying again soon. Because he could tell what was coming, he could feel it in his bones. That grave sadness in her eyes could only mean one thing, and even though he wasn’t ready to hear it, he paid close attention to every word.

“I think it’s time to let her go,” she said hoarsely.

To his own surprise, Lando nodded and let her take his place, then he stood in a corner and watched as your parents said goodbye to you. He didn’t want this, he couldn’t accept that he lost you, but a rational part in his mind told him it was over, and it was time to let you go. Your mother was right, it was better to turn off the machines now, because seeing you hooked on them for a few more days would only drive them crazy.

He said goodbye to your parents in the hospital after the doctor announced the time of your death and went to his hotel to spend the night crying and suffering on his own. He saw the messages on his phone, and he noticed the way their number increased after your team announced your death on official channels. But he didn’t want to talk to anyone, and even at the race the next day, he avoided everyone as long as he could. If he talked, he only talked about the car and the upcoming race, everything else was a taboo at the moment.

On the track he was powered by his rage, which resulted in a couple of aggressive moves, but in the end, he managed to win the race. When he stood in front of the reporter after getting out of the car, he was terrified of a question regarding you arising, because he was damn sure he would break down at that very moment, but apparently his press officer had previously told them not to bring it up. So, all he said was a simple I did it for her at the end and nothing more.

It would be a long process to move on, he knew that.

His parents told him to come over until the funeral so he wouldn’t be alone, which would surely help him calm down a bit, then he would lock himself up in his home and his focus would shift back to racing again. But deep down he knew he had to let his friends close again too, because they kept assuring him that they were there, and he could always count on them. Maybe that was the key. Maybe letting others support him would speed up the grieving process.

[bisexualiteaa]

How The Boys Met You

Character list: Soap, Price, Gaz, König, and Ghost

AN: This one is a little different than the stuff I’ve been posting lately, sort of a throw back to some of my old content! I will be getting back to the regular stuff as well, just wanted to post some of the things that have been in the works for a while now! Hope y’all enjoy! 🥰

CW: slight OOC task force 141 + König, deviance from the games, fem bodied reader, possibly poor attempt at writing accents, flirting, talk of dating apps, being stood up, mentions of alc0h0l, mentions of w0unds, mostly fluff, slight suggestive themes, cursing, possible grammar and spelling errors

Taglist: @expirednukacola

John “Soap” MacTavish

- He was at his favorite pub, spending the weekend enjoying a few drinks with a couple of the guys.

- Three beers deep, going on about some stupid story that anyone could tell by the guy’s faces that he’d told a million times already, and every time told it as if they hadn’t all been there to witness it just to get to the butt of a joke.

- ✨Then you walked in✨

- He was speechless as you walked up to the bar. Your cute, form fitting dress on, heels that made your legs look absolutely stunning and your make up all done. You looked too damn good to be sitting in a place like this he thought.

- The only thing off about it all? You had a sad look on your face as you sat down, breathing a heavy sigh before the bartender made his way over to you so that you could order a drink.

- It made his heart hurt to see someone so pretty look so sad, not to mention the guys were totally teasing him and daring him to talk to you.

- The “make your move before I do” ™️

- “I’ll have an old fashioned please, extra cherries” you ordered, and he knew right then and there that you were different than the usual crowd this place pulled in.

- “Put it on my tab, I think I’ll have the same” Johnny spoke, making you turn to look at him, intrigued by his Scottish accent and the fact that he had just paid for you.

- You tried telling him he didn’t have to, but he kindly insisted, making you blush before you thanked him.

- “You look beautiful if ya don’t mind me sayin” he said, making you smile at his compliment, the first one you’d gotten all night. “Thank you! It was a new dress I bought for a date tonight but…I got stood up. So I came here instead to take a little of the pain away” you responded, and he understood where the pain in your eyes came from now.

- “Steamin’ Jesus…someone really stood you up? What ‘n idiot. They really missed out. Ya look stunnin’. Anyone would be lucky t’ go out with a gal like you” Johnny said, making you blush again as you smiled.

- Secretly it made your night.

- “How about I give it a try? We have some drinks, I tell you a little about myself, you tell me about your fine self, and we have a good time in the makin’? I’d happily make up for the screw up they made to get t’ know ya and see ya leave with a smile if you’re willin’. And if I’m lucky, hopefully I’ll get t’ leave with your number so we can have a second one” he said, and rather smoothly at that, making you giggle as you took a sip of your drink. “Alright lover boy, seeing as we have drinks, tell me about yourself” you replied with a grin and he lit up with joy at your humor and you accepting his offer.

- Was better than you could have ever expected, certainly better than the stuffy, upscale place you were at originally. You were glad you ended up meeting someone at the pub he soon figured out that you frequented just about as much as he did.

- Even better? You went home with a smile, he went home with your number in his phone, and both of you went home with a plan for a second date. 💖

Captain John Price

- You were a barista at his favorite cafe he’d been going to for years now.

- When he wasn’t gone on deployment, he would come every day at the same time around lunch time, right before the rush, and leave once it was done.

- He ordered the same thing every time. Hot tea no matter the temperature outside, two sugars and a splash of cream and he would sit in the same spot by the window, reading or working on his laptop.

- You learned he was never terribly big on sweets, assuming he got most of his sugar intake with his drink, but every once in a while you’d slip him a bakery item for free.

- He was convinced it was just you being nice and making sure he had food before returning to work because it was a bad habit he was doing his best to break, but anyone else who knew? Was thoroughly convinced it was your own method of flirting with him.

- Sometimes you would take your break and sit and talk with him, try and get to know him more than just his order, the name he would give you to write on the cup and his phone number for the rewards account.

- One day it had been a particularly difficult day before he’d come in, but upon walking in and breathing in the lovely smells, seeing your bright smile, and hearing you sweetly greet him, he already felt ten times better.

- He returned the sentiment as he walked up to the counter, not even opening his mouth before you had put his order in the POS already, wishing to save him the trouble with how stressed and tired he looked. “A delight as always, love” he said, making you smile again. “Rough morning?” You asked as you made it for him, seeing stress written all over his face made you feel for him. “Very” he responded through a sigh as he took out his wallet while talking to you and watching you make it. “Four twenty nine as usual?” He asked, making you smile as you sat it down in front of him. “It’s on the house today. Please, sit and rest, I’ll have it out to you asap!” you said sweetly. “And if it isn’t too classified, I go on break in ten. I’m happy to lend an ear if you wish to confide your burdens or just to talk” you added, making him smile as he took a seat, pulling a chair out for you for when you were clocked out on break.

- You spent a little over time on break talking, having lost track of the time but it wasn’t busy so you knew it was okay.

- As he was about to leave as you were clocking back in, but it was then that he saw you’d left your number on the back of his cup, making him smile before quickly adding you into his contacts.

- Hello love, this is John. I wanted to say it was lovely talking with you today, thank you for the tea and for making the rest of my day go by much better. ❤️ I’d like to take you somewhere that isn’t the cafe sometime if you’d allow me, what do you say? you read on your phone, making a bright smile stretch to your lips as you excitedly responded and planned a proper date with him.

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick

- Poor Kyle had been on just about every dating app he and the boys could to find to get him the perfect girl to settle down with.

- From Tinder, to Hinge, to failed dates set up by finding people in person, he wasn’t sure if his heart would be able to withstand anymore heartbreak.

- This was attempt number eight, with seven dates failed before this. Why was the dating world so difficult now? He did everything he could to be himself and present himself as someone suitable.

- He swore to himself that if this one didn’t work out, that he would give up on it entirely. After all they do say you don’t find the right one when you’re searching for them, they find you.

- Or at least that’s what the married ones say.

- So when his date was running twenty, almost thirty minutes late to their supposed date, he was hurt but sadly wasn’t shocked either.

- He gave a heavy sigh as he checked his watch, then his phone for any communication from her. No text messages, no calls, absolutely nothing to let him know that his date was on their way or even still on for it.

- You were sat at the bar enjoying a few drinks as you normally do on the weekends, when you saw him walk in and grab a table for two.

- He was a handsome young man in your eyes, nicely dressed in a nice dress shirt, slacks, and a nice jacket seeing as it was raining outside.

- You were slightly saddened to find that he was there waiting for a someone else, assuming he was on a date, but when you’d stolen a few glances his way through the night, you noticed he’d been sitting there for a while and the second person had yet to show up.

- Your heart hurt for him, knowing what it was like to be stood up, it was the reason you gave up on dating all together yourself.

- When more time had passed by and his date still hadn’t shown, you decided to take the faithful leap.

- You weren’t sure if it was the alcohol in your system, or just the way that you sympathized with what he was going through, but just as he was getting ready to stand up and walk out, you found yourself walking over to his table.

- “Hey there handsome, I couldn’t help but see you’ve been sitting here for a while. Mind if I join you?” You asked kindly, and he had to admit, it took him back a bit.

- You looked stunning, donned in a nice cocktail dress, your hair and makeup done nicely, he figured you came here often with the way the waiters knew you and your drink order well.

- “Sure, that sounds lovely actually” he replied, his British accent taking you by slight surprise but with a kind smile in return. Maybe this failed date could take a turn for the better after all.

- You two sat and spoke over shared glasses of wine, some food, and got to know each other some.

- You talked of your hobbies, your work, your life goals, your favorite things, over all it had turned out far nicer than he could have imagined it would have been.

- You were both laughing and talking amongst each other when another woman came up to the table, looking dressed for a date and seemingly not very happy to see you sitting in her place.

- “Umm excuse me, I think you have the wrong guy, I’m supposed to be on a date with him” the girl spoke, pointing to him and regarding him as if he were an object of her possession making you turn to her and you fought to stifle a harsh laugh.

- “Oh I’m sorry, were you the one whose seat I’m in? Funny because you’re about two hours late sister. Finders keepers” you replied, trying to wave her off then turn back to Kyle and ignore the woman who clearly stood him up by the hickies all over her neck that were very poorly covered.

- “Excuse me?!” She asked angrily, making you turn back to her once again, only this time more annoyed at her persistence and rudeness. “Oh I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you were dense and rude, I said finders keepers. Should keep that in mind next time when you decide to be late to a date because you were too busy having fun with another” you said, gesturing to her hair that was slightly unkempt and the fresh love bites along her neck.

- It took everything in Kyle to not let his jaw hit the table at your response in his defense.

- He liked you even more now.

- “Oh and newsflash sweetie, that concealer really isn’t your shade. If you want to cover up hickies, find one that matches. Now if you excuse us, we’re trying to have a nice dinner here and I’d really like to get back to the very nice man you decided to stand up” you said, making her angrily scoff and look to Kyle for his defense.

- “Ugh, Kevin! C’mon, tell her to leave! This was supposed to be our night!” She said, making you cringe at her whiney tone and the way she didn’t even know his name.

- “My name’s Kyle and no. She was kind enough t’ come up t’ me when you weren’t here and I’m havin’ a rather lovely time with her. I’m sure the date who entertained you before this would happily take you back. I will not be rude and ask the woman who’s so kindly kept me company to leave because you think you’re entitled to crash our date” he replied, and she did NOT like that one bit.

- “DATE?! Ugh, whatever! I knew I shouldn’t have come here” she said angrily before stomping away once it became apparent that you weren’t leaving.

- He couldn’t have been more relieved, then soon enamored by you. First, you come over to him because you didn’t want him to be alone, then you defend him against his date?

- Where have you been all this time?

- “That was your date? If you asked me, I think you dodged a bullet there” you said with a grin, making him chuckle.

- “I couldn’t agree with you more” he replied, enjoying your company far more.

- “Glad to know you’re having a lovely time with me, because the feeling is quite mutual” you said genuinely, making a blush rise to his face before smiling back at you.

- Once the date was over, you both exchanged numbers, keeping in contact and being sure to step up more dates to come.

- Maybe his married buddies were right, all it took was for him to stop searching and there you suddenly were.

König

- He wasn’t exactly proud of it, but he met you through one of the guys who had set you up with him as a one night stand.

- Someone that would just give him some fun and a chance to relax for a night, with the guys claiming he needed to be “less tense”

- He’d had his fair share of sexual encounters before from past girlfriends and the occasional hookup, but something about you felt different.

- You were kind and sweet, a little shy, and of course really attractive.

- Not to mention the sex was unbelievably good.

- He loved that he was so much bigger than you, that you felt so small in his hands as they slid around your waist and to your hips as he kissed you, and how yours trailed his biceps and hard chest.

- Thought it was cute that you have to get up on your tiptoes to kiss him or to loop your arms around his neck.

- What he loved most was how you toyed with him, how you could be obedient and bratty, you could be dominant and submissive.

- You had an almost chaotic, unpredictable air about you.

- You were the wild card he’s been looking for.

- So as you both laid in his bed, his hand running along your back soothingly as you laid on top of him, naked and enjoying the after glow of the activities you’d just taken part in, the words left him without any second thought.

- “Could we…maybe see each other again, liebling?” He asked, and how you swooned at the nickname and his German accent.

- You thought it was so cute that a man of his stature, someone who looked so scary and big could be so shy.

- “Awww, do I have someone hooked?” You asked in a teasing tone with a devious giggle to match, making him blush at your words.

- “It doesn’t have to be like this again i-if you don’t want it to” he stammered, making you giggle as he tripped over his words a little.

- “I wouldn’t half mind if it was…” you said with a half lidded grin, littering kisses against his neck and chest because truth be told, you were a little hooked on him too.

- “Would you let me take you out? Properly get to know you?” He asked, wanting to treat you right, wanting to show that he had better intentions than just a one night stand if you’d let him.

- He’d have started that way had one of his friends not set this up without him knowing.

- “that sounds really nice” you replied sweetly, liking the idea of maybe seeing where it goes.

- It was adorable seeing the excitement that flashed in his eyes when you agreed, making you giggle.

- “Such a gentleman, I like it” you added, feeling butterflies begin to flutter in your stomach at the thought.

- He gave a chuckle as he rolled you both to where he was on top of you, taking you by surprise at first before looking up at him with that half lidded gaze he couldn’t get enough of.

- “I’ll take you out to dinner, get to know you, treat you right, then we can come back here…and I can be far less gentlemanly” he said through kisses he laid against your neck and shoulder, making you giggle.

- “I’d like that” you whispered in reply as your lips found his once more, a smile donning your lips at the prospect of it.

- He could hardly wait, the guilt of knowing your body first and the rest of you later no longer ate at his conscience as you both were swept up in the moment again.

Simon “Ghost” Riley

- He was a frequent flier to medical more so now than he ever was before since meeting you, and you were the nurse he’d always see to help him.

- Hardly was he ever really there for anything super serious, a cut here, a gash there, an infection from something caught out in the field.

- He rarely ever enjoyed anyone fussing over him, in fact if it weren’t for you, he wouldn’t even go to medical for his injuries, more of the type to tough it out with a bottle of whiskey and some pain pills to take the edge off.

- It was your soft touch on his arm as you stitched him up, the way you respected his privacy in not asking him to remove his mask anytime he was there, even the smell of your shampoo as you tended to a cut on his collarbone.

- You would always smile and shake your head, hands on your hip like a mom whose child got back from causing trouble when he would enter.

- “What’s it this time?” You’d ask before he’d show you, then tell you briefly and vaguely about how it happened and groan and complain that it happened at all.

- This time however was far more serious.

- You saw the blood seeping through his shirt, dripping as he walked, his hand clutched to the wound as he saw you, making you all but drop what you were doing.

- “Si? Oh my god, sit, sit! What the hell happened??” You asked, concern evident in your tone, something he’d never really gotten from others before.

- Did he just hear you call him Si? Oh the poor man was hooked without even knowing.

- “Just a bullet sweetheart, had thousands of ‘em fly my way, just unlucky enough this time t’ ‘ave one land” he said nonchalantly but you could tell by its placement that he was in pain.

- “You’ve been shot and you’re just walking in here as if it were nothing? Why didn’t you call me? I’d have come to you! Actually don’t answer that, I know you’re too stubborn and wouldn’t let me” you replied, making him chuckle.

- You had him lay down on his back, slicing open the shirt with a pair of scissors before tearing it so you could get to the wound quickly and with no obstructions.

- And that was the most attractive thing he swore he’d ever seen.

- “An’ here I thought you were suppose t’ take me out on a date before you rip my shirt off” he said dryly, wanting that look of worry and that tense stressed feeling to fall from you, making you laugh.

- “Fuck, well they didn’t teach us that in basics” you replied, making him chuckle as you laughed along with while getting him and your tools prepped.

- “Maybe that was my lucky shirt” he joked once more, making you roll your eyes with a playful grin but you were still worried about him.

- “We can mourn the shirt later, I’m more worried about the bullet inside of you and getting it out first” you added, making him grin beneath his mask as you blushed a little at the sight of him shirtless.

- “Practically skipped dates one through three at this point, seen me down t’ everything above the belt” he said, making you laugh again as you cleaned his wound and prepped your instruments to remove the bullet.

- “Well, maybe if you keep coming back for me to check on you and the progress of your stitches, then in say maybe…four weeks for proper healing, I’ll take you up on a proper date” you proposed, and he couldn’t lie, he liked the sounds of that.

- “Then, maybe if you’re lucky, we’ll skip the shirt and get below the belt finally too” you said, sending a grin and a wink his way, making him chuckle as the clang of the shell casing hit the metal bowl.

- “That means no more getting shot in that time though, or else you’ll have to wait even longer” you teased, making him chuckle again.

- “Fuckin’ torturin’ me luv. Makin’ me wait that long” he replied, making you giggle a little and you figured it was the morphine kicking in that let him be this open with you, not that he hadn’t been before but he was certainly more relaxed now.

- Would mumble compliments under his breath like “smell s’good luvie” “y’ look s’pretty like that” making your cheeks feel as if they were being light on fire and the smile never leaving your lips.

- Little did you know, he secretly would be counting down the days and had more of a reason not to get himself killed out in the field.

[fr33time]

Hiii (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶), can I request for a hurt/comfort reader x Jin or Romeo fic?

✦❘༻Self care to forget༺❘✦

Divider credits: @thecutestgrotto

Pairing: Romeo Lucci x GN!reader

Synopsis: MC was cursed by an anomaly, which caused them to have one of the worst days of their life. After breaking their arm after an investigation with Vagastrom, Romeo calls MC to his private room on business, but MC is more than over with the day.

A/N: Yesss of course!! I chose Romeo this time, so I hope you’ll enjoy the idea I have for him!!! I don’t find many Romeo fics so I felt like I should fill the space with one. He’s still a tad difficult to write but I made sure to go through his in game chats, and check through the wikis to see how he spoke. I had fun writing this, and it’s interesting to try something new. Enjoy! Also sorry this took so long to release, I’ve been busy again and I have work to do so I’ll probably only get to writing on weekends. I wrote most of this late at night so I apologize for any mistakes, feel free to let me know! I’ve been waiting for episode 9 to release and I can’t wait since it looks like a Halloween special chapter. Until my next work!

Genre: Hurt/comfort, oneshot

Find my requesting rules here!

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Life did not particularly favour you at the moment. You ended up being taken to an emergency room for breaking your arm, if it had been a sort of sprain then a couple anomalous medicine packs could have fixed it, but the world loves to beat you when you’re down.

About 4 days ago you were sent to be the inspector of a mission with the Vagastrom house. They were investigating a mass wave of kidnappings that they believed to have been caused by an anomaly. This morning was supposed to be the final day of the investigation, where you and the ghouls were planning to capture the anomaly and complete the mission. The day was doomed from the start with an air of bad luck following you throughout. You fell through the floor of the Clementia house, you kept stepping in pot holes and almost spraining your ankle, when the world was seemingly trying to kill you, it also made everything very inconvenient. You were losing everything you placed on furniture the previous night, stepped on a pregnant spider, the power went out, etc.

The final straw was when the investigation was reaching its final stages. Some plans flew off the rails and you ended up being chased by the anomaly. Once it grabbed you, you managed to maneuver yourself out of its grasp, but in turn you ended up falling from the second floor of a building onto the first floor because of a giant hole in the floor. It would not have been this bad if you fell in a different position, but you fell head first and it triggered the instinct to break the fall with your arms.

You were rushed to the emergency room after the anomaly was unfortunately destroyed. Apparently, the anomaly put a mini curse on you that gave you dreadful bad luck. On the bright side, darkwick had come across a curse like this before and was able to lift it almost immediately. Your arm was patched up, and was told that it would heal in up to 12 weeks on account of the clean break, and sent you home.

You felt shitty, all you wanted was to rest and you were stuck having to deal with the ghouls in Vagastrom on the way back. Alan and Sho seemed really concerned for you, but decided to stay silent for now in fear that you weren’t into conversation. Leo on the other hand had a bitter face plastered on, it will always be perplexing how he manages to say the worst things at the worst times.

“Y’know, we could’ve captured that anomaly if honour roll hadn’t screwed up.” Alan immediately threw him a nasty look and signalled him to shut up. Honestly, you weren’t in the mood, if you didn’t feel so drained then you could’ve responded back to him but you didn’t have the heart. Soon, you were back at your dorm, once the Vagastrom ghouls dropped you off and said they would check on you later, you sat in silence for a while. You laid down on the bed and started to drift to sleep until you heard a buzzing on your phone. You could’ve ignored it but clearly someone was spam texting you to get your attention. Out of obligation, you peeked at your phone and checked the messages.

New girl!

Report to the VIP room this instant!

Are you ignoring me?!?!

This won’t be tolerated, if you’re not here in 5 minutes there will be serious consequences!

You groaned out of frustration seeing Romeo’s spammed messages on your screen. You immediately went to pick up your phone and text back, trying to explain what happened today,

Romeo I can’t come right now, can you let me off the hook this time? I’ve had a really bad day and I just want to lay down…

I don’t want your excuses, I’ll add 2 extra minutes on your clock, you better be grateful because you’re wasting my precious time!

And it’s Fico, get it right!

You guessed that there was no saying no to him. You rushed to Sinostra as best you could, but there was no way that you were going to attempt to run there. As you walked inside, the guards that were standing outside of the VIP room were greeting you,

“MC, Fico’s expecting you, head inside.” Most of the staff knew who you were by now. You had been working around Sinostra more recently due to Romeo making you do “Eyes in the Sky” surveillance for him. He was a teensy bit more lenient on you lately, you weren’t sure why but you liked to think that he was getting used to you, bit by bit. It was already later than usual, so you wondered why Romeo wanted you to come to the VIP room at 9PM. The guards opened up the VIP room for you, and stepped inside. Romeo was sitting down on the luxurious couch, sifting through paper work that surrounded his desk. The door behind you closed, and you realized that Romeo didn’t bother to have bodyguards with him. You stood in front of the table, barely keeping it together. It felt like you could snap the tiny bit of composure that you had at any time.

“I thought I told you to rush over here!” Romeo finally decided to look at you and noticed your horrendous physique. Your arm was in a cast, clothes were dirty, eyes drooped down to hell, and your posture was so unacceptable that it felt violating to his eyes.

“What the hell happened to you?”

In that moment, everything inside of your head spilled out onto the floor. You couldn’t hold it any longer. Before you realized what happened, you were on the floor, breaking down. Your chest tightened and tears streamed out on your face and onto the floor. It felt humiliating, crying in front of Romeo like this but you’ve never felt so down on your luck before. It was crushing that it felt like the whole world was against you today, it wasn’t always like that but a pile of stress was building up over the course of the mission, especially today.

“I just- I just wanted to be left alone! My arm hurts so bad- everything is so fucking- shitty!” Your brain couldn’t keep up with your words, your line of consciousness was being interrupted by your hyperventilating. Your throat hurt, it hurt so much from wanting to cry out and having to swallow everything down.

“Just leave me- the fuck alone! I want to sleep— so fucking bad- why won’t any- one just let me rest for once today!” Romeo was stunned, he sat there looking at you while your cries were the only noise echoing in the room. Your eyes were red, and puffy, you looked pitiful while sitting on the floor of his expensive private room. He got up from his couch and kneeled down in front of you, hovering his finger over your mouth.

“Shut up for a moment!” You stopped speaking but there was nothing you could do about your hyperventilation. You tried to breathe deeply, but didn’t help your uncontrollable gasps for air. You looked away from his eyes and tried to look down at the floor, it felt less shameful. Romeo sighed heavily, and got up onto his feet.

“Stand up” you followed what he said and tried to get off of your knees.

“Just looking at the state you’re in is giving me wrinkles. Don’t say anything and follow me” Romeo started walking and signalled you to come along. You followed him and ended up in his bathroom, one of the most spotless bathrooms you’ve ever seen with countless beauty products on the counters and in cupboards. Your breathing was starting to calm down but you were still in rough shape. Now you were confused, why would Romeo take you in here? He started filing through his cabinets and grabbing a few things.

“I’m going to fix you up because you look horrendous, but for now go and monitor my EITS and wait till I’m done. This just means you’re gonna work twice as hard tomorrow as payment for this.” You started to realize that he was going to take care of you when you looked at all of the products in his arms. You listened to what he said and sat down on his couch to look at the cameras in the casino. You didn’t mind staying any longer anymore, it would be nice to rest but you felt like Romeo wanted to help you in his own weird way. That’s what you wanted to believe, and in reality it wasn’t that far from the truth. It made you smile a bit, but you knew that if Romeo caught you then he would probably throw you out in an instant, so you kept it down. You were done with everything, this was the best you were gonna get out of everything. Not much time passed before Romeo set up, he called you over before you knew it.

“New girl! Get over here!” You got up and met Romeo in the bathroom, finding a chair in front of the sink, with a whole line of facial items set up.

“Sit down and straighten your back. I won’t accept sloppiness.” As you sat down, Romeo cleared space and put his laptop on the counter in front of you. It looked like he still wanted you to work, but he interrupted your thought as he spoke.

“I’ll watch it, but tell me if you see something wrong or there’ll be consequences.” Romeo turned your chair so that it was parallel to the counter. Facing it towards him, it helped him see your face better and it was easier to apply things on you. He stayed organized and started to put things on your face, first a cold compress eye mask, then a cold towel to reduce overall swelling in your face, applied a couple moisturizers, gently massaging your eyelids, it felt like pure bliss. You weren’t sure why he was doing this, and even Romeo was questioning why he did this all for you. He wanted to make you stop crying by giving you a mini facial, and registered it as wanting to get rid of your scrunched up face and out of his sight to use it against you later.

You looked in the mirror after he was done and barely recognized yourself. You were glowing, and it looked like you never even cried in the first place. When you checked the time, it was almost 11PM. There were many missed messages from Alan, asking where you were and if you were alright.

“Oh wow, it’s getting really late. I’m so sorry for taking up your time, I should be going soon!” When you were getting back up, you felt a pair of hands push down gently on your shoulders to make you sit.

“You’re sleeping here tonight, I’m not listening to complaints. You’re getting up in the morning and working all day for me tomorrow as payment. I spent my precious time on you, so you should feel indebted to me.” He folded his arms and looked at you, expecting an answer.

“Um… where would I even sleep?” You didn’t have the strength to fight, it’s not like you wanted to walk all the way back to your dorm late at night anyways. You were tired and needed to rest, it didn’t matter where it was anymore.

“On the couch, it’s high quality so it should be better than the shabby one you have. Any BFB would be able to tell the quality difference as soon as they sat down.” You were a bit perplexed by his out of place acronyms, but you had no clue what he was talking about.

“…BFB?”

“Bumbling Fucking Buffoons, it should be obvious.” All you could do was smile slightly and nodding your head to appease him. Romeo got up to set up the couch comfortably, you still had a broken arm so you needed a cozy space to be in to put your mind at ease.

“Thank you Romeo, I feel much better now. You helped me alot, and I appreciate it.” He was turned away from you, so you couldn’t see the look on his face, but a slight blush came across his face. He shouldn’t be feeling embarrassed but he did, he didn’t understand his own feelings.

“It’s Fico, you BB. I’m making sure you wake up early to get started in an organized fashion, so enjoy comfort while it lasts.” You were surprised that Romeo did all of this for you, but it was sweet in his standards. He made you feel better by giving you some self care, and offered you to stay here so you wouldn’t walk back. He did want you to work all day tomorrow, but you could make it through, he didn’t assign hard tasks to you so you weren’t worried. You hoped that you and him could have a better relationship someday, it was going to take a while, he had multiple walls in front of him that were made out of brick. But it felt like you climbed over that first hurdle.

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[try-set-me-on-fire]

In the hopes of getting more material to melt over, I'm sending you the soft prompt "shoulder kisses"

Send me soft prompts! Find the finished ones on ao3!

"You make me wanna, like, mow the lawn."

"What?" Eddie glances up from the old flashlight he’s trying to screw back together after replacing the busted bulb because this one’s always worked fine, Buck, what do I need a new one for? Whatever. Buck is going to hide a nice newer model in the truck somewhere. “Does the lawn need mowing?”

“What?” Buck cranes up in his seat at the kitchen table to see what he can of the backyard. “Eh. I’ll do it this weekend.”

“You know you don’t have to,” Eddie says down to the plastic and metal in his palms, frowning when the pieces refuse to come together right.

“No, I know, but I want to. Didn’t I just say that?”

“Yeah,” Eddie nods, finally solving the flashlight puzzle and blinking it directly into Buck’s eyes a few times. “But it kind of seemed like you were talking about something else.”

“I guess I kinda was.” Buck leans back in the chair, crossing his arms behind his head. "You make me wanna… do laundry and go grocery shopping and mop the floor.

Eddie raises an eyebrow with a little smile, leaning back in his own chair. “You saying we’re getting too domestic? Need to spice things up?”

“No,” Buck huffs a laugh. “I’d mow your lawn any day.”

“Well now it sounds like a sex thing,” Eddie teases, and his foot bumps into Buck’s under the table.

Buck laughs again, louder. “I mean,” he wiggles his eyebrows. “We could figure something out.”

Eddie’s eyes crinkle up in his grin as he shakes his head and gathers up the tools on the table. He snaps them into their case with satisfying plastic clicks and goes to store them back in their place under the sink. When he comes back to the table he takes slow steps, past his own chair to stand in front of Buck and run a hand through his hair. "Why do I make you want to do chores?"

"It’s like…" Buck leans into the warmth of his palm. “Being alive.” Eddie raises an eyebrow and Buck rests his hands on his belly to feel him breathing. “I mean… having a life? Sharing- I mean, we skipped right to it.”

“To what?” Eddie kind of hums the question, fingers still moving through Buck’s hair in a way that makes his eyes want to drift shut.

“I mean, even before we were-“ Buck gestures between the two of them. “We shared everything already. I think I literally actually did mow your lawn like two weeks after I met you.”

Eddie laughs, low, and Buck’s hands on his torso shake with it. “You did. I’m not sure I even knew I had a lawnmower.”

“Yeah, it looked pretty sad out there.” Eddie tugs on his hair for the comment, but only very gently. “So I guess… we skipped all the other things. Getting to know you, pretending to be somebody you’d like.”

Eddie’s eyes are soft. “Buck, I like you plenty.”

“I know,” Buck says, quiet through the smile spread over his face. “You make me feel real.”

Eddie’s eyes are even softer, and his fingers stop moving, his hand just resting against Buck’s skull. “You’re plenty real.”

“I know. It’s… I don’t have to impress you. I don’t have to be anything. I just get to live real, everyday life with you. I want to do all those things not because I think I have to, to make you stay. I want to mow your lawn because it’s my lawn.”

Eddie inhales and exhales a few times, just looking down at him, and then ducks down to press a slow kiss into the skin revealed by Buck’s old ratty sweatshirt sliding down his trapezius. When he pulls back he only goes far enough to look Buck in the eyes. “I want to do your laundry,” he whispers, mouth pulling into a little smile. “I wanna mow your lawn.”

Buck eyes drift down to his lips. “That does sound like a sex thing.”

Eddie’s small smile grows into an easy grin. “I’m sure we could figure something out.”

[lovelyleclercs]

In the Dark- CL16

Charles Leclerc x Fem!Reader

-> Charles is in need of comfort after a rough weekend on track.

warnings: mentions of Ferrari having bad strategies/engine issues, sad Charles not proof read

word count: 910

A/N: I wrote this late last night on my phone lol but I hope you like it!

the silence between the two of you was comfortable, nothing much to say after a rough weekend at the track. the hotel room was dark, very little light peeking through the blinds from the skyscrapers that were shining in the dark night sky.

charles had his arm draped over you as he laid on his side behind you, holding you as close to him as he possibly could.

you had your hand resting gently on his arm, your fingers gliding up and down his smooth skin slowly, your way of letting charles know that you were there for him if he needed to talk, but you otherwise intended on keeping quiet, not wanting to disturb him from his thoughts.

charles nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, pulling you closer to him as you adjusted the bedding over the two of you. “you can turn the tv on if you’d like, i know you can’t sleep in the dark” he whispered against your neck, his eyes starting to grow a bit heavy as the events of today had finally started to take their toll on him.

you shook your head and turned your head a bit to place a kiss to his forehead. “i’m ok, honey. i’ve got you here with me, i’m as safe and comfortable as i’ll ever be.”

charles smiled a little and kissed your shoulder gently. “only if you say so”

“you know that i’m here for you if you want to talk, right?” you said as you turned your body over so that you could face your boyfriend.

charles brushed a few strands of your hair out of the way and nodded, leaving his hand on your cheek out of habit. “i know, baby. i know…”

you put your hand on top of charles’ and smiled sadly, knowing that he had no intentions of telling you whatever was going on in his mind at that given moment.

“i wish i could be more open with you… i’m trying my hardest to work on it, but everytime i try to tell you something, my mind tells me to stop talking… almost as if it’s convincing me that i’m just a burden to you… does that make sense?”

you nodded, understanding where he was coming from completely. “it makes total sense. I want you to know that you aren’t being a burden to me… you can always come to me whenever you need to talk… you know that honey.

charles sighed and rolled onto his back, staring up at the ceiling. “i’m sorry, this is probably so frustrating for you… seeing me all closed off like this but wanting to help me…”

“don’t apologize, you can’t control it. whenever you feel ready to talk to me, i know you will. until then, i’ll be here, waiting for you to talk to me”

charles sniffled a bit, indicating that he as starting to get emotional, which was something that didn't happen very often. “i’m not meant for this sport… i should be winning more races by now.. i should be higher in championship points…”

you turned charles face towards yours and smiled sadly, wiping the one tear that had slipped down his cheek gently. “my love… you can’t blame not winning more races on yourself. there are so many races you should’ve won this year, but didn’t due to a shit strategy or an unreliable engine… you are meant for this sport, honey. i promise you that one day you will become world champion, and all these silly things you’re feeling now, won’t matter the day that championship trophy becomes yours.”

"it just sucks, you know? the season started out so strong, podiums and wins... I don't know what happened... all the hopes of the championship have quickly faded away.. it's a lot to process, it's overwhelming honestly."

You nodded and squeezed Charles' hand. "I know, it's been hard to watch, too. but you have worked so hard all season long, proven your dedication to the team despite how many times they screwed you over, and most importantly, you did your absolute best with the materials and strategies you were given."

Charles laid his head on your chest and sighed. "I know, but it doesn't make the loss any easier to process. now I have to chase after P2 in the constructors championship.. Checo and I are literally tied for points..."

You ran your hand gently through Charles curls, trying to get him to relax a bit. "I know, but don't worry about that for now. you have a week off to relax, don't spend that week stressing over things you can't control. You know that you have to driving ability to beat checo, if the team or the car fails you, then that is out of your control. Don't worry about what you can't control right now"

Charles looked up at you and smiled a little. "You always have an answer for everything, don't you?"

You laughed a little and kissed him gently. "almost always. now try to get some sleep, ok? It's been a long weekend and we have a long flight tomorrow"

Charles laid his head back down against your chest, allowing you to hold him close for comfort as he pulled the comforter over the two of you. "Goodnight, I love you. Thank you."

You kissed the top of his head and smiled slightly. "You're welcome, honey. I love you too"

[fanficshiddles]

The Redbridge Hunts, Chapter 8

Loki smirked to himself as he put on his coat to head to work, he ran his hand along the soft, dark pink scarf and he couldn’t resist burying his face into it, inhaling deeply before hanging it back up by the door.

He knew stealing Claire’s scarf had been wrong, but he just couldn’t resist. She clearly didn’t remember about it, since she never asked after it when she got her jacket on Friday night, so he thought there’d be no harm just holding onto it for now, plus he hoped it would help him adjust to her scent so he could control himself better around her.

When he got to the school, he skipped going to the teacher’s lounge that morning and went straight to his classroom to get ready for the week ahead, since he had a flask of hot tea in his bag. He found Claire in class already prepping, surprising yet delighting him.

‘Good morning, Claire. Great minds think alike.’ He smiled widely at her.

‘Morning, Loki. They sure do. How was your weekend?’ She asked with a bright smile.

‘Fine, thanks for asking, and yours?’

‘Very lazy. I need to get a hobby.’ Claire laughed.

Loki chuckled. ‘When you work hard during the week you're absolutely allowed to have lazy weekends.’

‘I like that excuse.’ She laughed. ‘How’s Bat doing?’

‘She’s great. She misses you already though, said your lap is very comfortable.’ Loki grinned at her.

‘You should bring her in with you, I bet the students would love her.’

‘Oh god no, she would never want to leave getting all the attention here. Plus, I’d never get the students to focus on their work.’

‘Never mind the students, you’d never get your assistant to focus.’ Claire teased, she then went to her bag and pulled out a smaller clear bag. ‘Here’s the trousers you lent me, plus your gloves. I forgot they were in my jacket pocket.’ She said sheepishly.

‘Ah, I did wonder where I’d put them.’ Loki smiled as he took the bag from her and opened it up.

‘I washed both, since the gloves were damp.’ Claire said quickly.

As Loki reached in and pulled out his gloves, not only could he smell lavender freshness on the gloves… he could also smell her.

Loki stiffened up straight away, eyes wide as saucers. He swiftly turned away from her and cleared his throat.

‘I’ll just go put these in my car, so I don’t forget them. After all, I’d lose my head if it wasn’t screwed on.’ Loki said quickly and darted out the door.

Loki didn’t even register David or Michael greeting him as he raced down the corridor, passing them by in a blur. When he reached the English classroom, he ducked inside and slammed the door shut.

‘Well, good morning to you too.’ Jessica frowned in confusion as Loki pulled his leather gloves out of the bag and shoved them into her face.

‘Do you smell that?!’

Jessica’s eyes widened and her nostrils flared instantly before Loki had even finished his sentence.

‘Of course I do!’ Her voice deepened a little, so Loki quickly pulled the gloves away from her and stashed them back in the bag as he narrowed his eyes at her.

‘Why would she do that?!’ He screeched.

Jessica put her hand over her mouth to try and stifle a laugh, especially noting Loki’s predicament in the trouser department… ‘Well… like you are right now, she was obviously aroused and had your gloves at hand to help her issue.’

Loki pulled his suit jacket further down to try and cover himself. ‘Yes, I get that part, thanks. Why would she do that though? It’s like she knows and is doing it to torture me intentionally.’ He growled.

‘I said she liked you the other night, maybe she really really likes you. And maybe has a leather glove kink.’ Jessica shrugged.

‘That’s a thing?’ Loki raised an eyebrow.

‘Oh yeah. Everything’s a thing nowadays. Plus, maybe she could smell you on them and it maybe turned her on too much. She certainly tried to erase the smell, that’s a lot of lavender wash.’ Jessica laughed.

‘Yes, but smells linger a long time for us, no matter how many washes. No human would be able to smell her scent on this.’

‘No shit Sherlock.’ Jessica stated. ‘I’ve been a vampire longer than you, remember. I don’t need to be told how our senses work.’

Loki rolled his eyes. ‘Anyway, so you’re saying you think she likes me too?’

‘I’d say so.’ Jessica nodded. ‘Even if she does just have a leather glove fetish, I doubt she would’ve used them to masturbate if she didn’t think of you in that kind of way.’

Loki’s entire face went red as he suddenly felt very overheated at the realisation sinking in that Claire had actually masturbated using his gloves.

‘What do I do now?’ Loki whined.

‘Well, definitely don’t pounce on her when you go back to the class room, if you can help yourself. Just play it cool, carry on as normal. See how things go, court her, woo her. Just don’t go straight for the jugular.’ Jessica said calmly.

Loki ran a hand through his hair. ‘You’re right. I don’t want to spook her. I still need to adjust to being around her and her smell, if anything happened too soon, I might not be able to control myself properly.’

‘Exactly. That’s the last thing you want to be doing.’ Jessica smiled sympathetically at him.

Loki took a few deep breaths then headed for the door. ‘Thanks, Jessica.’

‘No problem. Though you might need to sort that out before returning to her.’ Jessica’s eyes dropped to his crotch again.

Loki grumbled and shuffled awkwardly out of the room, leaving Jessica laughing. He went out to his car and put the bag in the boot. He pinched the bridge of his nose and took big deep breaths, he really had to try and calm down before returning to the classroom, especially now that students were beginning to make their way in.

‘Think disgusting thoughts, think disgusting thoughts.’ He mumbled to himself as he headed back inside, finally calming down enough to be presentable.

When he got back to his class, most of the students were already in. He panicked for a split second as he hadn’t prepared, but Claire had sorted everything for him so the class could start.

‘Thanks, darling.’ He whispered to her.

‘Is everything ok?’ Claire whispered back.

‘Everything is perfect.’ Loki grinned.

-

The following morning when Loki walked into the teacher’s lounge, the vampire teachers were the only ones there, but they all stopped talking as soon as Loki entered. All of them stared at him with smirks on their faces.

He raised an eyebrow and squinted at everyone. ‘What? Do I have something on my face?’ He wiped at the side of his mouth, thinking he maybe had some jam splattered on his face after breakfast.

‘Jessica was just telling us about your… issue, yesterday.’ Hannibal smirked.

Loki’s face dropped, he scowled at Jessica as he folded his arms over his chest. ‘Oh, she was, was she?’

‘Sorry, Loki. I had to tell them. It’s exciting, isn’t it? That your soulmate seems to like you too.’ Jessica said innocently.

Loki huffed and stomped across the room to get his tea.

‘The only problem with her having a leather glove kink, is that a lot of vampires tend to wear them.’ Matt hummed.

David smirked and opened his mouth to say something but Loki cut him off. ‘Don’t even think about it.’ He growled in warning, knowing it would be something lewd about his soulmate.

‘Have you heard? It seems there’s been a few young vampires trying their luck over the weekend, feeding off humans in broad daylight, not killing them but not giving them the endorphins either. The police think they’re crazy, think the two puncture marks on their necks are self-inflicted.’ Severus informed everyone.

‘I haven’t heard that on the news?’ Loki frowned.

‘Me neither, nor on social media.’ David said.

‘I have… sources. They’re really putting all of us at risk, if news gets out further than the city, we will be swamped with hunters after all of us again.’ Severus said worriedly.

‘I’m surprised the hunters have taken such a back seat, we used to have them constantly swarming around us. Though there’s not been any in the last year or so, just a small rise around this time of year after the traditional hunt, which is expected.’ Hannibal commented.

‘Perhaps, someone is looking out for us good vampires.’ Severus shrugged.

‘What do you mean good vampires?’ Matt asked.

‘All I’m saying is, since we’ve not been hassled by hunters as much, perhaps the hunters are now the hunted.’

David turned to look at Severus with an accusing eyebrow up. ‘Do you always have to be so bloody mysterious?’

‘Always.’ Severus confirmed seriously with a very slight smirk.

Loki shook his head, he knew there was no point trying to get more information out of Severus, if he wanted to share, he would. If not, then there would be absolutely no hope.

That afternoon when classes were over, Loki stayed behind to mark some work. Claire had offered to help, but he declined, saying she’d helped more than enough that day and deserved to go home and enjoy her evening. Which was true, she had taken over the lesson for a bit here and there, while Loki observed. She seemed to be a natural at teaching.

When he finished marking, he began making his way down the corridor, he stopped dead when he spotted Chris outside with two students. Loki recognised the students, they were twins, male and female, had been in Loki’s class last year and they turned sixteen just a couple of months ago. Though most importantly, they were vampires.

Loki stayed still and watched the interaction, the window was closed so he couldn’t make out what they were saying, but it didn’t look good.

Chris looked to be talking very animatedly to them, then he put his hands on their shoulders and looked to be reassuring them over something. The students looked at one another nervously, then nodded at Chris, who grinned widely and patted them both on the shoulder.

The students turned into bats and took off into the darkening sky. Chris watched them fly away, then he turned slowly and looked directly at Loki, a wicked grin spread across his face before he levitated up and onto the top of the school, out of Loki’s sight.

Loki snarled as he punched the wall, his fist went right through it with ease as if it had just been made of paper. He hissed a little, then stormed off down the corridor.

He knew that Chris had just been showing off at the end there, with his levitating. Only the original vampires could levitate, quite a distance and height too. Loki normally didn’t care, since turning into a bat to fly around was good enough for him, though it did irritate him when Chris flaunted his powers in public, there could still be human pupils around that could easily spot him.

When Loki got outside, he looked up to the roof but couldn’t see any sign of Chris. He wasn’t sure where the students were heading off to, either.

Chris often preyed upon vampire students once they were of age, to coax them into feeding from humans directly, to try and teach them the wrong ways to do so, that it was the more traditional way to do it his way, it was more fun. Chris would get them involved in the yearly hunts to get their adrenaline and natural instincts pumping hard, making out it was a right of passage into adulthood to hunt their first human and suck them dry.

Loki had a really bad feeling in his stomach as he made his way to his car.

Neither he nor Chris had noticed that a cloaked figure watched them from the tall building next to the school, crouched down and armed with a crossbow.

[missuga]

Last Week (11:31 p.m)  — Kuroo Tetsurou

+ college au, not edited | 1k

“You’ve reached-”

You had to stop yourself from rolling your eyes at the sound of the generic voicemail sounding through the phone for the third time, hanging up before you suffered through the rest of it this time.

‘call me anytime, i’ll answer

You could’ve sworn that’s what Kuroo told you after walking you back to your apartment just a week ago, but with each call, he didn’t answer you started to get worried that maybe he didn’t mean what he said. 

He’d put his number in your phone himself, so you knew it wasn’t your fault for mishearing him. You couldn’t stop yourself from thinking that maybe he was just ignoring you even though he didn’t seem like the type. He was so eager when you agreed to take his number.

“Screw it.” You sighed, slouching against the seat at the bar, fingers ghosting against the cold rim of your glass. 

No matter how hard you tried to scrub Kuroo’s name from your head it didn’t work though, the last time you were at this bar he was with you after all. The seat to your right felt even more empty than it did before he joined you.

You were half expecting him to be there when you walked in there, not bothering to ask one of your friends if they wanted to go out. You were regretting that now. 

“Want another?” 

You looked up at the bartender, contemplating for only a moment how long you’d stay here moping at the bar. 

“Sure,” You started, voice a bit quieter than you meant it to come out. “Might be my last though.” 

“Just let me know, there’s no rush we’re open all night.” She responded with a soft smile like she knew you’d been waiting for someone to show. 

She was right too, the thought of seeing his dopey smile again was the only thing that held you stuck in the hard barstool at the bar. 

The new drink sat on the bar in front of you for a minute before you even touched it, lost within your thoughts instead. 

You’d seen Kuroo in a couple of your classes before running into him at the bar. The few times the two of you fought to get the right answer out faster to your professor’s questions had you hooked already, there was something interesting in how he challenged you in class.

Last weekend was the first time you actually spoke to him though. 

The shared glances that seemed to last forever in class amounted to nothing compared to the conversations you had. From the first moment he wandered up to you at the bar you cursed yourself out for your heart beating faster than you thought it should.

“Oh, thank god.” 

It took you a long moment for your attention to break away from the bar top, eyes flicking to the person leaning against the bar next to you now, and for a moment you almost wondered just how strong the bartender had been making your drinks. 

“What are you doing here?” You asked, mouth slightly agape as you stared at the exact person you’d been thinking of for the past week, tone stuck between relief and a cold touch. 

Kuroo stared at you for a minute, and it was so hard to read his face. Your own feelings spilled over into what you thought you saw stirring in his eyes. 

“Why didn’t you answer me?” Your tone leaned more towards a cold distance now, “I called you three-”

“I think I gave you the wrong number.” He interrupted, and all you could do was blink a few times, trying to process what he said. 

“Huh?” 

“Last week I messed up the last two digits of my number,” He said once more, hand rubbing the back of his neck now and you could tell it took everything in him to keep looking at you. A soft hue of pink drifting across his cheeks now made your heart speed up just like the first time you met. “I’m sorry-”

“You’re kidding.” 

“Um.. what?” He asked, eyes wide now as if he was scared you were mad despite the way your shoulders sank in relief and how you leaned back against the bar stool. 

“I was really hoping something like this happened.” You said, the corner of your lips tugging into a soft smile at him. “You seemed pretty eager to talk to me last week, I thought it was weird you’d been ignoring my calls.” 

“For a couple days I thought you ghosted me too.” Kuroo laughed, finally taking a seat next to you. “You’re not mad? I know it was pretty stupid of me.” 

“Not at all, it’s kind of funny.” 

“You need something?” The bartender came up to you again, looking at him this time and he nodded quickly. “Your usual?” 

“You bet.” He answered quickly, smiling as the bartender left to make his drink. “So, can I give you my actual number now?”

“Let me call you right now actually so that I know you’ve got my number.” You slid your phone over for him to type it in, “I don’t want to call a random number a bunch of times again.”

Once the two of you finally had the right numbers, it felt as if a weight fell lifted your shoulders. 

“Do you want to go out tomorrow?” He asked after a couple sips of his drink, eyes locked onto you as he waited for an answer. “I wanted to ask you this week, but you know..”

“Yes, I’d love that.” You smiled, meeting his gaze for the first time. The burning creeping up the back of your neck was hard to ignore now, especially as his eyes lit up at your answer. “Don’t ignore me this time.” 

Your teasing only made his faint blush grow redder, but he nodded eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiled brightly. 

“I’ll never ignore you again if I can help it.”

[sequinsmile-x]

And So it Goes

A slow start to a work free weekend for Aaron and Emily

-x-

Hi friends

I am working on a Minimal Loss AU (that I think we all know is going to get away from me massively) but I thought we could all do with some pure, sweet, fluff on this dreary (where I am at least) Monday!

This is for my dear pal @hancydrewfan, who deserves all the good things. I hope this makes you smile <3

-x-

Words: 2k

Warnings: None. pure pure fluff

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

Emily wakes up slowly, her senses returning to her one by one as she becomes aware of her surroundings. She briefly opens her eyes, only to groan and close them again, the light of the room too bright for how sleepy she was still feeling.

She hears, and feels, his laugh from behind her. The rumble of it passing from his chest to hers as he pulls her even closer, his arm slung over her waist a relaxing weight, something she was quickly learning helped her sleep better than she had in years. Something deep in her subconscious telling her she was safe, that she could relax, just because he was there, pressed up against her as they slept. 

“Don’t laugh at me,” she grumbles, her eyes still screwed closed as she blindly turns in his embrace, pressing her face into his t-shirt covered chest and breathing him in. She sighs contently, relaxing further into his embrace as his hand sneaks under the t-shirt she was wearing, one she’d stolen from him, his palm warm against her skin as he skates it up and down her back.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” he replies, sounding anything but as he kisses her forehead, hauling her impossibly closer so she is all but lying on top of him, one of her legs hooked over his hip. 

“It’s ok,” she replies softly, “I’ll forgive you. It was nice not sleeping alone."

He chuckles again, “It’s nice to know I have my uses.” 

She hums in response, “What time is it?”

Aaron hides a smile in her hair at the way she slurs, her words all merging together, well aware that even in this half-awake state she could, and would, kill him if she thought he was making fun of her. There was something about her like this, first thing in the morning when she was extra clingy and more open, too sleepy to throw up the walls she would still occasionally use around him, that he found adorable. 

“Still early,” he says, kissing her forehead again, “It’s only just 7 a.m.” 

She groans again and pulls back to look at him, opening her bleary eyes, narrowing them when she meets his wide awake ones, a spark in them that she hadn’t known could exist before they became them.

“How are you so awake?” She grumbles and he smiles, cupping her cheek as he leans forward to taste her frown, the kiss enough to turn it into a smile by the time he pulls back.

“I’m an early riser,” he replies and she smiles, leaning in to kiss him again as she rocks her hips against his just once, laughing as he groans into the kiss.

“I can tell,” she quips, stamping her lips against his one more time before she settles back down, her cheek against his chest as she yawns, “It’s Saturday it should be a crime to be awake this early,” she cranes her neck to look up at him, “Can we stay like this just for a bit longer?"

He nods, his hand still trailing up and down her back, “We can stay here as long as you like,” he says, smiling at her as he tucks some stray hair behind her ear, “Or at least, until Jack comes in demanding pancakes.” 

She smiles, but it fades, familiar anxiety blooming in her chest, desperately trying to take root in the places Aaron had tended to so carefully the last few weeks. 

“You’re sure he won’t mind that I’m staying all weekend?” She asks softly, her teeth sinking into her lower lip, her tongue peeking out to taste the remnants of him after their kiss. 

This was by no means the first night she’d stayed over at the Hotchner household in the two months she and Aaron had been together. It was something she’d done even beforehand. Ever since her return from Paris, she’d been a frequent guest in their apartment. Wedged between Aaron and Jack as they ate together and watched movies, the two of them slowly helping her return to herself at her own pace. There were countless occasions when she would stay over. Nights when she’d argue with Aaron about her taking the couch after movie night had run on too long and he didn’t want her to drive home. Looking back on it, she knows they should have figured out this was where they were heading even then, both of them too scared and stubborn to make the first move, eventually pushed together by too close a call on a case.  

When they made the leap into their relationship, a rushed kiss hidden behind an ambulance at a crime scene that turned into a conversation that turned into this, one of her main priorities had been Jack. He’d been through so much in his young life, and she didn’t want to add to that. To make him anything other than happy. She knows she needn't have worried. 

He was delighted when they told him, yelling ‘finally’ in a way that seemed a little bit too much like Dave for her and Aaron’s liking, as he threw himself at them for a hug. She’d continued to make sure he was right at the centre of everything, and as much as she loved spending as much time as possible with him and Aaron she wanted to make sure she wasn’t overstepping at any point. 

It was their first full weekend off in weeks, with no threat of a case looming over their heads, so when Aaron asked if she wanted to spend the weekend with them, after her initial joy she hesitated. Worried she was taking away from precious father-son time. Aaron had told her it was fine, that he’d spoken to Jack about it first and he was delighted at the idea. The concern still lingered, something deep in her gut that kept telling her she had to do this right. 

She knew this was something she wanted to last forever, to be the foundation of the rest of her life, and she wanted to make sure it was built on solid ground. That there was nothing that could shake them, nothing that could make it all crumble down around her. 

Her concern for Jack made Aaron love her even more, something he hadn’t thought was possible. He simply smiles, pulling her in for a kiss before he replies.

“Em, it’s all he’s spoken about all week,” he assures her, kissing her again, “I’d say he loves you more than I do,” his smile widens, his dimples peeking out in a way that makes her stomach flip, “But that’s not possible.” 

She bites the inside of her cheek in an attempt, that immediately fails, to try and contain her smile. She reaches up and pushes some of his hair from his forehead, her smile only widening further, her fact aching with it, when it flops back down. She cups his cheek, her thumb pressing into his dimple, and she pulls him in for a kiss, groaning when he pulls her closer, his palm firm against her back. 

“I love you,” she mumbles against his lips, pulling back just enough to speak before she kisses him again, “So fucking much.” 

“I love you too sweetheart,” he replies, stamping a kiss to her lips and then the tip of her nose, repeating the action when she scrunches her face up at him. He wants to show her how much he loves her, to take his time like he had the night before, but he hears the familiar click of Jack’s door, followed by his fast footfall in the hallway, “Incoming.” 

Emily chuckles and pulls back from Aaron, both of them sitting up and resting against the headboard, Aaron’s arm slung over her shoulders, just in time before the door swings open.

“Morning!” Jack says, his smile wide and his hair a mess, the young boy clearly as much of a morning person as his father. 

“Jack,” Aaron says fondly, his voice soft, “Remember our conversation about knocking on the door?” 

The six-year-old’s eyes go comically wide, something that forces Emily to hide her smile in Aaron’s shoulder, and he backs out of the room. It was a rule Aaron was slowly trying to introduce. Jack could come in if the door was open, but had to knock if it was closed. The only exception was if it was the middle of the night and he’d had a nightmare.

It was something Aaron was implementing due to a close call a few weeks ago when Jack had almost walked in on them first thing in the morning. Aaron’s hand making its way into Emily’s shorts as Jack pushed the closed door open with little fanfare as he enquired about breakfast, seemingly unaware that his dad and his girlfriend had burst apart from each other like they were on fire. . 

“Sorry, Daddy!” He says, pulling the door closed again, and there is a beat of silence before they hear a loud knock.

“You’re mean,” Emily mutters, her smile in direct conflict with her words.

“He needs to learn to be polite,” Aaron replies quietly, before turning to the door, “Come in buddy.” 

“He’s a mini you, he’s the most polite kid I’ve ever met,” she replies so only he can hear, and he squeezes her shoulder. 

“Morning!” Jack says again before climbing onto the bed, wedging himself between the two of them, his head against Emily’s shoulder. 

“Morning, sweetie,” she says, kissing his forehead, “Did you sleep okay?” 

He nods, “It took ages to fall asleep because I was so excited about you being here all weekend,” he says quickly, his enthusiasm clear, “Daddy said we can go to the museum with the dinosaurs.” 

Emily chuckles and pulls the little boy closer, the last remaining anxiety in her chest easing, “He also said something to me about pancakes.” 

Jack gasps and turns to look at his father, “Pancakes?” 

Aaron shakes his head lovingly at the sight of them together, their grins wide as they stare at him, and he leans forward, stamping a kiss against his son’s forehead and then Emily’s lips.

“I’ll go make breakfast, you two stay here,” he says kissing Emily once more before he climbs out of bed and she nods, pulling Jack further into her arms, “We can have breakfast in bed.” 

“Breakfast in bed?” She says, winking at him as he looks back at her from the doorway, “Maybe I should spend the weekend more often.”

He winks back at her and leaves the room, whistling to himself as he leaves. 

“Emily?”

She looks down at Jack, giving him her full attention as he turns to look at her, his hand reaching to play with her hair, his little fingers tangling in the loose locks. 

“Yes, sweet boy?” She replies, smiling softly at him, wishing that this was always her reality, but aware that she’d only been with Aaron for eight weeks. That they had to take everything at the right pace. 

“I wish you were here all the time,” he says, resting his head back against her shoulder. It makes her heart swell, the combination of his words and his closeness, the way he obviously trusted her so deeply, enough to make her eyes shine with tears she won’t shed. 

“Oh yeah?” She asks, kissing his forehead, “Why is that?” 

“You make Daddy happy,” he replies, saying it as if it was nothing, as if it didn’t mean everything to her, “And you make me happy too.” 

She holds him a little tighter, taking a moment to soak it all in, thoughts of why she was putting off living with them overtaking anything more rational. It may have only been a couple of months, but she knew this was it for her, and Aaron had told her the same. They’d already wasted so much time pretending they weren’t in love with each other, so why should they waste any more now they’d admitted it. 

“Really?” She asks, not missing how her voice shakes a little. 

“Really,” he confirms, pulling back to look at her, before shrugging like only a small child could, “But also Daddy doesn’t usually let me eat in bed so that’s fun.” 

She laughs, loudly in a way she knows Aaron will have heard in the kitchen and she nods, “Well, in that case, I’ll just have to stay much more often, won’t I?” 

Jack’s response is a nod, and it’s all she needs. 

-x-

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[tailoredshirt]

FIC: As long as it’s with you (TK/Carlos, PG-13)

TK just wanted their first Valentine’s Day as a married couple to be special.

Unfortunately they spend it in the ER.

1.3k // PG-13 // AO3

Written for @strandbuckley for the @tarlosweeklyprompts Valentine’s Day Fic Exchange! I hope you like it. <3 Thank you to @finetune for all of her assistance and hand holding.

—

“All right,” Dana said, removing the tourniquet from TK’s finger. “Keep your hand in the air and apply pressure to the wound…just like that.” She gave TK a wry smile. “It’s almost like you’ve done this before.”

TK laughed. “Yeah, although I think I like it better when I’m not the one losing a finger.”

“Stop being dramatic,” she said, tossing a bandage wrapper into the garbage. “It’s not the whole finger.”

TK looked up at his hand, which he was still holding up in the air. “Still managed to ruin my night.”

Dana rolled backwards in her chair to put back a roll of tape, then rolled back to TK. “Big plans?”

“No. Yes.” He glanced at his phone, where he and Carlos smiled up at him, dressed in their tuxes. “First Valentine’s Day since my husband and I got married.”

“Pic?” Dana asked. Her eyebrows went up when TK showed her the lockscreen on his phone. “Nice.”

“Right?” TK said, setting the phone back down. “But he drew the short straw and had to work this year, so I thought I would make dinner. You know, surprise him when he got home.” He sighed. “This was not the surprise I had in mind.”

“Well, if it helps, you’re not the only mandolin accident of the evening.” Dana checked on TK’s hand and seemed satisfied that he was doing a good job of keeping pressure on the wound. “Hang tight. I’m going to get your discharge paperwork.”

“Thanks.”

TK leaned back against the wall and looked down at his phone. His dad had texted him, asking how dinner had turned out. The last thing TK had texted him was a picture of a small pile of fresh vegetables he had picked out at the farmer's market. He'd been so excited that afternoon, sending Carlos 'sorry you're stuck at work babe :( we'll celebrate this weekend' texts while picking out fresh scallops and a bottle of non-alcoholic champagne.

Not great, he told his dad. His thumbs hovered over the keyboard as he tried to decide how much to tell him. Should've stuck with pasta.

Suddenly the door opened, and Carlos popped his head in, his eyes big with worry behind his glasses. “Hey.”

TK sat up straighter in his chair. “Hi, baby.”

Carlos sat down next to him, smelling very faintly of the light cologne he wore to work. He took the arm TK was holding up to inspect the bandaged finger. "What'd they say?"

TK shrugged. "It'll heal but it'll take a few weeks. I’ll just have to change the bandage."

Carlos nodded. “Why are you holding your hand up like this?”

“To make sure it stops bleeding.”

Carlos looked stricken, and TK grabbed his other hand. “Hey, it’s fine. I probably could have treated it at home—”

“No,” Carlos said firmly.

“—but I knew you’d want me to get it checked out,” TK said, smiling softly.

Carlos still looked unhappy, but his posture relaxed. He continued to hold TK's hand up for him. "What were you doing with the mandolin anyway? You never use it."

TK sighed. "I was trying to cook dinner. For Valentine's," he added unnecessarily.

Carlos blinked at him. "For me?"

"No, for my other husband. Yes, you."

Carlos still looked confused. "Oh. That's..."

"I know, I should’ve just waited for the weekend so we could go somewhere nice.” The embarrassment was setting in. Not only had he screwed up making a meal that Carlos could have prepared in his sleep, but after a long day at work Carlos had to come sit with him in the emergency room. “Sorry,” he muttered.

“What were you making?” Carlos asked him.

“Seared scallops with rainbow carrots and zucchini.” He wasn’t even sure if they went well with scallops. He just thought they looked cool. “With a citrus glaze.”

“I love scallops,” said Carlos.

“I know. I’ve been watching this lady on Instagram, and…” He didn’t want to admit that her schick was impressive-looking meals in 30 minutes or less. “They looked good. I put the scallops in the fridge so you can make them later.”

Carlos’s thumb gently stroked the inside of TK's wrist. “We can make them later. Together.”

His husband was so sweet. TK didn’t deserve him. “They’d probably taste better if you made them.”

“But then I wouldn’t get to cook Valentine’s Day dinner with my husband.”

Carlos, still holding TK’s injured arm at the elbow, put an arm around him. TK sighed and leaned his head onto Carlos’s shoulder. They both stared at the mess of tape and bandages on TK’s finger.

“Sorry I ruined our first Valentine’s Day,” TK said quietly.

“You didn’t ruin anything.”

“I kinda did though,” TK said, moving his injured hand for emphasis. Carlos brought TK’s hand to his face so he could kiss his palm. Then he placed a very soft kiss on the bandage covering TK’s finger.

TK huffed. “Gross,” he whispered into Carlos’s shoulder.

Carlos looked down at him, and they sat in silence for a moment, watching each other. TK felt Carlos’s fingers stroking the base of his neck.

“How was your day?” TK asked him.

“Fine.”

“Did you—”

The door opened. “Okay, got your discharge paperwork,” Dana said, closing the door behind her. “Hello.”

“Hi,” Carlos said, nodding politely.

“Also have your tegaderms,” she said, tossing a bag of bandages onto the table. “Unfortunately they were out of Scooby Doo, so you’ll have to settle for the plain ones.”

“Bummer.”

Dana went over discharge instructions with both of them. She gave TK a plastic finger protector and helped him into the sling.

“Tyler Kennedy—you know, it never even occurred to me to wonder what that stood for until now?” Dana said, snapping off her gloves as TK sighed. “Anyway, Tyler Kennedy Strand-Reyes, I now pronounce you…not my worst patient of the evening.”

TK held his good hand to his chest. “Thank you, Dana. I’m honored.”

“Keep him away from cooking utensils?” Dana told Carlos. “Or at least the sharp ones?”

“I’ll try,” Carlos promised.

“Won’t be a problem,” TK assured her.

As they made their way through the parking lot towards the Camaro, holding hands, Carlos asked, “So are you on a first name basis with all of the nurses?”

“Just the ER nurses.”

“And which coma does Dana know you from? Or did you meet her after the concussion?”

TK rolled his eyes. “You know that I’m EMS, right?”

“Mmhmm.”

“That stands for Emergency Medical Services. That means we make a lot of trips to emergency rooms, especially this one.”

Carlos stopped as they reached the car. “Hey.”

“Hmm?”

Carlos leaned forward to press a soft kiss to TK’s mouth. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“And it doesn’t matter what happens on Valentine’s Day,” Carlos told him, cupping TK’s cheek, “as long as I get to spend it with you.”

TK smiled and leaned back against the car, pulling Carlos with him. “So you’re saying you’ll spend every Valentine’s Day in the ER with me?”

“No, I am not saying that.”

TK kissed him, slipping just enough tongue in so Carlos would know that it was a promise for later. “There’s still two hours left, and I know how we can spend them.”

Carlos raised his eyebrows. “You know your arm is in a sling, right?”

“My mouth still works.”

Carlos shook his head, but he was smiling. “Come on, babe. Let’s go home.”

[bepisbee]

More vidow fluff :3

Happy Birthday!

Read on ao3

When the resident arsonist was told his boyfriend would be supplying him with bath bombs, he did not think he meant a bath. In all fairness, they have blown shit up together before. In a controlled environment. Usually.

Today was Shadow’s 20th birthday! He even got to sleep over at Vio’s house. Despite his brother’s protests, they had a great night. The two had ended up trying to Netflix and chill. They both fell asleep watching shameless sometime around three or four in the morning, without the cliche “chill” part. It was honestly okay with both of them.

Shadow was just excited to have a few days off from work and school. He was lucky it landed on a holiday weekend, no classes because teachers got paid time off and he scheduled paid vacation for himself from the cafe. He didn't necessarily need to work having a scholarship but he liked buying things. Shadow shook himself out of his thoughts. Vio had left him a note to find his present in here while he cooked. Shadow wondered if he should make sure Vio didn’t light the kitchen on fire without him, but the bath smelled really good.

There was clearly already scented oil or salts in the steaming water. A small brown paper bag with a note on it screamed open me! So he did. Inside was a chalky ball that smelled like citrus.

He rolled it into the hot water and watched it fizz out and break apart. Coloring the water a shimmering orange with gold flecks. Alright, maybe this was a little better than early morning explosives. He wouldn’t admit that out loud though. Shadow derobed and stepped into the over warm water. A bit too hot to be comfortable for a Hylian was perfect for him.

Vio always thought it had to do with spending so much time in the hot arid regions of their world. Swirling the water with a finger and watching the glimmer, he let himself drift in thoughts. He even slid under for a short period, letting the water soak into his face and hair. He wondered if the glitter would stick to it. An involuntary smile lifted his lips upwards as it reminded him of a rant Vio went on once about non degrading glitter.

“-adow?” Oh that was actual Vio! He opened his eyes to his favorite sight. Vio. And hot chocolate.

“Good morning,” he purred.

“Good morning.” Vio was still in pajamas. Excellent. That meant his plans for today involved staying in. With the scented heat melting away his knots and aches, that was sounding better and better. “Happy birthday,” Vio leaned over the porcelain edge to give him a proper greeting. “I see you got your first present.”

“First?” Shadow quirked a brow. “There’s moooooore?~” he sat upright, taking the hot mug carefully with both hands.

“The whole day.”

“You got out of your shift??” Shadow’s ears twitched up. Getting out of a nurse shift was very difficult.

“I owe someone one, but yes. Nothing to worry about though.” Vio gave another kiss, this one to his water coated forehead. “Enjoy your bath, I’ll be reading so don’t worry about taking too long. The water’s enchanted to keep warm so,”

“Thank you darlin’” Shadow sipped the drink, relaxing back against the tub.

“I promise not to tell anyone you’re a giant softie!” He called back over his shoulder before shutting the door.

“Hey!” Shadow laughed. “Better not. I have a reputation to uphold.”

Vio pulled the tarts out of the oven. He had no idea if this would turn out okay or not, but he trusted Zelda. Thankfully she knew him well, and wrote the directions very specifically. From how to layer the buttery crusts to the filling. He hoped using the dark world fruit equivalent wouldn’t screw up any dry to wet ratios. Apparently that was very important. It was a richer flavor than their world’s peaches. Some type of purple peach plum mix that dripped with juice. It was his favorite, and it was pretty rare to get the heathen to eat any kind of fruit or vegetable.

Vio quickly covered the treats as he heard Shadow closing their bedroom door. No need to ruin the surprise. He came out stretching his arms long above his head with a groan. It didn’t take long to hear and little pops of his spine.

“Mmmm ahh there it goes.”

“You know I could do that for you,” he has offered it before. He studied for chiropractic care before he settled on being a head registered nurse. “Even that twisty one that pops your lower back.” Vio offered as he joined his boyfriend. Shadow claimed one of their wood stools by the overhang that made the bar.

“Maybe later.”

“You always say that,” he teased.

“I always mean it.” Shadow took a piece of toast from the plate.

“Haha don’t talk with your mouth full, rude ass.” Vio playfully swatted his arm for the crumbs falling out.

“Oh no.” He over exaggerated it now just to annoy him. “Whatever shall become of the floor I think it might be destroyed forever.”

“Gross!” Vio pushed his face away with a hand. “C’mon.” they laughed, Shadow coughing a little as he inhaled crumbs. “Dumbass.”

“Your dumbass~”

“Yeah, yeah.”

After breakfast they spent the day watching drama shows and eating take out. Vio did in fact convince Shadow to let him realign his spine. Vio had always worked with his hands. Just enough strong pressure on the right spots did absolute wonders. Years of archery and competing with Blue did wonders for his upper body strength. You couldn’t tell just by looking, though.

“Alright, you’re all rice Krispied. “ Vio smirked. Shadow lay face down into a soft pillow, shaped and colored like a loaf of bread.

“Snap crackle pop. Heheh.” he was about to get up, when Vio placed two hands on his shoulders, bringing him back down. “Hmm?”

He traced skilled thumbs in circles across his shoulder pads and downwards. Now he got it. “Ahh. I see, carry on. No funny business~”

He carried on. Despite Shadows tease did not do any funny business. Aside from spending maybe a little too much time on his thighs and rear end. “A nerve that runs down there to his leg” Vio claimed.

“Suuuure.” Not that Shadow was complaining.

Maybe holiday birthdays weren’t so bad after all. He could get used to this.

Shadow didn't bother putting his shirt back on. He was too comfortable now. While Vio was out of the room he snuck over to the foil covered pan in the kitchen. The second he lifted up the top he could feel the stare boring into his back.

“I didn't see anything!” He dropped it and jumped back.

“Spoiler.” Vio scolded. Arms folded. “Well you might as well, I know how hard it was for you to hold back until now, you sweet tooth demon.”

Shadow beamed and gleefully tore the foil off the top. They were still warm..lining the tray were several puffed up and browned pastries. They look almost like croissants, in rectangles with slits in the middle of them. Dark purple chunks of fruit and filling poked out enticingly.

“No fucking way.” His grin turned large and toothy. “Are those what I think they are??”

“Try one and find out,” Vio hopped himself up to sit on the counter top. He had a great poker face. He honestly had no idea if they were any good.

Shadow grabbed one carefully, the pastry was flakey and still warm. He inspected it just to make the other nervous. He took a huge bite. Vio laughed at the way his eyes literally lit up. Shadow just nodded and ate the other half in full.

“What- you're gonna choke.” Vio sighed and wiped the crumbs off his lip with his thumb. Shadow spitefully licked it. “Ewugh!” He pulled his hand back.

“How did that gross you out?? I've licked way worse than your thumb darlin’.”

“Shut up. Fuck.” Vio rubbed his face, which turned red immediately. “That's so gross why would you say that.”

Shadow snorted. “You don’t think it's gross when it's happening. Weirdo.” He flicked his forehead and grabbed another treat. “These are amazing.” Even though the bottoms were a smidge burnt. Oops. Vio huffed and crossed his arms in embarrassed indignation. Shadow’s face melted into soft affection. “Thank you.” He kissed Vio softly.

“Yeah, yeah whatever birthday boy.”

[somekndofnature]

WIP Weekends!!!!

Hey everyone! I'm back after a very long hiatus, but in my defense I have been consumed by writing this story. That being said, I felt my motivation waning and thought it might help to get some feedback.

This is from a modern Inu/Kag AU that I have been working on. It is the story of a miserable puppy who screwed up pretty bad when he found out that his band's new manager was his fated mate. Resenting destiny and it's cruel sense of timing, Inuyasha tries his hardest to push Kagome away in every way possible. He takes advantage of her kindness and realizes too late that he is head over heels in love with her before he chased her away.

Now, six years later he is doing everything possible to win her back. Kagome comes to his home in Vegas, hoping to reconnect with her old friend Sango but shocked to find the whole band waiting for her. Inuyasha is ready to start a new album and needs her help, but she is less than eager to jump back into a partnership with them. After a very tense and public argument, Kagome leaves with Sango and promise to make a decision after listening to the music.

Inuyasha feels slighted and decides that the best way to get her undivided attention is to follow Kagome home to LA... on the same flight. Not creepy at right?

This picks up after the plane lands. Kagome has fallen asleep on Inuyasha's arm after they talked out a few things on the trip. In her half-conscious state, she doesn't realize when or where she is and makes a few off hand comments that, while true, still hurt Inuyasha's feelings.

Sooooo... whew! That was a very long summary. Thanks for sticking with me, but I think that's enough context, for now. Please let me know what you think. This story has been so self-indulgent; it would be nice to know if someone liked it as much as I do.

HERE WITH YOU

Kagome felt a gentle shake to her knee and grumbled, nuzzling deeper into the warmth at her side.

“C’mon, baby,” Inuyasha’s deep voice rumbled before soft lips brushed her cheek. “You gotta get up.”

She groaned and squeezed her eyes tighter, unwilling to break from the pull of slumber. She was comfortable dammit, and she could feel by the heaviness of her body that she hadn’t slept long enough.

Why did he always do this?! Every damn time!

In the afterglow of their love making, when her muscles were liquid and sleep started calling for her, Inuyasha would rouse her and send her on her way before morning. It hurt. She just wanted to fall asleep next to him and pretend for just a moment that they were a real couple—not whatever this was.

“’Gome,” he prompted again with another shake to her knee.

“Oh, come on,” she whined. “Why do I always gotta go? None of the other girls leave before sunrise.”

She felt him stiffen beside her and braced for his cutting response. Instead, he released a soft whine, nuzzling his nose against hers.

“Baby, there are no other girls,” he whispered, voice tight. “And I swear, I’ll never let you leave before sunrise again,but you need to wake up; we’re here.”

The entire morning came back to Kagome in a rush. She sat straight up in her seat, blinking at the plane and it’s slowly deboarding passengers. She was home, in LA, with Inuyasha. Her eyes snapped up to meet his golden gaze; he looked so sad and resigned.

Her half-conscious words surfaced in her mind as her cheeks grew hot. “S-sorry, I didn’t mean that.”

“Well, I did,” he replied, flicking open his seatbelt and moving to stand.

Impending tears pricked at her eyes as she lurched forward and grabbed his arm. “Wait! Inu, please don’t be mad.”

He turned back to her with brows furrowed, grasping her chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Don’t worry about me being mad, okay? I’m not; I’m just grabbing your suitcase.” He leaned down and planted a swift kiss to her lips before moving into the aisle.

Kagome sat back in her chair and pushed a hand through her bangs, still so disoriented from sleep that she forgot to chastise him for the overly familiar action. She couldn’t drum up her earlier resentment anyway. It was difficult when he was being so sweet and attentive.

She gathered up her purse from the floor, hiked it onto her shoulder, and scooted towards the aisle, reaching to take her suitcase from Inuyasha’s hands. She frowned when he didn’t pass it to her and instead stooped down to grab his duffle.

He turned towards her with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Ready?”

“I can carry that,” she replied while motioning to her bag.

Inuyasha shook his head. “I got it. C’mon.”

He made a space for her in front of him and allowed her into line. They filed out behind other passengers.

“Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.”

They scooted forward a few inches at a time, ignoring the accidental jostles they received in the process.

Someone still in their chair mumbled something as they passed.

Inuyasha snarled from behind her, “Shut up and mind your own damn business.”

“What did he say?” Kagome asked, looking over her shoulder as they trudged forward.

He scowled. “Nothin’, just another asshole tryin’ to be funny. On this flight they’re a dime a dozen, apparently.”

She shook her head and giggled at the slight dusting of pink across his nose when Inuyasha’s eyes widened. He dropped his bag and reached forward to wrap hand around her arm, pulling her back against his chest and saving her from face-planting into a suitcase wheel.

Kagome was shell-shocked for a moment before warm breath tickled the hair against her ear.

“Careful, baby. Eyes forward,” Inuyasha whispered before releasing her and grabbing his duffle once again.

She nodded and waved off the apology from the man in front of her while trying to steady her fluttering heart. She had never received this kind of attention from him before and it was throwing her off. Every ounce of his focus seemed attuned to her; she could even feel his aura enveloping her like a protective blanket. It was overwhelming.

She slid forward when the line started to move, fanning her flaming face; it didn’t help. Kagome rose on tiptoe and glanced to the front door. Only a little longer and she could take a free breath without him towering behind her and saturating every molecule of air with his delicious sandalwood scent. It was making her head swim.

“Anxious to get away?” Inuyasha purred into her ear.

Kagome tripped over her feet, bumping the person in front of her. They tossed a glare over their shoulder. She mumbled an apology as they neared the cockpit and blessedly the front door. She could hear the cheery voices of the flight attendants just a few people ahead of her.

Inuyasha leaned closer and whispered, “Breathe, ‘Gome.”

“I’m trying,” Kagome hissed, glaring over her shoulder. “It’s not my fault you smell so damn g—”

“Thank you for flying with us today,” one of those cheery voices interrupted.

All the color drained from her face as she whipped around and stumbled over a ‘thank you’, rushing out the door and into the open air. Kagome took a deep breath and almost choked on the scent of exhaust. As long as it wasn’t ‘throw your underwear at me’ sandalwood, she was fine.

She turned to face the no doubt mocking expression of her companion, but Inuyasha didn’t react beyond setting her suitcase on the floor and rolling it it behind him up the ramp.

Kagome blinked. Was he just going to ignore all that?

She caught up to his side and glanced at his face. As she stared a corner of his mouth began to twitch upwards.

Kagome frowned and waved a hand at him. “Go on. Laugh it up.”

“What?” he replied with a chuckle. “You nearly hyperventilated because I smell so damn good. What’s funny about that?”

“You don’t know that I was going to say good,” she snapped.

Inuyasha tossed her a smug smile. “You’re right; you were probably gonna say great.”

“Or gross,” she grumbled, stomping ahead of him towards the terminal.

She turned around just inside to give him a piece of her mind but lost her ire as she looked him over. Although he was laughing, the mirth didn’t reach his eyes and even his ears were hanging lower than normal.

Kagome’s gaze found the white toes of her Chucks, wrapping her hands around her purse strap. Some matching shoes in red invaded her line of vision.

“Hey,” he said, giving her arm a nudge. “What’s wrong? I was just teasin’.”

“It’s not that,” she said, peeking up at him through her bangs. “I was just wondering, do you have somewhere to stay tonight?”

“Not really,” he replied with a shrug, but his ears perked. “Figured I would deal with that once we landed.”

Kagome cleared her throat and looked away, squeezing the leather between her hands. “Well, you can stay with me, if you want. I don’t have an extra bedroom, but I have a couch that’s pretty—”

Inuyasha reached forward and tilted her head up until she saw his sparkling golden eyes. “That sounds perfect,” he purred, rubbing his thumb along her bottom lip.

She was momentarily stunned but managed a nod.

“Was it gorgeous?” he asked with a fangy grin that lit up his whole face.

Kagome’s brow knit, not understanding his meaning until the light finally dawned. “No, it was grody!” she shouted while whipping around and storming off.

“Nah,” he replied, following a step behind. “It was probably glorious.”

“It was grimy!”

“How about grand?”

“How about gag me!”

Inuyasha stumbled and coughed before Kagome registered what had flown past her lips. She slapped a hand over her mouth in horror.

He shook the dazed look away from his face and smirked. “If you insist, baby.”

Kagome flushed. “I didn’t mean it like that!”

Inuyasha laughed and leaned down to press a kiss to her cheek. “You’re cute when you’re flustered.”

“S-stop it,” she stuttered.

His brow furrowed, turning serious. “Maybe it was a phrase instead. Something like ‘good enough to eat’.”

“Ugh,” she groaned and turned on her heel, stomping away at a good clip. “Will you drop it already? Geez, you’re like a d—" Kagome sputtered out a laugh mid-sentence.

“What?” Inuyasha asked from behind her. “What is it?”

She turned around to see him staring at her like a very curious dog, head tilted to the side and ears perked to her amusement. Kagome doubled over, giggling until there were tears in her eyes.

“’Gome, people are starting to stare like you’ve gone nuts,” he whispered. “What the hell is so funny?”

Her laughter petered out to a slight chuckle as she shook her head. “Nothing, it’s just in your nature, I guess.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

She offered him a coy smile and stepped forward, taking her suitcase handle from his hand. Inuyasha huffed in protest but was soothed by the way she intertwined their fingers.

“C’mon, Puppy,” Kagome purred while pulling him to the doors. “Now we just need to figure out where I parked.”

“You didn’t take a picture of your spot?” he groaned.

She laughed. “Do I ever?”

[bvannn]

Weekly Update January 26, 2024

I am still very sick. I just took my second increased dose of the medicine, hoping it will help. Whatever stomach issue I was having a bit ago appears to have returned as well, or it could be more side effects from the surgery. Or something else. I don’t know. I tried fasting on Wednesday and felt physically better but also guilty, and I don’t want to keep doing it because I know it’s dangerous. I’m still a healthy weight for my height so I can probably get away with doing it like, once a week, but I don’t want to accidentally lose too much weight either because I’m already a 22 year old adult who buys clothes in the kids section I don’t need to be any smaller. I’ll figure it out, I’m trying to focus what I am eating on fruits and nuts, hoping it’ll detox me a bit.

I did a couple drawings this week. Kinda. The one I posted was actually sketched back before the surgery I just hadn’t digitized it yet. I only posted the one drawing because I want to hold on to the other for a bit because it’s part of that epithet prompt set I made. I’m fully not expecting to do every one of those prompts, but I figured hey since I missed a few I can do a batch of the missed prompts and release them at once. I sketched the one for this week and planned on finishing it on Wednesday but I got sick again. Once I’m feeling better I’ll try to focus more on drawings. I think I gotta scrap the big animation project I was working on due to circumstances beyond my control, which sucks but theoretically I can try other animation things too. I’ve been sitting on an idea for a short Detective Conan animation, maybe I’ll do that. Or maybe I’ll stay sick. Idk. I kinda want to figure out how I would animate Shaun, since he’s a ghost so I’d have to deal with both transparency and glow effects, plus certain aspects of his design that were meant to be more flowy, like his shirt-tail-thing. I could poke after effects again but it seems a lot more tedious than I had hoped.

I did review over comic stuff this week too, although I haven’t made any progress since I really started getting the surgery after effects. I like how it’s flowing for the most part, but I’m probably going to have to do second drafts of a few pages. Kinda sucks that everything feels so rushed, since I want to fit the whole introductory chapter into ~32 pages, which I’m totally able to do but I have to hold off on some little dialogue exposition conversations that I think people would like. Any story with ghosts is going to have people wanting to fully understand how the ghosts physically work, especially when it becomes relevant, but some of that can be put off until later because character moments are more important. Whatever, I can always keep going.

I feel super bad about not being able to do anything but I’m still so screwed up. I want to take another stab at music, and maybe I will, but I need to sit upright to play piano which screws with my stomach, and in order to pick out VSTs I want on a song I need to be able to have a midi that resembles what the final will sound like and I need to be in the headspace to listen to music without going into sensory overload. I’m pretty sure all of this is sleep related, I have the weekend to hopefully catch up on sleep, but I need to do some homework as well. And I need to stop waking up in the middle of the night. I’m afraid to double dose on sleep medicine because even though I know it’s safe after 6 or so hours, I don’t want to be reliant on sleep medicine because that’s how Michael Jackson died. Might have to wait for my surgery bs to subside before I can try to detox though.

I don’t know what to do with myself right now. I feel awful, I feel like my insides are rotting, but I know they’re not since I’m not in pain from it (or at least not enough pain to really believe that). Plus surgeon looked at me before I moved back to Uni and seemed really impressed with how quickly I was healing. Even though I probably disobeyed her ‘don’t lift more than 20 pounds’ rule. Like a lot. I did feel better this week than I did last, so I’m hoping I can bounce back pretty quick. I’ll give it another week or two before I ask my primary if I need another medicine. I’m hesitant right now because both she and the surgeon seemed to agree beforehand that I wouldn’t, and I want to trust them. I don’t know. Time providing I’ll try to do more drawings this week.

[jodilin65]

TUESDAY, OCTOBER 31, 1995 Switched the EC from vent to cool. Tom just went to the racetrack. His parents won’t be there cuz his dad’s really sick, but David will more than likely be there.

This weekend has been going great. Just fantastic. Yesterday after we screwed, I was thinking, yup, that woman was right. I’ll never have a child if that means making him happy. That’s still OK with me, but still too bad in a way. I still do firmly believe this, but I’ve learned something new about Tom that was hard for me to not only learn but to do when we slept in separate rooms. He’s definitely not kidding when he told me that the best time for him to screw is when he first gets up. That way his body’s relaxed, yet revived. We screwed again this morning and if I said that he was faking being as close as he was, I’d definitely be lying. That was certainly no act on his part. I don’t know how I can tell, but I just can.

If only things can stay this good! Oh, I hope they do! I’m gonna do everything in my power to see that they do. Not only is the sex improving little by little, just when I didn’t think it was going to and the frequency of it is going up, but there’s something else that’s improved. He says he has me to thank for it.

I also called my mother who says she’s gotten to the point where she doesn’t think about smoking. I don’t know if that’s the truth, but I’m still so envious, cuz whether or not she thinks of it or not, she wouldn’t lie about it being just about a month that she hasn’t smoked. God, I wish I could do that!

Yesterday we checked AOL to see if there was an updated list of Norah’s movies. There was no additional information about her and we couldn’t find where to send any letters.

This morning Tom and I filmed me fingerspelling the alphabet for him to learn it.

Oh, I forgot to write about what he said he has me to thank for. Well, you know I’ve said that he says he’s gonna do all kinds of things that he just never gets around to doing or does them much much later than he said he would. Not lately. He’s really been making a move on things. He did some serious back room work and he cleared off my drawing table. I also didn’t think he was gonna get around to the fingerspelling so soon. He says that the reason why he has me to thank for it is cuz of the idea I had to try the Slim-Fast stuff. He’s been on it and he says it really makes him feel so much more motivated and energetic. Well, I’m glad he got the idea and I hope it continues to work for him.

Later…

I just watched Little House on the Prairie and before that, I made some fried chicken wings.

I know there’s something else we did yesterday that I’m forgetting to write about, but I can’t think of what it is.

Both my forearms are sore today from trimming the bushes that are right behind the clothesline. I don’t mind hanging clothes out and all and it gives me more to do. However, the bushes were overgrown and in the way before. Especially when I’d hang out sheets. Tom trimmed the bushes out front.

I don’t know if this is what I was forgetting to mention, but we discussed having a tag sale in 2 or 3 weeks. We’d sell mainly old ancient computer stuff. Plus, my old microwave.

Later…

Andy just said that it was definitely still over with Pam, although he’d have liked to have been able to work it out. Well, that happens, even though that’s life and there’s only so much he can do about it. I didn’t want the shit that happened to happen with Donna, Rosemarie, Ellie, that butch and Stacey over at the Vista Ventana, but shit happens. When people do shit to you, there’s only so much you can do on your part. The rest has to be up to them, cuz it takes two to be friends as well as lovers. I’m just very grateful that Tom and I can work out our differences and I know I won’t always feel bad about him not wanting a child. It may not appear to be so from what I’ve written, but it’s already beginning to get easier to deal with. I feel that I’m blessed enough and that most people will never have all I have. I may wish I could quit smoking, have a child and whatever else at times, but you win some and you lose some. Tom was right when he said all you can do is just try.

Later…

The trick-or-treaters are out there now. The sun’s just about completely set. We turned the front light off and locked the screen door. So, if anyone’s dumb enough to ring the bell or knock we’ll just ignore it.

Tom’s working on his computer next to me right now. He didn’t win at the tracks but had fun.

His dad’s in the hospital with pneumonia and will probably be there for a few days.

I just took a bath. Earlier Tom trimmed half an inch off my hair and in two months I’ll have him do that again.

In a couple of hours, I’ll be recording a couple of movies.

Andy said he was worried about his roommate Michelle. I guess she’s been very depressed. She’s mega fat and owes just over a grand in bills. However, her expenses are barely $300 a month, her father sends her $300 a month to help her out and she’s got a full-time job, so why she’s so miserable beats Andy. I just told him that it could be any number of things. Maybe she’s struggling with coming out. Andy says that in his heart of hearts, he feels she’s gay and how many 20-year-old virgins are there in today’s world?

He also had a dream that really impressed him since he’s always been rather wimpy. Well, in the dream, he, Michelle, and his friend Adam from Massachusetts who’s soon to be moving to San Diego in real life were walking down a street at night in his dream. They ended up going through a bad neighborhood infested with gangs, only they didn’t know it. A group of about 8 or 10 people came walking up to him and there were 2 leaders. A guy and a blond chick who looked like Madonna’s type. Michelle told them not to start shit with them cuz Andy would kick their asses. Well, Andy fought the chick and the guy and won. Michelle and Adam were thrilled saying they knew Andy could do it and Andy was shocked, but proud of himself as well as grateful.

They have this really good new gum flavor, cotton candy.

MONDAY, OCTOBER 30, 1995 Yesterday was a good day and today’s been good so far, too.

I still feel runny and itchy a bit, but I know it’s normal to have some itch. Even Tom gets itchy every now and then and puts hydrocortisone cream on. I guess it’s that time of the month when I’m supposed to run.

Anyway, I’ve been constipated yesterday and today, so my stomach’s been showing and feeling that.

I spoke to Kim who left a message last night. She said she’s doing OK, but she ended up having to have more surgery than originally planned and she did have to stay in the hospital for a few days. The doctor says she can still have kids, but I just don’t see it. She said if the problem comes back, she’ll have to have a hysterectomy and that could be in two weeks, or several years or never. She said she doesn’t think she’ll have any problems for several years and after she has kids, then she’ll probably have to get a hysterectomy.

She also said she finally told her mother about the babysitter that molested her when she was 6 or 7. Her mother was very supportive, so that’s good. She could’ve been in denial and tried to tell Kim that it never could’ve or did happen at all. She said she had a feeling since it happened that something did happen, but she couldn’t remember what or who or how till right before she met me when she was 21. I was the first one she told. I guess repressed memory is for real after all. I was wondering about that idea. She also says that she has a feeling that something happened with a distant family member when she was 11, but can’t remember right now. She feels that she’ll be able to remember it in time.

Anyway, she’s just taking it easy. She’s to be out of work for 3 weeks and is cranking out tons of letters.

She and Doug are still doing well and she says she knows she’ll end up marrying him. They haven’t set a date yet.

Tom and I did some work on the back room earlier. He did some work in the little room and I sorted the file box.

Like I said, he went down on me yesterday, then later we screwed. He proved to me all the more that screwing was never intended to be just for him or for us. It was supposed to be for him cuz I had been taken care of and I said he could go at his own pace, I still enjoy it and it was his turn. Sure enough, I had a hard time getting him hard with my hand, then when I got him hard enough and he went in there he wasn’t into it at all. He wasn’t in there very long at all. He insisted that it’s just that he “likes variety.” Sometimes he likes it short, sometimes he likes it long. Yeah, right. How much do you want to bet that if I was so horny and was gonna take care of myself while he was in there, there’d have been no problem getting him hard if it was for me? Then right after I’d cum he’d pull out. I never thought I’d meet anyone more scared than I am to have a kid.

That’s all for now. I think I’ll break for a cigarette, then I’ll write more later.

Later…

Tom finally got my drawing table cleared off so I washed that down and set it up nicely.

I just made pork chops and baked potatoes and now I’m waiting for the mail.

Earlier we changed Piggy’s cage and yesterday we agreed that today we’d do some research on Norah and see how I can find out about her and maybe even send a letter. I don’t know if he’s still gonna be up to that, though. If I do send a letter, that’ll be the first letter I’ve sent a celebrity in years. I sent Linda two letters years ago when I was in my teens but I never heard from her. I did hear from Kim Basinger and Nicolette Larson, though. Those are the only people I ever sent letters to. Why I sent anything to Kim Basinger beats me. I was never attracted to her and I never was a fan of her movies. I wasn’t attracted to Nicolette either, although I have one album of hers that I always loved, and I loved the long hair she used to have. She was one of those singers who was here today and gone tomorrow.

I never sent anything to Gloria and I never would. She’s too big of a star and I’d never hear anything from her. Stars that big don’t even hear about their fan letters, let alone read them. I’ll bet that the only time they hear about them is if there’s something different, weird or threatening about them.

SUNDAY, OCTOBER 29, 1995 I got up about an hour ago and Tom was still up. He’s been up for 24 hours. He said it’s good for him to break up the monotony and do that every now and then. The thing I envy about the guy is that he can throw himself back on track for work or whatever he needs to whenever he wants to. I wish I could do that. This would throw my whole schedule off for God knows how long if I had to maintain his schedule.

Anyway, there’s not much to report at this time. Just that Andy’s having a hard time with Pam who he’s been friends with for around two years. He was friends with her and her husband. He met them at his old complex over in Glendale and they still live there. Apparently, after having a good honest friendship with Pam and John, Pam scammed Andy by giving him shitty pot. She supposedly swapped bags and he ended up out $5 and with shitty weed. So, he told her that the money wasn’t the principal of the point, it was her intentionally lying to him.

He’s the opposite of me. When I’m pissed or upset with someone, I like to get it off my chest ASAP and confront the source, or else it’ll eat and eat at me. He likes to wait at least 48 hours so he can cool down and not say mean, hurtful things. So, he wrote his feelings to her in a letter without any threats, saying he knew what she did, it was wrong, but that they hoped they could work it out after such a good friendship. Well, she didn’t want to work it out. She left about 10 threatening messages on his machine and even went to his boss at work with a copy of the letter trying to get him fired for doing drugs. His boss, though, said that whatever Andy does out of work is his business and that he’s not gonna be fired.

Andy also said, thanks, but he won’t be needing that check.

Later…

Tom went to take a 4-hour nap which will be over within an hour.

Yesterday he said that if he was a smoker like I was who had tried to quit several times and didn’t succeed, it’d make him more determined to quit. I wish I had that attitude, but instead, it makes me want to give up more. I asked him if that meant that he was all the more determined to have a kid and he said yes. Yeah, right!

Meanwhile, I just did a big load of laundry which is now out on the line to dry. After I wake Tom up I’ll do the sheets and hang those out, too.

I finished typing the letter I had begun to my parents 3 days ago and I also did one for Kim, Bob and Tammy.

After Tom gets up he’s gonna go to the store and pick up some groceries. Will we have sex? That’s doubtful.

Their clocks went back in the east so they’re now 2 hours ahead instead of 3.

Later…

Tom just showed me something really cool that you can do with the CDs you play. Not only can I play them in random order, but I can select the tracks I want. That way I won’t be surprised by the shitty songs.

I tried to go as long as I could without smoking. I only went for 4 hours. Wowee, huh? Tom said that at least I tried. Anyway, the day’s been going OK. Tom even went down on me and we’ll probably screw later.

SATURDAY, OCTOBER 28, 1995 I should’ve fucking known better! Why the fuck did I have to go and tell Tom? Why? I ruined everything. I thought maybe, just maybe he’d understand. Instead, I did a really horrible thing, I broke our agreement which is off, he says, and also that there is no “us” right now even though we both gave our word that we would be married for life, not to mention all the other mean and untrue things he said.

I made the phone call cuz I felt like I was gonna freak and maybe do something stupid. All I wanted was someone to talk to and to calm down. I didn’t want to call him at work or involve Andy, Tammy or anyone else that we know. All I wanted was someone’s opinion, yet he says I’m lying to myself over the reasons why I called and he can’t trust me and I’ve lost a big part of him.

Over a phone call? Over a stupid phone call that I really wish to hell I never made, we have to throw it all away? The agreement and God knows what else? I know he’s doing this to punish me.

He said part of our agreement was to not talk to anyone till April of ‘97 if we had no luck on our own. I knew that but I didn’t know that meant not talking to someone at a medical info line. I didn’t set up a doctor’s appointment. He tells me that he doesn’t get his way, yet if I step out of line, it’s over and he has to dwell on it for days. Can’t he say to himself, “She didn’t mean to hurt me, made an honest mistake that she says she won’t make again, but we can just move on?”

He tells me to move forward after a bad day or thing has occurred and not to throw things away if I’ve made a mistake, but yet we can’t continue with our agreement. We have to come up with a whole new agreement which is so stupid and unnecessary. Knowing him he’ll make it April of ‘98 to punish me, even though he insists he wouldn’t punish me, doesn’t want to blame anyone, etc. Well, I sure feel blamed. Right now I feel like everything’s my fault and I fucked up this marriage even though I’d never try to. Can you imagine if I were to deliberately try to fuck up this marriage? I wouldn’t have to try hard at all now, would I?

What hurtful untrue things did he say? Well, according to him he makes 90% of his meals which is really more like 40% - 50%. And he says that I do for me and he does for us. Then why do I constantly ask if he needs anything or would like me to do anything? Why do I cook for him? Why do I do the grocery list? Why do I clean the house? The house that he also lives in. Why did I do the signing stuff? Why did I do a lot of things that I could go on and on with? Who does he think he’s kidding?

Not surprisingly at all (probably cuz this woman was right) he said this woman I spoke to was a quack for telling me what she thought of the situation without knowing all the facts. I told him she did say that she’s no expert in the matter, doesn’t know all there is to know about us and can only offer her theories about the matter. He said the reason why he was afraid of my going to a counselor is cuz he’s afraid they’ll want to drug me up and that’ll shatter my life after I’ve made so much progress. But this makes no sense! Why would they want to drug me up?

He says I believe authority figures. Well, let me set the record straight - if there’s anyone I don’t trust it is authority figures, and if a doctor suggested meds to me, I’d just walk out of their office. Not go off the deep end.

It’s not that I ever wanted to see a counselor and thought that that would necessarily be the answer to our problems cuz I believe that only we can work this out and that if we can’t, a therapist isn’t gonna do it. A medical doctor would do it. One that can get his sperm into me somehow, but trust me on this one, never before have I felt this turned off by this man in almost every way you can imagine. I don’t want to have sex with him, I don’t want to be a singer, I don’t want to have a kid. I don’t want to do anything but stay just the way I am. I may as well have his attitude and say hey, I made a mistake singing yesterday, so fuck it. I’ll just throw it away. I don’t want to do anything with him right now and I really think I’ll be feeling that way for a long time. I don’t even want to sit in the same room with the guy right now. According to him, I’m mean, selfish, unloving and on and on. Well, I have no desire to get close to or do anything with someone that says this. How dare he say I lie to myself while he lies to my face with such comments like “I do for me and he does for us.”

Never before have I been so determined to keep my mouth shut when the tiniest thing is bothering me. It’s worth exploding over by keeping it bottled up. I’ll never call no medical info line, I’ll never call no crisis center and I’ll certainly never talk to him. I really feel like he’s treating me like I killed someone. I may as well have done just that!

Meanwhile, he says that nothing he feels has changed with him. That’s funny that he could say that after saying our agreement’s off. That really makes me feel that he just may be telling the truth about wanting a kid. What it really tells me is that he’s told me the truth and has confessed to me that my doubts about him were true.

I just hope he goes out today and stays far the hell away from me. Even if he woke up and told me he jumped the gun and that we should move forward and forget what was an honest mistake on my part - no way! And personally? I don’t feel that phone call was a mistake. I feel it was a mistake to tell him about it. That’s for damn sure. Meanwhile, I had a right to seek information and opinions. I didn’t publish my fears, doubts and questions in a newspaper. I called a medical nurse.

Later…

I just listened to music for a little bit, but my stomach’s really bothering me. I can’t seem to #2 right now, even though I feel like I need to.

He just got up, I don’t feel like talking and am still pretty tired. I think I’ll go lie down.

Later…

Mr. Can’t Do No Wrong is up now. Now here’s a classic example of doing for oneself, but not for both of us. He told me a few days ago that he was gonna go on the Slim-Fast diet today. He did. It’s funny, though, how he can stick to that. That’s more important than our agreement.

This morning he asked if he could get me anything and if I wasn’t going to talk to him. I just told him that there was nothing to say. I don’t want to do anything. I don’t want to talk about anything.

Later…

Tom just left to go do that electrical work for Evelyn. He told me that he canceled his work tomorrow with Eldon, but didn’t mention the 5th. All he mentioned was having to call him back. He tried this morning, but couldn’t get ahold of him.

Anyway, we did end up talking some more cuz I know that’s what he wanted. I’ll still always end up regretting it and wishing I’d kept my mouth shut.

He still sees me as selfish, spoiled and that what I did yesterday was wrong and breaking our agreement. I see it as trying to help us and what’s wrong with a couple trying to get help sooner than later? I wasn’t making an appointment to see a doctor. Yes, he insists that what I did was as good as doing that cuz I was trying to help us sooner. What’s wrong with trying to help us sooner to ensure that all the more we wouldn’t have to go to a doctor? I can’t help the way I feel about it and he said I have a right to feel the way I feel about it. Yet, in the next breath, he said the problem was that I still believed that what I did was OK. I swear I’ll never do another thing to try to help us. He still insists that he wants a kid, that we could’ve had one by now and that we will, but I really think this is his way of letting me know that I was right about suspecting that he didn’t want one and to him, this is a way out of it.

There’s always no opportunity for him. There’s always an excuse for him. This is what I get for praying? Yesterday after I spoke to the woman, I was still crying and I finally got up the nerve to pray after the OJ verdict for God to help us. Instead, the situation only gets worse. He says I blame God for a lot of shit and don’t take responsibility for my own actions. But I do believe God plays a part in a lot of the things in our lives, and I do take responsibility for my own actions. I never blamed anyone for the prank phone calls I’ve made whether or not the person I was calling shit on me or if they were total strangers. I picked up that phone all by myself and I never denied that or stuff I’ve chosen to do by myself whether they were right or wrong.

He says that neither of us should put time frames on stuff and that that’s wrong. Then why is it OK to put the September of ‘96 timeframe on when I’d have a CD out? What’s the difference?

It gets more bizarre. He told me he didn’t like our April of ‘97 agreement. Then why did he make it? I’m so sick of him denying things he says or him going back on his word. He said it was a compromise and that he felt it was the only thing we could do to get what we want. To get what we want, he can just cum, you know. That’d help, but can you understand how I no longer want a child with him? I told him I’d still have one if he ever decides he really wants that and is willing to put his actions where his mouth is, cuz I want to make him happy and the only way he seems to be happy, is if I do what he wants. I thank God that he’ll never cum no matter what I do or don’t say, I will not have a child with this man and I will not step foot into a doctor’s office even if he were to get down on his knees and beg me. We have enough to fight about as it is. There’s no way I’ll involve a child in it or live with the fears I’ll have about it if we did have a child. I refuse to give this man a child. He can have anything else he wants from me, but no child! I refuse to do anything to help us or discuss it, cuz it’ll only start fights.

He says I take fits cuz I can’t get what I want. He’s the one standing in the way of what I want. He took and ruined my dreams of having a child. I can’t see anything changing my mind about it now. Not at this point. He can play this game and lie to me all he wants about it. He tells me that my doubts and paranoias about him are all in my head. Are they? He could’ve fooled me. He has the nerve to say that my refusing to have a child is taking his desire to have a child away while I’ve told him that that’s what I want and he says he wants it too, then he doesn’t deliver. I feel that I’ve done all I can do to help us both and there’s nothing more I can do. I can’t make him cum or force him to give us a child.

He says he thought our sex life was getting better. He could’ve fooled me on that one, too.

I do want to follow through with the singing and the business but am afraid he’ll back out of it. I just can’t buy one thing he says to me. Not about the business, not about the singing, or the back room, or the bee machine, or the cigarette machine, and certainly not the kid. He just has too many goddamn mother-fucking excuses!

From now on, I’m just gonna keep my mouth shut, forget about my dreams and just go along with whatever he does. I’m tired of him never doing what he says he’s gonna do. I’m tired of him denying things I know he did say. I’m tired of him going back on his word and contradicting me. He swears this isn’t my fault, yet he may as well come out and tell me that everything is my fault. Sometimes I think that I’m nothing but a fuck-up and I’m the one that’s ruining this marriage, other times I think it’s him. Well, it’s getting more and more obvious that he’s been full of shit about the things he said he or we were gonna do. I’m completely powerless. He has all the power and control.

Later…

I just got done watching the bulk of a movie, then I’ll be taping another one. The liar will be home around noon. I think I’ll go work on 99 now.

Later…

Tom came home a couple of hours ago and said that since he’s had a chance to calm down he’d really like to continue on with making the marriage work as well as our dreams. I agree that I’d like the marriage to work, I want to spend the rest of my life with him, but I feel that the dreams are in his hands and up to him.

Anyway, we’re both feeling a bit better and now I’ll go do some more work on 99 till he returns from picking up what he’s picking up for himself at Arby’s and for me at KFC.

It’s funny, though, cuz just the other day I wanted to type but couldn’t think of anything to really say. I guess that’s all changed between today and yesterday. One more thing before I go. I asked Tom why it’s OK to have a time frame set for the CD which is September of ‘97, not ‘96. I made a mistake on the year. He said that it’s OK to put time frames on certain things and other things it’s not good to do that cuz it puts pressure on him. Everyone’s different as to what is a good thing to put a time frame on and what isn’t. I’ll just go along with what he wants time frames on and what he doesn’t, cuz I feel that that’s pretty much the only way it can be. He also told me what the difference between a goal and a deadline was in his opinion.

I still say that the bottom line is that I feel that in order to stay with this man that I love for the rest of my life, that does mean never having a kid. I’m not saying he’s not worth it, I’m just saying I’ll always feel he was full of shit about having a kid till the day I die.

He also insisted that I refuse to be proven wrong as far as how I say we can’t ever have a kid for whatever reason or reasons. I think he’s using that as an excuse to cover for his never intending to cum. Among other excuses, too.

Later…

Tom just showed me a couple of really cool things on the computer. He showed me how to get back one keystroke or one click of the mouse that you deleted. I wish I had known that today when I accidentally hit the enter key on one of the page numbers. It caused the computer to crash when I did that, but luckily I didn’t save it that way and after I re-booted my stuff came up just the way it was supposed to be. Before it was mixed up.

Also, I was wrong in saying that Tom never touches those magazine articles I typed up for him. He says he doesn’t use them a lot but he does here and there and he did today to show me how to index some stuff and how the hidden text thing works.

It’s so cool how you can hide stuff within a document. For example, if I’m typing a story, I can leave notes to myself and mark them hidden. Then if I want to check my notes, I can display any hidden text.

Right now he’s working on the TV descrambler.

FRIDAY, OCTOBER 27, 1995 Boy, did I get the surprise of my life last night. Tom really did wake me up. We didn’t screw, though, and all he did was touch me, but I really thought he was joking. He said that this was a start. He said he had been afraid that if he woke me up I’d get mad. But I only would if he did it constantly or when I was tired and he knows this.

He saved a message from Eldon that I think he only saved hoping I’d hear it. He already has his number written down, so why else would he save it but for what I’m about to write about? Eldon had to cancel their get-together this Sunday and make it next Sunday which is the 5th. He thinks that I’m mid-cycle on the 5th, and I’ve been saying that I think something’s trying to get in our way (besides himself for not cumming). So, I think this is his way of rubbing it in and teasing me with the subject. There are two reasons why I think he won’t cum at the times of the month that it’s very unlikely to conceive. One is cuz there’s still a very slight chance. Two is cuz then it’d look more obvious that he was trying to avoid my getting pregnant.

Anyway, he told me to wake him up at 5 which is in 10 minutes. Then he’ll bang himself hard till he conks out or gets a cramp or whatever the chosen excuse will be for this morning. He can’t go down on me till at least after work. The last of the crotch cream is still making its way out.

I hope Kim’s doing OK. She’s probably on her way out of the hospital at this time since it’s 8:00 there. I can’t see her able to drive herself home from her mother’s, though. She said this operation would have more pain involved than the last and the last time she said she couldn’t move from her mother’s place for a couple of days.

Well, it’s nice to know that instead of going out to the mall with a phony, controlling backstabber (Jenny), then back to a cold, snowy dive as I was on this day 8 years ago, I can have sex and enjoy doing the things I do in a house where it’s safe and the weather’s gorgeous. It’s not gonna be gorgeous, though, for a few more hours.

Karson hasn’t called after those two times she called, so that’s good.

Today I’m gonna vacuum and do the bathroom, but right now it’s time to get off and get him hard!

Later…

Well, I did just what I said I was gonna do. I got him hard, but I didn’t get off. He was just so hard that I couldn’t reach enough of my clit. He was hard instantly. Of course, he isn’t gonna cum with the way he goes about screwing. He speeds up a bit then right as he’s about to go over the edge he stops for about 30 seconds and does this over and over. We screwed on his hard bed which I wasn’t sure if I could ever do, but we both like it better on the waterbed. Then he went to the bathroom which is where he probably got his relief.

He said swapping Andy a check for cash would be no problem if he needs it. Andy says he doubts he’ll need it, but will let me know by Sunday. He’ll have to have it post-dated for the 6th if he does and his appointment is on the 30th. He’s gonna get his gums scaled and they want the first half up front which is $140.

I probably won’t be having my teeth done till next year and I hope to hell they hold out till then. So far, so good and that upper right wisdom tooth hasn’t been bothering me.

I just asked Tom if he wanted me to make his second sandwich and he insisted he’ll make it. I wonder why? Probably so he cannot close the breadboard all the way. He knows that gets on my nerves. I like cabinets, drawers, etc., shut tight. It looks better that way. But, like I’ve said before, he likes for me to tidy up after him.

I might start another story today. I don’t know. I have to be in the right mood and frame of mind for that.

I called AOL but had no messages from Alex.

Andy said that Michelle said that that’s very normal to have to wait this long for Gloria’s fan club stuff. She’s waited 2-4 years for different fan clubs herself and hasn’t always gotten everything they were supposed to send her. It’s been over a year now if I remember correctly. I’m just curious to see what they’re gonna send. Maybe I’ll know in another year.

Before I go listen to music, what was Tom’s excuse this morning? Just that he had to hurry up and get his day started. It’s just now 6:00 and he doesn’t have to leave till 7:30. This game of his is getting really old. Sometimes I just want to come out and say, “No sex if you’re not gonna do it right.” This is really getting to be quite insulting as used to it as I am and as much as I know that this is how it’ll always be.

Later…

Tom shut the breadboard, so I guess he just wanted to move around more to wake himself up more and that’s why he made his sandwich. Anyway, he’s in the shower now.

I mentioned how we’ll have Saturday and Monday together, and he said yes, we will, and all the time in between. I thought he was then gonna come out and say that he wasn’t doing Eldon’s computer work till the 5th, but he didn’t. I guess he must’ve talked to Eldon and they kept it for this Sunday.

At this time 8 years ago Jenny came over to make us that toast and coffee. I can remember the feeling too, of how I felt so groggy from all the medication I was on. I was on a high dose of Navane still at that time.

I’m calling the weather line now to see what they have to say. The current temperature is 54º. It’s to be in the upper 80s for the next two days, they say.

Time to go feed the birds as I’m sure they’re waiting upon the electrical lines for their birdseed.

Later…

Same routine. They were up on the lines and as soon as I came back in after putting their food out, they dove for it. About 60 birds are going at it out there.

Later…

All the food is gone and so are the birds. However, they hang out there on and off all day looking for seeds that have fallen to the ground from trees.

I am so very, very upset now. Perhaps I’m more upset and confused than I ever have been before. I’m so overwhelmed with things to write about now, that I’m not sure where to begin. I’ll begin at the beginning, I guess, and try to remember everything I want to say. They say that if something’s too good to be true, it probably isn’t. Well, now I fear that my husband who’s what most women dream of may be lying all the more about not wanting a kid.

First of all, why did he tell me that therapy sessions cost hundreds of dollars unless you’re on medication? I called and asked them and they said it’s a $10 co-payment just like regular doctor’s visits.

Anyway, I called and ask a nurse again to see if I’d get a different nurse and to see what their theory was about our sex life. It was a different nurse, alright, and I certainly didn’t want to hear what she had to say about it, but I had to hear it at the same time.

Now I just don’t know who to believe anymore. My husband or this professional who says she’s been through it herself.

Let me tell you what she told me she went through first. She said she was with a guy who she thought would never lie to her and who was great all around. He said he wanted a kid just like she did. Not only couldn’t he get off, but he couldn’t get hard, either. Finally, he let go once, she got pregnant and he split.

Now how do you suppose this is supposed to make me feel, even though this might not happen to all of us? It happens to most women and she too, never thought he’d leave any more than I think Tom would leave if I were pregnant.

She told me all her theories about it which are just what I’ve wondered about. When I asked her if I could be right since I’ve had this nagging feeling about him not wanting a child, she said that they say those gut instincts are usually correct.

She said that he could knowingly not want a child, but is saying he does cuz he knows it’s what I want.

When I think back on it I remember how he told me up front he really was doubtful of wanting a child. Then the more he could see that I wanted one, he began to go along with it.

Maybe he’s tried and is trying in his own subtle little ways to tell me he doesn’t want one cuz he doesn’t have the heart to tell me bluntly, even though he swears he would and that’s what I would need and want him to do.

But when I think back on comments he’s made like, “What are you gonna do? Go out and cheat on me?” after I said I was gonna do all I could do to get us that child we say we want. And, “All that’s standing in the way of going back east is money.” Like he knows I won’t be pregnant. And when I’ve confronted him with such comments he either insists I misunderstood him or doesn’t remember saying whatever.

She also said that there could be other factors he’s thinking like, would I be a good father? Can we afford it?

I know he doesn’t like anything to get in the way of our time together.

She also said he could have a subconscious fear or stress about it that even he isn’t aware of.

I told her that I’m trying my best to not pressure him about it and she said she felt that while she could understand that, at the same time that shouldn’t interfere with a guy functioning sexually unless they do have a fear that they either know or don’t know about.

What she says makes sense, but I just don’t know who to believe. I want to believe my husband, but it’s getting harder to do.

She too, can’t understand how he can be happy with our sex life the way it is and believes he’s probably relieving himself in the bathroom or wherever.

She told me, “I don’t know him, I can’t see into his eyes or hear his voice or know everything about you two, but I don’t think this will go away on its own, although I hope I’m wrong.”

When I told her about our agreement for April of ‘97 she asked how can he know that everything will be OK by then? I told her he said he wouldn’t bet his life on anything but feels that things are getting better and that anytime from now till then, we should be able to have a kid ourselves with no problems. She said she thought that due to it being more than likely to not go away on its own that we should see a counselor, or even just me by myself if he won’t go. She thinks that that can very well help us to enable ourselves to have a kid on our own even better.

She told me she didn’t think the problem was me and asked me if I thought the problem was me. I told her sometimes I think that, but mostly I think it’s his fear that’s the problem.

I believe that therapy could help us both too, and that if it didn’t it couldn’t hurt, but I’m so afraid to bring it up to him. I really don’t think a kid is worth his taking the time out to go to a therapist and I really think it’s more important to spare his embarrassment, rather than to get help having a kid. At least that’s what I think he feels. How can I let him know that I just want to do all I can to help us? How can I let him know that I just want to do all I can to help us get the things we want? How can I let him know this without him feeling I’m trying to attack him or fight with him? How do I tell him it’s OK to see a therapist and do the things that I suggest will help us as well as the things he suggests will help us? How do I tell him he doesn’t have to be ashamed or embarrassed to talk to a professional who just wants to help us too, if that’s how he truly feels?

She said that if I don’t do anything about it and it doesn’t get better, then I’ll never have a child and I’ll be giving up something that I want to make him happy. But I want to make him happy. I don’t want to force him to do anything he doesn’t want to do. I’d rather spend my life with him with no kid, than with someone else with a kid, but how do we find a way to compromise?

We both say we want a kid and that now’s a good time, so why don’t we start doing whatever it’ll take now? Why must we wait? Why can’t we go to a therapist to achieve one of two things: either him being able to admit he doesn’t want one or us taking action towards having a kid if it’s what we both want?

Why must we wait or stall and why do I have a feeling that in April of ‘97 if things do stay the same as I fear, yet believe they will that he’ll do all he can to stall or avoid the doctors?

How do I know he isn’t truly playing with my head on just this issue and having a blast doing it? How do I know that something bad or hurtful didn’t happen in his past? What if he had a kid with someone else? He does seem to know an awful lot about kids. Can he really learn all this just by what others say? I suppose he can, but I just want to know who to believe! Can anyone help us? Please, God, I don’t want to go on like this, but I don’t want to lose my husband either.

What do I do?

He said if I took the injection he’d feel spited, yet I feel spited by this. I just need to know the truth, no matter what it is. I need to know he’ll do all he can do to help us and I want to do all I can do to help us.

I want to believe in him and trust him with this as I do with everything else he tells me.

And by the way, this nurse says the opposite of that injection. She says some women have very heavy and irregular periods with it. Forget it.

I just don’t know what to do. I know that if I hold it in, it’ll keep the peace between us, but it may not ever help us to not deal with it and face it and get help with it. Especially if he has a fear he won’t confess to and all the more especially if he’s got something going on psychologically that he’s unaware of. I just want to help him. I just want to help us. How can I let him lovingly know this? I don’t want to hurt, change or fight with him. I just want this problem resolved. Not in a year and a half or 2 or 5 or 10, but now. We’ve lived like this long enough and I would want it resolved even if we both admitted to never wanting a child, cuz I love my husband and I care about us both enough to want us to have a normal and happy life in and out of bed.

I still can’t think of the best thing to do. A part of me wants to just try to forget it and never bring it up again. Not even if he doesn’t bring up going to see a doctor when April of ‘97 comes. The other part of me wants to say to him, “Hey, look. I love you and this is why I’m doing this. I just want to help us and I’m sorry if that gets you upset in any way or if you think I’m trying to pick on you.”

Sometimes I feel like we both don’t believe each other.

There is another thing that I didn’t mention that could possibly be going through Tom’s head whether he knows it or not that he could fear. I really doubt he’s worried he’d be a good father. I know he’d be a good father and I asked him if he thought he would be and he said yes. Perhaps he fears that I’d be a bad mother, but doesn’t want to admit that to me. Or maybe it’s nagging at his subconscious.

Anyway, I feel trapped with this just like I do with the cigarettes. I have different ideas that go through my head to try to achieve my goals or help us achieve something we want, only to fail at whatever I try or to be unable to do what ideas I have.

Why is it that my life has been full of one long-term issue after another to have to deal with? Why do I always have to be facing situations that are unusual or that just have me feeling so helpless? I feel like I’ve got a million different choices I could make and I just don’t know where to turn.

Tom said he wants to do more of what he wants and that he feels controlled. Well, I feel like I should be doing more of what he wants, to hell with my needs, wants and desires and I feel controlled, too. I feel like I have to sacrifice something I want very much to make him happy. If that’s what I must do, I can and will do it, but I’d need to know this. I’m tired of wondering, guessing and being suspicious. I don’t want my head played with. I don’t want to be hurt and I certainly don’t want to hurt Tom or play with his head.

In a way I wish I never called this woman cuz I fear so much that she could be right. I hope she’s not, but I can’t help what my gut’s been telling me and my gut’s been pretty accurate when it comes to the more serious or personal issues that this is what makes it all the scarier.

Should I forget all about it, assume Tom doesn’t want a kid by what his actions have shown and insist we use rubbers?

Or should I insist that we do all we can do to help us ASAP? Even if it does mean both of us or one of us (believe me I prefer it to a team thing, though) going to someone and spilling it out to them? Like I said before, if it doesn’t help us, how can it hurt us? I guess that the worst that could happen is that one or both of us don’t like or agree with what the counselor could say. Or we could both like and agree with what they could say, but it doesn’t help us at all. Would seeing a counselor really help to ensure that we could have a child on our own without going to see a doctor?

I’m so afraid to bring this up with Tom. To him, his weekend will be ruined if I do. Why does he have to see it that way, though? I thought that it’s natural for two people who want the same thing to discuss stuff like this and talk about doing whatever it took and talk about the things they like or are interested in all they want. I mention the singing to him constantly and it doesn’t bother him. We’ve discussed all kinds of things that the two of us could do to try to make the business take off as well as to get me known as the singer I’ve always wanted to be and it’s never seemed to upset him in any way. I swear I could talk about the singing triple the amount of time I talk about the kid and it wouldn’t upset him. If I ask him if there’s something he could please do to help with the singing, he does it. He puts his actions where his mouth is. What’s the difference? He knows they both mean a lot to me. He’s always told me that my being happy is very important to him and I want so very much to believe that.

Should I ask him to try praying with me? I just hope that some kind of help comes to resolve this real soon cuz I’m stuck!!

Later…

At this point and for the rest of the day, I’m just taking it easy. I cried in between typing the pages about the shit that’s going on so I do feel a bit better even though the problem won’t go away. I guess there’s no real point in talking to Tom. I can’t get him to budge on this subject and it makes me ask myself, do I really want a child for a whole different reason? Do I want to make this guy do something he very, very very obviously doesn’t want to do? No. Do I want to have a child and have him say how much he’s looking forward to it just to leave me? No. People are full of surprises and it’s a chance I’d rather not take, regardless of how slim it may be, so there’s no point in talking to him or my doing anything so we can have a baby.

THURSDAY, OCTOBER 26, 1995 Speaking of Sarah herself, I got a letter from her yesterday. A 4-page letter. She said she’ll write more soon enough. It was good to hear from her. She says she’s still hitting it off with this guy Tim and that my artwork was great. She also says she’s gonna be sending me a picture of her soon. I just typed her a 2½-page letter which I’ll mail out today.

Also, I got to talk to Kim a half-hour ago who’s leaving for Boston at 9:30 her time and is supposed to be under for surgery at 1 PM her time. The operation’s supposed to last an hour to an hour and a half. She’s to leave the hospital tomorrow morning. She says this one’s supposed to be more painful. That sucks. The last one was painful enough from what she described to me.

Karson called Andy too, but he’s gonna ignore her too.

Later…

I just got done listening to music and in half an hour I’ll be waking Tom up if he isn’t up before that.

That’s all that’s going on at the moment, so I’ll go and work some more on 99.

Later…

I just got Tom up and he’s now eating the spag I made yesterday.

He’s insisting that it’s not cold in here, but yes, it is. He fired up the back room wall heater.

He said he was bummed that he had to go do some electrical work for Evelyn this Saturday cuz that’s supposed to be our day. He says he doesn’t like anything getting in the way of our time. That’s part of God’s plan, I reminded him, and that tells me that I was right on one of the many reasons I thought he could have for not wanting a kid. That kid would certainly get in the way of our time. Believe me, though, I don’t like that idea, either. I asked him why he didn’t say no, and he said it’s cuz we need the money even though it’s only gonna be about $10 and it’ll only take an hour.

I asked him again if he’s sure he doesn’t want me to work this winter. Money will be tight till the end of the year and he said no cuz we’ve got plans to sell programs and get me singing. Let’s hope so. I do not want a child this broke and I told him so. He says it’ll only be for a few months and that a kid takes 9 months to arrive, but you know where I stand with that. I know love is more important, but I still want us to be able to support it properly.

Oh, my God, I do not believe it. Tom just said that I should try not to be up when he gets home. Then after I’ve slept a few hours and he’s eaten and digested his food, he’ll wake me up for fun. That’d be cool, then all I have to do is hope I get to bed soon after so my schedule is not fouled up for the weekend.

I’ll have to tell Tom since his waking me up for it is new, that I may not act too into it, but I will be and that’s a perfect time for sex to be “just for him.” Also, with a few minutes of getting a back rub afterward, I may fall back asleep better, then I’ll spoil him this weekend.

Later…

I just let Tom know what I just said in the paragraph up above and he said, “I’m not saying what I will or won’t do. I just want to spend some time with you and please don’t make it into something I don’t want to do.”

I forgot. That’s right. He likes spontaneity. Well, there won’t be sex then, since I mentioned it. That’s OK. I enjoy it more when I’m awake.

I’m making a TV dinner now since I’m 104 pounds. I realized I had two choices. To either starve or to give up. Right now I’m giving up, but I’ll tell you what Tom had to say about it later.

Later…

I just ate the TV dinner and after I finish the cigarette I’m smoking, I’m gonna go listen to music.

Tom reminded me of how my weight fluctuated when I first lost all that weight 10 years ago and says that’s normal.

Kim just left for Boston and she’ll get there right before 11 AM. She’s driving her car with her mother who’ll drive her car back to South Deerfield. Then, her aunt, who has to go through Boston anyway, will bring her to her mom’s house in South Deerfield tomorrow. Then Kim will take her car from her mom’s place back to her apartment which is only a mile away. I hope she’ll be well enough to drive even a mile.

Bob’s gonna be going nuts cuz she told him not to write to her till she returns and he hears from her just like the last time. I know she doesn’t want her mother or her grandmother to know she’s associated with Bob due to getting hit with questions, but according to her, it’s her neighbor who picks up her mail. Remember, though, it’s a small town where everyone knows everyone else’s business, so that’s probably why.

I just listened to music and now Tom’s in the shower. He’ll be taking off for work in just under an hour. Then, I’ll probably start some singing, but right now I’ll go feed the birds. Actually, I’m gonna take a shower as soon as he leaves, cuz I’m a grub and I need to shave and wash my hair.

Later…

I thought to myself as I just opened the door, are the birds there yet? Sure enough, they were all waiting on the electrical lines, so I just ran out and fed them. It’s freezing! It will be for the next few hours. Wow! There are nearly 20 pigeons out there as well as about 40 little birds. There are more pigeons and little birds that I saw waiting up on the lines. They must have several places where they sit and watch for when I come out. It’s amazing how they seem to know my schedule. They’re always out there, no matter what time of day I go out there for the first time unless it’s at night. It’s cool to see the pigeons stand on the wall that divides the pool and the Jacuzzi while they get drinks.

I was gonna print out calendars for 1996, but I’ll wait till we get closer to the end of the year and see how many regular calendars we get, so I don’t bother with making extra copies that’ll just be wasted.

Later…

Got a phone call from a lady at the credit union about the mortgage payment. She says the October 8th payment is past due. I left Tom a home memo so he can take care of it and I’m sure he will. I also let him know that I tried to make an appointment to see Dr. Rugg on November 9th which is a Thursday, but she doesn’t work on Thursdays, so I was told to call back on November 3rd and that I could make an appointment for the 10th. Let’s hope so. I need to get it over with and it’s not that often that Tom will have a weekday off.

Lastly, I let him know of Andy’s request. He said that more than likely he won’t need this but he needs to give the dentist a post-dated check for $140. He wants to know if we could write the check out and he’ll give us the cash for it. I told him there should be no problem if he needs us to do that and will mention it to Tom.

Andy and I chatted about different things. I read him Sarah’s letter and he told me about a dream he had. He said he knew it was him looking into the future. He said he saw a guy that was about 24-25 years old wearing a black button-down shirt with a pocket in the front. He couldn’t tell much else about him, but he said that something was telling him that this was Mr. Right. It said to look for this guy when he’s at the bar which he goes to on Tuesday nights and to approach this guy cuz the guy is interested but is too shy. Well, he went to the bar last Tuesday night, but he didn’t see anyone like that. Just a guy with that type of shirt that was dark gray, but he said that this guy was not at all interested. We’ll just have to wait and see what happens.

So, Karson’s left me two messages and him 4. He said that once a month or so we can call her and rank on her and tape it. Meanwhile, she can call us all she wants in between cuz we won’t talk to her. Maybe. I reminded Andy, though, that we’ll just have to enjoy the conversations, though, till I get a new dual tape deck (if I can get one that I can edit on) cuz mine’s dead.

I just weighed in at 102, so maybe I was full of water. I swear I’ve peed 4 times in the last hour and a half.

I also talked to Tammy and got some great news from her, finally. There’s this elderly woman with cancer and her daughter hired her to care for this woman Monday - Friday From 9 AM - 3 PM for $9 an hour under the table. That’s great and the kids are at the perfect age where she can do that. She said with her luck, though, the woman will die. This is great for her, though. She’s been cursed long enough.

I got the dishes done, but don’t feel like doing the bathroom or the vacuuming, so I’ll make sure I jump on it tomorrow.

I started the CD and it went from track 10 to track 7. It’s so neat.

Well, I guess I’ll go start letters to my family. I feel like I’m forgetting to mention something, but I can’t think of it. Oh well.

WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 25, 1995 The American Lung Association sent these Christmas seals kids designed. There’s one for all 50 states, including the District of Columbia and Puerto Rico. Idaho’s the best and it won, too. So, I’ll use them as date separators, but not in Journal 100.

I just pulled out my first journal and like I’ve said before - what a shitty writer I was. I checked to see if I wrote the time down that I began writing, but I never mentioned much about time till 3 days later. I probably began between 11 AM-noon judging by how long Jenny was probably there who I said came over at 9:30, then to get to the mall, etc.

I never even mentioned who Jenny, Kevin, Nellie and Mattie were for God knows how long. Yes, it just might be a good idea to “recap” my life. I believe that at some point in South Deerfield, I did write about people I’ve known in more detail. I went back and explained how, where, and when I met a certain person. How long I knew them, and if they were good or bad.

Wow. This is the longest period I’ve had all year. I’m not flowing heavily, but I’m not just spotting, either. Hopefully, it’ll bring some of the bloating down. The weird thing about my stomach, though, is that as bloated as it is it’s hard. It must be gas.

Anyway, I’m gonna take a nice hot relaxing bath. Tom turned up the water temp yesterday morning before he went to work.

Later…

OK, now I feel better and the water was perfect.

Guess who left a message at 4:00 yesterday afternoon and at midnight? None other than Karson herself. I left Andy a message letting him know that it’s his right to be friends with her, but not to call me with her on the line. Also, if she calls and I answer, I’ll just hang up and I’ll have Tom do the same as well. She’s got a new number that’s obviously local, but I’m not sure if it’s still in Mesa or where the hell it is. I don’t know what her situation is or why she took so long to call us. I’m sure she called Andy, too.

I can’t believe Fran’s only called once in this last year, but what about the occasional hang-ups we get? Could they be Fran or Nervous? I wouldn’t be too surprised if they were.

Later…

Yes! I’m down to 100 lbs. Thank God for giving me the ability to lose weight. Just maybe I could lose the 30-50 lbs. I’d need to if the ½% chance happens that we do have a kid. That’s more like a 0% chance, but it’s nice to know that even in this day and age I can do it. I asked Tom if he thought I could lose a lot of weight if I had to even though I’m 30 and not 19 and he said yes. And I don’t need to and didn’t starve, either.

Remember how I said Tom has all kinds of reasons for not wanting a kid now? All kinds of big and little reasons? He probably wants me to be able to wear and enjoy the jeans I got at the end of last winter. So do I. I even asked him last summer if I’d be able to fit into them this winter and he said yes. Now, just how would he know that? Gee, I really wonder! He’s the type who’ll always find reasons to wait on the kid. It’s an easy thing to do, though, so I understand.

If he’s not up by 5:00 I’ll wake him up.

Knowing he won’t hit me for sex this morning is fine, as this is the time I’m the least horny. Plus, he likes to go down on me more than to screw and even if my period was completely over, that crotch cream won’t be too tasty. I only have two more days to go on that.

Oh, my God! Journal 100 is only 3½ pages away. It’s so hard to believe. It’s amazing how I went to the Enfield Mall that day with only a few dollars to my name. A few dollars I should’ve saved for food, but I bought my first journal instead. From there I just never looked back. I just couldn’t stop writing. According to my journal chart, the age I was where I wrote the most was 28. I wrote the least from September 17, 1989 - October 30, 1990.

I just got the computer going and I brought up 100 which has been thoroughly tested. All the margins look fine. I’ll probably change fonts every 4 pages seeing how I counted 186 pages and there are 45 fonts I’ll be using. I’ll also probably print out sections at a time, but I won’t put them into the spiral till I’m all done.

Later…

Tom’s eating now and is psyched for the suspenseful countdown to journal 100 as I am!

I told him I weigh 100 and asked him if I looked better. He said no, but that I still always look good.

When I called my parents yesterday, Dad answered and I began saying I was Special Agent S and that I know he was on America’s Most Wanted. He laughed at that. I told him what Larry said when we spoke last week.

Tomorrow Kim will be having surgery in Boston, the poor girl. I know she’ll be there overnight, but I forgot if she said she’d arrive there tonight or tomorrow morning. I assume she’d go there tomorrow morning and leave the next morning with her mother.

No mail from Alex on AOL this morning, but am I ever gonna get anything from Gloria’s fan club?! I wish I had their address which was dumb of me not to save so I could write to them and tell them to forget it and send the money back.

Well, now it’s time to say goodbye to the double digits! My God, I can’t believe I got here! I actually made it to journal 100!!!!!!!!!

Later…

Well, here I am! I’m actually in journal 100! Tom says he thinks that when I’m 36 or 37 I’ll hit journal 200. We’ll see. After I finish this journal and after I print it out, I’ll probably zing back to a regular page setup just like all my other typed versions of my journals. Boy, this is so much faster and easier. It kind of makes me want to do all my journals this way. I love the computer’s little digital clock down below, too. It’s easier to deal with, rather than the big wall clock that I’ve got in the music room. I’m practically saving my stuff by sentences instead of paragraphs since I’m not copying this out of a journal. I’d hate to have worded a long paragraph perfectly only to have the computer crash on me right as I go to save it.

This weekend Tom’s gonna fire up the wall heater out here in the back room. For now, I’ve got the little portable heater out here and it’s not very effective. In a couple of weeks or so, since we’ll probably have a warm spell, according to Tom, we’ll fire up the living room one. The back room gets the coldest cuz it’s the biggest and it’s an end room. The music room is the smallest, for example, and it’s in between the back room and the master bedroom.

I’m still not sure whether or not I’ll start another story. Probably one of these days soon enough. I’m not sure what it’ll be about.

Anyway, today I’ll probably do some singing and maybe clean the bathroom. I’ll try to force myself to do some dusting and vacuuming, too.

I may try to get ahold of Kim today so I can ask her when she’s taking off for the hospital and what time she’ll be operated on and when she’ll be leaving the hospital.

Wait till I tell Andy that I’m now on 100. I’m sure he’ll be quite pleased to hear that. I’ll also let my parents, Tammy, Kim, Bob and Alex know, too.

I’m debating on whether or not I should discuss different parts of my life more thoroughly in this journal. Of course, I’d interrupt it with current events. Let's see…where would I begin? If this were my very first journal, I’d start off with: My name is Jodi Lin S and I am 29 years old. I was born on December 4, 1965. Then I’d go on to say some of the things I like as well as dislike. I certainly wouldn’t start off the way I did in my first book. I’d also put the time and the year. All I put in was the day and date. Later I added the year.

I wish I could think of more to type about right now, but I really can’t at the moment, so I think I’ll go listen to music for a while. Then I’ll be back later to gab about whatever comes to mind.

Later…

Tom’s getting ready to leave for work. Right now he’s taking a dump, then he’s gotta comb his hair.

I just fed the pigeons and all the other birds we get here. They’re sure a funny sight to watch. Every time I go out there for the first time that day, at whatever time I do, they’re waiting on the electrical lines. Then I feed them and they devour it up in no time. They’re like Piggy. Tom just saw how the pigeons were climbing over each other to get at the food just now.

Today I’m gonna dust, then tomorrow I’ll do the bathroom, then on Friday, I’ll do the vacuuming. That way I space it out.

Tom just left for work and now I think I’ll go do some singing.

Later…

I did some singing and I dusted the place. I don’t know what I’m gonna do right now. Maybe I’ll watch TV. The only thing on now is talk shows, though, and I don’t care to listen to pregnant 14-year-olds. I don’t feel like cleaning the bathroom or vacuuming either so I think I’ll go start cooking Tom some spag.

I’m pissed, by the way. I’m back to 102 pounds.

Later…

OK, I’ve got the spag cooking.

I can’t believe how cold it’s gotten so fast. It doesn’t warm up till the sun comes up. No more pool for sure this year!

I hope this Saturday and next Monday are fun for Tom and I. He reminded me this morning that those will be our days and he’ll be off those days. No doing what we need to do on those days, only what we want. I’d like to think that he’ll cum, but that wouldn’t be doing what he wants.

Sunday he’ll be working on Eldon’s computer for about 6 hours. Eldon’s giving him a VCR which we’ll use in the bedroom in place of the one that’s there cuz the one that’s there is shittier.

Let me go check the spag and stir it.

Holy fucking shit, no! How the fuck can I be 103? What the fuck did I do? I didn’t eat hardly shit. I ain’t eating till before bed. I have to eat before bed cuz I can’t fall asleep with a stomach growling with hunger. I’m pissed, though. Real fucking pissed!

Let me go stir the spag for the second time.

Now the scale says 102. This scale sure does fluctuate. Tom reminded me that that’s what scales do. Yeah, I know, but I wish they didn’t do that.

Well, I’m gonna go check out just what the topic of discussion is on the talk shows.

Later…

I just broke down and had some spag, but I’m sure that if I only have a milkshake and a granola bar before bed I’ll be OK.

The two talk show subjects were hooker moms and violent teens. No thanks.

It’s still a bummer, I guess, that I can’t sense Robin as I used to. Also, I’ll never be able to get Tom to do any real research as to how to find information about her, but I told you so.

He shocked me by saying how he was eager to do more back room work. We’ll see.

It’d be nice to have the use of my drawing table back. I just wish I could draw well enough to really enjoy using it. It’d be nice to go from doing a really good drawing every 20 drawings I do to every 10 drawings I do. I do admit, though, to not practicing nearly enough to get much better.

I left Andy a message and let him know that I hit journal 100. I also tried calling Kim but got her machine. I didn’t leave a message, though.

Did I mention finishing my medley? Next, I’ll do stuff of Gloria’s and Linda’s. I kind of want to fill both sides of the tape. That way there’s stuff I can listen to at any point in the tape if I want to listen to it. Something like that will also be good for when the new kids and dogs arrive next door. Especially if I want any peace in that room. You can hear the most from that room cuz it’s the closest room to them that hasn’t got the soundproofing stuff in it and you can hear out front towards their driveway just fine if they’re playing basketball. I noticed something weird about the basketball hoop. The thing looks like it’s been turned. I don’t know who would turn it and why, but the angle of it does seem different.

Later…

It’s getting to the point where it’s the same temperature outside as it is inside. It’s warmer in direct sunlight. Anyway, in another couple of hours, I’ll vent this place with the EC to bring in warmer air. It’s chilly in here. I mean, I have my socks on.

More talk shows are coming on, so I’ll go see what they’re all about.

Later…

It’s 8º warmer outside than it is in here, but when I ran the EC it didn’t warm it up at all.

I just did some more singing and I watched some more TV. Right now, I don’t know what I’m gonna do. I’m having one of those days where for the most part I’m bored. There are things I could do but I just don’t feel like doing them, so I’ll just be lazy for today.

What will I get in the mail today? Anything exciting? I hope to hear from Sarah sometime soon. It’s been a while and it’s her turn to write.

Well, I may as well go type up more of 99 now.

Later…

This is so cool. A new thing came with Windows 95 for the CD player. You can play CDs in either the order of the songs that are on the CD or in random order. I’m playing an old Gloria CD and first it played track 1, then track 7.

I was just working on 99 and it’s so cool how if I’ve got something I want to mention, I can just pull this journal up over it. All I have to do is click the file menu, then close this and journal 99 will be there where I left it.

Someone just called but I dropped the phone and disconnected them. It’s too early for Andy to be up, so it may have been a wrong number, some sales idiot or wacky Karson.

Now what track is it gonna play? I don’t hear anything right now. What happened?

I just restarted it in random order. The thing also has continuous play as well as the first 10 seconds of each song. Who would want to hear only the first 10 seconds of each song? It’s cool, anyway. At the bottom of the screen are little bars that list when you’ve got activated. The CD player is listed as well as the volume control. Tom plays the TV as loud as I do, but you have to have bionic ears to hear the music he plays.

Anyway, all you have to do is click on the bar of the item you want to do something with, then you can either put it back down there out of the way of what you’re doing or close it.

It just got done playing track 5 and now it’s playing track 8. It’s a neat surprise. I never know which song of hers on this CD will play next.

Why the hell am I so hungry today? I feel like I just want to gorge, but if I don’t do what I’m doing I won’t be able to eat all I want and not worry about it like I’ve been able to do these last 10 years. I probably still do have absolutely nothing to worry about, but I’m not gonna take that chance.

Now it’s playing track 4 which is ending, so, what will it play next? Track 10.

OK, now I’m really fucking mad! How the fuck can I weigh 104?! What the fuck am I doing wrong? Fuck it! I’m just gonna go pig out, then I’ll starve myself for sure. It seems that no matter if I exercise or what the fuck I eat I’m just not meant to have a flat tummy. I mean, I know it’s in my stomach. I could feel it just suddenly bloat out. What the fuck’s making it do that? I’m not constipated. I don’t feel gassy. My period is just about over. I’m not pregnant, so why? Why? Why? Why? Why?

Here’s track 9 now. Anyway, I’ll be back later after I pig out. Fuck my weight!

Later…

I just turned the EC on again to see if it’ll warm this place up. It’s definitely warmer outside.

Now it’s playing track 2.

Anyway, I think I’m done typing for the day and I’m gonna have some coffee and wind down. In another hour or two, I’ll be crashing. I still have plenty of time to make my schedule in a way that I can be up all day this Saturday. I’ll be letting Tom know when I’m mid-cycle every month. I want to see how long certain patterns go on. Of course, though, I’ll fib by a day or two.

TUESDAY, OCTOBER 24, 1995 I’ll have to ask Tom to turn up the thermostat on the water tank. I can’t get the water for baths or showers hot enough since it’s cooled down.

When I went out yesterday morning to feed the birds as the sun was coming up, it was freezing.

Andy sure has a big crowd at his place. I just called and right away he said he couldn’t talk, but thanked me for calling. So, I left him a message. At least he’s in a good mood and will probably call at some point during the night.

I’ve decided to use the remaining 12 pages in 91 to chart my asthma. Remember how I said I was using the peak flow meter? Well, Tom made a graphics chart so we can do it on the computer, too. I’m supposed to be at 415. I mean, that’s the best for a female my size, but I’m usually around 350.

Got mail from Kim today. A quick letter from her with 6 Bob letters. Nothing new or funny from Bob. Gonna go see if I got any email from Alex and maybe watch some TV. I should polish my nails, too.

Later…

I haven’t finished the medley yet, but I probably will during the night. I’m starting with a variety of artists, then I’ll do Gloria and Linda’s stuff.

Wow! Only 26 pages away from journal 100.

Jesus Christ! Remember how I had my upper or lower (I can’t remember which) wisdom tooth pop up or down for a day or two? Now my upper one is popping outward to the front right in the gum line.

I guess I don’t have to wake Tom up at 5:00, seeing that he just got up.

I still haven’t fired up the computer yet, so I think I’ll go do that.

Later…

I did some typing and some singing and worked some more on the medley.

Yup, the M’s moved out of state. Information only had one Dean M just outside Phoenix, but it was non-published. It could still be them, though, cuz if they’re hiding from anything or anyone, they may want a non-published number. If they moved to Idaho, he may be staying back with a friend or relative till the house sells. Tom says it’s not necessary to stay back till it sells, but who knows just what those weirdoes do?

Andy called this morning doing what he does best – discussing his problems with others. He had a fight with Pam. She supposedly scammed him by selling him shitty weed.

Still hanging in at 102. Of course, it’s best to lose weight slowly, so by mid-November I’d like to be 100. Perhaps 98 by my birthday.

Out of all the times it’s been easier to deal with never having a kid, this has been the best. I’ll probably always write about it and year after year I’ll probably always write about Tom’s not cumming and how he always says he will cum soon, then make excuses for why he didn’t, but at least I don’t feel like I’m gonna freak out, get all emotional and burst into tears. I guess I’ve just learned from past experiences not to fight what is or isn’t in the cards for me and to just accept whatever can and cannot be. Fighting for the ideal woman all those years which wasn’t meant to be and I knew wasn’t meant to be sure was exhausting. I don’t miss those exhausting, upsetting, and frustrating fights. It’s too soon to say how I’ll feel about fighting it out in a doctor’s office in ‘97, though.

Anyway, I’m a bit bored right now. I don’t really feel like doing any of the things I could do, like dust or vacuum. I’m not awake enough for that.

Also, speaking of fighting, I still can’t get up the nerve to pray to God cuz I’m not sure if it’s worth it with some of the shit that goes on in this world. The worst He can do is make sure we really never get any of the things we want, but what if He gets mad and makes shit go wrong? For example, Tom says that in God’s eyes, our having a child is morally correct. But how can He? If He really thought this, Tom wouldn’t be the way he is and we’d have one. I believe God considers it a definite no-no for me/us and in being persistent for one, I’m afraid of something happening. I feel like I’m asking for something that God’s shown me to be a very obvious no-no, not meant for me at all. Is it really bad or harmful to pray for something God won’t ever allow you to have? What do I do? Should I dare even take a chance?

I wish I could feel Robin more. I wish we could communicate more about more things.

How can I at least ensure myself that I’ll deal with it better and better with time and that I won’t return to constantly being hysterical about never having a kid? How can I get my husband to admit to his games and his never wanting a child? How can I ever get and keep a normal sleeping schedule? How can I ever quit smoking forever? My life could’ve been perfect if it weren’t for these things. Wouldn’t my life be perfect now if it weren’t for these 4 issues as well as the singing? Or would I have other problems instead to deal with? Would I just wish I could do or have other things instead? I wonder. At least it’s better than all the problems I used to have and there are a lot of people out there with a hell of a lot more and worse problems than I’ve got. Believe me, I know I really truly am very blessed. I understand that no one gets all they want. I know that’s not realistic, practical, possible or logical for anyone to get every single thing they want.

Later…

Oh, my God! I absolutely don’t believe it! My mother quit smoking 3 weeks ago. I would’ve bet my life that she’d never quit. She was as sure that she could never quit as I am that I can’t. I asked her if it really is swapping one misery for another and she said she thinks of smoking a lot, but it won’t be forever. She said she got really sick, had to go to the hospital, and then she gave the doctor her cigarettes and that was it. She went out and got a needlepoint kit to keep her hands busy.

I said we all have our weaknesses and strengths and that right now my weakness was not being able to quit smoking. Who knows, I told her, me and others thought I couldn’t do other things I’ve done, so maybe someday, and her answer was - that’s right. Anyway, I’m really happy for her.

Dad was bummed about how America’s Funniest Videos only played the tape for 10 seconds when he had 9 minutes of it and he thought the winners weren’t funny. I agree, but life isn’t fair. It’s sort of like the way the lottery works. You win if you already have money. You don’t win if you don’t have money.

I talked with Tammy too, who says all’s well.

Later…

I’m only gonna jot down a few things, then it’s off to bed cuz I’m beat.

I don’t understand. I’ve had a full period which still hasn’t completely stopped, I’m not constipated, I’ve hardly eaten, yet I’m still quite bloated.

I was sitting outside and it was so peacefully quiet. It’s great not to want to go out there, but worry that their dogs or kids will ruin the peace. Now I can concentrate on writing out there, doing word search puzzles, etc. I know, though, that it won’t last forever and that the noise will be back. I’m so lucky that no one’s moved in yet. I really thought that house would sell right away. For every quiet and peaceful day that goes by, I fear that all the more I will be severely compensated. If only I knew Robin wasn’t a hoax and that her spirit was real for sure and that she was right when she told me I have nothing to worry about. It would take some stress and worry off of me. Meanwhile, there’s no need for me to worry till the kids and dogs get there. Then I’ll deal with it. For now, I’ll just enjoy the peace till it’s shattered. I should’ve saved on the computer the letter I sent the M’s. I would have if I’d known they were gonna move since I’m gonna need it eventually.

For a while there it looked like I may hit 100 on the 8th anniversary of these journals, or writing I mean, but I guess I could hit 100 as soon as tomorrow.

MONDAY, OCTOBER 23, 1995 Shit, I just realized that by the time Halloween comes, I’ll probably be asleep when the damn trick-or-treaters are out. Even if we turn the lights off, someone may still be dumb enough to ring the bell or pound on the door. The doorbell wouldn’t wake me up but knocking probably will. Maybe I’ll throw the couch cushions into the music room, along with the fan, and crash there. The music room isn’t at the front of the house. Although, then again, I do believe I can recall sleeping fine through Halloween of ‘93 with the fan. We’ll just wait and see.

I’m really having a fuller period, so that’s good. I’m still hanging in at 102 pounds.

Later…

Tom’s sorting some electronic parts till the pork chops I’m making are done. I’m not eating any, though. I’ve had a TV dinner, some fried shrimp, a few mini blueberry muffins, and a granola bar. I’ll eat another granola bar before bed.

For a few minutes, Tom played his game last night. I played along too, as I don’t mind every now and then. I told him last night that getting down to 175 pounds didn’t seem to be something that was him. So he said he was gonna prove me wrong about that and the kid.

Uh-huh. Right.

It’s been quite a while since I’ve sensed Robin. I’ve even tried to reach her but to no avail. What was the purpose of what happened with Robin last July? Will I ever sense her as strongly again?

I rearranged my binders earlier and I have decided there’s no need for me to keep printing out the journals I type up. All I wanted was backup copies in a fireproof form. There’s no use in me using up so many ribbons and pieces of paper and binders which will take up so much space as time goes on. So, as of now, I’ve got 5 binders full of journals, 1 of letters and 1 of stories and 1 of a variety of things. Stuff like the edits, my songs, etc. Basically, all I’ll use binders for from here on out will be for letters.

I wonder if my planner has a hidden purpose for my writing journals. Could there truly be some unknown purpose? If I died right now, the only person who I could see reading them would be Andy. Tom would be busy or put it off forever. If we had had a kid and I died of old age, it probably wouldn’t be interested after living with me for about 18 years. Plus, if the kid was like most people it wouldn’t be interested in reading someone’s journals. I think most people would rather read regular story/education books.

Since we got a few more fonts a few months ago, I decided to go through them and make a list of the ones I like for Journal 100.

SUNDAY, OCTOBER 22, 1995 Today was a good day, even though I slept late. Tom had fun at the tracks today but didn’t win. He says his mom would really like for me to go sometime and that she and I would probably take the shuttle bus they have and go to a swap meet.

Tom and I started to play around with Andy’s 4-track and I even heard myself sing backward.

Andy was telling me how he’s only gonna get 6 free therapy sessions, then will have to pay for it. He’s only gonna take the 6 free ones. I know therapy can help, but he’s in a similar boat that I was in. A therapist can’t give him money and the man of his dreams. At least he’s in Arizona, has a nice roommate, a car, and can hold a job and schedule. I agree with Tom that he’s survived through worse shit and things will get better. I hope they do, anyhow, cuz he deserves it.

So far I’ve been 102 lbs all day today. Last night was weird, though. I fluctuated from 102-104. I weighed 104, ate a bowl of cereal cuz I was so damn hungry and then I weighed 102. Tom weighed 208, then ate bacon and Hamburger Helper then he weighed 212.

Today I sure flowed heavily, but I needed to since my last 3 periods were so light.

I told Tom I’d be flowing heavily for sure today so he thinks I’ll be mid-cycle on 11/5, but I really will be on 11/3.

In my letter to Bob, I asked him to make sure he let me know when he gets those puzzles and Robin’s story (Reunited Love). In his letter to me which he dated 10/17, he said he was “looking forward to getting the puzzles and my story.” Not, “I got your puzzles and story.” He should have gotten it by the 17th if I’m remembering correctly when I sent it so I hope to hell he gets it. I hope I didn’t put too little of stamps on it (I put no return address label on it) and I hope no guards stole it.

Later…

I’m almost done making the best medley I’ve ever made.

We just screwed on the couch. We both like the bed better, though. I couldn’t cum cuz I couldn’t reach enough of my clit due to the angle.

I took down 4 puzzles that I had hanging by nails and thumbtacks and put them back up with that two-sided sticky stuff. I have 8 more to redo but have to wait till we can get more of that stuff.

It’s a good thing I don’t care to constantly change wall decorations cuz once they go up, they’re not coming back down. Who knows how you remove this stuff?

Things have been OK with us which is nice. Last night he said again how things are ready to roll. He always says that and always will. At least things are fine the way they are right now. I think the only thing Tom should do is accept the fact that we are gonna need to go to a doctor to have a kid in ‘97 as long as he’s unwilling to cum. He denies this. He’s either in denial or knows he never plans on going through with going to a doctor in ‘97 and I sure as hell hope that isn’t the case. Not unless I decide for whatever reason that I don’t want one. What I think will happen in the long run (or between now and ‘97) is that he’ll either confess to never intending to have a child or he’ll cover it by saying he’s decided it’s not what he wants. This is what I really truly believe will happen. He’s not gonna very well stall it without giving me a reason after 4/1997. He’s got to come up with and tell me something.

FRIDAY, OCTOBER 20, 1995 Larry called Wednesday night, as I said before. I only spoke to him cuz Sandy, Larry and Jennifer were asleep. He loved the envelope I last sent him and he said he saved it. The one with the tiny colorful lines on the front and the: Oh no, Tammy called! On the back with changeable markers inside of musical notes. I just sent him another letter with flowers on the front and fish on the back. I also wrote, “This letter sent at 87º,” and then I drew a snowman with a long flowing scarf, sort of like a banner and on it, I wrote, “Are you ready for the snow?!” He said it was only 38º at the time we were talking.

He bought a trucking business. There are 10 trucks for starters that will be delivering all kinds of things nationwide. He won’t be driving, though, but may possibly have to come to Phoenix on a business trip. He’ll be in Florida this weekend on business and will be seeing Mom and Dad.

I’m shocked, but he said that if he is invited to Lisa’s bat mitzvah, he will go. Sandy probably won’t go.

I got a kick out of how he said he saw Dad on America’s Most Wanted. Now why didn’t I think of that one?

He also asked: Why do blondes have long tampon strings? The answer is: So that the crabs can go bungee jumping.

He and Tom said hello to each other, too. I think that’s basically all we chatted about, but if I remember more, I’ll write it in.

Later…

Tom asked me if I’d try going with no cigarettes for as long as I can on the 30th. I wish I could get him to cum regularly in exchange for it. In fact, he may find it a perfect opportunity and take advantage of that situation to cum once. Cuz then I’ll have to go 24 hours with no cigarettes, then he can go back to never cumming. Nah - he’s too stubborn to cum and very against that baby. Especially with us trying to go back east in May and money being kind of tight.

He better not lie about cumming, though, before the 15th. Maybe he’ll cum by my hand. That way I can see it and it can’t get me pregnant. I’ve given up on trying so many different things to make him cum. I’ve also given up on trying to discourage it too, cuz usually when you try to encourage/discourage him one way, he goes the other way and has admitted this.

I’ll just wait and see if I can get him in to see a doctor in 17 months. This deal, though, really has helped to give me peace of mind and to make me less anxious, stressed out and trapped. All that could happen is that he could refuse to see a doctor when the time comes or stall it.

Later…

OK, I’m now in between spotting and fully flowing, so I guess it’s enough to consider myself at mid-cycle on the 3rd of November. However, I’ll let Tom know it fully began on the 22nd, which it wasn’t supposed to till then anyway. This is the 3rd month in a row of getting my period early. At least I had no bad emotional PMSing. I did mention having a little more than spotting and he suggested I not mark it till the 22nd, so he’ll believe I’m mid-cycle on Nov. 5th. I wonder how it works. I think that even though I’m only a little beyond spotting that it still does count as the start of my period. Anyway, I marked it in 83 as beginning today, but we’ll see how he acts on both the 3rd and the 5th of Nov.

We screwed earlier since he can’t go down on me for a while cuz of the crotch cream. First we tried doggie style which didn’t work, as it never has with me. So, we screwed in our regular position, and as always, he stopped when I came. He really acted like he felt left out, but personally, I think it was all an act. Don’t get me wrong. He chooses to be left out, but he brought up wishing he could be taken care of and how he doesn’t always have to stop just when I cum. Then why did he? I believe he’s only saying this cuz I’ve mentioned how sex is only for me. Sometimes he feeds off of what I say. However, I’ve gotten used to our sex being the way it is, as I’ve come to accept that it is the way it is and that it’ll never change. Especially what with knowing we can go to a doctor for a kid in ‘97. I’d have preferred to get the kid the old-fashioned way, but this is how it’ll be unless there’s something irreversibly wrong with me, or if he comes out and tells me he really doesn’t want a kid and that he’s sorry he led me on and let it get this far, or if he puts his actions where his mouth is and he cums.

Dr. Rausch reminded me that it’s important to get a negative pap with my being DES-exposed. That, I feel may either never happen or may take forever to achieve, but when I call to make an appointment with Dr. Rugg I’ll mention being mid-cycle to Tom on the 5th and that I’ll try to get as close to that as I can.

Later…

Yes, I officially have a normal period going here. Good. It’ll make me feel better. I could use a normal heavier period for a change.

I am so very accurately psychic when it comes to periods and Tom’s cumming. I know I’ll win our bet. I know I’ll get periods in November and December. Part of it is logic too, Tom’s actions, and the way God works.

Last Wednesday, Law & Order was a new episode, so I guess they had a problem of some kind with the previous show.

Later…

Shit! My body’s acting like it did 10 years ago when I’d barely eat and gain weight or stay the same. Up till recently I could gorge and stay the same weight. All day yesterday I was 104 and here’s what I ate: one TV dinner, 1½ Slim-Fast milkshakes, one granola bar, popcorn and coffee.

When I got up today I was 103 till an hour ago and all I had today was: 2 pork chops, a baked potato, half a Slim-Fast shake, a yogurt, a granola bar and coffee (sour cream & margarine with my baked potato).

So why the hell am I back to 104 when I’m not constipated and am ragging?! I must do what I did 10 years ago and starve for 3 days to shock my system, and speed up my metabolism, then hopefully I won’t have to worry even though I’m nearly 30 and not 19.

Later…

I just did a little test on the computer. Earlier I was copying and pasting my songs into the file that’ll be Journal 100, but it wouldn’t let me print them out without popping up a message to me saying there was an error in that application. This made me fear I wouldn’t be able to type a page in jour100 and print it out, but luckily I had no problem. I typed up a page, printed it out, then threw it in an NPN envelope.

THURSDAY, OCTOBER 19, 1995 Three more days till my period. Great. Then I can get some of this water off of me and my tits won’t be so sore. In a way, I wish my periods weren’t so light. I know that’d call for more cramps, but it may help my tits to be less sore and it may help me be less watery. Plus, there’s always Ibuprofen for the cramps.

I know Tom really wants to go back east this May. I can tell it means a lot to him, therefore, all the more reason why I know he’ll never cum. It means a lot to me too, and if I were pregnant now, then who knows how many more years it’d be before we went to see them.

Also, money’s tight now. We’re far from starving and he says we can afford a kid, but I’m not so sure.

I believe he wants a kid (or at least I want to believe he does), but I believe much, much more so, that he’s having fun playing this game and will play it till ‘97. Then, he’ll no doubt stall on making a doctor’s appointment which will probably stop me from wanting to go to a doctor, then it’ll be over.

I’m still having an easier time dealing with not having a kid ever, due to our agreement as silly as I know that is. I’ll never be able to get this guy in to see a doctor with me. No, I’m not gonna bring up the injection to the doctor tomorrow. I’ll just let Tom play his game. It’ll only be for 17½ more months.

I told him, though, that on 11/15, he’s gonna have to face the fact that he can’t win our bet and I’m not giving him another month, cuz he’ll ask for another month until the day he dies.

Damn! I’ve been having a bad lung day and night. It had been fine for the last 2-3 days. Maybe it’s the oil paintings. I swear that shit will never dry. I also finished the fish mural and sprayed clear spray paint over that.

Later…

I’m in the bedroom now and this room still smells of paint.

Tom’s going to the racetrack with his folks on Saturday to try to further his luck, and he wanted to show them our paintings. However, I’m not so sure they’ll be dry even by then.

During an episode of Little House on the Prairie yesterday afternoon, a commercial came on to order videos of the show. So, I called their 800# and they didn’t ask for a credit card and told me they’d send a bill later. So, hopefully in 3-4 weeks, it’ll get here.

Tom may do computer work for Eldon this Sunday since I’ll be asleep for most of the day.

Anyway, Andy was over, as I said earlier. Tom and I were experimenting with the 4-track he lent us when Larry called.

Andy liked the paintings, the fish art, and he really thought the giant cat was way cool. I showed him journals he hasn’t seen, as well as Dad and another video. He too, got a kick out of people’s clothes and hairstyles from nearly 30 years ago.

We sat outside on the bench swing and talked while Piggy was down by our feet eating grass.

I also helped him find some notes and chords to a song he wrote using the keyboard and the guitar.

He says he can see that I’ve gained weight. Well, believe me, I intend to do something about it. Being fat is part of being a mom for the most part, but I’m never gonna be a mom, so I have no reason or excuse to weigh 104 pounds. At 104 I look 120. At 100 I look 115 and at 95 I look 110, so I guess I’d like to get down somewhere between 95-100.

Tom says periods are a way of cleaning a woman’s body and that minor infections are usually flushed out by periods. Either way, I want it gone and I don’t want to be infected constantly like I used to be. Especially during times I was sexually active. I may have a husband with a low sex drive, but I still hope I’m not paying for and being compensated by the few times we manage to get together here and there. When I asked Tom if God was getting me due to wanting a kid, he said he wouldn’t get me over something natural and morally correct. Well, if it’s so natural and morally correct, why won’t he let Tom let himself cum and let me have one?

Anyway, I gave Andy back the pink lace shirt to give to Pam. Also, about 12 NPN envelopes for him to mail.

Only 60 pages left, then I can begin typing the coyote one. Can’t believe I’m 60 pages away from journal 100!

I’ll write up on my chat with Larry some other time. I’m a little tight-lunged right now and I just want to go relax.

Later…

The doctor’s appointment went OK today. He told me to take an extra 6 hits a day of the Azmacort if I’m having trouble. Last night I sure was tight and wheezy. He also recommended stuff for downstairs, so I got over-the-counter stuff. I also had a flu shot in one arm and a pneumonia shot in the other.

They weighed me at 105 pounds, even though I’ve shit and only had one granola bar and one TV dinner. So, I got 6 Slim-Fast shakes and am on a diet till I get between 95-100. I don’t understand my gaining weight when none of my habits have changed and I can’t be pregnant. Even Andy noticed although he says I still look OK and I still look solid. Could it be related to stopping the Theo? Maybe it’s just age. They say around 30 is when a woman begins to fall apart (unless she’s had a kid before then). Infections down there can bloat a woman, so hopefully after I use the cream and get my period, I won’t be such a balloon.

I’m coughing up shit now, so that means that I’ll probably be sneezing tomorrow.

An EC was put on next door. Tom says there’s no way it’ll cool the whole house cuz it looked small.

Tom agrees with me that there’s no chance the place will be empty for a year. The weather’s been very warm for this time of year. In the 90s, rather than the 80s, so once it cools down another 10º - 15º, I’m sure the kids and dogs will move in then. It’s still October, though. An unlucky month in some cases around here. October’s when the M’s moved in and when the music crowd gave their concerts 2-4 times a week for nearly 6 months.

I found a better way to put up my puzzles, rather than to tack or nail them up. There’s this clear gel-like stuff that’s sticky on both sides. When I use this, it sags less. I may take down about 12 of them and put them back up using this stuff. If we ever do move and they get ruined - fine. I’ll just start a new collection.

WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 18, 1995 I’m pissed. I have another infection downstairs and Tom has sores in his mouth. Another thing to get in the way of our sex life. Also, I feel so punished. What did I do to get another infection so soon? How can I stop them from coming so frequently? Is this my punishment for having sex whenever we do, and wanting more sex when obviously something doesn’t want us having more sex? Is this my punishment for wanting a child?

Till today Tom’s been saying he didn’t think I had an infection, but I just knew it before it flared up. My woman’s instinct really is accurate, so I know I’m gonna be right about us needing to see someone in ‘97, even though he says we aren’t gonna need to. Luckily, though, I have an appointment with Dr. Rausch tomorrow so hopefully, he can take care of it. Hopefully, he won’t have to give me an exam. Eventually, he or Dr. Rugg will probably want to do an exam, though.

Andy came over today. He brought his 4-track recorder to lend us to create whatever with.

TUESDAY, OCTOBER 17, 1995 Tom just got home and will be watching TV for 2-3 hours.

I didn’t finish writing about the oil painting stuff cuz I got lazy. Tom and I did our first painting together of a mountain with a lake and pine trees. They weren’t the best, but they came out pretty good for beginners. I hate pine trees, but they sure are fun and easy to do. The same with grass. I thought grass was painted by spending weeks going over every little detail. Not so, though. All you do is tap the brush onto it. It’s easier than drawing grass, cuz then you have to stroke out each individual blade.

The second picture I did was a winter scene. Again, I hate those, but they’re easier to do. There are only two things about this one I don’t like. The snow has too much blue in it cuz the Turpenoid is dirty and I couldn’t clean the blue off the brush well enough, then load it with just the white. Also, the tree I did, in the end, looks like a tree a first-grader would do. In the first picture, my background trees didn’t come out too well.

My third picture was of 3 pine trees that I did on a very small piece of stretched canvas, (stretched over a wooden frame) smaller than this book.

I’ll be back to write about Kim and Andy after a cig.

Later…

Kim sent me a letter on pretty paper with musical notes. It had a matching envelope. She enclosed Bob’s letter, the one she read to me which he happily took advantage of her sharing her “sexual” fantasies, and wrote all about his. Also, she enclosed 11 stamps. That was really nice of her.

I may have forgotten to mention this, but she’ll be sending a video someone shot of her skating at a roller-skating rink with Doug in Vernon, CT that I can keep. I’ll be looking forward to that. Eventually, I’ll send Kim and Alex a video of stuff we’ve already recorded in and around the house, as well as Dad and me at age 4 at Passover.

Later…

Andy called today with some interesting news. Yesterday he was at an intersection when the light turned green. He didn’t go, though, and two cars from the left and the right came flying out of nowhere. They didn’t even slow down when their light was yellow. Wow. I asked him why he didn’t go and said, “I don’t know. I guess I was just very aware cuz of the dream.”

Something sure was looking out for him saying it wasn’t his time. I told him to make sure he told me if he ever has a dream with me and Tom in it. Wouldn’t that be a trip if he had a dream I was pregnant? I know it wouldn’t mean anything, but it would be funny.

MONDAY, OCTOBER 16, 1995 Tom’s home now and is eating and watching TV to clear his mind from the stressful drive home.

I am happy to say, though, that Tom finally mowed and did the sink.

I do have a lot to write about, so I better keep going so I don’t get backed up.

We saw Dad last night on America’s Funniest Videos. He was only on for about 10 seconds, but it was cool. Andy didn’t get to see it, so I’ll show him our copy when I see him. Eventually, I’ll mail Kim a tape of stuff we’ve already taped, along with Dad. Anyway, the bird went into my father’s mouth up to its neck and was chirping.

Later…

I asked Tom why he didn’t hit me for sex when we returned on Sunday. He said his leg was hurting all day. I believe him, but I still say there’s an outer source of some kind out to make sure sex is infrequent as well as the same as it’s always been.

Earlier, though, he walked on the treadmill for about 20 minutes to try loosening the stiff muscle. Then he went down on me before bed.

Sunday we went to the art store and here’s what we got:

A small tabletop easel

8 tubes of oil paint - Van Dyke Brown, Alizarin Crimson, Phalo Blue, Titanium White, bright red and yellow & green.

A putty knife (it’s not really shaped like a putty knife, though)

Liquid white (basecoat)

Turpenoid (you can’t clean these brushes with soap & water)

A 1” brush, 2” brush, a fan tip brush and a liner

2 big canvases, 2 medium canvases and 3 small canvas boards

It all came to $96.85.

SATURDAY, OCTOBER 14, 1995 Yesterday I talked with Kim and Andy.

Kim sent me a letter with about 4 letters she got from Bob which were boring. No classic lines like the bunk bed incident. She read me Bob’s letter she got in response to the fantasy letter she wrote to him. She’s finally playing with his head. Bob totally fell for it and is on cloud 9. He asked her to tell him more fantasies and asked her sexual questions.

I don’t know if I wrote about the letter I’ll be sending him, but I’m going to be telling him that someone refusing to give me their name and tell me how they got my name and number called me. They say they have a relative who’s an inmate there who’s gonna bust his way into Bob’s pants.

Anyway, Tom went down on me last night and was in a fine mood when I got up. He even mentioned doing the yard and asked me if I could clear out the sink so he can bleach it, so we’ll see. He’s at the racetrack now with his parents. Before he left we both screwed and had oral sex. I won the bet as I knew I would.

Now, if we have sex regularly enough with no fights, I’ll fool him again and say I got my period a day or two sooner to see if I’m avoided mid-cycle. I don’t understand why he’d need to avoid me, though, since he won’t cum.

Last night before going down on me, he was in long enough to take care of himself, but not before sex today. He did go in right after to shower, so he probably got it out of his system then.

Last night I got to thinking. I said to myself, OK, the baby desires have been easier to deal with since our agreement, but it’s my brain! Therefore, I should be the one to control its thoughts and desires. I really wish I didn’t want to be a singer or have a kid, even in the smallest way. My life would then be so much easier and sex wouldn’t be frustrating. Don’t get me wrong, though, it’s still rather humiliating for him not to cum at least every other time to show me he’s pleased by me besides just saying he is.

I know I’ve painted a horrible picture of Tom over the last several journals, but believe me, other than his sex/baby games he’s a wonderful person. If he weren’t, I wouldn’t be here and the security and things he provides me with that I need or want wouldn’t matter.

Later…

Another dream has come true. I always wanted a typed journal. I mean with a cover and of this size, not the typed versions of my journals on full sheets of paper in binders. I keep calling the coyote journal a wolf, but it is a coyote. Anyway, that’s the spiral one I just got. Tom and I tried to set the margins properly, but he was on his way out. On his way out, though, he said, “You’re a smart girl. So, you figure it out, then you can teach me.”

I was like, “Me? Teach you something about the computer?” Well, I am proud to say that I did figure it out on a piece of paper I cut to the same size the pages are in that book. Then, I detached a piece that I typed up and put back in the book. It looks oh-so professional. As if I bought the book that way, and I can’t wait to show him.

Later…

Tom was quite impressed with the typed page I did in the coyote book. I’m gonna make a change, though. Instead of doing the remainder of the journals my parents sent next, I’m gonna type the coyote next, do the fish book, then the other two my parents sent (the dog & angel).

Tom says he should have our sex bet extended another month. I told him he’ll always need another month. He said things are starting to get so much better, though, that he feels it’ll be no problem. He’ll always say that, too.

I do feel, though, that things will be better between us and that’s what we both want. There’s really nothing left to fight about anyway. He knows how I feel and I know how he feels.

The day’s gotten even better since I last wrote. Tom won $300 at the racetrack! He filmed a few races, too. He didn’t film his parents or himself cuz he wanted to wait till I was there. I made a deal with him that I’d go with him once a year when the weather cools down.

Tomorrow we’re gonna go shopping for art supplies. He said he doesn’t want to get anything cuz the only thing he wants is too expensive.

Also, we got a letter today from a big company that distributes all kinds of software and shareware. What they say they may do is put the PrintBIG program on a disk with other programs. We won’t get any money for it, but we’ll get a free copy of this disk and more exposure. They’ll let us know after we sign an OK form.

I saw two paint shows this morning that I have saved on tape. The first one was of a woman using acrylic paints and painting roses and Santa. It really didn’t look too hard.

I really loved the second show even better. The guy’s name is Bob Ross who’s done this show for 11 years. He uses oil paints and in a half-hour, he painted this ugly, yet amazing and beautifully done winter scene.

I want to try oil painting so badly. We need to buy paints, brushes, poster boards, a palette, and an easel tomorrow.

Someone was next door earlier, but it was probably the Realtor and maybe a kid of his. Earlier there was cardboard up over all of the windows which is weird. Now the blinds are back up, but they’re shut.

Here we go again. I’ve got to compete with that damn TV while he insists there was no opportunity. He said his leg was stiff all day and that may be true, but God! I swear this guy has got the aches and pains of an 80-year-old. From what I remember, his leg didn’t get stiff till well after we returned from shopping and he could’ve initiated sex before that.

FRIDAY, OCTOBER 13, 1995 Got up at 8 AM, but am already getting tired.

Dad left a message. They didn’t make the top 3 but they’ll be on America’s Funniest Home Videos this Sunday.

THURSDAY, OCTOBER 12, 1995 I don’t believe it, but then again I do. The week before last they aired the first new Law & Order show with the new pig. Last week it wasn’t on due to some special. This week’s TV guide said the second new show would be on, but no. They had to put on an old show instead.

Tom and I are doing better, but there are still a few things that bug me and confuse me. What else is new, huh? It seems the more I ask him to do little things, the less he does them. I asked him nicely at a time when he wasn’t busy if he could please bleach the kitchen sink since bleach bothers me. He said he would, but I know him. I know him. He hasn’t done it and he never will as long as I mention it. Maybe he likes to be asked the same thing a few times around. Maybe he just doesn’t care. The bulk of his words just don’t go with his actions.

Last night I asked to make two compromises with him. 1. For him to clean the back room if my parents ever came out, and I’d smoke outside unless it was storming. 2. For him to not trash the house if we ever move, and I’ll never smoke inside no matter how the weather is. Shortly after he got home and worked on the back room until he went to bed. See? It’s either work or sex with the guy. He can’t mix the two. I also felt like he was punishing me. Cuz I asked about the back room, he wouldn’t have sex with me. Yet he says he feels spited and punished? I feel that enough of the time.

Last night I woke him up cuz I was angry and confused over some of our conversations. He cleared up what I misunderstood, but was pissed. I agree I should’ve spoken up earlier, but I’m almost sure he’d have been pissed then, too. It’s like it’s getting harder for me to talk to him without him getting emotional. Our argument didn’t last long and things were fine shortly after. He was watching TV, then came in to turn his alarm off. Some of his behavior is still asinine and unnecessary. The reason why he turned off his alarm was cuz he had no intention of going back to bed which was so stupid and neither of us was still upset. I feel he did it to be more tired, so it would be all the more obvious that we were not having sex. All he needs to do, though, is just not initiate it. He does that a lot of the time anyway and is quite capable and good at it. I told him that if we didn’t have sex over the next few days, I’d try not to accuse him of punishing me. His answer was for me to try to remember that. See? That tells me that yes, he’s already made up his mind that we won’t have sex for several days and he won’t even wait and see if he’s caught up on his sleep to perhaps have it after work tomorrow. We’re back to the same old shit of occasional sex over shit that’s done and over with. And he says to move forward after a bad day and that the next day is a new day? He oughta practice what he preaches.

He says he’s not “evil” and that he’s not trying to deliberately dupe me in any way, but could even someone who hasn’t had my past experiences not be so pessimistic, defensive and paranoid?

Why me? I ask this again and again. Why do I always have to have some weird, strange, different or abnormal situation to deal with? Can’t things just be normal? Can’t Tom just be like other guys? I once thought I could never have even the smallest dick inside me, but 3 months later after trying, I got over it. Why can’t he get over his fear of cumming? Why can’t he get over this so-called block, whatever it is? True that he doesn’t say he can’t like I did, but I don’t see him try like I did.

I just can’t help but believe by his actions that everything he says is a joke and that he really wants none of the things he says he does. Not the kid, not the music, not the business. He says the Robin case isn’t over but I know it is. What about the business he says he wants so badly? If he wants it so bad, then why hasn’t he shown me anything to do yet?

And he isn’t trying to make me wait on things?

I shouldn’t have read my story onto a tape. First of all, he’s not gonna listen to it. Secondly, I should give him right back what he gives me. I should’ve never done it or waited for several months. I should’ve made it a joke like the bee and cigarette machine and so very much more.

Will he ever film me signing all those signs I typed up? No. I will never ever do any more big projects for him unless I want to do it. I don’t care how selfish that sounds, either.

Remember all those computer magazine articles I typed up over a year ago? He’s never touched them.

Later…

I haven’t prayed, so why the desire to have a kid is easier to deal with, beats me. Maybe it’s cuz of our agreement, but I like and need it to be easier. I have a very strong feeling, though, that if I said nothing until the end of April of ‘97, he won’t bring it up till I do. I also have a very strong feeling that if I truly decide by April of ‘97 that we shouldn’t bother, he won’t utter more than a quick “OK.” He won’t be urging me to change my mind. He won’t put up one second’s worth of a fight if I do say that. He won’t shed one tear or say, “Too bad.” If I truly decide to forget about it, it’ll only be due to his actions which shows he doesn’t want it. I can’t and won’t force him to be a father.

During a moment of frustration about a month ago, I said I didn’t want a kid and his answer cracked me up. He said, “I’m not gonna make you have a kid, so tell me if you don’t really want one so I can see to it that we don’t.”

Oh, but I think he’s done a fine job of seeing that we don’t since our very first screw. Like we have anything to worry about?

Two days ago, we finally had oral sex. He was in the bathroom for about 15 minutes before going down on me. Long enough to relieve himself, and he never wanted to screw.

Later…

I just left Andy a message telling him of our agreement and how Tom feels we won’t need to see a doctor, but I do unless one or both of us decide to forget it. I asked him to let me know if he feels we won’t need a doctor, we will need a doctor and go to one, or we will need a doctor, but not go to one.

Yesterday they put new carpet down next door, but I haven’t seen anyone there today. Just a guy leave at 8:00 this morning. They left there with 5 little kids and waited till now to recarpet? Especially with the way kids destroy things? Tom says they’re really having trouble selling the house so they’re doing stuff to improve it.

I forgot to mention that there’s a gorgeous, modern 2-bedroom house for only about 50 grand next to Tom’s parent’s house that’s been for sale for a year. Oh, how I’d love for the house next door to be for sale that long! I still have a feeling it’ll sell by the time it gets cool enough for kids to be out 24/7. Right when I go to do the block wall their kids and dogs will be raising hell in the backyard. Or maybe the kids will be out front. It seems that kids play in the front of their houses more so out here. The longer it’s vacant, the better, but as each day passes that it’s vacant, I fear harsher compensation.

For over a year I haven’t heard the dog across the street. But very occasionally (less than next door’s dogs were on their quietest days) I hear it. Coincidence? Nah - God’s gotta do something.

Tom says they may have gotten a rare and great deal on a bigger house if the M’s stayed here and that’s why they split. Yeah, she’s probably pregnant with the 7th kid by now. I still feel they may have been up to something. It’s one thing to have such a large family that you can’t afford to go anywhere other than to church on Sundays, but they obviously never even went to parks or places that were free.

Later…

Better one of us than none of us, but it seems to me I’m the one that comes up with ideas to help us. Would we be sleeping in the same room if I hadn’t thought to put the beds side by side? I doubt it. Would we ever go to a doctor if I hadn’t thought of that? Almost certainly not.

My smoking habits are still the same, but my schedule flipped back to days pretty fast this time. For the last 3-5 mornings, probably more, I’ve been getting up between 6-8 AM.

Tom’s home now so I’ll write more later. I’ll have plenty of time to since we won’t be screwing around.

Later…

Tom went to bed a half-hour ago, but that’s good so he’ll have 12 hours to catch up on his sleep. He might even wake up before 5 AM.

We discussed loading all my journals into one big file so the computer can make the journal index I had started.

Later…

How fucking frustrating! Why can’t I just be one of those who draws what she sees? I wish I could be like Nancy H and Tara T were yet I can very seldom do a decent enough drawing.

Now I’m gonna write about a discussion I had with Andy yesterday. He’s told me that he’s had experiences with déjà vu during his dream state, but very rarely of danger. He says it usually involves everyday stuff, but this dream was different. He had it a week ago, and I have no bad vibes, so that’s good. In his dream, he saw two cars plow into him at an intersection. He’s pretty sure he didn’t survive it and it appeared to him that it was painless and that his soul was released. He saw all this in his dream from an aerial view.

TUESDAY, OCTOBER 10, 1995 Now I can finally try to begin to catch up on all that’s been going on. I really need to make myself write during my tough times when my thoughts are fresh in my head. I’ll try now to go through each day and explain what happened and how I felt and why I felt the way I did.

I had a case of mild diarrhea. My stomach felt like a Theodur belly cuz I was nerved up and hadn’t had too much sleep.

One of the biggest factors that made me upset during different parts of the long weekend (yesterday was Columbus Day) was how much I felt Tom was punishing and teasing me with the issue of sex, and how I felt that the TV was more important than me. I told him if he’s teasing me with sex I’ll tease him right back. I asked him why he couldn’t watch TV for a while, then take 45 minutes or so out to have sex or at least just cuddle before moving on to do computer work.

So he went on to explain certain things about himself so that I could better understand him and he told me that what I do with that information is up to me. After all this time, he finally comes out and tells me that my taking the phone off the hook before sex turns him off cuz it’s another thing that’s too planned.

Everything turns him off, though, trust me. He said it’s not fun for him to have things be in planned steps. Like turning off the ringer, turning the fan on, etc. He not only wants sex to be spontaneous, but he wants all that revolves around it not to be so planned either. He also wants to not know where our cuddling will lead to. Meaning, he doesn’t want to know that it’ll always necessarily lead to sex.

I told him I do understand this but that there’s still always something turning him off, there’s always an excuse and I don’t feel he’s putting that much effort into upping the frequency of sex, yet he sits there and tells me he loves to have sex with me cuz he loves me and is attracted to me. I feel that he’s had plenty of opportunities to initiate sex at different times throughout the weekend. After he comes home from work, eats, unwinds and digests, why can’t he initiate it then? Why does he have to watch TV and do computer work? TV and computer work is fine, but if he really wanted to, he could squeeze time for us in between this.

I do have some very good and amazing news that’ll shock you as much as it shocked me. News that really gives me more peace of mind and has me feeling less at a dead-end and up against a wall. Well, I got him to agree that if I’m not pregnant by April of ‘97 we’d go to a doctor Now this may sound good, but I’m sure there’s a catch knowing him and how he loves to procrastinate. He was gonna mow the lawn Saturday. Yeah, right. At least he planted the daisy seeds. Anyway, knowing him, who knows how long he’ll stall on making the doctor’s appointment when we do get to April of ‘97? Also, who knows if a doctor can really help us? What are they gonna do? Stick a needle in his balls, draw his cum out and shove it up me? Nonetheless, this agreement has me feeling much better. All I have to do is make sure he sticks to it. He promised to and I’m gonna make sure he does keep this promise. Then again, I may feel in April of ‘97 that I’m pushing the guy to do something he really doesn’t want to do, even though he says differently, and let him off the hook. Maybe I’d feel too guilty to make him keep this promise. Not to mention how mad, depressed and led on I may feel, too. Or maybe the best thing that could happen will happen and neither of us will want a kid at all. Still, this has made it easier to deal with. I told him that the only thing that had me wondering was the fact that he chose 18 months. That seems like a long wait for someone that says they want a kid. He told me that April of ‘97 seems so long to me cuz I feel it’ll get to the point where we’ll have to go to a doctor, whereas he doesn’t feel we will have to see a doctor I know it’ll come to that point and by the time I can get him to make the appointment, get in to see a doctor, and hopefully get something done about it, we’re talking two years or more.

Then he goes on to say that I get my way with almost everything which isn’t true, otherwise we’d have a kid, we’d be in business full-fledged, I’d be a singer and all the things we said we were gonna do would be done including the back room which I know he never really had any intention of doing since day one, regardless of what he says. Maybe cuz he feels this way is another reason for him to deliberately stall on things we say we want or I say I want, along with forcing me to be patient and unspoiled. He tells me that I imagine these things about him, but up till now, it’s still hard for me to believe that I could have such a wild and active imagination due to his actions. What else would anyone think?

If he plans to cum at any point, at this time I’d say he’d start doing so at the beginning of ‘97.

The longer we go without sex, though, the easier it is in my mind to just keep it that way. I didn’t truly want to give up on our sex lives, but like I told him, if it’s just gonna cause fights and be the same old shit that’s not too frequent but filled with excuses and turn-offs, then I don’t want any part of it. He says we’ve got to break the cycle of how we screw, then we fight, then we screw, then we fight. Well, maybe if he’d make more time for it, not have so many excuses and turn-offs and weird quirks about it and show me he really appreciates what I do to him by cumming every now and then and put some effort into trying for a kid, we won’t fight as much. This does seem to be the only thing we do fight about, after all. That and his procrastinating and being a slob. I know he doesn’t appreciate some of the ways I talk too, but I’m not perfect either. I just hope we can both work on these issues together and make them better once and for all.

If we have sex before I’m mid-cycle next month, I’ll have to do my little test again. I’ll tell him I got my period a day before I really do and see if he avoids me or only does oral sex to me 14 days after I say I started my period. I know it wouldn’t matter even if we screwed when I was really at that 14-day marker since he won’t cum, but I want to see how much longer this already lengthy pattern continues.

Yesterday we got along much better and got out of here. We went to his parent’s house. First we went to get frames for two oil paintings done by some relatives of theirs who live in Michigan. They were beautiful and I’d really like to be able to do this. Tom and Ma said they didn’t see why I couldn’t with my ability to draw and Tom said that there’s a show that shows them do an oil painting of the same size of 12 x 16 in half an hour. I’m surprised that all it takes is half an hour. I thought it’d take weeks. I’d like to do scenery including palm trees, and cactuses, then eventually something like ballerinas, teddy bears and flowers. So, after Tom got them into their frames, he went out to help his dad work on one of their cars.

While they did that, me and ma hung one of the pictures since one’s going to someone else, and I glued a chain onto a stained glass hanging she had.

She gave me a thick foam-like thing to slip my pen into. This way, when my right index fingernail grows out, it won’t dig into my thumb.

She also showed me the kitchen seat cover she made. Their kitchen chairs are just like ours and I’ve been wanting to make coverings for them since they’re old and beat up. She told me there’s a place called Sass that has really cheap material and some of the elastic I’d need for the seat part so it fits snugly over the seat part.

Lastly, she had a big wide ugly oil painting of an ocean scene that had been on her living room wall since I’ve known them and she gave that to me to use to try painting on. You can paint over the old paint.

So, after we were there for a little over an hour, Tom dropped me off at home, then went back to his parent’s to work on the car for a few hours.

When he came back, we went to a bookstore. I got a really cute fish one with prisms on it and then a hard-covered one with a spiral side. I studied it carefully and it looks like I can definitely detach the papers, print them out, then put them back on the spiral part with no problems.

FRIDAY, OCTOBER 6, 1995 Tom’s doing what he does 80% of the time he’s home - watching TV. I told him there’s nothing wrong with doing something he enjoys, but he complains he doesn’t have enough free time to get things done. I told him he should do stuff while he watches TV. He can play the TV on the computer while working on whatever in the back room.

He says he wants to get back into having sex again, but it seems the TV’s more important. I think he’s getting me back for not wanting sex with him for a while. I really was having fun teasing him with it and giving him a taste of his medicine for making me feel teased with you know what for so long. Also, as fun as sex can be for me, it always hurt me emotionally.

We made a couple of decisions yesterday. I fully intend to live up to what I agreed to, but he better live up to his end and not make me a naïve, foolish sucker in the end! What he agreed to is that we can see a doctor in about a year if I still can’t get pregnant. After a year, he better not keep stalling. If it’s ever not what he wants I’d rather be hurt by him telling me that than be hurt by him leading me on.

I realized, though, after we made this deal that I could have given him a reason to keep holding off for another year. If he really does want one, but planned all along to wait, he could be saying to himself, “What a perfect opportunity to wait another year and I’ll cum right before it’s time to go to the doctor cuz there’s no need for me to see a doctor when I could cum all along.”

If he really doesn’t ever want one, I hope he’ll be pressured into telling me soon enough cuz he can’t keep making excuses for why he doesn’t cum for too many years. I just hope I don’t get hurt by this one in the end, although it makes me feel so much better that he’s agreed to this and more hopeful. I still say that if our unfair God does grant us a child it’ll be years from now.

I wish I could take that injection till he cums. Tom said it’s my body so it’s up to me, but that it’d make it harder for him to cum cuz he’d be upset over not having a family. Then once he came and I stopped the injection he said he’d feel pressured to make a baby. I asked him why he didn’t feel pressured now about making a baby and he says he’s getting over it. Yeah, it really shows! I think the real reason he prefers me not to get the injection is so he can tease me with the issues of cumming and a baby. If I had the injection, all he could tease me with would be the cumming issue.

Andy and I were right after all on a couple of predictions we made. About a week ago I told Tammy that I had a bad vibe concerning Bill, but nothing too serious. Sure enough, she told me yesterday that Bill has a bad cold.

A couple of days ago Andy said he sensed some form of mail that’d make me happier than usual, but he didn’t know what. He said maybe a 20-page letter from Sarah or Gloria’s intro kit. I asked Tammy if she’s sending me any mail and she said next week probably. Great! I hope it’s a video of them and in and out of their house. According to her, a lot has changed with the house.

Gloria just released a new album on September 26th. God, she’s fast! I don’t get how she’s so fast with a husband and two kids. She’s faster than Linda who never had a family. It’s called Abrienda Puertas which means opening doors. I hope it doesn’t suck like Mi Tierra did and like Linda’s last album.

Tom and I just had a wonderful chat, but I’ll get to it later.

It’s fucking freezing out! Practically overnight. It’s amazing how it went from scorching hot to so very, very chilly just like that.

With my luck, the day I begin painting the block wall will be the day the kids and dogs move in next door.

I’m in a generous mood, so if our sex bet is still on, I’ll extend it another month till November 15th. He’s gonna lose!

Later…

It’s so peacefully quiet out. If the M’s were still here and if I’d never spoken up, the kids’ screams would be heard on and off all day from inside their house with their windows open. Then, from about 3 PM-6 PM, they’d be right outside here going crazy. It’s warmed up pretty fast out there, but summer is surely gone.

WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 4, 1995 I am absolutely furious right now. That mother-fucking OJ Simpson got off! I knew it though. It just goes to show you once again how if you’re a male and if you have money, you’re above the law. It also goes to show how men can beat their wives for years, then murder them and get away with it. To me, this fucking jury is no better than this known and proven murderer. I have been an admitted sexist all my life, but now I don’t think there’s a bigger sexist than me. If he had been a female or if it had been a broke female or male, they would be found guilty for sure. Maybe not even a broke male, though.

I hope and pray more than anything that someone does the right thing and kills him. What the fuck was going through God’s mind? How can He let this happen? How could God allow him kids that he’s gonna get back? I will never pray again. Never! This fucking murderer can have 4 kids and I can’t! I hope he dies! Death is what he deserves! What a slap in the face for women and a sign to the rich saying: Go ahead. Kill whoever you want cuz you can buy your way out of it. Especially if you’re a male.

What also burns me up is that people like me who want to do the right thing can’t kill him cuz then we go to jail too, and no middle-class, childless female would get off. Just like rapist Mike Tyson who just made a million dollars! Do I have to kill or hurt people to have a child and more money? Is that what it would take? I’ll bet that if I went out and killed someone, I’d be pregnant.

I’m just so sick of this crazy, sick, fucked up, unfair world! Even my sister was furious. Why the fuck were 10 jury members black? Why couldn’t there be 4 whites, 4 blacks, 4 Asian, and 4 Hispanics?

I told Tammy how furious I was cuz this two-time murderer gets to have his kids and we can’t have one. Tammy said to adopt. Tom would never go for that and I have a record, I said. Then she said that prank phone calls weren’t shit when they can let a murderer have his kids. True. But I’m a female and we’re middle-class and not rich.

I’ve tried for the last several years not to be prejudiced, but now I’m right back to how I felt at age 21 or so. Most of them are no good losers who simply want to commit crimes, but not the time.

All the more I know now not to bother praying to God. This is the final straw and I’ve lost all faith. I knew I’d never have a kid, but now I really, really know and I fully intend to ask Dr. Rausch about the injection. Tom will have to find a new game to play with me.

Meanwhile, I hope OJ dies!!!!!

TUESDAY, OCTOBER 3, 1995 I haven’t been writing nearly as much as I’d like to, but now I’m gonna catch up.

First, though, I got a letter from Kim today, as well as one from Bob. Kim also sent me a letter she got from Bob that was so funny. Not funny by him cuz he wrote the same old shit. What was funny is how Kim added her own words to it. Her comments in Bob’s letter were pretty funny and I’ll be sending Andy the letter eventually so he can post it in his laundry room.

Speaking of Andy, he should be calling me back at any moment.

Later…

A couple of days ago Andy called me telling me he had stress and anxiety like never before. The bulk of it is due to his life. He’s broke and is very lonely. He said he felt like he wanted to take some kind of medication for it. I told him that it’s his life and it’s his body, but I reminded him why I don’t approve of shit like that. To me, shrinks are no better than street drug dealers. Also, you get physically and psychologically addicted to the shit and while you’re taking it the problems are still there. Not to mention all the side effects that go with it. It’s hard, but I’d rather try to find anything I could to make a tough time easier to deal with.

So, I told him to call the crisis center if he really feels like he’s gonna freak. I got him laughing at one point when I said, “Just don’t tell him you see snow outside or that you’ve got your Superman outfit on and are gonna jump off of the high school roof.”

I also told him that he can find places where he can see a therapist for free due to him not making hardly any money. I think he qualifies for Access. I know it’s not the best medical plan in the world, but it’s better than nothing. So, he’s got an appointment to see a therapist for free in Mesa and he’s gonna apply for Access. He wants to see a doctor to see if he’s got something wrong with him or if what he’s feeling is all stress-related.

Tom and I are doing OK. I still feel my life would be pretty near perfect if Tom could cum and we could have a kid. Better yet, it’d be pretty near perfect if he could cum and I didn’t want a kid.

I doubt it, but could Tom be gay? It seems very unlikely and he knows that I’m the last person who’d freak out on him if he told me so if it were true. I just don’t know what to do anymore. If I try I get no results, if I don’t try I get no results, and I really believe that if I said nothing about it, he’d still be up to his same old tricks 5 years from now. And then at that time he still wouldn’t want to see a doctor about it. I never thought I’d want to see someone about it since I’ve always been superstitious and against stuff like that. I don’t always believe in changing the way God’s made us (if He really does exist).

He told me the other day that he does tell me the truth and that’s if he’s said anything that hasn’t come true, it wasn’t intentional. He said that he’s not out to get me, he doesn’t have a plan as to when to cum, he does want a kid, he doesn’t want to change or make me into something, and he’s not holding back.

I want more than anything to believe this, but what am I supposed to think? Then again, maybe it’d be scarier to think that there could be a very slight chance that he does have a real mental block. Cuz usually, if you’ve had a problem like that for as long as he, then it won’t go away without someone else’s help. If this were God forbid the case and if he ever did get over his embarrassment and decided to seek professional help, God only knows how many years he’d let pass before he did this.

I told him the other day to think about how he said that our insurance pays for stuff like this cuz it plays on couples’ minds psychologically and it’s playing on my mind. And that his being in denial is hurting me and making me feel like my dreams are being taken away if all’s really OK with me. But he said he knows in his mind that things will change. How many more months is he going to keep saying that?! He may be kidding himself, but he’s not kidding me. He says that he’s constantly true to himself as well as to me, but I’ll tell you one thing, I’m getting closer and closer to asking about that injection!

He also said that it’s not that our sex before we began sleeping together didn’t count. He said it was always great, he just didn’t know it’d be this great and says the difference between the two makes the sex we had before sleeping together seem like nothing. I can believe and accept that one, but I still feel the same way I’ve always felt about it. I wrote in these journals how it wouldn’t change him before we did sleep together, and I was right.

Also, shortly after I got up on Sunday, I said I had a proposition for him and suggested that we agree on a timeframe of seeing that things won’t change and then we go to a doctor. Not only did he not agree to a date which would’ve been something like 3-5 years anyway, but he was upset about it and didn’t talk to me for nearly an hour. He said it ruined his day and his opportunity to initiate sex with me.

How does and should a simple question ruin someone’s day and chance to initiate sex with someone? To me, it’s just another one of his stupid excuses. Does he think I’m stupid? Well, I’m not. Talk about a kid turns him off sexually. Now what would that tell someone? Wouldn’t it tell that person that this is someone that does not want a kid if it’s got to turn off their appetite for sex?

MONDAY, OCTOBER 2, 1995 Today was between fair and good (now yesterday). I’ve got several things to write about Andy and Tom.

First of all, I taped a movie out in the living room while Tom taped another one for me in the bedroom. It’s done recording. However, hitting the eject button seems useless in getting the tape out. I’ll have to ask Tom how it works.

We went out earlier and I got 4 puzzles. None by the company who had that puzzle offer cuz they had either ugly ones or ones I already have. They’re all dogs, kittens and teddy bears. Two of them are 12x36.

When Tom went to bed, he and I forgot to have him leave me more cigarettes, so I “psyched” them out. I felt they were by the small room in the back room. They were.

A couple of days ago I spoke to Andy who was home from work. He never calls out of work cuz he can’t entertain himself with things to do, as I can. Right away when he called me, I could tell he was miserable. He said he’s never been under such stress and anxiety before which was doing a number on him physically, too. Nerves will do it. I should know. So, later on I’ll write how I helped him which made me feel very good since I was once in his shoes and know what he’s going through!

SUNDAY, OCTOBER 1, 1995 Got a postcard from Alex yesterday. Of course his handwriting was barely legible. Tom even had trouble reading it. He sounded like Bob at one point when he said, “I still believe I’m here!” He forgot the “can’t.” I don’t know whose letters are funnier - Bob’s or Alex’s.

[bluejay-writes]

A sort of Fairy Tail - Chapter 3

Rating: T / PG-13, SFW. Fandom: Mystic Messenger Relationships: 707/MC (Jaena)/Saeran Chapter 3 Wordcount: 2899 Summary:

Freelance Hacker by day, cosplayer by weekend, Jaena Grey was living her best life. One fateful convention, she meets a scarily talented fellow costumer and his friend Zen.

When Jaena finds herself embroiled in the usual Mint Eye apartment plot, Seven panics to see someone he knows. Hijinks ensue, including Jaena spending the majority of her time cosplaying as 707 in his own bunker to hide herself from Vanderwood - for better or worse.

You can also read this on AO3! <- Also a good place to check tags.

Chapter 3: Crafting 606

“So… you’re a long ways from Comic Con.” he said, once they were in his car, speeding away from the apartment.

“So are you.” She said, but relented. “I’m on vacation. Came to take a spring session at SKY University about Special Effects work and I’ve got two weeks left here for normal tourist bullshit before I go home.”

“Why just tell me all that?” He said, smirking.

“You’re a hacker. That’s all surface level, and you probably already knew it, or well assumed the latter based on flight dates.”

“Oof, ya got me.” He said, chuckling. “You seem familiar with the hacker life.”

“Did you think cosplay was my career?” She said, smirking.

“No. You’re not jaded enough to be a full time "content creator”, either. So… filthy rich, maybe?  Admittedly, I didn’t dig too deep into the mystery woman because, well, you’re you. I couldn’t just leave my cosplay buddy in a room with a bomb.” His eyes blew wide and he slapped a hand over his mouth.

“A bomb?” Jaena asked, raising an eyebrow, but trying to tamp down her reaction otherwise.

“Yeah. Rika made me set it up for information security, but… there’s probably something more than just guest information there if she wanted something like that.”

“Oh, fuck. I thought you were joking.” Jaena said, a chill running down her spine.

“I mean, I do that a lot, but… not about this. It’s why I dropped everything and came to get you. You’re just lucky I was out grocery shopping when you appeared in the chat. Hope you’re up for a decent car trip, we’re about an hour out from the bunker, if I speed.”

“Only speed when it’s fun.” Jaena said, and leaned her head back on the car seat. “Can we stop by my hotel for my things? Wait, are you kidnapping me? Should I be worried?”

“We can’t go now, I need to get back before Vanderwood realizes something’s up, but I’ll make time later tonight or tomorrow to drive you back there. And I guess you’re kinda being kidnapped? You already were, and now I’m holding onto you to keep you safe.”

“Oh, for real?” Jaena couldn’t help but channel her inner Chad. “That’s fine. Doesn’t change my plans at all. Might even save me money.”

“Honestly? I don’t know how you’re as calm as you are.” he said, shaking his head.

“Believe me, I’ll break down later, once I feel safe.” She said, sighing. “This is a lot. Not at all what I wanted from my vacation, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t hope I’d run into you here.”

“Me? Why here?” he sounded confused, but a quick glance told her he was smirking.

“Well, you were with Zen that day and this is his hometown. Also I didn’t run into you again that entire con circuit so it was unlikely you were one of his ‘local’ friends or something. Besides, you mentioned customs about your Unbreakable costume.”

“Oh, you knew it was Zen, then?”

“Lucy did. She’s still mad that she didn’t manage to score his number.”

“Oh my god he has not stopped whining at me about blocking him.” Luciel laughed, and Jaena realized she really loved the sound of his laugh. “Maybe I can have you give his number to your girl, if she’s trustworthy and not likely to screw his career over.”

“Lord no, she’s the most respectful fan you’ll ever meet.” Jaena paused and then added “At least in public. I’m sure she’d disrespect the hell out of him in the bedroom.”

“You did not just say that!” Luciel crowed, smacking his hand against the steering wheel.

Jaena woke a little bit later, not realizing she’d fallen asleep until the sound of the phone ringing through the car speakers startled her awake.

Luciel turned and looked at her.

“Don’t say anything. Don’t breathe loud. Okay? I have to take this. It’s… work.”

Jaena nodded to show she understood, and laid her head back against the seat again, figuring that would make him more comfortable.

“What?” he said, after he’d tapped to accept the call.

“Zero Seven, where are you? That grocery run should have had you back here an hour ago, at the latest.”

“Sorry, Vandy, I ran into a friend at the store and we got to talking. You know how it is.”

“Don’t call me Vandy. And stop spending so much time with those RFA Nerds. I have to go make a house call. You’d better be home and working by the time I call you again.”

“I’m like ten minutes from home. I’ll get the job done tonight, just like I promised.”

“You damn well better.” The voice, ostensibly ‘Vandy’ seemed irritated, and the call cut.

“Sorry about that.” Luciel said after a minute. “The life of a hacker is trash.”

“Tell me about it.” Jaena said, with a roll of her eyes. “I was really looking forward to this vacation.”

Luciel eyed her. “I want to dig deeper into that statement but first I gotta handle this situation.”

“What situation?”

“Welp.” Luciel sighed. “I’m not supposed to have friends. Vandy tolerates the RFA because I work better with them around than I did before I started working with them, but…”

“The who?”

“Oh. That’s the chatroom you were in. I’ll give you the rundown on that once we’re settled at home, but. I’m definitely not supposed to bring a distractingly cute girl home. So.”

Jaena blinked. Distractingly Cute? Like, she was easy enough on the eyes, she supposed, but that was a nice compliment he’d paid her. Not that he gave her a chance to say anything before going on.

“I was thinking since you’re so good at cosplay…wanna just cosplay as me? See how long we can fool Vanderwood?”

“Uh. What’s the bad ending?” Jaena asked, immediately imagining herself in his current outfit.

“Well, worst case, Vanderwood thinks you’re an enemy plant and tases you.”

“Zap-dead or Zap-tingles-oh-god-ow?”

“The latter. He doesn’t kill unless he has to.”

“Well, then I think this is a hilarious plan and I’m into it. but do you have a you-wig? I don’t want to cut off my hair.”

“Yeah, well, cutting your gorgeous hair would earn me a fate worse than death. A tragedy. A travesty. The worst timeline.” Luciel said, grinning. “Oh. And you should get used to calling me Seven.”

“Seven?” She blinked. Zen had called him that, so had people in the chat. Also the agent.

“Well, technically I’m Agent 707 EXTREME.”

“…extreme?” She smirked at him. 

“I was twelve, cut me some slack.”

“Oof, that’s too young, babe.” she said, laughing, and had to think back on what she’d said when she realized he’d gone as red as his hair. “Oh. I. Um.” Now she was blushing. Great.

“It’s fine.” he said quietly, and she just let it pass.

“Okay.” He said, grinning like an idiot. “This is my cosplay cave.”

Jaena didn’t know what she was expecting when he led her down to yet a deeper basement, but a fully furnished entire floor walk-in closet full of (irritatingly well organized) cosplay paraphernalia was not it.

“Vanderwood doesn’t come down here, says it scares him, so I figure we’ll set you up a place to sleep and game or whatever.”

“First thing I’m going to do is see if I can’t track down Unknown.” Jaena said, her voice tense.

“Oho! Another hacker! I thought that’s what you were getting at earlier.” He slung an arm around her shoulders. “Maybe cosplaying God Seven is a perfect choice then.”

Jaena laughed, but it was somewhat forced. “I might need to stay in that chat room and pretend nothing’s different if we want to convince Unknown that I’m still in the apartment.”

“There are cameras, he already knows you’re gone. Besides, I said I was coming to get you.” Seven said, dropping his arm. “But you’re right that keeping you in the chat isn’t a bad idea. Hell, then I can chat with you even when Vanderwood is here. V seems convinced that Rika wanted this, which… fuck, I am going to have to explain everything about Rika and the RFA now.”

“Wait.” Jaena said, “One thing at a time. Let’s just get me back in the chat, and you can tell them you took me somewhere safe, and we’ll let them explain the way V wanted them to. Less work for you. More time for me to track Unknown without having to explain what I’m doing.”

“Alright. First thing’s first, turning you into me.” Seven walked over to the wall of wigs, and grabbed one that was in fact a perfect replica of his own hair, and handed it to her. “Caps and pins are by the mirror on that wall. I’ll be right back with my spare hoodie.”

Jaena didn’t take long to get her hair braided and up out of the way under the wig. Her own hair lent a bulk under the cap that actually made it look more like his messy hair than she expected. Next step was seeing if he had anything she could use to bind her chest. Sure, he wore loose fitting clothes, but not loose enough to hide her obvious feminine features. 

Strolling over to what looked like the complicated underpinnings section of his closet, Jaena was simultaneously surprised and confused to find binders in multiple colors and fabrics. Weirdo. She chuckled, carefully stripping off her shirt and bra, and settling herself into a binder with a sigh. It had been awhile since she’d worn one of these, but they always made her feel safe. Contained. Hidden.

Behind her, Seven cleared his throat. “You aren’t wearing a shirt.”

Jaena turned to look at the ginger, a pile of clothes in his hands, and a light blush on his cheeks. “Silly boy, You’ve seen me in less. In public.”

“It’s oddly different when you’re in my home, though.” He tossed her a shirt, and she carefully slipped it on. “Also I don’t know how we’re going to hide your hips. I hope my jeans actually fit you. They might be too big. I didn’t think about that…” Seven trailed off as Jaena shed her own jeans without a second thought for modesty.

Jaena shrugged. “People see what they want to see.” She held out her hand, and he held out the jeans. “Oh, these should be fine.” she said after a glance at the size tag.

Seven of course had turned away, red as a tomato at Jaena’s lack of concern with him seeing her in various states of undress. When he dared to turn back, Jaena was once again fully clothed. In his clothes. She held her hand out for the hoodie and slipped it on, noticing something clink together in the pocket.  When she pulled it out, she saw a set of contact lens bottles, with Seven’s gold color floating in them.

“They’re blanks. I don’t know if you wear actual contacts or anything, but…”

“Nope! I have a smidge of farsightedness, but nothing worth correcting.” Jaena said, as Seven directed her over to the cosplay bathroom. 

“I’ll have to move some things so you can use this as an actual bathroom… no shower down here, but you can use mine…”

Jaena tried not to smile at his rambling, while sliding lenses in her eyes. Some part of her knew he could have put something in the contact solution, but she doubted he would. He’d made a point of handing her sealed containers, after all. She turned back to him and he beckoned her out of the bathroom space.

“Do a little spin?” He gestured, and she did a little spin. 

“What do you think?”

“Well, you’re no 707, but…. 606 maybe.”

“Aw, what’s wrong?” Jaena looked herself over, pursing her lips.

“The voice, Scarlet.” he said, laughing. “So maybe don’t talk to Vanderwood. Or whisper?”

“Okay.” she whispered, and Seven wrapped her in his arms and spun her around. She laughed, his joy was contagious.

“Now, I have to work lest Vandy actually tase me intentionally.” he said, pouting. “Come upstairs, I’ll get you set up with a laptop while I get some things running.”

<707 entered the chat> <Jaena entered the chat> Yoosung★: They’re back! 707: Sorry for the delay, figured if we didn’t want an intruder in Rika’s apartment, and the intruder also didn’t want to be there, best bet was to get them out. V: I’d like to explain what we’re about, and what we’d like from you. Before I go.

Jaena watched as the chat explained, each in their own words, about the RFA and the parties they host, and what they’d hope she’d be willing to do. She hadn’t the heart to tell them that she was due to fly back home in two weeks. Maybe if this was something she could do from her condo, but…

V: And I have to run. Take good care of our new member, everyone. <V left the chat> Yoosung★: Just like that he’s gone, like he was never here. Jumin Han: He is a busy artist. Jaena: V’s departure aside, thank you for all of that. Also I’m sorry for being rude earlier. Jumin Han: Oh, it has manners. ZEN: It’s a she. Jumin Han: Still haven’t proven that to me. Jaehee Kang: Nice to have another woman around, Jaena. Yoosung★: Wait, Seven, so Jaena is definitely a girl? 707: Hey wait Jaena, can I….?

Seven’s voice echoed down the stairs, “They want to see pics. I have ones from con?”

Jaena wasn’t sure how that would help them believe she was a real person, but also she’d looked heckin good at that con, so there was no reason not to.

Jaena: I guess? 707: [shot of Jaena as Erza, as he met her] Yoosung★: Seven… that’s just you in cosplay. ZEN: Seven, that’s just that girl you were crushing on last comic con. Jaena: …crushing on? ZEN: Oh yeah. Seven met this girl and hasn’t stopped talking about her basically since. Yoosung★: Oh yeah! His perfect Scarlet! 707: omg guys can you not… Jaena: Perfect Scarlet, eh Seven? 707: Oh no 707: uh 707: [Depressed Emoji] Yoosung★: omg is it actually her ZEN: WHAT?! ZEN: [Shocked Emoji] Jaena: I can’t send photos on this chat, but…

Jaena’s cheeks were hot, but she knew if she didn’t make herself look like a real person in their eyes they were going to disbelieve in her very existence.  She bit her lip as she flipped through her selfies and grabbed one of the ones she’d taken to prove to Lucy that she was alive, and sent it to Seven’s number from her real phone, which had multimedia messaging still enabled, unlike the thing that was practically a brick with a messenger attached.

Yoosung★: Seven make it so she can send us pics! 707: Oh, she sent me one from her actual phone. Here, current Jaena. 707: [Selfie of Jaena with Boba on SKY campus] Yoosung★: Hey that’s my school! Jaena: I was auditing a class there this last semester. Too bad we never ran into each other! ZEN: Seven would have been jealous. Jaena: Anyway that’s me. Sorry for dropping in on your chat like this. Jaena: Or I guess, getting kidnapped into your chat for some reason. Jaehee Kang: That is concerning. Jaena: Don’t worry, I’m not kidnapped anymore, I think. ZEN: Seven, you aren’t pranking us, right? ZEN: You weren’t Unknown, were you? 707: I am not Unknown. 707: I am grateful to him for bringing my Scarlet to me though! 707: [Heart Eyes Emoji] Jaehee Kang: I have too much work to do for whatever this chat is turning into. Jaehee Kang: Jaena, do reach out if you need some girl talk, though. Jaena: Back at you! Jumin Han: Yes, I too am going to excuse myself. <Jumin Han left the chat> <Jaehee Kang left the chat> ZEN: No offer of girl talk from Jumin, though, I see. Yoosung★: Wait, does that mean Seven has a girlfriend now? Jaena: Whoa whoa whoa Jaena: Nothing like that. 707: We’re friends though 707: We’re having soft tacos later. Jaena: ok catbug 707: nyaaa ZEN: NO CATS.  ZEN: I’m leaving. ZEN: But not because of you, Jaena. <ZEN left the chat> Yoosung★: I have to go too, the land of LOLOL is calling. <Yoosung★ left the chat> Jaena: Well, that was an abrupt end to a hectic conversation. 707: We don’t think it be like that, but it do. 707: I gotta work. You gotta work. Text if you need something. Jaena: Yes, sir! Perfect Scarlet, signing off. <Jaena has left the chat> 707: God help me, I’m never going to live that down. <707 has left the chat>

Later, sitting on her makeshift bed on the floor of the fancy-dresses section, Jaena stared at the image on the screen.  She’d managed to hack into surveillance cameras near where she’d been when she ran into Unknown.  Either he was cocky, or he was an idiot.  She’d managed to get a shot of his face from the nearby bank’s camera.

“Hey, Scarlet.” Seven said from the bottom of the stairs.

“Hey, Seven.” she said, not tearing her eyes from the screen. “Do you have a twin?”

[96harmony96]

Chapter 9

I hurried through the security turnstiles of the Crossfire and grinned when I saw Cary waiting for me in the lobby.

“Hey, you,” I greeted him, admiring how he managed to make worn jeans and a V-neck T-shirt look expensive.

“Hey, stranger.” He held out his hand to me and we stepped out of the building through the side door hand-in-hand. “You’re looking happy.”

The noonday heat hit me like a physical barrier. “Ugh. It’s hot as hell. Let’s pick somewhere close. You up for tacos?”

“Hell yeah.”

I took him to the little Mexican place Megumi had introduced me to and tried not to let him see how guilty his greeting made me feel. I hadn’t been home in a couple of days and Lauren was planning a weekend trip away, which meant it would be another few days before I hung out with Cary again. It had been a relief when he’d agreed to meet me for lunch. I didn’t want to go too long without checking in with him and making sure he was all right.

“Got any plans tonight?” I asked, after ordering for both of us.

“One of the photographers I’ve worked with is having a birthday bash tonight. I figured I’d pop in for a bit and see how it goes.” He rocked back on his heels as we waited for our tacos and blended virgin margaritas. “You still planning on hanging with your boss’s sister? You guys wanna come with?”

“Sister-in-law,” I corrected. “And she’s got concert tickets. I’m her last hope, she said, but even if I wasn’t, I think it’ll be fun. At least I hope so. I’ve never heard of the band, so I’m just hoping they don’t suck.”

“Who is it?”

“Six-Ninths. Know ’em?”

His eyes widened. “Six-Ninths? Really? They’re good. You’ll like them.”

I grabbed our drinks off the counter and left the tray with our plates for him to carry. “You’ve heard of them and Shawna’s a big fan. Where have I been?”

“Under Jauregui and her hard place. You taking her with you?”

“Yes.” I hurried to grab a table as two businessmen stood to leave. I didn’t tell Cary about Lauren’s assertion that I couldn’t go without her. I knew that wouldn’t go over well with Cary, which made me wonder why I’d let it go as easily as I did. Usually Cary and I agreed about stuff like that.

“Can’t see Jauregui liking alt rock.” Cary sank fluidly into the chair across from me. “Does she know how much you like it? Especially the musicians who play it?”

I stuck my tongue out at him. “I can’t believe you brought that up. Ancient history.”

“So? Brett was hot. Ever think about him?”

“With shame.” I picked up one of the carne asada tacos. “So I try not to.”

“He was a decent guy,” Cary said, before slurping up a hefty swallow of margarita-flavored slush.

“I’m not saying he wasn’t. He just wasn’t good for me.” Just thinking about that time in my life made me want to squirm in embarrassment. Brett Kline was hot and he had a voice that made me wet just hearing it, but he was also one of the prime examples of an unfortunate choice in my previously sordid love life. “Moving on . . . You talk to Trey lately?”

Cary’s smile faded. “This morning.”

I waited patiently.

Finally, he sighed. “I miss him. Miss talking to him. He’s so fucking smart, you know? Like you. He’s going to that party with me tonight.”

“As friends? Or as a date?”

“These are really good.” He chewed a bite of one of his tacos before replying. “We’re supposed to be going as friends, but you know I’ll probably screw that up and fuck him. I asked him to meet me there and to head home from there so we’re not alone, but I can always bang him in the bathroom or a goddamn maintenance closet. I have no willpower and he can’t say no to me.”

My heart hurt at his dejected tone.

“I know what that’s like,” I reminded him softly. That’d been me once. I’d been so desperate to feel connected with somebody. “Why don’t you . . . you know . . . take care of it beforehand. Maybe that’ll help.”

A slow, mischievous smile spread across his handsome face. “Can I get you to record that for my voicemail message?”

I threw my wadded-up napkin at him.

He caught it with a laugh. “You can be such a prude sometimes. I love it.”

“I love you. And I want you to be happy.”

Lifting my hand to his lips, he kissed the back. “I’m working on it, baby girl.”

“I’m here if you need me, even if I’m not home.”

“I know.” He squeezed my hand before releasing it.

“I’ll be around a lot next week. Gotta get ready for my dad’s visit.” I bit into a taco and my feet did a little happy tap dance at how delicious it was. “I wanted to ask you about Friday. I’ve got to work, so if you’re around, would you keep an eye on him? I’ll stock up on the food he likes and leave him some city maps, but—”

“No problem.” Cary winked at a pretty blonde as she walked by. “He’ll be in good hands.”

“Want to see a show with us while he’s in town?”

“Camila honey, I’m always game to hang with you. Just let me know where and when, and I’ll keep things clear as much as possible.”

“Oh!” I quickly chewed and swallowed. “Mom told me she saw your pretty mug on the side of a bus the other day.”

He grinned. “I know. She forwarded a pic she’d taken with her phone. Awesome, right?”

“Beyond. We’ll need to celebrate,” I said, stealing his signature line.

“Hell yeah.”

* * *

 “Whoa!” Shawna paused on the sidewalk outside her Brooklyn apartment complex and gaped at the limousine idling in the street. “You went all out.”

“Not me,” I said dryly, checking out her tight red shorts and strategically slashed Six-Ninths screened T-shirt. Her bright hair had been pulled up and teased, and her lips were painted to match her shorts. She looked hot and ready to party, and I felt vindicated in my clothing choice of ultra-short black leather pleated skirt, fitted white ribbed tank top, and cherry red sixteen-eye Doc Martens.

Lauren, who’d had her back to us while talking to Angus, turned to face us, and I found myself as dumbstruck now as I’d been when I first saw her after she had showered and changed. She wore loose-fitting black jeans and a plain black T-shirt with heavy black boots and somehow made the severely casual combination look so fucking sexy, I wanted to jump her bones. As Dark and Dangerous as she was in a pantsuit, she was even more so when ready to rock. She looked younger and every bit as mouthwateringly gorgeous.

“Holy shit, tell me that’s for me,” Shawna whispered, gripping my wrist like a vise.

“Hey, you’ve got your own. That one’s mine.” And it gave me a huge thrill to say so. Mine to claim, to touch, to kiss. And later on, to fuck to exhaustion. Oh yeah . . .

She laughed when I rocked onto my tiptoes in anticipation. “All right. I’ll settle for an introduction.”

I did the honors, then waited for her to hop into the limo first. I was about to climb in after her when I felt Lauren’s hand slide up beneath my skirt to squeeze my butt.

She pressed against my back and whispered in my ear, “Make sure I’m standing behind you when you bend over, angel, or I’ll be spanking this pretty ass.”

Turning my head, I leaned my cheek against hers. “My period’s over.”

She growled, her fingertips biting into the flesh of my hip. “Why didn’t you tell me that earlier?”

“Delayed gratification, ace,” I told her, using a phrase she’d once tormented me with. I was laughing at her curse when I dropped onto the bench seat beside Shawna.

Angus slid behind the wheel and we headed out, breaking into a bottle of Armand de Brignac on the way. By the time we pulled up to Tableau One, a hot new fusion bistro that had a healthy line out front and energetic music pouring out onto the street, the combination of the champagne and Lauren’s hot gaze on the nearly indecent hemline of my skirt had me feeling giddy.

Shawna slid forward on the seat and stared wide-eyed through the tinted windows. “Doug tried to get us in here before he left, but the waiting list is two months long. You can walk up, but the wait can be hours and there’s no guarantee you’ll be seated.”

The limo door opened and Angus helped her out, then me. Lauren joined us, taking my arm as if we were dressed for a gala and not a rock concert. We were escorted inside so quickly, with the manager being so gushy and welcoming, that I looked at Lauren and mouthed, One of yours?

“Yes, in partnership.”

I just sighed, reconciled to the inevitable. “Is your friend going to meet us for dinner?”

Lauren gestured with an easy nod of her chin. “He’s already here.”

I followed her gaze to an attractive man sporting blue jeans and a Six-Ninths T-shirt. The gentleman was acting as the focal point in a photo op with two pretty women on each side. He smiled wide for the person wielding a smartphone camera, then waved at Lauren and excused himself.

“Oh my God.” Shawna bounced on her feet. “That’s Arnoldo Ricci! He owns this place. And he’s got a show on the Food Network!”

Lauren released me to clasp hands with Arnoldo and engage in the backslapping ritual of close friends. “Arnoldo, my girlfriend, Camila Camila.”

I extended my hand and Arnoldo grabbed it, pulled me closer, and kissed me straight on the mouth.

“Back off,” Lauren snapped, tugging me behind her.

Arnoldo grinned, his dark eyes flashing with humor. “And who’s this vision?” he asked, turning to Shawna and lifting her hand to his lips.

“Shawna, this will be your escort, Arnoldo Ricci, if he manages to survive dinner.” Lauren shot her friend a warning look. “Arnoldo, Shawna Ellison.”

She practically glowed. “My boyfriend’s a huge fan of yours. I am, too. He made your lasagna recipe once and it was. To. Die. For.”

“Lauren told me your man is in Sicily now.” Arnoldo’s voice was flavored with a delicious accent. “I hope you can make the time to visit with him there.”

My gaze darted to Lauren, knowing damn well I’d never given her that much information about Shawna’s boyfriend. She glanced down at me with a look of mock innocence and an almost imperceptible smirk.

I shook my head, exasperated, but I couldn’t deny that this would be a night Shawna would never forget.

The next hour passed in a blur of excellent food and fine wine. I was polishing off an extraordinary zabaione with raspberries when I caught Arnoldo watching me with a wide smile.

“Bellissima,” he praised. “Always a joy to see a woman with a healthy appetite.”

I flushed, slightly embarrassed. I couldn’t help it; I loved food.

Lauren draped her arm along the back of my chair and toyed with the hair at my nape. Her other hand lifted a glass of red wine to her mouth and when she licked her lips, I knew she was thinking about tasting me instead. Her desire was charging the air between us. I had been falling under its spell all through dinner.

Reaching beneath the tablecloth, I cupped her cock through her jeans and squeezed. She went from semihard to stone instantly but gave no other outward indication of her arousal.

I couldn’t help but see that as a challenge.

I began to stroke the rigid length of her with my fingers, careful to keep my movements slow and easy to prevent detection. To my delight, Lauren continued her conversation without a hitch in her voice or change of expression. Her control excited me, made me bolder. I reached for her button fly, turned on by the thought of releasing her and stroking her skin on skin.

Lauren took another leisurely sip, then set her wineglass down.

“Only you, Arnoldo,” she said dryly in response to something her friend had said.

My wrist was caught just as I tugged at the top button of her jeans. She lifted my hand to her lips, the gesture appearing to be an absentminded show of affection. The quick nip of her teeth into the pad of my finger caught me by surprise and made me gasp.

Arnoldo smiled; it was the knowing and slightly mocking smile one bachelor gave to another who’d been caught by a woman. He said something in Italian. Lauren replied, her pronunciation sounding fluid and sexy, her tone wry. Arnoldo threw his dark head back and laughed.

I squirmed in my seat. I loved seeing Lauren like this, relaxed and enjoying herself.

She looked at my empty dessert plate, then at me. “Ready to go?”

“Oh, yes.” I was dying to see how the rest of the night would go, how many more sides of Lauren I’d get to discover. Because I loved this side of the woman as much as I loved the powerful businesswoman in the suit and the dominant lover in my bed and the broken child who couldn’t hide her tears and the tender partner who held me when I cried.

She was so complex and still a huge mystery to me. I’d barely scratched the surface of who she was. Which didn’t stop me from being in too deep.

* * *

 “These guys are good!” Shawna yelled as the opening act barreled headlong into their fifth song.

We’d left our seats after the third, working our way through a writhing crowd to the railing that divided the seating area from the mosh pit in front of the stage. Lauren surrounded me, her arms caging me on both sides, her hands gripping the rail. The audience pressed in around us, collectively pushing forward, but I was cushioned from it by her body, just as Shawna was by Arnoldo beside us.

I was sure Lauren could have gotten us way better seats, but I didn’t have to tell her that the way Shawna had scored her fan-only tickets and the fact that she’d invited us meant her seats were our only option. I loved her for understanding that and for going with the flow.

Turning my head, I looked at her. “Is this band with Vidal, too?”

“No. But I like them.”

I was stoked that she was enjoying the show. Lifting my arms in the air, I screamed, feeling pumped by the energy of the crowd and the driving beat. I danced within the circle of Lauren’s arms, my body drenched in sweat, my blood raging.

When the act was done, the stagehands quickly set to work breaking down the equipment and setting up for Six-Ninths. Grateful for the evening, for the joy, for the awesomeness of going wild with the woman I loved, I turned and threw my arms around Lauren’s neck, mashing my lips to hers.

She lifted me and urged my legs around her waist, kissing me violently. She was hard and pressing against me, luring me to grind into her. Around us people whistled and catcalled things that ranged from “Get a room” to “Fuck her, man!” but I didn’t care and neither did Lauren, who seemed as swept away by the sensual craziness as I was. Her hand on my buttocks rocked me into her erection while the other fisted in my hair, holding me where she wanted me as she kissed me as if she couldn’t stop, as if she were starving for the taste of me.

Our open mouths slid desperately across each other. She tongued me deep and fast, fucking my mouth, making love to it. I drank her in, licking and tasting, moaning at her insatiable need. She sucked on my tongue, the circle of her lips sliding along it. It was too much. I was slick and aching for her cock, nearly frantic with the need to feel her filling me.

“You’re going to make me come,” she growled, before tugging on my bottom lip with her teeth.

I was so into her and the ferocity of her passion for me that I barely registered when Six-Ninths started. It wasn’t until the vocals kicked in that I was jolted back to where I was.

I stiffened, my mind clawing its way up through the fog of desire to process what I was hearing. I knew the song. My eyes opened as Lauren pulled back. Over her shoulder I saw handwritten signs held up in the air.

BRETT KLINE IS MINE! And BANG ME, BRETT! And my personal favorite, BRETT, I’D HIT IT WITH YOU LIKE THE WRATH OF GOD!!!

Hell. What were the chances?

And Cary had known, of course. He’d known and hadn’t warned me. Probably thought it’d be hysterical for me to find out by accident instead.

My legs loosened from around Lauren’s hips and she set me down, protecting me from the frenzied fans with the shield of her body. I turned to face the stage, feeling a mad fluttering in my belly. Sure enough, it was Brett Kline at the mic, his deep, powerful, sexy-as-hell voice pouring over the thousands who’d come to see him in action. His short hair was spiked and tipped with platinum, his lean body clothed in olive cargo pants and a black tank top. It was impossible to see from where I was, but I knew his eyes were a brilliant emerald green, his face was ruggedly handsome, and his killer smile revealed a dimple that drove women crazy.

Tearing my eyes away from him, I looked at the other band members, recognizing all of them. They hadn’t been called Six-Ninths back in San Diego, though. They’d been called Captive Soul then, and I wondered what had led to the name change.

“Good, aren’t they?” Lauren asked with her mouth to my ear so I could hear her. She had one hand on the railing and the other around my waist, keeping me pulled up tight against her as she moved to the music. The combination of her body and Brett’s voice did insane things to my already raging sex drive.

I closed my eyes, focusing on the woman behind me and the unique rush I’d always felt while listening to Brett sing. The music throbbed through my veins, bringing back memories—some good and some bad. I swayed in Lauren’s arms, desire pounding through me. I was achingly aware of her hunger. It poured off her like heat waves, sinking into me, making me crave her until the physical distance between us was painful.

Grabbing the hand she had pressed flat against my stomach, I urged it downward.

“Camila.” Her voice was harsh with lust. I’d been pushing her all night, from the moment I told her my period was over, to the hand job beneath the restaurant table, to the scorching kiss in the intermission.

She gripped my bare thigh and squeezed. “Open.”

I set my left foot on the bottom of the railing. My head fell back against her shoulder and a heartbeat later, her hand was under my skirt. Her tongue traced the shell of my ear, her breathing hard and fast. I felt her groan as much as heard it when she discovered how wet I was.

One song blended into another. Lauren rubbed me through the crotch of my boyshorts, moving in circles, then vertically through my cleft. My hips rolled into her touch, my core clenching, my ass grinding into the hard ridge of her erection. I was going to come right there, inches away from dozens of people, because that was what Lauren did to me. That was how insanely she turned me on. Nothing mattered when her hands were on me, her attention completely riveted to me.

“That’s it, angel.” Her fingers pushed my underwear aside and two sank into me. “I’m going to fuck this gorgeous cunt for days.”

With bodies pressing in all around us, music pounding over us, and privacy granted only by distraction, Lauren slid her fingers deep into my soaked sex and stayed there. The solid, unmoving penetration drove me wild. I ground my hips into her hand, working toward the orgasm I needed so desperately.

The song ended and the lights went out. Drenched in darkness, the crowd roared. Anticipation weighted the audience, building until the strum of guitar strings broke the heavy expectation. Shouts rang out, then lighters flickered to life, turning the sea of people into thousands of fireflies.

A spotlight hit the stage, revealing Brett sitting on a bar stool, shirtless and glistening with sweat. His chest was hard and defined, his abs ridged with muscle. He lowered the height of the microphone stand and the piercings in his nipples glittered with his movements. The women in the audience screamed, including Shawna, who jumped in place and gave an ear splitting whistle.

I totally got it. Sitting there as he was, with his feet propped on the rungs of the chair and his muscular arms covered in sleeves of black and gray tattoos, Brett looked insanely sexy and extremely fuckable. For six months nearly four years ago I’d debased myself to get him naked every chance I could, so infatuated with him and desperate to be loved that I took whatever scraps he threw me.

Lauren’s fingers began to slide in and out of me. The bass kicked in. Brett began to sing a song I’d never heard before, his voice low and soulful, the words crystal clear. He had the voice of a fallen angel. Mesmerizing. Seductive. And the face and body to enhance the temptation.

Golden girl, there you are.

I’m singing for the crowd, the music’s loud.

I’m living my dream, riding the high,

But I see you there, sunlight in your hair,

And I’m ready to go, desperate to fly.

Golden girl, there you are.

Dancing for the crowd, the music’s loud.

I want you so bad. I can’t look away.

Later, you’ll drop to your knees. You’ll beg me please.

And then you’ll go, it’s only your body I know.

Golden girl, where’d you go?

You’re not there, with sunlight in your hair.

I could have you in the bar or the back of my car,

But never your heart. I’m falling apart.

I’ll drop to my knees, I’ll beg you. Please.

Please don’t go. There’s so much more I want to know.

Camila, please. I’m on my knees.

Golden girl, where’d you go?

I’m singing for the crowd, the music’s loud.

And you’re not there, with sunlight in your hair.

Camila, please. I’m on my knees.

 The spotlight went dark. A long moment passed as the music faded. Then the lights came back on and the drums exploded with sound. The flames winked out and the crowd went crazy.

But I was lost to the roaring in my ears, the tightness in my chest, and a confusion that had me reeling.

“That song,” Lauren growled in my ear, her fingers fucking me forcefully, “makes me think of you.”

Her palm pressed into my clit and massaged, and I climaxed in a rush that took me by storm. Tears came to my eyes. I cried out, shaking in her arms. Gripping the railing in front of me, I held on and let the unstoppable pleasure pulse through me.

* * *

 When the show was over, all I could think about was getting to a phone and calling Cary. While we waited for the crowd to thin, I leaned heavily into Lauren, drawing support from the strength of her arms around me.

“You okay?” she asked, running her hands up and down my back.

“I’m fine,” I lied. Honestly, I didn’t know how I was feeling. It shouldn’t matter that Brett wrote a song about me that painted a different light on our fuck-buddy history. I was in love with someone else.

“I want to go, too,” she murmured. “I’m dying to get inside you, angel. I can barely think straight.”

I pushed my hands into the back pockets of her jeans. “So let’s get out of here.”

“I’ve got backstage access.” She kissed the tip of my nose when I leaned back to look up at her. “We don’t have to tell them, if you’d rather get out of here.”

I seriously debated it for a moment. After all, the night had been great as it was, thanks to Lauren. But I knew it’d bother me later, if I denied Shawna and Arnoldo—who was also a Six-Ninths fan—something they’d remember for the rest of their lives. And I’d be lying if I didn’t admit to myself that I wanted to catch a glimpse of Brett up close. I didn’t want him to see me, but I wanted to see him. “No. Let’s take them back there.”

Lauren grabbed my hand and spoke to our friends, whose excitement over the news gave me the excuse to say I’d done it solely for them. We headed down toward the stage, then off to the side of it, where Lauren spoke to the massive man acting as security. When the guy spoke into the mic of his headset, Lauren pulled out her cell and told Angus to bring the limo around to the back. While she spoke, her eyes met mine. The heat in them and the promise of pleasure took my breath away.

“Your woman is the ultimate,” Shawna said, eyeing Lauren with a look of near reverence. It wasn’t a predatory look, just an appreciative one. “I can’t believe this night. I owe you big-time for this.”

She pulled me in for a quick, hard hug. “Thank you.”

I hugged her back. “Thank you for inviting me.”

A tall, rangy man with blue streaks in his hair and stylish black-framed glasses approached us. “Miss. Jauregui,” he greeted Lauren, extending his hand. “I didn’t know you’d be coming tonight.”

Lauren shook the man’s hand. “I didn’t tell you,” she replied smoothly, reaching her other hand out to me.

I caught it and he pulled me forward, introducing me to Robert Phillips, Six-Ninths’ manager. Shawna and Arnoldo were introduced next; then we were led back through the wings, where activity was high and groupies loitered.

I suddenly didn’t want to catch even a glimpse of Brett. It was so easy to forget how it’d been between us while I was listening to him sing. It was so easy to want to forget after listening to the song he’d written. But that time in my past was something I was far from proud of.

“The band’s right in here,” Robert was saying, gesturing to an open door from which music and raucous laughter poured out. “They’ll be excited to meet you.”

My feet dug in suddenly and Lauren paused, glancing at me with a frown.

I pushed up onto my toes and whispered, “I’m not all that interested in meeting them. If you don’t mind, I’m going to hit the backstage bathroom and head out to the limo.”

“Can you wait a few minutes and I’ll go with you?”

“I’ll be okay. Don’t worry about me.”

She touched my forehead. “Are you feeling alright angel? You look flushed.”

“I’m feeling great. I’ll show you exactly how great as soon as we get home.”

That did the trick. Her frown faded and her mouth curved. “I’ll hurry this along, then.” She looked at Robert Phillips and gestured at Arnoldo and Shawna. “Can you take them in? I need a minute.”

“Lauren, really . . .” I protested.

“I’m walking you over there.”

I knew that tone. I let her walk me the twenty feet to the bathroom. “I can take it from here, ace.”

“I’ll wait.”

“Then we’ll never get out of here. Go do your thing. I’ll be fine.”

She gave me a very patient look. “Camila, I’m not leaving you alone.”

“I can manage. Seriously. The exit is right there.” I pointed down the hall to the open double doors beneath a lighted exit sign. Roadies were already transporting equipment out. “Angus is right out there, isn’t he?”

Lauren leaned her shoulder into the wall and crossed her arms.

I threw up my hands. “Okay. Fine. Have it your way.”

“You’re learning, angel,” she said with a smile.

Muttering under my breath, I went into the bathroom and took care of business. As I washed up at the sink, I looked into the mirror and winced. I had raccoon eyes from sweating so damn much and my pupils were dark and dilated.

“What does she see in you?” I asked myself derisively, thinking of how awesome she still looked. As hot and sweaty as she’d been, she looked none the worse for wear, while I looked damp and limp. But more so than my exterior, it was my personal failings I was thinking of. I couldn’t get away from them. Not while Brett was in the same building with us.

I rubbed a dampened square of paper towel under my eyes to get rid of the black smudges, then headed back out to the hall. Lauren waited a few feet away, talking with Robert, or more accurately, listening to him. The band’s manager was clearly excited about something.

Lauren spotted me and held up a hand to get me to wait a minute, but I didn’t want to take the risk. I gestured down the hall at the exit, then turned and headed that way before she could stall me. I hurried past the green room door, chancing a quick glance inside to see Shawna laughing with a beer in her hand. The room was packed and boisterous, and she looked like she was having a great time.

I made my escape with a sigh of relief, feeling ten times lighter the moment I left. Spotting Angus standing next to Lauren’s limo on the far side of the line of buses, I waved and set off toward him.

Looking back on the night, I was tantalized by how uninhibited Lauren had been. She sure as hell hadn’t been the woman who’d used mergers and acquisitions as parlance for getting me into bed.

I couldn’t wait to get her naked.

A burst of flame in the darkness to my right startled me. I jolted to a halt and watched Brett Kline lift a match to the clove cigarette hanging from his lips. As he stood in the shadows to the side of the exit, the flickering light of the flame caressed his face and threw me back in time for a long minute.

He glanced up, caught me in his gaze, and froze. We stared at each other. My heart kicked into a mad beat, a combination of excitement and apprehension. He cursed suddenly, shaking out the match as it burned his fingers.

I took off, struggling to maintain a casual pace as I made a beeline for Angus and the limo.

“Hey! Hold up,” Brett shouted. I heard his footsteps approaching at a jog, and adrenaline surged through me. A roadie was pushing a flat hand truck loaded with heavy gear and I darted around him, using him as cover to duck between two buses. I pressed my back flat against the side of one, standing between two open cargo compartments. I cringed into the shadows, feeling like a coward, but knowing I had nothing to say to Brett. I wasn’t the girl he knew anymore.

I watched him rush by. I decided to wait, give him time to look and give up. I was hyper aware of the time passing, of the fact that Lauren would be looking for me soon.

“Camila.”

I flinched at the sound of my name. Turning my head, I found Brett approaching from the other side. While I’d been looking to the right, he’d come up on the left.

“It is you,” he said roughly. He dropped his clove smoke on the ground and crushed it beneath his boot.

I heard myself saying something familiar. “You should quit.”

“So you keep telling me.” He approached cautiously. “You saw the show?”

I nodded and stepped away from the bus, backing up. “It was awesome. You guys sound really great. I’m happy for you.”

He took a step forward for every one of mine backward. “I was hoping I’d find you like this, at one of the shows. I had a hundred different ideas about how it might go if I saw you at one.”

I didn’t know what to say to that. The tension between us was so thick it was hard to breathe.

The attraction was still there.

It was nothing like what I felt with Lauren. Nothing more than a shadow of that, but it was there nonetheless.

I retreated back out into the open, where the activity was high and there were lots of people milling around.

“Why are you running?” he asked. In the pool of light from a parking lot lamp, I saw him clearly. He was even better looking than before.

“I can’t . . .” I swallowed. “There’s nothing to say.”

“Bullshit.” The intensity of his glare burned through me. “You stopped coming around. Didn’t say a word, just stopped showing up. Why?”

I rubbed at the knot in my stomach. What was I going to say? I finally grew a pair and decided I deserved better than to be one of the many chicks you fucked in a bathroom stall between sets?

“Why, Camila? We had something going and you just fucking disappeared.”

Turning my head, I looked for Lauren or Angus. Neither was anywhere in sight. The limo waited alone. “It was a long time ago.”

Brett lunged forward and caught me by the arms, startling me, briefly frightening me with the sudden aggressive movement. If we hadn’t been so near other people, it might have triggered panic.

“You owe me an explanation,” he bit out.

“It’s not—”

He kissed me. He had the softest lips, and he sealed them over mine and kissed me. By the time I registered what was happening, he’d tightened his grip on my arms and I couldn’t move away. Couldn’t push him away.

And for a brief span of time I didn’t want to.

I even kissed him back, because the attraction was still there and it soothed something hurting inside me to think I might’ve been more than a convenient piece of ass. He tasted like cloves, smelled seductively like hard working male, and he took my mouth with all the passion of a creative soul. He was familiar, in very intimate ways.

But in the end, it didn’t matter that he got to me still. It didn’t matter that we had a history, painful as it was for me. It didn’t matter that I was flattered and affected by the lyrics he’d written, that after six months of watching him enjoy other women while nailing me anywhere with a door that locked, it was me he was thinking about when he seduced screaming-for-it women from the stage.

None of that mattered because I was madly in love with Lauren Jauregui, and she was what I needed.

I wrenched away with a gasp—

—and faced Lauren charging at a dead run, her speed unchecked as she rammed into Brett and took him down.

*Sorry for the long wait. Forgot I was even converting this. Let me know if there are any mistakes. enjoy!! 

[sexyvampkitty]

RP Mini-Solo 7: Greetings From Paradise

I lie here...semi-awake...snuggled in the safe embrace of my hubby's arms...watching the sun come up through the windows of our Hotel room suite in Nassua. Yes...I'm married now...I just got married last night...in fact...and I can hardly believe it myself. Damon and I got engaged on June 16th...and got married on July 1st. So much for that 'long' engagement that we both agreed to...but...he kind of didn't want to wait. Although...the more that I think about it...it probably wouldn't have mattered if we had been engaged for a few weeks or a few months...I know that I still would've been nervous. That's just me...and we actually eloped...but it still counts...and...this way...I have 'plenty' of time to work on planning the 'actual' wedding...which is sometime in December...but...how the Hell do I got about that? I can't let Damon do it. He's done 'so' much for me already...like plan the whole trip that we're currently in the middle of...and who the Hell do I invite? My former boss Josef? All of my former freshie girl friends? ' Dark'? Wes? Okay...I'm 'pretty' sure that 'Dark' would rather crash the wedding...and that last one...Doctor McCreepy...is totally a definite 'no'. I will 'always' hate him for what he did to me...and I still hope for the cure some day...but...I haven't killed my husband...yet...so that's a plus...and the fact that he likes it when I feed from him...and is able to stop me when I can't...doesn't hurt either. And my BFF Kai might be off of the guest list too...especially if the 'secret' Bourbon stash is wiped out by the time we get back home. I rub lazy circles on my husband's chest as he begins to stir slightly...thinking about the events of the past two days. What started out as a romantic weekend getaway to the Bahamas, which was my idea by the way, quickly turned into something more, as Damon decided to take over the 'entire' trip...arranging everything in record time...including the ceremony. How he managed to do that is beyond me. I'll probably never be able to figure it out. It's been a great weekend so far though. This is the best time that I've ever had in my entire life. Romantic dinners...hanging by the pool...swimming...time at a spa...sight-seeing...shopping...and not to mention sex...lots and lots and 'lot's of sex. Sex in the bed...sex in the shower...twice...sex in the bathtub...sex on the beach...sand is a total bitch to get out of certain...ummm...areas...we just can't seem to keep our hands off of each other...and I wouldn't have it any other way. Still...I had a slight freak out last night...and when I told him about it shortly after...he was upset...at first. Even though I had promised Damon the night before that I would never actually 'run' away' from my own wedding ceremony...I almost ended up doing just that. When I saw him waiting for me...on the beach...as gorgeous as he looked all dressed in dazzling white...tux...pants....and shoes...for a split second...I literally thought about turning around and running away in the other direction. I didn't actually go through with it...obviously...but the idea did cross my mind...if only momentarily. But...when I gazed deeply into his dazzling ocean-blue eyes...as he was reciting his vows to me...all of my fears and nervousness quickly vanished. I knew that I wanted to marry this man...ummm...vampire...and that I would love him...always. I guess I was just worried about screwing up like I did with my 'ex'...and ending up alone...forever...which is a long time to exist without someone else. And we've had some small fights already...but we've always managed to work things out. We're...complicated...to say the least...but I think that has to do more with my personality than with his. I'm not always...easy to get along with. That's probably why I end up on the 'Other Side' so much. Long story. Anyway...after the ceremony was over...we came back to the Hotel...where I took a bath...in oils and rose petals...we had sex...in the tub...which I just mentioned...drank Champagne...and then had 'special' room service delivered...so I could watch the whole 'snatch, eat, erase' process in action...since I had never really perfected it myself. When my humanity was off...I never needed to. So...this is our last day here...and we're getting ready to check out and head to Bora Bora next...where we'll have our own private huts on the water. I'm afraid that I'm never going to want to go back home again after this. Hmmm...I wonder if I can talk Damon into letting us stay for a couple of weeks. My husband suddenly stirs in my arms...cracks one eye open to look at me...a brief smile flashing across his face...then close his eye again...and drifts off to sleep. I do the same...my head lying on his chest...nestled under his chin. A few more minutes won't hurt... (END)