#and in the first book she hooked up with whats his face (devin?? been a while) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

saintedfury · 4 years

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A Saintly Muse | IC Drabble

Summary: Devin comes to the rescue.

a/n: @ashandnovels posted a request for smut to her inbox, so I decided to try and deliver.

A Saintly Muse

Devin, any chance you’d be free to do me a massive favor?

Furia tapped the message into her phone and waited. She wasn’t the only one trying to solve the issue, but she might be the most certain that someone would respond affirmatively.

[SMS] Always.

The reply, as well as the speed with which he sent it, made her grin.

You’re a saint.

[SMS] You just figuring that out?

She texted him the address. “I’ve got someone on their way,” she announced to the room full of artists. A sigh of relief rolled through the open airy space. She realized that perhaps she should have mentioned the what of the favor she was asking.

No. But it’s definitely more than just the purple.

I hope you’re good with having a lot of people staring at you.

[SMS] And what did I just volunteer for?

I found a figure drawing class. We need a model. Ours had an emergency come up.

[SMS] Sounds relatively painless.

Sí. Though you might catch a chill. Furia grinned at her phone. But I swear I’ll warm you up after if that happens.

[SMS] You never mentioned compensation.

You know me. I take care of my friends.

[SMS] Be there in ten.

She slipped her phone in her pocket. “I’ll be back in about ten minutes. Going to wait for him downstairs.” Her announcement received a few affirmative nods and relieved looks. Several phones were put away and people went back to unpacking their supplies. Others went to setting up the dais in the center of the room.

Once outside, she pulled the collar of her coat up a bit, to help fight off a bit of the chill in the icy weather. Slush was everywhere, and every car that neared announced it presence with a mushy, wet sound. It just made her feel the cold even more. Fat, wet flakes fell and stuck to everything. Furia could even feel a few of them melting in her hair, turning to cold drops that slipped down to her scalp until she couldn’t feel them anymore. Letting her head tip back, she watched the dark swirling clouds move over head. They looked far more ominous than the chunky flurries that fluttered about the downtown street on a crisp breeze.

“Getting your fill of snow?” an amused voice called out.

Furia turned and smiled at Devin. “Something like that.” She pulled herself away from the wall and greeted him into a hug. Stretching up on her toes, she kissed him softly. “Thank you for doing this.”

“It could be interesting.”

She grinned at him, but didn’t let him go quite yet. “I’m sure I can talk them in to letting you leave the sunglasses on, too.” Her laughter widened her smile.

Devin went straight for the ribs, earning a squeak, but also freeing himself from her embrace.

“Troublemaker,” she scolded. Her hand found his. “Come on. The studio’s upstairs.”

Whatever it was about elevators, they were still a thing for her, because once the door closed, she inched back into Devin’s personal space. He didn’t seem to mind at all. In fact, his arms draped around her, encouraging her to move even closer. The kisses that followed began playfully enough, but swiftly deepened. When the car chimed the arrival at their floor, they were both a little flushed and perhaps eager to shed their coats.

Furia let him enter the studio first, then grabbed onto the collar of his jacket from behind to help him out of it. She hung his coat over hers near the door.

Nearly twenty heads turned with their arrival, all of them zeroing in on Devin with measured and inspecting glances. There were some nods, a few raised eyebrows, and more than a few blushing smiles from the men and women gathered for the session.

“Devin, everybody. Everybody, this is Devin. He volunteered to fill in for Bartholomew.”

A chorus of welcomes, thanks, and other assorted sentiments followed.

“I’ll show you where you can change,” Furia offered, slipping her hand around his elbow and giving it a little tug.

“This is a bigger class than I expected,” he said over her shoulder.

“The classes are free. So, they end up drawing a bigger crowd.” She kept her voice low, as if they had suddenly stepped into a library, though she couldn’t determine why.

They could only walk single-file down the hallway, it was dark and barely wide enough to accommodate Devin’s broad shoulders. The changing room wasn’t originally meant for that purpose, as he would probably be able to tell by the fact the closet was lined with cleaning supplies on the far wall. There was a hanging rack and a cushioned chair, but the room definitely was not designed as stripping room.

Furia led him into the room, because it was the only way she’d be able to get back out without having to shimmy herself across the width of his body. Since he was nice enough to come by and sit for them, she didn’t want to make it embarrassing for him by sending him out there all hot and bothered. Though as soon as the idea popped into her head, she kind of really wanted to do just that.

She bit her bottom lip and let him enter. “There’s a robe right here,” she said, pulling the door part way closed to show him the hook on the back of the door. “Hopefully, it will be long enough.” Her gaze moved from the pale purple robe to Devin and back a few times, before stopping on him finally.

“I’ll make due,” he assured her.

A part of her wanted to offer to help him out of his clothes, but self-control got the better of her. Though she did not leave without stealing another quick kiss. It deepened more than she’d intended, when he caught her face in his hands before she could pull away. If he wanted more, she’d acquiesce contentedly.

When it did break, she patted him on the chest. “Don’t take too long. Artists get testy when they are kept waiting,” she teased, giving him a wink.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

Furia wandered back down the hall, thinking that perhaps calling someone she knew might not have been the best choice, at least not for the two of them. More than likely she was going to spend the next hour thinking about everything but her lines while ogling him. She even considered moving her spot, so that she’d be behind him. Of course, that wouldn’t help either. Then she’d just spend the entire time thinking about how she’d want to nip her way down his spine.

Get a hold of yourself. The scolding voice in the back of her head, really wasn’t all that convincing. You’re an adult. Furia chuckled at herself. She knew damn well that age wasn’t a factor in whether or not she could keep her mind focused on the art while staring at a man she knew biblically. Having been there, ridden that did not preclude her from wanting to find herself in his arms again. Hell, whenever she’d drawn anyone she slept with, having them sit for her in the buff always ended the same.

This time around it was almost completely guaranteed, since she’d set it on the table with the invitation. She hadn’t cleared up the argument in her head by the time Devin peeked around the threshold of the door.

Furia held out a hand and gestured to the dais draped in warm looking blankets and pillows in a muted gray. “Make yourself comfortable,” she said with a playful smirk. When he neared his pedestal for the afternoon, she tugged at the collar of her dress to remind him he needed to leave the robe behind.

“Of course,” he replied in a delicately amused way that suggested he might not be wholly comfortable with the idea. Even so, Devin made a show of it; one that enraptured Furia and several others. His hand moved slow as he tugged the tie loose. When his robe shifted open, her tongue peeked out over her bottom lip.

It wasn’t her that gasped when he flicked the fabric over his shoulders and let it slide down his arms and to the ground with a flutter, but she understood the sentiment. Devin was a beautiful man, dressed and not. He was definitely a subject apt to be captured from every angle in a mix of mediums, which he would be today. She bit her bottom lip, appreciating the way he draped his long frame across the little stage set out for him.

All she could think of was that line from that movie: draw me like one of your French girls.

“Comfy?” she asked once he seemed to have found a spot that worked for him. “You’re going to have to be still for a while, so find a position that works for you.”

He nodded and shifted around until he was hunkered down against the pillows that seemed to be bearing him aloft like a cloud. His smile, though, was anything but angelic. “This work for everybody?”

He received a myriad of hummed and more coherent positive responses.

“Just remember to be still,” a gruff voice from the back of the room called.

“Got it,” Devin replied.

“Do you have any ear buds for music or something?” Furia asked as if she’d only just remembered how boring sitting could be. She couldn’t listen to music when she did it; she always moved with the beat no matter how hard she tried. “I’ve also got audio books,” she added.

“Let’s go with that.”

Furia set her sketch pad aside and dug through the bag at her feet. The headphones would automatically sync with her phone when she took them out of the case and handed them over. “Any particular genre?”

“Surprise me.”

Devin might regret that choice. A cheeky smile spread across her lips and she bit her bottom lip. She couldn’t resist toying with him just a little. Shaundi had found the hottest read recently and Furia thought this would be the perfect time to share it with Devin.

Once he nestled the little devices in his ears, she started the book for him on the first chapter, skipping the title or the introductory information. It would begin calm enough with delicious, rich language teasing and stretching his mind into a thoughtful location before veering it toward something more lush and surprising.

Furia sat back again and resettled herself. Pulling the book back onto her lap, she tapped the end of a charcoal pencil against her bottom teeth as her thorough study of him bordered on freely ogling. Her hazel eyes moved from the tips of his toes to the sunglasses perched atop his head; she took in every inch of him in a new way. While she’d made lengthy appreciations of his body before, she’d never noticed that bulging curve of muscle at the top of his knee or the way the accent of his abs curved toward at the bottom of his ribs like a tiny little smile-shaped dimple. His gaze was direct, focused on her she realized when her eyes met his. She couldn’t help the smile that shifted across her lips, there might have also been a trace of a blush on her cheeks at him having caught her studying him—even though that was the entire reason he was there.

He flashed her a quick wink. Furia couldn’t help but wonder if the way he had his hips shifted might just prove uncomfortable and leave him with a cramp. His attention proved as focused as everyone else in the room, though Devin stared at her and they all stared at him.

The pink on her cheeks probably deepened a few shades, if the warmth of her face was any indication. She bit her bottom lip as she finally set the tip of charcoal pencil to her paper lightly. It was intense, yet somewhat unnerving to find him looking at her every time she glanced up.

Swallowing at a nervous lump in her throat, she straightened her long legs out in front of her. Gravity played along, letting the fabric drag down toward the floor, baring them to the high mid thigh due to the extreme slit in the loose skirt.

Noticing the shift in his gaze, she decided that two could definitely play this game. There was nothing innocent or accidental in the way she shifted her legs against one another, how she crossed and uncrossed them, or the trail that the end of her pencil drew over her decolletage as she studied him time and again. All the while, he just laid there like the undeterred specimen of loveliness that he was, allowing himself to be captured in every inch of his glory by a dozen and a half strangers.

The hours flew by with minimal progress on her sketch. Furia usually didn’t have this problem, of course, it wasn’t every studio sitting that she had the subject staring at her like he’d seen her naked, or might be remembering her that way.

As the time moved toward a close, some artists packed up and left. Others lingered after gathering their materials to finish up. When the time was called by the studio manager, Devin was allowed to finally move. When he sat up, Devin discovered why Furia had offered the exchange she had. Clearly, by the way his motions slowed, his muscles were likely screaming. Furia knew the sensation; she’d sat once or twice herself and it had been murder each time.

“Doing all right, Osito?” she asked. Furia was in no rush to pack up. “A little stiff?”

“You didn’t warn me about that,” he countered.

She grinned at him. “Sorry about that. I was more worried you’d balk at lounging about in your birthday suit in front of a room full of strangers. Didn’t even think about the downside of being completely still for a few hours.”

By the time, he got to his feet and pulled his robe on they were almost alone. A few artists lingered, as did the studio manager, who was leaning in the doorway.

“I can lock up for you, Ray,” Furia offered, closing her book and setting it on the low chair she’d claimed before the plans of the day included another boss.

“Appreciate that.” He turned almost instantly and headed for the door.

“The running joke is that Ray has a second life that he runs off to after every studio,” she told Devin, explaining the reason the man so easily abandoned them there. “Some of them are convinced he’s a hit man or some kind of crime boss.” Clearly the idea amused her, if her smile were any judge.

“And here I was thinking you were just trying to get me alone in order to take advantage of me,” Devin said with a hint of a pout.

“Oops, you found me out,” she purred, strolling toward him with her hands clasped innocently behind her back.

“Did I?” His hands found her waist and pulled her close. She hummed against his lips when he kissed her. “Is there another class any time soon?” Apparently, he was good with the prospect.

Furia shook her head. “Nope. Not until tomorrow at 9 in the morning.”

He just hummed in reply as she ran her hands up his bare arms.

“So, I could keep you here all night long as my own private muse.”

“Oh, well if that’s what the art requires, how could I stand in the way?” He was so close, she could feel the shift of every word against her lips, but he just held the scantest bit of distance.

“You are so damn adorable,” she chuckled, pulling gently at the back of his neck to get his lips on hers.

His arms pulled tight around her as her fingers buried in the hair at the back of his head. Furia melted into his embrace, her body molding against the warmth of his. She could lose herself in this, his touch, his kiss, but maybe not until she locked the door. At least she realized it before someone just wandered into the studio.

Breaking the kiss, she relaxed her hold on him. “If we’re staying, I should probably lock up. Sitting for a crowd is one thing.”

A little grumble hung in his throat. He’d been lying naked thinking about having her legs wrapped around him for hours. What would another minute hurt? “Hurry back.”

She stretched up and pecked him before slipping out of his arms. “You know it.”

“Can I peek?” he called over his shoulder, noticing her sketchbook.

She stopped and spun in place. “Um. Maybe later,” she said, not sure there would be a later. She felt a bit weird denying his curiosity, but she was trying something new, something she wasn’t quite confident in. Besides, she hadn’t finished him yet, which is surely what he wanted to see. Confident he wouldn’t sneak a peek, she turned back to handle the door. At a jog, she rushed back into the studio to find that Devin had laid himself out on the dais again like an angel resting on stormy cloud.

With a grin, she admired him, then opted to even the playing field. Gathering her dress up in her hands, she pulled it over her head and dropped it on the floor near the robe he’d worn into that room. Her eyes didn’t leave his, except to place soft kisses near his ankle, then another on his shin. She nipped at the inside of his knee as she crawled toward him with a slow, measured pace dripping with intent. Devin sat up and took her face in his hands, bringing her lips back to his again for a kiss.

Furia moved to his insistence, letting him lead. She pressed against him when he pulled her down with him. Held him close when he rolled them over. His lips trailed down her neck, then traced a line that could have followed the neckline of her dress if she’d still been wearing it. It felt like the same path she’d traced multiple times that evening already, only softer and interspersed with sharp nips that left her cooing.

“Thought about doing that for the last hour. You and that damnable pencil,” he scolded. His fingers teased behind her back, making quick work of the clasp. He leaned over her and slid the straps of her bra over her arms. His fingertips grazed her skin with a hint of reverence, an artist in his own right appreciating his subject. His eyes moved over her hotly and all she could think of was feeling his mouth on her body again.

“Devin,” she sighed. There was a trace of wanton need in her tone, which she didn’t even try to disguise. Her fingers threaded through the hair just above his ears.

Perhaps because he heard the plea in her voice, or just because he couldn’t resist the allure of her bare skin, Devin blazed his own new trail along the curvy swell of her breast. His hand skimmed her ribs, cupping and squeezing her breast as he wrapped his mouth around her nipple. The pressure of that gentle suck, the flicker of his tongue, then the graze of his teeth just intensified the wantonness she’d been tending the entire session while he’d been laying there in front of her on display.

She buried her hands in his hair, more in encouragement and a desire to anchor herself in that sensation. “I’ve been thinking about getting my hands on since you walked out here,” she admitted

“That explains why you kept inching your skirt higher and higher,” he countered. The flat of his tongue pressed over her flesh.

“I was hoping you’d notice.”

He straightened against her, the heat of his body searing against her skin. His kiss demanded her full attention. “How could I not?” He brushed her hair away from her face, cradling her head and teasing his tongue into her mouth.

Furia had no answer to that question, save to keep kissing him. Her leg slipped over his hip and she shifted against him. He’d managed his self control for the last hour, and now with the studio emptied and the door locked, Devin had abandoned every single shred of it. He grabbed her ass and pressed hard against her, wrenching a low moan from her. She moved in tandem with him, until he broke the kiss.

With a bit of a rush, his mouth teased down her body. Anticipation coursed through her with every spot he kissed or tugged at with his teeth. He knelt between her legs, his hands tugging at the waistband of her panties. She lifted her hips, then raised her legs to help him strip away that final barrier between them. He caught one of her legs, and rested it against his chest. Soft wet kisses pressed against her ankle, along the length of her calf. He concentrated on her knee longer than she thought absolutely necessary, but his attentions were enticing.

She leaned back and allowed him the chance to tease her. As he crept along the length of her thigh, she let a hand sweep over her own skin. In its own way, it was another taunt targeted at him. Teasing her nipple to a taut peak earned her a sharp bite to the inner thigh, which prompted a vocal keen. It was the most delightful kind of oneupmanship. When he reached the apex of her thighs, her nails skimmed over her ribs, leaving pink trails in their wake.

Soft kisses quickened her breath and she couldn’t take her eyes off of him as he hovered there, teasing her with every breath and the promise of his proximity. A smile played across his lips, then he planted a gentle kiss right over her clit. She couldn’t help but shudder. That first gentle touch opened a flood gate of sensation. He touched her softly, languid licks and little pecks. The more vocally she responded, the more adamant and pressing his attentions became. She came with his fingers curled inside her and his lips wrapped around that engorged bundle of nerves that exploded in a flood of sensation; her hips moved of their own accord riding out a wave of pleasure against his tongue as he worked her over her peak.

A growling satisfied chuckle crept along her belly, paired with kisses. His hand did not abandon her body until she pulled his mouth back to hers wordlessly.

He settled himself between her legs, and despite the lingering softness in her limbs, she draped one leg over him and pressed her body against the length of his hard cock. Sated, yes. Desperate for more, also, yes.

“You know,” she laughed, when his lips were on her neck again. “I thought I’d at least get you home first.”

“Your mistake.” He leaned over her. “Over estimating my ability to resist you.”

Furia shook her head, she didn’t believe the claim, or maybe she just couldn’t. When she moved beneath him, he moved with her. “And it had nothing to do with the fact that almost everyone in this room was gawking at you.” He let her get him onto his back and she settled herself on his hips. With a slow shift, her body teased his arousal and with a little circle, she pressed her clit against the head of his cock. “I’m pretty sure your fan base might have grown this evening.”

“That’s not the only thing,” his hips rose playfully.

“I’m aware.” She abandoned him for a scant moment, stretching to the edge of the dais for her bag. Her own capacity for teasing, shortened considerably when he looked at her with that dark frenzy. “Guess we should address that, sí?” Sitting atop him again, she pressed more of her body against his.

For now, the condom stayed in her hand. She leaned over and kissed him hard. Her body hitched against his with a sense of desperation. She wanted him, wanted to feel him inside her, but she continued to deny them both.

His hand tightened in the hair at the base of her neck and he pulled her mouth away from his. His breathing was fast and deep when he pressed her forehead to his. “Fuck, Furia,” he growled, finding her gaze beneath the curtain of her dark waves.

“We’re getting there,” she teased with a laugh.

“I want you.”

She rolled her hips in a very deliberate motion. “I know.”

“Fuck me.”

Her lips found his again, and she gave in. Shifting enough to get her hands between them, she worked quickly to roll the condom down the length of him. She never broke the kiss, working blind. Lining him up, Furia sank down on him. The snap of his hips broke her slow, teasing motion and stole her breath. Clearly, he could only handle so much taunting, but she could not complain—Devin felt divine.

When his hips shifted downward, she moved in tandem, rising to make the inevitable meeting of their bodies all the more dramatic for both of them. Once she sat upward to show off her body for him, Devin’s hands held her thighs so tight she knew there’d be sweet bruises there in the morning to remind her of the pleasure they stole together that night. They’d be a tempting reminder of him, of how he made her feel, and what they’d shared.

She pressed her hands to his chest, which gave her the leverage to dramatically curve her body into every upward thrust of his hips. “Dios, Devin,” she growled. The way they moved pushed her closer, her hips pressing and grinding against his, chasing a fleeting tenuous sensation that would explode into uncontrollable convulsions of pleasure. Inching closer and closer, he seemed to sense it, or maybe he could just feel the tightening in her body. His hands moved over her skin in soft touches, sharp scratches, biting pinches. Then finally one hand clasped over her breast, massaging. When he teased at her aching nipples, the spark shattered with a silent scream brought the near constant wail of her moans.

The sporadic movement of her hips, the twitching of the muscles in her thighs, all belied the orgasm that shook through her. Furia collapsed against his chest, his arms encircling her immediately. His mouth found hers, and he fucked her though the irregular motions of her aftershocks. All the while, she moaned and whimpered against his lips, kissing him with frenzied abandon. Once a relaxed sense of control returned to her body, Devin rolled them over again.

Leaving a trail of kisses down her neck as he put a bit of distance between them once more. The angle he found, threatened to pull her apart again. Greedily, one of her hands scratched down his torso and found its way to her clit. Devin smirked at her, pulling one leg over his shoulder, which only made his stroke that much more pointed and seemed to direct every stroke against that searing spot inside her that throbbed. She knew she’d come again, maybe even before him.

Her eyes never broke his gaze. All flushed with a sheen of sweat glistening in the kind, soft light of the studio, he was as beautiful as ever. He felt even better. His lips pressed to her ankle, then nipped at the bony protrusion there.

“Oh, damn,” he growled when he felt it. The quiver that started around his cock, then spread through the rest of her like a Furia-sized earthquake. Their moans mingled in that open space, reverberating back to them. Her leg slipped down his arm as he leaned over her, thrusting harder and deeper with his own release, as if he could somehow fuck her right through the dais with enough determination. She clutched at his shoulders, keening incoherently.

He slowed, eventually stilling inside her. His body relaxed against hers, as their lips met again. This time the kisses were languid, decadent. She savored every lick, every taste of his mouth. Her fingers threaded through his hair as they laid there, still joined, at least for the moment. The heft of his cock inside her shifted as he softened.

There was a hint of reluctance, when his hand slipped between them and their bodies peeled apart. Both of them whimpered at the sudden, regrettable distance. Furia didn’t move at first, she just watched him sit up, then walk across the room and back. When he reached the dais again, she stood on the step, which almost evened out their height difference, and kissed him long and deep. He held her gently in his arms, touching her naked body lazily. She knew it wouldn’t take much for him to stir her up again, but she thought it might be best if that not happen here.

“Are you hungry?” she whispered against his lips.

He broke the kiss moments later to reply. “I could eat.”

The way he said it made her giggle. “Bet you could.”

His tongue flicked against her lips.

“How about I feed you, then you can have another helping of dessert?”

His arms tightened around her waist, and he lifted her off her feet. Moving her away from the dais, he set her on the ground not far from where some of her underwear had ended up. “Sounds like a plan. Your place, then?”

“Yeah. You can drive,” she said, wearing a telling smirk.

“No, not this time,” Devin chuckled. “Tonight we’ll have to see how you drive with my hand knuckles-deep.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” she taunted, slipping out of his grip to dress.

He pinched her on the rear, earning chirrup and a little hop away.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish,” she warned.

“Never,” Devin promised.

#IC Drabbles #A Saintly Muse #Badger Scribbles #ashandnovels #Beware Smut ahead

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opheliawillowbrook · 5 years

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Let the Record Show

A/N: So as stated, this fic has been written to provide closure to the infamous arc brought about in Nightwing #93 in which (if you are unaware-so spoilers!) Nightwing is raped by Tarantula (Catalina) after the death of Blockbuster because, (if you think like Devin Grayson) why the fuck not, right? Thankfully for those of you reading this, I don't. But in any case, my friend (Embrlee Frith) and I have discussed this arc in-depth and thought it (aside from most untactful) very poorly handled. Which is a shame since there really were some good bones to discuss, not just about rape, but also male rape victims in our society and the aftermath that all victims of sexual assault and rape survivors go through. However, as most of you are probably aware, DC and Devin Grayson sorta dropped that ball and refused to pic it back up. Though, to be fair, Ms. Grayson, being, well-Ms. Grayson, did try and clarify the scene by referring to it as "non-consensual sex" which is probably the most accurate example of an oxymoron one can bring to fruition, but that's a subject for another time. But given the sort of "mishandling" of the canon, I was commissioned by our lovely Ms. Frith to cover this subject matter and try and bring some closure to this event for both the reader and the character.

I'd also like to apologize to anyone offended by my words of Ms. Grayson. I'm clearly not a fan of her work (as I'm sure I've made it very clear) I just think as a writer this subject matter deserved far more respect than it got and this is my attempt at providing that.

I Also recently re-edited this story and hope the changes help make it feel finished. Please let me know what you think :) I also found a great song to go along with this fic. It's called "They're Not Horses, They're Dead Unicorns" by Bayside. So if you like a little music with you reading, you might enjoy it!

So if you're still reading this, I'd like to thank you. Let me know what you think and let's see if we can put this ghost to rest now, shall we?

As Always, With Love

-Ophelia

“She was a termite, Eating away at my roots. I was just a lost soul, who needed a home, I was filling, a void, with you.” --Bayside

He sat in a dark corner of the crowded bar at a small table by the foggy window. This was far from how he'd normally spend an evening, but tonight was far from a normal night. It had begun to rain over Gotham, the air thick with its dewy metallic scent. It almost smelled like blood—like her . He looked down at his half empty beer bottle, a little distressed that he was three drinks in, and the edge still wasn't off.

Drinking was always something he'd avoided, something he looked at as unnecessary and otiose, but in the wake of the past year, he'd built something of a tolerance to it. It was all he could do to cope at times. He didn't consider himself an alcoholic; he mostly only had a drink or two, but he still wasn't proud of the fact it was something he required now, that it was the only thing that came close to washing away that bitter taste.

It had been a year since he'd lost everything he'd worked so hard for. A year since he'd lost friends, his city, and the thousands of innocent lives within it. But worst of all, he'd lost a significant piece of himself, and he blamed himself for all of it. All because of one night, one choice and her.

The thought of her was nearly enough to make him sick as he downed a sip of beer to try and flush her foul taste from his mouth. However, the cheap beer and whisky was not enough to drown out the bitterness—that rotten taste he could just never get off his tongue. It was like he'd unknowingly bitten into a spoiled piece of fruit, only to find its sweetness was replaced with decay and maggots. He could still feel the invasive parasites crawl beneath his skin every now and then. At just the right moment, with just the right touch, or the right set of words. The feeling always left him feeling dirty, and no matter how hard he scrubbed or scratched, her touch would never wash off him. He'd wear her mark for the rest of his life.

What was worse was that he'd never told anyone about what had happened to him; he himself had a hard time believing its validity. In his mind, he tried to tell himself that what he thought happened was nothing of the sort. That the trauma of watching a man die was the reason for his physical and mental discord. Or at least that's what she'd told him.

Still, it never mattered how many times he tried to talk himself down, or how many times he tried to tell himself that what happened, hadn't happened at all. He could still never get that bloody taste out his mouth. He could even taste it on the air.

"I would have never pegged you as the drinking alone type," he heard a familiar voice say.

He looked up to find a single blue eye staring down at him, her lily-white hair draped around her black leather jacket.

"Rose," he said in a genuine shock, "what are you doing here? Why aren't you with the Titans ?"

"Yeah, about that," she said, taking a seat next to him, "that wasn't exactly hooking up. So I'm currently between jobs right now."

"Okay," Dick replied perplexed, "then what are you doing here?" he asked, entertaining some guilt that she'd gone out on her own. He was after all her mentor.

She shrugged somberly. "Well, I just found out that the closest thing I had to a best friend died…"

"Eddie…" he said ruefully, recalling that Tim recounted the incident, but he hadn't mentioned that Rose left the team. "I'm sorry."

She gave him a weak smile and stole a sip of his beer. "Don't be. Eddie died a hero, and in my book, he couldn't have gone out like more of a badass." She paused a moment, clearly remembering her friend. If anything, she was sad for herself, but refused to admit it. A lot like him.

"But with that being said," she added, "I'm here to drink my feelings and have a meaningless hook-up… Care to help a girl out, Grayson?"

She smiled at him coyly. He'd like to have thought she was joking, but he knew she wasn't. If Rose Wilson was anything, she was brutally honest, and he respected that.

"I can help you with the first half of your missions of self-destruction, but you're on your own with the latter."

"Eh, it was worth a shot," she shrugged, "but it's your loss."

"Somehow I'll live."

Sadly enough, part of him wanted to take her up on her offer. The idea of losing himself in another for a few hours was a tempting way to momentarily ease him of his current torment. However, he knew once the sheets were dirtied and the sweat was dried, he'd be right back where he began. Rose was also a little too young for him, and he didn't feel like adding statutory to his already stained morality. Though it seemed to be the least of her worries. But if nothing else, she'd make good company for his misery.

He ordered her a drink, mostly because he knew that if he didn't, she'd find someone else who would. And he'd have much rather been the man feeding her alcohol than one of the many seedy low-lives who'd jump at the chance to hinder the autonomy of a pretty 17-year-old girl. Not that Dick worried about Rose's ability to take care of herself. He knew she was more than capable, but if breaking one rule prevented her from making a horrible mistake, then he didn't see the harm in it.

The two sipped their beers and talked about their losses and gains. Though somehow they felt their losses were what made them who they were.

Dick took notice at how much Rose had matured, she'd oddly grown up a lot in the past year. She was still very much the same: Hot-headed and unpredictable, but she'd begun to understand how to use those things to her advantage. Dick couldn't help but feel a sense of pride. At least he'd done something right.

They both finished their drinks, and when Dick glanced up to the bar to get a second round, he froze.

It's never gonna stop...

Rose noticed his sudden shift, his face paused, his eyes staring blankly ahead.

"You okay?"

He snapped out of it and looked at her. "I have to go."

He took out his wallet and threw a couple bills down on the table, hurrying himself to leave. But it was too late, she saw him.

She stood at the bar, waiting for the bartender to fix her drink. She looked like she were dressed for a funeral, as though she were burying her third husband. Her black dress was low, showing off the prominent curves of her breasts, her lips painted red, like they were stained with his blood. But it didn't matter how pretty she looked. For beneath that low black dress and behind that lipstick smile she flashed at him, he could see just how ugly she truly was.

Suddenly it was like the world stopped turning and the ground fell from beneath his feet. He was back in that moment again, like the scar had been ripped open with a dull knife, the blade delving deep into his dignity.

It's never gonna stop...

"Dick?" He could hear Rose's voice, distant, like she were 100 miles away. "Are you okay?"

"I don't know..."

He took off, practically running out the door, pushing past the crowd of people until he was out in the pouring rain. It was as though he couldn't breathe, like his lungs had filled with a toxic smoke, smothering him in with past he just couldn't shake. He could feel the rain hitting his face, a sensation he'd once found clean and refreshing, only now it felt like an affliction, like a cancer burning into his skin. Convicting him with the sins he'd committed, and the ones committed against him.

Rose had immediately run after him, knowing something was deeply wrong.

"Dick! Dick, wait!" Rose called, her platinum hair looking grey beneath the foggy rain. "Are you okay—what happened?"

He didn't stop, he just kept moving, not sure what to say. "I just need to go home, Rose."

It was a terrible excuse, but it was the best he could come up with. Plus, what could he really say? He couldn't even admit the truth to himself, never mind a teenage girl who held him in such high standing.

"It's okay, you can tell me," she urged, but he still wouldn't stop. "It was that girl, wasn't it?"

He stopped. The rain beating down on him like it had in that very night a your ago.

"She did something to you, didn't she?"

He turned, at a loss, not even sure what to say, but before he could speak, he saw her again.

She'd stepped out of the bar, just under the overhang, looking out at him through falling sky. He stared at her for a minute, part of him wanting to show her how badly he hurt. How deeply that scar through his heart ran. But another part of him was still too afraid to even look her in the eye. For a moment he thought she'd try and approach him, but she didn't, and at first, he couldn't understand why. Then it hit him. And no, it had nothing to do with melting Wicked Witch of the West style.

Rose...

She had now locked her eyes on the woman beneath the overhang, keeping herself from the damp air.

Dick wasn't sure what would come next. Part of him wondered if Rose would, well, pull a Rose and throw a right hook across Catalina's face. Or if Catalina would say something in an attempt to dismiss the younger girl. Something he knew wouldn't go over well.

However, Rose surprised him. She turned her scowling face away from the woman in black and walked toward Dick.

"Come on," she said over the percussion of rain. "This place will let anyone in, we're better off at your place."

The whole speech was a jab at Catalina. She didn't need her mentor to tell her anything, she already knew. Like she could smell that primal fear radiating off him, or possibly even something about the way that woman looked at him. Her smile gilded with something predatory, hungry for self-satisfaction and the taste of blood on her tongue.

Rose took him by the arm and led him away, the rain still pouring down around them. It's humid smell rising from the flooded pavement beneath his feet. Dick could still feel her eyes on him, a feeling of shame ricocheting down his spine as he was whisked away by his own protégé, the old one merely watching as she did so. He'd faced murderous mad men, violent Metahumans, and bloodthirsty demons, but somehow, a simple human woman was the greatest monster he'd ever faced. A woman he could have easily overpowered, yet somehow couldn't. The thought left a deep wound in his masculinity, like he failed as a man, like maybe he'd let it happen. These poisonous thoughts were something he'd become accustomed to ever since Catalina had taken matters into her own hands.

By the time they made it back to Dick's apartment, they were both soaked to the bone. He could feel the filthy rain collecting along his jaw and dripping heavily from his chin as he unlocked the door. Rose noticed his hands were shaking and he cursed at himself as he struggled to steady them. He finally got the key into the lock and turned it, looking around before entering the safety of his home. They entered the reasonably sized studio apartment, and Dick flicked on the light. He closed the door behind them, locking the knob, deadbolt, and key chain. Rose, of course, thought it was a bit overkill, but given his reaction to the woman at the bar, she'd have done the same thing.

"She's really got you on edge," Rose said, pulling off her soggy coat. "Who is she?"

"No one."

"Well, then she's a whole lot of no one ." Rose grimaced. "I'm sensing "They're Not Horses, They're dead Unicorns," vibe?"

"Something like that…" he sighed, wiping the rain from his brow, "only in the darkest context possible."

"What do you think she wants?"

He looked up at her. He hadn't really thought of that. It had been a year since he'd seen her last, since he just walked away and never looked back. She got what she wanted, why would she come back now?

"Fuck," he huffed blankly and sat down. His mind digging up an old thought he'd once had, one he prayed wouldn't come to fruition.

Rose could see the lost look in his eyes and the disparity quaking in the space where his heart used to be. This was nothing new to her. Whatever he lost, he'd lost it before they'd met. Only now she was beginning to understand what that was. She could now see just where that jaded and cynical nature came from, exactly what cracks left him shattered. Unlike many, she was actually about to see exactly what slipped through those cracks, exactly what had been taken away from him.

"I take it whatever she did to you, you're not over it?"

He looked at her with an ill expression and ran his hand through the fringe of his damp hair. "I don't know if I'll ever be over it," he said ruefully. That was the closest he'd ever come to admitting it, to saying it aloud.

Rose looked down, that was all she needed to hear. He didn't need to say more.

"I'm sorry that happened to you."

He glanced up at her and smiled at a loss, but also for the fact that she didn't laugh at him, that she didn't seem to judge him for it. "I just don't know what I'm supposed to do," he admitted. "Some days I can live it, then come days like this, where I can barely get my shit together."

She could understand that feeling, knowing how it felt to want to shed the scars that bind you, only you can't help but be who they've made you.

"You can talk about it if you want."

"Thanks," he said, and smiled falsely, "but talking about it is something I'm still not quite able to do." He took a deep breath and looked down at his hands, like it were they that had betrayed him. "I just don't understand it completely. And honestly, I just wanna forget it ever happened."

"But your body won't let you."

He nodded painfully, almost feeling like he had to vomit. He had to change the subject. "Sorry I ruined your night."

Rose smiled and shrugged nonchalantly. "No big deal, you probably saved me from making a poor life choice."

"That's probably true," he conceded with a nod.

"Yeah, seriously. Once my brain tastes alcohol it's like it's go time! Let's make some fucking mistakes! And see how quickly you can ruin the life you work so hard for..." she broke into a slight giggle. Rose was often amused with her on sense of humor.

Dick shook his head, well aware that Rose Wilson and alcohol were not meant to be in good company with each other. That girl could do a whole lot of damage and end up with one hell of a hangover. But he laughed anyway.

"But hey, now I can technically say I went home with Nightwing. I got braggin' rights now."

He shook his head at her shit-eating grin, realizing she'd probably use that to piss off daddy . It would also do little for either of their dwindling reputations, but he had bigger problems to worry about.

"I know you don't wanna talk about it, but I get the feeling you think she found you," Rose said. "Is she capable of that?"

Unfortunately enough, she was. She was an ex-FBI agent, after all. She probably knew exactly where he was this entire time and he never even thought to look behind him. But truth be told, he didn't want to know. It was easier if he didn't go looking for her in every shadow that haunted every corner.

"Yeah."

"Do you think she's been following you?"

He didn't want to think of that either, but he wouldn't put it past her. "Yeah, and it wouldn't be the first time."

"Jesus." Rose scowled. "When was the last time you saw her?"

"A year ago."

"So what's she doing, slinking up from Hell for some fresh air, thinking she'd just drop by, say hello?"

Dick grimaced. "I'm honestly really afraid to find out…" The look on his face hardened, consequence tying his tongue.

"Oh…" She paused a minute, thinking about how devastating that would be. To have something so heavy thrust upon you; forever tied to the person who'd already taken so much. "Well, if it makes you feel any better, and I really hate to say this, but there's no way she'd look like that if she'd dropped a fucking kid like three months ago."

Dick looked up at her. Only Rose would say something like that.

"I mean her tits would be like on the floor," she added crassly. "She could take a fucking eye out with those puppies, and I should know."

He glared at her, not sure whether to scowl or laugh. On one hand, her banter was oddly amusing, and on the other, he had a really hard time accepting humor in that moment. But maybe that was his problem.

"Rose, I know you're just trying to help, but if you could stop talking about how hot Catalina is, that would be great."

"Hey, I never said that walking gash was hot, I just said her fucking boobs could have their own gravitational pull," she corrected. "Life's not fucking fair, man," she added referring to her own humble cup size.

"Yeah, it's not," Dick accorded coldly, and he couldn't have agreed more.

His life had literally become one horrible montage of one bad thing after the next, and it all started the second she showed up. In the beginning, he actually felt guilty for feeling that way, like it was somehow unfair of him to blame her for things that came of his own volition. But with time, it simply just became part of his coping mechanism. Catalina equaled death, devastation and rape, and he just couldn't see past that. He liked to think if he'd just never met her, or if he'd just thrown her ass in jail when he had the chance, that everything would be different. Maybe nobody would have died, and that Blüdhaven would still be standing today.

What was worse, and the thing that ate at him the most, was that he'd willingly invited her into his life. He'd delivered himself like some naive lamb to slaughter because he'd actually once felt sorry for her. That's what it had always come down to. She had a shitty life, it wasn't her fault. If he had just been a better man, or a better mentor , she wouldn't have turned out like that. It didn't seem to matter that she was a grown woman and should have known better, he still made excuses for her. But now, he couldn't excuse that she was stained in his blood and the blood of others, and he couldn't do shit about it. Catalina was literally like a flesh-eating bacteria to him. A termite eating away at his body and soul.

"You've never actually confronted her, have you?" Rose asked, once again pulling him into the now.

He sighed and shook his head. "Not really—no. There was so much going on after it happened and I was still kinda in shock. She told me I wasn't thinking straight and that the trauma I'd experienced made me look at it that way. I believed her because I wanted to, but as the shock wore off and I began to see how far she'd burrowed into my life… I knew I was right."

He seethed a moment, that foul metallic taste overcoming his mouth.

"She was literally taking over my life, acting like she'd done nothing wrong—acting like she belonged with me. I couldn't take it, so I left."

"That's when you started mentoring me…" Rose said, having a rough idea of the timeline.

Dick looked up, it really was ironic. He'd been so badly burned by one protégé, and the other was the only thing keeping him from crawling out of skin.

"Yeah, you turned out fine, though."

"Yeah, because of you," Rose urged. She owed him everything. Without Dick Grayson, who knew where she'd be. "Without you, I could never be a hero."

He looked at her fondly, but he knew she didn't feel like one. He didn't feel like one either.

"Y'know," Rose began, "sometimes you gotta take your pound of flesh and just walk away."

"I'm really not one for revenge, Rose."

"I saw the way you looked at her, Dick," she said, sitting next to him, "like if you could kill her and get away with it, you would."

He didn't say anything, but that was exactly how he felt, only he knew it wouldn't change anything. It wouldn't fix him.

He rose from the couch and walked to a drawer, he opened it and took out an old shirt, throwing it over to Rose.

"You should change out of those wet clothes. There's a laundry room downstairs if you wanna throw your stuff in the drier."

She caught the shirt and nodded. "Yeah, there's no way in Hell I'm leaving you alone tonight. Not with Psycho Bitch on the prowl."

He smiled. "Wanna order a pizza?"

"You paying?"

After that, the two talked about why Rose left the Titans, and why she felt she didn't really fit there. They talked about Eddie, and how Rose had asked him to leave with her. That was a little painful.

Rose asked how things with Barbara were going (they were supposed to get married, after all.) However, the answer was nowhere. Apparently Dick was having a hard time functioning in the relationship, specifically because Barbara was always so micro-focused on everything he did. From what she understood, that was nothing new. Barbara had a reputation for being a little unforgiving, especially when it came to Dick. And Rose could totally understand why he didn't feel comfortable opening up to her about what he'd been through. He wanted her to see him as strong and competent. He'd probably feared she'd think he were exaggerating, or scold him for being too trusting with Catalina in the first place. And though his fears weren't necessarily warranted, she understood why he felt that way. Nobody wants the love of their life to see them as damaged.

He apparently tried his hand at a few other relationships, but nothing really seemed to fit. Everything just seemed uncomfortable, and in some cases, much like with Barb, they just didn't have the patience for his newfound affliction. It's like everything just felt so disconnected.

His concept of touch was altered, and not the violent sort, the intimate kind. Little gestures made his stomach sink, especially if he wasn't expecting them. There were times when a woman he was deathly attracted to would lean in, and he'd pull away without a second thought. It had just become instinct. Even something as simple and comforting as a hug had become a perversion of itself. He hated how things of such simple kindness now held such rue and disdain. Things that once breathed of love and strength were now among the things he feared most. It was like the ties to his humanity were cut clean from his bones.

Dick looked at the time to find the hour was far beyond late, and he was beginning to feel it as well.

"I think I'm gonna turn in," he said. "You can take the bed."

Rose shook her head. "No, I'm good with the couch. Unless, you wanna share the bed with me," she said with a sly grin.

"No offense," Dick said, and smiled, "but I'd rather take the couch. Nice try, though."

"What can I say, I'm not a quitter."

"And I admire that, but you're off-limits."

She smirked at him, as if his comment gave her some vague validation. "Yeah, but if you change your mind, the offer's still on the table," she added mischievously. "But for real, I'll take the couch. You're much taller than me, it's not really fair to make you sleep on it."

"You're not making me, I'm offering."

"And much like my offer, I'm not taking yours."

"Okay, then," Dick said, picking up a pillow. "Oh, and Rose…"

She turned and looked over at him questionably.

"If you pull that shit you pulled on Tim, I'm gonna kick your ass."

He threw the pillow at her and she smiled, actually looking a little embarrassed.

"Um, I plead the fifth," she replied, catching it. "But, I will say that I was absolutely shit-canned that night and my crowning achievement of the evening was that I didn't die."

"Sounds like you made some fucking mistakes."

"Oh, you know it."

"Night, Rose," he said, crawling into bed.

"Night, Deathwing."

He rolled his eyes. "I hate that name."

"I know."

He didn't get much sleep that night. For even in the still silence, his brain would not shut off. His body desperately ached to shut itself off, but this primal force would not allow it. He lay in bed, just staring at the ceiling, shuffling through the thoughts and fears. Counting the losses, wondering if there was anything gained through any of it, but he just couldn't seem to find anything.

Rose was fast asleep, curled up in a ball on the couch. He took a deep breath, both out of loss and boredom.

He couldn't help but wonder where she was then, where'd she'd been. If she'd been there this entire time, and he just hadn't seen her until now. What did that say if she had?

He finally found the word that he'd been searching for. The word that best described the vile taste in his mouth. The one that brought validation to the feeling he'd been struck with when he'd noticed her dressed all in black.

"Violated," he whispered into the darkness. That's how he felt—how he'd felt ever since the moment she'd touched him. Everything she'd done after that, and even before, was a violation of his life, his morality, his body and above all—his sanity.

He wondered if she'd even seen it that way. If there was one thing wrong with Catalina, it was her moral compass, but he couldn't see that as an excuse any longer. He couldn't accept that she just didn't know any better. If anything, that made it worse.

When the morning finally came, Dick had managed to snag a few meager hours of sleep, but it was better than nothing. He got up, showered, and made some coffee, the smell rousing Rose from what he could only describe as a near coma.

Lucky little bitch.

She stretched out on the couch like a lazy house cat who wanted her belly rubbed, but she wasn't so lucky.

"It lives," Dick said, bringing her a cup of much-needed coffee.

She smiled tiredly, sleep fresh in her eye. "Yeah, there were a few hours there where my soul was like, I should probably go …"

"Well, then consider this coffee the rejection notice to your DNR."

She took the mug and thanked him, taking a generous sip.

"So where you off to from here?" he asked, heading back behind the counter.

She shrugged. "Not sure yet. I'll probably just wander around until something sticks."

"And what if it doesn't?"

"Then I'll revise the game plan," she replied flatly. "Or maybe retire to Florida and die."

"You're kinda young for that," he laughed.

"When has age ever stopped me?"

He raised a brow. "Good point."

"What about you?" she asked. "What's next for Nightwing? "

"Breakfast." He took a carton of eggs from the fridge and a package of bacon. "You like bacon, right?"

"Uh, yeah," she replied, stretching again. "Anyone who doesn't can't be trusted."

"That's what I like to hear. Eggs scrambled?"

"Sure," she laughed, rising from the couch and leaning against the counter.

He noticed the shit eating grin on her face, he had to ask. "What's so funny?"

"Um, I'm wearing your T-shirt and you're making me breakfast, and the best part is, I didn't even have to blow you."

God, she has no filter, he thought. If that was her way of flirting, then at least one would always know where they stood with her.

"Well, I hate to ruin your little school girl fantasy, but would you mind beating the eggs?" he said, handing her a bowl and a whisk.

She smirked and opened her mouth to speak, but he cut her off at the pass. "And do not say what I know you're about to say."

"Oh you're no fun—I'm only kidding."

He laughed. "Rose, we both know you're not kidding."

She smiled coyly. "Guilty, but what do you want from me? At least I'm fun—unlike Kara. Now that girl's got a serious problem. You should see her Pinterest page. It's fucking creepy, and so is Cassie's…"

"I don't even understand what Pinterest is."

"Keep it that way, I wish I had. Girls get uber creepy on Pinterest." Rose paused a moment. "Speaking of creepy. I can only imagine what Cuntberry's Pinterest page looks like."

"Now I'm really happy I don't know what Pinterest is."

They went on to make breakfast and eat, continuing their banter, going on about old teammates and who was where. Dick offered to clean up while Rose took a shower, not that she needed an excuse to skip out on the cleanup. When she was done, she got dressed and ready to head out.

"You need anything," he asked, walking her out of the building, "like money or—"

"Thanks," she said, cutting him off, "but I'm good. Plus with a face like this, free alcohol won't be in short supply."

"I meant like... for food and a place to stay." He scowled playfully.

"I'm fine, my mom left me some money. So I'll be good until I figure out what the hell I'm doing."

"Well, I think you should go back to school."

"I have my GED, that's fine."

"A degree would better," he replied, pushing the door open. "You're a smart girl, it would be a shame to waste that."

"That coming from the boy who dropped out of Hudson University ... and became a cop."

"Hey, I got great benefits with that job."

"Yeah, 'cause being a trust fund brat doesn't pay, right?"

He pushed her playfully, and she punched his arm. "Ah," he whimpered, forgetting how strong she was. "So violent."

"Like you can't take it," she said, stepping out on the sidewalk. "So I guess this is me…"

He shrugged looking back at her and stepped out the door. "So where you staying?"

"Shitty motel, other side of town."

"Sounds swanky."

"It's kinda charming… if you like crime scene tape, the smell of burnt cigarette ash and a gratuitous amount of prostitution."

"Sounds a lot like your childhood."

She burst out laughing as if she didn't laugh she'd cry. "Sadly true. Lord only knows the damage I've suffered at the hands of my parents."

He smiled, reaching into his pocket, and took something out. "Here," he said, holding a pre-pay phone. "My number's already programmed in it. If you need anything, let me know."

She smiled gratefully and took the device. "Does that also include—" she began mischievously, until Dick stopped her.

"3am booty calls—no."

"Damn," she sighed. "Worth a shot though. And thank you… for putting up with me and my nonsense."

"Well, your nonsense actually helped me get through a pretty tough night so… thank you."

"Well, if you need anything, I'll probably be around later."

"I'll keep that in mind." He smiled.

She began to turn, but stopped and turned back to him. "Y'know how you're always telling me to not be so hard on myself and that I shouldn't be dwelling on the past because I can't change it and all that shit?"

He shrugged. "Yeah, vaguely."

"You should do the same," she replied. "You can't change what happened, but you can be stronger for it."

He looked at her a moment. She may not have been without her faults, but she really did possess a heart of gold. And he couldn't have been prouder of her.

He pulled her into a hug, slightly taking the girl by surprise, but she quickly relaxed into it.

"Thank you," he whispered. "It's nice to know I did something right."

She smiled against his shoulder. "You saw the good in me when I couldn't, I thought you deserved the same," she said, then finally pulled away. "Well this has officially gotten far too sappy for my liking. I'm off like a prom dress, Grayson."

"Bye, Rose!" He waved. "And be good!"

A smug expression fixed on her face. "I can make no such promise," she droned, "but for you, I'll try…"

He watched her leave, hoping she too, would find her place in the world. It would be a shame if she didn't. When she was gone, he turned to go back upstairs when a thought crossed his mind. A thought that raised the hair on the back of his neck. He looked around, it was like he could feel her , like he knew she was there, but he just couldn't see her.

I'm just being paranoid, he thought. I need to stop thinking about this.

He grudgingly shook off the feeling and headed back into his building. When he reached his apartment, he dug into his pocket, and his heart dropped.

"Damn it," he hissed, realizing he'd misplaced his key.

It wasn't really that big of a deal, he was more than capable of breaking into his own apartment. He just didn't really feel like doing it. He looked around, and noticed an old bobby pin lying on the floor, not far from where he stood.

"Perfect."

He picked up the pin and bent it back, he'd have the lock picked in no time. He placed his hand on the knob and inserted the pin, but before he could go to work on the lock, he realized the door was unlocked.

He froze. "No, it can't be…"

He turned the knob with an unsteady hand and slowly pushed the door open. He peeked his head in, looking around to see if anyone was there. He finally found the nerve to step inside. Part of him actually contemplating calling Rose and asking her to come back.

Fucking man up, Grayson , he thought, silently scolding himself, especially since a year prior this would have been nothing to him.

He looked around, nothing seemed to have been touched or out of place, everything was just the way he'd left it… except for one thing.

His eyes fell on his pillow; there was something lying there, something that just didn't belong. He approached his bed, slowly, readying himself for anything that came his way in that moment. Deep down, he hoped he was just over-exaggerating, that maybe Rose had left it there for him. But any hope of that was dashed when he peered down at the envelope and saw her handwriting, scratched across the white paper in red.

Mi Amor, it read as he picked it up, a vile mix of anger, fear, disgust and bitterness pressing into his flesh as he held it.

She was here…

His knees buckled and he collapsed, too overcome by the thought that she'd been in his home. That she could, and did, actually take that security away from him. How could she? Did she actually think this tactic was romantic? Or was this simply just a power play? How long had she been waiting for him to leave? She had to have been watching him.

He felt sick and threw the letter down, scrambling for the waste basket, his body violently purging the contents of his stomach. He dry heaved a few times, his breath tight, his heart pounding in his throat. His face was hot, everything was hot.

He tried to focus, and pull himself out his current state of duress. "Think of something else…"

But he couldn't. And the truth was, that was what she wanted. She didn't want any other thought to cross his mind, she wanted that space for herself. She wanted to consume him.

He sat there a while, forgetting about time, his mind just completely racing until it finally grew numb. Everything went numb.

He resented it—feeling like a victim, but he was one, and he hated her for it. He hated how weak he'd become and how easily he crumbled at the mere thought of her. He hated that she'd infiltrated him and festered in his mind. That she was the source of such rotten memories, each one decaying as he slept, the infection spreading through his consciousness and destroying his sanity cell by cell.

He looked down at his hands, flashing back to an image that had burned itself in his mind, one that made him recoil. He could see her face through the billowing shadows and the silver flecks of rain, her eyes cast down on him. Through the still frames, his quaking hand reached up to stop her, but failed to do so, his objection falling on not a deaf ear, but an ignorant one. He felt empty, like he'd died, his heart ceasing to beat, but somehow, left watching from his empty shell. Like a cage with a dead bird inside.

Now, in that very hand, he held the letter, nearly forgetting it was there. He didn't want to open it, he didn't care what she had to say, or how she felt, or how fucking crazy she was. None of that mattered, she'd already taken too much. She could kill him for all he cared, at least then it would be over.

He pulled himself together and tore the envelope open. He took out the piece of fine paper, a faint scent hitting him like a ghost he was far too familiar with. It was her perfume, an odious blend of mahogany and teakwood. It was slightly musky and wreaked of her cruel brand of femininity. The smell was enough to force his flesh to crawl, his hand aching as his eyes flashed with the loathsome image of her shadow in the rain.

He took a heavy breath and unfolded the note, the same red ink staining the purity of the pale page, his stony blue eyes growing grey as the storm rolled in.

To my dearest Amor, Mi Tesoro,

(And if that wasn't enough to induce vomiting...)

It's been far too long, I know. My time away from you has been nothing but agonizing. I tried—I really did—to stay away like you asked of me, but… I just couldn't. And to be honest, if I could find a way to tie you to me so that you'd never leave me again—I would. No one could ever love you the way I do, or as much as I do, Mi Amor.

As for the last time we saw each other, I forgive you. I know you were in a dark place then, and I'm hoping you'll let me help to ease that pain. I would die for you, I hope you know that.

I'm sorry to contact you like this, but I cannot stand the thought of you rejecting me in person—not again. I want to start over with you, I want things to be different between us. Please meet me tonight at the bar. After seeing you last night, I can't wait any longer. I don't know what I'll do if you don't show… Please just give me this one thing.

If for whatever reason you decide not to show, just know I love you with my dying breath, and know I always will…

Todo Mi Amor, Catalina

Her words read like sugar laced with cyanide, delusional and so far removed from the suffering she'd caused. Like she'd come back to rip what was left from his half-empty chest. The letter still hung in his hands, the red ink somehow disturbing to him. Granted, the whole gesture was disturbing to him. She'd violated his privacy, his home, his body, and written down every word of it as though it were love. And maybe it was-the deadly kind .

He looked again at that last line, those deathly sweet words bring him back to one moment.

It's never gonna stop…

And, indeed, it was never going to stop.

He buried his face in his hands, rubbing his eyes, trapped in grief. He just didn't know what to do. He tried running off, he tried sending her away. He'd literally had her locked up and thrown away the key, and still, she somehow managed to slither her way out of that. What could he do now?

He finally removed himself from the floor and made sure every window and door was locked up tight. He immediately ripped off all his clothes and took another shower in a feverish, angry fashion, the water so hot it nearly blistered his skin, and remained that way until it finally ran numbingly cold. But he still felt dirty.

He got out of the shower and looked at his worn face in the mirror. He felt as though he'd aged about a thousand years, yet he was trapped in the body of a twenty-something year-old man. A shell of who he used to be. That foul taste still sour in his mouth, mixing with the sick taste of bile. If only she were like old gum to him, momentarily sweet, but tasteless, something he could spit out and forget. He did his best to brush away the putrid flavor, but like so many nights he'd endured, he just couldn't rid himself of her aftertaste.

He didn't bother getting dressed, he just crawled into bed and lay there, wishing he could sleep, but such a mercy was not granted to him. As the hours passed, he thought about the yesterdays: The long sleepless nights, the following days after Blockbuster's death and what came of it. Each frame passed by him like a fog, like ghosts without names, aimlessly moving through him. Their cold hands removing pieces of him and burying them beneath wilting flowers where they'd lie forgotten, rotting away into nothing.

After a few hours of silently wasting away, he looked at the time. It was a little after 5pm. He was hungry, but he didn't really care, mostly because it didn't matter what he ate, he'd still taste her.

His phone rang, startling him. He missed the days when he wasn't so jumpy. Now if someone so much as touched him, his skin would crawl. He didn't want to bother getting it, but knew if he didn't, it might raise some concerns on the other end. He just hoped it wasn't anything important. Or better yet, he hoped it wasn't her.

"Hello?"

"Hey," he heard Rose say, "whatcha up to?"

Lying in bed contemplating killing myself. "Nothing, thinking about making dinner. You?"

"Eating dinner, and binge-watching Dexter. "

"That sounds… like a weird combo…"

"Yeah, this show makes me hungry, as do most things, really."

Dick shook his head. She really did take after her uncle Wade.

"So did you just call to tell me about how watching a serial killer dismember other serial killers makes you wanna polish off a second plate of ribs, or did you actually need something?"

She giggled a moment, but then got back to the matter at hand. "No, I was calling to see how you were. Y'know, that whole song and dance…"

He smiled vaguely, but felt guilty. He didn't want to lie to her, but that was exactly what he was going to do.

"I'm fine, Rose. You don't need to worry about me," You have enough to worry about…

"You sound a little…" She paused, trying to find a delicate way to put it. "Y'know, like you're thinking of going down the street instead of across it." Well… delicate for her.

He sighed. "It's not like that."

It kind of was.

"Anything I missed?"

He looked down at the letter. "Nope, just still a little shaken from last night, that's all."

"Y'know, if you want me to, I can come over…"

Part of him really wanted the company, but the other part of him didn't want to drag her in any deeper than she was. "I'm fine, Rose. I'm still trying to figure shit out."

"I know," she replied. "I just know how hard it is when the very thing that emptied you is out there and you know it."

She may have been young, but she knew a lot about betrayal, abuse, and heartbreak. Though in Dick's case, heartbreak wasn't at all the right term. It was more like having his heart cut out.

"Do you think if I confronted her," Dick asked cautiously, "it would be a bad idea?"

There was a pause from Rose's end, and he could hear her breath hitch slightly. "No," she finally began, "I think if that's what you need to do, then you should do it." There was conviction in her voice. She understood all too well. "But Dick…"

"Yeah."

"If you do, just know that it will probably end badly. You never really know what you're capable of when someone who's hurt you that deeply is standing right there in front of you… You might not even know what she's capable of."

She wasn't wrong. Dick could think of one particular moment where he'd come dangerously close to bludgeoning Catalina to death. His outburst frightened him. He'd never before been that angry or volatile, and the fact was, in that moment, he wanted kill her.

Maybe I shouldn't go…

"But I understand that maybe you need to face her, let her see what she did to you. Let her know what will happen if she ever tries to do that to you again…"

He took a deep breath, he'd never really gotten the closure he needed. He was too wrapped up in everything else. Not to mention, part of him was still in denial, trying forget it ever happened. But it didn't matter how many times he told himself it was a simple "misunderstanding," or how many times he tried to chalk it up to guilt, it still happened, and it happened to him.

"So what do you have on the agenda tonight?"

He could hear Rose click her tongue, and she replied, "I was gonna polish off a third plate of ribs," she joked, "but if you have a suggestion, I might be down…"

"I was thinking of getting a drink… "

A few more hours had passed. Dick had gotten dressed and finally left his apartment, which took more effort than he liked to admit. However, it helped to know that he wasn't going into this situation blindly or alone.

The rain from the night before had dissipated, the air cool as the wind blew over his shoulder. The street was unusually quiet for once. It was peaceful, but unnerving, much like the past year. Hopefully that meant something—something good.

Each step took a little more persuasion than the last, each muscle recalling the touch of her cold hands, the stink of the rain and emptiness that followed all of it. The only thing that drove him was the notion that this might lead to the end. That whatever followed tonight was for the better. He just hoped, silently prayed it was true.

He finally approached the bar, and that uncomfortable feeling grew tighter in chest. It reminded him of how he felt after he'd lost his parents. The loss and uncertainty colliding together like the harsh winds and rains of a hurricane, leaving a lifetime of devastation in its wake.

He paused when he got to the door. Part of him wanted to turn away and just forget about the whole thing. However, he wasn't sure what would happen in the fallout if he did. He took another deep breath, and pulled the door open. The bar wasn't overly crowded, unlike the night before. The table by the window was open, and he sat himself down like he'd never left. He looked around, trying to get a better sense of his surroundings. Rose was already sitting in the back corner, polishing off what looked like a Mai Ti, the poor guy next to her probably striking out. She glanced over at Dick with a sly grin, and bit into the cherry left in the boozy remnants of her drink.

Yeah, the poor bastard's not getting very far with her.

Dick looked around. Catalina was nowhere to be found, and part of him hoped it would stay that way. But he knew he wouldn't be so lucky, she'd show eventually, and if she didn't, he didn't even want know what would happen then.

A period of ten, then twenty minutes went by. Rose was already finishing her second drink and chewing through her second guy, while Dick hadn't even taken a sip of his beer. He heard the door open and he looked up, a cold wash of fear running straight through his veins. She looked over at him and smiled, disturbingly, as if nothing were amiss. Like she couldn't even see that he was practically crawling out of his skin.

She went straight to the bar, happily flirting with the bartender who remembered her. He fixed her a glass of red wine and poured a few fingers of whisky. The whole time Dick glared at her, noticing her lip color was the same, her frame now covered in a form fitted black coat. He heard his phone vibrate, and quickly checked it.

Rose: Something tells me Tits has your whole funeral planned out on Pinterest.

He shook his head and replied: Seriously, she looks like she's dressed for the occasion too!

"What's so funny?" he heard, and looked up. There she was.

She set down her wine and pulled out her chair, placing the whisky in front of Dick.

"I thought you could use this," she said, pulling off her coat and sitting down.

"I think I'm good," Dick replied, pushing it away. "I remember the last time I accepted a drink from you."

She was still wearing black, this dress being a little different from the last, but cut just as low and shamefully short. Once again, she looked like some rich trophy wife burying the husband she killed.

"So you do blame me for that ?"

"You got me shit-faced and tried to make me marry you," Dick scowled, "how is that not your fault?"

Catalina smiled as if nothing were wrong. "I didn't come here to argue, Mi Amor, I—"

"DON'T, call me that ," Dick snapped angrily.

She glared at him, nearly speechless. "I've always called you that—"

"Well, I don't want you to," Dick growled. "I never did."

"Like I said," Catalina continued cautiously, "I didn't come here to argue, I came here to talk."

"You have five minutes and that's all you're getting from me."

She lifted her wine and fraughtly sipped it. "So I see you're still upset with me."

"You could call it that, yeah."

"I thought giving you time would help, I guess I was wrong." She peered down at the drink she'd bought him, still untouched. "You're really not gonna drink that?"

"No," Dick replied coldly, "I don't want anything from you."

She looked back at him, insulted. "I didn't know what I was doing then, okay? I was just as lost as you were."

"Really, because it felt like you were leading the way. Leading me right off a damn cliff."

"Because you let me," she asserted. "You did the moment you got out of my way."

His stare hardened, and for a moment, he almost saw red. "You bitch," he hissed. "You still want me to believe that it was my fault . You still want me to feel guilty for what you did."

"I did what needed to be done." She lifted her glass again. "I did what you couldn't."

"Because it was wrong. "

"Sometimes a little wrong can serve a great right." She smiled at him, like she didn't feel anything. "I know you have a hard time seeing that, it's why I did what I did. So you didn't have to."

"So what, you want me to thank you?" Dick asked bitterly. "That's what you want, isn't it? Because if I thank you, then I own it, right?"

"No," she replied with a chill, and placed her glass on the table. "I wanna know it was worth it."

"I've given you enough, I'm not giving you that too."

"You really believe that?" she asked, wounded. "You haven't given me nearly what I've given you."

Dick laughed patronizingly. "You're a liar. The only thing you have ever done is take, Catalina. And I don't know what else you want from me, but I have nothing left for you to take."

Her face softened, but he wasn't sure why. "I don't know what you mean… but heartbreak can bring out the ugliness in all of us."

He thought he was going to lose it.

"Heartbreak?" he questioned. "Fucking heartbreak!"

"Keep your voice down, people can hear yo—"

"No, Cat," he declared, leering at her, "you didn't break my heart, you ATE it. That way I could never get it back!"

She grimaced. "I don't understand where this is coming from, Mi Amor. I would never intentionally hurt you like tha—"

His hand fell on the table with a slamming percussion. "Then why did you fucking rape me, Cat?" Dick hissed, so that only Catalina could hear him.

Her brow creased as she leaned in. "What the hell…" She was speechless, a little taken back. "What are you even talking about? I would never do such a thing to you..."

"The rooftop, Cat! What, you don't remember? Was me telling you not to touch me just a minor inconvenient detail to you?"

"We went over this," she reasoned, hushed, "you were in shock, you didn't know what you were saying—"

"Then why the hell would you think it'd be a good idea to fuck me then?"

"There is no need to be vulgar. I—"

"Vulgar," Dick laughed. "I'm sorry my choice of words is making you uncomfortable—I mean you raped me, so I guess I owe you some sense of decency, right?"

"Stop saying that—it didn't happen like that."

"Yes, it did," he insisted. "You fucking raped me and you do it every time you sit there and act as if you're entitled to a part of me—to a part of my life . Or when you act like it's me—like I'm the one with the problem!"

"Because all I've ever done is love you and you've given me nothing!" she spat, her face beaming red.

"So you fucking took it, you bitch," he seethed, his voice poisonous.

"You never appreciated anything I did for you," she hissed. "I almost spent my entire life behind bars for you!"

"For what you did, in my name," Dick corrected. "How the fuck do you think that makes me feel?"

"Loved," she replied with a warning, like it was some end all-be all. "I did it because I love you, because I saw how much you needed me, how much you needed me to do that for you . And you let me. Tell me that isn't love ."

He was honestly frightened. He could see that deep in her eyes she believed what she was saying. That she thought by killing Blockbuster, it would make him love her, but it didn't. It only pushed him away, and she couldn't let go of that.

"You need help."

"I need you," she countered. "I love you more than anything, and I can't live without you ."

"Is that supposed to scare me?" Dick asked. "Because I'm not falling for it, not this time."

"So what? Blockbuster's death is a stain on your conscience, but my life, what—not so much?"

Dick looked away from her, he knew she would probably play this card. The truth was, he would care if she did something to hurt herself, especially to spite him—it terrified him, in fact. But if he played into it, she'd win, and he'd never be free of her.

"No, of course I'd care, but if you really loved me, you wouldn't leave me with that guilt. That would destroy me, and you know that. How is that love?"

He could see her blood practically boiling. He had her cornered logically, she wasn't getting out of this one.

Lucky for her, she didn't have to. The bartender approached them, standing behind Cat and looking at Dick as if he were the bad guy.

"If there's a problem here, I'm gonna have to ask you to leave," he said, obviously addressing Dick.

He looked over to the man, he was just doing what he thought was right, rescuing the damsel. Dick would have done the same if he didn't know any better. But still, it made him sick that everyone would assume she was the victim—that she actually thought and acted like the victim.

Dick pushed out his chair when Catalina turned and raised her hand.

"There's no problem here," she said calmly, "this is just a simple misunderstanding ."

She looked over at Dick, she wanted him to agree. Only he wasn't interested in doing what she wanted—not anymore.

"It's okay," he said, letting his eyes drift down to Catalina, "I was getting ready to leave, anyway."

The Bartender looked over at Dick as though he were one lucky son of a bitch, and smiled at the Catalina. "Well if you need anything, just let me know."

Yeah, wait till she bites your apple, hero, Dick thought a little bitterly as the man walked back over to the bar, his eyes still trained on Dick like a hawk.

Dick began to rise from the table, but the black widow protested. "We're not done here."

Dick looked back at her warningly. "I am."

She sneered from across the table and stood up as if to block his exit.

"Well I'm not."

Dick looked back at her, a little intimidated, not so much for the fact that she was standing in his way, but for the fact that if he even touched her he'd probably get his ass thrown in jail, and she knew that.

He peered over her shoulder to see Rose stand up, ready to kick "Tits" into next Tuesday if need be. Dick looked back at her, visually telling her to stand down. He couldn't allow her to take the fall for him—as much as she wanted to.

Catalina noticed his line of sight and looked behind her, a thick scowl casting over any beauty left on her face. She trained her sight back on Dick, the scowl taking on a mocking expression.

"What? Not man enough to face me without your little pet ? Nice, Dick."

Like she had any right to talk about pride or strength. She didn't know the first thing about being strong or brave. He needed to let her know that.

"You're the one who's jealous of a 17-year-old girl, but if you really must know, she replaced you, and she's ten times the hero you could ever dream of being, Catalina. You'll never be anything to anyone."

Out of anything he said, that seemed to hit her the hardest, but he wasn't sure why. Was it because he'd replaced her, or was it because he valued the replacement more than her? Or was it because he took away her validation as a hero?

She looked down bitterly, and made a fist. "Fine," she growled, "if that's how you feel, fine! But this isn't over…"

He didn't like the way she said that, but regardless, he let her continue.

"…Not by a long shot," she continued harshly. "So when you're done playing with little girls , I'll be waiting."

She leaned in as if she were going to kiss him, his lips hardened and cold, but she only smiled mockingly, hoping whatever stains she'd left on his soul would fester one last time. She placed her fist in his hand, her smirk deepening, feeling him writhe at the contact, but he still held his ground. He felt a small piece of paper fall into his palm and she closed his fist around it, holding her hands around his. He knew she was aware that he could do nothing, that's why she was doing it. He leered at her with a burning hatred, but that was all he could do. For now.

"Until then, Mi Amor."

He watched her walk out the door, the bartender still glaring at him. He wanted him out, and Dick was happy to oblige.

Rose finally moved from her corner, trying to mask the fact she was nervous for him, but covered it smugly.

"Ready to go?" she asked, and he nodded.

Within moments, the two were nearly out the door, but not before one last outburst.

"Wait," the frat boy who'd bought Rose a few drinks said, "you're going home with him? He didn't even buy you a drink!"

Rose looked back at the guy like he were wearing a helmet or something. "Yeah, last time I checked, buying a girl a few drinks was about as binding as a pinky swear. Stop acting like you bought me a lobster."

Dick shrugged at the guy, as did the bartender. Yeah, it sucked, but hey, home girl owed him nothing.

"Ready to go, Rose?"

"Like a prom dress."

And with a roll of the bartender's eye, they left.

They walked outside, the wind blowing a little harsher now. The sky above was clear, the stars managing to shine over the cityscape despite its dull radiance lifting into the air.

Dick admittedly felt a little freer, like some of the weight he'd been shouldering was alleviated, the space in his chest aching less. He'd said everything he needed to say to her, even if she wouldn't own up to any of it. He wasn't stupid, he knew she'd never acknowledge her wrongdoings, but it would have helped if she had. He may have even held some hope for her, but he knew now he should have never placed such a fragile thing in her hands to begin with.

"So was it worth it?" Rose finally asked, uncertainty bleeding from her eye.

Dick took a breath and nodded. "Yeah, I'm not fixed, but I'm better. And that's a good start."

Rose smiled weakly at him, she knew what it was like to feel that way. Just always short of whole.

"Yeah, it gets better with time."

Dick shuddered at the thought. Time was something that had become unbearable to him, to think it could actually help mend his wounds, seemed a little deceptive.

"I hope you're right." He walked over to her and placed his hand on her shoulder blade, guiding her down the street. "Thanks again. I don't know if I could have faced her without someone I trusted to back me up."

Rose smiled coyly. "You trust me?"

"Yeah," Dick said, and looked at her oddly. "I wouldn't have pushed for you to be a Titan if I didn't. What makes you think I don't?"

Her eyes fell on the ground. "Cause no one really does. Eddie did, but he's gone now. You just never really said it, so… I don't know—I guess I wouldn't have blamed you if you didn't…"

He stopped and turned to face her. "Trust is something that you shouldn't have to say out loud, Rose, it's just something you feel. I trust you because at the end of the day you wear your heart on your sleeve and you don't bullshit anyone. I know you think you're not a good person, but you are, and deep down, you just want people to see that. You're a hero because you want to be a better person, and when you help people, you do it because it's right, not because you're looking for a favor, or to be favored."

"That's because you haven't received my bill yet, Grayson. You've racked up quite the tab, too," she joked, trying to get the focus off of her. "I'm kidding, by the way."

"I know. Humor is how you deal with crazy shit, it's that or anger. I'm glad you're turning to the former."

"I learned that from you," she said softly. "I saw how much you were hurting, yet you still found a way to make light of everything. I thought I'd give it a try."

"I'm glad you did."

They reached her Harley and she turned to her mentor with a sentimental half-smile. "Well, it's been real, but like every great adventure, my time here has come to an end."

"Yeah, I'm really gonna miss you. I'm shocked you haven't made a sexual innuendo all night."

"Well, it didn't seem appropriate given the circumstances, but, I found out the age of consent is 16 in the state of New Jersey… So y'know, if you wanna make out with me before I ride off into the horizon, I'd be cool with that."

Dick smiled and shook his head. "I'm aware what the legal age of consent is, and no, no offense."

"You and your morality, Grayson," she said, picking up her helmet. "Maybe I'll have more luck with your brother."

"My brother?"

"You know, the guy with the red helmet, what's his name?"

"Oh… Jason," Dick said, less than enthused, "he comes with a lot of baggage."

"And you don't?"

"Touché."

"Well, I'm gonna head off now," Rose laughed. "No more psycho stalkers, okay?"

"I'll do my best," he said with a smile. "No more letting creepy guys buy you drinks."

"I let you buy me drinks."

He pulled her into a hug and kissed the top of her head. "Please take care of yourself, Rose."

She looked up at him and nodded. "I will, I promise… Deathwing."

"Okay, now get the hell out of my city and stop calling me that."

As he watched her go, he realized he finally understood. Understood why Catalina, a self-centered, ego-driven narcissist wanted to be a hero. It had nothing to do with helping humanity, or even making one life better. She had no need for that, it was all about power. Everything she did, every move she made was self-serving or a display of dominance. Killing Blockbuster, that was simply her playing God, forcing herself on Dick; that was taking what she wanted, but couldn't have, and she'd just reminded him of that. She couldn't leave him until she'd had the last word, till she'd sunk her fangs in him one last time to poison him. She just had to take away his power. Well, not anymore. If she wanted to act like an insect, he'd just have to crush her like one.

She waited, a glass of wine in her hand. She took as sip and looked down at her phone, recollecting the call she'd received. She was a bit shaken when she heard his voice, her heart teetering on its tipping point. He told her he was too rash, that he let his anger get the better of him, but he was ready to talk now. Ready to hear what she had to say. That he couldn't wait. She'd smiled at that, she knew he'd come around, he always did.

Without a second thought, she gave him her address and invited him over, telling him she would make it all better and left him with that.

She took another sip, her anticipation pumping through her veins, the heat of the wine mingling with her blood. She'd been waiting an hour, though it felt like a decade, but that hour was nothing compared to the lifetime she'd spent waiting for him.

A knock rapped at the door, and her heart skipped a beat. Her breath hitched and she placed her glass down on the table and went to the door, taking a moment to check her makeup and fix her dress. She composed herself, taking a moment to quell her near giddiness. She finally opened the door, doing her best to display her most convincing bedroom eyes and found him in their fabled stare.

"Mi Tesoro," she said, sickeningly sweet, "I knew you'd come."

He smiled at her subtly. "You gonna invite me in?"

"Oh, of course, Mi Amor," she said huskily, "you're always welcome."

She shifted out of his way and he stepped inside. He took a quick look around. Her apartment wasn't big, but none of them were in that neighborhood. He should know—it was his neighborhood, after all.

"So tell me, darling," she began, closing the door, the faint click of the lock following, "why the sudden change of heart?"

He looked over at her and shrugged nonchalantly. "You were right, I was just upset. I wasn't being fair to you… I'm sorry ."

She smiled, flashing a hint of victory. "I forgive you," she said, walking toward her prize. "Now why don't you let me heal you, Mi Amor." She placed her hands on his chest, a sinful look in her eye. "I promise, baby, I'm gonna take good care of you now."

He brought his hands to her face and smiled, cradling it as she closed her eyes, leaning in to seal her prey's fate. Only Dick had other plans.

His hand slid to the back of her neck and his face hardened to stone. His grip on her became cold and tight as he suddenly conjured an unnecessary amount of strength. Channeling every ounce of hatred, every violation, and every last bit of fear he held for her. He threw her, face first, into the high table beside them. She collided with the object with a violent force, the tempered glass surface cracking, and her wine glass shattering as it hit the the tile. She collapsed to the floor, blood pouring from her nose and into her mouth. She lifted her head, her body still in shock, as a rough hand tangled itself in her hair and pulled her motionless body around to face him.

He knelt down, hovering over her with an infuriated look in his eyes. She tried to look away from him, but he gripped her jaw and forced her to stare in his direction. She was going to hear this, whether she wanted to or not.

"If you so much as cast a shadow in my fucking direction, I will finish this job," he growled in a low voice. "As far as I'm concerned, you're dead to me, Catalina—and I never wanna see your fucking face again! Got it?!"

She whimpered a little and nodded, but refused to cry in front of him, as though she could keep some sense of dignity if she didn't.

"Bitch," he huffed in her face, a faint spray of saliva hitting her cheek with a hateful breath.

He released her heartlessly and got up, storming out of her apartment as quickly as he'd struck her. She heard the door slam shut, cutting the last tie left between them. She flinched at the sound, like it hurt, and began to cry. She was finally afraid of him; she didn't have any power left to play. She had lost him, for good this time.

Dick threw on his hood, stepping out onto the street and into the cool night air. The wind had subsided and for the first time in a year, he felt his stomach calm. He didn't feel the need to look over his shoulder anymore. The bleeding in his chest had finally quelled.

He couldn't change what had happened to him, and he couldn't change what happened in the wake of it all. But he could change who he became as a result of it all. He knew he wouldn't be cured overnight, but he knew, in time, he'd be fine again. He could move on now. He could finally breach the surface and breathe—he could live. And for that, he could find enough strength to embrace the tomorrows and move out of the yesterdays.

The air somehow smelled sweeter—cleaner, even. Like the smoke had lifted, and the fires burned out, no longer hindering his senses. He could see beyond the rubble to a path beyond the ruins. He took a deep breath, taking the cold air in like it was the first time he'd ever done so.

Clarity, he thought, feeling the ground beneath his feet again, the world indeed still there. He wasn't afraid anymore. He wasn't waiting for some unspeakable thing to pull him into its undertaking. No. For the first time in so long, he was free of her. Free from her hold and presence, and more importantly, free of her memory.

He couldn't taste her anymore.

#nightwing #nightwing comic #nightwing fanfiction #devin grayson #nightwing 93 #rape #male rape #rose wilson #rose wilson fanfiction #Teen Titans #Titans #batfam #catalina flores #dick grayson #dick grayson fanfiction #dick and catalina

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metanoeo-hos · 4 years

Text

LOCKDOWN - THE 2020 PANDEMIC

#4 The Surrogate

It was a stormy night with the rain pelting down in buckets. Paula sat at the window of the bedroom staring out as the lightning lacerated across the dark night whilst the thunder roared with superiority and ownership of the sky. Tears pouring down her cheeks, she wiped them away with a tissue wondering how on God's beautiful earth had she got herself into this mess.

"Why? Why me? Why them?"

Paula had been friends with Reese and Joey for as long as she could remember. Reese had even made Paula a bridesmaid for her wedding and that was saying alot considering the huge family Reese had.

As for Joey, for years he had tried hooking Paul up with either his male buddies or colleagues but it was all in vain. Reese and Joey like Paula's family and the rest of her friends and finally grown to accept that Paula, well Paula was just difficult to set up. Impossibly so!

When Paula turned 36 Reece and Joey took her out for a birthday lunch to make up for not being able to attend the party her other friends had thrown for her. Whilst seated at the table busy chatting away a couple walked by pushing a pram and that's what sparked the conversation. Looking back Paula wished she had kept her big mouth shut.

"I know it's very rude to ask this of a married couple but please I'm curious. You guys have been married like eight years now. Surely that's way past the legal reproduction mark?" She asked them with a huge smile on her face.

Reece spoke up first.

"Paula, please send the question up to heaven. Joey and I have tried EVERYTHING", tears bordering her eyelashes threatened to burst forward any second. Reece beat her to it and tears flowed down her cheeks,

"I'm so sorry, so sorry I didn't mean to pry... Oh Gosh! I feel so bad"

"No need to feel bad Paul's, Reece and I are ready to start start talking about it. We have kept it to ourselves far too long. Now 150k later we are done with trying and done with keeping it a secret"

"150k? For what?" Paula asked. It was Reece who responded.

"For all the doctors and specialists and their enthusiasm to help us fall pregnant via science and technology" she sighed. "It's been a long and painful ordeal, emotionally and mentally and we are DONE, no more!"

It pained Paula to listen to what her friends had to endure. Such a beautiful couple with such beautiful hearts, they did not deserve this. Not when everywhere babies were being born like clockwork majority cases with no effort at all. She could literally fill an entire library with books listing people who did not want babies but had, or were unfit parents or undeserving or let's not even talk about the number of abortions.

Hold the phone God, a murderer gets a baby but not this couple. Somebody up there in baby administration needs to be fired! That's when the idea hit her hard and quick, that she thought it could only be devine intervention. If she had known better then she would not have made such a hasty decision because when one tries to play God in people's life's the lesson is bound to be painful beyond words.

As Paula continued to stare out the window the weather seemed to be reprimanding her in every way possible, warning her of impending doom. She was five months pregnant with Reece and Joey's twins, a surrogate mother to the most deserving and beautiful couple. Her friends who she was willing to go so far to bring joy and laughter back into their homes. Or so she had thought, until now.

At first they had tried artificial insemination with Reece's eggs and Joey's sperm but that did not take. Eventually they tried with Joey's sperm only and much to the delight they were all pregnant and the celebration when the news broke was huge. With tears and laughter and jokes and hugs and kisses. By the time it was established that not one but two babies were on their way the three of them were beyond being surprised and too celebrated out to even make much of it.

You know the cliche all good things have to come to an end. Well that cliche crept in very deviously one night when Paula was three months pregnant and craving mint chip ice-cream in the middle of the night. To bond and be a complete part of this pregnancy Reece and Joey had insisted Paula move in with them just until birth. Doesn't matter how much she refused Reece came up with every reason under the sun why her moving in was the best idea.

She was sitting in the lounge with her legs up across the couch munching away at her mint chip when Joey walked in asking her why she was sitting in the dark. She replied that she liked it that way and pointed to shown him that she had drawn the curtains to look out into the beautiful night. Joey always worked well into the night so him being awake at night was never a surprise. Paula did not know whether it was the full moon shining into the lounge that had cast a spell on them or what had happened all she knew is that it had happened and there was no turning back.

They were just chatting and laughing when Paula felt this strong movement in her tummy, she placed her hand on her tummy and there it came again. Next minute Joey was sitting on the carpet next to the couch also trying to be a part of the excitement. However the twins seemed to be done with their first performance and Paula lay back with her head rested on a cushion against the armrest of the couch. At some point she must of drifted off because when she awoke she found Joey fast asleep, his head rested on his hand on her tummy still sitting on the carpet.

The moment was so magical and pure that without thinking she lifted her hand and ran his fingers through his hair which caused him to stir and next minute their eyes were locked and they entered into a galaxy of no return. At some point they should have stopped but they did not both their resistance mechanisms had been deactivated in a realm where even common sense did not exist.

The more Paula told herself what she or they had done was unforgivable and that she would never be able to truly live with herself ever again, the more she couldn't get past how perfect it had all been. So in the next coming weeks she convinced herself that it had all been a dream afterall perfection only existed in dreams and not when sleeping with your own friend's husband for crying out loud.

With tears streaming down her face that night she made her decision, enough was enough. The twins were innocent in all this and she would not allow herself or them to endure any further. No matter how much she tried to bury that night it was impossible the moment she and Joey were in the same space together. Tomorrow she would request an immediate transfer at work and if they refused she would then hand in her resignation.

She could not give up her babies and she could no longer bear being around her overly cheerful friend or her irresistible husband. This was the best and only decision, she has to leave to another province and get as far away from all of this as possible. If Reece tried to contact her she would just make it seem like she had become too attached to her babies, which was only half of it but that would be her story and she would stick to it. By the end of this week she would be thousand of miles away.

Three days later the news hit her like a huge blow and she had to run quickly to the bathroom to throw up. Everything was in place, her transfer and temporary accommodation approved. Her flight booked and she had planned to pack and leave while the jolly two were at work. She was just about to switch the television off before leaving for work when breaking news popped onto the screen.

Something about Coronavirus, China, Epidemic, Self-isolation and the government declaring a complete lockdown of the entire country as of the next day. Distraught, she sat on the bathroom floor trying to pull herself together. When had this all started and how had she missed it?

She needed to call into work and have her flight moved to this evening and she needed to start packing right NOW!

Paula mustered up all her energy and rushed to the kitchen to get her cellphone. Quickly she dialled her office and asked to be put through to HR. She gave them instructions regarding her flight, book business she told them I will pay the difference if I have to. Relieved that they had managed to secure her a flight she hung up and turned around to find Joey standing right in front of her...

TO BE CONTINUED...

Written by Chantelle Jerel

Lockdown in South Africa

11 April 2020

***Rough sketch, includes all errors***

#shortstory

#pandemic

#Coronavirus

#freelance

#thesurrogate

#fiction

#lockdown

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crystalrmurphy-blog · 5 years

Text

Inseparable by Siobhan Davis

Wow! I am obsessed over these Siobhan Davis novels! I love her style of writing and her incredible imagination. Since this story is written in parts, I will be splitting this review up into parts to correspond with the book. So here it goes....

Part 1 (Senior Year of High School)

It all started with the two boys that lived next door to Angelina by the name of Devin and Ayden. Having all known each other since they were toddlers, they grew up to be inseparable. What started off as three bestfriends going into senior year together, it took quite a turn in the opposite direction when everything started to change.

Angelina has been harboring feelings for Devin for years but has never acted on it. One night while Devin and Angelina are alone at her house, lines are crossed and in the heat of the moment they confess their feelings to one another. During their make out session, Angelina divulges that she is still a virgin and has been saving it for Devin. Not thinking he's good enough for her, he wants her to think on it first before giving it up to him and claims they'll talk about it the next day.

Weeks go by and Devin is still avoiding Angelina and his relationship with Ayden lately has been strained, and neither of them will tell Angelina why. Not too long later, Angelina catches Devin in the act with her arch nemesis from school, Becky. Heartbroken, she flees the party in tears and into the comforting arms of Ayden, who figures out what happened. Feeling betrayed and unable to forgive Devin for breaking her heart, she ends their friendship, cutting him off. Already having a strained relationship with him, Ayden also makes the decision to cut out Devin.

As time goes by, Angelina and Ayden grow even closer, if that's even possible. One night after getting back to Angelina's house, Ayden just plants a kiss on Angelina without warning. Wanting to get over Devin, Angelina agrees to go out with him but over the course of the next few months of being together, Ayden starts becoming distant and drinking more. Coming to the conclusion that Ayden and her would be better off as friends, she decides she'll break things off before they leave to college together. Only she doesn't get the chance as the day they are suppose to leave, Ayden reveals that he won't be going to college and instead joined the marines leaving that day.

So far, I am loving this book and can't wait to see what happens next. Bare with me guys because this is going to be a long review.

Part 2 (Freshman Year of College)

This is the second part to the story and boy are you in for a roller coaster.

After going with her plan to attend college although Ayden is not with her, Angelina is taking it day by day. Agreeing to attend a frat party with her bestie, Angelina is in for a shock when Devin shows up as some guy is hitting on her. After getting through her first initial reaction of anger, she agrees to hear him out. Baring everything to Ange, Devin reveals that during their senior year, he discovered the guy who raised him wasn't his father and in fact, his uncle was his biological father. After meeting his uncle, he agrees to go to rehab to get help, with the financial help from his uncle/bio dad. Finally getting sober, Devin knows what he wants, and attends college where he was set to find his Ange. After hearing him out, Angelina is able to finally forgive him and they easily fall back into their friendship.

As the next couple months pass by, Angelina can't help but still have feelings for Devin. After trying to fight them for so long or at least until Ayden is back so she can tell him in person, one thing leads to another and they succumb to a night of steamy passion. That is not all though because when they wake up, Ayden is there and he is furious. Betrayed by his best friends, he storms out, wanting nothing to do with them. Hoping he will come to terms, they give him some space but not too long after he left, they get a phone call.

This is where tragedy has struck as we come to find out that Ayden has taken his own life after the events that happened that day. Falling into depression and blaming herself, Angeline blackmails her father into giving access to her trust fund and creating a new identity, leaving without a single goodbye.

Part 3 (Almost 5 Years Later)

After almost 5 years of searching, Devin still can't find out where Angelina went. Even being a cop himself and having connections, there is no trace of her. Finally while attending a buddies bachelor party with some strippers, Devin is shocked when he sees one of the strippers faces and its none other than his beloved Ange. Ange isn't the sweet, innocent girl he knew, now she's an emotionless drunk that likes to hook up with random guys to ease her pain. Seeing what a mess she has become, he sends her to rehab to get the help she needs.

Over the course of 90 days, she finally makes a turn around and her old self is restored. As part of her recovery, she needs to tell Devin a secret she has been keeping over the last 5 years. When she ran away, she found out she was pregnant and due to health complications, her baby boy was born still born and revealed that Devin was the father. As time goes on, they are finally able to heal together and forgive one another and move forward.

Fast forward a little while later and they receive the real reason as the why Ayden committed suicide, via a video message he left to them. As it turns out, Ayden was gay and in love with Devin. Feeling as if he could not tell anyone, and disgusted with him self, he ended his life. Grateful to finally get the closure they deserved, but saddened that Ayden felt that he couldn't tell any of them, they are finally able to move past his death.

At last this book is over, and what a journey it has been. This book had me on an emotional roller coaster as each chapter went by. It included a multitude of things such as a love triangle, tragedy, forgiveness, healing, and a whole lot more. I am so grateful to have stumbled upon this author and all of her novels. This book was another amazing read that had me laughing, crying, and healing along with the characters of the story.

I was not contacted to read and review this novel and willingly read it on my own.

5 Stars!!

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newagesispage · 5 years

Text

APRIL 2019

PAGE RIB

***** The Rolling Stones have cancelled their North American tour. Mick Jagger apologized for cancelling due to undisclosed medical treatments. Oh Baby, Get Well Soon!!!!

***** Mick and his squeeze, Melanie Hamrick have put together a ballet set to Stones music called Porte Rouge. After premiering in Russia it will come to NY on April 18 for an opening night charity event to benefit Youth America Grand Prix. Tickets start at $600.

***** Tina Fey and Carol Burnett are working on a movie about Carol’s book, Carrie and me: A Mother –Daughter love story.

***** When I hear Bernie Sanders going on, I can’t help but think of Jimmy Carter. He was pushing many of these messages in the seventies. He tried to get us to have more respect for the land and to save energy and the greedy wrote him off as boring and the era of greed took over. Will we listen this time?

***** The Mueller report was finally turned over to Attorney General William Barr. This has started a whole new set of problems. Barr gives us a summary that is like springtime for Trump. He jumps right in to those that done him wrong and FISA warrants. Should congress get a look at the full report? Everyone is talking over each other and don’t seem to hear what the other is saying. Everybody piles on Adam Schiff because they think he isn’t accepting the report like a good Dem should. If they would listen, he makes it very clear that he respects the findings but they need to see the report. How dare they ask HIM to resign as Intel committee chair. It was heartwarming to see his backbone. They must quit backing down. We still don’t have the whole story but he still free to say that he thinks the actions we already know of were wrong. What the hell is wrong with that? Barr is supposed to release the heavily redacted report in mid- April. No collusion? Perhaps, Scary Clown 45 would probably not get his hands dirty. Obstruction? We’ll see. ** Tyler Mcgaughey, William Barrs son in law will now advise Trump and the White House staff. ** I am really sick of listening to the old white man POV.

***** Dow chemical has donated a mil to Trump’s campaign. Strange that Trump has blocked a report that took years of research and shows proof of Dow toxic pesticides which jeopardizes over 1,200 endangered species.

***** US from Jordan Peele opened to 70.3 mil. Just like his last movie, critics tell us to watch it twice. How great for the bottom line.

***** John McCarty, a dead man is running for village President in Spring Bay, Il.

***** Look out for the new film, The Kid, directed by Vincent D’onofrio. The western stars Ethan Hawke, Chris Pratt, Hawk , D’onofrio , MorningStar Angeline and Leila George.

***** Did you ever see the reunion movie ‘Return to Green Acres? ‘ They tried to warn us of who Trump was a long time ago. How strange that it came full circle with that ridic Emmy Green Acres thing he did.

***** Shaq has become a deputy sheriff and has also been added to the board of directors of Papa John’s where he is an investor.

***** In sexual harassment news, Lucy Flores, a former Nevada assemblywoman has accused Joe Biden of unwanted touching and kissing at a 2014 campaign event.

***** Mark Hamill will voice the Chucky doll in the new Child’s Play.

***** Law and Order will get its 21st season.

***** The daytime Emmy noms have been announced and Days got the most this year. WOO HOO! The soap was nominated for drama, writing, costume, music, casting, art direction and oh, just everything. In the acting category the lead noms are Marci Miller, Tyler Christopher and Billy Flynn. Kate Mansi was noticed for a guest spot as Abigail so 2 actresses are up for Emmys in the same role. Other guest noms went to Thaao Penghlis and Philip Anthony Rodriguez. Kassie Depaiva, Linsey Godfrey (really?), Martha Madison, Greg Rikaart and Eric Martsolf were all nominated. Younger actor nods went to Olivia Rose Keegan, Lucas Adams, Victoria Konefal and Kyler Pettis. C’mon , why nothing for Lauren Koslow, Greg Vaughan, Casey Moss, Susan Seaforth Hayes and Robert Scott Wilson?? I think I would switch a few of these around but it is still great to see Days so blessed. I was also happy to see Max Gail from GH get noticed. CBS led the networks in noms. Hooray for Wayne Brady for game show host and Mark Hamill, Ruth Negga and Steve Buscemi in animated programs. Watch for the Daytime Emmys on May 5 which will not be on television again.

***** General Robert Neller has told the Pentagon that funds diverted to the wall are keeping Marines from rebuilding hurricane hit bases.

***** Devin Nunes is suing Twitter for the parody accounts, Devin Nunes Mom and Dvin Nunes cow which is pretty funny.

***** The EU is banning straw, cotton swabs and plastic cutlery by 2021.

***** Jenny McCarthy has a book out that slams The View.

***** Roseanne is thinking about suing ABC and has said some rather nasty stuff about Sara Gilbert.

***** Michael Avenatti was arrested for trying to extort $20 mil from Nike in NY. He claims he was just doing some lawyering. California has him on bank fraud charges. Why is there so much shadiness in this world? Let’s start rewarding the people doing good in this world and quit talking these headlines everyday.

***** Why did this Jussie Smollett thing go away?

***** Wal Mart is walking back this getting rid of the elderly and handicapped greeter thing.

***** Tracy Morgan and Will Forte are to star in the new animated Scooby Doo movie.

***** Johnny Depp has sued ex Amber Heard over the abuse allegations.

***** Martha Stewart is diving into the Marijuana product industry.

***** New York charges Manafort with 16 crimes. Perhaps he won’t get off as lightly with the state crimes.

***** Season 9 of American Horror Story has no premiere date yet. Emma Roberts is confirmed to return. It looks like it will also include Sarah Paulson, Evan Peters and silver medalist Gus Kenworthy.

***** New California Gov. Gavin Newsom has halted executions for now.

***** Dems will hold their convention in Milwaukee. And if I hear again that Hillary didn’t go to these sorts of places, I am gonna puke. She went! She went! Just not so much at the end.

***** Howard Stern will release his first book in 20 years this May.

***** Ok, so glad to see Whoopie Goldberg is starting to get back to work but it is just so unbelievable in this day and age and access to info that she seemed shocked that the insurance companies decide people’s fate. Of course, that is if you are lucky enough to have insurance.

***** Sandy Hook families can take lawsuits against the gun companies to court now.** Three suicides have recently come from survivors and a parent of Parkland and Sandy Hook. The pain goes on.

***** The Senate voted 59-41 to terminate the emergency declaration. VETO

***** Rick Singer, founder if a college prep business had pled guilty to money laundering, obstruction of justice and racketeering. The nationwide college entrance exam scandal involves about 50 people including Felicity Huffman and Lori Loughlin that dates back to 2011. People paid millions to use ringers to take or fix their children’s exams and sometimes faked photos with coaches to include them in sports they were never involved in. The U.S. attorney does not believe the schools themselves were involved. **Lawsuits have already begun from those claiming they could not get into a good college because those spots were taken by these alleged cheaters.

***** Jennifer Hudson will play Aretha Franklin in the biopic.

***** Experts say a recession is on the horizon.

***** Two Sacramento police officers will face no charges for their overkill of the unarmed Stephon Clark. Oh Big surprise!!

***** White supremacist groups on line are growing faster than ISIS. ** I never get it, if white supremacists are so supreme, so wonderful, wouldn’t they rise to the top naturally? Why do they need to rid the world of others or keep minorities down?? If they think others are so inferior, those they hate or fear should not be a problem .

***** Jeanine Pirro was pulled off Fox news after a racist rant about Muslims. ** And where is Rudy? The lawyer hasn’t been seen on the air since January. ** Is this true? Did Ivanka and Jared really try to resign? Did Scary Clown 45 try to push them into it and then not accept those resignations?

***** This can’t be true. Only 5 states have laws requiring patient consent for medical students to do vaginal exams on women under sedation.

***** I rarely think about Jay Leno but he was right about the late night comics all doing different versions of the same joke. But, who is he to talk? I mean how many different things did you do on OJ and Clinton?? At least these guys are funny.

***** The talk that people stay in their bubble becomes crystal clear when you see the poll asking if the President is truthful: Fox viewers : 84%, MSNBC viewers : 21% and CNN viewers: 1%. Whoa!

***** Word is that Scary Clown ordered economic advisor Gary Cohn to pressure the Justice Department to file a lawsuit to block the Att-Time Warner merger to retaliate against CNN.

***** At least 250 power plants across the country are leaking toxic chemicals into nearby water.

***** Jay Inslee is running for president! I think Stacey Abrams and Jay Inslee would be a nice ticket>

***** Beta O’Rourke is running for President! The psychedelic warlord!

***** Kristen Gillibrand is running for President!

***** Conor McGregor was arrested and charged with felony strong armed robbery and criminal mischief in Miami.

***** The process is in the works to get Trumps tax returns.** The house Judiciary committee has requested 81 documents.** This can’t be true. Trump was signing Bibles for volunteers and survivors in Alabama??

***** Just when it can’t get any weirder: Li Yang and her hubby, Zubin Gong run a string of massage parlors with questionable reputations. Until recently they ran the one that Robert Kraft was busted in. They also had a web site that seemed to sell access to their buddy, Donald Trump with Chinese business contacts. As soon as the story broke, the sites for an international consulting firm, text only in Chinese and no prices for the meets came down. Li Yang and her associates are in pictures at the inauguration, the White House, Mar A Lago and Trump’s super bowl party with the Pres, his sons and other Trump family members. We should have seen this coming. The old adage that always holds true with this administration seems true here. They always blame others for what they are really guilty of, this explains the Pizzagate garbage. This could be bigger than we ever dreamed. Even stories that we may have thought a bit out there need to be looked at closer. Can we connect the sex trafficking, the White House, the money? It is time to quit fucking around with the sellers and customers of those exploited in the sex trade. I don’t get it, all these men from Trump to R Kelly have the power over the women they supposedly use and abuse and yet they are always so angry. Perhaps they wouldn’t be losing their power if you treated others with respect and dignity. They always want all the power for themselves. And c’mon media, stop talking your heads off about the Omar story and give this Li Yang story a closer look.

***** The story of the fall of Theranos and Elizabeth Holmes is a sad one. It does show that greed and massive fraud are not just for the men of this world. When I first heard of her plans for the blood testing, I was so impressed with what she was accomplishing at her age. Yes, she was another poor little rich girl whose family fortune was quite diminished by the time it got to her. Even without the Fleischman yeast money, she did seem to have advantages. I can see how some of us were fooled but what about the big investors, the stalwart statesmen? Do they not remember that if it seems too good to be true, it probably is? How can all the hype, the press, the marketing snowball before there is any proof that something is what is actually supposed to be?? I always assumed that by the time I am hearing about it, things are about ready to go. Seeing all these stories like Trump and Deutsche bank, light sentences for Manafort and now Holmes and her partner in crime seeming to get off lightly, there is not much hope for the little guy. WHY can’t we hold those involved in big money crimes really responsible??

***** It’s true, rich people cause socialism – Neal Brennan.

***** Even in 1692 the rich were different. –Stacy Schiff- The Witches.

***** FEMA released the personal data of 2.3 million victims.

***** They have dug up old words from Fox’s Tucker Carlson. Big surprise that he seemed to empathize with Warren Jeffs, thought women should just shut up and called a woman “cunty.” The women who lap up the words of these men must not think much of themselves.

***** Why are we letting the banks finance detention centers and prisoners? It’s more than immigration or punishing criminals. Why is this big business?? I can’t believe this is still going on. Wake up!!! When will the children be free? C’mon House and Senate, Pass the Shut Down child prison camps bill.

***** Somebody has to pay for this President’s folly: The scary clown new budget cuts:$ 1.5 trillion from Medicaid/ $845 billion from Medicare/ &25 billion from Social Security.

***** About 1 rural hospital a month is shutting down due to lack of support and lack of funds.

***** Globalization seems to be spreading a pathogen killing the olive trees in Italy.

***** A fake Melania?? WTF? UGH!

***** Matthew Whitaker is out! Bill Shine is out!

***** When will we ever be able to buy the boxed set of Late Night with Dave?? Hurry so the next generation can see the genius they may have missed.

***** Pete Davidson and Kate Beckinsale??

***** Hey Bill Maher, way to go with your PETA message about the terrible treatment of the geese used to make Canada Goose down jackets. I will stay away!!

***** J Lo and A Rod are engaged.

***** Bette Midler and Judith Light will join the cast of The Politician.

***** Jussie Smollett has been indicted on 16 felony counts.

***** HBO’s Crashing was cancelled. Pete Holmes was great in this but I never really saw much promotion for it. I hate it when good stuff falls thru the cracks.

***** Kathy Griffin has a new film about the ridiculous Trump head, nearly career ending, Government harassment crap in her life. Kathy Griffin: A Hell of a story. Make that lemonade!! A girl has to take care of herself. It premiered at SXSW.** Speaking of SXSW, Alexandria Ocasio Cortez drew great crowds while she was there.

***** R Kelly lives in Trump tower in Chicago. Well, of course he does. Why is it ok for the rest of us to put up with these arrogant, abusive males in this society? Everyone is giving kudos to Gayle King for her calm demeanor in her interview. Yes, how professional of her but why should she be subject to that disrespect?? She is in her workplace. Would R Kelly have liked his Mother or daughter to be treated that way?

***** So, word is that Isaiah 45 is a Trump thing with the evangelicals. This scripture refers to Cyrus , the anointed one. OY!

***** Days alert: Robin Strasser is coming OH BOY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!** Judith Chapman and her old style soap acting just too much. ** C’mon Chloe and Rex!!** More Nurse Shelly!! ** Is Johnny Dimera on his way to town? ** I was so glad to see Tony, one of the best characters ever anywhere, even if it was part of an out of body experience.

***** Why do we have to keep talking about George and Kelly Ann Conway?? Are they just covering their bases? With one on each side of the Trump argument, they win no matter what happens right?

***** So now we know that about 400 Catholic clergy have been accused of sexual misconduct in Illinois. It never ends.

***** End the electoral college!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

***** S

***** Fox has hired Donna Brazile. People seem to finally be taking Bill Maher’s advice and telling their point of view to the other side. How else will sanity prevail if we don’t find common ground? We cannot look to this administration for guidance in this world, we have to figure these things out for ourselves, which we should be able to do anyway.

***** Suicide is the second leading cause of death for 15-24 year olds. We have to find our self- worth.

R.I.P. Andy Anderson, Katherine Helmond, Nathaniel Taylor, Luke Perry, Alabama tornado victims, Jan Michael Vincent, the Ethiopian airlines disaster victims, Hal Blaine, victims of the New Zealand Mosque shootings, Sydney Aiello, the Ogossogou village attack victims, Denise DuBarry, Larry Cohen, Jeremy Richman, Ray Sawyer, Tania Mallet and Nipsey Hussle.

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