.

Fandom: Sk8 the Infinity

Characters: Kyan Reki, Shindo Ainosuke, Kikuchi Tadashi, Kyan Koyomi, Kyan Chihiro, Kyan Nanaka, Shindo Ainosuke’s aunts

Warnings: Minor character death (Kyan Masae), funeral, car accident, drunk driving, adoption, family drama (Adam’s aunts are involved, of course there is)

Word Count: 2k

Summary: When Reki’s mother dies in an accident, he and his sisters are adopted by the Shindo family in order to give them a reputation for supporting humanitarian/charitable causes. However, since Ainosuke’s aunts cannot stand the children, they are relegated to the servants’ quarters, where Tadashi is assigned to help take care of them when he’s not attending to Ainosuke. While he struggles to take care of his siblings, Reki finds himself growing closer to the quiet, enigmatic man who serves the popular politician.

Chapter 1: In which the Kyans bid farewell to their mother and start a new life with the Shindos. [Written for TadaRekiWeek2021 | Day 1: Family]

Reki felt numb. It had already been a week, but he still couldn't believe that this was real. Koyomi clung to him, sobbing, while Nanaka and Chihiro wailed in the arms of two women he'd only just met. They handled the twins awkwardly, as if they'd never held children before, and their efforts to soothe them were largely fruitless.

"Mom! Mom!" Koyomi cried desperately, her tears soaking into the front of Reki's new suit. The tie was also too tight, but he couldn't find the strength to reach up and loosen it as he stared at the memorial photo of his mother. She was smiling at them, oblivious to their misery, and looking far more at peace than she did in the casket, her body mangled almost beyond recognition.

A drunk driver. A freak accident. They'd been orphaned by nothing less than sheer bad luck, and Reki had no idea what was going to happen to them now.

And he glanced sideways at a somber, older man whose head was bowed as they faced the altar. Shindo Ainosuke. He hadn't known anything about the man until he came into their lives, swooping in like some sort of hero to adopt the unfortunate children who were just as equally victims of the drunk driver. After they'd met a few days ago, though, Reiki had looked their savior up online, discovering that he was a member of the National Diet, elected to represent Okinawa. Even though Shindo was young, his political career seemed promising, having been active in writing and pushing through several bills on environmental issues. He was popular and handsome, and he seemed to be generally taken seriously even with a mostly female fan club that quickly caused tickets for any of his fundraising events to be sold out quickly.

Though Reki could understand why. He'd watched a couple interviews that had been uploaded online, and his new father--who wasn't even a decade older than him--seemed to be naturally charming as he demonstrated a breadth of knowledge and a sense of humor while explaining policies in a way that even he could understand. And more than that, Shindo's words could stir up his indignation or appease it. He was incredibly persuasive, but in a way that at least appeared to be entirely genuine.

What he couldn't understand, though, was why the man had decided to adopt all of them.

Shindo had been strangely tight-lipped on the matter, asking for the public to respect their privacy and grief, which was considerate of him, but the web was on fire with rumors. Of course, some of them were patently ridiculous, such as the one that had said the man had been having an affair with Reki’s mother, and others that claimed the twins were actually his children, even though they looked nothing alike and were clearly Reki and Koyomi’s siblings. But then there were others, the ones that said he was doing it for political clout, so that he could trot out the orphans and profit off their tragedy. Those ones seemed much more likely, even though the man had invested plenty of resources in keeping the media away: putting them up in a hotel when the paparazzi began to stake out their house, renting a private car service to drive them around, and and generally catering to their every need. In the appearances on TV that Reki had seen, Shindo always declined to discuss the siblings, deflecting the conversation to other topics and appearing appropriately somber.

But that wasn’t to say that he wasn’t deriving some sort of benefit from it. Even though Shindo didn’t discuss it, other programs did, some praising his generosity and humanitarian ideals while others took a more critical view of his decision to do so. So Reki didn’t know what to think. But he was sure that he’d figure it out eventually, since he was going to be living with the man.

When the funeral finally ended, Reki let Shindo lead them out to the car, a comforting hand laying on his shoulder. Koyomi’s cries had subsided to soft sobbing as she clung to her brother, and the man’s other hand rested on her head. He let them climb into the backseat first, with Koyomi half-falling over Reki, before taking a seat as well and accepting Nanaka and Chihiro from the women holding them. The twins had fallen asleep, exhausted from their wailing, and they stirred a little during the transfer, but the man gently rocked them until they were still again.

“Get the curtains, will you, Reki-kun?” he asked, his voice soft so as not to disturb any of the girls, and Reki nodded dully, reaching up to tug the curtain over his window while Shindo did the same on his side. And then Shindo leaned forward to speak to the driver.

“Bring us home, Tadashi.”

The other man nodded, and the car purred to life, pulling out of the temple and easing past the crowd of reporters outside until they reached the clear road. But Reki wasn’t looking at the passing scenery, just staring down at Koyomi sniffling in his lap as he patted her head mechanically. Home. It wouldn’t be the house that he’d grown up in for seventeen years, or the hotel that he’d lived in for the last few days. It would be somewhere new, somewhere he didn’t know, and he wasn’t sure how he was going to handle it.

Father. Dad. Papa. He glanced at the man sitting next to him with the twins settled on his lap. What did he call him? And as if he felt Reki’s glance, Shindo looked over at him, raising his eyebrows slightly.

“Can I do something for you?”

"Uh. No, it's fine," Reki mumbled, looking away again. He was sure that Shindo was still staring at him, but he didn't look back, staring at the dark curtain until the sound of the engine shutting off announced their arrival. But Shindo didn't move to open the door: instead, the driver--Tadashi--stepped out and opened it for his employer.

"Take one of the girls?" Shindo asked quietly, and Tadashi obeyed, bending over to gather Chihiro into his arms while Shindo got out with Nanaka. Reki had to wake up Koyomi so she could stumble out of the car ahead of him, and the two of them stared up at the enormous mansion that towered above them. This was where they were going to live from now on?

Another car pulled up beside them, disgorging another chauffeur who opened the door for three women. Two of them had been the ones who hadn't known how to handle the twins, and the third looked similar enough that they all had to be related: sisters, perhaps? Originally, Reki had thought they were other members of Shindo's staff, maybe part of his political entourage or something. But seeing them here, emitting a sense of confidence that bordered on arrogance, made his heart sink. There was something about them that he just didn't like, though he couldn't put his finger on it.

"Ainosuke. We've discussed this issue together, and we are in accord. You will keep the children in the servants' wing," one of the women declared. "They are simply too ill-mannered to be allowed in the main house as we had originally planned. We've never seen such awful behavior before in our lives. If they can learn to act like civilized people, then we can revisit this issue."

Reki's eyebrows snapped together at the insult to his family, and he took a step forward, only to be stopped by Shindo shifting his weight slightly to get in his way, a move that the man seemed to disguise by adjusting the girl in his arms.

"My dear aunts"--they were his aunts?--"please consider their circumstances. They are all still children, and they have all just lost the only parental figure that they know. If they are to become part of our family, then they must of course reside in the main house. We've already prepared rooms for them."

"Don't talk back to us, Ainosuke," the woman retorted. "We were against this from the beginning, but you insisted. We have already compromised this much for you, so you can do this for us. I'm sure that Kikuchi can find somewhere to get them settled. Handle it."

Then she turned on her heel, heading toward the entrance, and Shindo sighed, glancing over his shoulder at Reki with an apologetic expression.

"It's fine. I'd rather not live with her," Reki interjected before the man could say anything. "Just tell us where we're supposed to go."

Shindo seemed to hesitate, but then he nodded, glancing at Tadashi, who also nodded before starting to walk around the side of the house. There was an entrance there, and Tadashi shifted the girl in his arms to pull out a set of keys to unlock it and push the door open. Shindo let Reki and Koyomi follow the man inside before taking up the rear, and they walked in silence until Tadashi turned off the hallway into a room.

It was sparsely decorated, with a bed in the corner, a dresser with a mirror, and a wardrobe. Another door was slightly ajar, leading to what Reki assumed was a bathroom, and Tadashi carefully lay the girl in his arms onto the bare bed.

"This will be your bedroom, Reki-san. Please excuse our lack of preparedness; I will see to it that it is properly furnished and decorated by the end of the day. If there is anything else that you require, please inform me, and I will endeavor to fulfill your request, so long as it is reasonable. For larger requests, I may need to discuss it with Ainosuke first to receive his approval. Koyomi-san, you and your sisters will share the next room, and the same offer is extended to you. We have already hired additional staff to help take care of Nanaka-san and Chihiro-san so that the burden does not fall upon the two of you. Do you have any questions?"

Tadashi's formality, in addition to Shindo's aunt's statements, made Reki shake his head, feeling intimidated and out of place. But he caught Tadashi's glance at Shindo before Tadashi nodded slightly.

"Then I will go take care of that now. Please excuse me."

The man left, and Shindo stepped forward to lay Nanaka down next to Chihiro before crouching down to look at the other two.

"I'm sorry. This probably isn't the best first impression," the man apologized, grimacing slightly. "But I do want you to know that I really do want to be here for you. I'm too young to be a father to the two of you, so if you would like to treat me as an older brother, I'd like that. If you have any problems, if you need any help... just let me know, okay? Don't be shy, please. I am fairly busy with my work, but I'll always try to make time for you if you need it; for the times that I really can't, you can talk to Tadashi. Do you understand?"

"Yeah," Reki mumbled, a sentiment echoed by Koyomi, and Shindo smiled, a little sadly, as he reached out to place a hand on each of their shoulders.

"I truly am sorry for what you went through. I wish that this wasn't necessary. And I'm sure that you've already realized this, but... it's probably best if you stay away from my aunts."

Reki and Koyomi both nodded, and Shindo squeezed their shoulders reassuringly before he straightened up.

"Then I'll give you some time to settle in. If you need anything and you can't find me or Tadashi, just ask any of the other servants and they'll let us know."

Reki watched Shindo leave, passing by Tadashi as he came in with his arms full of linens. He still felt out of it, but he helped the man make the bed before they moved on to the girls' room to prepare that one as well.

The Miys, Ch. 57

I just realized this morning that I have been consistently updating chapters for just over a year now. The first 5 chapters of this story were just kind of helter-skelter when I first joined Tumblr in 2017.  I re-posted them from my main to this blog on September 11, 2018, before starting my weekly chapters with number 6 the following day. 

In that year, I have gathered 431 followers, several regular re-bloggers, some new friends, and two very good online friends who I adore (@charlylimph-blog and @baelpenrose, I’m looking at y’all).

Thank you, everyone, for being so supportive of this story and all the other stories I’ve posted on here.

With that said, here’s today’s chapter. I hope you all enjoy!

I woke up in the middle of the night with a groan. Groggy, I reached for my wrist to turn off my alarm, only to realize that it had never gone off. Why am I awake? my tired brain slogged to figure out. It wasn’t a noise, as far as I could tell – the room was too quiet for that, and Conor was still snoring beside me. Slowly, I started to realize that it was entirely too quiet.  I reached across the snoring lump beside me, and found what I had expected: cold sheets.  Maverick had gotten up in the middle of the night.

Gently, I got up and padded out into the public space of our quarters. Sure enough, a tousled head of black hair was poking over the back of the arm chair.  I could hear a low murmur and realized he was talking to someone.  Maverick wasn’t the kind to keep secrets, so instead of indulging my vast capacity to be nosy, I cleared my throat to let him know I was there.

A hand popped up and waved me over. “I couldn’t sleep, so I was talking to Dad.” Nothing in me was surprised by the fact that he was having a conversation with a man who died over thirty Terran years ago.  It probably didn’t hurt that it was a pretty frequent occurrence.

Sure enough, as I came around the chair to sit with him, Maverick was holding a photo of his dad in one hand, the other held out in invitation to curl up on his lap. “Good morning, Mr. Okima,” I yawned at the photo before kissing Maverick’s cheek. “You can’t sleep either?”

“You know Dad doesn’t sleep.”

“I meant you, silly.”

“Oh.” He squeezed me before setting down the photo. “Nah, I’ve been having nightmares lately.  Not the normal kind, with you and Conor getting tired of me and leaving me. These are more the horror movie kind. Voices whispering, I can’t find whoever it is, I don’t know if they want to hurt me or need help, that kind of thing.”

My chest ached at how casually he mentioned his ‘normal’ nightmares, but I bit back my automatic argument. The three of us had talked about it in depth, not long after we agreed to make things official, and we all had our baggage that we were working through.  Instead, I cleared my throat and tried to focus on the more immediate issue. “Have you ever had nightmares like that before?”

He tilted his head briefly before resting his cheek on my hair. “Sometimes. Usually after someone I was close with died.”

“Is talking with your dad helping?” No one had died on the ship, to my knowledge, so I was clueless where the bad dreams were coming from.

“Usually does.  I started writing him letters about a year after he was gone, but my aunt kept finding them. I didn’t really understand death when I was six, so I thought I could send the letters to Japan and he would come find me. It made her angry, so she…”

I knew this part of the story. She made him watch her burn them. It was horrible. “So you started talking to him instead,” I prompted.

“Yeah.” I could feel his smile against my head. “When I got older and understood better, it just made sense, you know? The words go out into the universe, and they’re everywhere, so that meant they could find him wherever he was.”

I nodded in agreement. “I did the same thing after I lost Jo, talking to her. It made me feel better, and I was twenty,” I poked his side for emphasis.

“I know.”

“Think you can sleep now?” I asked, looking up at him.

“Maybe.” He held me tighter instead of moving to stand.  “What about you?”

“I woke up because you weren’t there,” I admitted.

A small smile crept on his face. “But I snore the worst of the three of us,” he pointed out.

“And I need that snore to sleep.  Come on, we’ll put you in the middle this time.  I think nightmares mean you need it more right now.” I stood and gently tugged him to his feet, wrapping my arms around his waist.  I had never been a short woman, so I loved how small I felt with both of them and took a moment to bask in the feeling. After a moment, we made our way back to the bedroom.

As soon as we were at the foot of the bed, Conor made it clear that he was also awake.  Unceremoniously, he lifted the blankets in a clear command to come back to bed. Giggling, I crawled in after Maverick and leaned over to drop a kiss on Conor’s forehead.  He wrapped around our pilot like an octopus before nuzzling into the bend of his neck.  “Stupid gits, awake at all hours of the night. How’s a man supposed to sleep in an empty bed?”

Maverick rolled his eyes to me before scooping me in close so we could all grab a couple more hours of sleep.

 The next morning, I was feeling my midnight chat but fought it off to focus on the task at hand. True to my word, I stopped by Xiomara’s office before I even stopped at my own. Without looking up from my datapad, I started talking as soon as the door opened. “Xio, I wanted to make sure you heard about what happened in BioLab 2 yesterday – “

“Good Morning, Councillor Reid,” a calm voice interrupted.

My head snapped up.  Looked like Tyche and I were wrong about Grey forgetting to tell Xiomara, although not by much if their postures were anything to go by. “Oh, good morning, Grey!” I blinked, eyes wide. “I honestly thought you would still be asleep, given how late Maverick got home last night.”

Rubbing their face, they sighed. “I sincerely wish I was still asleep rather than still awake,” they admitted. Only then did I notice the dark circles around their eyes. “I have promised myself that I will sleep after I meet with Councillor Kalloe, so please do not let yourself worry.”

I scowled at my friend, as I was working up a full head of steam to nag her into a nap. “Well, it looks like we had the same idea, at least as far as making sure Xiomara is in the loop.”

The woman in question rubbed her eyes with one hand, groaning. “This sounds like a nightmare already, if both of you have come charging in here so early.  So, let’s hear it.”  I gestured silently for Grey to speak, knowing that they had far more information on everything than I did. As I patiently waited for them to give the brief version and send all the data already collected over, I was treated to a rollercoaster of expression from the head of Health and Safety.

Finally, Grey was finished.  As soon as they made their excuses and left, the anticipated explosion erupted forth. “I cannot believe this!” she shouted. “Grey, I understand – they were trying to get on top of it as quickly as possible, especially with the scrutiny their department would be under. And you!” she pointed her finger at me sharply. “You had no reason to know any sooner than you did, and that idiot is working both of your partners to the bone. You are excused from my wrath,” she spat. I struggled to keep a smile off my face; Xio may get impressively furious, but she always made sure to target her weaponized anger at the right target. “But Giang flipping Huynh could have told me this yesterday!” Her voice had dropped to something eerily between a hiss and a growl. “We have no idea how many people on this ship are at risk or could have been hurt. I have to get down there, check out the lab, check the logs…”

“Xiomara,” I interrupted, grabbing her forearms gently and wiggling them. “Xio. I completely agree that you should have been informed much sooner.  But going down there right now will not help, especially when Grey already gave you all the data gathered by the research lab yesterday.”

“It helps me think – “

“You would have to be thinking clearly first, and you know it,” I told her firmly, pointing to her seat.  With the closest thing to a pout I had ever seen on her face, she sat down.  Her generally dangerous-looking grace gave it a very feline air of I’m sitting because I want to, not because you told me. “Now. Coffee.  I know you’re furious, and I don’t blame you.  Being there yesterday was enough to set Conor into a fit of anger bad enough that he scared a couple people.  And your temper is much worse than his.” I grabbed the two cups of coffee I had dialed up – one iced, light, and sweet, the other hot and as black as I could manage to get it – and set her customary jet fuel in front of her. “Coffee first, then look over the data. Once you know what to expect, then go down there and see it for yourself.”

“I take it Huynh is nowhere near the lab.”

“Nope. And I am being very careful not to know where he is so that I can’t tell you that, either.”

“Mmm hmm,” she hummed as she sipped her coffee. “And it has nothing to do with the fact that he is coming down hard on your men?”

“Not a thing,” I lied smoothly. “I will admit to being a bit miffed that Alistair’s swimming lessons are being postponed until future notice, though.”

She arched a brow. “No swimming at all?”

“Just until you look over the results Grey gave you regarding the water, so you can approve re-opening the general area and only cordon off the diving platforms. Hence asking you to review the data before you go storming empty trenches.”

I was awarded with a regal nod. “Hide my quarry and keep the information hostage until I perform a heroic task. Wise decision.”

“I try,” I smirked. At least she was in a good mood again. Feel more confident with the odds of her looking at Grey’s report first, I stood to leave. “Time to check in with my mermaid-resistant admin and see what’s on the agenda for today.”

“Has Conor considered sparring?”

“He considered it just long enough to summarily reject it.  I’m thinking running, or dance.” I glanced at her slyly. “Or maybe capoeira?” It was an open secret that Xiomara taught classes in her scant spare time.

She laughed and waved me out of her office. “Just make sure that Grey doesn’t come back on shift today, okay?”

I groaned. “That’s going to be nearly impossible, but I’ll try.  And we may need to consider re-visiting shipwide treatments for anxiety and sleep disorders.  Last night, Antoine mentioned that the reactions to the recent adjustment in gravity are exceeding what we anticipated.”

“And I need Grey for that,” she sighed. “The same person who needs to sleep.” She ran a hand through her hair, toying with the end of one dreadlock while she thought. “Miys.  If Grey Hodenson tries to go back to work, can you alert me immediately?  I want to discuss this with them, and it may be best if I bring up the topic when they are most aware of symptoms.”

“Clever girl,” I murmured, grinning. “That’s something I would do.”

She tossed me a wink. “You aren’t the only one picking up tricks.”

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J/H 4-04: Hyde Goes Cruisin’

Okay, time for a page-one rewrite!

Some of you could probably guess that this episode would be on the list for a rewrite project like this. And I actually think it's been changed enough that the original title doesn't fit anymore. So, instead of "Hyde Gets the Girl," you have "Hyde Goes Cruisin'." We assume that 4-03, "Pinciotti vs. Forman," remains the same.

A few scenes here adapt material, not only from scenes cut from other rewritten scripts, but also the characters from the old That '70s Show website. My understanding is that those were treated as semi-official, so I figured they were fair game.

FF.Net AO3

---

SHOW TITLE   INT. FORMAN BASEMENT - DAY   A slow afternoon. HYDE sits in his chair, ERIC sits on one end of the couch, and FEZ on the other. The boys are watching HOLLYWOOD SQUARES, though only Fez seems invested.   FEZ: Elke Sommer to block. Elke Sommer to block. (it doesn’t work) Oh, you stupid son of a bitch!   ERIC: (sighs) Donna loved Hollywood Squares.   HYDE: Ah, Forman. Come on, man. Give it a rest, huh? So you’re single now. That’s a good thing! Now you’re like me, man. You’re free to be with lots of subpar, somewhat sleazy chicks. It’s Christmas, baby!   FEZ: Oh, you disguise your heart, Hyde, but I know you need love.   HYDE: Why’s that?   FEZ: (beat) ‘Cause I need it.   ERIC: (to Hyde) No, he’s right, man. I mean, Donna and I might have broken up, but you liked Jackie and you never even had her. You’re telling me that doesn’t hurt?   HYDE: Come on, Forman. You didn’t think that was serious, did you? I was just settin’ up for the biggest burn ever on Kelso.   ERIC: You got them back together.   HYDE: (shrugs) Know when to fold ‘em, man. (stands) Now, hey – this Friday night, you’re coming out cruisin’ for chicks with me in the El Camino. Of course, if we meet anyone hot, I’m taking her, but I’m sure we can find you a girl just this side of gross.   He claps Eric on the shoulder and exits through the basement door.   ERIC: (to Fez) No. I don’t care what he says. That unholy little demon crush Hyde had on Jackie, that was real, and it hurts him that she’s back with Kelso. And just once, I wish we could catch him with his guard down about it, so we could make fun of him. We’d be all, “hey, Hyde...”   He gestures wildly, looking for the right insult.   ERIC (cont’d): “You really liked a girl and you blew it! Yeah, burn! Welcome to Hell!” (beat) Oh, God, I’m in Hell!   He throws his head back and moans as Fez turns back to the TV.

MAIN CREDITS   BUMPER   INT. FORMAN KITCHEN - DAY   Early afternoon. Friday has come. KITTY sits at the kitchen table, going through one of many catalogues she has out. They all concern interior design.   RED enters from the living room, sees Kitty reading.   RED: What’s all this?   KITTY: Hmm? Oh, well, I’ve been taking so much work for the church home with me, I’m thinking of turning one of the empty rooms we have into a workspace.   RED: (beat) When you say “empty rooms,” are you counting my garage?   KITTY: No.   RED: Sounds great. I’ll find you a good, cheap contractor.   KITTY: Oh, no, no, no, no. This is something I want to handle myself.   RED: This is gonna be expensive, isn’t it?   KITTY: Maybe.   RED: Don’t you like anything cheap?   KITTY: I like you.   She smiles up at him. Red rolls his eyes and heads to the fridge for a beer.   Eric enters from the basement and heads for the patio door.   ERIC: Hey. Hyde and I are going tonight.   KITTY: Oh, good. I asked Jackie over for some decorating help, so it’ll be nice for Steven to have something to do on a Friday night without his girlfriend.   ERIC: Mom, we keep telling you, Jackie is not...   He recognizes the opening for a burn, and he takes it.   ERIC (cont’d): ... Ever going to pass up a chance to share her knowledge of interior design, and if that means giving up a date night – well then, that’s just a sacrifice Hyde will have to make.   Kitty chuckles and smiles at him. He grins back and heads out the patio door.   CUT TO:   EXT. HUB PARKING LOT – DAY   Most of the lot is taken up by a promotional booth and table for WFPP, and a white-and-green Volkswagen Samba. MAX stands by the table with a clipboard in hand. DONNA and her co-worker MELISSA man the booth, its speakers blaring out rock music.   KELSO and BOB circle admiringly around the Samba as a few other interested parties place hands on it.   KELSO: Oh, man! (to Bob) Oh, I hope I win this van! I really need a place to do it with Jackie.   He grins and turns back to the Samba, oblivious to Bob’s discomfort.   At the booth, Melissa nudges Donna with her elbow.   MELISSA: Check out that idiot’s ‘fro.   She points to Bob and chuckles.   DONNA: That’s my dad.   MELISSA: Oh! Uh...   DONNA: No... okay, yeah, you’re right.   They laugh as Max crosses over to the crowd around the van.   MAX: Okay, listen up, everybody. Welcome to the WFPP Hand 2 Van giveaway. The rules are simple: you place one hand on the van. If you remove your hand for any reason, you’re out. Last person to remove his hand wins the van.   Those interested, including Bob and Kelso, place a hand on the Samba.   MAX (cont’d): Any questions?   One DUPE raises his hand – the hand he had on the van.   MAX (cont’d): You’re out.   The dupe slinks away.   MAX (cont’d): Any other questions?   A disreputable-looking character with a bad moustache approaches – DANIEL.   DANIEL: Don’t start without me, Max.   MAX: Oh, God.   Slowly, confidently, Daniel makes his way around the van until he stands across from Kelso and Bob.   DANIEL: Hello. My name is Daniel, and I have won every WFPP contest since the Weber Gas Grill Trampoline Bounce of 1972. I am unbeatable. So, the choice is yours: joy or despair... pleasure or pain...   He slips a glove onto his right hand and holds it up.   DANIEL (cont’d): Life or death.   He slaps his hand down on the Samba.   DANIEL (cont’d): I am Daniel! And I cannot be beaten.   He is determined, Bob is unnerved, and Kelso is giddy and slightly impressed.   BUMPER   EXT. ROAD – EVENING   The El Camino is parked on the street in-between the Forman and Pinciotti homes. Hyde is at the wheel, Eric sits in the passenger’s seat, and Fez is wedged into the space in between.   HYDE: Alright, boys, let’s hit the road.   He starts up the car.   FEZ: Hyde, when we cruise a girl, how long do we have to talk to them before they will french us?   HYDE: That depends on what kind of girl you’re cruising for. Which is why I suggest you aim low. Real low.   ERIC: Well, I’m already at the bottom of a black pit of despair, so I think I’m about as low as I can get.   HYDE: (to Eric) Hey, none of that mopey crap, all right? (to Fez) And you, don’t come on all needy. You gotta be aloof.   FEZ: (beat) Did you just call me a loof? Because if so, I will have to kick you in your nads.   HYDE: No, man – aloof. Distant. Zen.   FEZ: (beat) Well, that’s not what “loof” means in my language.   HYDE: Look, I don’t care what you think it means, that’s what it means here. Now, come on – let’s ride.   He shifts out of park, Fez turns on the radio, and off they go.   CUT TO:   MONTAGE, moving from evening to night. Set to “We Gotta Get You A Woman” by Todd Rundgren. Beginning on a side shot of the El Camino pulling up to a light. Hyde, Eric and Fez look out the passenger window, grinning and nodding at what they see. And what they see is, in succession:   A) A SHORT-HAIRED BLONDE with pouty lips.   BLONDE: I’m on my way to Bible study. You in?   B) AN OLDER WOMAN.   OLDER WOMAN: You with the curly hair – I think I used to date your dad. Isn’t that a turn-on?   C) A LONG-HAIRED PRISSY GIRL.   PRISSY: I don’t know... I usually only date guys who aren’t as good-looking as me. Otherwise, I’d never date.   D) AN INTENSE GIRL.   INTENSE GIRL: My boyfriend’s in jail, so I guess I could fool around. (beat) Wait... I think he just busted out...   E) A BIG-TOOTHED REDHEAD.   REDHEAD: You know, I’m workin’ the pedals here with just one real leg. Wanna guess which one it is?   F) A MOUSY BRUNETTE, too paralyzed with fear to say anything. She giggles nervously and speeds off.   END MONTAGE. It’s now dark outside. The El Camino idles in a parking space. Hyde is chill, but Eric and Fez both look disturbed.   ERIC:  Well, that was all... deeply unsettling.   FEZ: (to Hyde) How many women who do not cause nightmares do you get in this way?   HYDE: I’d say it averages out to nine chicks a month. Subtract the six who turn out psycho, the two who get too attached, and the one that ditches ya.   ERIC: (beat) That comes to zero women.   HYDE: (shrugs) Hey, I’ve still got the El Camino.   He pats the dashboard as he brings his car into park.   ERIC: I don’t know, Hyde. Does a car and nine no-gos a month really fill the void left by a certain tiny cheerleader? One shrill of voice and intolerable for the sane among us, but with a certain naïve charm that some curly-haired rebels just can’t resist?   HYDE: Does a Vista Cruiser and a bitchy attitude make up for running off the hottest redhead in Wisconsin?   He exits the car, leaving Eric to consider that. Fez leans forward to look out the still-open driver’s door and call after Hyde:   FEZ: This is not over, Johnny Cool! (to Eric) Boy, what a loof.   CUT TO:   INT. FORMAN KITCHEN – NIGHT   Kitty and her catalogues have moved over to the stovetop. She stands over it with JACKIE at her side. Red sits at the kitchen table, eating a sandwich.   KITTY: Thank you for helping me figure out what to do with my new workspace, Jackie. I’m sure you’d rather be out with your boyfriend on a Friday night, but -   JACKIE: Oh, please. I needed a reason to get away tonight. I couldn’t take another second of hearing how we’ll be “hittin’ the road with his new wheels.”   KITTY: (shakes head) Oh, don’t get me started on men and cars, we will be here all night.   She laughs and opens up one of the catalogues.   KITTY (cont’d): Now, most of what I do at the church is helping plan events and fundraisers, so I just need a nice little space to set up a desk and hunker down with the paperwork.   Jackie nods agreeably. She picks up a catalogue and flips through it. At a certain page, she gasps and holds it up for Kitty to see.   JACKIE:  What about this? The Le Palais Bulles look. Pierre Cardin built his house like this on the French Riviera. Ocean view, bean bags for furniture, and the whole house is shaped like a bubble.   KITTY: (beat) Okay, um... my house is shaped like a... like a house. A bean bag is not a desk. And we don’t have an ocean view. We don’t even have a Lake Michigan view. (laughs)   Jackie considers this, turns back to the catalogue.   JACKIE: Ooh, you could model your workspace after Priscilla Presley’s home. She’s got this giant gold chess set that shows off that she’s rich, but she’s also got those crochet patterns old ladies like. That’d be perfect for you, Mrs. Forman!   She beams and bobs on her feet. Kitty gives her a fixed smile, glances around her to Red. He grins back.   RED: How’s doing it yourself working out?   He takes a big bite of her sandwich as Jackie calls Kitty’s attention to another design.   BUMPER   EXT. HUB PARKING LOT - NIGHT   The Hand 2 Van contest goes on. A few have dropped out, but Bob, Kelso, and Daniel remain.   Donna crosses to Bob and passes a tin and a pick to his free hand.   DONNA: Here, Dad. Some mints and your Afro pick.   BOB: Oh, thank God, Donna. My hair was starting to look silly.   Donna smiles, gives Kelso a friendly jab on the shoulder, and heads back to the booth. Daniel follows her with his eyes the whole way.   DANIEL: Hey, check out the redhead.   BOB: That redhead is my baby girl, Donna. I’m her dad.   DANIEL: I want Donna to call me “daddy.”   Kelso’s jaw drops as Bob trembles with rage. Finally, he can’t take it anymore – he takes his hand off the van and advances on Daniel.   BOB: That’s it!   Max hurries over from the table.   MAX: Ah, Bob! You took your hand off the van – you lose!   Max shakes his head and walks away. Bob glares at Daniel.   BOB: This isn’t over.   DANIEL: It is for you. Now, get out of here.   He nods his head toward the street. Bob stares him down for a moment, then slinks off to Max’s table.   Daniel slides along the van to get right up in a grinning Kelso’s face.   DANIEL (cont’d): And so begins the battle of wits.   KELSO: Oh, man. I’ve never been good at wits.   DANIEL: (flat) Really?   BUMPER   MUSIC NOTE: “Rockaway Beach by the Ramones.   INT. HUB - NIGHT   Between it being Friday night and the giveaway going on outside, the Hub is happening – lots of teens, and lots of them girls. “Rockaway Beach” plays on the jukebox. Donna and Melissa chat near the window, and a tall, stout, badly-dressed and poorly groomed girl with glasses struts the floor – at last, we meet BIG RHONDA.   Hyde, Eric, and Fez enter. Donna crosses to them.   DONNA: Hey, guys. What’s going on?   HYDE: Quick pit stop.   DONNA: Cool. There’s a keg behind the radio booth and the guy watching it isn’t checking I.D.s.   The boys all nod and mosey on into the Hub. Hyde and Eric stop to talk to a DARK-HAIRED GIRL and her friends, but Fez’s eye lands on Big Rhonda, near the pinball machine. He crosses over to her.   FEZ: So, you are the notorious Big Rhonda?   RHONDA: Yep. That’s my name. You must be that little foreign cocoa puff.   Fez nods, looks Rhonda over. She gives him a friendly slug on the shoulder.   RHONDA (cont’d): Hey, wanna join me in hittin’ that keg outside? First one to down five cups buys me a hot dog.   Fez raises his eyebrows, intrigued. He allows Rhonda to lead him outside.   Near the bathroom door, Hyde and Eric chat up the dark-haired girl, who leans against the wall.   DARK-HAIRED GIRL: It’s not like head cheerleader’s always the most talented, but in my case, it’s true.   Neither of the boys has an answer to that. The girl leaves them to re-join her friends.   ERIC: (to Hyde) God, would you look at her? Small, dark, and shallow. Hey, just your type, Hyde.   HYDE: Looks like your type’s being picked up.   He points over Eric’s shoulder. Eric looks, sees Donna chatting with a good-looking guy.   Deflated, Eric sighs, wanders over to a round table and leans against it. He doesn’t even notice the cute girl, KATIE, sitting there. She looks up at him and smiles.   KATIE: Hey.   Eric doesn’t respond.   KATIE (cont’d): So... that Hand 2 Van contest, huh?   ERIC: Yuh-huh.   KATIE: And the words kind of sound alike, so that’s always fun.   ERIC: Look – no offense, but I’m really not in the mood for talking. I just broke up with my girlfriend, so…   KATIE: Aww... you poor thing.   She puts a hand on his arm.   KATIE (cont’d): You know, you have these sad lips that are just so hot.   ERIC: (beat) Really?   He pulls up a chair and sits across from Katie.   FADE TO BLACK   COMMERCIAL   BUMPER   INT. HUB – NIGHT   Picking up right where we left off. “Come On, Come On” by Cheap Trick now plays on the jukebox. Hyde chats with Melissa near the counter. Eric is still at the table with Katie. Fez and Rhonda have come back in from the keg and stand near the pinball machine.   RHONDA: This summer, I’m going to visit my aunt in Mississippi.   FEZ: Oh, you’re going away? That is sad.   RHONDA: Hey, you should come with me, chocolate milk!   She slaps him on the chest and downs what’s left of the beer in her cup.   At their table, Katie pulls her seat in closer to Eric, so that they’re right next to each other.   KATIE: When I looked up and saw you, I saw a guy who was wounded. The guy who sits in the dark, waiting for the light to find him again.   At that moment, Donna comes in from the contest. She sees Eric and Katie, and Eric sees her.   ERIC: (to Katie) If only I could find this light you speak of, then maybe – just maybe – my pain might go away.   KATIE: Would it help if I held you?   ERIC: I doubt it. (beat) But let’s try, Katie.   They hug.   ERIC (cont’d): Yeah, lower – yeah.   Donna remains by the door, fuming.   Hyde takes a sip from his red cup and looks Melissa over.   HYDE: So, what do you do for fun?   MELISSA: We’re in Wisconsin. So, nothing.   HYDE: So you wouldn’t want to do something some time?   MELISSA: Sorry. I did something last night, and I already made plans for some time.   She moves around him, brushing his shoulder with hers as she walks, and heads outside.   Fez and Rhonda have taken over an empty table. Fez stands on it and raises his red beer cup high. He’s not exactly steady on his feet.   FEZ: A toast: to all my good friends. I will miss you when I blow out of this burg with the beautiful Big Rhonda.   He actually picks up some applause.   FEZ (cont’d): Now, it’s off to Mississiphylis!   He downs the rest of his beer. He slips off the table and is caught bridal-style by Rhonda.   CUT TO:   EXT. HUB PARKING LOT – NIGHT   On goes the contest. Kelso and Daniel are all that’s left. Bob comes around the van with a coffee cup, hands it to Kelso.   BOB: Here, Kelso. Thought you might need some coffee to keep you going.   He exits, shooting Daniel a dirty look as he does so. Kelso quickly downs his coffee.   DANIEL: (to Kelso) Hey, you know what would be fun? Seeing which one of us could drink the most coffee, huh?   Kelso laughs and nods.   DANIEL (cont’d): Oh, no. You’ll just lose.   KELSO: No, I would not. I could so beat you!   DANIEL: Well, I doubt that.   KELSO: Oh, you’re goin’ down!   TIME LAPSE   Moments later. Kelso drains a cup of coffee and throws it down in triumph.   KELSO: That’s my six to your one!   DANIEL: Yeah, you really whipped me. Kelso, you ever been to Niagara Falls?   KELSO: Uh-uh.   DANIEL: Don’t you like the soothing sound of water?   KELSO: Yeah, I guess.   DANIEL: You ever sat beside a babbling brook, listening to the beautiful, steady stream of water?   KELSO: Well, I – okay, I don’t know if you realize this, but all this talk about water’s really making me have to go pee.   DANIEL: Oh, yeah, yeah. I’m sorry. Yeah, I can see that “urine” a lot of pain.   KELSO: Yeah, well, you better shut up, ‘cause you’re gonna have to go too.   DANIEL: That’s where you’re wrong: I am going.   He pulls up his pant leg, revealing a thermos strapped to his ankle with a tube stretching up into his pants.   CUT TO:   INT. FORMAN KITCHEN - NIGHT   The decorating continues, and not well. Red is still at the kitchen table, now reading a newspaper. Kitty leans on the stovetop, trying to keep calm. Jackie is the only one still upbeat as she keeps flipping through catalogues.   JACKIE: Ooh, what about this one, Mrs. Forman? (shows Kitty) Barbara Streisand has a big desk next to the antique armchair. And just look at that chandelier.   KITTY: (beat) A chandelier? What am I going to do with a chandelier? There are two rooms in this house that I could use as a workspace, and neither one is even tall enough for a chandelier!   JACKIE: Okay, I’m sensing you’re not in love with the chandelier. (flips through catalogue) Oh, but Lee Raziwill has this gorgeous -   Kitty takes the catalogue from Jackie and shuts it.   KITTY: Okay, okay – I’ve changed my mind. I think I’ll just bring in a contractor to set up my workspace.   RED: And there it is.   He folds up his newspaper and checks his watch.   RED (cont’d): And hey, it didn’t even take as long as I thought.   He grins at a pouting Kitty, stands, and exits into the living room.   KITTY: Oh, well. Thank you anyway, Jackie, for all the help you were... you were trying to give. Tell you what – the night’s still young. Why don’t you go see if you can catch up with your boyfriend?   JACKIE:  Yeah, I should probably check on Michael, see how that radio giveaway’s going.   KITTY: (beat) Michael? Honey, you mean Steven.   JACKIE: No, I mean Michael.   KITTY: But I thought you were going to check on your boyfriend.   JACKIE: Yeah... Michael is my boyfriend. We got back together weeks ago. Steven’s the one who made sure we made things up.   Kitty jaw goes slack as she stares at Jackie.   KITTY: You’re back together with Michael? All the time you kids spend in my house, and no one tells me anything!   She shakes her head and throws up her hands.   CUT TO:   INT. HUB - NIGHT   The jukebox now plays “Sweet Talkin’ Woman” by the Electric Light Orchestra. While Eric and Katie continue to chat (and Donna continues to fume), Hyde leads Fez by the shoulder toward the door, just of out earshot of Rhonda, who is scarfing down hot dogs at a table near the pinball.   FEZ: I know I just met her, Hyde, but I love her. She is sturdy. I want to climb her.   HYDE: Man, you are desperate to give it away.   FEZ: Yes. Yes I am.   HYDE: Okay, Fez, time for a little advice. First: if a chick outweighs you by thirty pounds, you’re in for trouble.   FEZ: Oh, I’ll put on weight. I’ll bridge the gap.   HYDE: And that brings me to my second point: when used separately, chicks and booze are a lot of fun. But mix ‘em up, and you end spending your summer ass-deep in a swamp down south in Dixie.   Fez looks down in thought as Hyde pats him on the back.   Eric and Katie have moved into the booth seat. Eric briefly glances at Donna as Katie rubs his back.   ERIC: (to Katie) If you really think that putting my head on your lap will make me feel better... I mean, I guess I should try.   He adjusts himself so that he can lie down in the booth seat with his head in Katie’s lap.   DONNA: All right, that’s it. (to Katie) Excuse me? Hi. I have some information -   Eric shoots upright.   ERIC: (to Katie) No, don’t listen to what she’s... I’m... she’s the one who hurt me!   DONNA: Uh-huh. Yeah. He dumped me.   KATIE: (gasps) You dumped her?   ERIC: Well, I had to. She wouldn’t... she wouldn’t take my ring.   KATIE: (to Donna) You wouldn’t take his ring?   DONNA: This is none of your business! (to Eric) And you are a sad little man.   Katie looks at Eric with much less sympathy, and he squirms uncomfortably in his seat.   CUT TO:   EXT. HUB PARKING LOT - NIGHT   A short time later. The contest is still ongoing between Kelso and Daniel. Max and Bob still man the table, while Donna and Melissa watch from the booth. But there’s a new presence in the lot: Jackie is at Kelso’s side, talking.   JACKIE: Michael, this is so much nicer than your old van. I mean, this pea-soup green is – ugh – but with a little paint job -   KELSO: You mean, like a mural, or like the Mystery Machine? Either way, I’m there!   JACKIE: (nods) Yeah, you could have an eagle, soaring majestically over the clouds, or a wild stallion charging through the desert.   KELSO: I bet ya Fez would like that one! But it might give him some ideas...   He and Jackie both wince at what kind of “ideas” he’s talking about.   KELSO (cont’d): Oh, what about one of those wizards surrounded by fire?   Daniel leans his head against the van. The conversation’s getting to him.   JACKIE: No, wait Michael, I’ve got it. The mural should be about – me!   DANIEL: Oh, my God.   KELSO: (to Jackie) Yeah, I could totally see you airbrushed on the side of the new Shaggin’ Wagon! Would you wanna be in your black dress or your new bikini?   JACKIE: Why are those my only choices? I have so many mural-worthy outfits to choose from.   KELSO: I guess that’s true. Like your lavender top with the dark gold scarf for winter.   JACKIE: Or my bottleneck paired with my red beret.   KELSO: Or your cheerleading uniform.   JACKIE: Or my -   DANIEL: Oh, my God!   He turns to face them.   DANIEL (cont’d): I can’t take it anymore! (mocking) “What should we paint the van? Shouldn’t it be me? What should I wear?”   He lets go of the van with both hands to grab Jackie and cover her mouth.   DANIEL (cont’d): SHUT UP!   But that’s Max’s cue. With a portable transmitter and microphone on him, he jumps up and crosses to the van.   MAX: And we finally have a winner!   Daniel, in shock, releases Jackie, while Kelso hops up and down, still not letting go of the van. Donna and Melissa cross to Bob, and they all applaud.   KELSO: I did it! Oh, my God, I won! (to Daniel) Who’s the best? I’m the best! Loser!   DANIEL: I’m not a loser, okay? I win everything. I don’t lose, I win! Because I’m a winner!   He slowly slinks away, calling back as he exits:   DANIEL (cont’d): I’m a winner!   With him gone, Max adjusts the transmitter and crosses to Kelso and Jackie.   MAX: So, Michael Kelso, tell Wisconsin how it feels to be WFPP’s new Hand 2 Van winner.   He holds out the microphone for Kelso, who leans in.   KELSO: Well, I guess I have to say it like this, Max: if this van’s a-rockin’, we’re in there doing it.   JACKIE: Michael!   KELSO: Oh, I’m sorry. I’m doing it with Jackie Burkhart!   Max, Bob, Donna, and Melissa all shake their heads as Jackie slaps Kelso in the chest.   CUT TO:   INT. FORMAN KITCHEN – NIGHT   A short time later. Kitty is still up, back at the kitchen table with her catalogues. A portable radio, shut off, is on the table too.   Eric and Hyde enter through the patio door.   KITTY: Hello, boys.   Eric keeps walking, all the way to the basement, but Hyde stops at the kitchen table.   HYDE: Hey, Mrs. Forman. What are you doing up so late?   KITTY: Oh, just getting a few things together to show the contractor. (taps the catalogue page) You know, I do like this wallpaper Lee Radziwill used here. Guess Jackie had the right idea after all. (laughs)   HYDE: You had Jackie over?   KITTY: Uh-huh.   HYDE: (looks left and right) She still around?   KITTY: No, she went to go check on Michael. (taps radio) He just won the van giveaway. They cut the broadcast when Jackie started yelling at him for... well, for saying what they’d be doing in the van.   HYDE: Huh.   He leans on the back of a chair as he looks off into space. Kitty looks up at him in sympathy, pats his hand.   KITTY: That was a very selfless thing you did, getting them back together. I can only imagine how hard that was for you.   Hyde stirs; he realizes his guard’s down.   KITTY (cont’d): It didn’t really sink in until now, did it?   HYDE: What? No! Come on, man, that’s – pfft! Like I care.   He shrugs, jabs at the air. Kitty sees through the display. She stands, brings Hyde’s head down for a kiss on the cheek, and pats him on the shoulder before exiting into the living room.   Once she’s gone, Hyde takes his sunglasses off. He runs a hand down his face and stares off again.   Eric comes running back in from the basement.   ERIC: Oh, YES! Burn, baby, burn!   He points and snickers as Hyde scowls.   FADE TO BLACK   CREDITS   INT. HUB – NIGHT   The crowd has finally thinned out. It’s now just Rhonda, Fez, and Donna at a round table.   FEZ: (to Rhonda) Rhonda, I cannot go to Mississippi.   RHONDA: (tearing up) So, you’re not coming?   FEZ: I’m sorry. But maybe we can go to the movies sometime.   RHONDA: And make out in the theater? Yeah! Call me.   She kisses Fez on the cheek and struts out the door.   DONNA: (to Fez) Good God, sober up, man.   FEZ: Oh, screw it, Donna. Fez likes them big, Fez likes them small, Fez likes them all.   Donna laughs and claps him on the arm.   END.

I was born on 22nd of Asar, 2057 at Bageshwori, Kathmandu to my parents, father Ajay Shrestha and mother Geeta Shrestha. We were my mom, dad, elder sister, younger brother and me; altogether we were 5 members in our family. Our middle classed life style would be working well. Simple labour would provide us with food and shelter. We had a fulfilled and happy family.

Even though I took birth as a girl, the way I dressed up, my behaviors, walking and talking style, everything about me ended up being different from the other girls. I started feeling that I related my behaviors to boys rather than girls. I would feel like a boy. I got to feel the difference in everything. I had that confidence to carry out all the tasks that a boy could do. I only had boys as friends as well. Due to my behavior my family began to have problems. Our society has that deep impression in mind that if you are a boy then you should hang out and be friend with boys only and if you are a girl then you should hang out and be friends with girls only.

We already have the sense of what should be done and what should not be done according to our sexual identification, so I could not escape from this thing that had direct effect on every one of us. Along with the growing age my sexual preferences also started changing. Being a girl myself, I started liking girls only but my dress up was just like the common boys. What am I? How am I like this? These matters were out of my knowledge but the society recognized and called me a third gender. Even my own family members looked at me in the same way. I would cry and scream a lot. What do I do? How do I move ahead? This started pinching me. There was no one to help me and boost up my confidence. I had no idea where to go and what to do. And because of these matters I was attacked by depression day by day.

I always had the enthusiasm to watch “Thai” movies, while watching those movies I came to know that I was a Trans-man. That was really hard for me to realize and accept. I was already not so good in the eyes of everyone but when I came to discover myself, it only added the question of what I was. As I fell under depression from class 5 itself, I could not study. During my schooling as I always would wear the boy’s uniform I got beaten up at class 7.

The concerned authority of the school started pressurizing me to put on the girl’s uniform being a girl myself and not to break the rules of the school. When I told the school authority that I cannot put on the girl’s uniform instead I would prefer wearing the boy’s uniform, they accused me of breaking and disobeying the school rules and regulations, they scolded me badly and closed the doors of the school forever for me after handing out the certificate of school as a passed out student. Due to my sex orientation I already had enough problems going on in my life and this event added new problem to my life and so the condition of my depression\ started worsening. I was in no condition to do anything. I started losing consciousness of what I did and how I did it.

I did not realize that I took drastic step of trying to kill my family members many times. And this fear inside me made me far from my family. I wanted to live far away from my family and society and live my life with my own so I made up my mind and left my home.

I lived at the house of my friend. I started doing whatever work I could do. There was nobody to help me and understand my situation. I began to cry, scream and getting scared at that time. I began to like the darkness. Those days were not easy for me as I spent so many nights with an empty stomach by tying my stomach with a scarf. I had no helping hands and nobody to share my pain with. My eyes still gets filled with tears while remembering those days that I spent in struggle after getting out of my home, family and society, I still can’t get over that pain. In the phase of living alone, those who came to know that I was a girl tried to rape me. I was successful to run and save myself. The bitter phase of my life, those who were born in the name of social people were actually hyenas who were waiting for the time to attack and did not care about somebody’s feelings. It started getting difficult for me to walk around and work in that society. It was difficult for me to survive.

These problems would wander around my eyes everyday and this made me lose the confidence to live my life, so getting tired of it I took the decision to commit suicide and end my life. But as the saying goes that one does not die until the correct time comes, the people saved me from taking my life and compelled me to struggle again in the cruel society.

Many painful events would always occupy my heart and mind. I would be scared of walking alone and go to work as well. These circumstances made me more and more tired and pushed me more towards depression. As I felt sick most often my family came to check upon me at my friend’s home and took me for further treatment. The doctor would say different disease. I could not get proper treatment at the right time. Due to the poor condition of our financial status as well I could not get good treatment. This illness was what the society called and gave me for having different sexual preferences. I felt more uncomfortable and insecure when the doctor made fun of me and tried touched the vital parts of my body. I was compelled to endure everything and get treated by the doctor. I had nobody hear me out and understand me. I was helpless and got treated as much as I could afford with my family conditions.

After staying at hospital for several days, my health got a little better so I got discharged and went home but due to my sexual identity my family asked me to hide being different and told me to live at my relative’s home at Pokhara. May be that was a good decision for me from my parents that my health condition got better with the fresh environment and healthy life. My life there was easier as the society did not know about me. After knowing that my health got better there my family decided to take me back to Kathmandu. As the others said that I was fine, my family thought so. The repression in my heart suffocating me was understood by nobody. I was not completely well, my agitation in my heart had lots of questions due to various reasons and I had no answer to any of those aroused questions. As I remained lost into my own thoughts, I had no idea that fell into loneliness all over again. The days and nights were similar for me, this way being helpless and half dead person as I lived my life.

As the days were passing this way, one of my friend’s sisters told me about Mitini Nepal, I was overwhelmed to know that they work for people like us to solve our problems. Realizing that now finally I got the way to solve my problem did not allow me to fall asleep that entire night. I kept on thinking for the sunrise next day so that I could go there. As this kept on moving in my heart I did not know when the night fell down and the sun had risen up. I got ready in a hurry and came over. I was amazed to see others like me there and got to know what it was and also got introduced to everyone.

I also got the complete orientation about my sexuality and identity and getting to see the witness the others like me getting the help from Mitini Nepal to protect them, provide them with all the help and basic needs, getting the various developmental trainings made me realize that now the difficult phase of my life are coming towards the end. And I got to know in detail about myself and my sexual orientation. I became capable and confident to tell my family and society aboout myself.

Though the society did not accept me but my family accepted me the way I was. I had those victorious feelings in me as if I had won a long fought war. That day it made me realize that it was my own fault. If i had that courage to understand myself then I would not have faced so many hurdles in my life. But I was still satisfied to understand and make others aware about these cases as it was still not too late. I forgot all the pains I had been through and I walked hand in hand with my family. As I got the welcomed arms of my family, the pains before felt like nothing and I started living happily with my family.

My days now were finally filled with happiness and joys. One day I had been to Dharan with some of my friends from Kathmandu. I was more than happy to meet my friend after a very long time. We talked for the entire night sharing about the happenings of each other. We did not even realize when the night ended. Early in the morning, we made a plan to visit Ithari so we went toward a place called Tarara. During this visit I got to meet Neelam. We had the lunch together and moved in our own direction. The next day I had to go to Jhapa for certain work, so I went to Jhapa but during the evening time I came back to Dharan.

Neelam happened to be the local resident of Tarara. My friend knew her really well. We had the fate to meet again and that aroused a strange feeling in my heart. Because just having heard that I was meeting her again made my heart flutter and I was also surprised to realize that. Though I did not know her well but we kept on meeting from time to time. I don’t know if it was our regular meeting or due to other reasons but I started getting attracted to her. I was scared to tell her as I did not know anything about her. When I came to know that she was a Bisexual I geared up all my confidence and purposed to her, she said yes, this happiness was out of my imagination and I felt like I could go crazy.

Yesterday, I was living far from everybody but today I had the support and love of everybody in my life, my happiness had no limit. Our days were passing by. We were both very happy. We spent happy times together. We talked to Neelam’s parents but they did not accept us due to the fear of the society. But they had no problem with our relationship. I told my parents about us as well. I called my mother and confessed that I was bringing a daughter in law for her, she was really happy. She told me to bring her daughter in law to Kathmandu so we both headed to my home at Kathmandu.

Everyone in my family was happy to see her. She was also very happy. We are happy to spend our life together. One day her family shall also accept us and invite us over in a good environment is a positive wish that we have and along with this positivity inside me I am working at Mitini Nepal right now for those who are like me; those who is not able to reveal their identity. I help in providing them the orientation, awareness, various trainings, positive knowledge and support them to fight for their rights in a family and society.

Due to the family, society and my own lack of awareness, I had to go through many problems but there shall be a little less problem for those in the upcoming generation. I wish n pray that nobody like me has to go through the hyenas in the future for having a different sexual orientation. Before it is too late, the people working in various authorities in the higher administration should raise voice strictly abiding the laws for the protection of LGBTI community or it might not be practiced properly in any areas. The words written in the constitution of our country should be implemented in real as well for the government to be successful. It would be easier if there were vacancies for the LGBTI community people in every sector. I wish if the potentiality within us to go in vain along with our death.

Life is a Game of Risks, Chapter 68

Chapter Summary - Lily becomes cold to Tom and neither he nor Alexianna knows why.

TRIGGERS - Past domestic abuse, Past emotional abuse, Past sexual abuse.

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Tags: @damalseer @hiddlesbitch1 @winterisakiller @theoneanna @wolfsmom1

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NOTES - I have not seen Betrayal and have ZERO knowledge of it is appropriate for a 5-year-old so let's pretend it's PG for this.

Tom felt a pang, unlike anything he had felt before. He felt as though he had been struck. Lily had accepted him in her life since she first met him, and though there were occasions where she did not like him exacting parental obligations over her, the same as with her mother but the anger never lasted long then. But she was holding onto this, if anything, it was becoming worse, whatever it was.

*

The plan had not been to bring Lily to the show, but Yakov and Sophie got sick so Sarah stayed home as to not risk spreading their bug, least of all to her pregnant sister and her brother’s pregnant partner. So that left a spare ticket, and with Lily having gone to two shows with her school, Emma and Alexianna thought it a good idea to bring Lily with them instead.

She was excellently behaved through the show. Sitting in her seat, remaining quiet and such. She said nothing the whole ninety minutes, she simply sat as she was supposed to. When it ended and everyone rose to their feet and clapped, Aalexianna notice that Lily did so with very mild enthusiasm if any at all. With a slight frown on her face, she turned to look at Emma, who too noticed the odd demeanour Lily was sporting. They looked at each other once more before looking to the stage, where Tom realised they were there, giving them the warmest smile as he did without trying to inform the theatre as to who they were.

Alexianna ushered Lily outside, knowing Tom would be caught by fans for a time to come as he was every evening, so she walked with Emma to the door, Lily’s hand in hers. When they got outside, she looked at her daughter again, slightly confused. “Lil’s? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, Mummy.”

Neither Emma nor Alexianna knew what to say in response. Clearly, something was bothering her, but she could not be forced into saying anything, she would have to say it herself. Alexianna watched with confusion as Lily held herself in against her mother. She had no idea what was bothering her daughter, Lily had been excited at the idea of going to the play, she was excited when she saw Tom’s picture on the posters, and she was excited when she saw Tom on stage, but that had all ended now, she was the epitome of the word morose and neither her mother or aunt could not fathom what had changed in the duration of the play.

For the rest of the evening, between the show and getting Lily to bed, far past her bedtime, Alexianna attempted to get her daughter to confide in her, but to no avail, Lily was in no mood to speak to her regarding her matter, but knowing her daughter was somewhat like herself, she did not push it.

When Tom arrived home for the night, he smiled at Lily as he checked on her before getting ready for bed that night, noting she did not have Toothless in her embrace as she usually did, he instead was on the floor under her bed, alongside Baloo. Not wanting to wake her, he did not go over to put them back to the pride of place by her head as she slept, he simply closed the door and went to the bathroom before going to bed for the night, smiling at the gently light coming out from under the bedroom door as it did on occasion when Alexianna attempted to wait up for him or when she fell asleep reading. Tom was startled when he saw her sitting up and looking at him. “Lexi?”

“You were incredible.” She smiled, putting down the book she had been reading.

Tom stripped to his boxers and got into the bed next to her, pulling her to him and putting his hand on her stomach, loving the fact their baby now caused her stomach to protrude so obviously. “Thank you. I didn’t see Sarah.”

“There’s a tummy bug in hers. She didn’t want to risk Emma or me getting ill, we brought Lily with us.”

“Very wise decision. How is our little one doing?”

“I didn’t feel ill today either, I think my morning sickness is over.” She looked down unamused. “It’s the one that’s already here is the issue.” Tom looked at her in confusion. “Something is up with Lil’s. She was all happy going to the play but coming out she was all quiet and morose.”

Tom frowned slightly. “That’s not like our little girl. Did you try talking to her?”

“Several times.”

He kissed her, rubbing her stomach gently. “I will see if I can get her to talk to me in the morning. For now, you need to rest.” He urged her to put her book down and turn off the light.

“You were incredible.”

“Thank you.” He noticed her turning towards him. Knowing what she was trying to instigate from the manner she moved, causing him to smile slightly.

From previous experiences, Alexianna did not feel comfortable in her pregnancy, nor did she feel sexually attractive, Tom had, through small patient steps, taught her that if anything, her pregnancy caused her to be all the more attractive to him. In doing so, she became ever so slowly more comfortable in herself and had on occasion been the one to instigate intimacy. Proud of her personal growth, Tom smiled and leant closer to kiss her, being mindful of their son or daughter as he did so.

*

Tom realised the next morning that Alexianna’s worries for Lily were not some oddly perceived notion, but an actual concern. Alexianna went for a shower to get ready for work while Tom made breakfast. Lily came down for her food but said nothing to Tom, instead just walking to the table and sitting without a word.

“Good morning Princess, what can I get you for breakfast? Did you sleep well?” He smiled when he turned around from the kettle and noticed her there. Lily didn’t respond. “Lil’s?” She did not seem overly happy for him to call her again and retaliated with an angry glare, startling him further. “Lily?” It was more of confusion than anything when he spoke her name again, but she did not respond.

When Alexianna came down a few minutes later, she sensed the tension and looked to Tom for an explanation, but got none. “Lil’s?”

“I want porridge, Mummy, please.”

Considering her coldness to Tom, he was startled by her new attitude to her mother being in the room. Alexianna did as required and gave her daughter her meal, when she did so, Lily purposedly hugged her mother before glaring at Tom again and eating her food. Both Alexianna and Tom tried to figure out what the issue was but to no avail.

Tom took her to school, but she said nothing to him the entire way, He tried to engage conversation with her a few times, but she merely gave cold one word responses if any at all.

When they got to the school gate, he looked back at her in her car seat. “Lily, what’s wrong, Princess?”

“Nothing.” She sounded more like a stroppy teenager than a five-year-old.

“Lily…”

“Leave me alone, Tom.”

Tom was stunned into silence. Lily had only called him Tom a handful of times in her life, and not once since he and Alexianna had become serious enough to cease trying to get her to stop calling him that. Heartbroken, he said nothing more and got out of the car to let her into the school. He remembered one of the times he was angry at his mother for not letting him do something, at that moment, he told her he wished he lived with his father instead, he remembered her face. He knew after he said it that he hurt his mother incredibly deeply and he regretted it, but this was his karma, he felt as he knew his mother felt that day, twenty-four years later. He also remembered what Diana did and said, so he opened the door and knelt down, blocking Lily’s exit from the car, she did not look at him, but stared at the seat in front of her. “I don’t know why you are feeling angry with me. I cannot think of what I did, but I am here to talk to when you are ready, and I love you so very much, Lily. You’re my little girl and call me Dad, Daddy, Tom, Thomas or even giraffe face, I will still love you, always and forever.” She did not look at him and got off her belt before getting out of the car. He leant down and kissed the top of her head, but she said nothing to him and went into school, not looking back at him. He got into the car and tried to fathom what was happening with her. He texted Alexianna to tell her what was happening, then was forced to do some shopping before going to the Pinter, since he didn’t like Alexianna dragging shopping in her condition, deeply hurt by what was happening.

*

Tom didn’t see Lily for the rest of the day. There was a matinée showing of the play and he was also doing a show that night. When he got home, Alexianna was already asleep. Still, he checked on Lily before going to bed himself, still hurt by everything.

When he woke the next morning, his hand was on Alexianna’s stomach and she was curled in close against him. He felt her hand go over his. “Do you think she knows about the baby and is feeling jealous?”

Tom had thought that too, but it did not explain her coldness to just him and not her mother. “I thought so, but I don’t think so. Could someone have said about me not being her father?”

“Doubt it, we told her all along and it never concerned her.” Alexianna reminded him.

Tom groaned. “I didn’t realise five-year-olds could hold a grudge this long. I thought they got sidetracked and forgot.”

“Not my children. She is always stubborn, this baby is also stubborn, though with you being the father, I am not sure it is all me this time.” Tom huffed slightly. Usually, that would earn a hearty chuckle from him, but with Lily’s behaviour, he was not able to be overly happy with the situation. “She will come around, whatever her problem is.” She rubbed her hand on his arm in comfort.

Tom said nothing more on it.

Being a Saturday and with her exams done, Alexianna was not working; relieved, she decided to try and convince Lily to voice her issues to her. Tom was due for another matinée and with Lily acting as she was, he was wondering if he should spend a day or two elsewhere to see if anything would change.

Alexianna was making porridge and Tom was making coffee when Lily entered the room.

“Hey, Sweetheart.”

“Hi, Mummy.” Lily’s tone was not overly outgoing, but she saluted her mother nonetheless.

“Did you sleep okay?”

“No.”

“Why not?” Lily did not answer. “Lily?” Nothing. “Please answer me.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Is it because of me?” Tom waded into the conversation. He was met with the glare again. “Lily, what have I done?”

Lily remained silent. “Lily, Daddy asked you a question,” alexianna argued. Nothing. “Lily…”

“Lexi…” Tom soothed her before he walked forward toward Lily. “Lily, we all have the right to get angry, and to feel angry but there comes a time when we have to tell people why we are angry and not bottle it up. I want to talk to you again but you have to tell me why you are so cross with me. I need to leave for work later, but I want us to be talking first, please?”

Lily stepped away from the table.

“Lily, sit down,” Alexianna ordered.

“No.”

“Lily…” Her mother’s tone became more of a warning.

“No, I don’t want to eat.” She folded her arms.

“Lily, don’t be rude.” Tom joined Alexianna’s stand and did not allow Lily to think either would give in.

“You’re not allowed boss me, go boss that other girl acause you care more about her and her Mummy than you do me and Mummy. You love her.” Tears welled in Lily’s eyes and she walked over to Alexianna, curling in against her mother for a hug.

At that moment, both Alexianna and Tom paused. “Wait, what other girl? What mother?” Tom asked, baffled.

“In the show. You were all nice to that girl and cuddled her and she called you Daddy when you are not apposed to be her Daddy, you’re apposed to be mine and you kissed that lady that isn’t Mummy. So you are going to leave us and not be my daddy anymore.”

Alexianna looked at Tom, who seemed to feel as though he was after figuring out a great mystery. “Lil’s, you’re wrong.” She knelt down next to her daughter to look her in the eye. “Tom cuddled that girl, yes, and he did give that other woman, a lovely lady named Zawe, a kiss, but not because he loves them or he is her Daddy, but because it is part of the play. They are actors, just like Tom. They don’t want to steal him, Amelia, that girl he was with, she is pretending to be his daughter, she doesn’t want to steal him from you.” Lily eyed Tom warily.

Tom came over and smiled lovingly at her. “Lily?” She glanced at him. “Thank you.” She gave him a confused look. “Thank you for telling us why you were upset. I hope you can see that by telling us, we can explain to you that what you think was not what was happening and that we can fix this.”

“So...you don’t want that other girl?”

“No, Princess. She has a Daddy already, and I don’t want to be her Daddy, I love being yours.”

“So when you kissed that lady…?”

“Before Tom ever went to the show, he told me part of it was to give Zawe a kiss,” Alexianna explained. “I knew about it and Daddy told me.” She put some of Lily’s hair behind her ear. “It is part of acting sometimes, Sweetheart, and Daddy had to pretend to be married to her. It’s all pretend, that is why Auntie Emma and I never got mad.”

“I thought he was being bold,” Lily explained meekly. “And that he didn’t love us anymore.” Her tears fell.

“Oh, Lily.” Tom pulled her to him. “I told you already, my Princess. I will love you forever.” He kissed her head as Lily allowed the emotions she felt as a result of her not understanding the play fully out. Her confusion, her anger at her perceived wrongs by Tom, her despair at the idea of him leaving them in her mind. “I love you, my Little Princess.” He held her, not saying anything as she held onto him. When finally she pulled back, she hiccupped as she took in air between breaths. “Oh, my little girl.” He kissed her temple. “I will show you, no matter what happens in life, Daddy will always be there,”

“I’m sorry I called you Tom, Daddy.”

“You thought I didn’t love you anymore, Princess, I understand you were sad.” He cuddled her close. “But you need to come to me when you have something to say, not pretend I don’t exist. We cannot fix things if we don’t talk, alright?”

“Yes, Daddy.” She curled in against him again. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Lily, never question that.” He kissed her temple again. “I always will.”

“I promise never to call you giraffe face.”

Tom chuckled slightly. “Good, I am not like a giraffe, am I?”

“Not in the face, you’re tall like one though.”

So there's this guy who isn't so great...

So i saw a photo of him and I'd seen it before but this time i was thinking about some dark shit...

And I realized who he is...

It doesn't always happen that way... Actually... Like it was dark but not bad... Then what i remember was bad...

And so may be this girl was lying and it was the way it was initially with the memories about this guy... And maybe she did deserve her ass beat...

But their relationship wasn't as he wanted me to believe... Like it was more like how she said it was...

And may be 100% like she said... Like maybe it really does only take 20 minutes for an abortion. How would i know? I never had one... Or may be her mom was confused... About what time i dropped her off... Idk im trying to remember 10 years later and frankly i don't even care.

I washed my hands of both of them fully in 2008....

So now randomly he's popped back in my life... And completely random...

I didn't have a problem with him until he kept lying to me... Like for real lies like "I'm coming over" and he doesn't. Like that. Not like i think he's lying... Like its really obvious hes lying... Like its a fact.

Then i was all fuck this shit. And Matt happened to be with him and I waited like 8 hours and he did this huge song and dance and so i told Matt, punch him 5 times, at least 2x in the face.

So Matt did... Cause dam dude it was ridiculous. I already seen him and i already identified his alter ego but i was okay to over look it. Like it wasn't my relationship and it wasn't like it been 10 years since she had him arrested for beating her and i went with her to the court...

Yeah he definitely can't handle alcohol...

Like he would be cool at my house at first but as the night wore on... I would be like 2 hours later... Time for bed and make an excuse of life i had the next day instead of drinking and hanging out all night

He would be all "its nine o'clock!!" And i would be all "yeah Tom, sometimes we all have to grow up and admit responsibility"

Yeah sometimes he was a bitch... Like when i said anything with sense he would be all "i need to duct tape her mouth"

Or that one time he wanted to put me in my kitchen trash bin... I told him i didn't give a Fuck so he put it over my head and i told him to pick up the trash off my kitchen floor and he did then swept it and left a big pile in the floor...

But overall he was just his unique self that i kinda got used to...

Because his drama with my friend was between them -- unless my friend bitched about him later, like when we took the kids to the park, and i tried to help her figure him out.

Anyways so now i know my friend wasn't lying about him...

And i know other shit he did... Like to me...

Cause i actually knew him in Alabama, NYC, Texas, Oklahoma and now here... Like a stalker...

And so i am wondering... Should I tell him what i know? What i remember? The bad things?

Or should i just not?

I wonder if it will do any good... Like Why for put myself through his bull shit when i really just want to be left alone?

Do i want to remember?

No... I don't want to feel my ribs feeling like they're about to break or sharp pains on the side of my head -- the side closest to the wall in the bed so he could say i fell instead of it being on the side where he slept...

Like being drugged... So he can lie as to why he and my ex husband thought it was great to spike drinks.... Like ...

I don't care. I really don't.

He knows what he did and I just want him to go away. Obviously he isn't going to stop... Obviously he shouldn't be around the female human...

But what I'm just gonna pull evidence out his ass? My ass? Prove it?

I really don't think i can...

He already was sentenced 9 months for what he did to my friend.

May be he learned... Idk.

Obviously hes not going to come over and despite his recent meddling, people have come to their senses about him... Like he totally doesn't give a shit about me. Or them.

So obviously i left him when i was younger, between his father and mine, i got out of the house with him and he quickly moved on to "someone better" and he brought her over and the next one an the next cause he thought when i told the girls he beat me, i was jealous and trying to break them up...

When i was saying, I am so glad i left and I'm left alone 90% of the time and he isn't all up my ass bugging me and being weird and hitting me cause he had nothing else to do and no brain activity. And that it could happen to them, too. For no fucking reason.

It took a while, too for his dad to help me understand it wasn't me... Like he was just crazy... Stupid. Jealous. And dumb. Not too long but i did have to be taught that there's no difference between an abusive boyfriend or girlfriend or husband and an abusive parent or sibling. I always thought i really did something wrong

Now I know... I let him live and i was afraid of him and to let the "monster inside of me" out. And i was afraid I wouldn't win and i would die at his hands.

Now I'm not. Now I don't even care although I know for a fact he could probably break my neck in less than 10 seconds... Not because I'm suicidal or don't care about myself.

But because I do care about myself and I know that i can kick his ass. I know i don't have to and i know i can kick his ass soft enough that he behaves better and also that i can kick it so he never breathes again.

Because I'm angry. At what he did to me. Im angry that i believe without a doubt he would do it again if i didn't know all HIS male friends that would kick his ass, without a doubt until he quit bleeding.

Because I'm angryi have to feel the physical pain he did to me and i have to remember the bruises and the tears and the frustration and annoyance and knowledge that i wasn't loved.

Because I'm angry my fucking ribs hurt.

Idk that night he put on his act. I wanted him dead. Like i didn't care. I wanted to. I really did. I wanted to care about his life and his safety but I didn't. I hated him. With every cell of my being.

Matt said "i only punched him 2x in the face" i was all go back and hit him 10x in the face!!! Like it wasn't enough and i KNOW Matt did to to what he deserved not tappy tap tap.

I heard that over a week later, on Halloween, his face was still mangled... Like 6 broken noses and 5 black eyes... Like... Obviously he only has one nose and 2 eyes but there was enough damaged tissue for more.

I dont even feel bad... Like i still feel,it isn't enough. Because now i feel pain. And have since Halloween when the people he went to the carnival with left because i left. And haven't seen him since. Because they figured out thwt he was purposely keeping them from me, in line for the Haunted House for nearly 2 hours... I was not gonna stay..,

They could got out of line and sat with me at the fire they gave more logs for and rejoined him when he was near the front... It was cold where they were. They could even had taken turns in line.

It wasn't something i could do... I didn't even know they were there until after I left. All i was told was they would be about an hour... Which made no sense cause i thought they said they were already there... So what for an hour?

For the first time in forever it was just me and my kid for Halloween. We could done anything. My kid actually wanted to do the Haunted House... But didnt want to wait in the 36°F line for over an hour.

Its a good thing they left too, i got beat up in the Halloween Haunted House before, too.... Perfect place... Dark.. Scary... All perfect for "accidents" with no real person to take fault... Just accidents...

So really... I'm like part of me wants to tell him i know what he did...

But more i just want him to not exist.

And then another part of me still likes him and wishes he has grown up and realized he could be better than he allows himself to be. Part of me feels sorry for him.

I know he just wants to be loved and safe Just like we all do...

And I could love him as a friend as I had in the past... Knowing hes not been trustworthy in the past makes it easier to protect myself.

I handled him quite pperfectly 11 years ago... Until my ex husband I was married to then, started encou stupid and dangerous and evil entertainment.

I still don't understand the point to drug someone to have sex with them. Like dude. You're saying you're not good enough to be liked with a person sober and woke and living normal.

So that says a lot about a person... That they have no confidence or true love for themselves.

I been for real single in my house for 10 years...having only long distance relationships. I dont feel the need to drug someone to allow them to like me. They either do or they don't.

Im curious as to why they dont but i dont care. Some people just do not get along with others. Its that simple. I don't like plenty of people and to have to explain myself or be pushed around because of it totally pisses me off. I don't like you, simple as that and I'll hate you before I love you.

I see the most problem with criminals is they dont love themselves but usually demand others to while not believing others do... So they beat them.

Its really really sad. Its horrible. How they can't break that barrier to love just themselves. And then turn themselves into unlovable trash that they shouldn't be.

So at the end of the day, if you don't want to be loved. Then i won't love you.

Its the most difficult lesson a person can learn and its the most saddest and heartbreaking. But also the strongest making, most wisdom learning lesson.

And so I can turn off my feelings, my warmth, my caring for someone whom asks me to. Most especially someone whom has or would try to beat it into me.

Life is: Survival of the Fittest, is it not?

If you cannot love yourself, cherish yourself enough to take risks then you cannot survive.

If you cannot believe you are loveable then your actions will cause you to not be loveable.

But yet people like Jesse James and "Tom" don't have a problem with being greedy and asking for more and more and more. Like vampires with empty souls sucking down unicorn blood in the forest like they want to live on a page of a Harry Potter novel.

And so my question is, do i tell him what i know he did to Me? Or does he just want to relish in the delight of what he got away with so that He can devise ways to lie to make me some sort of pawn in his life, someone to use?

Why waste my time?

Friday in about 15 seconds i lost my child support check... While looking for it lost another check for $2.40...Then at the bank moments later literally $5 disappeared from ny hands.

Then the next day i had taken off my shoes in the Wal-Mart wheel chair shopping cart... While wheeling around... Lost my dam shoe.

I didn't even bother to look for it.

And my cat was kidnapped... Then i sent someone to fetch him... "Tom" let him get kidnapped again... Then he got fetched again.... And i have yet to see him... So im like what the fuck? Its been over a week... I tried Thursday night to go ask the neighbors but all the gates were locked...

Then i got this like flue feeling thing where i want to puke all day and all these body aches and I just want to sleep.

And Every thing is pissing me off...

And know why? Cause this curse if u dont acknowledge the dead on Halloween with a fuckking Hello then i get all this bad luck. Happens every time.like excuse me ass holes i deal with you 300 days a year and i can't have one with my kid?!

Its absolutely ridiculous

So id much rather sleep then to decide to care about someone whom has shown they do not care about me.

But is it wrong?

Should I tell him all those hits and attempts at giving me amnesia were temporary and i know exactly who he is and that he's still lying and that I know he was all trying to marry my friend then still get with me?

His dad says that he knew hitting me made me leave so that's why he hit my friend. And his dad says that she wasn't pregnant and that same as at my house it was more all over him than him on her... Unlike when he was with me

And i know i still have a lot of memories that don't fit right that are messed up.

But I know exactly what happened between Sara and Tom according to Sara's words to me. Because that part of my memories have never been affected. Even if i was drinking... Because i didn't drink a lot because i get migraines if i do. Mostly wine coolers or rum and juice...

Plus there was two adult sized male idiots, a seemingly whore type person and then 3 children 2 under the age of 5. So obviously someone who wasn't stumbling and posing a threat to the kids by falling over on themselves had to be present.

I just got drunk enough... So that i really didnt give a shit about all the stupidity I saw in the adults around me. And could say shit like "you know Sara, sometimes you're really dumb. Hes told you like 40 times to get off him and you're still on him So when tomorrow you're all black and blue and he says you tripped going down the stairs and i saw you walk down them just fine, I'm not really gonna care. I mean its not like he told you or anything. 46 times"

But while sober... I would worry why he was so mean to his girlfriend. Why she would always be rejected by him. And why she would allow herself to be treated so horrible. If my friend told me always to get off them, i would feel sad. Sometimes I have had to tell my kid not to touch or lean on me because i have pain... But i try to adjust so that they can... As i have a lot of numb spots next to highly painful areas.

But between Tom and Sara... I felt it was weird,volatile and and dangerous. And they shouldn't be together.

I even asked him once cause Sara would go inside with my ex a lot... Hmmm.. Idc.

"Why don't you like Sara to touch you?" And his face would be red.

And i would say " okay so then when do you like Sara to touch you?" Cause then i would tell her So she could get her affection...

And it was always difficult to get him to talk about himself.. Until for two nights I didn't talk to him and when we we're alone after he kicked me under the table most of the night, all angry in my face why i wouldn't talk to him...

"Oh why because you called me duct tape for 6 months telling me not to talk to you. And then when I did or have tried to "get close to you" as i would a friend, you just sit there all dopey and smile and don't even answer a question i ask you"

You know then sara comes out and says i said he was on dope.

And she denies it...and I'm tired of her being oblivious to every dam thing on the fucking planet. And i straight out accuse them both of being on meth...

And so while trying to faceplant herself on his Dick shes all "we should leave"

So then i throw them out and they both refuse to move. What. The. Fuck.

He claims hes afraid to leave cause she is all dopey on his Dick.... And hes all shes gonna rape m3 and all tries to,hide behind me,touching my body to use me as a shield and tries to jump over the railing of my porch!!! But acts like hes afraid to and asks my permission like 14 times. Dude you're a grown ass man why the fuck are you asking that's dumb. We were on the lower level anyway. Literally 4 steps, including the top.

It always seemed that stupid and annoying.

So i really didn't care when he went to jail, sentenced for 14 months and got out in 9..

Or when on New Year's Eve, i took her and her kids Christmas presents and she hadnt got any of us anything... And I had bought and took her cigarettes and she didn't want to share when i ran out... Or when I said we needed to leave because my kid wanted to go home and she told me that I was being a bad friend because I'm a good mom... Because I was going to leave... Then we went to the bonfire which my kid liked and so Sara said if i wanted to smoke her Winstons... Then i had to go get them and she threw them .... Because she was jealous all her neighbors were talking and laughing with me because i actually do know how to socialize.

And i quit being friends with her that night.

Left .... And every time she text me after i just told her to shut up and fuck my husband....but she didn't know because shes so sef absorbed that 2 months prior I told him i wanted a divorce.

On Thanksgiving.

In front of my uncle....

And so... Still... Should I tell him I think he's a complete ass hole with something to hide or a chicken shit that is making it look like he does.... And allow him to explain himself or not...

Because I a fucking tired of him trying to get into my brain. Hes all hiding. I'm not.

I heard in 4 months he hit me 15 occasions... I used the calculator and it was once every 8 days. I was 16. He was 23.

That enough makes me want to not talk to him. But i also don't want him to be all well that's your fault Sabrina. And blame me all kinds because I gave him a chance. I gave him a 100% chance.

Then when he blew me off more than once,including in DM.. I was all forget you then.... But then when I said i didn't want to fuck him, he lost his Goddam mind. Like dude... So yeah... When were we ever going to anyways when you can't even drive to someone's house? Or set up a date and actually go to it? It was So irrational the way he reacted. What? I'm a cum bucket? Like what he's gonna random run into me at Wal-Mart an pound me from behind in the family bathroom while i hold onto the toilet seat??

Seriously. Hes not rational

So I'm like to tell him what I've been told by th3 dead and what i remember... Its just a waste of effort, isn't it?

Of Princes and Potions - Chapter 3

Finally, I am here. Sorry for the delay in getting this chapter out, I got a little too sucked into shiny hunting for a Mudkip, but it’s here so yay - also, finally introducing some of the conflict!

AU: Royal, Fantasy Pairing: Pining Logince Words: 2038 Warnings: Nothing I can think of, please let me know if there is anything!

Summary: Patton decides to move the talk with Roman to later in the day, rather than tomorrow as he’s seriously concerned.

Roman wiped the sweat from his brow as he lowered his sword and pulled off his helmet. He was breathing heavily, his body aching from the fall he’d just taken. His smile was still present, however, especially as the man in front of him took off his own helmet. “You still best me for now, Sir Virgil, but one day, I will defeat you.”

Virgil shook his head and huffed out a quick laugh, holding out his hand for the prince, “And when that day comes, it’ll be the same day as when I’m put to rest.”

The prince gaped in offense as he used the knight’s hand to pull himself back up to his feet, “How rude of you to say such a thing to me!” Virgil merely shrugged and turned back to his recruits, ignoring Roman’s continued frustration. Roman moved to the side, pouting as he watched the head of the Knights address his subordinates.

However, just as the events had begun, a gentle applause caught everyone’s attention and they all turned their attention to the door towards the castle.

Patton stood just in front, the door held open behind him. He was smiling in a way that made it seem like he was holding back a grin. All the new recruits seemed to tense in the presence of the king, but Virgil simply turned and responded with his own smile.

The king’s attention was mostly upon his son, “Roman, I thought you said your training was going well?” At his son’s exaggerated pout, Patton laughed loudly. “I hope you don’t mind me asking for you to come with me?”

Roman glanced to Virgil, “I believe I am done here. I don’t think I’d like to be humiliated anymore than I already have been.” He sniffed and turned sharply, walking towards his father with his head held high. Behind him, he could hear the knight captain snort in laughter. He went to turn and retort once more, but another laugh from Patton stopped him. Roman, instead, simply tossed an annoyed look back towards the knight before slipping past his father into the castle.

“I’m sorry to steal him from you, Sir Virgil.” Roman heard his father say as he waited just a little behind him.

“It’s no problem, Your Majesty. We were just about to finish anyway.” There was something amused in Virgil’s tone as he responded, which made Roman’s mildly simmering frustration heat up just that little bit more. He felt a part of him wanting to march back outside and challenge the man to another round, but Roman managed to rein it in and appear composed.

While he’d been focused upon himself, Roman had failed to notice that his father and Virgil had finished their conversation and Patton was now waiting for him, until a hand clasped his shoulder. The prince jumped slightly at the sudden touch, “Uh, sorry, father. I was lost in thought for a second.” Roman quickly responded to the slight worry in his father’s gaze.

Patton’s eyes turned fond and a soft smile tugged at his lips, “It’s alright, Roman. Come with me, I have something I wanted to discuss with you.”

The king was well aware he’d told his son to come and speak with him the next day, but the topic was constantly on his mind as he went about his day. Patton knew he’d lose sleep over the issue and decided, in the down time he had between a few of his duties, he’d find his son and talk with him about the birthday ball. He led the way towards his personal study room, which happened to lie just a short walk down the corridor from his own bedroom.

Upon opening the door, Patton allowed Roman to enter first before turning to the servants who had been accompanying him throughout the day so far, “Thank you, please leave us for now.” The two bowed in acknowledgement before heading back the way they’d come.

Patton then turned to his son, who was stood waiting to be told what to do. The king smiled, “I’ll be back in a moment, just sit down, son.” He took the short walk to his room in order to retrieve his beloved dog before returning to the small study. As soon as Patton entered, he laughed.

Roman had taken his word and decided to sit in the chair sat behind the desk, his feet crossed atop the wooden structure in front of him and a pleased smirk crossing his features. It was certainly what Patton had expected from his mischievous son. However, Roman’s plan to remain in that position was quickly foiled by the excitable Marshmallow, who attempted to jump into the prince’s lap causing his legs to fall.

Patton shut the door and stood in front of his son, who was fussing over the fluffy white dog, “Roman, I think that’s my seat.”

“You told me to sit down, you didn’t specify where.” Roman countered, smiling up at his father.

“Roman…” Patton said, a warning tone to his voice though the amused smile took a lot of the danger out of it.

“Alright, alright.” Roman threw his hands in the air and stood, moving to sit in one of the other chairs that stood on the opposing side of the desk. He exaggeratedly slumped into one, almost trying to convince his father that he was truly upset at being ousted from his previous seat.

Patton took up the chair that had just been vacated. He watched his son continue to act out while also petting Marshmallow. He really didn’t want to break his son’s mood or the atmosphere that had been put in place by the amusing actions of Roman, but it had to be done and the sooner, the better. Patton took a deep breath, “Roman,” he easily commanded the prince’s attention with the seriousness of his tone, “I know I said I would talk to you tomorrow, but I believe we need to talk about it now.”

Roman was a little surprised by the sudden shift and sat up straight before addressing his father, “Okay… so, you wanted to talk about the ball, correct?”

The king nodded, clasping his hands in front of him atop the desk, “Yes. I know you are excited about having the ball for your birthday and, as this morning taught me, you have your own vision of the event.”

“Is that a problem?” Roman interjected, almost a little insulted. He leant forward, determination blazing behind his eyes, “Because I just wa-”

Patton held up a hand to silence the prince, looking a little exhausted, “Please, Roman. Let me speak.” He waited until Roman had settled back down before continuing, “I want to give you what you want for the ball, that is not a problem. I will do my best to give you what you want, but you must know something else is at play here, Roman.”

The king stood from the desk and moved to the other side, taking up the second chair that sat there. He reached over to rest a hand atop his son’s, “You’ve been to some of these before, Roman. I know you have. Remember when you came back and told me about all the people who’d been attempting to woo your friend last time you went?”

Roman nodded, “Yes, I remember that clearly. I could barely talk to them the whole evening, so many people were trying.”

“I didn’t want to tell you until I had to, Roman, but that is what happens with a lot of these balls. Prominent, large families send their children to the balls with the intention of trying to get the host’s children to begin a relationship with them.” Patton explained.

The prince beside him quirked an eyebrow, “I know that, dad.”

Patton almost flinched at the surprise answer, pulling his hand back, “What?”

“Yeah, everyone who goes knows about that.” Roman shrugged, speaking as if it were the most common knowledge, “So many of my friends get sent to do the same thing, but they choose not to.”

“Ah, well… I didn’t know that…” Patton awkwardly coughed, “Well, Roman, you must then be aware that it will be something you have to deal with at your ball, right?”

Roman’s eyes suddenly lit up and he tossed his hair slightly, “I am, and I am extremely ready to be the centre of attention, like I should be. All eyes on me, so many of them wanting to talk to me and woo me, I am more than ready for that.”

Patton watched his son with something akin to horror in his eyes, but he tried to laugh it off, though it came out stilted. “Um, son, are you sure you’re okay with this?”

“Of course!” Roman proclaimed, “What’s so wrong with being the centre of attention? I don’t see any problem here, but thank you for the concern, father.”

“But son, you know that not all of the kids sent are going to be like your friends, right?”

“Yes, but I can still deal with it. I’ll be fine!”

Patton and Roman continued to go back and forth for a few minutes, with Patton earnestly trying to get his stubborn son to realise the true weight of the situation. Eventually, the king sighed and held his hands up in defeat, “Alright, Roman, I believe you. You are old enough to know yourself and I trust you to make your own decisions.”

“Finally.” Roman retorted, falling against the back of the chair dramatically.

Patton returned his hand to atop Roman’s, grabbing the prince’s attention once more, “But if you ever feel overwhelmed or need to talk, I am always willing to talk with you, alright?”

Roman nodded before standing with a confident smile, “Of course, father, but that will not be necessary. This will be the greatest ball the kingdom has ever seen, and I will be the most radiant of all!”

The king chuckled, especially as Roman began to coax Marshmallow – who’d been sitting between the two of them since Patton had moved – into some form of dance around the small study room. “Alright, alright, you get on out of here, son. Enjoy your day.”

Roman placed the dog’s front paws back onto the ground before bowing to his father, “I shall. I think I’ll go and practice my swordplay some more. I cannot allow Sir Virgil to best me any longer!” With that, he left Patton alone in his study with Marshmallow.

The king sighed at the closed door, a sad smile on his face. He made his way back to sit behind the desk, his eyes trained on a stack of letters that sat on the bookshelf he passed on his way. Patton felt sick as he stared. The pile was made of, at least, 30 letters, all thick looking and in detailed envelopes. A part of him felt as though he should have shared the content with Roman, but he couldn’t bring himself to crush his son when he was so excited.

Marshmallow placed his head in Patton’s lap, whining softly as he looked up at his owner’s sad eyes. Patton scratched the dog’s ears softly while smiling, “There’s nothing more we can do, Marshy. Roman knows what he wants, and I can’t bear to change that.” With a sigh, he stood and grabbed the pile of letters, “I suppose I should get through these before the pile gets even larger, huh?” The rest of his day was spent opening the letters, waves of nausea rolling through him each time he saw certain phrases and words. The letters were put aside, at the bottom of the lowest drawer so they could be pushed from Patton’s mind.

“Roman will be fine, he’s strong.” Patton muttered under his breath to himself as he stared out the window at the setting sun later in the day. Marshmallow sat quietly next to him, providing simple companionship. “He’s determined to get what he wants anyway, right, buddy?” Patton snorted as unmistakably familiar owl soared past the window and rose towards the highest point of the castle. Marshmallow lightly barked in response, which caused Patton to laugh.

Previous Chapter – Next Chapter

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Sycamore-

A character that I’ve been touching up, for my Illinois FanClans! I really like her, and i’m excited :) feel free to give me your thoughts on her!

Awesome! I’ll give you any suggestions if I have any!

I made her using Paleclaw’s cat generator. Here she is!!

Name: Sycamore- (suffix pending)

Previous Names: Sycamoresprout, Sycamoreseed

Age: 26 moons

Appearance: Sycamore- is a short molly with an average-width face and muzzle and is fairly muscular. Her fur is short, yet thick; enough to protect her when it’s cold but not thick enough that she will risk overheating in the warmer moons. Her eyes are a dull copper and are close set in shape. Sycamore- is a blue-and-cream calico, with tuxedo markings.

Personality: Sycamore- is more quiet than the rest of her family; however, that doesn’t make her meek. She has inherited her mother’s cleverness and deduction, though she is a bit more quiet about it; she’s thoughtful, preferring to study things first and then making a decision based on the information she’s collected; she pays attention to the greater details. Sycamore hungers for knowledge and always wants to know more; that being said, Sycamore- is not ambitious in the way one might think; she has no desire to be leader or deputy, and simply wants to serve her Clan as best she can; to her, this requires learning much of the world and territory around her, as well as about the other Clans. As a kitten, she would often ask a lot of questions, and once she got her answer, she would simply think about it in solitude, wondering why things were the way they were. She’s good in social situations, being polite and thoughtful, always one to consider her next move or the word she’s about to say. In a way, she can be a bit manipulative at times, using her lack of intimidation to get things others might not. She’s considered to be good looking and as a result, she’s collected a lot of admirers now that she’s a warrior - much to her chagrin. She likes to watch birds and is quite good at hunting them. While she loves her family, sometimes she feels overshadowed by their great deeds and desperately wants to prove her worth in the Clan. She likes to sleep in the sun, and loves listening to stories about the past. Her greatest fear is drowning; she often has nightmares about this.

I really love Sycamore’s personality. She’s quiet but not to the point of being terrible in social situations which is what people usually put together. I appreciate that others in her clan still like her and she has her own admirers, but she isnt arrogant or ambitious. Overall she seems quite developed, with a few fun little quirks, not shallow or a caricature.

Clan: MarshClan

Rank: Warrior

Family:

-Mother, Foxstep. Foxstep is a blue-and-cream mackerel torbie molly with dark hazel eyes, short fur and white feet. Like her namesake, she was cunning, sneaky, and light-footed. She was known for getting into mischief as a kit and had a lot of energy, which often saw her in trouble. She was quite clever, and great at deduction, proving herself to be adaptable and pragmatic, as well as a good hunter. Now that she’s older, she’s calmed down somewhat, energy-wise, but she still enjoys a good harmless prank now and again and serves as her daughter’s biggest supporter. Silverstream left a moon after Sycamore- was born, and Foxstep plans to give him a good smack across the nose if he ever shows his face around her again. She enjoys telling small lies for fun, and she and Tawnyflower often get into fun little debates over certain topics. She qualified for the -tail suffix, but requested -step instead.

I love this description! She perfectly fits the -step suffix!

-Biological Father, Silverstream. Silverstream was a handsome silver classic tabby tom with white feet, long fur and hazel eyes. He joined MarshClan after several meetings with Foxstep. He proved himself to be quite the swimmer, and brought back many fish to MarshClan, along with being a good hunter - he and Foxstep often teamed up and during a particularly harsh winter, the two of them brought back decent amounts of prey which was invaluable to MarshClan. Silverstream was a kind tom, who cared for his mate, yet he could sometimes come off as distant. It took him awhile to adapt to Clan life, and during one foggy morning (after Foxstep told him she was pregnant with his kits), he set off into the marshes and has yet to be seen again. No one knows where he went though some theorize he returned to his loner roots.

Curious about his history, it honestly sounds like he met his untimely end somewhere past the territory. From his description it doesnt sound like he would abandon his family. Sad :(

-Cousin, Lightningclaw. Lightningclaw is a semi-foreign epistatic white cat with long, sleek fur, orange eyes and a fluffy tail. Lightningclaw is a very proud cat, and can come off as a bit vain. Being a -claw, they are brilliant at fighting and have trained several apprentices in battle training. They are good on the battlefield, not so much when it comes to social relations. Lightningclaw is actually good at listening to others plights, and will sit with a Clanmate and listen to their struggles. Even if they doesn’t have the right words to comfort, just having someone to listen to is enough, for some cats. Lightningclaw has several idols in the Clan, one of which is Foxstep. They admire her wit, her cunning, her dedication… The two grew up together, with Foxstep being a moon or so older than Lightningclaw. She quickly roped them into her friend group and made them feel wanted; after Foxstep saved Lightningclaw from a surprise attack during a raid on the Snakerocks, the crush they had been nursing privately on her grew, and they confessed. Foxstep gently turned them down, and they remained good friends with each other. When Silverstream left Foxstep and a then kit Sycamore-, Lightningclaw stepped up and offered to become a parental figure for the molly. Foxstep agreed and the two worked together to raise Sycamore-. Lightningclaw is more of a cousin than a parent, which they both enjoy.

Aww this is super cute, Lightningclaw seems nice. Its good to see other cats taking a role in raising a kit, especially considering that in canon not even the dads do anything. Its always nice to see multiple cats taking an interest in raising the kits of the clan.

-Aunt, Tawnyflower. Tawnyflower is a large, sleek and muscular amber classic tabby tortoiseshell molly with deep green eyes, long fur and a few scars. Younger sister of Foxstep, she was born a few moons after Sycamore- and the two grew up in the nursery together, and became very close. Aside from Foxstep, Tawnyflower is Sycamore-’s closest confident, and the two can often be seen sharing tongues and going out on patrols together. Tawnyflower is a very gregarious molly, and loves being surrounded by friends and family - she believes that everyone should have a good support system, and if they do not have one, Tawnyflower will gladly take them into her family. She adores kits too and is particularly brilliant at looking at them, giving the queens a welcome respite from being tumbled over and ear-pulling of rambunctious kits. Cannot lie to save her life, she prefers to tell the honest truth, and loves exploring every nook and cranny of camp, as well as outside. Lately, she’s been spending more time with another molly named Yarrowfur, an epistatic white molly with odd eyes.

Lovely, I am a fan of ambers and lesbian babs.

-Grandfather, Brokentail, formerly Stormclaw. Brokentail is a dark blue classic tabby cat with a white belly, long fur and amber eyes. Previously holding the title of Deputy, they soon stepped down after Foxstep had Sycamore-, wanting to spend the rest of their time with slowly expanding family. In their prime, they were a well-respected warrior, leading their Clan into several battles and at one point, rose to the rank of battle tactician. They were known for being calm in battle, yet ruthless and their attention to detail in battle led their clan to many victories. Now, older and wiser, Brokentail is a highly sought out storyteller, and is calm, yet still holds a stubborn streak. Brokentail (then Stormclaw) has never been great at running, as just a few miles can make them have trouble breathing. During the spring, their allergies flare up and sneezes can be heard from the elder’s den, much to their embarrassment. Stormclaw’s tail was crushed in an accident and after much deliberation, they took the name Brokentail. They wear their new name with pride, and are often sought after for advice from Clanmates. Their mate is Ryeheart.

Yesss reclaiming and re purposing a misused name from canon. I love this, he sounds like a good old man.

-Grandfather, Ryeheart. Ryeheart is a large tom with long fur and hazel eyes. His fur is a warm golden-brown, and he is one of the rare cats in the clan that bears the Amber gene, thanks to some house pet ancestry in his bloodline. Ryeheart is brave and headstrong, and doesn’t back down from a challenge, which would explain the numerous scars that criss-cross his face and ears. He wears them with pride and will gladly give a story about how he earned them to the apprentices and kits that visit - though, some of the older cats have noticed that everytime he tells a story of how he received a scar, it changes every time, getting wilder and more questionable. Regardless, he loves telling stories almost as much as his mate, and the two will often compete to see who can tell a story best. He adores his daughters and still now will brag about their accomplishment to the other elders at Gathering time. He wishes the best for his granddaughter, and while he may not offer the steadfast advice of Brokentail, he does care in his own way and will say so in his own way. (so he’d p much be warrior male “train and fight!! Solve your problems head on!!”)

Sycamore has a lovely supportive family! Its a pity she feels pressured to live up to their legacy.

Extra:

-Sycamore-’s suffix is pending. I’m not sure what to make it, i’m working on it.

-She’s very close with her family, but at times, feels pressure to live up to (what she considers to be) great expectations.

-Is attracted to darker pelts. Lighter pelts hold no value to her.

-Originally, she started out as an AU re-working of Silverstream of RiverClan, but in the short time i’ve spent with her, she’s moving away from that and i’m excited to see where she goes.

I like these fun little quirks, and I love the idea of taking a canon character who’s story you werent happy with and reworking it, but its even better when that turns into your own story.

-I plan for her to be in a inter-clan relationship; she meets a ForestClan warrior (who’s a blue smoke polydactly tom; haven’t named them yet, but I’m leaning towards Cranestorm or Birchstorm) and at first, is cautious and a bit shy, but after they spend some time together, she starts to open up and they become friends. At first, she’s worried about being caught, but finds that she likes breaking the rules and wants to lead her own path, separate from her family and so goes along with it eagerly as time progresses. She and her mate end up being discovered by the seer of ForestClan who tells them this is a bad idea. They both ignore him, and eventually, they have kittens. Both Clans assume that the blue smoke warrior and her just simply had a mating for new blood only, but are surprised when he wants to move to MarshClan. He does, and the two become betrothed to each other (something else I’m trying out for this. If two cats of different clans have kits, one can move to the other’s clan, and then they become betrothed; in the past, this was used as a way to somewhat control inter-clan relationships if they were truly serious, but it’s since died down when the story starts.)

This seems like a very mature way to handle an interclan relationship. There is some drama and secrecy, but in the end, they make the decision to be together and it doesnt sound like it ends in tragedy. Im very tired of interclan romances that end in tragedy or go on forever instead of just making a solid decision, so this is a breath of fresh air.

-Sycamore- is a very picky eater. She also collects bones and has a little collection of them she’s built up over the moons.

- Her mentor was Crowcloud, a black tom with lemon yellow eyes and a torn ear. He was patient and became like a second father to Sycamore-; the two are still close even now, and often go hunting together.

I dont know why, but Crowcloud has a lovely ring to it.

Anyway! Thank you for the submission! She is a lovely character!

AU of Empty hearse scene that still pisses me off wtf was that Sherlock just really kiss her

For @katiebuttercup and @mollyappreciationweek

(on ao3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/15913782)

“Moriarty slipped up. He made a mistake. Because the one person he thought didn’t matter at all to me was the one person that mattered the most. You made it all possible,” Sherlock says sincerely but then draws in a breath, nearing a sigh.

Thank you for indulging me my small fancy today, he thinks.

“But you can’t do this again, can you?” he earnestly asks. He knows her answer. Her sense of loyalty and he thinks, finally, love for another is clear.

Molly smiles, “I had a lovely day. I’d love to – I just ... um …” Her voice catches in her throat and she looks down to her left hand.

He follows her eyes to the ring, small and simple. He would have done something larger, he thinks but then shoves that thought back.

“Oh, congratulations, by the way,” he attempts and accomplishes in a near happy tone.

“He’s not from work,” she slips out

He smiles warmly and ignores the tightening in his chest.

“We met through friends, the old-fashioned way. He’s nice. We ... he’s got a dog ... we-we go to the pub on weekends and he ... I’ve met his mum and dad and his friends and all his family. I’ve no idea why I’m telling you this,” she rambles.

He turns a deaf ear to the tiny hitch in her throat. You have taken enough and she needs you to let her go and be happy, without any guilt, just be happy, he commands himself.  

He locks his eyes with hers. He sees her shrinking in instinctual defense.

“I hope you’ll be very happy, Molly Hooper. You deserve it. After all, not all the men you fall for can turn out to be sociopaths,” he declares.

“No?” she asks.

“No,” he says, as his chest tightens again. This is a goodbye, she needs to let me go, she needs someone who is worthy of her love, you don’t do love, remember, he reminds himself.

Sherlock spies his target, her right cheek is where he will kiss her. He’s kissed it before. It was an apology then. Perhaps it is again. It's what friends do, and an approval of her letting go.

He leans down, there is his target, and he risks closing his eyes as he nears her face.

Something makes his brain go blank. Wait, what happened, he wonders.

His closed eyes were his undoing and lead him to a more unconscious target. His lips do not feel her blushed cheek, but those lips he thought thin, oh no that bottom one is far from it, soft and warm against his.

His mind flashes with panic. Neither moves a muscle, exchanging breaths for what seems like forever. But Molly relaxes, and he feels her lips shift and caresses his. Every nerve ending fires and his better sense is unrecoverable.

Why is she responding, didn’t she just tell me about her fiance oh my god she is trying to part my lips, he thinks.

He almost backs away, but can’t seem to stop himself. Instead, he moves his lips to match hers, letting them part to deepen the kiss, his hand finding her hip. He follows her to the wall as she backs against it, pulling him lightly by the scarf.

One of part of his mind is screaming at him to stop this. The other part doesn’t give a damn, it feels better than anything he’s felt in a long time.

Her tongue teases his lip and he matches it. It's all so achingly slow, and he savors the moment. Her fingers slide up his chest and wrap around his back, pulling him in tight against her.

It feels desperate and he knows now he must stop it. But he is afraid. Afraid of what she will say after they part.

That was wonderful Sherlock, but you are right I must move on, he thinks is the most likely phrase.

He breaks the kiss, moving away by millimeters unable to will himself to end it quickly. He puts his forehead and nose against hers to not lose that connection of skin he now shockingly craves.

“So your place or mine?’ she says breathlessly.

“Molly...I am not sure what” he starts.

“I’ll just need to drop off a ring real quick,” she blurts out.

“Molly...”

She is crying, the tip of his nose now wet as her body shudders under his hands.

“Damn you, Sherlock,” she quivers.

“I am sorry, Molly,” he whispers. “I cannot let you...I cannot let you...”Why won’t words come out, he screams in his head.

“Cannot let me what?” she grits through her teeth, anger hiding and threatening to burst forth.

“Marry Tom” he divulges in a desperate voice.

She laughs, a painful sarcastic one, “So you kiss me to make sure he won’t want to?”

“Yes” is all he can manage with a sigh.  

“Oh, you are a bastard.” She is getting angry now but somehow still staying close to him like they cannot find themselves able to part.

“I wasn’t going to kiss your lips, I was aiming for your cheek and I miscalculated as I shut my eyes. But I am grateful I was bad at the geometry,” he says, the side of his lips curling.

She raises an eyebrow and shifts to indicate she wants to look at his face, and he obliges.

“I’m sorry, what?” She looks him in the eyes with uncertainty.

Sherlock holds her gaze, hoping his words are correct. “Molly, quite simply I made a happy mistake,” he smiles warmly as he places a timid hand on her face, wiping a tear from her cheek with his thumb.

Her face tightens at his touch, but he keeps his hand there on her cheek. That cheek he was supposed to kiss.

“What are you saying? Because I need you to, as best you can be honest here because if...if what you are asking...what you are asking is something I cannot take back,” she starts and stops herself as she fights back tears.

Sherlock swallows hard, conscious of the weight of their next decision and his next words.“I know. Molly, I do not ask it heedlessly, I...I” he begins his voice not as confident as he wants and he stops himself and shuts his eyes again. He breathes in deeply and out, letting both hands rest on her hips.

“Dinner...let’s start there, and we’ll come up with what you can tell Tom to let him down easy,” he says finally, opening his eyes cautiously.He catches her eyes again, wet but not angry, and he waits.

She sighs, rubbing his back with her fingers. “I should tell you to sod off,” she smirks.

He bites his lip, and then curls it, “You should have a long time ago, but I am afraid it's much too late for that now. My lips have found yours, and I wish for them to always be mine to possess. We must go forward with that knowledge.”

Finally, he sees her face lighten and her eyes glitter not just from tears. His chest tightens again but oh how delightful that ache is now, he thinks.

“Then dinner it is,” she grins, slipping her hands down from his back, then up to his neck as she pulls him down for one more quick kiss. He wishes they could linger there,  but they have much to discuss. More kisses will come later.

He steps back, running his hand along her scarf and wraps it for her. He grabs her hand and intertwined their fingers as he pulls her out the door with him. She shifts her bag, and he pauses on the sidewalk as she stands beside him.

“Italian? I know just the place,” he asks, looking to his left and back to her.

She leans into his arm, beaming, “ Sounds perfect.”

With that they turn and walk together hand in hand, chatting about the evening ahead.

Why I Want to Join the Air Force

18 December 2018

Currently, it’s the day after I had just met with my recruiter. Through various decision changes, whether, community college then transferring to a 4 year, going straight to a 4 year, or even doing ROTC (Reserved Officers’ Training Corps), I kept finding myself back to wanting to join the Air Force. The only thing holding me back was fear. Fear that I’m going to be confined, not be able to see my family, friends, loved ones, that I’m going to be miserable and lose time in my life I’m not going to be getting back. That’s definitely not it, if anything, it’s opposite. The military isn’t a place to confine someone and become property of the government, but a place to provide opportunities and benefits for those who will put their time down for the service of others. Paid education, vacation days, medical fes, housing, food, and housing are BENEFITS. Benefit is defined as an advantage or profit gained from something. With working and serving other to be able to receive those benefits, is such an amazing opportunity. All it takes is a mindset. Rather thinking, “Oh man, I got three more years of this” it should be changed to “How can I make each day better for myself before my contract is finished?” My mission statement for life is to bring an impact to the world around me, doing service for the world in many ways, and to be the most interesting person someone could meet. I want to make the next four years of being in the Air Force an adventure; an unforgettable journey filled with new knowledge and experiences. My dad kept telling me to do ordinary things, in an extraordinary way. To do my best, in whatever I do, instead of always doing minimal effort. I want to remember this letter to myself when I’m struggling in boot camp. If I question what am I even doing there, I need to remember I’m joining for my family, friends, the country, the world, and for myself. I’m joining to gain experience not many have the perspective of. I’m joining to push my comfort zone, to exceed my confidence in what I do. I’m joining to serve others, that I came into this world not to live just for myself, but to share as much of myself as I can, whether it be happiness, kindness, love, experience, or help. Life isn’t about being selfish, but to be selfless. The world is a working machine where every single person has a purpose, despite how small, the world cannot work without everybody. If I only did things for myself and only myself, it’s not for the world anymore, it’s not benefiting anybody, and it’s not what I believe living is about. We’re not trying to survive in this world, we are living. To help and serve others in life rather just yourself, is something money can never buy. I want to join because everybody matters and to be selfless is better than selfish because if we were only to work for ourselves, the world would be a broken machine of obstinate people and undiscovered experiences and skills because there would be no sharing. True service to others is not doing it for the sake of benefits or to receive something in return. True service is helping others without expecting gain or reward, a true leader. To look life in a positive way, to live with optimism, is how I believe someone achieves true happiness. With having all of these aspects combined into oneself, one is invincible and is considered one of the strongest people in the world. To be a person full of hatred, negativity, and selfishness, is a person who is afraid, a coward. Someone who likes to stay in the circle of their comfort zone because they fear change and a better way of living life. To keep living with the mindset that nothing is going to get better, that everything is the way it is just because it is, is so close-minded. I want to join because I want to get out of my comfort zone, to become stronger, I want to experience what the world has to offer, and to be an example to others that all it takes is to face your fears and that it takes sacrifices. Life isn’t about living behind closed doors. Open them up to see what the world is showing you and the opportunities it’s giving you. The one person who can close the door, is the same one who can open it.

Strength

For those of you who have the chance to see my physio consults through Gráinne’s Diastasis Revolution course, or come to see them through Antony’s Diastasis Project, you’ll see I’m as honest in those consults as I am in these blogs. Regardless of those being made public or not, I think it’s so important to be honest - how else can my physios help if I’m not honest about what’s happening or how am I feeling? They aren’t just physios. They have never been just physios to me and never will be. They have been way more since day 1. Counsellors who have provided unwavering and limitless support and guidance, among other things. They have empowered me with knowledge from the start, and the freedom to think and feel. I feel I can be completely open and honest and more importantly, vulnerable with all three of them - something which I’m probably not comfortable with normally. We may have a good laugh a lot of the time (which is more than needed), but it is the ability to confide in them when others don’t understand that I am grateful for the most.

Our latest consult as a team shocked me. I was doing exercises I didn’t anticipate doing again until after pregnancy. Most of it I surprised myself with my ability despite being pregnant, but I do feel the need to err on the side of caution. Hard to believe I’m sure if you have the impression I’m a bit cavalier, but nothing could be further from the truth. I’m confident - there’s a difference. During that consult I had to be honest about something that had niggled me for a while. There was a suspicion I was on the verge of overtraining from previous months, which I totally respected and understood. I was doing a lot of exercises at high intensity four days a week. I was told that three days would probably be fine allowing me plenty of time to recover. I felt reluctant to agree because it didn’t feel like I was overtraining but the concern was I was close to, not that I was. I brought up the fact that I knew where they were coming from and freely admitted I can definitely train smarter next time round. The thing that happened this time (reluctant to say ‘problem’ as it wasn’t a problem as such) was that I was completely and utterly addicted to the progress, the changes, the high of achieving and succeeding where I never thought I could. I could physically see the progress and feel it and I couldn’t get enough. This was unspoken but my physios knew it and I knew it. I didn’t burn out and was constantly motivated and determined - probably why it was considered I was close to overtraining but they agreed I wasn’t.

I never wanted it to come across as disrespect or even disagreement which is why it was so important for me to clarify it with them. That, and my face told a story that I was pretty much stubborn in the face of that conversation. I don’t wear my heart on my sleeve, but there are times when I cannot hide what I’m thinking by the expression on my face. The thing is, I don’t want anyone finding me difficult to deal with ‘how do we approach this with Claire?’ ‘How do we tell her to do X or to stop doing doing X?’ I want to make everyone’s life as easy possible. I might not want exercises to be easy, but I want the process to be easy, especially for my physios. I could not hold them in any higher regard if I tried. They are way up high on a pedestal and there is nothing they could do that could knock them off. They’ll be mortified at that I know, but it’s true.

I can never fail to underestimate how incredible my physios are. You would think that I would know the extent of it by now, but they continue to show more and more other sides which make them even more so. Antony said it didn’t bother him but he noticed the change in my expression 😂🙈 but that I wasn’t a troublemaker. It was in fact the opposite. That they had told me there was an electric fence and not to touch it, so what I had done was push to see how close I could get without touching it.

That made me laugh and also shocked me in equal measure. I’m not really a boundary pusher in any other aspects of my life, but here I was coming across as almost a cheeky toddler (a bit like my son) in seeing how far I could push it before I went too far. I said that made me sound like a rebel to which Antony said ‘I wish you would rebel and say screw it!’ 😂 I’ve been told that a few times in my life - I think people will me to put a foot wrong, to do something a bit daring, to misbehave. I have no idea why...

I’ve never been described as a rebel. I’m the opposite. I follow the rules and probably more of a goody two-shoes if I’m completely honest. I never got in trouble at school and was always described as a ‘model pupil.’ If someone told me not to do something I wouldn’t. Usually if I had the freedom to choose I would err on the side of caution, no exceptions. Climb a tree and swing off a branch? You could break your neck doing that don’t be silly 😂 Since I was about 18 months old I’ve been likened to a bit of a granny. I would say things that would make people comment, ‘she’s been here before,’ and I’ve always been mature for my age. That probably makes me sound like a really boring person. Hopefully people who know me, or have gotten to know me through this process don’t think that, but you never know!

I’ve been thinking about that since and why it should be that my diastasis was the thing that turned me into someone who pushes boundaries and flirts with going too far. I think it’s because the boundaries weren’t working for me. I was disciplined and followed the exact guidance in those early days to a T as always, and they were important at that time initially, but then they failed me. When things started to progress and the boundaries started to move, I kept pushing knowing that I would soon catch up and they would have to move again to work for me. Admittedly losing all limitations turned out to be more difficult than I thought, but that freedom came from me pushing hard all the way until there were no more boundaries to push. I earned it. I guess there’s also the fact that I had absolutely nothing to lose, and everything to gain by going at this hell for leather and I knew it was within my control. I have the best team in the world, but I’m the one who has to do the work for this to succeed. It’s on my shoulders to put it all into practice.

This process has really brought out sides to me that I never knew existed. I always knew I was strong - mentally at least. You don’t go through something like I did as a teenager without it. The loss of a parent is earth shattering at any age, but when you’re meant to hit puberty and lash out for all of the World’s ‘unfairness’ and instead you experience real unfairness in its raw and unforgiving vice, you skip it and instantly become an adult. My determination was set the day I was told I would never see my dad again. I turned to my mum and told her I would achieve top grades in my big exams the following year. Who even cares about things like that at a time when your world has just ended? It’s hard to describe, but I knew it was my way to show I wasn’t going to break and I wasn’t going to turn to drink or drugs to solve problems I should never have had to deal with. My choice was to excel because I knew that’s what my dad would have wanted. That ability to know what my parents had brought me up to be undoubtedly saved me.

The physical strength has shocked me. What my body and in fact any body goes through in pregnancy is life-changing. It’s fair to say some people have an easier ride than others, that’s just life. My pregnancy may have been, but my recovery was anything but. I think it may have been lost why I even started this blog. My diastasis has been the biggest thing that happened, but it wasn’t the first or even second, and in the immediate aftermath, wasn’t even my biggest problem at that point. I started this blog after what I can only describe as going through physical hell. Labour was a walk in the park in comparison to what happened after. Breastfeeding is meant to be ‘natural’ but there was nothing natural about my experience with it. I fully admire and I’m in awe of anyone who succeeds at doing it for any length of time. I failed spectacularly and I have no doubt I suffered trauma as a result of what happened within just one week of doing it. When you have visited a breast clinic three times in the first two weeks, and you have breastfeeding support workers tell you they don’t blame you for giving up two weeks in, you know you have been through hell.

Since I was diagnosed with my diastasis, it became my sole focus. Other shit was still going on, but not to the same level as the first two weeks. Inevitably it has been the focus of my blogs. To be honest, that has just happened naturally. It isn’t spoken about nearly enough and as I’ve said, this has brought out sides to me that I never knew existed. My physios have mentioned things that genuinely have surprised me. I’ve been considered laid back (my husband would certainly not agree!) and a boundary pusher. For me: a (slightly) rebellious side; an obsessive side; a bold side and a physically strong side, are all things I have discovered about myself. This journey has allowed me to speak my mind more freely than anything else I have ever experienced. Much of that is down to my physios and the freedom they have given me to do that is something I value more than anything.

One of the biggest things I have learned about myself is a relentlessness beyond any determination I have ever known to have. Somewhere there is the reason why I never grieved properly for what I had lost, and why I never gave in to my feelings. Maybe it’s because I’ve had enough grief in my life in a different form. Maybe I didn’t know if I could come back if I did. Whatever the reason; whatever I have learned about myself during all of this, this has made me a stronger person than I ever thought possible. There are no regrets. I have no doubt that that will stand me in good stead as I head further down this road. There are going to be so many more bumps along the way, but equally there will be more boundaries for me to push and who knows, maybe even a chance to rebel after all...😉

Saviour AU - Part 20

He wasn’t rich like the others, he didn’t really fit, but he was part of the group, the rich boys that had investments in one of the biggest companies in the country, they were powerful and handsome and they could get anything the wanted, money had corrupted their every day actions, money that Byun Baekhyun didn’t have, to what extent was he like them?

You were lucky enough to be delivering the coffee every morning, you just wanted to see him, and to see him meant seeing the others too… You had faith that he was different… just don’t trust him too much he might surprise you, and not in a good way.

Business AU/Angst/Smut

Baekhyun x Reader ft. Chanyeol, Chen, Kai & Lay (Mentions of EXO OT12)

Warning: mentions of child labour.

A/N: No there is no plot twist where Baekhyun falls in love with Suho. Come on... However Suho is mentioned through out the chapter as he plays a big role in the happenings here.

Masterlist

Saviour Masterpost

< Part 19 - Part 21 >

“Where is Baekhyun!?”

“He’s gone ___. I am sorry”

You walked right and left like a headless chicken trying to look for him ignoring the fact that Chanyeol was in the room and not Baekhyun.

“___, what are you doing?”

“He must be here. He said he will have breakfast with me. He promised.”

You sounded completely incoherent, almost crazy. Worrying to say the least.

“___! ___, stop. Stop!” Chanyeol reached for you and hugged you “why haven’t you told him?”

“I didn’t have time. He said not to talk about the baby. Your baby. He wanted us to be alone for the night without responsibilities. Why is he like this? Why did he lie to me again?”

“We will find him.”

“Let me call him.”

“His phone is out of service. But I promise you we will find him. He loves you ___, and he loves the baby. Even knowing he’s mine. Imagine when he knows it’s his.”

“Chanyeol I am tired. I am so tired.”

“He’ll be back.”

*****

4 Months later

He was never back.

He vanished and there was no track of him. You did try to find him and Chanyeol tried, Kai and even Lay... but nothing.

You had to move on for the sake of your baby. Your sanity needed to be in one piece.

You stopped working at the corporation altogether and just spent your days eating and talking to you now ‘ready to pop any minute’ belly. You moved back to you own apartment even though Chanyeol insisted in having you close. That didn’t stop him from coming to visit you every day. At some point you’d have to kick him out because he always wanted to stay the night. 

Kai also visited regularly. He went baby shopping with you and even assembled the baby blue baby’s cot for your now confirmed baby boy to arrive.

Chen had settled down with Eunbyeol, even got engaged after her divorce was finalised, and he was back working at the corporation. 

Xiumin and Saehyo had got married and she took her role as the CEO’s wife quite well.

And you were just getting fat and ugly as you kept claiming.

You had to get used to your new life. Baekhyun was never going to come back, that was a fact that you accustomed yourself to. You didn’t stop loving him but your heart stopped aching as much, because simply you will need to give all your love to your baby from now on. 

Your new life away from Baekhyun. A love you could give to someone that really needed it, someone that will be part of your new life.

A life Baekhyun will never be sharing with you or your son.

****

“What does this mean Junmyeon?”

“We cannot just use Baekhyun’s shares Yifan. I can’t do anything.”

“Well you will have to, otherwise I will not hesitate to close off my business with EXO Korea.”

“Kris! Bro. Listen, don’t- let’s think about this one through alright?”

“Suho don’t baby me. I hate it when you just talk to me like a wife. I don’t need your shit right now. Find me Byun Baekhyun. I can’t fucking believe we agreed to giving him fucking shares. I am so mad right now Suho.”

“You know why Kris. He is like king Midas. How much money we made with him? It was only fair. Still he was paid like an employee. For fucks sake if it wasn’t for Baekhyun would you be able to afford your private jet?”

“The jet I need to sell to payoff the debt we have with SHINee? Jinki is on my back- Fuck this shit Suho! Where the fuck is he?”

Suho fell silent exhaling as he pinched the bridge of his nose. EXO was doomed, in debt. They just realised how much they relied on Baekhyun.

Byun Baekhyun the only one who could save EXO from the crisis they were facing.

“I don’t know Kris.”

“Has he not touched his bank account? Chanyeol! Didn’t he freeze his money before?”

“He did, but it was stupid so he unfroze it.”

“And? Hasn’t he withdrawn any money all this time?”

“Kris, we have gone through all this before, and I told you he hasn’t. We can’t track him.”

“What about that woman? The coffee girl. The fucking bitch that almost costed us a millionaire compensation to Chen. For your fucking arrogance I must add.”

“Great, rub it on my face Wu Yifan.”

“Fucking answer me! Where the fuck is she? Wasn’t she knocked up? Isn’t the baby his?”

“It is.”

“And he is that much of a dick to knock a woman pregnant and not be the least concerned?”

“I told you, he doesn’t know it’s his baby.”

“How fucking stupid is that? Unless they really had a threesome with Chanyeol then he can’t put 2 and 2 together.”

“You know sometimes you can really be nasty Kris.”

“Not as nasty as how I will be when I tell you what we are going to do.”

Junmyeon put the phone down falling on his leather office chair. He wanted to pull his hair out of frustration. His father never taught him how deal with situations like this, because simply he never had to. He just realised how dependant they were of Baekhyun, and how money alone didn’t build an empire.

“Come in” he mused.

“Good morning Junmyeon-ssi.”

“Iseul! Lock the door and come give me a massage.”

“But I need to finish a lot of stuff, today is the end of the period and there are a lot of irregularities. I don’t have ti-”

“Fucking-lock-the-door-and-come-here!” he demanded his eyebrows knitting.

She adjusted her glasses walking towards him placing the files on his desk.

“You’ve been avoiding me lately Iseul. Can I know why?”

“N-no I haven’t. As I said it’s the end of period, you know how busy it gets.”

“Ah~~~ yes. right there” moaned Suho as her wonder fingers worked on his tensed shoulder muscles “I’ve missed you.”

“You are not capable of missing anyone Kim Junmyeon-ssi, let’s be realistic here.”

“Why do you say that?”

“You were busy with a lot of women while I was not around. You can’t miss me having at least one lady per night. Do you not have anyone for today? Is that it?”

Suho stood making Iseul gasp as she took 2 steps backwards. He looked so attractive when wrinkles formed in his forehead like this.

“What is all this confidence talk I am hearing? Have you forgotten who I am?”

She shook her head.

His face softening before reaching for her neck, his thumb smudging her lipstick making her flinch at the sudden action.

“What is it Iseul-ah? Are you perhaps jealous?”

“Me? Why would I be? You owe me nothing. I should be actually thankful that you even remember my name after you’ve fucked me.”

Suho sighed “Iseul. You know it’s not like that.”

“I need to go Kim Junmyeon-ssi.”

“I need you these days. Come stay with me for a while.” He reached for her hair but she again avoided him.

“I also need me. I can’t.”

“Why can’t you? Are you back with that loser?”

“I wish I was. He won’t take me back. I cheated on him, remember?”

“You are better off without him.”

“I think otherwise.”

“Iseul. What’s with you?”

Now that his voice came mild enough to regain her confidence she took the files and left the office without answering that last question.

And really all he needed is some praising, and he needed it from Iseul. A good decent woman he swayed into his bad ways. It was the most real thing he’s ever had. And he needed her near him while he thought of how to get out of this mess.

*****

You loved a calm warm bath before going to bed, you loved feeling the baby kick especially when your hands rested on your belly underwater. You smiled to yourself thinking who he’d look like. Would he have his father’s hands and beautiful fingers? His lips? His puppy eye smile? His delicate collarbones? 

The feeling of wanting to imagine how he’d look like. It was the need to meet the real man of your life. Your son. More than Baekhyun himself. 

You stopped feeling bitter towards him and instead were blessed to have experienced the brief encounters you had.

Would you ever see him again? Not seeing you maybe was easy for him. But never meeting his best friend? Could he really never see Chanyeol in his life again?

What if one day you met? What if he saw his son? Would he recognise him? Would he be mad at you for not telling him? For having him without his knowledge? Would he have feeling towards you still?

The baby kicked hard waking you from your thoughts. He’d always be awake and move the most when you’d be relaxed, because when you moved and walked the baby would sleep from the rocking. And now it seemed to be wide awake noticing that your tears were falling.

“Baby... what are you doing there? You seem playful like your dad. I can’t wait to meet you. I hope I can be a good mom and I am sorry for not being able to make your dad part of your life. But I will talk to you about him and uncle Chanyeol will be around. You will love him I am sure, as much as he already loves you. Also uncle Jongin. You have so many good nice uncles. So lucky my baby.”

You kept mumbling and talking to your huge belly smiling to yourself. You were anxious, and the baby was anxious too because he didn’t stop kicking.

“Boy! Boy are we happy today? Are you hungry? I know I am hungry... well I am always hungry but let’s get some nice dinner. Uncle Chanyeol got loads of food.”

This was the hardest part of bath time. Getting up.

“Baby! Stop kicking... shhhh. I am tryi- oh... oh oh. What! Are you comi- now?”

You wore your bathrobe noticing that a warm liquid going down your thighs.

“You are coming now... ouch!”

You run to your room and took your phone and out of habit you dialled Baekhyun’s number that was out of service for months now. Even reading his name in the screen made you feel at ease. Waiting for a tone to come made you feel alive.

But again. Nothing.

So calling the one that was always there for you only made sense.

“___!”

“Chanyeol. I am having this baby. Now!”

“What? See I told you to move in with me! Sit down and wait for me I am coming!”

“I will call an ambulance?”

“I will! Now just sit down please!”

“And Kai?”

“___! Sit down!”

You ignored Chanyeol. You had to change and prepare your things. You brushed your hair and tied it in a high bun. You dried yourself ignoring that your waters did break and there was no coming back from that. 

You had to sit down. This was it. You were having Byun Baekhyun’s baby tonight.

“Baekhyun?” you desperately called “come back Baekhyun?”

After about 4 minutes the ambulance arrived. They had called you and you gave them the passcode to your apartment. The paramedics confirming that you were in labour and this baby was on his way.

“Where is the father? Any family?”

“Yes, they are on their way.”

“Name?”

“Chanyeol. Park Chanyeol.”

They took your prepared bag and went to the hospital as soon as you were secured in the stretcher.

“This baby is such in a hurry” confirmed the doctor.

“But wait I need Chanyeol. Kim Jongin might come also.”

“We can’t wait any longer.”

“I AM HERE!”

His deep voice making you relax instantly, your lips pouting asking for some sort of affection.

Chanyeol rushed towards you caressing your face planting a kiss on the crown of your head “am I late? I am sorry, the fucking traffic.”

“Your hair Chanyeol, look at you.”

He felt his disheveled hair with his hands cracking a laugh “I hope I don’t scare the baby.”

“You would never. Thanks for coming Chan.”

“Alrighty dad. Now we need you hold on ___, and give her loads of support and praise her for the good job she is doing. Now hold her hand” ordered the doctor “you will need to take deep breaths and push when I ask you to push, clear?” he continued as the nurses covered your body spreading your legs tying them to the foot rests at the sides.

“Chanyeol! I am scared!”

His long big arm encircled your shoulders kissing your forehead repeatedly “you can do this. We want to meet this boy already, don’t we?”

You nodded as he wiped your tears.

“Now ___, push! Push ___!”

Chanyeol was whispering nonsense looking at your baby boy sleeping in the hospital cot. It was so soothing. The feeling that this giant man oozing so much love towards your tiny baby that could fir in the palm of his hand. 

“Hello!” a nurse looking through your medical file that hanged from the hospital bed “this baby boy is very healthy. But he needs his feed. How about appa feeds him because his mom is still too weak?”

“Me!? But I have no breasts!” Chanyeol replied genuinely speaking.

The nurse chuckled “oh dear, your dad will be so much fun!” she addressed the baby carrying him and placing him on Chanyeol’s arm.

She then pulled out of her pocket a tittle warm formula milk bottle offering it to Chanyeol “let’s see how much he listens to appa. We need him to finish at least half.”

Chanyeol had his eyes fully opened like orbs, he carefully placed the teat on the baby’s lips that he welcomed making him open his eyes. You saw how Chanyeol gasped and trembled with excitement “good boy. You are a champion. I love you. I will protect you forever. You hear me Baekhyun?”

Baekhyun...

He called him Baekhyun.

“Thanks Chanyeol.”

“You are awake?”

“I am. And really thank you.”

“Don’t thank me. This is one of the happiest days of my life. He is gorgeous ___.”

“Can you come closer?”

“But he is feeding. What if I drop him.”

“You won’t, don’t be silly. If anyone can carry him it’s you Chanyeol.”

Chanyeol slowly manoeuvred his way to a standing position carefully carrying the baby placing him on your arms.

“Hi” you whispered “nice to meet you my man.”

Chanyeol kissed your forehead again “so what’s his name ___?”

“He is Chanhyun.”

“Chan?”

“Yes Chanyeol, you will be big part of his life and I want to name him after you too.”

Chanyeol covered his face and the tears that he’s been suppressing all day finally made an appearance. He tried swallowing them back, but he was way too emotional.

“Thanks for everything. Thanks for being there and making me feel that Baekhyun is somehow near me.”

“Byun Chanhyun?”

“No, ___ Chanhyun. I can’t use Byun until he is aware of his son’s existence.”

4 Months later

“Baekhyun did us dirty Suho.”

“And what are we doing him Kris? Doesn’t look too genuine.”

“There’s no other way.”

Chanhyun was growing at an amazing speed, he was gorgeous in every sense, but of course he was 100% his dad, he took absolutely nothing from you except your long eyelashes.

You started working just a few days ago in the only thing that didn’t have drama and wouldn’t stress your life. Coffee.

Chanyeol tried convincing you in opening you a coffee shop of your own and just manage it, but you never accepted, you couldn’t take advantage of him like that, even though he took care of Chanhyun as his own child. He was still nothing to you, 

Your co-workers at the coffee shop kept insisting that there was something going on between you and with either Chanyeol or Kai, they even had bets on who you’d end up with.

“Hello eomma!” greeted Chanyeol holding Chanhyun “we thought of giving eomma a visit.”

“Guys, how many times I told you not to come while I am working?”

“We need to spoil our nephew on our last day babysitting him” pouted Kai looking upset.

“Guys taking him to the nursery is the best for all of us. Chanhyun has grown too dependant on you.”

“Yeah, but he will be dependant on who ever will take care of him at the nursery.”

You walked from behind the counter taking Chanhyun between your arms “how is my Hyunnie doing?” you kissed his cheeks.

“Can’t I take care of him? I will open a nursery at EXO.”

“No Chanyeol. Please it’s already hard enough for me.”

“Ah noona. We could alternate.”

“Jongin. Please? Guys just enjoy today and that’s that. Now let me go back to work, that is if you don’t want me to take him to the nursery a day early.”

“No! We will let you work.”

You went back to your position waving at Chanhyun. You loved how close he was to the guys. He was being the best baby ever.

Chanyeol and Kai took a seat while you prepared their coffees, the definitely draw attention of the female population at the place.

“Hyung you know. Check out that table, 3 bimbos ready to drop it for us.”

“Kai!” exclaimed Chanyeol covering Chanhyun’s ears. “The fuck is wrong with you man? Chanhyun can hear you.”

“You just cursed.”

“I have his ears covered.”

Kai started laughing before noticing one of the girls coming closer and waving at Chanhyun.

“Ahwww, he is so cute.”

Chanyeol got shy and protective bringing Chanhyun closer to him, meanwhile Kai parted his legs and a smirk drawing on his face. 

“He is. We couldn’t be happier to have him.”

“What is his name?”

“Chanhyun.”

“Ahwww Chanhyun. So lucky you have 2 daddies.”

“Wha- no! No no no! We aren’t together.” stated Kai in panic.

“Ah honey why so shy?” Chanyeol teased.

“What the fuck hyung!”

“They aren’t together. They are friends.” you confirmed bringing the coffees. “He is my baby. And they are both single” you added winking at her.

The girl seemed to like that statement, she smiled at you before you went back.

“Would you like to sit with us? Tell your friends.”

“That would be nice.”

“We need to get going Kai” reprimanded Chanyeol.

“No we don’t. We have Chanhyun for the rest of the day, don’t be a party pooper.”

Chanyeol sighed wiping Chanhyun’s mouth after he was done with his bottle.

****

“Hi Junmyeon-ssi.” 

“What are you doing here Iseul?”

“Wow. You were convincing me to come over, and when I come-”

“I don’t like surprises Iseul. I thought by now you’d know me better.”

“You have company don’t you? This was a mistake, how silly of me.” 

She turned on her heels to leave but Suho stopped her grabbing on her wrist “wait!”

“What did I do to deserve being played with the way you do?”

“It’s what happens when you fall in love with an asshole like me. I wish I could let you go because you do deserve better.”

“I am leaving Junmyeon-ssi. If you’ll excuse me.”

Just before she pulled her wrist free she heard a baby crying. She stopped to look at Junmyeon’s worried face.

“A baby? You have a baby in your apartment?”

“It’s- I don’t- Iseul I need your help. I don’t know but I feel I can trust you.”

Junmyeon walked back inside, Iseul found herself following him, the cries of the baby were heard clearer coming from upstairs. Junmyeon led his way and slid the door of his master bedroom open revealing none other than Chanhyun crying on his bed. Iseul ran and picked him up soothing him by whispering a lullaby in his ear, she noticed then that Chanhyun attached his lips to her neck.

“He is hungry. Look he’s trying to suck on something.”

“Are you sure it isn’t because you are simply so irresistible?”

“I am ignoring that stupid comment at a situation like this. Where is his mother? Did you get someone pregnant and they dumped your son at your doorstep? No forget it I don’t want to know. Where is his food?”

Junmyeon rubbed the nape of his neck. I- well Yifan went to get stuff.”

“Stuff? What is this Junmyeon-ssi?”

“Iseul. I am in deep shit. Please don’t leave me now.”

*****

“KAI! KAI! WAKE THE FUCK UP!”

“Yes?”

“KAI! CHANHYUN! WHERE IS CHANHYUN!?”

Kai shot his eyes open in panic, Chanyeol was looking through all the apartment in vain.

“BECAUSE YOU COULDN’T KEEP YOUR DICK INSIDE YOUR PANTS! WE LOST CHANHYUN?”

“No, it’s gotta be a mistake!”

“THERE IS NO FUCKING MISTAKE! THOSE BITCHES YOU INVITED DRUGGED US AND KIDNAPPED CHANHYUN! YOU FUCKING MAN-SLUT!”

By now Chanyeol was pulling his hair crying hysterically “WHAT ARE WE FUCKING GOING TO TELL ___, SHE IS GOING TO KILL US! I WOULD KILL YOU IF IT WAS YOUR MISTAKE ALONE. BUT I AM PART OF THIS SHIT.”

“Hyung calm down, just calm down OK? Let’s think.”

“THERE’S NOTHING TO FUCKING THINK ABOUT!”

“I’ll call the police!”

“DON’T YOU DARE CALL THE POLICE! THEY MIGHT HARM HIM!”

****

“Junmyeon-ssi? You kidnapped this baby? For what? I don’t think I can help you with this.”

“Iseul. Look at the baby, he likes you. You would do a great mother.”

“And you would do a shit father.”

Junmyeon fell quiet for a second. In other circumstances he’d have her apologising and use it against her for the rest of her life. But now he couldn’t do anything. He needed her too much. Also she held his secret.

“Father? Would you picture me as the father of your children?”

“Never! I’d never do that to them. Any man is better than you. Money has blurred right from wrong for you. You are dead inside. Don’t make me hate you more and return this innocent baby to ___. Enough she has to deal with Baekhyun-ssi not being there for her. I don’t know what made you think he’d return to you if he knew his son was in your possession. He’s just as bad as you and Yifan-ssi are.”

“Enough insolences. Don’t think I’ll hesitate to use my power on you.”

“No, I don’t doubt that. A man without a heart can do anything they please.”

“Iseul!” he shouted.

“You made the baby cry. Control your anger, I’ll try making him sleep. Check if there is a bottle inside his bag.”

Suho obediently followed Iseul’s instructions, he got an empty bottle and a container with white powder. He showed Iseul quietly. She inspected the contents trying to figure out how much water it needed.

“Alright so” she whispered as she rocked Chanhyun in her arms “fill the bottle to 100 milligrams with bottled water and heat it in the microwave.”

Suho did as he was asked coming back with the warm bottle of water.

“Now empty the contents of the container in.” she instructed “and feel it in your wrist.”

“Feel what?”

“The milk Junmyeon-ssi!”

Suho squirted some milk on his wrist hissing “hot hot hot!”

“Put the bottle under the tap and try to make it cold.”

By now Chanhyun had fallen asleep between Iseul’s arms. Suho tried the milk on his wrist again and it seemed to be warm and ready for Chanhyun. She took the bottle and quietly fed Chanhyun as Suho sat beside her completely mesmerised by her actions.

“How are you so good with babies?”

“My cousin had a baby about a year ago, and I like babies.” she replied raising her head to meet with the softest look she’s ever seen on Suho’s face.

How could a man so beautiful be so bad?

“He is very handsome. He does look like Baekhyun-ah a lot.”

“Why did you do this Junmyeon-ssi? How could you break a mother’s heart so easily without hesitation like this?”

“I have no other choice. It’s only temporary.”

“I guess I am just as bad now. Look at me not going straight to the police to report you.”

“Iseul, I know it’s not the time or the place. But you are making me feel new things I never knew they were possible.”

Iseul moved his hand away that rested on her shoulder.

“I don’t want to know” she chided disgusted.

*****

“Lay hyung. She’s had a nervous breakdown, we are in the hospital and she’s sedated now.”

“Park Chanyeol you fucking asshole. You claim you love her so much and Chanhyun, and then you are just as bad as Jongin if not worse.”

“Please hyung I- please” Chanyeol started crying again “how are we going to get Baekhyun back, he needs to be here.”

“Now? Now that there is no joy and is shit situation you want to look for him? But when it’s all joyful and ___ is beside you and Chanhyun is growing thinking you are his closest male figure, Baekhyun doesn’t cross your mind.”

“Don’t be so harsh on me hyung. You know I tried finding him. You know I left no stone unturned in my efforts to find him, and ___- she- she is not like that to me anymore.”

“You are a fucking failure. I am disgusted. You fucking asshole you lost their baby!”

“Hyung. Please.”

“Let me fucking think idiot. Now go stay by ___’s side.”

4 months earlier

He kept kissing your lips, 1, 2, 3 times. The kiss tasting salty as his tears lingered on his lips.

“I love you cupcake. I love you. I will leave my heart here before I go. I wish I was stronger, but this is wrong. Please take care of yourself, and of this baby” he continued muffling his sobs “I love you. I love you. I can’t say it enough times.”

“Baekhyun?”

“Yes my sweetest cupcake.” he wiped his tears with his arm and cleared his throat to sound normal.

“Why are you awake? Come closer. Caress my back.”

“My princess wants attention? With pleasure my beautiful babygirl.”

Baekhyun positioned himself behind you warming his already warm hands some more. He ran his fingertips carefully up and down your bare back, placing little eventual kisses on your shoulders.

“I love you.”

“Are you fucking kidding me Baekhyun? On my wedding night showing up in my hotel room? What time is it? What the fuck Byun Baekh-”

“Lay hyung. I am leaving, I cannot do this.”

Yixing adjusted the towel wrapped around his waist pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Baekhyun my dear, I came to a conclusion that you do need a mental health checkup. For your own good, and everyone else’s.”

“I guess I deserve that. I just wanted to say goodbye. I left a note for ___. Goodbye hyung.”

“Baekhyun!”

He turned around.

“How do I find you?”

Baekhyun stood quietly trying not to tear “I don’t want you to find me. I will be weak and come back and ruin everything for everyone.”

“What if something goes really wrong, and we need to reach you?”

Baekhyun’s head hung in defeat.

“Baekhyun. give me any sort of contact, and I promise you to keep it a secret. I will never contact you if it’s not really serious. I am no one to interfere in your toxic relationship. You guys know better. But I need to locate you should anything you need to be aware of happens.”

“Google ‘The Old Hog’ it’s a little convenience store in Scotland. Leave a message to a lady called Margaret or her son Denis.”

“Thank you Baekhyun.”

“Take care of ___, hyung please.”

“I will.”

Present

Yixing had already left a message to Margaret and she assured him that Mr. Byun didn’t show up in the past 2 weeks. Yixing advised her the urgency in the situation and she promised she’ll try and locate him if he was still located around the area.

There was nothing he could do other than wait.

That is what Baekhyun agreed with Margaret. To always tell the man that would call looking for him that she hadn’t seen him in at least in 2 weeks. After she was done with Yixing, she called Baekhyun immediately to the little print shop that he had opened now that he didn’t have any access to his money.

“The man called... Lay he said it was his name, because his other name, oh god almighty, I am not sure I can even pronounce that one. Almost as difficult as yours when y-”

“Margaret! What did he say?”

“Alright. You need to head home.”

“Margaret!”

“He said your son needed you.”

Son...

His son...

His son...

Baekhyun dropped his phone. His whole world spinning and the images of when he first saw you, the images playing on his head like a movie till that last time he kissed your back.

His son?

Who’s son?

His head was spinning as he tried to find the next flight to Seoul in the desktop in front of him. He booked in a matter of seconds a flight leaving from London in 4 hours. He closed the shop and headed to his flat were he got his passport and only the necessary in a backpack heading to town where he could book a rental car. Finally and the silence of the highway while driving he called Yixing.

“Baekhyun?”

“What happened?”

“I can’t tell you over the phone. You have to come.”

“I am on my way Yixing hyung. What son?”

“Baekhyun, ___ is in the hospital and... when will you be here?”

“I will be there in less than 17 hours, if everything goes to plan. What is wrong with ___? What’s wrong?”

“I will be here in Seoul all this week. Call me when you arrive.”

After the call Baekhyun got a notification on his phone. He ignored it at first but they kept coming. He took his phone in hand while driving. It was from Yixing.

Yixing:

Yixing: Isn’t he beautiful?

Yixing: His name is Chanhyun

Yixing: He is almost 5 month old now

Yixing:

Yixing: Isn’t that you?

Baekhyun stopped the car and pulled in the hard shoulder of the highway looking at Chanhyun’s picture. He covered his mouth, his heartbeats audible in his ears. He needed to keep driving but he was incapable. He needed to call Yixing again.

“Yes Baekhyun.”

“Ho- wha- he is...”

“What is he Baekhyun? What is what?”

“Chanhyun?”

“Yes Baekhyun.”

“He is-”

“Yes Baekhyun. He is. He is Byun Chanhyun. He is not a Park and he is not a Kim and he is not anything but a unique and gorgeous and bright baby boy Byun Chanhyun that has an asshole of a father that wouldn’t ever hear anyone, stubborn and pigheaded. He is your son Baekhyun, and he needs you more than ever, and I am sick of your behaviour, and now your mistakes lead to this- Baekhyun stop fucking crying and bring your ass here because your woman needs you strong.”

“He is my son?”

“Look at how beautiful he is Baekhyun. Listen you have exactly 5 minutes to regain composure and continue your trip. I, no we, all of us are waiting for you.”

“Why didn’t you tell me before?”

“WHY? YOU HAVE THE NERVE TO ASK ME WHY? Simply because I didn’t want to lose the only contact I have for you. How did I know what would your reaction be?”

“I am sorry gege.”

“You should be sorry, but this apology wouldn’t be for me Baekhyun.”

“Will- will I call ___?”

“She can’t talk Baekhyun, she is not well. Now are you alright?”

“I am hyung. I am coming.”

*****

As soon as Baekhyun arrived at Incheon airport he took a taxi and headed to the hospital. Incheon hospital was very close fortunately. He was anxious, he was shaking and the taxi driver was looking at him from the rear view mirror questioning his anxiety.

“Welcome back home. I hope all good.” the taxi driver chirped.

“All good. I am just nervous, I am going to meet my son.” Baekhyun found himself speaking, as if his wife just gave birth to his son and he was just simply going to visit her.

“Congratulations! Here we are.”

Baekhyun rushed to the front desk asking for your room. And there he was. He stopped when he noticed Chanyeol squatting in the floor hands over his head.

“Chanyeol?”

He lifted his head to meet with his best friend. Chanyeol didn’t know what to do, he felt guilty that he couldn’t protect his so called nephew.

“I am sorry Baekhyun.”

“What- what happened? Is ___ alright?”

“She- she is in there. She wouldn’t talk to me, and I can’t leave her alone.”

“Come here man.”

Baekhyun pulled Chanyeol into a needed hug. The taller one breaking down hugging him tightly.

“Check on her. Make her smile again.”

Baekhyun entered your room and gasped, he was faced with your back as you stared from the window. He cleared his throat to draw your attention but you didn’t move.

“___?”

You still didn’t move.

“Cupcake.”

The familiar pet name that he gave you when you first met rang in your ears. You turned around slowly meeting Baekhyun’s beautiful face. Your Baekhyun was here. Chanhyun’s father.

You started crying and he moved forward trying to embrace you but you flinched away. It was your first reaction to anything, crying was a good sign. He tried again grabbing both your arms forcing your body on his chest. As a reaction you started to slap his chest repeatedly.

“I am so sorry I am late cupcake.”

You finally gave up burying your face on his neck, filling your nostrils with his smell. His warmth. Safety that you missed.

“I hate you. I hate you. Where were you all this time? Where were you when we both needed you?”

He kept running his hand over your back the back only he could.

“Don’t touch me” you managed to whisper “I hate you.”

“Cupcake. I am so sorry. Please tell me. Where is our son?”

You lifted your gaze to lock eyes with him.

“Lay hyung didn’t tell me everything. I am sorry I wasn’t here. I-”

“You should of been here. It’s your duty to protect our innocent defenceless baby. Bring me Chanhyun back.”

“What-”

“It’s my fault Baekhyun. Chanhyun was under my supervision and he got kidnapped.” announced Chanyeol standing at the door.

_____________________

A/N: Angst till the end of days. Hehehehe. 

Thanks for reading. Feedback always welcomed

a friendly letter to my isp

i didn’t even know it was possible for you to be this shitty. i didn’t think it was technologically possible at this point. a couple of years ago, i didn’t have my computer hooked up with an ethernet cable. with the pc on the upper floor and the router downstairs, you can imagine this setup was far from optimal. and if you didn’t guess that, you’re a fucking idiot, because it was a godawful setup and you should fucking know that.

i remember the command prompt ping tests to google’s ip. i remember the jagged ends of each reply line as the ping spiked from double to triple digits. running the ping tests didn’t solve anything, it didn’t make the internet any better or more stable, but it helped to know whether it was my pc or the internet that was choking. here’s a hint: it was usually the fucking internet. why, you may ask? well i know my pc, even now, isn’t a god tier computer. and sometimes it has problems. but as painful as its bullshit has been, the suffering my pc has caused me is nothing in comparison with the crap you deign to call a ‘service’.

it’s in your fucking name! internet service provider! we pay you handfuls of cash a month to provide internet. and, ok, to be fair, this on-off garbage counts as providing internet, right? at least when it’s on. when the ping test replies aren’t a long, long stream of “Request timed out.”, and when, despite the ping replies, web pages and anything that requires internet to function actually works.

i’d gotten used to playing with 100+ or even 1000+ ping when i was into tf2. i also had <20fps a lot of the time, so the harder parts about gaming (the shittiness of pc + internet) weren’t entirely your fault, even when i was rubberbanding like a motherfucker and had absolutely no clue where i was going, and no hope of finding out until the ping calmed down just long enough for me to watch my character run off of a cliff or into a saw blade.

well, things were better after the ethernet cable. exponentially so. the wifi was still garbage, and you could tell when spikes were happening depending on how fast (or, more likely, slow) things were loading (or, more likely, not loading) on mobile. but at least i could play an online pc video game without rubberbanding from egypt to the goddamn dark side of the fucking moon. i would pull up the occasional pingtest, especially if things seemed to be loading slow or there were any suspicious connection issues, but things tended to settle down within a reasonable amount of time. sometimes the weather or other external factors were to blame. i could get work done online again, because, you know, some people need the internet to do their schoolwork and other work. i hope this doesn’t come as a surprise, and you aren’t just throttling my (household’s) connection to get your rocks off.

because, seriously, the past few days? they have been some real painful kick to the goddamn nuts. i mean, it got so bad that my dad had to tell me to run a speed test, and i had to say, i can’t, because i can’t load any webpages. and then he had to call you guys to ask 'hey what the fuck is the deal’. and then, after  a couple of router reboots and whatever, after 3 hours of bejewelled when i might’ve been able to be productive but couldn’t because i was too fucking pissed, the internet worked again. just not very well. and i know because first of all, the pingtest doesn’t lie; second of all, the friends whom i was gaming with told me, hey dave, you’re kinda cutting out; and thirdly, the game itself involved some rubberbanding (my old friend) and y’know, the little yellow symbol in the upper left side of the overwatch HUD that tells you ‘your connection is fucking shit, is your router a potato, you should definitely go check that out right now because i think your router might in fact be a rotting root vegetable and not a functioning piece of technology!’

but i dealt with it, because even if it took some pain, at least shit was working again. not all was lost. better than not having it work at all, right? well, that brings me to today, and to tonight in particular. look, i’ll keep it simple: shit isn’t loading. y’know what would be nice? for shit to load. i have work to do. yeah, you can see i’m not constantly getting work done, but when i do, i generally require the internet and its resources to both help me and to keep me fucking sane instead of having to ruminate on your asinine bullshit inability to do the aforementioned thing you’re supposed to do because that’s what we fucking pay you for - to provide the internet service. 

do you have any idea how many times i’ve tried to launch and log into overwatch? i’m not sure if you’re privy to that knowledge, but i can tell you with full confidence that i must’ve wasted 20 minutes. this isn’t even me trying to get into a match, because, shit, i can’t even get into the fucking game itself. i just wanted to check my inventory. and i’m using this as an example because if i were to start listing the other webpages i’ve been trying (and generally failing) to use, then we’d be here all fucking night.

it’s actually kind of amazing how terrible you are. because i’d experienced drastic connectivity issues in the past, i could kind of brush aside the other times you’ve fucked up over the past year or so, post-ethernet cable. i’m not the kind of person to contact customer support, and especially not to yell at customer support. i like tipping more than necessary at restaurants, trying to make retail workers’ lives a little less shitty when i am given the opportunity. you know, typical decent person things. but holy fucking shit i cannot express the furious desire that ravaged my mindscape upon having to deal with your bullshit yesterday and today, wanting to ring you guys up and, even though i’m not the head of household or person who pays for the internet service, fucking yell at the first unfortunate living soul to respond: how is it even possible for you to be this shitty what the fuck do you think we pay you for one of the things you’re supposed to do is not be this shitty how are you failing at providing the internet if i have to deal with this for another hour, another fucking hour of slogging through webpages that can’t fucking load, i will come over to your headquarters or office or whatever and yell at you in fucking person you have no idea what i’m capable of. and of course i also thought, amidst the admittedly all-encompassing haze of anger, well that wouldn’t be very fair to the poor worker taking my call, and it probably wouldn’t help to solve much, nor would it incentivize helping to figure out whatever the problem was. 

but fuck if it wouldn’t have been satisfying for a moment.

I don’t know about you guys. But when you are on your technology 📱 💻 , do you guys notice that it doesn’t do exactly what you want or you operate it like usual to no go or something is just not right. I am a computer 💻 graduate student right. Also, I had a desktop when I was a kid. I never read the instructions on how to use them or studied 🤓 how Microsoft Office works. I learned as I go. When I was working as a caregiver, I actually had a MICU contract with the Clinic a semester before graduation among all things, my client’s husband was interested in the area and picked my mind on the topic. He was amazed at my troubleshooting skills when his printer 🖨 would not work. It is really trial and error based on knowledge. My German radio 📻 won’t play. All systems are in place. I disconnect the Bluetooth and played the app. The audio was coming out of my phone 📱. I also had changed Internet connections 🔗 from DSL. Our family plan has unlimited data 🌐. Well, I am enjoying 😊 it as I want it. I had a piece of cake 🍰. I didn’t ask for heavy whipping cream. I should learn to getting by. That’s how most people live. There is something powerful in keeping yourself in check. It spills out in many areas of life. I slept 🛏 in and without guilt. I don’t have an oversleeping 💤 headache 🤕. I am happy 😃 even if I am not anywhere but the gym 🏃🏼‍♀️ 💪🏾. I wanted to take a picture 📸 of the new TRX like training area. There are boxing 🥊 bags. How exciting 😆 . I was like a new kid on the playground. Soaking in every details of this novel machinery. I was like, “What are those big disk for, how about those handles?” It was thrilling. You forgot that it’s suppose to intimidate you and many people were already enjoying it. I didn’t want to take their privacy by putting them on my tumblr. I saw Mark Consuelo training with the team. They looked 👀 so good 😊 like they have bonds. He looks angry 😤 tough. I always see him like he is a puppy 🐶. When I went around to check the new stuff, I was trying to have a feel of how everything is. Usually being in a room full of boys does not bother me. But since being in the hot 🥵 sauna 🧖🏼‍♀️ night time 🌃full of only older men, I seemed to be aware of my womanly 👩🏼 presence. It was like that stepping into the big boy training machines. The place seemed packed with stuff in all areas. That says a lot about membership. I didn’t want to be the petulant courageous in the room. There are many forms of tough but it doesn’t need to insist and push everybody around. I had no choice but to cut through the people working out. I said hi 👋🏾 to heart ❤️ attack but really I am not there. I am not up. I am slowed in reaction. I am not feeling bubbly. I didn’t want to disrupt his weightlifting. I caught him in the middle of. He is so cute in baby blue shirt 👕. He doesn’t go for cute it seems to me. I guess fatherhood does things to him. He seemed happy 😃. He’s less serious on uncharted territory. Yeah, he’s like oozing with confidence. He doesn’t look 👀 it, but I feel that he is changing. I was being strict. I need my colorful 🎒 backpack. I am also changing my lip 👄 color. Fall 🍃🍂🍁 Someone suggested to keep my summer colors. Ok, para tú. I had plans on going to the health club today even if I am skipping yoga 🧘🏼‍♀️ for full back muscle healing ⛑. When my alarm ⏰ rang, I decided without guilt that I can take #namasteinbedallday . That’s what I am doing. I slowed myself to sleep 😴 last night. I was reading 📖 a book.

I didn’t shut off right away. My mind continued to process. It’s just how it is. I can take like supplements or teas 🍵. Nyquill. I even woke up several times during the night. I am not in a bad mood 😒. I usually am because sleep 😴 is important part of functioning healthy and I know that and I am on it. I am doing what I can to do exactly the best way to increase my day’s productivity 📊📈. Today, the question ❓❔❓ begs if I should allow things to happen to me instead of me reacting and doing things to counter it. My answer right now which is different from my first solution is a balance. A push and pull. But what I had in mind is to let go. Maybe I am being too hard on being too hard. Does that make sense. It’s like you want this result so you are sticking to your approach but there are other factors that are acting upon the situation. Instead of charging at the same spot, allow it to unfold and attack. Capish 👌🏾.

I am almost done ✅ with the Lady Cop 👮🏻‍♀️ book 📚 and I can’t wait 😊 to return it. I wondered 💭 what the librarian said about the stolen book in my purse 👜. My audio dropped 🔽 and another elements presented itself, the server retrieval. The problem must be somewhere in Germany 🇩🇪. If you are schooled 🏫 in the infrastructure of the World Wide Web, you’d be amaze at the speed at which we receive information ℹ️ and the many hops it actually takes to get to us. Let me pull the class that I found invaluable from Dr. Chuck of Michigan University. It is a free course unless you want a certificate.

I lost my train of thought ✍🏾 🤔. I maybe a zombie 🧟‍♀️ slow to react and didn’t want to be bothered 😕 but I had stuff going through my mind 🧠. I find myself smiling 😃 and on further stimulus I tried to keep a straight face. I was noticing how there were many guys and they were so excitable. They keep on touching their hair, adjusting their glasses, stretching 🙆‍♂️. I suppose they want to be at their toes or they just had a full day already . Sometimes I am like that. But this day I was more, shucks I don’t want to slip from the belt on soft knees. I kept taking breaks and that’s ok. I found that I needed distraction even if it’s something I generated for myself . I remem what was on my mind. I want to know if my package 📦 shall be delivered. I think my Mom is here. I smell beef 🥩 cooking 🥘 on the stove. What an olfactory sense 👃🏾. I already drank my fit Americano ☕️. There was cold espresso on the fridge. I took many breaks oft times to relieve myself or grab a towel or check out what’s new. I have a song 🎶.

“What's new Buenos Aires?

I'm new--I want to say I'm just a little stuck on you

You'll be on me too!

I get out here Buenos Aires

Stand back--you ought to know what'cha gonna get in me

Just a little touch of star quality! “

Boy, I am up.

I just called the library , they said to bring the police 🚔 report. Thank God, I was thinking and included it on the list of items lost. I didn’t even list the cost of the Bagley Mischka wallet which would increase the value 💲💲💲💲 of the theft. My lipsticks 💄. My Tahari sunglasses 🕶 which is a little over a hundred bucks. Of course, I didn’t pay 💰 full price. What did I say? Cheapies for those without jobbies 😂. I know why Dad is a little worried 😟. He is sleepy 💤. He pulled long hours 🕡 for overtime opportunities that’s why I had to cancel 📞 my Derm 🥼 appointment. He’s bro is sick 🤒 with an infection. He’s the eldest. Is there going to be a death 💀? I maybe impervious not because I don’t have a heart ♥️ but the devastation has already been anticipated. I cannot do anything about it and I must know how to deal. Did you guys know that McCain’s son went back to his duty for like if I got it right 8 months 📅 and just returned to grieve? That’s the reality for those who serve in the armed forces even if your Dad was like a Presidential Candidate. You have to keep yourself together, honor him in the best way, and do what is your duty. That could be emotionally packed and loaded.

The day was plain really. I keep on bumping into Katie. She’s so dedicated at her job. I like her. Stacey left. She’ll be missed and I’ll always look 👀 to see if she came back. I didn’t see the newbies. I haven’t seen Jocelyn. I suppose she’s doing good for herself. She tells me she doesn’t earn a lot. I told her how I started selling books 👓 . You are starting. It get’s better. Adulting, you stick to it, you keep on, focus on what must be done ✅ and plan on a better future. There were no classes 💃🏼 afternoon. I didn’t make it to the sauna 🧖🏼‍♀️. I had to cut my time by 15 minutes ⏱ in second cardio ❤️ . I am happy 😃 that I already put in my work earlier. I stayed 30 minutes over early afternoon treadmill. So if you put it in a overall sense, I bested goal 🥅 by 15 minutes over. I saw Ahmed. I was so happy 😀 to see him. We know each other in the studio when I feel like being in the left corner. He said he has back issues too and I recommended Gina’s easier yoga 🧘‍♂️ classes. I remember Root. There was another one. I should check it out if anyone asks. Before taking my break I saw Lorene and stopped 🛑 to say hi 👋🏾. She noticed my water 💦 with lemon 🍋 and I had mention my nausea 🤢, headache 🤕, faintness 🌀. I met Jean a pediatric ICU nurse. She had a life changing medical 🏥 event. But without hesitation she recommended the Epley maneuver. Promising. It must be done ✅ by a medical practitioner and I keep on asking if a chiropractor 👨🏻‍⚕️does it. It sounds drastic. I told dance 🕺🏽buddy, we are human and we all have problems. We deal with it the best that we can. We have to determine for ourselves what’s the best action. Like if I know that folding down makes me sick 🤒, then, don’t do it. I just thought that if the prob persists for longer than 6 mons. shall I go to the ear 👂🏾 doctor? Also, aromatherapy and perhaps peppermint oil. Essential oil infused mat cleaner 🧼.

Sticking With the Schuylers (40)

(Not only did I stay up way too late for my schedule to write this, but I also woke up earlier this morning to finish it...it wouldn’t go the rest of the day undone. I mean, I’m a teacher and it’s the end of the year, I don’t have anything glaringly important to do....no way....)

If you haven’t given this story a chance...I mean, I’m not saying you’re missing out but it might seem daunting, but don’t we all like a little emotional roller-coaster once in a while?

1  2  3  4   5   6   7   8   9   10   1112   I  13  14   15   16   17   18A  18B   18C  I  19   20   21   22   23   24   25  26   27  28   29   I  30  31  32 33 34 35  36  37  38  39

Tagging: @linsnavi  

Warnings: This story is pretty heavy on mentions of both physical and emotional abuse.

               “I need to talk to you.”

               Eliza comes home on Wednesday night with an unreadable expression, somewhere between somber and passive. It’s later than usual; the inclusion of therapy has not only imposed on their night, which they’ve wordlessly moved to Tuesdays instead, but it has also taken a chunk of her relaxation away as well. She kicks off her snow-infested boots at the door, peeling off layers with slow and careful movements. He can’t tell if she’s exhausted or tense, mulling over her words. Her keys hit the countertop with a clang and she looks up to meet him.

               He’d risen from his chair in the office immediately upon hearing her voice. It barely even reached the room, where he’d been holed up working on a case study he’d been buried in for days. Her voice falls flat. There is a worry that sinks into his heart, cold and unforgiving, and he hesitates at the door to watch her. She lets her coat hang from her hands for a moment, fabric brushing the floor before it falls completely. The knit pattern on her scarf is traced by tentative fingers that run along its ridges, carving out each space as if the feeling of wool chilled by winter weather is something she needs to memorize in this very moment. It feels like an eternity by the time she has completely shed all of her winter garb, leaving it in neat piles by the door as she finally looks up at him.

This week had been her third session with Lisa. Eliza had warned him-as Lisa had warned her-that things would only get harder before they got better. Then she’d shaken it off, pegged it as a cautionary tale not meant for her. She’d been so sure that she’d be able to make it, to leave therapy in the room and continue on with her life as if it were completely normal. It was a mistake to think so optimistically. The night had been especially tiring; ‘we’ll leave that for the next session’ had finally caught up to her, the pass cards completely used up. There were too many things to talk about in the space of time they had to be lingering on every minute, pleasant detail within her life. She’s acutely aware of the fact that she won’t be able to move on unless she begins to talk about the bad-the unpleasant. Still, wanting and needing had become two very different places in her life, distancing themselves more every second. There’s no room for compromise. Need has to come now before want or wish or hope. This premise aches, and stings. Eliza is exhausted.

               She sinks into the couch expectantly, patting the space next to her as if she’s giving herself a death sentence. Her face has fallen considerably, eyes cast to the floor and fingers fumbling idly in her lap.

               “So I don’t want you to think that any of this is your fault, okay?” Alexander nods, curious. Eliza draws in a breath-a shot of courage, and holds it in place for a moment before speaking. She has the floor. Alexander is attentive and curious and silent, poised no doubt with the perfect turn of phrase on the tip of his tongue. Her stomach turns with nerves that roll in a docile storm, just enough to shake her confidence.

               “Lisa talked to me last week about a decision I had to make and I ignored her, thinking it would just go away. It hasn’t, and she keeps giving me all of these drawn-out reasons why we have to have this talk and at first I didn’t think it was necessary but the more she talks the more she changes my mind…”

               “Okay, it’s alright, we can work this out. I can get another job, we don’t have to have an office. You can even keep student teaching, right?-because nine months give or take would bring us to September, and that might be kind of hard but if we just sit down and talk about it we can figure this out. And then your parents-shit, your parents-they can, uh, we can just sit down with them, and have a rational talk, and you might need to cry if I’m not already crying and if your dad doesn’t murder me, and a baby’s a lot of work but I think we can do it,”

               “-Wait, Alex, slow down!” She’s nearly laughing now, alarm in her eyes and the hint of a smile playing at her lips. She moves her hands from her lap to his shoulders, tracing tracks along them as his heartbeat and his scattered mind settle. “I’m not pregnant.”

               The release of tension in Alexander is visible; his shoulders drop, his hands stop sweating. He nods his head, fervently, letting the words wash over him in excess until they finally click in his mind.

               “Good-okay, not good as in I wouldn’t support you if you were, but good as in we haven’t even had this conversation yet, and this is not the right time to be raising a child, and we have careers and family and,”

               “-It’s okay, Alexander, I understand. I’m not offended. I mean, could you imagine my father if that were the case?” He had. He’d imagined it all, right down to each gruesome detail within the thirty-second span of time he had been stumbling over his words ready to provide for her. Being maimed by Phillip Schuyler after impregnating his daughter three months into their relationship isn’t exactly the kind of rapport he wants to have with the man. He’s fine continuing the simple chats they’ve had thus far, those are enough to carry him into his good graces.

               “I-uh, I did have something important to talk to you about, though.”

               May; the school year has ended, and somehow Eliza has managed to complete every task and assignment on time, and in good reflection in her grades as well. She sits on the porch of her parents’ house with Angelica, looking over her final grades with a sigh of relief. She is genuinely surprised that she passed the year. Academically, Eliza did not find it too difficult. In fact, she excelled far above the others with her knowledge taken from volunteer work and tutoring, bits and pieces of knowledge coming in handy in her development classes. Even in math, which had proven to be her worst subject throughout school, she managed to pull a grade above her expectations.

               The second semester had been trying. Angelica can see it reflected in the dropping marks, the weight of Eliza’s GPA dipping her down to just barely missing the dean’s list, which had been her goal all along. She had tried to explain, for the fifteenth time, that making the list was exceptionally hard-especially at a school like Columbia. Eliza wouldn’t listen. Watching her little sister was like watching herself through a mirror. The high expectations did not come from their parents as much-no, Phillip and Catherine wanted their daughters to succeed by trying their hardest, not by breaking their backs. This is something internalized, built into their mismatched DNA in a harrowing representation of perfectionism that fought with their minds on a daily basis. It isn’t enough that they both are going to Columbia. It isn’t enough that they’ve made high marks their entire year. To Angelica and Eliza, there is always a higher goal to be met in academics. Angelica has achieved it for the third year in a row. Eliza has missed on her very first try.

               Angelica knows the pathway that had taken her younger sister from straight A’s to lower A’s and B’s. This is entirely a fault that cannot be placed on Eliza, who had spent late nights trying to complete school work and come to class late covered in concealer with sorrow-ridden eyes. From the moment she had moved in with James, her grades began to slip. Her assignments grew harder. Her life grew harder. She had held her head up like a warrior through it all, persevered and battled herself to keep her spot at the school she had been dreaming about for years on end. It’s her family’s legacy, to move from Manhattan Prep to Columbia. It’s their dream to keep the dignity and respect alive through the deeply-rooted tradition. And she had almost lost it-according to her own thoughts.

               “You didn’t do badly at all, Eliza. Look-your Health & Nutrition professor left a note that your final project on bringing sustainable choices to school lunches was inspired. Actually, you have a lot of comments on here.”

               “I guess.”

               “Eliza, you got really good grades for your first year at Columbia. And for everything you went through,”

               “-No.” Her voice is hollow, cracked. Eliza grabs the paper transcript from her sister’s hands, burying it in her lap without sparing a second glance. She’d already memorized the marks, anyway. “We’re not using that as an excuse. We broke up in March. There’s no reason I shouldn’t have been able to higher grades than this.”

               As summer slowly crept into view, the thought of final marks never left Eliza’s mind. There were days where she seemed fine; that she was no longer pained by her experiences and could not even remember what she had been so upset about. But most days she found that time hung suspended in front of her, where the beginning prickling heat of summer took over the streets. The world was surrounded in humidity that brought crowds stumbling inside and packing the subways with sweaty bodies pressed tight together. In this chaos Eliza never stopped. She threw herself back into the things she had missed in a manic sort of frenzy that packed her schedule from dawn to dusk. Angelica went from seeing her every time she walked through the door from work to only once in a while, in sparing moments in the holes of her schedule. And when she did see Eliza-when they sat together at brunch, or spent a moment in the kitchen over some tea and cookies-she was just an average human being with an over packed schedule and a sleep pattern to match.

               Angelica knew better-she always knows better.

               There’s one morning that Eliza doesn’t leave the house, at least not at the crack of dawn. Angelica and John have both woken up, and are sitting at the little breakfast nook in the corner of their kitchen. John pours over one half of the newspaper while Angelica takes the other. They sit in a peaceful sort of silence, the sound of birdsong and small sips of hot coffee the only accompaniment. They hear Eliza before they see her. This morning she is a slow, methodical clicking of oxford flats against hardwood. John looks up from his mug to greet her and is met with blinking eyes and a grin painted unsteadily on well-made features.

               “You’re here late.” John speaks up first, eyes lifted just above the crease of the newspaper. She nods. Although the conversation has invited her further into the kitchen she does not move-her legs won’t will it. Instead she hovers in her place, staring at the couple at the table with an inward plea she doesn’t even realize she’s sending. Prod. Her mind whispers the words, begging. Ask me what’s up. Help me.

               “Come sit, Bets.” Angelica pats the space next to her on the bench of the nook and scoots over to accommodate her younger sister, holding out a piece of toast with an inviting grin.

               “So what are you up to today?”

      ��        “I-uh, I'm meeting someone for lunch. Actually, that's kind of why I'm…I wanted to ask…well, I got a call from James this morning.”

               “And you didn't answer it, because you're a smart girl.” Eliza’s face falls, eyes cast to the table. She picks at a piece of slightly burnt toast, no longer hungry anymore. Her stomach churns with the frown of disapproval and immediate flurry this sends both Angelica and Church into.

               “Tell me he's not the friend you're going to lunch with.”

               Another silence. The slow burn of their eyes on her-judging, accumulating facts that aren't quite there yet-that burn singes thin skin, leaving reddened marks in its place. Eliza sits under their watch. This is all she can do, as if they have magnetized her to the breakfast nook and the burnt toast.

               “Elizabeth Schuyler, I know you're smarter than this.”

               “It's not as bad as it sounds; he's getting help. He checked himself into a counseling center for abusive men. He's going to get better. And in order for him to be able to do that, his group leader told him that he has to meet the mistakes of his past. He has to reconcile.”

               “At the cost of all of the progress you’ve made? I don’t think so.”

               Angelica stares down her younger sister, who peers back at her through widened eyes. Eliza pushes strands of hair back into the bobby pins that hold them from her face before her hands drop. She picks at the fairly fresh coat of mint green nail polish, wincing as it begins to chip away. She hates painting her nails-the effort isn’t nearly worth the week they last, if that long. She does, however, love the first day with a new color on. Matching the polish to her clothing, looking down and admiring blues or pinks or nude tones had become one of the simpler pleasures of her life. And each time she began to chip away at it, she’d simply start anew. It’s easy to wipe away one round of polish to make room for the next. She does it without a second thought.

               She wonders, then, if this effort would be worth it. Angelica continues to stare, keeping her rooted to her seat at the table with an iron grip made only with the fire of an older sister’s protection. Her heart is racing, then, running through the options although her mind has already been made up. The implications of her actions are real-she had felt them before, that day in March. There is not a part of her that wants that to happen again. However, there is still a draw. As much as she would never admit it, to her sister or to John or even to herself, hearing James’s voice on the phone had brought her back. There were times, simpler times, where she had been happy with him. In the beginning he’d hold her close to his side. He’d link her arm through his, walk to a bench in the smallest green oasis in the city where they would just sit and talk. In the beginning, James was gentle. He’d speak in kindness, with those hazel-green eyes that pop against chocolate, freckle-dusted skin. The summer introduced him with a sunny disposition and a warmed heart. As the weather approaches that mark again, reminiscing on that same heat has spun Eliza’s head around and back again. Suddenly, November through March are just faded memories that run on a plane of non-existence. Suddenly, there is only summer-the sweet, gentle warmth of James Reynolds before the lack of heat had turned him sour.

               As long as one looks hard enough, there is hope in every moment. Eliza hitches herself to that belief as she finally meets Angelica’s eyes, her own full and round and ready to battle.

               “God, Angelica, I’m not saying I’m going to marry the man tomorrow. I’m saying that this is an important key to his healing. I’m not going to deny him the chance to turn his life around. He’s taken the first steps. I have to do this.”

               “No, you don’t!”

               “Angelica!” She shouts her sister’s name, then, a voice unlike her own rising from the depths of her diaphragm in an uncontrolled and sudden burst of anger. Both Angelica and John sit back in their seats, then, watching as Eliza picks herself up from the table. She paces the room for a while, force-pushing the optimistic thoughts back into her mind. John shuffles the paper. Angelica’s mug clinks against her plate. They’ve reached a stalemate, Eliza unwilling to go without the permission her sister will not give. Each with a different understanding of the situation, this is the first real fight they have gotten themselves into.

               “I could go with you.” John speaks up, then, in his calm and subdued manner. He glances between the sisters, offering a peace-a compromise. His girlfriend’s eyes are lowered, angered and betrayed. She does not interrupt. There is always a judicial sense in whatever John Church has to say. Quiet by nature, his speech is thought out and significant when given.

               “I’ll hang out at a different booth-close by, to be safe. This way, you can still talk.” Angelica has loosened, slightly, but the tension is still visible in her tight shoulders and unmoving limbs. John turns to her, a hand on her hand. “If things start to go badly, I step in. He won’t even know who I am. I’ll wear a hat or a fake beard or something if that makes it any better.”

…

               May 14th is an overcast day. The clouds seem to want nothing more than to spill their contents on the thirsting earth, but they hold off. Instead they close the city in with a shadow that spills over, the day feeling immediately gloomy. Eliza holds her nerves in the lump of her throat as she waits to enter the small café James had chosen for lunch. John had gone in half an hour earlier under the premise of waiting for a date that will never show up, an excuse to keep the center table long enough to be witness to their meeting.

               She stumbles in as soon as the clock on her phone shifts to noon, legs carrying her quicker than she wishes to the table he’d saved. She passes John, bowler hat and all, on the way. He nods. She’s nearly choking on the thrumming of her heartbeat in her chest.

               He’s wearing her favorite of his shirts; a soft blue, collared cotton he dresses underneath a navy cardigan. It turns his eyes brighter, the green of the sea on an overcast day like today. James stands to greet her, holding her hand and nodding and waiting for her to sit across from him before he joins her. She sips the water already at the table and he chats as if they’re back to the beginning. It feels like the beginning. The tapping of Eliza’s heart against her chest slows into a steady hum. She leans back against her chair. She laughs.

               The conversation turns quite slowly to the topic of his counseling; he hadn’t mentioned it yet, and it had felt wonderful to just catch up with him. But glancing up Eliza notices John in a booth near them, watching over a menu. He sits on the edge of his chair. Eliza recoils at the glaring memory that comes flying back then, back to her mission and the reason she nearly hadn’t joined him in the first place.

               “So, this is for…for your therapy?”

               “We’re working on getting back the things we lost-making peace with the past. It’s a…it’s a very intensive program, but I think it’s going well.” A pause, and then, “I miss you, Elizabeth.”

               The sound of her name from his lips, the way he’d crafted it so neatly with perfectionistic diction and a near purring of syllables, stirs something within her. It is not love, not in the way she had felt so long ago although she doubts it will ever go away. Her heart, once thrumming wildly with the potential of possibility and boundless optimism, sinks and settles at the bottom of her stomach as a sea stone set cold with a fear of the rolling tide. Her full name, once beautiful and bright, is beautifully masked venom from a snake’s scheming tongue. Eliza freezes in her seat. Like any of her actions back in the cold of their fall-winter-spring together, it does not go unnoticed.

               “What?” James inches forward in his chair, a hand on the table between them. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

               “Where does your group meet?”

               “Uptown.”

               “How’d you find them?”

               “Online.”

               “Why did you really want me here?” It takes an impulse and a shot of courage to send the words across the table, and once she does Eliza immediately regrets them. James’s lips turn, just a hint of a degree, but enough to hint at the first signs of his anger. She backs further away, feet planted sideways on the floor; a getaway. She’d gotten good at escape plans in the months with-and now without him.

               “Are you even in therapy?”

               He does not want to answer her question; the Cheshire grin he has grown fill between the lines of their conversation sufficiently enough for Eliza to feel a shockwave-sparks that light within her body as warning flares. Her chair scuffs the floor as she propels it out from under her, gathering her bag. His hand is on hers before she can move away.

               “I knew you’d come running the second I called. That’s how it works, isn’t it? Sweet Eliza. Sweet, naive Elizabeth. You need me, you know. Who else is going to keep you safe?”

               His hand is all the way up her arm now, running itself up and down in a trail that leaves icy pin-pricks in its wake. She wants to recoil-she wills her muscles to punch, or tense…anything to fight back. Instead, she stays rooted-frozen. His touch transports her to a time where she could no longer move-to fall-winter-spring, where she’d been motionless under his spell of charm and wit and poise he’d saved only for the public image.

               It feels as though time has suspended itself in mid-air as both of his hands find their way to her hips. In reality, it is only a matter of seconds before John has pulled her away, throwing filthy, daggered curse words his way as he wraps Eliza in his own arms, turning so her body is sheltered from him. He bellows in a voice she’s never heard from his reserved manner, with threats to harm she’d never intended. She’d never wanted any of this to happen. She’d never thought she’d have to be saved.

               Naive; she’d trusted James. Her heart had fluttered at its reintroduction to his eyes. Her heart had been so full of hope, of stories she’d tell Angelica of his progress and his light.

He’d come to hurt her. She’d been naïve.

John does not speak to her on their way back to the apartment. Angelica does not say ‘I told you so.’ Instead, she whispers words of her middle sister’s boundless kindness as they lay nose to nose in bed that night. Eliza pretends to sleep. She is not sure whether reality or her dreams will haunt her more, and she is not willing to gamble. One word whispers her to a lurid, sweat-laden nightmare.

Sweet Eliza; forgiving. Kind. Sweet Elizabeth, always sweet.

…

               “I think we need to live apart for a while.” She holds her breath then, the words tumbling out faster than she’d expected them to. It’s easier to speak to Alexander, simpler; even when she hadn’t wanted to have this conversation at all.

               The air is stagnant and stale and Alex fights to keep his head above it all. Eliza’s suggestion-request, really-burrows deep into his mind. With it come one thousand accusations, thoughts and shouting and terse words all aimed from his mind to his heart. Although he seeks answers and the ability to understand he is suddenly buried under the premise of what she is saying, what the suggestion might mean for them. He hadn’t envisioned a life without her in a long time. The temporary piece of their living situation had gone away long ago-or so he’d thought. It’s only been a little over a month since he’d moved in-what could have gone wrong in such a short amount of time? Is she having second thoughts about him?

               Two long, agonizing minutes and Alex still has not said anything. Eliza watches the physical manifestation of his thought process in his wandering eyes and hand that rubs the back of his neck. He nods, accepting, but his mouth hinges and unhinges in the beginnings of questions that will not form. He’s not sure whether the lump in his throat is from the now arid air or the beginnings of raw emotion that have welled up in his throat. Either way, he rests his hand on her thigh.

               “…okay. Okay. I’m not going to argue with you-this is your apartment, that would be stupid. But can I just…can I ask why?”

               “Because I’ve been going through a lot of memories…this giant, holed-up mess of things I never even knew happened to me. I’ve been so busy with you that I’ve forgotten myself again.” He looks away then, poorly-hidden guilt shrouding his sinking figure and seeping into her skin. “It’s not your fault-god no, it’s really not. It’s just this fun thing I do where I attach myself to people too heavily. Right now, I really can’t afford that.”

               “Are we still together?” His tone of voice lingers somewhere between hopeful and subconsciously chilled. Alex is not angry; he could not find it in his heart to be cold to her about something like this. Disappointment sinks into his joints, his heart. The room changes almost immediately before his eyes, as if her words could erase the painting of domesticity they’d created in just a second. His mug is an intrusion in their pile of dishes, his blanket a left-behind. He pulls it from the back of the couch, cradling it in his hands before moving to their-her-bedroom.

               “Or course we are-Alex, are you angry with me?”

               “I just need a minute!” He pulls his bags from the closet, emptying drawers and cabinets and casting them by the door in a haphazard fashion. She stands in the hallway, watching his flurried actions with tear-blurred vision. The more he packs, the less control she has over herself. Eliza lingers in a limbo between being unable to see or hear anything that’s going on and taking it all in much too fast. There is no in-between. When Alex flies by her again she stops him, a hand on his, breathing his name through quivering lips.

               “I’m not angry, Eliza. I just,” He flings the last bag by the door, holding her shoulders in his hands before wiping the warm, salted tracks of tears from her reddened cheeks. She shakes in his hold, her uncertain frown a permanent fixture. “If we need to live apart, we need to live apart. I’ll call the guys and we’ll figure it out.”

               There is something more that lingers on the edge of his sentence, tucked back away before it spills over the edge. A coating of thickness creeps in and fills the air around them, turning Eliza’s breath heavy and laborious. This is important. This is for you. You’ll be alright.

               As if to pacify the thoughts she does not speak aloud, Alex shifts over to wrap her in his arms. He feels different, radiating love but lingering with a hint of the disappointment she had seen earlier. She does not like it. She can’t blame him.

               There is a bitter taste on his tongue, one he hopes will not translate as he kisses her goodbye later that night. There is no more room for words-he has lost them all in the fight to keep himself sane-to understand her request and accept it as dutifully as he should. When she shuts the door behind him, the slow, hesitant click is one last shock to his heart. Eliza watches out the peephole as he goes, bags slung over his shoulders, with a heavy heart.

               She wants nothing more than to run after him; to invite him back inside their home. She’s already mourning his place in bed beside her, which no doubt has already run cold. The chill in the air comes from a lack of his presence, not the usual air of bitter, unforgiving January. The apartment is empty. Without his furnishings; his little souvenirs on the shelf, opened and pen-marked books on every flat surface….this is not home. But the immediate hole in her heart also speaks in volumes to her mind, which is racing with the implications of what she has just done. She’s hurt him. She’s heartbroken. In that same frame of mind, there is a light. It is small, but she figures it might just be what she needs to get by. Racing to the office, she pulls out an unopened sketch book and a tin of charcoals.

               Next Wednesday, Eliza pulls the book from her bag and opens it, wordless, and watches as Lisa nods at her work. Most of the thick paper is filled with dark blues, accented only with blacks and the occasional mint in a swirling of colors resembling a thick and tumultuous sea. A red line crosses the page from one end to the other, from the darkness to a completely different masterpiece. There, at the top, is the centerpiece of it all. A quarter-sized cocktail of yellows and whites and orange stands out among the dark, coasting above the sea as a beacon. Hope. It’s the first time she’s pulled out her sketchbook since that summer-winter-spring, since it had been filled only with the mimicking of the purples and blues that were a constant ornament to her skin. This feels different, right. And although that wire, that red tether still binds her to Alexander, it is through the light and the hope. He’s connecting her from each opposite end of the art piece. He’s there.

               The apartment is empty without him. There is a lack of light, of warmth and laughter he had once radiated brilliantly. Eliza knows that this is for the best; for healing, for finding the light…for her. Her heart and her mind and her body pull toward him. The apartment is frightening without him. Living alone is a quiet she hadn’t wanted to feel. But her goal remains the same, through Alexander’s crestfallen eyes and her own tearing heart. This isn’t temporary. This isn’t over. This is a step in the right direction.

               And maybe, if she tells herself that enough, that little yellow light will cover her thick paper one day.