#this weekend is going to be both great (new haircut!!) and terrible (mothers day and i need to do my taxes I've been putting off)

[murderfabrication]

Murder Fabrication incorrect quotes

For some non-canon hilarious [...] fun.

Chapter 1 spoilers!

Akiro: We need an adult! Alice: I am an adult! Akiro: … Akiro: Another adult!

Mina: I'm gonna strangle you. Neo: You're not tall enough. Mina: YOU’VE SUNK LOW ENOUGH FOR ME TO REACH.

Jan: *falls* Alice: Did you just fall? Jan: Psh, of course not. I just attacked the floor. Alice: Backwards? Jan: I'm skilled.

Andi: You know, you’ve got to stop sending me these mixed messages. Keith: “I don’t like you” and “go away” are not mixed messages.

Benjamin: Okay Neo, you have 5 seconds to name 5 famous disasters. And.. go ! Neo: Vesuvius, Chicago fire, dinosaur asteroid, Titanic, and... um... your haircut.

"I had to take a sick day, I’m so sick of these people." – Lois

Neo: Are you okay? Isabella: I'm going to start charging people money to ask me that.

"Andi sneezed earlier and I accidentally said "shut the fuck up" instead of "bless you"." – Chris

"Am I bitter? Yes. But do I try to move on and let go of past anger? Well, actually no." – Isabella Neo: I like your new pants. Lois: Thanks! They were 50% off! Neo: I'd like them better if they were 100% off. Lois: The store can't just give away clothes for free. Neo: That's not what I meant... Lois: That's a terrible way to run a business, Neo.

Chris: Okay. Stay calm. Stay calm. Neo: I am calm. Chris: I'm talking to myself.

Monokuma: Ssshh, do you hear that ? That's the sound of forgiveness. Lois: That's the sound of people dying, Monokuma.

Alice: Andi, don't say a word. Andi: … Andi: Fergalicious. Alice: I said no words. Andi: Oh, I see. Two weeks ago playing Scrabble, it's not a word, and now suddenly it is a word because it's convenient for you.

Keith: I have feelings for you. Andi: You do?? Keith: Yes. I feel you’re a little annoying.

Andi: You have no style or sense of fashion. Benjamin: I think that depends on— Andi: No, no. That wasn’t a question.

Mina: Oscar and I have this kind of easy chemistry where we finish each other's-- Oscar: Sentences. Mina: Don't interrupt me.

"These so called 'feelings' are ruining my reputation as a heartless bitch" – Lois

Akiro: Is there a word that's a mix between angry and sad? Jan: Malcontented, disgruntled, miserable, desolated... Alice: Smad.

Neo: Hey, I'm going to Taco Bell, you want anything? Isabella: I want my girlfriend back. Neo: ... yeah I got like twelve dollars

Neo: I win. Noah: I have you pinned to the ground. Neo: I know.

Benjamin: That's a great dress, Lois, but I bet it would look even better on Neo’s floor! Lois: ... Neo: Are you...hitting on Lois...FOR me?

Emily: So I heard you like bad girls. Emily: Well, I'm bad at everything. Emily: *winks with both eyes*

Jan: Oh, dear. Alice: Jan, I told you, nobody our age says "Oh, dear". Jan: Oh, my. Alice: Or that.

Emily: So I've been thinking. Ciel: That's a first.

Lois: Seriously, all you do is bitch. Chris: I happen to bitch the perfect amount for someone in my situation!

Neo: It’s a package from Lois. Ciel: What is it? Neo: It’s heavy. Must be her disappointment in me.

Emily: Akiro, please teach me how to write ! Akiro: You just gotta... just pick up a pen... Akiro: Then cry for about four hours... Akiro: And then a book magically appears before you.

Emily: I made a marshmallow Chris ! Her arms are crossed because she's mad at all the other marshmallow people for annoying her. You like it? Chris: *choked up* It's fine.

Lois: Okay, emergency meeting! I need everyone to gather around me in order of how much I trust them. Benjamin: *gets close to her* Everyone else: *stays back*

Neo: Lois! You really do care! Lois: Yeah, I do. Tell anyone and I'll kick your ass. I have a reputation.

Keith: Andi? Andi: Yeah? Keith: Before we die, I just want to say... Andi: Yes? Keith: THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT!

Lois: I searched everywhere. Neo: What? Lois: I looked through hundreds of files. Lois: Searched through my text messages. Lois: I even searched my wardrobe. Lois: But I still couldn't find where I asked for your opinion. Neo: ...

Noah: It was for love! Mina: Cool motive. Still murder.

Neo: Am I supposed to feel intimidated by now? Because I kind of don't. Mina: Why not? Neo: Well for starters you're... what, fifteen years old? Mina: No! I'm fifteen and a half!

Neo: You broke into my room?! Benjamin: No, that would be wrong. I had a key.

Ciel: Emily, would you step outside for a moment? Emily: Why? Ciel: Because you irritate me.

Neo: Girls are so hot. Neo : Guys are hot too. Neo: Why is everyone so hot? Ciel: Global warming.

Emily: *takes a deep breath* Emily: I lo— Anyone who has spent five seconds around Emily ever: Yes, you love Isabella, we know, you love Isabella so much, she's the light of your life, your reason to live, you love her so much, you just LOVE Isabella, we KNOW, you love Isabella, you fucking love Isabella, okay, we know, we get it, yOU LOVE ISABELLA, WE GET IT.

Ciel: I need you to stay calm, okay? Chris: I'm just gonna stay angry. I find that it relaxes me.

Alice: Only geniuses can say these four words quickly. Eye. Yam. Stew. Pit. Chloe: Come on, no one's falling for tha- Emily: IAMSTUPID

Akiro : *softly but with a lot of feeling* Fuck.

Alice: Describe your ideal man. Akiro: He's dark and mysterious, and he can sing, and he plays the organ. Alice: I think you just described the Phantom of the Opera.

Isabella: Oh, yes, I'll live. Isabella: But I won't enjoy it.

Neo: Hey Jan, what’s your biggest fear? Jan: Being forgotten. Neo: Damn. That’s deep. Mine’s the Kool Aid man but I feel kinda stupid about it now.

Benjamin: So I walked into Neo’s room while he was asleep and I knocked something over and he said “if you're a ghost or some shit please fuck off I'm too tired for this”

Chloe: You were happy once, Isabella. Isabella: I was never happy. I was just less pissed off.

Oscar: Have a good day. Mina: Don't tell me what to do.

Alice: A guy from work is going out of town this weekend and wanted to know if we could take care of his child. Akiro: Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, that's a big responsibility. What do we know about children? Jan: I'm leaving. Bag? Akiro: [Hands Jan his backpack] I swear you'd lose your head if it wasn't screwed on. [To Alice] I don't know the first thing about taking care of a child. [To Jan] Where is your jacket? It's very cold outside. Jan: Forgot. Akiro: Here, take mine. [To Alice] Kids are a lot of work.

Emily: Come on. I didn't drink that much last night. Chloe: You were flirting with Isabella. Emily: ... So what? She’s my wife. Chloe: You asked her if she was single... and started crying when she said she wasn't.

Neo: So, what's it like dating Chris? Noah: Once, I asked her for a glass of water while she was pissed at me, and she brought me a glass full of ice and said "Wait."

[texting] Akiro: nose Akiro: I just typed nose with my nose! Jan: heart Akiro: WHAT THE FFUKC ARE YOU OK

Emily: There’s something on your mouth *kisses Isabella* Isabella: There’s something on yours too *kisses Emily* Andi: What the fuck do we even buy napkins for ?

Akiro: *exists* Everyone: So blessed. So moved. So grateful. Can't believe this is my life. Never going to take it for granted. Always going to give back. Thank you.

Keith: You're pretty dumb. Andi: Thank you. Keith: Why are you thanking me? I just insulted you. Andi: All I heard was "You're pretty". I'm focusing on the positives in life.

Isabella: *breathes* Emily: Flawless, fantastic, incredible, show-stopping.

Chris: Help! [Chris falls below the water, but Oscar pulls her up before she drowns] Chris : Oh Noah, you saved me! [She kisses Oscar on the cheek.] Oscar: Actually, it’s me. Chris: Oh… well… [chuckling embarrassedly] You can go ahead and let me drown now. Akiro: Some people give off a vibe of… right away it’s, “Don’t fuck with me” Akiro: My vibe is more like, “Hey, you could pour hot soup in my lap and I’ll probably apologize.”

Lois: Anything you say in the next thirty seconds is free, starting right now. Chris: I think you're cocky. Arrogant. Bossy and pushy. You also have a god complex and don't think of anybody but yourself. Lois: But-- Chris: But what? I still have twenty-two seconds, and I'm not done.

Alice: I am not a mother, I don't even have any children ! Andi: *passes her* 'sup Mom ? Alice: Oh, hey. Jan: Mom, is it okay if Akiro and I see the new Star Wars tonight ? Alice: Yeah, just be home by ten. Alice: Alice: Okay, listen

Emily: *running with something in her hand* Isabella: Let me see what you have. Emily: *excitedly* A knife! Isabella: NO!

Chris: We're not scared of you, Monokuma! Emily: I kind of am. Chris: Emily, shut the fuck up.

Keith: I loved playing doctor as a child. *flashback to young Keith with stethoscope and teddy bear* Keith: The cancer has spread. Get your house in order.

#murder fabrication #i think i'm funny #incorrect quotes #oc

[hawkland]

Secrets

Another submission from me for @svucharacterappreciation​ Fin week—this for the prompt “secretive”.

You can read this as either gen Munch & Fin, or pre-slash, as it fits into my Spaces in Between fic series on AO3. It is set in and around the season 3 episode “Counterfeit”.

Secrets

Fin was getting used to the sight of his partner hobbling around the bullpen on crutches. What had been ridiculous and giggle-inducing at first had since become part of the normal everyday workplace scenery—complete with Munch’s foot propped up on his desk and pointed directly in Fin’s face.

“Better be a clean sock,” Fin warned as John sat down—with not inconsiderable, awkward effort—and the foot resumed said position.

“Every morning. Though I can’t wait to take a normal shower again.”

“You and me both.”

As scary as it was to admit, Fin was starting to miss having John out in the field with him. And he still wished John would tell him what had happened, how he had managed to injure that foot in the first place.

His curiosity over Munch’s secretiveness about it was driving him crazy. Usually John would tell Fin everything that was going on in his life, whether Fin wanted to hear all the details or not. So the fact that he refused to reveal the truth over this one particular mishap was mystifying.

“How long you gotta stay in that cast?” Fin asked, for far from the first time. He kept hoping John would slip up in answering and give him some kind of clue to go on.

“Six more weeks.”

“Damn. You must’ve seriously done a number on that foot.”

“Mm,” John answered, noncommittal. He picked up a file from the leaning tower on his desk, and was almost convincing in feigning actual interest in his paperwork.

“Skiing,” Fin wagered.

John looked across at him, eyebrows slowly rising. “Excuse me?”

“You went off for a weekend skiing and that’s how you hurt it.” It was the middle of January and they’d had a fair amount of snow since the beginning of the year. It seemed a logical guess. Did Munch have a secret girlfriend he’d taken skiing on a romantic getaway? He had shown up with a new haircut, too, that first day he’d come in with cast and crutches.

For some reason Fin hoped that wasn’t the case. At least the part regarding the girlfriend. He wasn’t quite sure why. But he actually felt a bit relieved when John answered, “Nope. I haven’t been out on the slopes in years.”

Struck down once more. Fin shook his head. He had his own pile of DD-5s to complete, he should be doing his paperwork too, and yet… “Okay, I got it now. You were rearranging the bookshelves in your apartment. A heavy book fell on your foot.” He remembered John telling him recently how he’d gotten a new software program to organize his personal library—though he was anxious about using the online ISBN database in case the government was monitoring people’s choices in reading materials.

“Imaginative hypothesis, but wrong again.”

“Damn. C’mon, man, why won’t you just tell me what went down?” Fin was close to begging for the truth at this point. “It can’t be that embarrassing, not even if it happened during sex.” Fin hesitated, and remembered that this was Munch he was talking to. “It wasn’t during sex, was it?” he added. If it was, maybe that was something about which he didn’t want to hear.

“No. And trust me, if it was? It wouldn’t be the worst injury I’ve suffered in the boudoir.”

“Well you can save that story for some other time,” Fin replied, intrigued but not sure he wanted to go there in the middle of the workday.

“Perhaps. Though I’m thinking that my days of serious oversharing around this office are behind me. It’s not like my open-book nature has always been welcomed. Or returned in kind.” He added the last with another trademark Munch Expressive Eyebrow Gesture.

Fin sighed and rolled his eyes in response. “Are you still mad I didn’t tell you ’bout my son? Is that what this is all about?”

“I’m not mad, Fin. But I am a little…disappointed. I thought we were closer than that by now. That’s a pretty big secret to keep from your partner after all this time.”

Munch might not be “mad”, but he was definitely hurt. And doing a good job of making Fin feel guilty for it, what with that wounded puppy dog act. “Look, it’s just…me and my son, we’re not exactly on great terms these days.”

“Because of the divorce?”

“That, and a lot of other things. I…it’s…not somethin’ I like to talk about much, you know?” It was hard to admit to yourself you were a failure of a father, let alone admit it to someone else. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. Though, you know, you never asked if I had kids or not.”

John shrugged. “The fault of the childless, I suppose. We’re used to everyone who has children announcing it as soon as possible in any introductory conversation. I suppose I assumed you didn’t have any when you never brought it up on your own.”

“Hmph. Good point.”

“It’s just the one though, right? One kid?”

“Yeah, just one.” Fin paused, thinking of his son for a moment. He realized it was a little odd that he had a photo of his old dog on his desk, whom he still missed terribly after being gone for several years, but not one of his very own son. He played with the pen in his hand, clicking and unclicking the ink cartridge. “His name is Kwasi.”

“Kwasi Tutuola? Has a nice ring to it.”

“I thought so. He tends to prefer Americanizing it to Ken these days. And using his mother’s surname.” More ways to distance himself from me, Fin thought with regret, rejecting the name I chose for him and the name of his father’s family.

They both fell into silence for a while, as the rest of the squadroom buzzed with daytime activity around them. John eventually closed his file, dropped it on his desk, and sat staring at Fin until Fin realized he was under scrutiny. “I fell,” John said once he had Fin’s full attention again.

“What?”

“I fell. On a patch of ice outside my apartment building. I was rushing to get inside with some take-out I’d grabbed on the way home from work. Lost my balance, and like an idiot I worried more about trying to save the food instead of my own ass—or foot, as the case turned out to be. Ended up with a fractured ankle and egg drop soup all over my favorite winter coat.”

Fin could just picture it, and the mental image made it hard to stop himself from laughing. “Not nearly as glamorous as a sky diving accident, huh?”

“Not by a long shot. Though the more you and everyone else tried to guess what elaborate scenario had led to my misfortune, the more I started to enjoy not sharing the true story. Fiction can be much more entertaining than the truth. I could at least live vicariously through your creative imaginations.”

“So how do I know you’re telling me the truth now?” Fin asked.

“Because lying about something so pathetic wouldn’t be worth it. Would it?”

“Probably not.”

John leaned forward—as best as he could with his foot on the desk—and said in a low voice, “You sure you don’t want to hear the sex injury story?”

“NO. Not now. Please.” Fin then added with a sly smile, “Maybe later. If you want I can drive you home, pick up some Chinese, and you can tell me after egg rolls and peanut noodles. If it’s not gonna make me lose my appetite.”

“Depends. You might want to skip the egg rolls. In case they get…bent during transit.”

It only took a second for Fin to put two and two together and then—“Aw man, ouch,” he cringed, instinctively shifting in his seat.

“Sorry, but you set yourself up for that one. But don’t worry, it was only a temporary setback. Everything was fully functional again in no time at all.”

“That’s nice. But why should the state of your dick be any of my concern?”

“I’m assuming this is a conversation I don’t need to be overhearing,” Elliot said, having picked a very inopportune moment to be passing by.

“Keep walking,” John said, grabbing another file.

Fin made a mental note to find a photo of Kwasi to bring in, and show to John tomorrow.

Author’s note: Munch’s sex-related injury is a tiny reference to the Homicide: Life on the Street episode "Red, Red Wine". If you picked it up, then I send a bent balloon salute to you!

#svucharacterappreciation #fin tutuola #john munch #svu #svu fic

[theliterateape]

Harmless Experiment — A Terrible Serial Killer

by Erik Lewin

My mother had a great sense of humor. She appreciated funny movies, and she knew I loved them too. We’d go to the local theater sometimes. We didn’t have a lot of dough, my dad was an entrepreneur surviving week-to-week, but he still managed to buy my mom a sandy beige sports car. I think he knew what a pain in the ass he was to live with—that’s another story—so this was his tiny way of making amends.

My mom was a beauty. This was not my biased estimation, it was objective fact. She came from Israel as a little girl and her complexion was imbued with that light, dark sweetness. Her brown hair was long and very soft. She had high cheekbones too, so between all these traits, nobody could ever figure out where she was from. A true exotic. Most strikingly, her eyes were never accusing or threatening. They were innocent. Very smart too, and aware, which made their innocent quality all the more impressive. She chose to see the good in all things.

I have always had a thing for Chevy Chase movies. The weekend Spies Like Us opened, the one where he plays alongside Dan Aykroyd, was an absolute must see. The commercials looked hilarious and captivated my attention. I’d lay on the Berber carpet in our living room, propped up on two giant Persian pillows, and slide my little fingers over the channel switches on the black box remote. I kept clicking the different channels all day to catch another glimpse of the commercial with the Spies Like Us trailer. Naturally I was begging my mom to go to the theater, and it was an easy sell because she was into it too.

We jumped into the hot new car. My mom lit a cigarette, turned on the radio station WPLJ that played rock tunes–Bon Jovi’s Livin On a Prayer was released recently and came on–and we sang along to its rousing chorus. I rubbed my feet on the plush mat and didn’t even mind the cigarette smoke too much. When we got to the theater we discovered we weren’t the only ones excited about the movie–it sold out right after we got our tickets. They overbooked it, all the seats were taken, but we just sat on the floor in the back. We left in absolute stitches, joking about how we were about to pee ourselves during so many hilarious scenes in the movie.

Then I broke this piece of news to her: that I would need to purchase ten lab mice for a science fair experiment I was assigned to do with my friend, Sam. She groaned for a couple reasons–Sam and I couldn’t seem to stay out of trouble together–and mice? I assured her that Sam would actually give the mice, who were our test subjects and needed to be watched carefully–room and board at his parents’ house. I simply had to give him cash for the purchase, and after a little hesitation, mom forked it over for the mice, food and a cage.

Sam was one of my closest little buddies. We were kind of allies as inmates in a religious day school. We cracked jokes during daily services and passed notes during all our classes. The last time I slept over his place, we tossed huge water balloons at oncoming cars. We scored a direct hit on one Buick, the water splashing across the windshield, damn near causing the driver to crash right into a tree. He chased us back to Sam’s house. His mother caught us making this fast escape, and we giggled while the man barked that his life was almost cut short by a couple dumb kids.

We were also pretty poor students. In my case, I was severely challenged in math and science. It didn’t interest me, other than whether Lysol spray could actually make a fart catch fire. We had this total hot, bitchy lady for a science teacher. She was short with her students, always admonishing us to hand in our outstanding assignments.

The big thing was the science fair. It was a major part of the year’s grade, but more than that, it required an idea, a scientific experiment of some sort to actually do and then present to the school. You were allowed a partner. Sam and I teamed up and one day we hung around his place with his stepfather, Rick, who was in construction. We came up with this idea we thought would be so cool – Rick could help us build a maze out of wood and we could run mice through it. As stupid as that sounds, we took it to another level when we added the necessary ‘scientific experiment’ twist–we would split lab mice into two groups. One group would subsist on their usual diet, while we’d ply the other with drugs, then set both loose to see which performed better. In other words, how would a massive, continual injection of sugar affect the animals’ ability to negotiate the maze. The other test group would be cared for in the ‘normal’ fashion, as in, not torturing and slowly killing them. It was a fantastically idiotic idea that we set to work on with great relish. Rick helped us with the materials and the building of the maze, and we agreed that Sam would house them.

This plan worked… for a while. I’d go to Sam’s to work on our plan that violated every letter of the animal cruelty law. We named each mouse after a part of the name of our hero, New York Yankee Don Mattingly, whose name is forever tarnished. We gassed up half the mice with a dropper full of liquid sugar and got them crazy wired. We had to constantly adjust the dosage because at first, they were too overloaded and were climbing the walls of the maze, not trying to run through it. Meanwhile, the well-nourished group was struggling to escape, but were coming quite close. Turns out a diet of food and water is quite conducive to optimum performance.

All of this was working, actually–we recorded our observations in a notebook by each individual mouse and monitored their progress. It looked like we’d be okay. Then I got a phone call from Sam that his family had to go out of town for the weekend, unexpectedly, and asked if I could take the mice and keep them at my place.

I knew my mom wouldn’t be too thrilled but hey, it was for school, and they’d just be in the cage. I took the mice off Sam’s hands and left them in my room so my parents wouldn’t be reminded they now ran a rodent rescue. After I came back from school, it was time to avoid doing any homework, and go shoot some hoops in the playground. Sam called to check in and I assured him the mice were all fine, feeding away and rustling around in the cage. They were my test subjects and while I wouldn’t exactly call them cute, I was impressed with myself for having a real experiment in progress. I’d even begun to grow fond of the little guys.

When I came back from the playground, sweaty and hungry, I ducked into my room and undressed for the shower. It was eerily quiet. No rustling. The cage was empty! Nerves prickled my neck and arms. Holy shit… holy shit, I kept repeating in my puberty addled brain, investigating the cage for any magician’s trap door they may have slipped into, just having a little fun with Erik, when the cat’s away the mice will play, right?

They weren’t under the bed. They weren’t making a sound. Where the hell had seven lab mice gone? Then I heard bumping noises behind my dresser, which was long and wide and pushed up against the wall. I stuck my head in the crack and saw a couple of those suckers running back and forth along its length. We had trained them well. Then I heard the radiator clang. I got down on all fours and craned my neck under the bottom of the it, and sure enough, there was a hole in the wall! How many of our prize mice had made a daring POW escape to my neighbo’s apartment? It then occurred to me that the door to my room was open the whole time I’d been at the playground. The rest of them must be loose everywhere—

There were no options. I had to bring my mother into this. Better she know now, than to open a cupboard in the kitchen and have a mouse fly out of it. 

         “Uh, mom, you’re not gonna like this.”

         “You playing ball before homework? Not really. Get in the shower and get ready for dinner. No games, phone or TV. Do your homework.” She was busy in the dinette, with bills and papers spread out in piles under the warm yellow light. She dragged from a smoke and waved me away. 

         “But mom, you don’t understand.”

         “I understand fully well, young man, you weren’t suppo—”

         A tiny face with whiskers stuck its head out from under her papers.

         “Ahhhhhh!!!” She leapt from the chair.

         The little guy squeaked and ran around the table.

         “That’s what I was trying to tell you!” I laughed. “They’re out! They got outta the cage in a wild bid for freedom!” 

         “We have to catch them before your father comes home,” she said, the anger leaving her eyes in favor of its usual softness. She smiled. “Were there other sightings?”

         “My bedroom–the scene of the crime–I’ll show you.”

 After my mom surveyed the challenge facing us behind the dresser, and the hole in the radiator, she said: “We can’t have these guys getting a free ride, staying here like this and not paying any rent.” We giggled. “As far as the hole in the radiator, I think Mrs. Silvestry will finally have some of the company she’s always wanted.”

         “You’re not worried about the mice spreading around the building?” I asked.

         “What mice?” My mom said, crossing her arms. “Get dressed, we need to go to the pet store.”

 I threw my dirty clothes back on and we jumped in the car. We were at a pet shop next to my mom’s bank in five minutes flat. She instructed me to go in and procure traps–it was my mess and I needed to figure out how to clean it up.

         “What if we can’t round them all up? Should I get new mice?”

         “Not if you still want to live here.”

         “Ok, I’m going.” What the hell was Sam gonna say when I told him about the great escape?

         “Welcome to Pet land,” I heard when I walked in. I’d never had so much as a hamster, so this animal kingdom was totally foreign to me. Huge fish tanks, colorful birds squawking, reptiles, and the strange intermingled smells of different creatures surrounded me. I went to the front counter where the man had greeted me. He was in his late teens, mullet haircut, flannel cutoff at the arms, thin scruff under his chin. He had a look in his eyes like he could tell you exactly what it said when you played Ozzy Osbourne records backwards.

         “I need help. I’ve got a bunch of lab mice loose in my house.”

         “Alright, gotcha. So you need traps. Aisle three.”

         “Maybe you could… uh, do the traps keep them alive and unharmed? How does it work, I’ve never hunted an animal before.”

He spit out hubba bubba gum into his hand and tossed it in the trash.

         “You running a shelter? You set the traps and that’s that, they’re in there. Can’t get out. Our bestseller is the glue trap, they won’t get outta that, trust me. I’ll show you, this way.”

I was mortified. Back in the car I showed my mom the pile of glue traps we now had at our disposal. She nodded approvingly. We went back into my room and the kitchen and living room and set up all the traps like we were on some kind of commando mission. Apparently there was a substance on the surface of the glue that attracted the poor buggers to the trap. The good news was the traps worked. That was also the bad news because the actual glue doesn’t poison the mouse, but simply holds it in place while it thrashes about in a futile effort to free itself.

         “Your father will be home soon. You have to take care of it.”

         “How?”

         “Consider this part of the experiment.”

And so I went about the grim business of being the hatchet man for these mice. My sugar riddled mice, whom I’d actually grown fond of, were now in the hands of a monster. Because when each guy was on the glue trap, looking at me with its furtive, desperate eyes, I slid him down an incinerator shoot.

         “Mom, the good news is I’d make an awful serial killer,” I said, tears wetting my cheeks.

         “My poor baby,” she said, hugging me. “And you’ll never be a scientist. But, with these kinds of misadventures, you’ll tell some good stories, just like in our funny movies.”

BUY the BOOK

#Spies Like Us #mom #Science Fair #mice

[austin-and-sammo-blog]

Journal Entry -- 13th Month

It has certainly been a strange week. I've been something I'm not. I have been hardly productive, I have spent an enormous amount of time on my phone. Yasmine got back in contact with me finally which has been a massive relief. In fact, for the most part this week has been wonderful. I have felt very much like I'm back at peace with my life with Austin, Mattie, and Yasmine. I helped Matt again this week, and I think I did well and he thanked me, which definitely made me feel good. I made amazing progress in counseling this week, I feel like I'm finally getting answers. We touched on my past socially, and it seems that I have really really based my social progress using means with which I work towards my concrete goals, and it has become apparent that that is simply not the case. We talked about how everywhere I've been I've been met with a social cycle where I leave just as soon as real relationships were coming into being, and then I would leave and they would stay stagnant where they were, only the greatest of those relationships standing the test of time apart. We are going to explore in the coming weeks why I've been blaming myself and allowing this to toll my self confidence. But simply understanding this complex has been an immense relief, I feel like I understand myself more, and thus I can work with myself more. I wanted this to be sympathetic towards myself. Perhaps it will be, but it will do so in a better way. But I cannot write this about myself without acknowledging all the good things I have to be grateful for. I woke up today ready to make it a bad day. I woke up today and focused right on how Austin hadn't replied to the snap I sent last night. I made an overwhelming deal out of it. I waited to see if he would ever reply on his own and then there came a point in time when I realized that wasn't going to happen, and I started to shake with nervousness and anxiety and I confronted him about it and instantly turned on myself because I realized the only bad aspect of that situation was the way I made it out to be. But even so Austin was tremendously understanding of it, he admitted to his mistake and was sorry for it, that I definitely believed. He called me to make sure I was alright. I love him so much. I have a father who kept his word today, giving me the money I needed to purchase my transcripts to add to my transfer applications. I need to be grateful for my mother who sent me money in a Valentine's day card that means I can still get a haircut next week. I have an amazing friend with whom I spend my time with here, Mattie has made SMU more comfortable for me and I would easily be in a terrifying place if she were not here. I'm grateful for my brother, I think we are more alike than anyone else, he is someone who understands and I can go to with things I'm interested in. I'm grateful for God, who has brought these amazing people into my life. I'm grateful because there have been so many mistakes that could have been worse, so many blessings that could've easily passed me by. I'm forever grateful to that Man who has made me who I am and the life I'm surrounded with. Now I can step back and pity myself. Now that I know my life is actually pretty good and that I have amazing people who are there for me. Sometimes I feel quite alone, many times I feel that way here at SMU. When Austin is with people I constantly think, "why don't I have that?" I get impatient with myself because he has already been able to make some amazing friends at ECU. The counselor helped me realize that my experience at Havelock, where I found my best friends within a couple of weeks, has set my expectations far too high for the other places I've gone. Williston and SMU have both been tremendous cases of disillusionment. But it could be worse. I still have people in my life who care about me, all over the country. My social progress was never hindered, it was simply spread out amongst far too many places. That is why I'm transferring, it's high time I settle down and make some real progress. That's what I really want, and I'm in the process. I like to dream of my life at UNC Chapel Hill. A nice college town with the feel of ECU, with the tremendous opportunity of their award winning business school, being close to Austin seeing him every couple of weekends. Getting to spend our anniversaries better like we've hardly had the chance to before. I sometimes think about how Austin and I have flipped sides. His experiences at ECU seem to be a very mirror image of my last year at Williston. It frustrated me because he seems so strong now, and when he doesn't reply I suppose that's a factor in why I feel hurt. It seems to me that he isn't replying very much because his life is better, and I focus so much on it because my situation is not so fortunate. But while that may have been true at one point, and may in part be true now, I certainly have a better situation now. I have my friend Mattie and the friends I'm meeting through her. I have so much in this life and I take it for granted many times, when I know for certain that there were points in my life when I wished for all the things I have now. I have focused quite a bit in my life about things and people I don't have. That is no way to live. I remember my senior year of Williston being one of the best in my life. Why is that though? Because I also distinctly remember many afternoons between classes and sports when I would go back to my room and nap or cry. I remember many nights when I would be up for hours on end, struggling not to sob because I had too much work to get done. I was sad because I didn't have what other people had. I didn't feel like I belonged with the group of friends I was with. I didn't feel like many people at that school liked me, and there was a constant pressure of that. My work was my distraction, my sports kept me sane and sociable. I remember my life at Havelock as some of the best times of my life. I remember all the great times I spent with my friend group and how much fun I had. It seems I had forgotten that New Year's eve when I didn't want to make it to the next year. I forgot all those nights I cried because I didn't have Zachariah. I remember becoming mentally sick over him...doing horrible things that I will not even let myself think of. I remember one day I went back to Apex, thinking that place was so high and mighty, and it reminded me of how I cried myself to sleep night after night and was haunted by the fact that I was gay. It seems like every other period of my life was far better, and that I have somehow gone backwards to this point. In some ways that may be true. I wish I had more friends, a friend group that I can really relate to and hang out with a lot like Austin has. I get so jealous about that, that Austin was able to move schools once and stumble upon a group of friends he literally hangs out with for a good chunk of every single day, and he found those people in a matter of months. I find myself here without many good friends, without many people that seem to want my company. Austin says its the sense of humor that gets people on board. I might agree, it seems the more lighthearted I am the more people wanted to be around me. I think the more lighthearted I was was the time those memories stuck around, to form all those impressions that my past was filled with good times. And yet there is a lesson in this I think. Perhaps all those times I was feeling terrible within those good times, all those times all I could see is what I wanted, how I wasn't hanging out with people and how it seemed I couldn't find people that sought after my company, perhaps those times weren't so bad. Perhaps my situation now isn't so bad either. What if I look back on where I am now in the future and say "what a wonderful time that was." Because really, there is so much good around me. Austin and I are better together than any other point in our relationship. We have transcended cheating, mental illness, being separated for far too long, the frustrations of living together for the first time, and helping each other through our own life struggles. We have been through much and grown beyond it all, I really do find it hard to believe that I have been blessed with such an amazing person. And it amazes me, it frightens me often, how quickly I can lose sight of all of that, quickly judge him as not being good enough to me. Things as simple as he won't reply in a timely fashion, that time when he decided to do laundry instead of be prompt in picking me up. When he doesn't pay attention to me or contribute enough to the conversation over FaceTime. When he forgetfully leaves something on read, probably was intending on replying, but simply forgot. I assume the worst motives with him, trying to find reasons why he would do me wrong. Perhaps that's what I've trained myself to expect from people I love, not ever receiving the attention and love I want because they were straight. Perhaps I expect more from him because I remember distinctly the Austin that texted and snapped all the time. In fact, if I were to say there was one dominant factor in why I didn't struggle through tears everyday at Williston in the spring is because of Austin. Even when he was at school we would text and snap constantly. Where has that gone? They say there's a cupcake stage, and perhaps that is all it was. Even so, he has been really understanding lately, and I have seen a drastic change in how much he's texted and snapped me. Sometime's I'll call him out over Facetime or when he's with his friends by how much he's changed since he went to ECU, but of course I knew he would. When I mention it it makes him uncomfortable, just like it made me uncomfortable when I heard it after going to Williston. People change. I wonder if I have changed him at all. I remember how he used to struggle so much missing me when I would leave in the spring of last year. I remember how much he would mention how I didn't have time for him. That had to hurt, in many ways I've perceived it that I feel the way he did then. That's why I think we've switched places. Sometimes I wonder if this is what I deserved, perhaps I could have treated him better, especially at the end of the summer. An interesting thing I've noticed is what we've talked about. I think when we were first getting to learn each other, we'd talk a lot about ourselves. I was constantly trying to learn more about him, in all honesty I was desperate to fall in love with him like he fell in love with me. But that is a separate point. The point I'm making now is I have found that the vast majority of things I talk about with Mattie include Austin in one way or another. That one counselor that I texted during the end of my winter break smacked me with the question "Who are you without him?" Like I just gawked at my phone for five minutes I had no idea how to even react. I have become so absorbed by Austin since I fell for him. When I was helping Matt this week I blatantly told him that his animosity towards his girlfriend is not a product of love for her, but an obsession with being loved by her because he couldn't love himself. I think I have found it hard to love myself in the past several months. I constantly beat myself up for cheating on Austin. When I went to college I cheated on him more because I wanted to break things off with him because I didn't think I deserved him, I felt so bad after the incident with Lawson. I hated myself for not loving Austin. I hated myself for being frustrated with him. Then when I came to SMU I beat myself up immensely over my failure to make real friends. I took their reactions of ignoration to heart and slowly drew back into myself. I stopped going out and I stopped trying. I gave up and concluded that people here did not like me. At that time Austin and I were on not so good terms still. I was pushing him away and breaking his heart with ideas of taking a break. I was being a complete asshole. When I had heart he cheated on me there too, I was really relieved that I wasn't the only criminal in the relationship anymore, but I also confirmed to myself that I was no longer being a good boyfriend if he was able to do that to me. I remember that weekend, I revealed the other part of myself. The part of myself that wasn't all jokes and laughter and lightheartedness. I exposed my soft side, I exposed how philosophical I was and how driven I was for the future. That was the first time he had ever ignored me. He left me on read and I quickly became desperate for answers, I wanted him so desperately to love this side of myself... When he ignored it it reminded me much of Zachariah when I would get emotional or philosophical, and I quickly became distraught over the idea that I was pushing away Austin with this side of myself. It's strange how just one or two days after that event I realized I had fallen in love with Austin Gibson. I've often wondered if I fell in love with Austin because he played hard to catch, I wonder if I fell for him because it seemed he was not loving me at that time. It reminded me of how I fell in love with Zachariah and Jacob, and how they both did not love me. But I must also remember that I fell in love with those two because they had been kind to me, I fell in love with them because at first they had sought after my company, and made me feel wanted. Austin definitely made me feel that way in our early relationship, very much so actually. And I think that's why I was so into the relationship at the time. All that time I knew I wasn't ready to love him because I was skeptical he was just having a first boy-stage that he would eventually fall out of. But I was enjoying it the whole time because we were in that cupcake stage and he was showing me all the attention I wanted. I remember that time so well because I had someone who treated me the way I wanted to be treated. I felt bad that I didn't always have the time to reply to him constantly, but I honestly felt so good that I had someone that wanted me replying to them that much. When he ignored me that fall break I thought I had lost that. Over the next couple of days we talked on FaceTime for the first time in a good while, we talked it out and that's when I really started learning that he wasn't well versed in helping someone through that kind of thing. But I saw that he did care, that he was genuinely trying, and was working to learn this new side of me. Such the same I was starting to learn the side of him that would be dealing with me. After fall long weekend I started to really focus on how he would not reply so quickly, in fact he really seemed to be replying a lot less than he did before that weekend which had an immense effect on me. Months later I would learn that Austin was driven to continue to cheat on me in those initial months. When I first learned that I would think so much about how he must've been ignoring me in that time to text and snap these other guys. I remember trembling when I first went through his computer, and how much time I spent trying to convince myself I was just making things up...until I saw actual pictures. He had snapped these guys and they snapped him back. I have mental images of Austin sending them the eggplant emoji. I'm glad it went no further than text, at least I pray to God it never did. It hurt so much because I know he was doing that after that fall break weekend. After we admitted our wrongs to each other and forgave each other, after we both promised to communicate more and tell each other if it ever happened again. I wonder if he would've ever confessed had I not found that myself. He wanted to hide it from me because he didn't want to hurt someone who was already paranoid. Yet he was still texting one of those guys over the winter break, someone he shouldn't even know. Someone he should have no contact with, and he was texting him while I was there. He would delete those texts, he deliberately hid it from me. That's what hurt most, he hid it from me. And maybe learning all that did make my paranoia worse. But I know how easy it is to make that mistake. I know how easy it is to be tempted, and to think nothing of it because guys watch porn as it is and it's really no different if everything is just over the phone. Writing this is drawing up some old feelings and I'm not really sure I want to continue with it. If I remember correctly I was trying to get to the bottom of the reason why I'm so quick to judge Austin as not doing enough. I touched on my experience with love before Austin, my low self esteem at the time I fell in love with him, the uncertainty I had of sharing the rest of my personality with him and the fact that he pushed it away at first, the fact that he cheated on me continuously after I stopped making that impression resurrect during winter break. And yet according to him he's "changed." I put that in quotes just like he did, because it's passé. It's passe because its been said so much and upheld so little. But I can see the change. He looks at me with that intense feeling of love again. We get so gushy with our love texts again. He made me this jar of memories which made me melt on the spot. I don't give him enough credit. He texts and snaps back thousands of times more than he did before. When he's not tired he does participate quite a bit in Facetime. He has lost that sense of aversion towards me he carried before I exposed his cheating. It seems before that night I brought it up that he was always skeptical I was being skeptical of him. I don't even know how to describe it but I could literally feel his inner tension over it. We cried for so many nights after I exposed him. I found it very hard to cry when he was crying. I suppose I cried because I couldn't feel he cared. His tears proved other wise. Each day I would stumble upon other concepts of what him cheating on me at that time meant, and I kept breaking my own heart with those revelations over and over again. I suppose the best evidence that I have been seeking out reasons to prove Austin isn't being a good boyfriend is when I went back through his computer and phone and started shaking when I found an old snap stream he simply forgot to block. I saw some texts in there that terrified me, and I found some texts that sounded like he was meeting with someone when it was actually just a classmate. Austin quickly proved to me that what I saw really wasn't cheating. But this stands as the best example that I've been jumping to conclusions. So what is the solution to this bad habit? What is the solution to me not breaking down for two hours in the middle of the day because he accidentally didn't reply to a snap I sent him? I think doing this has actually helped. I think this journal has actually helped. I think what I need to be doing more is seeing the ways he has improved. Such the same goes for my life situation, I need to see all the good that has come into my life, all the ways it has improved. I keep looking for new ways that my life isn't good enough, new ways that Austin isn't being good enough. Neither of those are warranted, I just need to see the good I already have. I keep comparing myself to others, what they have going for them that I don't. But I need to be comparing myself with myself and my past, how much I've grown, how much Austin and I have grown together. There may be things that have gone backwards, that happens. But that is no reason to be afraid.. If they happened before they can happen again. That goes for both the bad and the good. The important thing to do is focus on the good we have, and do positive actions towards making those things better. Positive actions do not include guilt tripping Austin, making him feel inadequate, making him feel like he should be doing more. Positive actions mean being grateful for what Austin has been doing, and having rational, real conversations with him about anything going on right now that can be improved. Spraying him with criticism is not going to do anything but meet resistance because that's human nature. I felt the same way sometimes in the spring. So I need to work with him, not yank him to where I want him to be, but let him know I want him a little more here or a little more there, and to make sure I'm listening when he says the same to me. I suppose it's going to be a process. There is nothing that can really help me instantly be better to him. It's going to take constant pressure from myself to be reasonable with him. To send another random text or snap to him to remind him to reply without calling him out for not replying. To just accept his little habits and accept him for who he is and remind myself that he really does love me and that's why he's stuck around for so long and is so willing to stick around indefinitely. I need to remind myself that he means nothing he does or doesn't do personally, he doesn't even mean anything by most of it. If I were as busy as he I would probably be as forgetful as he is. And that doesn't mean I should beat myself up for not having as much going on as he does either. I need to love him, remember his love, and remember to love myself. I am not in such a bad position, my failure to instantly make friends like Austin is not a reflection of myself as a person, which is something I definitely need to constantly remind myself of. I need to be more patient, and I need to consume my time with things I like to do. I have a business idea I want to execute, I have clubs I'm a part of, I have plenty of school work to keep me busy. And it's okay if I slip up like I did today, I need to remember that it's not the end of the world when I feel bad for a day or two or three. I've made so much progress over the past couple of months and I'm going to keep making progress so long as I keep remembering what I'm fighting for. I'm fighting to be a good friend, a good person to myself, and most importantly a good boyfriend. I love Austin so so much, like honestly the only reason I'm struggling with all of this is because I want to be with him for so long. The only reason I get hyper critical is because I miss him and want to talk to him more and more. Who knows? Maybe life in North Carolina will make it easier. Let this long ass journal be a testament to me trying everything in my power to make things as best as they can be. This has been revealing for myself, I think. I really have found some solace in seeing everything written out, all my feelings and memories of my time with Austin and my time away from Austin. I did this because I want to be a better boyfriend, I did this because I want to be a better person in general. This has offered me much clarity, maybe it will for you too.