#themonstrovs

‘ She's a bad mama jama Just as fine as she can be ‘

         A slick, ridiculously expensive black car pulled to a stop outside the Gotham Royal Hotel. The driver smiled at the woman on the sidewalk and coyly asked,’ You looking for a ride?’ 

        He awakened to the prodding, if not gently placed touches of her fingers. Rolling over he spurted,’ I”m awake.’ He said, turning to look at the woman. 

themonstrovs replied to your post “why is harlow so beautiful? it's not fair.”

( vivette: he's par for the course, don't get excited. )

‘ of course not, why would you? ‘ her tone was angry, her intent sarcastic, as she folded the laundry on their bed. they were kid-free for the night, and this is how they were spending it — lisa was at a sleepover, and junior was spending the night with his nonna, her mother’s gesture of kindness, to give husband and wife some alone time.

which frank thought might be an appropriate time to tell her he was deploying again. and in an instant, it had soured everything: his mood, her mood, and a dark pall hung over the house.

‘ why would you think of anyone but yourself? it is, after all, all about frank david castle. ‘ she snapped the wrinkles out of one of his shirts, before folding the olive drab cotton and putting it on the pile with the others. ‘ don’t worry about the fact that your kids ask me when you’re retiring. don’t worry about the fact that i’d like to sleep in bed next to my husband for more than three weeks out of the year. don’t worry about the fact that i am doing everything in this house. no, don’t worry about a damn thing, just do whatever you want, frank. ‘

she folded another t-shirt before turning to take the pile with her as she headed to the dresser, opening it and putting them in his drawer. ‘ i might as well have married myself, since i’m responsible for everything, the accounting, the kids, the house, my own orgasms. ‘ she took another pile of clothing from the laundry basket, to fold, her anger simmering under her skin, her blood boiling. but in true maria fashion, she wasn’t yelling, she wasn’t cussing, she wasn’t pressing the proverbial blade to his throat.

He didn’t have to go back to Vietnam for the third time. His superiors had already told him he should spend the rest of his time with his family. Marine Recon was enough, they said. But something inside Frank was bothering him -- it seemed like Vietnam was calling for him again, and his ache for the battlefield only increased during his second tour.

That scenario, the family man, wasn’t working anymore. He wasn’t happy inside a house, trying to deceive himself he should be there for Maria and the kids.

Nobody understood him. Nobody would tell him he was right to seek for war -- unless that person was Colonel Nick Fury. He could clearly say that due to Maria’s reaction to him deploying again. Frank was addicted to the bloodshed Vietnam was providing, and he knew he should have stopped fighting at war when his first tour was over. Dryden, his sergeant from the first tour, warned him about it.

Don’t re-enlist, Ell Tee. You’re going to get addicted. I’ve seen people succumb because of that, those were Dryden’s words echoing in his head like a lecture. But he believed he could have saved more men of his platoon if he had stayed for another tour. And he did. And it costed his liberty. Mostly because his second tour was very different from the first one.

Black-ops messed up with his head.

( fee fee fixes it: flash has a big dick. )

// She’s right and she should say it.

( freya: stop fucking eating living things, you fucking weirdo. FUCK. )