#FUCK MY STUPID FISH FILLET LIFE

[sharffffff]

4C: I knew it was Zam's but I didn't know if he wanted anyone else there.

4C: Well it looked like he wanted people there but I didn't know if he would want me there.

4C: But I wanted to support him in some way.

[detective-inspector-her]

ValSkug Merge Incorrect Quotes Part 2

Ghastly : Valkyrie, what did you just do!?

Valkyrie : I took your advice. I stopped running from the problem and I tackled it head on.

Ghastly : I meant try emotional honesty, not murder!!

Skulduggery's house is on fire, but they don't know it

Ghastly : Damn, it's hot in here.

Valkyrie: I know, it's so hot there's smoke coming out of the vent!

Ghastly :

Ghastly : First of all, I'm assuming you have no idea what the problem with that statement is.

Valkyrie: What?

Ghastly : Second of all, we need to get the fuck out of here, NOW.

Ghastly : Yes, I'm adopting Valkyrie and you cowards can't tell me no!

Ghastly : Valkyrie, we tried things your way.

Valkyrie: No, we didn't.

Ghastly : I did it in my head and it didn't work.

Valkyrie: Standing next to sunflowers always makes me feel weak like ‘look at this fucking flower. This flower is taller than I am. This flower is winning and I’m losing.’

Solomon: Wow, you are not ready to hear about trees.

Valkyrie: Eat shit and die, Solomon!!!

Solomon: Eat shit and live, Valkyrie.

Valkyrie: I made lightly fried fish fillets for dinner.

Solomon: Valkyrie, It’s 1:15 am, what the fuck.

Valkyrie: Do you want the lightly fried fish fillets or not.

Solomon: Well, I mean yeah.

Valkyrie: So come downstairs while they’re still hot.

Solomon: Wait, you just made them?

Valkyrie: Yeah, I wasn’t tired so I decided to make lightly fried fish fillets.

Solomon: Say lightly fried fish fillets one more time Valkyrie.

Valkyrie: Isn't it amazing how I can feel so bad and still look so good?

Skulduggery: It's certainly a miracle.

China, about to leave the house: Don’t spend all day watching YouTube, okay?

Valkyrie: I FORGE MY OWN PATH!!

Valkyrie: No, I don't want to talk about physics! I don't know anything about the laws of physics because they are hard and boring. I simply would like them to behave in a way that is most convenient to ME and MY LIFE! Is that really asking too much?

China: Yes, as a matter of fact, it is!

Valkyrie: Well, guess what? Science is stupid bullshit!!

China: You take that back!!!

Valkyrie: No. Magic is awesome. Science blows. The end.

China: You need to stop swearing so much.

Valkyrie: Shut the fuck up.

China: Yeah, that's not how you do it.

Valkyrie: Alright sorry. It's just that it's hard not to swear. The words just creep up on me when I least expect it.

China: Now now, don't be like that. Just replace the swear words with 'beep' and you'll be fine.

Valkyrie: Shit the beep up.

China:

Valkyrie: SHUT, DAMMIT! I MEANT SHUT!

Valkyrie: Hello China, made anyone cry today?

China: Sadly, no. But it’s only 4:30.

China: You don’t deserve me.

Valkyrie: At your worst or your best?

China: I don’t have a worst.

Valkyrie: Because you’re already at your worst?

Fletcher: So… what would you do if you were in bed with me?

Valkyrie: Depends. Is your bed comfortable?

Fletcher: Yes.

Valkyrie: I'd sleep.

Valkyrie: Remember, Fletcher, don't do anything I wouldn't do.

Fletcher: I think I crossed that line when I got a date.

Valkyrie: Hey, about that love letter you sent me-

Fletcher: blushes What are your thoughts?

Valkyrie: The fourth sentence-

Fletcher: Yeah, that’s where I got really emotional and I-

Valkyrie: It’s “you’re” not “your”.

Valkyrie: Did you know you remind me of all 26 letters of the alphabet?

Fletcher: What? Like J F K W S Q X-

Valkyrie: No, like, U R A Q T.

Fletcher: Awwww!

Valkyrie: I fell—

Fletcher: From heaven?

Valkyrie: No, I literally fell—

Fletcher: In love with me the moment you saw me?

Valkyrie: MY ARM IS BROKEN!

Fletcher: Okay, but do you think I'm pretty? Be honest.

Valkyrie: I love you.

Fletcher, not paying attention: What was that?

Valkyrie: I said I’m selling you to the zOo-

Valkyrie: If I didn't know better, Fletcher, I'd say you were scared.

Fletcher: Heh, scared?

absolute silence

Fletcher: DID YOU HEAR THAT?!

Valkyrie: Ok so, apparently the "bad vibes" I've been feeling are actually severe psychological distress.

Fletcher: When's the last time you slept?

Valkyrie: Uh… a few days ago, I think.

Fletcher: A few- how many?!

Valkyrie: Uh… starts counting on fingers I need more fingers…

Fletcher: What you need is sleep!

Skulduggery: Valkyrie, I don’t think I can handle any more of your tomfuckery.

Valkyrie: Oh yeah? Well I can keep going until you’re all tomfuckered out!

Skulduggery: Your future self is talking shit about you right now.

Valkyrie: Jokes on them. I'll ruin their fucking life.

Skulduggery: Come on, Valkyrie! How any times do I have to apologize?

Valkyrie: Once!

Skulduggery: …No.

Skulduggery: May luck (and this picture of Valkyrie eating shredded cheese at 3 in the morning) be with you.

Valkyrie: I want to grow up and be like Skulduggery!

Skulduggery: That is called Acquiring Depression.

Valkyrie: I'm going to get myself some soup.

Skulduggery: Be careful not to burn yourself, it's hot.

Valkyrie: Pfft, I won't burn myself.

30 seconds later

Valkyrie, entering the room: I burned myself.

Valkyrie: Do you want to play 20 Questions?

Skulduggery: Sure!

Skulduggery: Whats your favorite color?

Valkyrie, laser fucking focused: Triangle. Do you like men?

Darquesse, bursting into the room: You two are having sex!

Nefarian, not looking up from their book: Really? Skulduggery, why didn’t you tell me? I would have put my book down.

Skulduggery: is wearing silk pants How does this look?

Nefarian: Like its slips on and off really easily.

Skulduggery:

Nefarian: No, I didn't mean it like that-

Valkyrie: We know what you meant.

Darquesse: How do you tell someone that you wanna have sex with them in a polite way?

Skulduggery: Excuse me Mx. Would you give me the honours of indulging in sexual activities with you?

Valkyrie: What the fuck is wrong with you two?

Valkyrie: Who would you swipe right for? Nefarian or Skulduggery?

Darquesse: I would delete the app.

Valkyrie: Hey, Skulduggery, remember how I had to go to the pharmacy to pick up my ADHD meds?

Skulduggery: Yes?

Valkyrie: Well, it turns out they're all out for the next five days.

Skulduggery: Fuck.

Valkyrie: It's gonna be a fun week!

Skulduggery: I'm going to ask Darquesse to destroy my soul.

Valkyrie: Nuh-uh. Through sickness and health, motherfucker.

Valkyrie: I truly go into housewife mode when I'm someone's soulmate- like, I'll make you pancakes and bacon every morning.

Fletcher: This is a lie.

Fletcher: I'm literally dating them. This is a lie.

Fletcher: THEY DON'T EVEN KNOW HOW TO COOK A PANCAKE, WHAT IS THIS.

Nefarian: Look, I know you think my judgement's clouded because I like #### a little bit.

Valkyrie, holding Nefarian's notepad: You doodled your wedding invitation.

Nefarian: No, that's our joint tombstone.

Valkyrie: My mistake.

Valkyrie: If I see a bug, I simply leave the room elegantly and require someone else do something about it.

Valkyrie: If no one fulfills my wish, I simply never go back in there.

Nefarian: I only have 6 weeks left to live.

Darquesse: Oh my god, really?!

Nefarian: It's just a guesstimate based on the choices I've made.

Valkyrie: Hi, I'm Nefarian's emergency contact.

Counter Woman: You're here to pick him up?

Valkyrie: I'm here to remove myself as his emergency contact.

Skulduggery: Do you ever get pre-annoyed? Like you already know someone is going to piss you off?

Darquesse: What? No, I—

Nefarian: enters room

Skulduggery: jaw clenches

Skulduggery: Hey, quick question. How petty am I allowed to be?

[gcldfanged]

for Ravid and Jae

INCORRECT QUOTES GENERATOR [ACCEPTING]

Ravid: Wait, what's going on? Are we all talking about how hot Jae-hyo is? Because Jae is a straight up sexual fox riding a red-hot nuclear bombshell right toward the Yowza Plaza in the heart of Babe City, ASSachusetts, USA. The last 'A' just stands for more ass.

-

Jae-hyo: I made lightly fried fish fillets for dinner. Ravid: It’s 1:15 am, what the fuck. Jae-hyo: Do you want the lightly fried fish fillets or not. Ravid: Well, I mean yeah. Jae-hyo: So come downstairs while they’re still hot. Ravid: Wait, you just made them? Jae-hyo: Yeah, I wasn’t tired so I decided to make lightly fried fish fillets. Ravid: Say 'lightly fried fish fillets' one more time, Jae.

-

Ravid: *getting ready for an undercover mission* There- How do I look? Jae-hyo: Like a cheap French harlot. Ravid: French?!

-

Jae-hyo: As the Top in this relationship, I think we should- Ravid: I can't believe you're pulling rank on me.

-

Ravid: We all have our demons. Ravid: *grabbing Jae-hyo* This one’s mine.

-

Ravid: I would let you ruin my life. Jae-hyo: Sorry, I’m too busy ruining my own- You’ll have to wait.

-

Ravid: I’ve been dropping the most insanely obvious hints for like, a year now. No response. Jae-hyo: Wow. They sound real fuckin' stupid. Ravid: But they’re not! They’re really smart, actually. Just a little... dense? Jae-hyo: Maybe you need to be more obvious? Like, I don’t know… “Hey, Dumbass! I love you!” Ravid: I guess you’re right... Hey, Jae-hyo? I love you. Jae-hyo: See! Just say that! Ravid: ... are you fucking serious right now. Jae-hyo: I mean, if THAT flies over their head? Sorry, man, they're just too dumb to deserve you. Ravid:

[azar-rosethorn]

More Most Wanted Incorrect Quotes

Karai: Valentine’s day is just a consumerist holiday that holds no real value other than drive people insane buying heart shaped chocolates for their significant others and pos-

April: I wrote you a poem.

Karai, already crying: You did?

--

Casey: We have a problem.

Raph: No, YOU have a problem. I have an idiot who keeps making them.

--

Karai: Who's in charge here?

Raph, shrugging: Usually whoever yells the loudest.

--

Casey: I’m so tired.

Donnie: Did you get to bed late?

Casey: No.

Donnie: Did you do something strenuous?

Casey: No.

Donnie: Then why are you tired?

Casey: I’m alive.

Donnie: Sounds exhausting.

--

Draxum: Don’t worry, I have a permit.

Mikey: ...This just says “I can do what I want”.

--

Draxum: *visiting the squad* Hello, I just came to-

Draxum: *sees Donnie shoving Leo into the washing machine while Raph records and Mikey watches*

Draxum: *retreating* Something suddenly came up.

--

Leo: Are we really going to let Raph keep Casey?

Splinter: We kept April.

--

Karai: I’m gonna mix a can of Red Bull with seventeen shots of espresso in a fishbowl and then chug it while Kids by MGMT plays in the background so I can perceive twenty-three spatial dimensions and fight my own soul.

--

Splinter: We've got to find a way to cut down our expenses. What can we live without?

Mikey: Raph, probably.

--

Karai: Please pray for Leo.

Casey: What happened to them?

Karai: Nothing, they’re just very stupid.

--

Mikey: I made lightly fried fish fillets for dinner.

Splinter: Mikey, It’s 1:15 am, what the fuck.

Mikey: Do you want the lightly fried fish fillets or not.

Splinter: Well, I mean yeah.

Mikey: So come downstairs while they’re still hot.

Splinter: Wait, you just made them?

Mikey: Yeah, I wasn’t tired so I decided to make lightly fried fish fillets.

Splinter: Say lightly fried fish fillets one more time Mikey.

--

Karai: Life is like Mikey. It's short.

--

Leo: I think I need a hug...

Raph: Good thing I'm hug shaped!

*45 minutes later*

Leo: You... you can let go now.

Raph: No, I absolutely cannot.

--

April: *slams down an absolute doorstopper of a tome* I checked this out weeks ago for a bit of light reading.

Casey: This is light?!

--

Draxum: Knock, knock.

Mikey: Who's there?

Draxum: Boo!

Mikey: Boo who?

Draxum: Why are you crying?

Mikey: I'm not crying.

Draxum: Hello notcrying, I'm Draxum.

--

April: Where are you going?

Raph: To either get ice cream or commit a felony. I'll decide on the way.

--

April: Love makes people do stupid things.

Mikey: I love everything!

April: That explains a lot.

--

Donnie: There's no meeting today because Casey is at the police station.

April: They're in jail?!

Leo: We have to get them out!

Mikey: Jailbreak! I'm in!

Leo: I'll dress up and distract the guard!

Mikey: Ooh, I'll bake some food to help distract ALL the guards!

April: I guess I could bring my frying pan in case we need a shield to keep us from being shot-

Donnie: No! Casey wasn't arrested! They're undercover, taking the system down from the inside. They don't need our help!

--

Leo: How late were you up last night?

Donnie & Splinter, in tandem: Me?

Leo: No, not you two. You stay up late all the time.

Leo, to Mikey: You.

--

Splinter: Are you really planning to shoot the demon?

Raph: Don't worry, it's a holy gun.

Splinter: How so?

Raph: It makes holes.

--

*April and Casey looking at a locked gate into a park*

April: Aw. :(

Casey: You know what they say.

April: Please don’t-

Casey: BE GAY DO CRIME! *hops gate*

April: Frick-

--

Raph: I need life advice.

Splinter, sipping Gatorade and eating cookie dough: You came to the right person.

--

Leo: I still don’t have a New Year’s resolution.

Mikey: You could lose a few.

Casey: You could be less lazy.

Raph: Don’t be such a bitch.

Leo: Okay DAMN, SHIT.

--

Casey: My ultimate goal is to punch God in the eye, just to spite him one last time.

--

(Pssst if u like these guys go check out my askblog for them)

[chardou15]

Shattered Memories - Ch. 1

Chapter summary: Nuyia helps Miles to recover from his wounds and Quaritch noticed he could use her for personal circumstances.

[1,412 words]

Pairing: Na'vi Quaritch x Na'vi Fem OC

Skxawng – an idiot; a moron

Prologue |

@drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed

TW: blood mention, killing, manipulation, cursing

A/n: This story takes place after the ATWOW so it contains spoilers. I don't have any beta for that fic so I'm sorry if you find mistakes. English is not my native language (I wish).

She went to a small lake where she could catch some fish for dinner. Nuyia aimed her bow again that day and saw a movement in the water, then she get loose an arrow that hit an animal. She jumped into the water, kill the fish, thanking to Eywa and giving some of its energy to the Great Mother. She did the same with the three other fish.

Nuyia took them all into the house where she began to bone them. When the girl finished she wrapped the fillets in edible leaves and took them to the hearthstone where the wraps could be cooked. She heard a strange, injured man muttering to himself, but she paid him no attention. After all, she's thinking about him. What is he doing here? What happened to him and of course, who is he? She knows that he was an avatar with demon blood, a dreamwalker, but she didn't know why he was here, not only in her house, but also in her world. Nuyia wasn't happy about these thoughts. She knows she was supposed to help him and take care of him, nothing more. If he recovers, she'll kick his ass out of her home and her life. Nuyia didn't want to go wrong, make an aquaintance or anything like that. She couldn't. A few years ago, she got in trouble for her actions. That was the reason why she lived alone, far away from the nearest village of the Tipani clan.

She was stupid as fuck. An idiot, an now she didn't want to make another mistake. No more and no less than that.

Nuyia turned over the wraps and waited patiently. When the food was ready, she took it from the fire and put the wraps on a wooden plate. She went into the house, approaching the stranger, and gave him some food.

"Eat." She said, taking a wrap and began to eat.

"Don't tell me that's a damn fish..." He moaned and rolled his green-yellow eyes. Apparently, he didn't like the fish, but that wasn't Nuyi's problem. He has to eat.

"Shut up and eat the fuckin' fish! You’ll recover faster and I'll finally kick your demon ass out of there." She looked at him irritably. "Don't look at me like that, the food isn't poisoned as you can see." Nuyia pointed to herself and took another bite.

"I won't eat that." He replied, lying down on the sleeping mat. "You'd better gimme somethin' else."

She giggled.

"I don't think you'd have made it hunting on your own. Not with that wound." She pointed her chin to his muscular torso. "So... you have to eat what I give you. For how long? That depends on you." Nuyia shrugged her shoulders.

Finally he sat up, took a wrap and began to eat. In a short period of time he ate two fish.

"It was quite good."

"Skxawng. You really are a skxawng. When you're done, you should rest. You're hurt and exhausted."

He nodded. Nuyia stood up, not looking at him, and walked to the table where she'd been making drugs, ointments, and poisons. She heard every movement of a man, even if she didn't want to hear it. She was squeezing a plant to isolate an extract when he said:

"I wanna say somethin'..."

"What?"

"I... I wanna thank you. For saving ma life." Apparently he was unfamiliar with thanks.

Nuyia spat out.

"You don't need to thank me. It wasn't my wish, it was Eywa's. To be honest... I wanted to kill you." She didn't say she wanted to kill him from the beginning. Nuyia has a lot of poisons in her house that she could use. One of them instead of an ointment. If she had done that, the demon would be dead now. But she respected Eywa's will. Even if she didn't understand it.

He laughed painfully.

"You, Na’vi, really have a goddess complex."

She turned her head toward him and hissed.

"Show some respect, demon!"

"Easy there, sunshine." He replied, smiling at her. She could tell that her anger amused him. He provoked her with stupid comments and she let him do it like a not-so-smart child. "Are you gonna answer me who you are or not?"

"Let me think... I don't see why." She didn't pause from her work; her hands worked automatically.

"I still wanna know the name of my savior. And who I've been messing with. I'm Miles."

She didn't want to say her name. Why did Eywa want to save him so badly?

She sighed.

"Nuyia Te Isna Rrrta’awä'ite" She introduced herself, looking at him.

He was puzzled and confused.

"Like... Like what?" Miles tried to repeat her name but gave up. "Holy shit what a slatey name you have, woman."

"I don't have another one."

"Then how should I call you? Maybe 'sunshine'?”

She hissed at him, her ears twitching downward.

"I'm not your 'sunshine', dreamwalker. And I'll never be. My name is Nuyia. Nuy-yi-a, do you understand? Not 'sunshine', 'sweetie', or anything like that. I have a name and I'm not a pet of yours."

"Okey-dokey. You don't seem like a nice person, do you? Rude, vulgar, and aggressive as hell. You have a problem with yourself. The mental problem, y'know.

"Shut the fuck up!" Nuyia yawped; Miles laughed when he saw and heard that.

"I told ya. You've got a pro-" He stopped talking because she threw a small arrowhead at him. He twisted himself, moaning in pain. Miles looked at his wound and cursed. "Fuck..."

Blood seeped through the bandage Nuyia had wrapped around his torso.

"You're really such a moron." She shook her head, took a new bandage and ointment, squatted down next to Miles, and rendered aid.

"It wasn't my fault!" He groaned again. "You have a problem with aggression, not me."

She gave him a look that he shut up at the end.

Two days later

"Tell me one thing, Nuyia." Miles took slow steps toward her, watching how she was preparing her arrows. His wounds have been healed up quickly and without any complications.

"Great Mother Eywa, give me strength to that skxawng..." She mumbled. "What do you want from me?"

"You know English quite well, do you? Who taught you? Augustine?" He asked.

Nuyia looked at him.

"I don't know any Augustine. My mother taught me, why do you ask?"

"I had an idea. You could teach me the Na'vi way. You know - language, hunting, bonding with an animal. That phrase 'I see you'.

"No."

"No? But why? I'm a Na'vi, you're a Na'vi. We are both Na'vi."

She turned her head to him.

"No. You're not a Na'vi. And you'll never be. Why do you ask me that stupid question? Did you understand? Sky People cannot be one of The People. Never. You're too stupid. Behave like babies. You've never seen, heard, or felt. You don't even try to understand our life. People like you do only one thing - bring death, pain, and nothing more. You're killing us. For what?! What have we done to you? To Sky People?” She grabbed his arm where he has a tattoo, looking at his unusual eyes. Miles looked down at her, seeing hate in her golden irises. She was angry. Angry as hell. But he has a reason to learn the Na'vi way.

"It wasn't an offer, sweetheart."

"I am. Not. Your. Fucking. Sweetheart! I said NO!” She took her knife from the table. "What do you want to do with that knowledge? Answer me, Miles. You want to save someone, right? Or kill. Just give me an answer."

He sighed and swallowed then licked his bottom lip. Nice idea, Nuyia, he thought.

"Yes... I must save someone."

She blinked a couple of times.

"Save? I thought..."

"I know what you have thought. But no."

"Then... whom?"

He sighed again.

"My son."

Nuyia froze. She stood up and paced back and forth. A few minutes passed, then she stopped. She looked at him again, finally saying:

"I went over that. I'll help you, Miles. I'll teach you our way and how to be one of The People. And... I'll help you save your child."

You're just off the boat, sweetie, He thought but smiled at her. Such a naive woman. How cute.

"When do we start?”

"Morning. Of the dawn. But I warn you - I'm not an easy teacher. And not patient."

He smiled at her in response.

[smp-live]

The apocalypse happened a few years ago. And- it's vague, the apocalypse. It's not some big earth-shattering moment. It's confused tv reports and impulse decisions and little growing bits of tension until the pot boils over.

The details are fuzzy; it all happened so quickly that many civilians were left unaware of what exactly went down. One day, they were living, and the next, most weren't.

Nukes, EMPs, solar flares - the survivors find it doesn't matter. One way or another, the world ended, millions died, and everything’s different. Hostile. Harsh. Unforgiving. The sun is bright and searing, and radiation burns skin not covered head-to-toe.

People are cruel and will take advantage of anything they can. If you're not a part of an already-existing group, good luck.

Somehow, two men end up on a wooden pallet floating in the middle of the ocean. Maybe it was a plane crash, one of the few still running downed by a stray shot; maybe a boat capsized, embrittled by the radiation. Same as the apocalypse, it doesn't matter. What does is that now they’re surrounded by debris and a shark thirsting for blood and there’s one thing they both know: trust no-one.

So they don’t. Names hold power, as they’ve learnt over the past few years; names imply trust. When it becomes apparent they’re stuck together and the time comes to introduce themselves, the elder of the two stares out to sea and says, “Call me...” And that phrase brings back memories of a book he’d read long ago, in the Before Days, and so he finishes, “Ishmael.”

The younger panics and blurts out the first thing that comes to mind: “I’m Gunk.”

‘Ishmael’ raises a skeptical eyebrow, clearly amused. “Gunk,” he repeats. And ‘Gunk’ nods, crosses his arms.

“Yeah, bitch. It’s...” his mind blanks, “Russian.”

Ishmael’s brow climbs further, and he looks on the verge of laughing, lips twisting ever-so-slightly upward. “Last name?”

“Uh,” Gunk wracks his brain, and something from a history class, years ago, stands out. Nearly forgotten amongst all the useless information - what he calls anything that doesn’t directly contribute to survival, nowadays - and only clinging on through his brain classifying it as ‘important’ for God-knows-why. “Gorbachov.”

“Like... Michael Gorbachov?” There’s a hint of laughter in Ishmael’s tone now, the first in a while. He tries not to let that thought depress him.

Gunk nods, relieved at the reminder of the rest of the name, even if he still can’t place it. “Yeah. He was my father.”

“Michael Gorbachov, eighth and final leader of Soviet Russia, was your father,” Ishmael deadpans, and, frustrated at having been outplayed, Gunk scowls.

“What of it?” he challenges, which makes Ishmael laugh, throwing his head back to the blistering sun high above.

“Okay, Gunk,” he says, and yet it doesn’t feel patronizing.

They both know the other is lying, that much is obvious from the constant teasing and jokes about Gunk’s ‘father.’ But it doesn’t matter, because in the slow turning of the days, they grow close. After all, there’s not much to do on a makeshift raft in the middle of the ocean, other than chat.

Ishmael is handy, and the main reason for their survival. He knows how to purify water and fillet a fish, how to add on to their raft without nails and swim against the ocean current. Gunk wonders where he picked all that up, but never asks.

(A survivalist father and paranoid brother, whom Ishmael hasn’t seen in half a decade. The thought that they’re probably still alive brings him comfort.)

Gunk, on the other hand, does most of the grunt work. Fishing in debris that floats by, diving down for rocks when they briefly dock, and the ever-important duty of keeping the shark they named Clive from destroying their miserly raft. He keeps up a steady stream of chatter through it all, and Ishmael thinks that’s what makes the monumental effort to go on worth it. Then, he wonders when he let himself get attached.

(It was a week or so in, when Gunk had fashioned himself a shelf out of the bottom of a storage bin and some planks, and proclaimed it his ‘comfort shelf.’ Gunk felt the same when Ishmael didn’t tell him to dismantle it, only pushed it aside, even though they were supposed to use that wood to repair Clive’s last attack.)

They survive, they grow closer, they hesitantly trust, and yet, they don’t pry. They don’t share their real names. Not until one day.

Ishmael goes swimming out to a nearby island to scavenge for food and chop down a few trees, if he can manage. Gunk stays on the ship - an anchor is next on their to-do list, and so he’s responsible for keeping it from drifting off with his tiny paddle. Except it’s not well-crafted, and grey jaws reach up to snap at the wood he’s standing on so he uses it to stab Clive, and the tip breaks off. The raft starts drifting away.

“Ishmael!” he calls, then again, louder, “Ishmael! Fuck, man!” But he’s nowhere to be seen, and the current is dragging Gunk awfully far out from the island.

He keeps calling, shouting, screaming, increasingly panicked at leaving his friend, the man who’d helped him survive for months, now, behind. Until his voice grows hoarse the way it never did from rambling for hours on end, and a little speck appears on the beach of the island.

Ishmael waves widely at him, and he must be shouting but Gunk can’t hear it over the lapping of the waves. So he assumes what was said, hollers, “I can’t fuckin’ come back, arsehole!” and raises the remains of the paddle over his head to clarify.

The speck stills, then bursts into motion, tossing everything he’s holding aside and shucking his shoes. Gunk can practically hear him mutter about what an “ridiculous child” he is, because although they’ve never shared their ages Ishmael’s decided he’s the elder of the two, which obviously means Gunk is a child.

And then Ishmael dives into the water, and he’s closing the distance between himself and the raft with each stroke. He cuts a straight line through the waves, until he suddenly swerves to the left. Gunk is confused a moment, before he notices - a grey fin jutting out of the water next to him.

Clive goes in for another pass, then another, and Ishmael jukes him out both times. He’s maybe five meters away, now, but the shark is coming back so Gunk screams. But Ishmael’s head is underwater, and he doesn’t hear. Just keeps going, towards safety he won't make it to.

Clive barrels into him. Ishmael vanishes underwater.

He doesn’t come back up.

Gunk is diving in before he can properly think, pushing past the cold shock of the sea, as he uses his self-taught skills to bring him to where he guesses Ishmael last was. Then, he takes a deep breath, squeezes his eyes shut, and goes under.

After a nervewracking few moments, his elbow bumps into something and he latches on, desperately dragging it upwards. They break the surface and he gasps for breath, Ishmael limp against him.

The trip back is agonizing. Ishmael is deadweight, their clothes are waterlogged, and Gunk has never been the best swimmer. But Clive is still lurking, and he refuses to drown after all this time, so he manages to drag them both back to the raft through pure willpower and spite.

Gunk collapses next to where he’d heaved Ishmael onto the planks, taking a second to compose himself. Shivering violently, he curls into a ball - he'll have to go for a spare change of clothes. His eyes drift shut. In a moment.

Then, panic seizes his heart as he becomes aware of how still Ishmael is. He jerks up, staring at him, searching for any sign of life, anything-

But a moment later he relaxes, when Ishmael rolls over and starts heaving out saltwater. Gunk reaches over and pats him on the back until it subsides, and he falls back onto the wood.

“You,” Ishmael says, letting his eyes flutter shut, “are so stupid.”

Gunk feels a burst of indignation. “Hey, what the fuck! I just saved your dumbass, Ish-ma-el.” He scowls at Ishmael’s placid little twist of the lips.

“Wilbur,” he murmurs, hands folded over his chest.

“What?”

“My name is Wilbur.”

Oh.

“I’m Tommy,” he says after a moment of silence where it sinks in, what he’d just been told, the trust laid on him, and then lays down next to Ishmael - Wilbur, now.

Wilbur just hums and wraps an arm under his shoulders, tugging him close - which is new; they’re really going all-in with this trust thing, huh? - then says, “So, so stupid.”

“Oi,” Tommy protests, but leans in closer.

Things aren’t really visibly different, after that. They still bicker, still do the same daily tasks, still slip up and call each other ‘Ishmael’ and ‘Gunk’ - though it becomes less and less common, other than with a teasing tone. They finally get their anchor, which means Tommy has the chance to go on land; though he quickly grows to dislike it after an incident with a particularly pissed-off boar.

To an outsider, everything remains the same. But to the inhabitants of the raft, it feels different. More homely. Warmer.

Once, after Wilbur chides Tommy over something or another, Tommy rolls his eyes and says, “You know, we really are like brothers.” He tries to keep his tone joking, and to not let himself hope for the words to be true.

Wilbur freezes. “Don’t say that; I’ll cry.” He blinks once to keep the tears at bay, and tries to push down the warmth in his chest.

(They both fail.)

About four months in, a light appears in the distance, at night. They angle their sail towards it and the dark shadow on the horizon. A few days later, it becomes apparent what it is: a lighthouse.

Inhabited land. Civilization.

They gather their meagre supplies once they dock, then ditch the raft in favour of climbing the lighthouse. And, from the top, off over a hill, Wilbur spots it first, points it out to his brother, who squints-

A Dome.

[hopelikethemoon]

first date (Javier x Reader) [smut] {MTMF}

Title: first date  Rating: Explicit  Length: 3,900 Warnings: Angst, Smut (fingering, teasing, sex from behind, unprotected sex, if you squint there’s a bit of a praise kink and smidge of orgasm delay) Notes: Set a couple days after The Picnic. You can follow the timeline of Maybe Today, Maybe Forever here. Also, fun note: Yuca was a real restaurant in Miami at the time. Look up the “Mango Gang” for some fun Miami restaurant history. Summary: Javier and Reader go on their first date. 

Taglist:  @grapemama​​  @seawhisperer​​ @huliabitch​​ @pedropascalito​​ @rogrsnbarnes​​@thewallpapergoesorido​​ @twomoonstwosuns​​ @gooddaykate​​ @livasaurasrex @ham4arrow​@hiscyarika​​ @plexflexico​​ @readsalot73​​ @hdlynn​​ @lokiaddicted​ @randomness501​​@fioccodineveautunnale​​​ @roxypeanut​ @just-add-butter​

You lingered in the doorway of your bedroom, leaning against the doorframe as you listened to the conversation taking place down the hallway — the way that maybe you weren’t supposed to hear. But the condo wasn’t very large and despite Josie’s giggles and squeals as she played with the new Barbie her abuelo had brought her, you could clearly hear Javi and Chucho.

“We missed out on a lot,” Javier remarked. A sentiment you were all too familiar with. He’d gotten better at discussing the things that got under his skin. You’d always known him to be the type to repress his feelings, bottle it all up until it exploded one day. 

You thought of the night that changed everything, that set you both forward on a path that had led you here. The wild-eyed look as he stood in your bedroom, covered in Daniel’s blood. The haunted look he wore until the bruises faded from your skin — the way he still sometimes traced over the invisible marks he remembered. 

“You’re here now, when it matters.” Chucho offered wisely. “You can’t keep dwelling on what could’ve been.” He chuckled. “You could’ve been married to Loriane

Javier huffed at that, “Fuck that.”

“Javier.” His father hissed. 

“She’s heard it before.” Javier countered and he must’ve made a face at Josie because she was giggling at something. “It’s not like that. I’m not dwelling on the past, I’m just trying to figure out how to make up for it all now.”

“The best things in life are often the things we didn’t plan for.”

Javi sighed. “Yeah.” 

Your heart ached a little, listening to them. You knew how much it weighed on Javi. He tried to keep it from you, but you knew. It hadn’t been easy for you either. 

“I get caught up thinking sometimes, pops. About what might’ve been. If Josie hadn’t happened. If it had been a one-off thing between us and she brushed me off afterwards.” 

You couldn’t blame him, you had thought about that too. More than you wanted to admit. You knew you cared about Javier — you had for a long time. But Josie had been the reason...

“She was seeing this guy for a bit. Early on.” Javier clicked his tongue against his teeth. “Nice guy; CIA, straightlaced, take-home-to-ma-type. I couldn’t fucking stand the guy.” 

Lance. Javier's description of him was spot on. He’d been a great boyfriend and a great distraction about a year into Colombia.  

Javier continued, “It had nothing to do with me. We were just partners then — friends. But I hated that guy. Never understood why until recently.”

“You know,” Chucho quipped. “I think you might’ve finally grown up, Javier. I always worried about you. Who you would have when I was gone.” 

“Pop—”

“No. Listen to me.” He said firmly. “I never thought you and Lorraine had a shot in hell. She wanted the picket fence life and you wanted… hell if I ever knew.” Chucho sighed heavily, “Something you couldn’t find in Laredo. I ain’t never seen you look at someone the way you look at the woman in there.” 

You retreated a little further into the bedroom, afraid they’d see you lingering in the doorway. You missed whatever Javier said after that, his voice muffled by the door as you walked over to grab your jacket off the bed. You shouldn’t have been listening to begin with. 

You stared at your reflection in the mirror, smoothing your hands over the front of your dress. Javier had insisted that you dress up for the date — which felt ridiculous, all things considered. He’d found a fancy Cuban restaurant in Coral Gables with authentic food from an up and coming chef. Yuca was all the craze in downtown Miami. You’d read a dozen articles in the Herald about it. 

The dress was your color and it draped across your curves in all the right ways. You hadn’t actually worn the dress yet; it had been purchased in Colombia while you were still pregnant with Josie as a motivation to get back to where you once were physically. You looked hot and really, wasn’t that the whole reason for getting dressed up for a date?

You hadn’t actually been on a date since… fuck. The irony of him bringing up Lance. He was the last guy you’d been on an honest-to-God date with. After him, you threw yourself into work and guys whose names you didn’t bother to remember. 

You pushed the bedroom door open, heading down the hallway towards the living room. Chucho and Javier both turned to look at you and you wished you had a camera to take a snap of Javi’s face. His eyes warmed as they swept over you, his lips drawing into a grin. “You ready, baby?” Javier ran his hands over the tops of his legs before he slowly rose to his feet. 

Despite his insistence that he wanted to wear a suit, you had convinced him otherwise. Settling somewhere in the middle, Javier was dressed in a pair of dark jeans and a button-up shirt with his aviator’s tucked into the front of them. 

“I’m ready if you are.’

You knelt down next to Josie, grinning as she toddled over to you and draped herself over your knees. “Are you going to be a good little girl for your abuelo?

“Yes!” She said excitedly, looking up at you with the sweetest face. 

“I somehow don’t believe that.” You brushed your fingers through her dark curls, looking towards Chucho, “Thank you for this.” 

“Any time.” He smiled, looking between you and Javi. “Don’t be late for your reservations.” Chucho gave Javier a look. “Make good choices.” 

Javier chuckled. “I can’t guarantee that. Thanks again, Pops. For everything.” He remarked as he grabbed his leather Member’s Only jacket off the coat rack. “Let’s get out of here.” 

“You know what’s stupid?” You questioned as you took Javier’s hand into yours, walking alongside him down to the car. 

“What?”

“I’m so fucking nervous.” 

Javier’s shoulders sagged with relief, “Thank God it’s not just me.” He led you down to the car, unlocking the passenger door and holding it open for you. “We’ve been doing this for two years.”

“Right?” You rolled your eyes. “Two years and a kid later and I would love to know why my stomach’s in knots.” 

Javier slid into the driver’s seat, turning to look at you. “I dunno, but I do know that you’re gonna be the prettiest girl at the restaurant tonight.” He leaned over the center console and pressed a quick kiss to your lips. 

“Damn, I was hoping for the hottest. I have to go change.” You acted like you were going to get out of the car, but Javier curled his hand around her leg.

“I was going to say sexiest, but this is our first date. Remember?” He smirked. 

Yuca was exactly what you anticipated. A bustling restaurant that fully embraced the Cuban experience of Little Havana. You ended up ordering something called Cuban Corvina — a fish fillet with tomato fondue and coconut rice; while Javier ended up with a carne frita style pork shank. Far fancier than anything either of you made at home. In fact, the most adventurous food you’d tried was a toss-up — off-brand oatmeal that featured hatching dinosaur eggs or the dinosaur-shaped chicken that Josie was obsessed with. Everything had been dinosaurs with Josie ever since you picked Jurassic Park up at Blockbuster a couple months back. 

Javier grinned at you from across the table, before he grabbed the bottle of wine and refilled your glass. “Are you enjoying tonight so far?”

You nodded, a faint smile playing over your lips. “It’s a pretty nice first date.” 

“Just nice?” He pretended to be wounded by that. “I’m glad we made this happen.” Javi ran his thumb over his bottom lip, leaning back in his chair as he watched you. “We’ve got to do this more often.” 

“It doesn’t always have to be fancy, you know.” You suggested, leaning an elbow on the table as you picked up your wine, taking a sip. “I’m perfectly fine with a night out at a bar. Like old times.” 

“Like old times?” He cocked his head to the side, a brow arching upwards. 

“Yeah.” You chewed on your bottom lip. “We’re on this date because we’re both trying to make up for lost time. But we’ve never been fancy restaurant people.” You gave him a look. “This is nice once in awhile.” 

He scratched at his jaw and tapped his foot against your ankle beneath the table. “You’re not wrong.” He met your eyes, something almost sad lurking in his gaze. “But we’re good, right?”

“Of course we are.” You nudged his foot back beneath the table, before you confessed. “I heard you and your dad talking.” 

Javier blinked at you, before his brows furrowed together with a worried line between them. “Ah.” 

You nervously tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, leaning forward against the table. “I wouldn’t have. For the record. If Josie hadn’t happened, but that night did… I wouldn’t have blown you off.” 

A small smile played over his lips as he rubbed at the back of his neck, letting his hand rest against the side of it. “Does everyone else worry about the ‘what ifs’?” He questioned, glancing around the restaurant then. “Does that couple over there worry about what happened two years ago?’ 

“Probably.” You laughed softly, mostly because of nerves. Nothing about this conversation was humorous. “I mean, I get it. I worry too. All the time.” You met his gaze. “I worry that we’re too much alike and completely different in the same breath. It’s not as bad as it used to be, but… I used to worry that Josie was the only reason you were still here.”

 “No—”

“I know. Just like you know. But that doesn’t mean that I didn’t worry. That I don’t.” You reached across the table and grabbed his hand. “Javi, I just want to be with you.” He tightened his grip on your hand. “Even though having Josie was horribly traumatic for both of us, I even… I can’t even believe I’ve thought about it, but… I even want to have another kid with you someday. Not right now, but one day.” 

“Don’t panic.” Javier said quietly as he reached into his jacket pocket. 

“Okay.” You arched a curious brow. “It’s not what it looks like, alright. I mean there’s a heavy implication, but…” He sighed heavily as he sat a jewelry box down on the table between you. “It’s not a ring.” Javier assured you.

You released your hold on his hand and reached out to pick it up. It was an older jewelry box, worn around the edges, and the hinge creaked as you opened it. Inside was a silver teardrop necklace with a turquoise stone inlay with a pair of earrings flanking it, similar in style. 

“It was my mother’s.” Javier told you, shifting awkwardly in his seat. “Part of the reason why my pops came to visit. He wasn’t about to mail it to me.” He smiled at you, though his anxiety was clear to see in his eyes. “I wasn’t going to make a big fucking deal about it. I was just going to give it to you, but this—” He gestured around the restaurant. “Seemed like a good place.”

“It’s beautiful.” You breathed out, not quite trusting your voice as you brushed your fingers over the stone. “Javier.” 

“She would’ve loved you.” Javier told you earnestly and you swore he looked like he might cry. “She would’ve loved Josie.” 

“I wish I’d worn something that went with turquoise.” You said lightly, sniffing a little. Brushing your hair aside, you unclasped the necklace you had been wearing, carefully putting his mother’s necklace on in its place. You curled your fingers around the teardrop setting, smiling across the table at him. “I’m so fucking glad it wasn’t a ring.”

“You and me both.” He laughed, tapping his foot against yours. “You're stuck with me, baby.” 

“Good.” You grinned at him, before you dropped your voice to a teasing tone. “Now, I want to know more about this thing about you hating Lance.”

He groaned, dragging his hands over his face. “Don’t fucking do that to me.” He shook his head. “Fuck.” 

“Inquiring minds want to know.” You batted your eyes at him. “Oh, come on Javi.” 

Javier rocked his jaw as he glared at you. “You and I both know, you would’ve been bored as hell with him after awhile.”

“Oh, I was.” You shrugged. “When I broke up with him, he wanted to stay friends. He took it so well.” You stuck out your tongue, before taking a sip of your wine. “Not that I think you and I are ever going to break up, but… I want some screaming, a couple doors slammed, and then I want you to try to win me back.”

“Damn, first date and you’re already planning our break up.” Javier said lightly, his lips quirking upwards at the corners. 

“Just think of the make-up sex,” You mused, curling your fingers around the pendant around your neck. That was the closest you’d ever come to being proposed to. It was, within the parameters of your relationship with Javi, exactly that. You had his mother’s necklace now — neither of you were going anywhere. 

“You have me interested there.” Javier swept his thumb over his bottom lip, brows drawn together thoughtfully. 

You smirked. “I thought that would catch your attention.” 

 ———

 “Shhh.” You whispered, pressing a finger to your lips as you closed the front door quietly. Javier groped at your ass and you couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you — louder than it should’ve been considering Chucho and Josie were asleep in the house. 

He was quick to clamp a hand over your mouth, pressing you back against the front door with a wicked grin playing over his lips. “Shh.” Javi drawled out, taunting you. His lips moved close to your ear as he shushed you again, his breath causing you to shiver in response. 

“Javi!” You curled your fingers around the back of his neck as you looked up into his eyes. It was dark, but not too dark that you couldn’t see enough of him. 

“How do you feel about fucking on the first date?” He questioned, leaning in to catch your bottom lip between his teeth. 

“I feel like we are not alone in the house.” You whispered, playing with the hairs on the nape of his neck. 

“Then we better be quiet.” Javier smirked as his hand slipped beneath the hem of your dress, dragging up along your inner thigh. He leaned in to kiss you, swallowing up the sound that rose up in your throat as his fingers skimmed over the damp crotch of your panties. You pressed your shoulders back against the door, rocking your hips forward into his touch. 

Your mouth slanted over his, your tongue playing over his bottom lip before he granted you access. His tongue slid out to meet yours, tilting his head as he deepened the kiss. You moaned wantonly against his lips as he pushed aside your panties, pressing two thick fingers into you. It was a fleeting sensation, he pumped his fingers in and out of you — just enough to make you burn, before he abandoned you. 

“Javer.” You seethed as you slumped back against the door, watching the way he brought his fingers to his lips and made a show of tasting them. “You’re such a bastard.” 

He clicked his tongue against his teeth, smirking at you. “And you love me for it.” Javier jerked his head in the direction of your bedroom, holding his hand out for you. 

You let him guide you down the hallway to the bedroom, trying to keep your steps quiet as you crept past Josie bedroom. Fortunately, she’d gotten better at sleeping through the night. But she was still a light sleeper. 

Javier was on you the second he got the bedroom door shut and locked. Guiding you back towards the bed with a series of desperate touches. He dragged your jacket down your arms while you kicked your shoes off beneath the bottom of the bed. Your hands pried his belt off, sliding the belt through the loops, before ghosting your fingertips over his hardened length beneath his jeans. 

His hand slid around behind you, dragging the zipper of your dress down your sides. He unwrapped you, abandoning the dress to the floor beside the bed. “Fuck.” Javier swore through his teeth as he stared down at you. 

He brushed his fingertips over your collarbone before trailing downwards, running them between the valley of your breasts. “Look at you, baby.” He rasped out as he cupped your breasts through your bra, palming them roughly. 

You moaned quietly, gripping tightly at the fabric of his shirt. “I bought it just for you.” You had. Most of your wardrobe was practical, but you’d slipped away to the mall to buy something nice just for the date. 

Javier pressed his knee between your thighs on the mattress as he draped himself over you. “Aren’t I a lucky man?” He muttered as he leaned down to brush his lips over the swell of your right breast, dragging his thumb over the pebbled peak of your left nipple. You arched your back, grinding down against his leg — needing friction. Needing more. 

Another moan escaped you and Javier was quick to press his hand over your mouth to stifle the sound. His eyes flashed to meet yours, dark and clouded with lust. “You’ve got to be quiet, baby.” He warned you, pinching both of your nipples through your bra. Desire lanced through you hotly and you bucked against his knee. Your panties clung to your slick cunt, the fabric not enough as it dragged against your throbbing clit. 

“Are you going to be quiet for me?” Javier questioned as he removed his hand from your mouth, fingers sliding down to lightly wrap around your throat. “I know you can be a good girl.” His praise made you whimper against his hand. He must’ve known how badly you needed to be touched. He removed his knee from between your thighs and replaced it with his hand. He peeled your panties down your thighs, tossing them aside. He released his hold on your throat, taking a step back to look down at you. 

Javier ran his hands along your inner thighs, parting your legs wider as he trailed them higher. You bit down on your bottom lip, resisting the urge to cry out as he pressed two fingers into you. “Answer me, baby.” He drawled out, “Are you going to be quiet?”

“Yes.” You gasped out, chest heaving as you tried to keep your breathing steady. But it was hard to focus on anything other than the way he curved his fingers within you, the way he dragged them over that sweet spot within you. You trembled, looking up at him. “Javier, please don’t tease.” 

He leaned over you and caught your lips, kissing you fiercely with his fingers still buried within you. He pulsed them in and out of you twice more before he abandoned you yet again. “Roll over.” He ordered softly, brushing his slick finger over your bottom lip. “Please, baby?” 

You nodded breathlessly. Your heart was hammering in your chest as you rolled over onto your stomach. Javier pulled you towards him, helping you steady yourself on your feet as you leaned over the foot of the bed. He stroked his hands down your back, over your hips, before he took a step back to divest himself of the rest of his clothes.

“You look so fucking gorgeous.” Javier drawled out. You glanced back over your shoulder, your eyes sweeping over his bared flesh. Desire pooled hot between your thighs as your gaze fell to his erection resting hard against his belly. 

You curled your fingers, twisting the bedspread beneath you. Javier’s hands found you again, gripping tightly at your hips as he guided his cock to your center. He didn’t tease you, he spared you both that torment. 

“Javi.” You moaned quietly, hips rocking back against him as the full length of his cock settled into you. You clenched around him, urging him to move. 

Javier’s grip tightened at your hip, his other hand finding purchase in your hair. He drew out nearly completely before thrusting back into you, picking up the pace of his movements. His cock driving into you again and again. 

You pressed your face against the blanket, muffling the sounds that threatened to escape you. The moans, the whimpers, the soft cries of pleasure. He had you careening towards the edge, your body tightening around him. Right as you reached the precipice of your release, he withdrew — leaving you empty. Your cunt throbbed, desire coiling hotly in your belly.

He didn’t give you a chance to protest, gathering you up in his arms. Javier rolled you over, keeping an arm wrapped around you to draw you in towards his chest, holding you to him as he reached between you, guiding his cock back into you. 

It took two thrusts before your orgasm took hold of you, your cunt clenching around his cock, dragging out his own release from him. He sank his fingers into your hair, cradling the back of your head as his lips found yours, kissing you like his life depended upon it. 

In the wake of your pleasure, you both managed to find your way to the top of the bed, sinking in beneath the covers. You curled into his side, cheek resting against his chest, your arm draped over his stomach. 

Javier’s fingers played with your hair, traced fingers over your bare back. “Think you might go on a second date?” He mused quietly.

You tilted your head to look up at him with a grin, “I’ll have to check my schedule.” You teased lightly, brushing your fingers over his jawline before you leaned up to press a kiss to his lips. “I hear there’s a great place that serves dinosaur chicken nuggets and mac and cheese.” You whispered against his lips. “It’s close too.”

Javier hummed thoughtfully. “I’ll have to make us a reservation.” His fingers ghosted over the necklace where it laid against your chest. 

“I’d like that,” You reached up and dragged your fingers through his hair, kissing him again. “Hey.” 

“Yeah?”

You brushed your nose against his, stealing another kiss. “I love you.” 

Javier curled both of his arms around you and pulled you in close. “Love you too, baby.” 

 Maybe you would both keep trying to make up for lost time, maybe that was just part of what your relationship would always be. But something about tonight had you convinced that you could move forward. That his mother’s necklace was the symbol, the token, the unofficial proposal that harkened the beginning of letting go of the past. You would always wear the wounds like invisible scars — but you didn’t have to let them define your relationship. Neither of you could let your self-inflicted damage keep you from moving forward. Together. 

[maisstories]

I Need Your Help

To be more precise, my girlfriend needs your help. The reason I am the one writing this text is because right now she is so depressed and discouraged that she doesn’t have the strength to believe asking for help would make a difference, and that… that terrifies me.

For those who don’t know us, I am Mai, and my girlfriend is Kari. Under different circumstances, we should have our lives all nicely sorted out, but as we are all aware, we live in the kind of dystopian world society at large likes to pretend only happens in fiction. Especially Kari. You see, I’m from Spain, and Kari is from the US. This means an entire ocean separates us (otherwise I would’ve bundled her up and brought her home, believe me).

Kari is a poor wlw who lives in a very conservative area (as in, Bible Belt conservative). She has ADHD, which went untreated most of her life, hampering her at every turn. First, because she grew up in a very conservative Catholic family and most Catholic families just Don’t Believe in Those Things. Now… well, now because she has no medical insurance and can’t afford to pay for medication. Cute, isn’t it? And that’s not even the best part. Kari has depression, that I mentioned, but this whole situation, and the hopelessness it causes her, has brought forth suicidal ideation. I don’t have the words to express just how scared I am by this. It paralyzes me. There is nothing, physically nothing I can do if they ever get the better of her.

To add to this, it has been made abundantly clear to Kari that her parents won’t help her if she becomes homeless. They didn’t want a child to begin with. A gay child? Yeah, no, forget about it.

(On a bit of a bright note, Kari has two adopted cats, which are the cutest fur balls over. They’re her closest emotional support most days, and I am very grateful for them. I can’t cuddle her or be physically there for her at all, but I can at least ask her to go cuddle them. They’re not even on the particularly scratchy side for cats).

Currently, Kari has a job, but despite taking on as many extra hours as possible, she cannot make enough money for rent. In fact, she cannot make many other basic necessities, which I will list here because they’re important, I am worried sick, and we really do need help:

-Work: Kari lost her previous job for one of those completely absurd, US-only reasons back in late October. I say absurd because any company trying to pull that shit here in Spain, and most likely anywhere in the European Union, would’ve been fined out of business. But hey, Country of Freedom and all that, isn’t it? She finally found a new job mid-November. Lower pay, though, which means it doesn’t help her cover full rent.

-Rent: As many people in the US will know, and others not from the US will have heard, rent outside of isolated areas is ridiculously expensive, especially for such a large and unpopulated country. The Wonders of Capitalism. As such, Kari is forced to pay a truly monstrous amount of money for a minuscule space to live in, one that ate up most of her previous salary and that surpasses her current one.

-Bills: Let’s not forget these. She rations. As much as she can. Electricity, water, internet… she goes for cheapest and least use, so far as to monitor her use of water during showers, but this still adds to her expenses.

-Food: Now’s where things get to a truly awful degree. When she moved to the place she lives in now (and if anyone wants the story that led to this move, please ask, because that’s an entirely other level of fucked up), she had to apply for food stamps, because she had barely no money left to feed herself and her two adopted cats after all the mandatory expenses. Food stamps people don’t look at the money you have left after bills, they just look at your income, so she was allotted $16. Useful, right? Anyway, fast forward to late October: Kari loses her job, so, obviously, one of the first things she does is contact the food stamps people to update her situation and have her allotment reevaluated. No response. Contact again. No response. This keeps going on. Mid-November, she gets a new job (still no response from the food stamps people despite the many attempts to contact them). Last Friday, her food supplies consisted of a bit of chicken, two fish fillets, and a couple eggs. I do not kid you. Today, the food stamp people finally answered her call: they won’t look into her case until, at least, December.

That’s it for the basics. As you see, it’s a wonderful situation.

Now, my role in this, as I’m sure some of you are wondering.

Let me start by saying this: I am a heavily disabled woman (nearly blind) living in an isolated area with the worst public transport system this side of the Mediterranean Sea. I am incapable of even getting out of home without assistance and someone to drive me at the moment. This means, having a job where I currently live is out of the question (I’m working on getting a job somewhere else where I’ll be able to live on my own. Sort of). My only source of income right now is my Patreon account, the earnings of which go fully to Kari because my girlfriend’s wellbeing matters to me much more than anything I could ever need for myself. I may say whatever I want about my parents’ belief that my relationship isn’t real because they don’t believe you can forge real connections through the internet (or the fact they want me to have a BOYfriend because they want grandchildren), but at least they’re so terrified I’ll break the moment I step outside on my own that they take good care of me.

Still, unfortunately, I’m only a writer, and a writer’s Patreon doesn’t make enough money to cover for such serious issues.

But Kari is the most important person in my life. I’m not exaggerating. I never thought I’d fall in love. I’ve always been the weird one out, the blind kid teachers coddled too much out of pity so other kids disliked and picked on, the one who was so odd that didn’t even fit with the weird kids in school. That happened everywhere, anywhere I went. Even in some fandom groups. It came to the point I stopped trying. It came to the point I thought once my parents died I wouldn’t have anyone. I’d stopped making plans for the future. There was no future for me.

And then I met Kari. She can make me smile with a silly gif and an obscure quote I thought no one else knew at 3am when I’m on the verge of tears because I feel trapped in my own house; she can get me excited about doing a joint cosplay in the distant future when I’d given up on cosplay years ago because I had no one who wanted to go to cons with me; she listens to my stupid history rants and even shows interest in them, when the most I’m used to getting are eye rolls and a change of topic.

Kari is the best that’s happened to me. Ever. And I want her to be happy. I want her to not have to worry about rent; I want her to be able to buy herself a chocolate bar because she feels like it without having to feel guilty for wasting the money. I want her to be able to live without the fear of being evicted every month, without having to worry about tomorrow’s meals because she ran out of food stamps and the fridge has only a can of soup left for the weekend. I want her to be able to go to the doctor when she’s sick and buy the medication she needs to get better.

But I don’t have the power to do this. Not now, not yet. So I’m asking you, everyone out there, to please help us. Help her.

And, I’m afraid, November is an awful month for Kari. Due to the late date at which she found her new job, she is missing a large chunk of rent. I’m doing everything in my power to gather money, and I ask —no, beg— you to help. Donate something, anything. Even if it is small, many small donations can make a difference.

Originally, we wanted to do a GoFundMe page with a three-month goal of 975 dollars to cover that period’s expenses (yes, guys, we’re missing about 500 this month. It’s that horrible), but every single crowdfunding website we have found works through bank accounts. Banks in the US are sharks; they tax you for not having enough income, for not having enough activity… Basically, if you’re poor in the US, you have to pay to have a bank account that will never have any money in it because the bank will eat it up. So, until we find an alternate crowdfunding site that allows to collect through paypal, we have set us several other safe forms through which you guys can donate to help Kari.

Paypal.Me: https://paypal.me/findyourwaycrafts

Ko-Fi: https://ko-fi.com/findyourway

Kari has a crafts store, because she is a fantastic artist (and you should totally check it out), with much stuff already on it and other stuff planned to come:

Store: https://findyourway.storenvy.com/

Store Tumblr: https://findyourwaycrafts.tumblr.com/

However, these things take time to take off, and we are running out of time in November. So please, please, help us cover the remainder of Kari’s rent for this month. Even if it’s just a dollar, three, five, a purchase of a necklace. Anything. Please, help us. Help Kari keep a roof over her head this Winter.

[jesbakescookies]

Too Hot To Handle: Chapter Twenty-Seven

So I kinda wrote a different kind of fanfiction. It’s nothing as in depth as my other fics so I am going to post it here. ENJOY!!***Actor, Real Person Fanfiction, Walking Dead RPF***Featuring: Jeffrey Dean Morgan X Original Female Character, Norman Reedus and others.. (FYI this is total fiction, as in I know nothing about JDMs life or that of his real SO and son etc. Because of this, for this work of fiction, they don’t exist. Jeffrey’s been a typical actor playboy dating fellow stars etc. This is written for sick daydreaming pleasure.)

Aria St. James is a busy woman with a thriving restaurant. She thought she had everything she needed until a few famous faces visit her dining room. A tall, dark and handsome actor decides Aria’s just what he’s been looking for.

Rating: Mature : NSFW **dirty dirty**

I don’t have a masterlist for this fic yet but if you go to tags and choose Too Hot To Handle, it will pull them all up. Thanks!

Jeffrey pinned Aria to the soft mattress, the room dim with only the light from the fireplace. "You know you're stunning right?" He rasped, his thumb drawing a tender line along her jaw. His heavy eyes, dark and deep. "I can't believe it sometimes." "Believe what?" "That you're real. That you're with me." Rolling her eyes, Aria blushed at his compliments. "Shush, player.” Jeffrey kissed her cheek, rasping low and deep, "You know when you get all rosy like this, I get harder than a goddamn rock. You're as pretty as a picture." "Mr. Morgan, you're a big flirt." She murmured, tracing his tattoos with her fingertip. Jeffrey laughed gruffly, "You love it, Mrs. Morgan." Smiling at the name, she asked, "Do you want me to take your name?" "Truthfully, it's up to you. I know you've built your reputation up with yours. I won't be upset if you want to keep it." "I'll have to think about it." She murmured, her fingers stroking his chest and stomach. "It sounds kinda nice to have yours." "Oh yeah?" He rasped, leaning down to nuzzle into her neck. Sucking a hot path along her shoulder to her parted lips, Jeffrey asked, "Does it turn you on, Mrs. Morgan?" Gasping at his gravelly voice and his wandering fingers, Aria moaned, "Yes." "Mmmmhm." He rumbled, while spreading her legs wider. "Think I'm gonna fuck you, Mrs. Morgan. Long and hard."

"Jeff." Aria whispered as his hand slid between her legs and his fingertips dipped inside her. "Please." "I like you begging, baby girl." Jeffrey rasped, his tongue twirling around her nipple while massaging her tit. "Tell me what you want, baby." "You." She breathed the word more than spoke, as his fingers curled through her lips and thumb pressed into her clit. "Me what, darlin'?" "Fuck." She threw her head back into the pillow, her hips rising off the bed to chase his plunging fingers. "Please fuck me.... Mr. Morgan." Growling deeply, Jeffrey nipped her jaw and pinned her legs to the mattress. Staring down at where they met, he slowly sunk into her finding no resistance. Aria's thighs quivered under Jeffrey's large palms, her eyes fluttering closed as she fisted the sheets below her. She reveled in the feeling of his calloused fingers pressing into her soft calves and the almost unpleasant tug in her thighs from being spread. "So wet, beautiful." He groaned, his neck tense and arms strained as he controlled himself from shoving inside as fast and as hard as he could. "More." Aria panted, reaching up to clutch his hair with both fists, pulling his mouth to hers. "Fuck me, daddy." “God-fucking-damn. Ain't that hottest thing I've heard.” Jeffrey growled so deeply it rattled Aria's teeth. His eyes were pitch black as he stared down at her. Snapping his hips sharply, his mouth sucked on her tongue and dove down her throat. He was consuming her like a starving man given his favorite meal. "Oh fuck, Jeff. Jeff." She moaned, while her nails pinched his neck and chest. "Say it." He growled, rolling his hips to hit her deep and hard. Aria gripped his waist, tugging him closer.  "Make me cum." "Say it." "Make me cum, daddy." "Fuck. Yes." Jeffrey moaned, slamming into her while flicking her hood in rhythm with his thrusts. Soon the pressure collapsed, causing Aria's legs to close around Jeffrey's narrow hips, her body writhing as he plunged through her fluttering walls. He followed soon after, his body curling around hers, as though he couldn't get close enough. "So good." He murmured, kissing her sticky neck and jaw, his tongue darting out to taste the sweat over her lip. "Such a good fucking girl." Aria dipped her head sheepishly, her cheeks blushing at the way her body clenched around him at the compliment. Moaning as she clung to him, Jeffrey murmured into her breast as he licked her lazily, "Baby likes that, huh?" "Jeff." She whined, feeling embarrassed. "Hush, sweetpea." He soothed, his nose brushing along her jaw and cheek. "It's just us. Don't be shy. You like when I praise you?" Peeking up at him, she saw nothing but curiosity, no teasing glint in his eye. Nodding, she replied, "It turns me on to please you." Smiling at her, Jeffrey leaned forward and kissed her chastely. "You please me very, very much baby girl." "I love you." She replied, a soft smile curling her lips. "You have. no. idea. what those words do to me." Jeffrey rasped, his voice gravelly and deep. Aria's hand brushed hair from his forehead, as he peered down at her. "I think I do." Smiling at her, Jeffrey leaned down and kissed along her jaw until his whisker covered mouth was pressed into her neck and ear. "I love you too, sweetpea."

"What do you think about salmon for dinner?" Aria had asked before a camera snapped a photo of Jeffrey and her wandering the fish market. 

Glancing up, she found five paparazzi hanging out at the entrance of the market, their lens focusing on the two shopping for dinner. "Goddamn it." Jeffrey muttered under his breath, "I'm sorry darlin'." Frowning, she ordered the fillet she wanted and kept herself occupied, rather than worry about what they were snapping shots of. Grabbing their bags, Jeffrey walked on her left to keep the cameras on him, while providing a bit of a shield for Aria.   "Jeffrey! Aria! Are you vacationing or do you have property here?" "Hey guys. Just a little vacation between shoots." Jeffrey greeted, smiling while moving them towards their vehicle. "Aria! How are you dealing with the backlash of Jeffrey's female fans?" "Excuse us guys, we've got somewhere to be." Jeffrey muttered, pulling the car door open for Aria. Seeing her chewed lip and flushed cheeks, Jeffrey knew she was getting overwhelmed with how pushy everyone was being. "Come on guys, ease up alright. We're just on vacation, getting some sun." "Jeffrey, how do you react to the female fans who hate girlfriend." "Look, anyone who says they hate Aria, doesn't know her. Now if you don't mind I'm going to go spend time with the loveliest woman I know." "Jeffrey!" Climbing inside, Jeffrey closed the door and drove them away, his eyes flicking to the rearview mirror looking for anyone tailing them. He didn't want the vultures following them to the beach house. If they did, they'd camp out or find them on the beach. "Are they following?" She asked, her voice tight and eyes narrowed. "Not that I can see, but I'm going to drive a different route home." "This is fucking ridiculous." She muttered, her eyes watching the shore fly passed. "We are literally buying food, how is that fucking newsworthy? Who are the weirdos buying magazines or whatever of us buying fucking dinner?" "I know." "It's fucking-." Swallowing her next words, Aria huffed out a breath of frustration and stared out the window. Jeffrey noticed she was fiddling with her ring, her thumb spinning it restlessly. Swallowing thickly at the sight, he began to wonder if she was rethinking her answer. Maybe the pressure of being in the spotlight would be too much for her. "It's fucking what?" He asked, his voice rougher than minutes before. "Nothing." She muttered with a shake of her head. "Come on doll. Don't hold back on me now." Sighing deeply, her eyes rolled to his. "It's just so fucking stupid that you can't go grocery shopping without having a camera shoved in your face. It pisses me off that you can't have a normal goddamn life." "It's part of being an actor darlin'. I know it's a big fucking thing to ask of you but are you gonna be okay with that, stepping into that limelight? Being married to me has a lot of fucking baggage." He watched Aria swallow thickly, her chin dropping to her chest as she seemed to contemplate the question deeply. Jeffrey's hands tightened on the steering wheel, the leather creaking under his white knuckles. His breath slowed down the longer she stayed quiet, his heart thudding painful against his ribs. Tearing his eyes away from her folded hands to watch the highway, Jeffrey clenched his jaw as he waited for her change of heart. The idea of having had her as a fiancé for less than forty-eight hours was strangling him, his throat closing up completely.   "I.." she halted a moment before shaking her head as though changing her mind on what to say. "Aria, fuck, please talk to me or I'm gonna lose it." He rasped, his heated eyes flicking from her to the nearest exit off the traffic filled street. The conversation was too important to have his attention divided by keeping them from crashing into something.

"Okay doll.” Jeffrey announced, while parking on a shaded street. “Please just...  don't be scared to change your mind. It'll... fuck, it will suck a huge bag of dicks if you decide not to marry me but I'd rather fucking know now. I don't wanna do this and in half a year have you unhappily married to me-." "Stop." She blurted out, her hand reaching out to cover his mouth. Jeffrey let her, the feeling of her fingers soothing some of the panic swelling up in his chest. 

Aria smiled softly at him. "Calm down. I'm not questioning if I want to marry you. I was just thinking of questions I had about how everything will work. And then I realized I was being a fucking psycho wanting to plan every single possible outcome, to ever possible problem. It can't be done the way my crazy brain wants."

"Ask me anything." He mumbled under her hand before kissing her palm. Dropping her arm into her lap, she asked, "where will we live?" "Depends. My place has a bit more security but it's farther from your work." She pursed her lips while spinning the ring on her finger. "Every time you play with it, I think your changing your mind." Aria froze and shook her head, reaching out to hold his hand. Jeffrey stroked the ring with his thumb as she explained, "I'm not used to jewelry. Never really worn much, so I'm fidgeting. Not doubting." Leaning down he kissed Aria gently, his lips pulling at hers while cupping her face. "Are you gonna be okay with it darlin'? I have to hear you say it." Frowning slightly, she brushed her hand across Jeffrey’s jaw and replied, "I will be fine eventually. It's going to be... challenging but what fucking isn't? I can't say I will always want to go to events and parties. Or be happy with the pressure." "I wouldn't expect you too." "I just have my business and some ideas in the works. So time may be tight sometimes.” "I know sweets." He murmured, tucking a wild curl behind her ear. "It's another reason I love you, you've got your own life and you're driven." Nodding, she bit her lip and squinted slightly before stating, "I think we should live at your place. It'll be a further drive but I'd like more security with everything being the way it is with the press." "We could always get something new. Sell both and get some place close to your work with more privacy and security." "That's true." She spoke with a smirk. "That'd be fun actually." "House shopping?" He asked with a cocked eyebrow and a smug grin tugging at his lips. "Are you nesting dear?" Snorting, Aria smacked his shoulder playfully and quipped, "Smartass. I just think it'd be a nice thing to do together. Sue me.” Chuckling at her, Jeffrey combed his hand into her hair to pull her mouth to his. "God, you taste fucking good." He growled onto her tongue as he ravaged her with his hungry lips. "Come on, we gotta get home. We have raw fish." "Fine." He grunted, kissing chastely. "Later, doll. Later."

Find Chapter Twenty Eight Here:

http://jesbakescookies.tumblr.com/post/164147325851/too-hot-to-handle-chapter-twenty-eight

I started posting this fic over on AO3 also. I will probably post in both places since I’m still figuring out AO3 formatting etc.

Let me know if you’d like to be tagged for updates. I’ll try my best to remember!

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[abiteofnat]

OUT IN THE WILD, WILD WEST LOOP...

THERE’S A LOT OF GOLD TO BE FOUND. In the form of pizza, pasta, tacos, booze, and everything good that’s bad for you. The Randolph Street area west of the highway that runs next to Chicago is becoming ~the~ place for dinner plans and Friday night dates as it’s being transformed from warehouse valley to an up-and-coming Broadway of food, which is great news for the whole city. 

While I’m fairly certain not even the most extreme foodie has been able to eat at every single place in Chicago, it’s easy to find your favorites and settle into choosing from them versus really exploring a new section of the city. West Randolph has created a whole new division of restaurants and bars to float around and honestly they’re all hits; no where on this street is a flop and it’s such an aesthetically pretty area to be day or night. There’s the view of the entire skyline on one side, and then old, gorgeous brick building refurbished and repainted lining both sides of the street. Since this used to be a heavy factory/ storage area, there are still a lot of untouched lots which adds an old-Chicago vibe that O’Leary’s cow could probably fit right into, but with all the patios and twinkly lights spilling onto the sidewalks the restaurants really nailed the shabby-chic look. 

Over the past eight months or so I’ve eaten my way through Randolph Street because every restaurant looks better than the last, and I can honestly say I love nothing more than dressing up a little and getting an early dinner somewhere new and cute to sit in for hours, and if I’m with my best friends or my family?!? OVER THE MOON. A good 6 p.m. dinner followed by wandering around the city in search of a night cap or a verrryyyy chocolaty dessert? PAST THE MOON AND TO JUPITER. My life philosophy is that the best moments are spent around food and loved ones, and that happiness really is that simple... which is why every weekend I go home to my family where we all love to eat out in Evanston and then get ice cream anywhere because we don’t keep treats in the house (since we all entirely lack self control) and dessert is a nightly “congrats” for getting through the day. But sometimes they want to come into the city and that’s when it’s my turn to find the top-notch noshes! 

Should you need a date night idea or somewhere to bring your best friend/family for a birthday dinner, here are some golden nuggets along West Randy. 

1. Formento’s 

I came across Formento’s on Instagram one million times before ever making it there as they are one of the restaurants that caught onto the “cacio e pepe” pasta trend before the rest of the city did, and the boomerangs of a soft egg yolk breaking over thick, peppery noodles haunted my dreams for weeks. When my girl Luzi asked where we wanted to get dinner one night over the summer when it was a perfect, breezy evening I didn’t even hesitate to suggest Formento’s- with a beautiful and lush patio and a menu packed with drool-worthy food, and she was like “Yes, duh”, so off we went! The waiter was a quirky gal full of suggestions and more than willing to walk us through the menu which is somewhat tapas style and an “encouraged to share” type thing, which always makes me a little anxious but all my brain could think was “cacio e pepe cacio e pepe cacio e pepe” so somehow along the way we also ordered olives and a kale salad but I barely remember those. The olives were marinated and served slightly warm, and they brought us bread thick with rosemary and garlic and wowie it was good enough to be a meal on it’s own. I would love to go back and try the burrata and the lump crab toast, but this place is more of a treat-yourself night out place than a drop in for a casual $50 dinner place so I’m biding my time for an event to celebrate there! 

The pasta finally arrived after we had to move inside post surprise thunderstorm, and in the glow of candles and dim, sexytime lighting I met my love. A perfect swirl of al dente bucatini tossed in a light cream & cheese sauce spotted with freshly cracked pepper, and then an egg yolk perfectly contained and sitting on top like a fucking queen was almost too much to handle. I cracked the yolk and damn, this was one of those moments I wish my eyeballs had a camera built in because I was too engrossed in it to capture it on video. 

This pasta was exactly as good as I wanted it to be and how Instagram made it look, and we all know Instagram is a catfish playground and with all the fuckin gross food going viral because of it you can never quite trust it... but this was good, tried & true. I’m thinking graduation round 2 dinner might be here in the spring... hmmmm.

Oh and the wine menu is dope as well, any nice red would pair well with the spicy + flavorful appetizers and the freshness of the pasta selection. 

2. De Cero (slash) Hello Tacos! 

Ok so the name of this restaurant still confuses me as it used to be De Cero and then they changed it to Hello Tacos! but both show up if you Google it... I promise it’s the same place. This was sooo the shocker of my summer because I was taken against my will to get tacos with my family after a nine hour bus ride from Nashville back to Chicago, and I wanted to shower and curl up in a clean, controlled environment for like five hours before entering the world again but the parents were hungry. And they were kind enough to drive downtown to pick me up, so to turn down a nice dinner out would have just been rude and extremely stupid. So off we went in search of something tasty and my dad suggested De Cero, which we walked into and instantly fell in love with. Even though I smelled like an actual dumpster (the Megabus is not a glamorous way of transit, but I love it) I was instantly coated by the scent of fresh tortilla chips, smoky spices, and freshly sliced lime. We sat down in a cozy wooden booth under a wall of beautiful quilts and were immediately offered a drink (their flavored margaritas are DELICIOUS) and told to pick 3 (!!!) salsas from their list of options. As someone who believes in coating everything I eat in like sixteen sauces, getting to pick three salsas and receiving huge bowls of them was absolute heaven.  We got the Warm Chipotle which is for sure my favorite, imagine just a heavy, garlicky red salsa that’s delightfully toasty, the Tomatillo Lime Verde, and the Pico de Gallo. Later when I came back with a friend (legitimately one week later), I changed out the Pico for the Mango Habanero and it was incredible. I hate mango with every inch of my body, but in the way they marinated and treated the salsa it looses the tropical zing and is just really moist and sweet. All of these salsas? BOMB.COM. Exceptionally flavorful, and more than enough to bring home with you after. 

For dinner, my dad and I got the Grilled Mahi Mahi tacos and HOLY GUACAMOLE THEY WERE FAB. The most succulent, meaty fish fillets dripping with marinate and then topped with an asparagus compote and then doused in avocado puree, all in a corn tortilla that can barely support the weight. These tacos were some of the best fish tacos I’ve ever had, and when I went back with my friend I tested my “was it good or was I starving” test by getting the exact same thing, and loved them all over again. Go check this place out, it’s cozy and adorable and offers epic Mexican cuisine!! 

3. Bar Siena 

This might be my favorite spot on the street so far, but it also has the most options and isn’t too crazily priced so that could be a big factor! Bar Siena sits on a corner a little further down Randolph and is the perfect mix of upscale-bar and classy Italian, with a giant light-up tree in the middle growing up through the second floor that offers scenic seating of the skyline and the rest of Randy. With a menu bursting with wood fired pizza, pasta, antipasta, cheeses, and OF COURSE some fancy as heck cocktails, it’s really really really hard to decide what you want for dinner. Yet, because I’m me, both times I’ve been there I’ve ordered the same entree. Some highlights on the menu (a mix of mine and those I’ve dined with who eat meat) include: 

- Roasted Meatballs: IF I COULD EAT THESE, I WOULD. They come in a little dish of sauces, cheese, and with garlic bread on the side. Oh hellll yes. 

- Burrata: This is the best burrata I’ve ever had. On crispy toast with thick, creamy burrata and apricot jam, topped with sea salt and some crunchy nuts, it’s a 10/10 combo. Get it.

- Kale & Granny Smith Salad: It’s a good, simple salad that’s light and refreshing with so much hearty food. 

- The Prosciutto-Fig Pizza: IF I WAS A PIZZA, THIS WOULD BE ME. Even without the meat the spiced pistachio, truffle honey, and cheese on top of a perfectly baked white pizza is indulgently delicious. If I ever became a stripper, my name would be Truffle Honey in honor of this pizza. 

- Wild Mushroom & Garlic Pizza: Lots of mushrooms, lots of cream and cheese, very good. 

- SWEET CORN RAVIOLI: THIS IS IT. THIS IS THE PASTA OF MY DREAMS. CORN RAV STUFFED WITH MORE CORN, SAUCE, TRUFFLE BUTTER, MUSHROOMS, AND GOD’S LOVE. 

AND THE WINE LIST IS GREAT TOO. 

Y’all don’t skimp on dessert either; Bar Siena is attached to Bombo Bar, the small coffee shop and donut seller on the side with a walk-up window. They have the famed hot chocolate and matcha topped with a coordinating donut, biscotti or cookie, whipped cream, and sprinkles and toppings out the wazoo. They are absolutely crazy but soooo delicious and the hot coco is perfect for a cold winter day when you just want to get out of the house for a small adventure! 

Some other hits along this strip are Soho House, Kaiser Tiger, and Maude’s. Soho House is an ~elite~ club that’s in an ancient, elegant building tucked off on a side street that has a cafe and breakfast nook on the first floor which offers delicious coffee and perfect vibes for writing, reading, and girl’s talk on a rainy afternoon. Kaiser Tiger is a warehouse turned bar that’s open, loud, inviting, and has a unique menu of bratwurst and cheese plates. It’s great for a drink or to grab a nicer bite before heading to the United Center for a game! And Maude’s is somewhere that’s on my wish list- I am DYING to go get a drink in this blue & white dream! The outside is cute as a button and I imagine the inside is even better. I love having places I can’t wait to try out, it keeps this city so fresh! 

Until next time, Happy Eating!

-Natalie 

[shinymills]

Plague Ship

Before I lay out my last words, I want to say - I want to say that I know I deserve whats happened. We all do, for more'n a few reasons I guess. We ain't good folk. Poverty, war, famine, it'll change people ... You either learn to strip away morals and survive, or you cling to civilization and you die. Us, we survived. Till now, leastwise.

We had a pretty tidy system worked out, you see? Didn't - didn't work all the time course, not even seventy percent of it, but it worked, enough that it got me and my crew from point A to B with food in our belly, the air in our lungs, and fuel in our ship. All'a the things we needed to survive and thrive.

Whenever supplies would start running low we'd set ourselves up as a ... A, whatcha call them? Angler fish, yeah. We'd send out a nice little signal. Not always the same one though, fast way to have people catching on right there. Stuck close to the Rim when we'd be playing lure - less chance of patrols or some shit answering, playing well-meaning knights when we all fuckin know ... We *all* fuckin know anyone rescued by any of the Corporations ends up shoved into Indentured until their 'debts' is paid up. 

Shit, sorry, rambling. Hard to focus lately. Hard to stay in one line, one... One thought, you know? My head comes and it goes, I guess you could say. My crew - my crew ... They haven't been so lucky as to just - to just be having trouble with thoughts staying in lines, with their minds staying in place. Don't know yet if that means I'm the lucky one, or if ... If my luck was just shittier, cause I get to watch everyone crumble down. 

Fuck... Fuck, fuck, fuck, still rambling. Yeah. Sorry. Where was I? Oh, yeah. Lures. We was low on O2, yeah? And fuel, but O2 was the big concern. Getting anywhere don't matter much if you're fuckin dead, right? Yeah. We'd set up a distress signal to send out a basic S.O.S, powered down the auxiliary functions, and sat back to play the waiting game.

People - People think living on the edge of civilization, the rims of society, nothing but action, danger, and drawn out fights trading blasters shots and witty - witty barbs back and forth. Not so much, yeah? Lot of times, we're just waiting for someone to snap up the lure. Little tense, mostly quiet, but that would make for boring fuckin vids, right? Yeah.

Shit - Fuck, rambling. Sorry. Yeah, anyways, so we sat back and we're there waiting to see who, if anybody, gonna show up. Hours we waited there, quiet, and dark. Me and my men, we was startin’ to think maybe we was gonna have to pull up shop, try another sector or something like, when Haugh calls out all soft like that a ship's come into range.

Not a - not a *second* after he's said that we're getting hailed. Cheers us right the fuck up, cause we was all getting antsy as hell. Course we don't fuckin answer. Just let'em keep hailin away as they pull up alongside us. Isn't long at all before we're feeling the ship rumblin’ and shakin’ as the dock with us. Which is ... See it was odd thinkin’ on now, yeah. Most of'em, they hail longer, yeah. Cautious. Not them. Eager like. Fuckin eager. Should've - should've fuckin’ ... Don't matter. Don't fuckin’ matter anyway.

Me and my crew, meanwhile, we've already gotten into position on either side of the airlock and we're .... and we're - we're fuckin waiting, yeah? The minute the hatch open blasters are drawn and we're fuckin on them. Didn't put up much of a fight. No fight, none, just ... just went down like tissue paper, all four. One had - had a weapon on'em, but the other three just had medical lookin, high shit. Never seen nothin’ like it before.

Me and the crew, we was countin ourselves *so* fuckin lucky as we looked over that shit. Was obvious we'd managed to snag an honest to god Medi Ship. This haul, this *fuckin* haul, we was sure to be set for the next few months. Thought our luck had finally turned for the better. Countin - it was counting chickens before they was hatched. Yeah.

Second we stepped through the airlock we knew shit wasn't right. Remember - remember what I was saying about them blaster fights people always thinkin life on the Rim is like? What it looked like inside that ship. Couldn't see no bodies. Plenty of blood, yeah... no bodies. Should've left right then. Iverson - Iverson, young boy, maybe all of seventeen, wanted to. Only one with the sense he was. Only one with any - with any kinda sense. Was a good kid. Good kid. Didn't - he didn't ... But Haugh went callin’ him a pussy. Got some of the men laughing and, yeah, he quieted down quick enough. Should've listened - should've ... Should've left, but we was low on food, fuel.

We swept through the ship, real thorough like. Weren't sure what the hell happened, didn't want caught in the middle of some kinda mutiny or some shit. Never found any real survivors. Not - not really. Found a few bodies. Some of'em weren't right,  they didn’t look *right*. Less - the less said about that, the better. Few of'em looked like they could've been responsible for the mess outside of the airlock. All of'em wore uniforms, some of'em doctors and nurses ...those ones, they were the worst off. Someone had had a fuckin’ hate-on for them poor bastards. Rest of'em looked like the might've been security. All of'em had Corporate logo stamped on their uniforms.

Should've left right fuckin’ then. Just forgot about the haul and just ... And just tried again somewhere else. But we was fuckin’ desperate, and stupid as shit. Stupid gets you killed out here, every time, stupid gets you killed out here.

Last room we came on was ... It had hospital bed, yeah. Only living thing left in that ship, near as we could tell, and he was dead to the fuckin world. Had a little nametag on his shirt that read Moore. Strapped to the bed, straps across his fuckin stomach, and ankles, wrists, and lookin like he was off playin’ out in the stars. There was charts on the wall, X-rays and shit. Bunch of medical mumbo jumbo. Couldn't make heads or tails of any of it. Haugh put a bullet in his head. Pissed Iverson off ... He was a good kid, good kid. Haugh just said he was dead either way. Weren't wrong. 

We didn't waste time getting everything we needed back our ship. Place was - it was just ... We was fucking stupid. So fuckin’ stupid. Just - should've just left. Fresh air was fucking amazing though, let me tell ya.  And the food we got from them. That fuckin’ food, man. It was - it was just ... Fresh fruit. Iverson, he'd never even fucking seen a fruit that weren't dehydrated first. That boy was damned near cryin’ when he took his first bite of a pear. Juicy, yeah? Crunchy ... With - with the sweet drippin’ juice, and he said it was the best fuckin’ thing, yeah. Best fuckin’ thing. We ate their food, breathed their air, and tried to forget that ship.

Fuck, shit. Sorry. My mind it wants… it doesn't like lines, straight lines so much. Anymore. Moments, sometimes it gets hard to make it stay in the line, it wants to stray, lead away. But I've got to finish what I'm fuckin’ saying. For me. My men. So fuck that.

Week or so on, we're on our way to greener pastures. Love that saying. Ain't nothing green to be seen out in this darkness. Always liked that sayin’ though. S'nice. Yeah. Bigger and better things, maybe. Different, at least. We've done forgot about that Medi Ship, out of sight out of - out of mind. Yeah. 

Two weeks in and Iverson accused Haugh of trying to steal his thoughts, trying to - to worm his way into his mind. Said he only did what he did because Moore told him to. That the only way to keep Haugh out of his head was to go and - and drill straight into the man's fuckin skull. Iverson was - he was a kid, and him ... Him doin’ somethin like this threw us all for a fuckin’ loop. Fucking crazy. 

Sometimes people's just too good, can't handle the things we’ve gotta do to survive. Me - I figured Iverson still ... I figured he was still pissed at Haugh about shooting that Moore guy like he did. Fuckin’ stupid lookin back now, yeah. So, so fucking stupid. Only thing that made sense at the time though. Yeah.

Didn't know… wasn't sure what to do with him. Didn't want to space him. Some of the crew did, yeah. He went and drilled a goddamned hole in a man's head. And my crew… Can't blame them. But he was a good kid, didn't wanna do that. Tied him up, stuffed him in the Med Bay. Figured ... I figured he'd be safe enough there. Just keep him there till we could figure things out.

Two days after that - just, two fucking days, I walked in the Med Bay to find Ricks, our half assed drunk of a doc, tryin' to fillet Iverson. I say tryin’ cause... He ain't never had the steadiest of hands. Always drunk. But he had a surgical saw in hand, and he'd been - he must've been at it for a while, cause ... Cause most of that boy's left leg was gone. He was still alive, but he weren't - he weren't ... Only reason it went on for so long was cause he weren't screaming. When I walked in Iverson was just watchin’ him. He looked so, so fucking calm. Like it was what was supposed to be happenin’. 

Iverson, he didn't last much longer after that. He never screamed though ... He looked so fuckin calm the entire time. So goddamned calm. Ricks ... They asked him why the fuck they did that. He weren't even friends with Haugh. We all thought, everybody thought ... Just figured it was him getting back. Angry, and getting back. Hard. Yeah. But he goes and says that it was on account of Moore tellin’ him that he had to start getting ready for the winter.

I don't know what to fuckin’ do. Crew's wanting to space'em, cause fuckin Christ, he just carved that boy up. And I'm - I’m wanting to, too. I ain't too proud to admit I was fuckin scared ... Confused. Didn't know what…  didn't what to do. And Moore again. Moore. Don't understand it. We space Ricks. Don't even have to drag him, he just - he just walks. Keeps goin’ on about how he's ready for winter, and not to worry on up until Singh shoves him in. It's not a relief seeing him sucked out the airlock. Should've - it should've been. It ain't.

Three days after that, my first mate, Vorster, he, I find him in the armory with Singh. He's got ... Singh is on his back, willing like. Just watching the ceiling, smilin’, and - and Vorster is wrist-deep in the man’s stomach. Got - he's got some of his ... Some of his fuckin insides pulled outside, and somehow, I don't fuckin’ understand it, but Singh is still alive and smilin’, and lookin so fucking happy to be there. Minute I walk in they both look at me. Same time. Just stare. Vorster keeps moving his hands around inside Singh's stomach before pullin’ out this loop of the man's intestines and - and he, Singh - he helps and I can't help it, I throw up. I've seen some shit, but that was... It weren't right. 

Afterwards, I'm questioning Vorster and he's tellin’ me all about how Moore had told him and Singh that he had to help Singh dig some kinda - some kinda sickness out of him. Singh's dead, course. There ain't ... Just ain't no comin' back from that. Ain't. Can't ask him. But he looked so…  he looked so fuckin’ happy, and I don't know what to fucking think. Vorster gets spaced. Shoved out the airlock. 

Keeps happening. One after the other. My crew. My men. They just keep going after each other, mostly like they're - like they're willing like. One or two put up a fight. Damned good fight. Me. Me, I stick to my cabin now. Just ... just stay in my cabin. Some fuckin’ captain I am. Hiding in my own ship like a fuckin’ stowaway. I can hear Davidson, I think it's Davidson, outside my door sometimes. Talkin about fuckin’ Moore. I don't listen though. I don't. Ain't gonna fuckin listen. 

If I do, if I do, got my gun right beside me. Ready to open a new hole in my head. Yeah. I just ... This ain't me seekin’ no kinda forgiveness,  no atonement. Don't regret my life, don't regret - don't regret a damned thing I've ever done, 'cept one. Should've left that fuckin ship. Minute we saw what was in there, should've fuckin left and never looked back. 

And Moore, I tell him that, and he… He says I’m right. We probably should’ve turned right around. Left. But he’s awful glad we stopped.

[queennicoleinboots]

Day 18 of Xara and Peter's Curse: The Shitty Pool Party, part 1

(Scroll down to figure out what happened to Days 14-17)

Jasper found a small brick house with a pool in Athens, GA. He and Murphee moved there. Gabby walked all the way from Winder, GA to find the house, so when Jasper and Murphee arrived, he was there on the front steps waiting. Gabby was a magical cat that always knew how to find Jasper.

I helped Jasper, Murphee, and Gabby get settled in their new humble yet cozy abode. It didn't take long to get the new furniture or the new desktop computer in the house.

Murphee had a fenced-in background where he could roam around and play. He also could access the pool if he were to press an access code into the pool gate with his paw.

Gabby always had access to the pool, but he chose not to swim. He walked around the pool deck like a boss, though.

"Wow. I definitely did good with this house," Jasper said.

"I'd say. It's very neat and minimalistic," I said.

"I told you I wasn't going to pay those excess bills I was before," Jasper said with a laugh. "Not to mention this pool actually is clean and makes sense. It's not radioactive like the last one was."

"I know. Your pool looks tantalizing to swim in," I said. "We should have a pool party!"

"What a fine idea!" Jasper exclaimed. "When should we have it?"

"Friday!" I exclaimed.

"There you go. That way, every one of our asshole friends will be off work!" Jasper said excitedly with a laugh.

Murphee howled in agreement.

"I'm going to invite my asshole friends now!" I said.

"And I'll invite mine!" he said.

So we spent the next few hours calling our friends. I called Joebear, Peter, Mr. Williamson, Dereck (my friend from Canada), and even some old friends in Savannah, GA. (I was raised there.)

-------------------------------------------------

(Days 14-17 were full of random bullshit and getting ready for the party. Dereck came early to help Xara and Jasper prepare. Dereck discovered how fucking stupid Georgia, United States was)

_________________________________________

Friday, 10 a.m. when Xara and Jasper were barely alive and slaphappy

"I'm so happy my pool deck isn't dry rotted!!!" Jasper said excitedly.

"Me, too," I said. "I love the marble tiled deck." I heard buzzing in the background.

"Did the exterminators come by?" I asked.

Jasper answered, "It's Georgia. No one ever does their job on time. They were supposed to come yesterday, but I expect them to come Monday."

LaBelle, my 40-year-old black friend from Savannah, GA, enters the pool area. "Good morning!"

Jasper "greeted" her. "Morning. If I were at my job this early, I'd tell you 'Fuck you. Don't talk to me before noon. I can't deal with this shit.'"

LaBelle and Xara cracked up laughing.

"I'm serious. The only reason I opened up early because I have a million people showing up to this party," Jasper said.

"A million? Dude, are you a Playboy or something?" LaBelle asked him as she was putting her hair up.

Jasper answered, "In my own mind. I do have a ton of young girls coming over. Hehe. Speaking of young girls, where's the masseuse? She was supposed to be here at... 9:45 or something." He scratched his head.

Dereck, Xara's normal and relatively quiet Canadian friend, smiled as he was viewing everyone's activities. He watched LaBelle go into the pool.

LaBelle screamed in pleasure. "Wow! That's refreshing!

Dereck walks over to where she was and tries to talk, but words wouldn't come out. He was a shy guy when it came to women. He wasn't sure what language to use.

I sighed and looked around. "Where is my bear?" I asked.

Murphee walked on the pool deck next to my feet.

Dereck was getting ready to swim. He did a couple of stretches before he dove in the water with LaBelle.

My phone was ringing. It was Mr. Williamson. I answered the phone. "Hello?"

Mr. Williamson spoke, "Hi Zara." He couldn't pronounce X-ara. "We can't make it. I have an emergency sermon I need to do for the needy in Logantown."

I responded, "Well, that happens. See you bright and early Monday."

Mr. Williamson said, "Thank you. See you Monday. Bye bye."

I said, "Bye bye." I hung up and then pinched nose to talk, "Bright and early."

People started coming into the pool area. A few of Jasper's ladies were getting massages and giving him massages.

Lizzie and her three children: Miguel, Skyler, and Nathaniel were entering the pool area. Her best friend and my former friend, Nadella and her husband and two children: Adrian and Samus followed her into the area.

A blonde girl addressed Jasper while she was massaging his shoulders. Her head was very close to his right ear. "Hey Jaspie. Want a happy ending?" she asked.

Jasper answered with a grin as he looked at the lady sweetly. "Haha. Maybe later. I don't want to end yet. This is going to be a LONG pool party."

Joebear shows up with fish, berries, and many cans of Surge. He also brings supplies for grilling.

I screamed in happiness upon seeing my bear coming in with food. "BAEWHUHH!!!!!!" I ran to Joebear and hugged him.

Joebear laughed and hugged me. "Little Bae. I gotta make fish. Where's the grill?"

"It's in the far right corner of the pool area, Boo," I answered as I led him to the grill. "Jasper has plenty of charcoal."

Joebear went to grill and put fish fillets on it: "Yes, my love," he said as he did a bear dance while he cooked.

I told my bear, "Thank you, Boo!" as I scratched his fur. "How you been? I missed you."

Most of Jasper's ladies chanted while Joebear wiggled his ass, "Look at him go! Look at him go! Look at him Look at him Look at him goooooo! Look at that bear with a big bear butt!!! A beautiful bear with a beautiful butt!"

I was beating his ass to the rhythm of the song.

Joebear laughed and wiggled his butt. "I have been good. Donuts sound yummy right about now!"

"Fuck! I forgot the donuts!" Jasper yelled.

Skyler, Lizzie's daughter, cracked up. Lizzie chuckled while Nadella shook her head in disgust. Nadella was one of those strict wholesome pagan-Christian moms who went to every Parent-Teacher Association meeting and had something to say.

I yelled, "So did I. I'm on a diet!!!!"

Jasper asked, "Who hasn't shown up yet?"

"Peter Parker and his family," I answered.

"Peter Parker? Spiderman! You invited Spiderman?" Miguel, the oldest of Lizzie's children, asked.

"No. Peter W. Parker, formerly-known as Super Coping Man before he had a mental breakdown a year and a half ago," I answered.

Lizzie laughed. "Oh yeah, the comic NOT meant for children. God it was funny," she said.

"I'll second that!" Jerome, Nadella's black husband, commented.

Nadella rolled her eyes and continued reading Best Parent magazine while sunbathing.

"Son of a fuck! Text him and tell that bastard to bring donuts!" Jasper yelled. "P.S. I was Headquarters/FartMan. Xara invited him because he's an ape."

Nadella's mouth opened as she threw her hands in the air. "My children are going to hell if this guy keeps up," she said in a strong Southern accent.

Joebear laughed and spoke, "Oh God he's showing up. He's a fucking mess."

Jasper commented, "He's an actual ape."

Joebear blinked a few times before commenting, "I thought he'd be a giraffe if anything!"

I chimed in, "Nope. He turned into a fucking ape."

Joebear raised his eyebrow. "Wow! How did that happen?"

"Long story," I answered.

Joebear spoke again, "Tell me later. I gotta flip this fish." He flipped the fish.

I text messaged Peter, "Hey asshole. Can you guys bring seven dozens of random donuts? We're fucking stupid and forgot them."

I then turned my attention to my bear. "It involves black magic."

Joebear slapped his forehead with his left paw while he was cooking, "Oh God I thought I told you not to turn otherwise decent people into animals!"

I answered with an exasperated sigh, "It happened the same day Artemis Stank was born! I couldn't help it. My shits are magical."

Joebear spoke loudly, "Oh God. Why did you do that to him? He was fucked-up enough as a human."

Nadella was hitting herself with a parenting magazine. "Fuck it," she muttered.

I yelled to Joebear, "It just kinda happened. I'm sorry BAE WHUHhhhh!!!!!"

Joebear added, "Whuhhhhhhhh."

Lizzie walked over to the grill and smiled. "Hey Joebear. Are you making fish?"

Lizzie's daughter, Skyler was standing behind her staring at Joebear with a grin and waving to him.

Joebear addressed the girls. "Hey Lizzie. Hey Skyler. How are you?"

Lizzie responded, "I'm good."

Skyler responded, "Good."

Joebear made Homer Simpson noises.

Peter returned my text. "Sure. Let me find my magical wallet that can afford that. @_@ I didn't get much cash for my house insurance policy."

Godiva, Peter's mother, texted, "No worries. We can get donuts. Peter is in an asshole mood because our TV went on the fritz in some freak accident."

Godiva sent a second text. "He told me to text you this, 'Anything else?' He used ape language to ask in real life, lol."

Yep. Peter is the biggest ape asshole on the planet...

[a-case-of-neverland]

The Storm is Here, Part Five

the last part of the Storm is Here! When It Rains, It Pours, the sequel, is being worked on. 

The hideaway of the Gases was a bit old fashioned. Red walls, dark curtains standing for doors, dark wooden floors mopped with hydrogen peroxide to get the stains off. Large lounge chairs dotted the living room, an old Victrola sat in the corner, lazily spinning a record on it’s turntable. Krypton walked into her private room she shared with Neon to remove her jewelry, setting her jewels back in their velvet lined case Neon had gotten her for her birthday last year. Neon followed, setting her spiked club next to their door.

“What you think ol’ Ash is thinking?” Neon asked, taking off her bandana as Krypton set her heels in the closet.

The glamorous girl shrugged in reply. “I know whatever it is, he’ll tell us soon.”

“I sure hope so,” Neon muttered. “Or I’mma force it out of him.”

“September 8th, 1934.

I don’t know what’s brewing in this stupid town. There’s something lingering in the shadows of every street- More than usual. I blame the Gases for making me paranoid. Surely they’re not stupid not to deliver the money soon. Oh well. If they don’t, I know what to do. Ethan wants to write them a note, but he can’t even write.

Lillian’s said she took care of a girl going by the name Roxana Pemberton. Sounds a little familiar, doesn’t it? Girl had her entire back covered in scratches, like it’d been filleted by a hook. Not sure if it’s actually Radon’s sister or not yet. But there was another kid that came in at the same time as her going by Owen Caputi whose entire head was covered in blood. I have no idea if these two are connected.

But for some reason I can’t get the thought out of my mind…

Aaron has told me he saw a Gas headed into the general store and come out with a woman in a low back brown dress and heels. Said he’d never seen her before. What are those damned fools up to now?

It’s Eric’s night to cook. Hope he doesn’t make fish.”

Radon looked up from the journal and rolled his eyes. Captain always had been one for the theatrics. Was he staging his own journal?

Or did he really not know that Quartermaster had ripped up Raz and Jackie?

Had Captain had nothing to do with this? It was a Pyrate gone rogue?

But why?

Radon knew one thing.

He was damn sure gonna find out.

Newt blew the smoke off his revolver as a hole appeared in the shop’s window with a satisfying shatter. The young man behind the counter leapt back and lifted his hands in surrender.

“Please sir, take anything! Just please, please don't shoot me!” He cried.

Newt rolled his eyes. “I'm not here to rob you. And I don't kill ya, either, if you answer me good. Got it?” He leaned across the counter, narrowing his eyes.

The salesman nodded quickly, his eyes round with fear. “Yes- Yes sir.”

“Damn right.” Newt nodded, slipping his gun into his sleeve, so the handle stuck out. “You sell hooks here?”

“We do, sir.” The man nodded again.

“Tell me all about the people that came in here lookin’ for hooks, yeah?” Newt said.

The man looked even more distressed. “Uh, not many sir. Only one.”

Newt scoffed. “Well that narrows it down a hell of a lot. Tell me more.”

“A- A man, sir. Black hair. Many tattoos. Shifty. I think he stole even more than he bought, sir. Had a woman with him, a pretty one. A low-back brown dress, she did, sir. She didn’t speak a word, sir.”

A raised brow. Newt pulled out a notepad from his pocket and said, “Details, boy. Give me more details about the man.” Letting his gun stick out a little more in his sleeve.

A drop of sweat fell from the salesman’s forehead and landed on the counter. “Y-Yes sir, of course. He was about five foot eleven, dark hair and eyes, not very distinct. Could blend into a crowd easy, you know, sir?”

Newt was writing as the man spoke, before slipping it back into his notebook. “One more thing before I go. Here’s some money.” He handed the salesman a five. “Use it to get some damn better windows.”

And then he walked out, knowing he had a lot to tell Ash.

“I don’t get it. What’s this mean?” Xenon asked, wide eyed as he looked around at everyone.

“Gods, Wren, has that sniper hit you too many times or what?” Neon snapped. “It means that a Pyrate didn’t do this. None of the Pyrates line up with this.”

“Unless they hired someone,” Helium mused, writing another note and ripping it from the pad.

“Also plausible.” Krypton nodded. “I just don’t get it, though. Why even bother with this? What do they hope to gain?”

Helium looked like he could go for a drink. A long sigh escaped his mouth and he stood up, beginning to pace before he tacked another note to the corkboard. “Who did this?” He asked to no one in particular, running a hand through his ginger orange hair.

“I’d like to know that too.” A new voice said.

The entire crew snapped into one state of mind, all drawing their weapons and aiming them at the front door. There, in their doorway, stood Radon. The tall, lean criminal was hard and tough looking, especially now, but there were flaws in his facade, per usual. Dark circles under his eyes. A weariness in his stance, like he was tired but wouldn’t allow his body the rest. Nonetheless, he had a gun of his own and wasn’t hiding it, spinning it in one hand.

“What do you want, Radon?” Newt asked. “It’s six on one. You can’t beat us in a gunfight.”

Radon only shrugged. “I’m not that stupid, Throne. I know. I just have questions now. More.” A glint came over his eye. “And it’s in your best interest to answer them, or I swear by the gods-” With every word his voice gathered strength until it was almost a yell. “I will rip Ichor apart brick by brick with my bare hands until I find the low-life that did this.”

Persephone was the first to lower her gun. She sauntered up to the criminal with ease, navigating the sea of her fellow gang members and put an arm around him, her voice a purr. “Listen, sugar, I’m sure whatever it is, you can come on in and we can talk about it, yeah?”

As if he hadn’t already let himself in- Somehow. “Some whiskey work for you? Helium don’t mind sharing, do you, hmm? Thought so.” She led Radon over to their liquor cabinet and opened it with one fingernail, pulling out a bottle and setting on the table like a peace offering. “Now, sugar, sit down, would you?”

Radon glared at the rest of the gang, looking them up and down. It was clear he wouldn’t sit until they put their guns down. Argon was easy to crack, their handgun went right back into their bag as they sat back comfortably with a notebook. Xenon followed after, his sniper going back in his case with ease. Newt and Neon both had to give Helium looks first, who nodded. Hey, it was better than Radon blowing up everything.

Helium sat down beside Krypton and across from Radon, who hadn’t touched the bottle yet.

“Ask away, Radon.” He finally said, Neon and Newt retreating to opposite corners, their guns just inside their sleeves. Just in case.

“The hell did one of you do with a woman in a low back brown dress goin’ in the general store?” Radon blurted, leaning forward, like he would absorb the information as soon as he heard it.

Immediately, Helium glanced at Krypton, who wrinkled her nose. “Nobody wears brown dresses anymore, sugarplum. No one with a good sense of style, anyways.”

“Where did you even get that information anyways?” Helium asked.

Radon’s voice morphed into a growl. “Nothing you need to know.”

“It might be helpful,” Helium muttered, rolling his eyes. This is why he didn’t like working with Radon. He showed up, uninvited, demanded things from people, and left. While not leaving you with a scrap of information of why he was here.

Radon snapped, “I regret to inform you sir that you will not be the receptor of such knowledge. Now which one of you fucks went to the general store with a lady in a dress?”

Newt stood up away from the wall before walking over. “A low-back brown?” He asked, raising one of his brows and sitting down next to Helium.

“Yes, idiot.” Radon replied, venom in his voice.

Newt took a deep breath. “Okay. I have a better idea of who did this. I interrogated a shopkeeper, the general store clerk. He said there was one person who came in for a hook the other day. A man with a woman in a brown, low-back dress. Not one of us, but no Pyrate either. Descriptions don’t line up with anyone we know in this town.”

While Newt spoke, Krypton watched Radon’s expression. It was as if his mind had reached a conclusion, but his heart couldn’t believe it. In a swift motion, he pulled out a knife and drove it into the table, safely away from any fingers. “Describe him. Now.” His voice was tight and high, as if only years of self discipline were keeping him controlled.

Newt recalled the information with surprising speed. But that wasn’t hard, really, with Radon demanding it from him.

“Black hair. Tattooed. Could easily blend into a crowd. Steals more than he buys. Dark hair and eyes, five foot eleven.”

It wasn’t even the end of Newt’s description when Radon let out a string of curses and yanked his knife from the table, running out the front door of the base as quickly as he’d come.

“...Well that was, something.” Krypton said after a moment of quiet. “Hope he finishes off this business.” She took off her white gloves and shook them out, a bit of dust coming off. “There we go,” She purred to herself before getting up and leaving the room, as if nothing of importance had ever happened. Neon waited a moment before following her, pulling her bandana off her face as she went.

Argon looked over at Helium and asked, “What do you think will happen now?”

“It’s pouring now, gang. Pouring and storming.” Helium said quietly before he took a sip of whiskey and put it back in the cabinet.

[mellonmarshnote2-blog]

Special Note 2

Dear Samantha and Julien, I cannot believe that either one of you would volunteer for something like this. I did it on accident, I didn't know any better. Sure, you will see that all of the books and movies are talking about people like you. But you will never be the same. Things will never be the same again. I think of how my life was before all of this, I think of how I thought, what I knew. And what I didn't know. Akberet (AK) doesn't think that I should be teaching Julien this stuff. Her concern is that it will rob him of his childhood. The good doctor, however, thinks that it is "a foregone conclusion" that his childhood is already gone, so he is ready, this is the right thing to do. I understand AK's concern because she is right. You will never be the same. It will be the end of your childhood.  And you can never un-know what you know. AK doesn't even think I should be teaching Samantha this stuff. She has no faith in me. Again, I understand her concern. She is right, this is dangerous stuff and should be approached with caution. I am telling you right now, in the interest of full disclosure, that there are risks involved, especially since you two are the first students of my own home-grown spiritual advisory lessons. Know that I am aware of this fact and that is why I am using Joseph Campbell's book as a backdrop for these teachings.  I admit to you right now that I am known, both among Earthllings as well as celestial beings, for being reckless and impulsive. So you are both either very courageous, or naive, or both. Either way, it is my firm belief that if you think you are ready, then you are ready. So read on if you are, and don't if you're not. I know I am. Now with that out of the way. As Jesus said, I could give you a fish, but that would be lame. Better that I teach you how to fish. So get your fishing poles and tackle boxes and come take a walk with me. You want quality, not quantity. Always. Whether it is wine, women, weed, or the world wide web, when it comes to what you feed your mind, you want only the best. Ten Mcdonald's cheeseburgers does not a fillet mignon make. You are not going to school for the reasons they want you to be going. You are not going to learn how to be a better slave. The only reason you are going to school is to learn how to think. Because the only difference between you and a monkey is your mind. So use it. No matter what you do, always be thinking, always be learning. In every experience, in every situation. And remember, it does not matter how much you know, it matters what you know. Intelligence is knowing what to know. Wisdom is knowing how to know what to know. Knowing what to spend your time thinking about is everything. Feeling the beauty of your own magnificent thoughts flowing through your mind is it's own reward. You must love to hear yourself think, you must love the sound and feeling of your own thoughts moving and developing in your mind, and nothing else matters. This is the most priceless of luxuries, and must be earned. It is not a given, it does not come automatically. If it was, and if it did, everybody would be doing it. And they're not. Learn with a vengeance, like you intend to do damage, and don't stop until your thoughts are downright scary and almost lethal for the status quo to behold. But keep it all to yourself. Do not throw rocks down on the sheep below. Even though they will ask for it, beg for it, don't do it. Be peaceful and have respect and compassion for your fellow man. Nietzsche identified gravity as one of the planes of hell. So keep a sense of humor and a lightness in your step. Your gonna need it when things get too heavy so you can break it up with comic relief. Master language, speaking, and writing and you will master thinking. After all, your thoughts are merely reflections of your manner of speaking. Talk and write like a slave and you will think like a slave. Talk and write like a master and you will think like a master. Do not use your power to control others, only to master yourself. Do not compare yourself to those around you. Imagine an impossible ideal and measure yourself according to it. Do not beat yourself up because you cannot reach this impossible ideal, just do the best you can. It is to be seen as a guide, a point of reference, a way to know which way to go. Do not be afraid of failure and do not be afraid of success. Every experience is always just a means for learning how to think and behave better. Julien, I do not know if it is a good idea or not for you to boycott all music made after Y2K. But the fact that you chose to do so shows that you have a sense of commitment, and can dedicate yourself to a worthy cause. Giving a straight up middle finger to the heros of your generation is a very admirable trait. It is what I did as well. My generation invented the power ballad, some of the worst music ever to float across the radio waves. Do a YouTube search for the song "Sister Christian" by the band Night Ranger and you will see what I mean. It was also the generation of Reaganomics and the beginning of the Bush dynasty. This paved the way for the cons to realize that they could actually dump a chump like Trump on the people and he could actually win. Go team U.S.A.! Yay! What will they think of next?!!! Don't even try to figure out why people cannot tell the difference between their asses and a hole in the ground. It is baffling, confusing and frustrating, but know that just when you think there is no way that it could get any more stupid, it doubles. Ignore that noise and stay focused. When you have ridden shooting stars you will laugh at the schmucks who tell you that money and status are the measures of your success. They are fools of the first division who have no idea what they are even talking about. Every thing is cyclical. It all runs in cycles. Things come and go and come back and go again. Learn to see the patterns. Patterns in both the small scale, as in your personal life, and on the large scale, as in society, nature, and the universe. The universe vibrates at a particular frequency (8Hz). Everything vibrates at some particular frequency.  Since the theme we are discussing is the power of the mind it is very interesting to note: "If the two hemispheres of our brain are synchronized with each other at 8Hz, they work more harmoniously and with a maximum flow of information. In other words, the frequency of 8Hz seems to be the key to the full and sovereign activation potential of our brain."  The site I got this from goes on to say that normal music, where the 'A' note is tuned to 440hz, is wrong and fucks up your brain. According to the site, music that has the 'A' note tuned to 432hz is in perfect harmony with the 8Hz frequency of nature and the universe and so is good for you and heals your mind.  For more information on vibrations and healing musical vibrations go to the sight: attunedvibrations.com/432hz-healing/. "The Law of vibration might not be as well known as the Law of Attraction. However - the Law of Vibration serves as the foundation for the Law of Attraction. To understand this it is important to know that everything is energy. Science, through Quantum Physics, is showing us that everything in our universe is energy. When we go down to a sub-atomic level we do not find matter, but pure energy. Some call this the unified field or the matrix. Others talk about pure potentiality - all being energy." There is a reason I am discussing this. The Law of Attraction says that you attract the things that happen to you, the events and what not. The vibratory frequencies of your body and mind determine what you attract. Negative vibrations attract negative things, positive vibrations attract positive things. You need to start learning how to change and control the vibrations in your body and mind. You do this by meditating.  Samantha has been meditating since she was a teen-ager. You don't so much want to build your mind, as in knowledge only. This is folly and vanity. Rather you want to practice meditation so as to align your mind with the divine will. If you fail to understand the difference, you will feel the pain of our always happy King Solomon, who is a real blast at parties, as this quote from the NIV Hebrew Bible illustrates:

16 I said to myself, “Look, I have increased in wisdom more than anyone who has ruled over Jerusalem before me; I have experienced much of wisdom and knowledge.” 17 Then I applied myself to the understanding of wisdom, and also of madness and folly, but I learned that this, too, is a chasing after the wind. 18 For with much wisdom comes much sorrow;  the more knowledge, the more grief.

Would someone please get the good king his happy pills? Having enormous amounts of knowledge and brain-power is not the way. Tuning the mind to the GodStation is. Besides, as Socrates pointed out, and the band Kansas updated in a song: "If I claim to be a wise man, it surely means that I don't know." Furthermore, as Nietzsche tells us, gravity has its own plane in hell. Lighten up, but don't be phony about it. It does no good to put good icing on a rotten cake. You've got to get to the root of things, know what to know. Nothing more, nothing less. Change the vibration, change your reality.

Go To Part 2.5