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nella09archive · 1 year ago

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Marriage. 101

Chapter 101: Pay Back

Chichi said I have to go to the doctors today. “Why do I have to go?” She kept trying to push me out the door, but I wasn’t moving. These are the few times I actually used my full strength around her. At this moment she was trying to push an unmovable object.

“I swear Goku, you’re being worse than Goten, when it’s time for his checkups. At that, I have to have Gohan help. Now stop being so difficult, and let’s go!” I told her no. She stopped pushing, and hugged me from the front, and was giving me a kissy face. “If you be a good boy you get a reward.” Oh no, I’m not falling for that one again. She used that too many times on me. I just looked away. I then felt her sneaky hand go under my clothes, and rub my tail stub. Must. Not. React. She’s not going to win this time. I mean it when I said I’m not going. What made it worst was that she knew my body reacts to that, and was now kissing me through my pants. Damn my wife! I’m not going to lose!

To my great relief, and disappointment, she finally stop. And I finally looked at her. She looked so angry, that if this was anything else, I would have given in. She then walked away, and I thought I was free. I was wrong. When she came back, and in her hand was a slice of her famous apple pie. She can’t be serious, but she was. She started to take small bites from it. I could feel drool coming from the corner on my mouth. She really was going to do anything to make me go. What made it worst was that her top was open, and crumbs were falling on top of her boobs. Then an apple slice landed and then slide off her breast. She unclip her bra, grabbed her breast, and made it that she licked the trail that the apple slice left behind. She’s actually doing this. It was becoming hard to breathe, and my clothes were becoming tighter. I watch her finish the apple pie, and in her other hand was a glass of milk. As she drank that, she let some spill onto her breasts.

The whole time she was looking right at me. When she finished, she went to the kitchen. I followed her, watched her wet a cloth and clean herself. I was between just giving in and attacking my wife, and say I would do anything. But then I remembered that she wants me to go get a checkup. So, I angrily left the kitchen, and sat on the couch. I crossed my arms, and closed my eyes. She can’t do anything, if my eyes are closed. I was wrong again. She sat on my lap, and stroking my face. Temping me to lean into her touch; temping me to look. But I’m not going to do it. Then I felt my face being pressed into my favorite pillows. “But I don’t wanna.” The smell of apple pie and milk was still there.

“Please. For me.” Damn it! I lost. As we went to the doctors, I was so mad. I can’t believe this. My wife actually did all that to make me go to the stupid doctors. When we got there, I was seen right away. The moment I saw those damn evil objects, I tried to make a run for it. But Chichi was at the door, holding one of them in her hand. I was trapped. When I finally sat down, Chichi held my hand, as they took blood samples, and gave me whatever shots I had to take. After that whole heart virus warning, these became a twice a year routine. I was even mad at the fact Chichi was laughing at me, when it came time to give me my shorts. As we left, I told her I was going to get her back for this.

She was smiling when I said that. I didn’t like this. She’s actually looking forward to me getting her back. I really love that fact, that she loved it when I’m angrily doing her. She loves it when she gets ‘my pay back.’ Oh, not this time missy. I really mean it when I said I’m getting my pay back. For that alone, I’m going to make sure she knows that I mean it. As we rode nimbus ‘home’ I took the long way. I wanted to make sure that one of the boys got home before us.

I was so happy, and to her disappointment, Goten just got home. She giggled as she cooked, and when Gohan came home, he started laughing. I felt my face burning. My own wife and elder son was making fun of me. I told them to just laugh it up, and Chichi was poking my cheek, saying to toughing up. I was so mad I licked that damn finger. She looked surprised by that. Then Goten asked why everyone was laughing. I told them not to answer, and Gohan took his plate away from the table and said how I was afraid of needles. That’s it! You have to come straight home, from school, for a week, and you can’t go out this weekend! Sorry, but he asked. I couldn’t argue there. I still stand for what I said. “Oh. It’s ok daddy. Not everyone is as fearless as mom.” I was just shock, and the other two just laughed harder. “What’s so funny? It’s true. Mom isn’t afraid of anything or anybody.”

Oh, that’s what he thinks. I looked over at Chichi. Our little Goten truly thinks that. After dinner, I told the boys to go to their rooms, for the rest of the night. Goten asked if there wasn’t going to be family time tonight. I sadly told him that no family time. He looked so sad, and gave me a hug. He even said how it’s ok, and that even if I’m scared of needles, he still sees me as the braves dad ever. It made me slightly happy, and I gave him big hug, before ruffling his hair. Gohan gave me a look, and I told he too has to go. He asked if I still meant he had to come straight home. “If you don’t start heading to your room, I’ll make it two weeks.” He looked scared, and ran to his room. Now that’s taken care of, I watched my wife just stand there, speechless. “Aren’t you going to clean, like you always do.”

She look like she was having trouble finding words, but quickly shook her head, and started the dishes. I sat at the table and watched her; thinking how would I get her back. As she washed dishes, I could smell she was getting worked up. That’s it! She didn’t speak to me the whole time, and neither did I. When she started scrubbing the floors, did I decide to do something. Making sure I didn’t step on her clean floors, a grabbed one of her butt cheeks, which made her paused her actions. She looked over her shoulder at me, and I just told her to finish cleaning. She gave a little pout, before getting back to cleaning. I then rubbed my fingers against her wet core, through her clothes. I could tell it took her everything to not react. Good.

I then, in a single motion, took her pants off. It caught her by complete surprised, just how it did when I shoved my fingers into her. I add a small bit a ki to them, and watched how she bit her hand. I then removed my fingers, and enjoyed watching her pant before looking at me. I walked away, and told her to hurry up. When she came to the room, I made quick work of closing and locking the door. At that moment she became my hopeless, and fragile little wife. She loves it when tell how much I love that. She even asked if that meant I forgave her. “Nope.” She looked disappointed at that. She tried asking for me to forgive her. “Too late for that.”

I dropped her on the bed, and started removing my obi. She was looking at that spot, and licking her lips. Aw, does my wife really think she’s going to get rewarded for her behavior. I made sure my pants didn’t fall, as I dropped my obi on the floor. She looked slightly disappointed; good. I told her to turn around, and it took her a moment to do so. I finished getting undress, and she kept trying to look back. No, you don’t. Once naked, I hugged her. Pressing my face to hers, I roughly grabbed hold of her breasts, and heating them up with my ki. The moment she started to bite her lip, I moved away. She made a disappointed sound, and even almost fell backwards. After I made sure she was ok, I went to the bathroom.

She actually rush behind me. My wife really thinks she’s going to get rewarded. Not this time. I meant it when I said I would get pay back. She was shock when all I did was clean her, and no playing around. Even in the tub, I didn’t even try anything. To make it funny, was how she kept looking more and more disappointed. And whenever I moved, she looked hopeful. When I dried her, and carried her to bed, she looked so excited. But was quickly disappointed that all I wanted to do was sleep. She was even pouting, crossing her arms, and having her back to me. She even said I was being a meanie butt. That’s your fault. During the next morning she was very upset. So upset, that she stomped all through the house. She only gave me a little bit of food, and said I couldn’t hunt. She’s not the only one who didn’t play nice.

The boys did look worried, and I tried to reassure them that everything was fine. I even told Gohan he was allowed to hang out. Once I finished eating, I just laid on the couch. The boys said bye to us, and headed out. I’ll take a little nap, as Chichi did all her usually chores. Two free days wasn’t bad. She can’t give me an ear full for not farming today, because it’s all her fault. I could literally feel that she kept checking up on me, and that her anger was raising. This is, after all, her fault. Then when I felt she was stomping into the den; I couldn’t help inwardly giggle. Thankfully she didn’t notice I was peeking at her. Then I felt she was about to turn around, and I quickly made sure I wasn’t facing her. I could feel her eyes on me. I kept track of what she was doing, by sensing her ki, and she quickly found out I was really awake.

She dragged me to the floor, and was bagging on my chest. She was calling me mean, and a jerk for last night. “You’re acting like a spoil brat.” I couldn’t stop laughing at how angry she got at that comment.

“I AM A SPOIL BRAT! That’s all your fault!” She shaking me by the collar. “WHY DID YOU DO THAT? Was it really because I laughed at you over you being scared of needles?” She started to tear up. “I’m sorry. Now give me!” She grabbed my hands and placed them on her breasts, begging me to give her what she wants. “I want my husband to give me, give me. Stop laughing, you big jerk!” I just couldn’t stop laughing at her expression. She’s begging me to give in to her wants. Even when I sat up, she was trying to kiss me. When I didn’t let her, she started crying harder. I really did spoil her, and at that I couldn’t stop laughing.

I carried her, as I got up from the floor, and walked to our room. The whole time she was crying and banging my chest. When I set her down, is when she finally took note of where we were, and stopped crying. “Does wife still want husband to ‘give me, give me’?” She smiled and nodded excitedly. I always found that cute; how she went from one emotion to another in the blink of an eye. It actually made things exciting. “So, remove my obi, and I’ll give you everything you want.” She rushed to get my obi untied, and when my pants fell, the excitement in her eyes was breathtaking. I couldn’t help lick my lips at that. She then asked to go super. “You don’t have to ask. I rather you demand me.”

At that she get even more excited. “Go super, and give me, give me.” Well, someone forgot she’s a grown up, and behaving like a kid. And they say I do this. I couldn’t help giggle, as I went super, and then started taking off my shirt. She then jumped me. “Rip my clothes off!” Oh damn. Years I been wanting to hear her say that, and this is all it had to take. Damn! Now I know. But I couldn’t rip her clothes, she’ll get mad later. So, I flipped her, and quickly, and gently, took off her clothes. She was being very demanding today. Yanking me down into an aggressive kiss. Where did all of this come from? I was always the aggressive one. She had tried, but never like this.

It was making me fall in love with her all over again. I definitely got lucky marrying her. She won’t even let me pull away, to let her breathe. Mm. As our lips and teeth battle each other, as I shoved myself into her still ever so tight core. “AH!” I could feel her raking my back, as I thrust into her. When her nails came across my tail stub, I was on the verge of losing it. I ram harder; I wanted her to join me. The moment I felt she was close too, I pulled out, and flipped us, to where we could enjoy each other with our mouths. I practically attacked her pear of nerves, as I felt her mouth suck me in, and her teeth raking me. I was the very edge, but I wanted her to come first. When she did, I finally let myself lose control, and came in her wonderful mouth. I then flipped her, so we could kiss, as we tasted ourselves. That alone made us come again.

Our mouth attacked each other, before I rammed up into her. She was driving me mad. I attacked her neck and shoulders. I wanted to taste every inch I could. She was even raking every inch her nails could reach. It’s driving me insane. The best part, I could tell it was driving her mad as well. She was screaming both my names as I rammed harder and harder into her. And when she came, she surprised me, by biting down on my shoulder. At that, I roar my own climax, and she bit even harder as she came again.

As we tried to catch our breath, I couldn’t stop kissing her shoulder, and she was licking her bitemark. I really hope that one stays, too. Then without warning, she pushed me back. The look she gave me, made me hard again. And I was so thankful I was still in her. She rode me, till I flipped her, and slammed into her over and over. She kept screaming my names again, and I leveled up to super sayian 2. I rarely go this far, for fear of hurting her badly. But right now, all that went out the window, as I rammed into her with more force. She then begged that I do the other one; the one she only seen, maybe, twice.

I went super sayian 3, and she screamed. She felt even more tighter in this form, and I was practically losing it. I attacked her mouth, and that ended up becoming another battle. I grabbed her neglected breasts, and gave the attention they deserve. Before long, I had her screaming as she came, again and again. I then flipped to her knees, and took her from the back. She even begged that also play with her ass. With that said, I pulled out and shoved myself into her other hole. As I thrusted into her, one hand worked her pearl of nerves, and the other played with her breast. Her screaming both my names was just madding. I didn’t know which name I like better; especially how they sounded coming from my wife. She screamed as she came all over my fingers, and I roared as I climax in her ass. We were about to go again, till I felt that Goten was halfway home. “Fuck.” She looked at me surprised.

I told her that Goten was coming. “Fuck.” I quickly powered down, and we rushed to the bathroom. Even though the goal was to take a quick shower, it still ended with us going another round.

…

The moment I entered the house something felt off. It was just too quiet. I knew mom and dad were home, because I could sense them. Just when I was going to reach out to mom, they came downstairs. Weird. Mom and dad are wearing different clothing from this morning. They’re even super covered up. It’s probably nothing bad. They greeted me with a hug, before dad carried me, and mom went to go make dinner. I told them about my day, and they seemed very excited.

When Gohan came home, he gave our parents a weird look before shaking his head. As we ate, he told us about his day. After dinner, since I didn’t have homework, I played with dad. But as we played, I did notice that him and mom seem a little bruised around the lip. I wonder why. Probably they were doing kissy face. But why does kissing leave bruises? Could be an adult type of kissy face. Or just only mom and dad thing. Whatever it was I hope it didn’t hurt. I would be sad if either one of them were hurt.

When it came to bedtime, dad tucked me in. Before he left, I couldn’t help say something. “I hope it didn’t hurt.” He asked what I meant. “Your and mommy’s face is all marked up. Did you and mommy do some type of kissy face?” Dad face went really red, and he seem to stutter a lot. He said that they were fine, and not to worry. But when I asked about the kissy face again, his face became redder, and he said that he thinks mom was calling him. He then ran out my room, shouting mom’s name. Huff. I couldn’t help feel a little mad that he didn’t answer my question. Maybe Gohan knew.

Just before I got out of bed, so I could go ask him, mom came into my room. Maybe mom would answer me. Or she’ll be like dad, and run away. That thought actually upset me. Mom was now sitting on my bed, and I hugged her. Nothing wrong in asking. I asked her the same question, and even her face got red. I got ready to have her not answer the question. “Well, it’s something like that. Who told you about kissy face?” Oh, mom answered me. I told her that Trunks told me. Even though it’s just kissing. But Trunks says that there’s other types. “Does he know the other types?” I shook my head. Mom then let out a sign, and hugged me. Since my question was answered, I felt better, and being hugged by mom was a plus. Mom re-tucked me to bed, and I fell asleep thinking about how cool it would be to have cake for breakfast every day.

…

“Your and mommy’s face is all marked up. Did you and mommy do some type of kissy face?” I didn’t know what to say to this. My face even felt it was on fire. What am I supposed to say to this? I need help. I quickly said how Chichi was calling me, just an excuse to actually get her. The moment I got to her, she asked what was wrong.

“Goten has a question, and I don’t know how to answer it.” She asked what type of question. “Kissy face.” My face was on fire, and from the looks of it, her face was turning red. But she quickly made her way to Goten’s room. She spoke with him, and tucked him back to bed. We reached our door, when we saw that Gohan had yet entered his room. “Is it that bad?” He nodded, and said how he would like to be able to sleep tonight. Now my face was on fire all over again.

Once we closed the door behind us, I finally got out of my long-sleeve turtle neck. And as we laid in bed, I rested my head on her shoulder. She was lightly scratching my head, and asking if I was alright now. I nod my head. She kept scratching my head. “Looks like we can’t do that for a good while.” It’s your fault. “How is it my fault?” She stopped scratching my head, and moved her hand away. I pulled her hand back, and she scratched again.

“Because you’re too irresistible, and I love you.” She smiled at me, and kissed my forehead. “I mean it. I can’t keep my hands off you.” I started tickling her, and kept saying stop. I stopped, and placed my face between her boobs. I could hear her giggle, and I looked up at her. “What’s so funny?”

“You. You’re being silly.” I couldn’t help pout at that. How was I being silly. “For how you acted when Goten asked you that question. You were looking like a little kid, not knowing what to do. It was so cute.” She then poke my nose. “You’re so cute when you act like that. It’s actually one of the many charms that had me falling for you.” I smiled at that. “Now, are you really going to sleep like that? Or do I get to?” I just stick out my tongue at her, and started to fall asleep on her boobs. I could hear her humming, and she scratched my head. Ah, best feeling in the world.

…

“Again, Videl. Dad was just mad that I answered one of Goten’s questions. He just wanted to know why me and mom were laughing. Hey! Stopping laughing.”

“Sorry, can’t help it. Good boy Gohan got in trouble by his daddy.” She just continued laughing, as she banged her fist on the bed.

“You know what’s the worst part?” She asked what. “When I got home dad and mom lips were all bruised up, like bite marks, and dad was also very covered up. Dad rarely covers up.” We both laughed at that. “So, how’s your assignment coming along? Since I can’t physically be there to help.” She said fine, and I tried my best to explain some parts for her. Once that was done, we just talked a bit more, before falling asleep. I was looking forward to tomorrow. Tomorrow was Videl’s birthday. Who know that our birthday was in the same month?

I’m so glad I got this the moment I found out about her birthday. It wasn’t anything big, but I hope she likes it. I’m so glad Bulma needed help testing out her new security system. Even Vegeta was impressed. As I got to school, I was feeling both excited and nervous. From what Erasa, Mark, and Sharpner have said, I wonder if she would even like it. They said how every year almost everyone, and even the police force, celebrated her birthday. She would get so many expensive gifts. Would mine even matter?

As I entered homeroom, she was nowhere in sight. I quickly sense where she was, and she was on the roof. And she’s alone. I wonder she got up there? I didn’t see her when I get to school. I quickly made my way up there, and she was hiding in a corner. Was she… “Hey, Videl? Are you ok?” She looked up at me, and said she was ok. But I can tell she wasn’t. Those tears didn’t look like the happy kind. I sat next to her, and pulled her into a hug. Then she really started sobbing. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

She took something out her bookbag, and handed it to me. It was a letter. I asked if she was sure I could read it. She nodded her head, and she continued crying in my chest. It was a letter from her mom. From what I know, she hasn’t spoken to her mom since the divorce. In the letter it was wishing her a happy birthday, and that she would like to have dinner together. I wasn’t understanding what was the matter. I tried thinking about what could possibly wrong with having a dinner, with her mom. Videl always said how her mom left her dad, because of the frame after the cell games. How her mom didn’t even try to stay in her life. How her mom didn’t even try to fight for joined custody. Then it hit me. Her mom pretty much up and abandon her. I knew that feeling too well. We might have a different situation, and got different situations.

I held her closer, and kissed her forehead. “I don’t get why she wants to do this now. She never did before. I don’t even want to class right now.” That’s when we heard the first warning bell. Crap! If I miss class mom would get angry, but I don’t want to leave Videl like this. “Gohan.” I looked down at her. “You can go to class. I’ll just go home.” Oh no!

“But Videl. I can’t leave you looking like this on your birthday.”

“I know, but don’t want you get anymore in trouble with your parents.” I really don’t know what to do. “Don’t pout. Fine, I’ll go to class. But can ask your parents if I could come over today. I don’t want to go home.” I nod my head. As we head to class, I tried mentally reaching mom, and telling her what’s going on. I was completely thrown off when she said that Videl could go now if she like. I told that to Videl, and she had a small smile. “Does she mean it?” I double checked with mom, and I nodded. “I better go get my bookbag. I’ll see you later.” She kissed my cheek, before she ran downstairs. That’s when the second warning bell rang. CRAP! I rushed to class, and made it in time.

Class went by pretty ok, if you don’t count how many times someone came in, to tell Videl happy birthday. But they always get disappointed that she wasn’t in class. Even her dad was shocked she wasn’t in school, when he came during lunch time. When he spotted me, he pulled me to the side. He scream, asked, where was Videl. When I told him I didn’t know, I was continued being yelled at. I don’t know if I was even allowed to tell her dad where she was. But I did ask him about the whole mom thing, and he said sorry. Why was he apologizing? He said that her mom left because of him, and he blames himself for them not staying connected. I asked what he meant.

“She hated me so much that she wanted nothing to do with me. Even things that remainder her of me. True, Videl was always a daddy’s girl, but she loved her mother too. But she was never really home. The Cell Games was the last straw. Heck, that’s when I found out she was cheating on me.” I actually started to feel really bad for him now. He then gave me his number, and asked me to rely a message for him. Something about he has a special gift for her, when she gets home. Also, that he wanted me to be there when he gives Videl her gift. That part confused me.

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Ch100

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gorbongweedman · 2 years ago

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hi gamers i havent written fanfic in Literally Four/Five Years (i was a tiny little baby teenager back then!!!)

It's been two weeks.

Now, on a scale to the rest of Gordon's life- that wasn't really any time at all. Compared to the rest of the universe, two weeks is nothing. There should be nothing to worry about, just fourteen days, three hundred and thirty six hours, twenty thousand one hundred and sixty minutes, one million two hundred and n-

It has been two weeks.

Joshua has picked up on his erratic behaviour, Gordon is sure of it. He's been rather attached to his kid after playing a simple video game /what are you DOING-/, and well, he's not one to brag, but his son is smart and forgiving and alive and real and real and real. Joshua is a solid being and he is real; at least on the two days Gordon takes care of him for.

Two weeks ago and three days ago, Gordon played a game. The backstory of the game was that there was a report about a sprawling U.S. laboratory located in the depths of New Mexico. In this game, the base suffered a catastrophic event which led to the destruction and death of the entirely laboratory.

Two days before that, the Administrator received a near perfect in purity Xen Crystal; two weeks, four days and twelve hours, the crystal was designated GG-3883 and given a priority pass on experimentation. In the single day of testing the sample of Xen Crystal, numerous things were found - namely its highly chaotic reactions to Earthen technology. Two weeks and three days ago, this crystal was sent in for testing in the Anti-Mass Spectrometer, at the urging of Administrator Breen.

Then, three days of hell.

It was just a game.

Two weeks of silence.

Gordon finds he's a lot more irritable these days - snapping at thin air when he stubs his toe, or dies in a video game. It makes the gap in his chest just a little deeper every time. His right arm suffers phantom pains - he still has his right arm. He can see it, he can feel it, touch with it, its real its real its rea-

Gordon had to go to his real job, after playing a game. Declaring sick leave for /playing a game/ would be stupid. He knew he would be the talk of the town, though he can hear the jeering whispers from behind his back anyways. At least he knows those aren't real. He's been looking at options to work from home lately.

You would think that having an empty house in the middle of nowhere would allow any odd noise to immediately be clocked as not real. A laugh escapes Gordon, and the walls, the floor, the windows, the ceiling all respond in kind.

It has been two weeks since Gordon touched his computer; he doesn't think working from home would work that well anymore. He says to himself he will boot it up again, its just a computer after all. It can't -saw your arm off- hurt you in any physical capacity. He's not hurt. Gordon takes a glance at his right arm anyways; he pretends it was just a reflex.

For now, he can survive. His job is well paying, he has all the time in the world. A lot of that time goes by in his bed, hiding under the covers just like his son. He really is just a big baby about it, big ol' babyman. A beat passes.

Gordon throws himself out of his bed faster than he can process, whacking his head on his dresser. Black.

When he comes back to the waking world, he has a headache the size of Mt. Olympus and dried blood on his forehead. Clumsy little Gordon, smacking his head when he gets out of bed. It still takes half an hour before he gets enough energy back to choke down some painkillers.

The couch is a nice, safe bet; unfortunately it just cracks the hole that is loneliness and guilt and rage and fear and anxiety and sadness and- and Gordon wishes he has someone else in this place. Not Joshua, though. He would never let Joshua see him like this. This is a hiding in the bedroom activity. Gordon doesn't feel like going into his bedroom today.

He can hear the high pitched hissing of his computer from the couch, it sounds just like a snake, slithering and curling around his brain.

Its been two weeks since he touched his computer. Gordon hears the beginning of a jeer touch his ear. His vision goes red, and he finds himself before his computer before the rest of his brain can catch up and start blaring alarms. He stands there for what would realistically be only a minute. It feels...

much

much longer.

Gordon turns his computer on. Somewhere in the back of his brain something is screaming, filling his limbs with adrenaline, blocking his throat, burning his arm-

The sudden bright screen light in the dark room snaps him out of his small fugue. His arm still burns. The jeers are oddly silence, there is only a whisper of laughter and teasing passing by. It takes twenty eight, twenty nine, thirty, thirty one- thirty one seconds for his computer to finish starting up.

His background greets him, some old artwork he commissioned years ago. The icons are off their grids, positioned around his desktop like they're alive too, but Gordon knows he's the only one living in this house. Even if his brain doesn't believe it much.

His eyes skirt around the middle of the desktop, checking that everything is still there. Resumé, Jdownloader2, recycle bin... everything is just. The same. Nothing's changed.

He kind of wishes something did.

He tries to squash that idea before it spreads. He fails, again. Just like usual.

Gordon turns off his computer, and finds himself on the couch. He stays like that for a while.

Two weeks and two days after he played a game, Gordon finds himself at his computer. The middle icon is innocuous, just a funny little lambda symbol. He stares at it for what feels like hours. It probably was.

The walls feel like theyre closing in on him, boxing him up, the darkness in the room getting colder. Loneliness gnaws at his bones. He sits there, stewing, for a while.

He opens up the game. His skin crawls. This is a game.

Its hard to call it a game when four familiar faces pop up on the menu screen, each looking their various versions of slightly concerned.

The loneliness and anxiety bubbles away; it'll be come back, but for now, it's gone. That's all that really matters.

Two weeks and two days after he finished playing a game, he still tells himself 'it's only a game', though he finds himself believing it less and less every time. The hole in his chest and burn in his arm doesn't know how to feel about that.

#writin #unreality #i suppose?#blood #i kind of lost the thread i had last night (the latter half was written this morning)#either way i just wanted to post it. mayb one of u tisms will like it <3 #gordon feetman

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dearlymrme · 3 years ago

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In The Deep -Part Three (Silco/F!Reader)

merman!Silco/F!Reader

1,333 Words

SFW

Part 1, Part 2

What starts as a fascination quickly turns into an obsession for both parties. As it turns out they had more in common then they first thought.

They don't show up for a few days after that. Or if they did, you had not noticed. You had been burning the midnight oil with the samples you had been given. Running tests, taking notes, failures and success. Singed had asked where you had received the kelp, how much did you have to pay? You timidly told the truth while omitting detail.

"A friend at the beach." You responded and he didn't ask more than that when you told him that you received it for free and he didn't have to worry about the meager funds the two of you survived on.

The type of hyper focus you had though only lasted so long before you inevitably burned out and needed a break.

Night hours, tea ready, in your chair, a new book on your lap as you only half paid attention to the words, constantly glancing up to try and catch a glimpse of them.

You then realize just how ungrateful you had been. You should have immediately told them thank you instead of going straight to work. Hopefully they will understand your excitement and forgive you. Hopefully they will come back.

Because they were clearly more than just some big ass fish. Your mind had quickly flashed to Vastasya, one of the mer variety and your head spun as to why they would take up residence to the polluted river over the free and likely much cleaner ocean. Why would they not follow the waves and head upstream to some better waters? Why the murk and muck of the Undercity?

Maybe something was keeping them here, like many others in the Undercity be it lack of funds, lack of energy or connections. Or maybe they had something more than that. A life already made in the area with a home and family. Did they have a family? Were there more of them? Did they have a resemblance in species they were based on? You had only seen them and no other such mer-like Vastasya but that didn't mean there couldn't be more.

Vastasya were already rare in the Undercity and for the few you have ever seen they weren't exactly treated…well. You had seen one before, she had the long ears of a rabbit but the thin hooves and antlers of a deer. They were very nice antlers. The last time you had seen her, those ears of hers had nicks and her antlers had been missing, rough stubs implied they had been broken off rather than shed.

You pray for the mer that they never got caught in any of the fishers nets. Janna knew what the fishermen would do to them.

You yawned. It was late. You lost hope that perhaps they had taken offense and now wanted nothing to do with you and really you can't blame it. You did have a one track mind sometimes. You glance once more to the window and all but leap out of your seat when you see red speckles and an eye.

"You're here! Thank goodness. I am so sorry I didn't say thanks. I just got so wrapped up in my work that I-" you cut yourself off. Excuses were unacceptable. "Thank you so much for the samples. I've made so much progress in the past few days and I just-" You slap your hands to your knees and try to give a bow of your head, only to end up slamming it against the glass of the window.

You stagger back with a grimace, rubbing what will certainly be a bump tomorrow. You look up at them and despite not being able to see them clearly you had this feeling that you were being laughed at.

"Don't laugh at me." You plead.

Then you remember the day you had found the kelp and press your finger against the glass, your nail making a small tap.

"Speaking of laughter, the jig is up, pal. I know damn well I heard a laugh back at the beach. You're smart enough to understand me which means you gotta be a Vstasya…” You claim victoriously “...And again thank you for the kelp." You, much more carefully, give a small bow your head to it and by the bob of its eye it does the same. You can’t help the large grin that breaks out on your face.

You personally knew a Vastasya now, one that likely no one else knew about and the fact made you a little giddy. They had heard you from the glass and you can’t help but wonder just how keen their hearing is.

“I…can I convince you to come out?” You ask and watch as it floats, its glowing eye scrunched in what must have been consideration. "I want to thank you in some way. A simple trade maybe?” You wonder and huffed as you crossed your arms in thought. “What could you want? I mean, are you entirely water bound? Any curiosity about the surface? I'm sure there's plenty of litter that sinks into the river to choose from but if you have any requests I can see what I can do.” You offered and saw the eye scrunch And then their body sinks into the light, and stretches further and further. The bright bioluminescence of their body flickers to a dull but still true red and as it travels up its body its brownish tones turn to a pale white underbelly.

You see a navel then very fit abdominal muscles that turn to chest and there is a lack of nipples, their skin looks rather smooth, but you make the assumption that it’s likely as smooth as the sharks you read about. Then you can see his head and take a deep breath.

His face is angular and sharp, slightly pale, with filtering gills across the sides of his neck. His ears look and flutter more like fins. As he swims closer to the window you make out a dark contrast of skin along the right side of his face, a deep and almost black injury of some kind, spanning up his face and over his eye. It’s likely what causes his eye to glow like it does, black sclera adding to the effect of a burning cornea like hellfire. His other eye is a pale blue, pale like the ocean, and shining with his own sort of mirth. You wonder briefly if the river toxins are the cause for the rotting bit of his face and if open injury in any creature is affected by the water. It would explain why so many of the fish that wash to the shore are torn in some way.

He has uneven lips with a small scar pulled to the right. His short black hair sweeps through the water like a fine ink. Looped around his chest is a kind of bag braided from what looked like rope, likely the same rope that’s made from fishing nets. Held in place by a strap and the flapper support of his body and tail, is what looks like a belt and you can make out what is obviously a knife and a few pockets.

And he is huge. You thought he was big and snake like before from the bit you could see but it just trails up and up, more like a sea monster than a snake. He must have been at least 7 or 8 feet long before fish met more human appearance.

His hand, which you see to be webbed, presses against the glass and you can't help but press your own. Then he grins at you and you get to see the jagged teeth of his. Like shards of broken glass, uneven and sharp, crystal-like. It was stunning, your mouth opening in a small 'o.'

He then points up. And you blink. Up?

"Like…on the docks?" You ask him. And he nods.

You could have rolled an ankle with how fast you ran out the door.

#silco #silco league of legends #silco arcane #merman!silco #mermay #mermaid #reader #reader insert #silco x reader #writing #dee writes

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paystubprintout-blog · 5 years ago

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lovelikedestiny · 4 years ago

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3. Copley: And our kingdom is gone

White glowing skin, touched by stars,

kissed by silver moonlight.

When Joe gets up and leaves the room with one last stroke of Nicky's head, just as Copley has entered the living room, Copley asks himself when the immortals started to trust him.

Andy and Nile are exercising in his backyard and Copley, hoping they don't destroy his amateur herb patch or his dahlias, has tried very hard to give them privacy. By that he means that he is not standing on the porch like a stalker and watching the two women attack each other without mercy and with deadly skill, faster than he has ever seen.

Astonished, he stops and stares at the door Joe has disappeared through before he realizes that he is not alone in the living room. Nicky nods slightly to him, one corner of his mouth curved into something like a half smile and Copley only realizes that because he has spent the last few days closely observing the immortal warriors and analyzing their behavior.

Copley has always considered himself to be a passable, if not a good judge of people - this skill was very helpful in his job and served him well. But Nicky's micro-expressions are on a completely different level. He seems perfectly at rest within himself and nothing in his face indicates what is going on inside him. Admittedly, Copley finds this just as intimidating as Andy's sharp presence, Joe's death look and Nile's powerful charisma. Nicky must be really good at playing poker, Copley thinks, and inwardly shakes his head because it's like wondering what Joe likes to do in his free time besides the obvious drawing, or what kind of ice cream Andy prefers to eat. And Copley isn't sure that the relationship between him and the ancient warriors can be considered as that familiar.

He fully understands their vigilant, suspicious attitude towards him and is determined to help them with their current problem, because he is complicit in the events that have happened and hopes to gain their forgiveness. Guilt and shame are still present in his heart for being blinded by the prospect of helping people with illnesses like the one that plagued his wife, even though all the signs of Merrick's sadistic play were right under his nose.

All the more, the fact that Joe left him alone with Nicky in a room, presumably to use the bathroom, feels like a minor victory, and Copley tries not to seem too baffled by it.

The minimal change in the bright mountain lakes that make up Nicky's eyes shows that he's not doing as good a job as he has hoped. In Nicky's eyes and the features around his mouth, the most emotions can be read, Copley noted, even if it will take him a lot of practice to see as much in Nicky's face as Joe. He will probably never reach this level, because he certainly does not have 900 years for a character study.

Nicky's minimal facial movements also make it harder for Copley to tell if he's in pain or to recognize the warning signs that precede any vomiting of blood - which is now occurring with terrible regularity.

Since he has found a tough nut to crack in Nicky, Copley has started to pay attention to Joe after Nicky's first blood break, in order to learn more about Nicky's behavior. With this tactic, Copley adds daily to his mental list of Nicky's signs of certain sensations, and to his chagrin, the signs of physical pain seem to be increasing in frequency.

Copley, one of those people who whine hard when they stub their little toe, admires the stoicism with which Nicky endures his rapidly deteriorating condition. Only his slow, sluggish movements and a barely noticeable frown are frequent indications of Nicky's discomfort, as well as a slight lowering of the corners of the mouth and the twitching of his jaw pointed out for Copley by Nile.

And of course the tremors from the chills going through Nicky's body at that moment. In addition to the thick hoodies, they pulled out all the stops with various blankets, socks, hot-water bottles and tea and Joe gives Nicky his body heat anyway, just like Andy and even Nile.

This deep, family bond between Andy, Joe and Nicky is met with great fascination by Copley and although Nile has only been an immortal for a few weeks, even Copley can see how easily the young woman has integrated into the team like a matching piece of a puzzle. It also shows him how much the emptiness of his house oppressed him after the death of his wife and that he finds himself wishing to be a part of this unusual family of extraordinary individuals.

With a quiet clearing of his throat, Copley de-freezes himself from where he has been standing for an alarmingly long number of seconds and turns the heat up. With the onset of autumn it is not a problem to heat so strongly because the nights are gradually getting colder. And Copley finds that he's already used to the high temperatures in the constantly heated living room. Sweating a little to keep Nicky from freezing as little as possible is probably the least Copley can do.

"Thank you, Mr. Copley," Nicky says, returning his attention to the open book in his lap, which Copley cannot identify as one of his. While he grimaces inwardly - whether that's because Nicky is the only one who continues to call him Mr. Copley, or because of how rough and strained his voice sounds, Copley can't tell - he sits down in the place where he is working. At least when he's not in his study. Actually, the professional atmosphere of his office always helps him to be more productive, but since Andy and her team moved in with him, Copley has gotten used to finding the presence of the others very pleasant.

When Joe returns, Copley is back to work retracing Meta Kozak's footsteps. She is currently moving from the western US towards New Mexico, but Copley doesn't know what her destination is or where she is keeping any evidence from Merrick's lab and that makes him angry at himself. He tracked Andromache the Scythian and her group of immortal warriors down so he shouldn't have any problems pinning Kozak down too. On the other hand, he had time to track down the immortals, and in this case it seems to be running like sand through his fingers.

Neither of the others is pushing him to hurry up or do better work, which Copley appreciates, but they all see Nicky's crumbling form every day.

Five minutes pass with no sound coming from the sofa, except for the occasional rustle of paper when Nicky turns a page or the sound of Joe's pen in his sketchbook, and Copley longs for a fifth cup of coffee.

"Copley?"

"Yes?" Even if Copley suspects what Joe wants from him, he takes his eyes off the irritatingly bright screen of his laptop to look at him.

Joe's dark, serious eyes are in such a strong contrast to the soft, warm expression of affection that they always take on when they come to rest on Nicky. "Is there-" Joe pauses to reconsider his choice of words, but Copley realizes in it the unrest that comes with Copley's own uneasiness. "- any news?"

To be honest, Copley prefers an angry, menacing Joe to the version whose tiny spark of hope Copley has to stifle over and over again, and he hates it. Still, he keeps his calm and shakes his head. "No, I'm sorry. I was able to locate her on the recordings of a hotel in Phoenix, Arizona, where she stayed for three nights. But I can't tell where she's going next. My guess is New Mexico, but she has changed direction several times in the past two days.” He sighs and shakes his head again. "She is very careful, which means that she expects you to search for her."

The pale, blurred face and cold, lifeless-looking eyes on his laptop cause a disgusted, hate-like feeling in his stomach. Copley wonders how he could ever expect from such an immoral doctor who sliced people up for the Nobel Prize and took samples without letting herself be disturbed by their screams of pain to do something good for humanity.

Joe nods slowly and turns to his drawing with furrowed eyebrows, chewing on his lower lip and Copley looks at Nicky, only to notice that Nicky's focus has long been on his love. Copley thinks he sees something like concern in Nicky's eyes and then he reaches out his hand and squeezes Joe's, saying something in a lowered tone in that strange language and Joe snorts and grins slightly.

Copley has seen moments like this quite often lately. It's no secret that Nicky's condition weighs as heavily on Joe as a block of cement, and while Joe is definitely a smiler, there's nothing like it to be seen. Dry comments from Andy or deliberately silly jokes from Nile make him smile and, at best, even laugh a little. But only Nicky manages to ignite the humorous spark in his eyes and he does that as often as possible.

In the same language, Joe replies something, causing a low snort from Nicky about that Joe looks so happy, as if he had won the jackpot, before he seeks Copley's eye contact again. "Thank you, Copley."

Copley high fives himself in his head for the further progress he's made with the immortals and smiles. "Of course, I will keep you informed about further results."

"We really appreciate that," Nicky says, putting his book aside. He coughs heavily and Joe is immediately on alert, ready to jump up and grab the bucket they've positioned next to the sofa since the accumulating blood-vomiting, but Nicky pulls himself together. "Have you eaten anything today, Mr. Copley?" He asks hoarsely.

"I beg your pardon?" Copley blinks.

Up to this point he hasn't even given a thought to food and is amazed to realize that he has actually not eaten anything since last night because he was too busy following Kozak's trail. As if on command, his stomach growls softly and Copley is stunned that Nicky pays remarkable attention to who is eating what and when.

"Oh," Copley says, staring at his keyboard and then at Nicky, who is patiently waiting. "I'm afraid not, no."

He didn't even finish his sentence when Nicky gets up from the sofa - so slowly that it's painful to watch - and heads for the kitchen. "Do you like French omelettes?"

"Nicky-" Joe is hot on Nicky's heels, which is no wonder given Nicky's slow pace, every step taken so carefully, as if every move would hurt him. Because Nicky is supposed to take it easy and rest, Andy and Nile have thrown him out of the kitchen a few times because standing at the stove had exhausted him. And even if Copley doesn't know all the habits of the team by a long way, he can see how much Nicky loves to look after his family and that cooking and baking gives him great joy. This makes it all the more difficult for him not even be able to do that.

And the way Joe looks, he is more than aware of it. But instead of putting Nicky back on the sofa and advising him not to use the kitchen to make Copley a French omelette because it could harm his condition, Joe just says gently, "May I help you?"

It is not a statement that has been disguised in a question to avoid contradiction. It's a real question that Joe means wholeheartedly and leaves Nicky to decide whether he wants to work alone in the kitchen or to be helped. Joe didn't ask if he could cook, but asked Nicky's permission to help him cook and leave the main work to Nicky. And that Joe pays such careful attention to Nicky's feelings and wants to do something about it that he feels useless, moves Copley more than he would have expected.

Copley only catches a glimpse of the smile Nicky only saves for Joe. "Of course, hayati." Copley can't miss the underlying gratitude.

Continue reading on AO3 ;)

#the old guard #fanfiction #tears on marble face #chapter three #Copley #Nicky #Joe #Andy #Nile

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paystubspaystub · 2 years ago

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eformscreators · 6 months ago

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The Importance of Keeping Your Paystubs: Financial and Legal Benefits

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guide101ph · 3 years ago

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HOW TO INVEST IN PAG-IBIG MP2: COMPLETE GUIDE

Pag-IBIG MP2 or the Modified Pag-IBIG II is an optional financial savings scheme for participants who intend to save even more and also earn greater returns in addition to their routine Pag-IBIG cost savings.

So if your goal is to boost your funds or cost savings, one good option is to spend it to Pag-IBIG MP2 with an outstanding 7% returns rate for your cash.

WHAT IS PAG-IBIG MP2 SAVINGS PROGRAM?

The Pag-IBIG MP2 Savings Program is a volunteer cost savings policy for Pag-IBIG Fund participants that select to save more and gain high dividends, together with their Pag-IBIG Fund Normal Cost Savings.

WHO CAN SAVE UNDER PAG-IBIG MP2?

You can open up a Pag-IBIG MP2 account if you come from any of the following groups:

All active Pag-IBIG members, regardless of how much your month-to-month revenue is.

Former pensioners, despite age, that have at the very least pay 24 month-to-month contributions prior to retired life.

If you're not a Pag-IBIG member yet, you have to sign up initial and pay your month-to-month payments to be considered a main member.

REASONS WHY YOU SHOULD OPEN A PAG-IBIG MP2

Pag-IBIG MP2 enrollment is not required for Pag-IBIG participants, yet doing so will certainly be useful for you over time.

Here are 5 good reason to start saving under the Pag-IBIG MP2:

1. Above-market dividend rates.

One of the most fascinating factor to save under MP2 is its above-market yearly dividend prices.

In the past few years, MP2 reward rates have expanded securely, averaging at 6.96% from 2015 to 2017.

In 2018, the Pag-IBIG Fund declared the MP2 returns rate at 7.41%. While the declared MP2 returns rate in 2019 is 7.23%.

In other words, the MP2 is much more cost-effective compare to the regular Pag-IBIG cost savings program. MP2 dividend rates also exceed the average rates of interest of investment products from business financial institutions in the Philippines.

With the HDMF's unparalleled monetary efficiency year after year, it's anticipated to proceed the MP2 program's amazing reward rates.

HOW PAG-IBIG MP2 IS COMPUTED?

Returns earnings are tax-free, which suggests you'll get the sum total without having to pay the 20% last holding back tax obligation.

To calculate your MP2 dividend, multiply the reward price for the appropriate year by your ordinary month-to-month equilibrium.

Right here's the formula for MP2 returns calculation:

Dividend = Dividend rate x Average monthly balance

Calculating the MP2 dividend is not as simple as it looks, though.

Prior to proceeding with the computation, it is very important to comprehend initially what the returns rate and the average monthly balance mean.

The dividend rate is the interest rate based upon the Pag-IBIG Fund's yearly earnings. The Fund usually introduces the dividend rate for a particular year in the first or second quarter of the following year via a press release on the Pag-IBIG site.

For example, the dividend rate for 2018 is 7.41%, which the Pag-IBIG Fund mentioned in April 2019.

Meanwhile, the ordinary regular monthly equilibrium describes the average of the MP2 financial savings you've gained by the year-end. To find out your average regular monthly equilibrium, you need to recognize your total collective savings for the year first and afterwards split it by 12 (months).

For less complicated computation, paper your month-to-month MP2 savings through Excel file or Google Spread sheet and afterwards compute the average.

For instance, you're conserving Php 500 per month from January to December 2020. Outlined on a spread sheet, your collective cost savings look like this:

PERIOD CUMULATIVE FINANCIAL SAVINGS (PHP). January 2020 500 February 2020 1,000 March 2020 1,500 April 2020 2,000 May 2020 2,500 June 2020 3,000 July 2020 3,500 August 2020 4,000 September 2020 4,500 October 2020 5,000 November 2020 5,500 December 2020 6,000 Typical Monthly Balance 3,250

The amount of the cumulative financial savings for 2020 is Php 39,000. Separate that by 12, and you'll obtain a quotient of Php 3,250. That's your average monthly equilibrium.

An easier way to calculate the typical month-to-month balance is to use the AVERAGE feature in Excel or Google Spreadsheet, which generates the exact same quantity: Php 3,250.

Now, you can already determine the dividend for the year 2020 based upon a dividend rate of 7.5% (the price the Pag-IBIG Fund always utilizes in its sample reward calculations).

0.075 (dividend rate) x Php 3,250 (your average monthly rate) = Php 243.75 (total dividend for 2020).

To compute your returns for the next four years, just duplicate all the steps above.

If you use the intensified cost savings option, do not neglect to include the returns quantity from the previous year to the advancing cost savings in January of the list below year.

But if you avail of the yearly returns payment choice, do not include the dividend quantity from the previous year to the present year since it's paid out to you annually.

For your quick recommendation, the table listed below from the Pag-IBIG Fund shows the annual reward payout over a five-year duration if you pay Php 500 month-to-month to your MP2 account (based upon a 7.5% reward price).

WHY IS THAT THE DIVIDEND RATE OF PAG-IBIG MP2 HUGE?

MP2 returns prices have actually gotten on an ascending fad. The rates have never ever gone down listed below 7% considering that 2016 approximately today.

While these figures appear as well excellent to be real, there's no factor to worry or doubt as to why the Pag-IBIG MP2 reward rates are "too expensive.".

The Pag-IBIG Fund's active economic efficiency for many years has actually accelerated the MP2 prices. The federal government agency associates its solid monetary standing to its functional performances as well as solid real estate finance payment collections.

Because the Pag-IBIG Fund invests 70% of its funds in its housing financing program, people buying MP2 make from the interest payments of real estate car loan consumers.

Likewise, MP2 dividends originate from at least 70% of the Pag-IBIG Fund's annual take-home pay, which has seen stable development for the past 6 years. In 2019, the Fund recorded a take-home pay of Php 34.37 billion-- it is the highest ever before.

An amazing yearly monetary performance transforms to greater returns profits for MP2 account owners.

HOW TO ENROLL IN THE PAG-IBIG MP2 PROGRAM?

There are 2 methods on just how to open an MP2 savings account, its either using directly at any Pag-IBIG office or utilizing the on-line MP2 Enrollment System.

PAG-IBIG MP2 WALK-IN ENROLLMENT.

STEP 1: Submit a fully-accomplished Changed Pag-IBIG II Enrollment Kind at the nearby Pag-IBIG branch.

STEP 2: After encoding your information, the officer will release an account number for every of your MP2 accounts. You'll use this account number to pay your savings.

STEP 3: If you intend to pay your very first month-to-month MP2 cost savings right away, educate the Pag-IBIG police officer. You'll be offered a stub for your line up number for the repayment.

STEP 4: When your number is called, proceed to the cashier as well as pay the amount you showed on your MP2 registration type. Get your official invoice.

PAG-IBIG MP2 ONLINE REGISTRATION.

Online registration for MP2 is quicker than enrolling by hand, as you won't have to fill in the kind at the Pag-IBIG office. Nevertheless, you still require to head to the local branch literally to finish your MP2 registration.

Here's how to register in the Pag-IBIG MP2 program online:

STEP 1: Go to the Modified Pag-IBIG 2 Enrollment System.

STEP 2: Type your Pag-IBIG MID number, surname, first name, as well as birthdate in MM/DD/YYYY style. Then enter the code as it shows up on your display. Click the Submit switch.

STEP 3: Fill in the on-line form. The fields for Pag-IBIG MID no., Call, Date of Birth, Existing Residence Address, as well as Email Address are already pre-filled, so no demand to load them out (On the screenshot below, the individual information are concealed for privacy objectives). Don't fail to remember to enter your Monthly Earnings and also Preferred Monthly Payment-- these are needed areas.

STEP 4: Review the terms and conditions listed below the on-line registration type. After that get in the code you see. Ultimately, click the Submit My Application switch.

STEP 5: A web page confirming your effective Pag-IBIG MP2 enrollment will appear. Keep in mind and also do not neglect your MP2 account number found on the upper right edge. The page additionally contains your achieved registration form (Once more, individual details are concealed on the screenshot below).

STEP 6: Review the terms and conditions. Write your name and sign at the end of the page. Make a note of the day too. Click the link at the bottom part of the page to publish your MP2 registration type. You may save it initially as a PDF apply for printing later. If you're an employee, publish an extra copy as well as submit it to your HR personnel or employer, so you can remit your MP2 cost savings through salary reduction.

STEP 7: Optional: If you intend to open up an additional MP2 account, repeat actions 1 to 6.

STEP 8: See the local Pag-IBIG office as well as send the printed copy of your MP2 registration form/s.

STEP 9: If you want to pay your very first monthly MP2 savings today, notify the Pag-IBIG police officer. You'll be offered a line number for the repayment of your application.

STEP 10: When your number is called, continue to the cashier and also pay the amount you showed on your MP2 enrollment kind. Get your official receipt.

HOW MAXIMIZE YOUR PAG-IBIG MP2 INVESTMENT TO ACHIEVE IMPORTANT LIFE GOALS?

Here are the different means to broaden your Pag-IBIG MP2 investment based on your objectives.

1. For long-term investment (10+ years).

If you remain in your 20s or 30s, you have greater than ten years to spend your cash for any type of long-term financial goal, like developing your retirement fund or buying your dream home.

For this, your goal must be to expand your money gradually. Right here's how to attain it via Pag-IBIG MP2 cost savings:.

Develop Pag-IBIG MP2 savings account with the compounded dividend choice.

Give an one-time MP2 payment (ideally not less than Php 30,000).

Withdraw your incomes at the end of the five-year maturation duration.

Re-establish your earnings by opening a brand-new MP2 account.

Repeat the process for one more 5 years and so on.

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fuck-customers · 5 years ago

Text

This both a fuck me and fuck manager.

To start with, I work in a place that acts as a middle man between customers and vendors of goods, dealing with samples of said goods; it's one part of this huge corporation, where this job is sorta in between retail and corporate. This corporation is known to mess with people's paychecks (I was made aware of this because someone I knew worked on the retail end).

So I'm on contract with this job and I was hired for 3 hours a day, 5 days a week, helping out with manual labor. Not bad, in all honesty; I like the work. However, I have now been bumped up to full time because we are down one person, who left for mat leave right at the time my building is changing locations. I wasn't even thinking of all the extra money I would be making working an extra 5 hours a day. I was more focused on getting everything packed up for moving day (3 years worth of crap that we couldn't throw out).

Our pay schedule fell on moving day, so I didn't get a chance to see what was deposited until the next day (Saturday, 07/27). The amount I got is the same amount as if I was still working 3 hour days. I'm shorted by almost $500. The screwy thing is, and I should have known better, is that my boss keeps track of my hours on her computer. She can change the schedule instantly to match the hours I changed. Pretty handy, except for the part where I haven't gotten a single paystub since I started working there back in April. I really should have asked for one right in the beginning, but I never really thought much of it. I know now I should have, because I should be getting a pay stub every payday.

So fuck me for not asking about paystubs right off the bat, fuck my manager for fucking my hours and shorting me money. I now have to have a talk with her, asking where my money is. (I did start an email with her so I at least have a paper trail started. If she doesn't do anything, I do have the labor boards number written down, so they can investigate on my behalf)

tl;dr: My boss has messed up my hours and has shorted me almost $500 on my paycheck, paying me as if I worked my old schedule instead of my new one.

#submissions #fuck co-workers #fuck managers #submission

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paystubgeneratorusa · 5 years ago

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thepoetoaster · 5 years ago

Text

POSSESSED

Baltimore, Maryland October 2019

Chapter 1.

The rain was sobbing uncontrollably and inside I felt the same. Everything was grey and bleak except for the colorful neon screensaver of my phone that lit up every time Matt texted me. I never meant to become reduced to this state of sadness, loneliness and despair.

But every time I stepped outside the revolving door of the hotel I was living in, whatever energy reserves and hope I had mustered up in my solitude rapidly depleted and I felt like throwing myself into the harbor. Not that I ever would, but looking around at the society which I became increasingly more isolated from, that was how I felt.

My name is Michaela. I’m 28 and work as an investment advisor for a prestigious bank over the internet. That’s my daytime personality, anyways. The way I pay the bills. Deep inside I know I am an artist, a spiritualist, but that part of me only comes out in very rare circles.

It seems as if my life is always separated by a sense of polarizing contrast, eternally opposing forces. There is the daytime version of myself I show to the world; successful, smart, kind. There is a hidden part that is much more sinister. I feel a sense of cynical animosity towards the human race and society regularly. I express this through the art I never show anyone except my friends on the Other Side.

Yes, I am a spiritual medium, although not professionally. It started in my childhood when I realized I was not like the other children. While they played kickball and dolls, I wandered into the woods alone, talking to my imaginary friends who I later realized were so much more than imaginary. How did I know this?

Well, sometimes they told me things that they knew about this life - things that I nor any mortal would have anyway of knowing if not for some supernatural power intervening. And their words always turned out to be true, so I learned to trust the voices in my head that were so much more than just voices.

And what great friends they were! I found the spirits kinder, wiser, and more understanding than the mortals who were caught up in trivial things like gossiping and sports. Most of them, anyways. There were the rare beings I became close with that always kept my head above the Earth somehow. Always the eccentrics, the strange ones. They were the only ones I found interesting, who improved upon the sweet stillness of my solitude.

One such person was my friend and lover, Matt. Although lately, I must say the relationship has been leaning more towards friendship — the romantic parts of our life are rather complicated. For starters, he’s been married to another woman for years, although their relationship is turbulent and he’s very quick to come to me for comfort when things don’t go his way.

But oh, how I adore him! He is dark, mysterious, intelligent, not to mention handsome. He is one of the few people on this Earth that I connect with and we have an explosive chemistry. But I always get the sense that there’s something missing between us, that there’s something that’s just not right. I can’t stand the fact that he always chooses his wife over me, like I’m some kind of afterthought and not worth the same love and attention as she is. But I tolerate it, because I have I no one else — and look forward to his text correspondences vehemently, as he is a light in my dark, oftentimes seemingly hopeless world.

In the present, I’m sitting in the armchair in my hotel room that overlooks the city streets, drinking hot ginger and lemon tea while reading “Favorite Poems of Emily Dickinson”. I’m waiting for Matt to text back, but I wouldn’t be surprised if I don’t hear from him until 2 in the morning, at which point I will be fast asleep.

I prefer hotel living for many reasons. Mainly, I can never seem to make myself settle down in any one place. My work as an investment banker is done mainly over the internet except for the rare face-to-face meetings with customers and company business trips. So when I’m not working, you could say I’m something of a vagabond, always traveling from city to city, making my home wherever the wind takes me.

I love the cleanliness and orderliness of hotel living; the permanently fresh sheets, the modern decorations, the shampoo and conditioner samples. It reminds me of a comforting time in my rather difficult childhood, in which a house fire forced my family into staying at a Holiday Inn for several weeks. I relished the experience, sharing a room with my twin brother, and have very fond memories of continental breakfasts and jumping from bed to bed, pretending the floor is hot lava.

In my current room there was a portrait of a lovely, hefty singer perched above the desk where I do my work. I suddenly wished I had her life and started to feel very lonely all of a sudden, looking out my window at all the people walking down below, in groups of friends or with a romantic partner. Although I despised the society, at times I felt almost envious of the way others seemed to fit in and find their place so easily. I was forever a misfit, alone in a universe of my own making with no one there to listen to my innermost thoughts.

Except for the spirits, that is.

I grew weary of the feeling and reached for my Ouija board to see who was available to talk. Normally it was one of my main 3 friends - Claire, Stephen or Sharon. We did have other visitors come through at times, however. Today was one of those times.

I took the board out of the box, put it on my lap, and when I placed my fingers on the planchette it started moving almost immediately to spell out the words “HELLO LOVE”.

“Well, hello love to you to,” I said, “and who may I ask am I speaking with?”

“DAMIAN,” it said.

“Hi Damian! I’m Michaela,��

“I KNOW,” he said, “SILENT MODE”

“What?” I replied, and at that moment I received a text from Matt.

“NEXT,” said Damian, “HE’S A FUCKBOY,”

“Um, I’m sorry? Matt and I are very close friends,” I said, although he did have a point.

“NEXT,” he repeated, then “PICK ME INSTEAD.”

And against my will I felt a warm sensation rising up from my stomach to my chest to my cheeks.

That very same moment, there was a loud knock on the door. “Housekeeping!”

“Oh, okay! One moment,” I responded, suddenly needing some air. I put the board back in the box and slid it under the mattress before quickly slipping on my my shoes and raincoat for a stroll through the gloomy Baltimore streets.

“What r u doing?” The text from Matt read.

“Going for a walk - hbu?” I responded

“Let’s meet at Gangster Vegan,” he said, and I replied with an “OK - see you in 10” and began the journey by foot through the harbor and into historic Federal Hill.

The whole time I was walking, I couldn’t shake the feeling of Damian’s presence. In fact, I could have sworn I felt fingers lovingly grazing the back of my neck; a light whisper in my ear.

When I got to to the all natural vegan eatery, Matt was unsurprisingly yelling at the cashier.

“What do you mean you don’t carry Spirulina!? What kind of establishment is this?!” The poor cashier gave me a look of utter desperation and I took that as my cue to jump in.

“Matt! Oh, darling, it’s so good to see you!” He turned around and the anger on his faced appeared to soften, but only a fraction.

“Oh, Michaela, what a relief to see someone with half a brain,” he snapped, turning around to give the cashier a dirty look, who looked thoroughly annoyed.

“Okay, let’s get out of here…,” I replied and we started walking through the city streets that were lit up by neon lights.

Before I could even begin to strike up a conversation, Matt suddenly stopped walking on the sidewalk to read a text message from his wife, Cindy. “GOD DAMN IT!” He shrieked.

“What is it?”

“THAT BITCH!” He dramatically kicked a fire hydrant, stubbing his toe in the process.

What is wrong with him? I heard a voice clearly whisper in my head.

“HOW DARE SHE!”

“Are you okay, Matt?”

“NO, I AM NOT OKAY!” By this point everyone else on the street had their heads craned to witness the spectacle that was his meltdown.

“Deep breaths, Matt…”

“It’s Cindy,” we started walking again by the harbor, “we were supposed to meet at her apartment later tonight,”

I thought he was coming home with you? The voice whispered.

“I thought you were coming back to the hotel with me?” I said

“Michaela,” he said and turned to me, “you know I love you as a dear friend, but Cindy is my wife. And we were supposed to meet tonight, and she canceled on me because she HAS PLANS WITH HER FRIENDS.” He looked exasperated. I just stared and looked at him silently, not knowing how to reply.

“Well… maybe she really does have plans with her friends?”

“Oh no, Mickey. No. She’s fucking some other guy. I just know it.”

The hypocrisy is unbelievable! The voice said.

“Umm… well, maybe you should just let it go! We can have a great night back at my place…”

“I don’t think so. I’m gonna let this whore have a piece of my mind.”

At that moment, his phone mysteriously flew out of his hands and into the harbor.

And I heard that voice laughing in my head.

By that time, we were almost back at the hotel. Matt was just staring there in shock, and I felt similarly. Then he fell to his knees and started sobbing uncontrollably.

“JUST GO, MICKEY…”

I silently obliged and walked back to my room, suddenly drained by Matt and his shenanigans. As my head hit the pillow, I fell asleep almost immediately. In that brief state between wakefulness and dreams I swore I felt Damian’s arms around me.

Chapter 2.

I woke up early, around 6:30AM, to the sound of my phone ringing - it was an unknown caller.

“Hello?” I answered groggily.

“Hello, Baltimore Police. Is this Michaela Young?”

“Yes,” I replied, a wave of worry washing over me, “what is it?”

“It’s about Matthew Gregory. He was found dead in the harbor last night.”

A wave of shock and disbelief washed over me and I heard that voice in my head, laughing maniacally.

“Oh my god,” I said, speechless.

“We’re going to need you to come down to the station immediately,”

After I got back from the station, I collapsed on my bed, emotionally exhausted. I decided to turn to my ouija board for comfort from my friends from the spirit world.

HELLO, MY LOVE, the board spelled out almost instantly.

“Is this Claire?” I asked.

DAMIAN, it spelled. I’VE BEEN WATCHING YOU.

“I’m very upset, Damian. My friend and lover Matt was found dead in the river this morning. They ruled it as a suicide but I’m not so sure. He was erratic but I don’t think he was suicidal.”

I’M SURE HIS WIFE IS UPSET, he said sarcastically.

By this point tears were streaming down my face. “That doesn’t help!” MATT DIDN’T KNOW YOU, he said, NOT LIKE I DO.

“What do you know about me?” A small gleam of hope flickered in my heart like a lighter. Was it possible that there was an entity in this universe that was capable of understanding me?

This is easier, said the voice I thought I had been imagining before.

I know much about you, Michaela…

“Like what?” I asked.

You’re a financial advisor by day, but it’s slowly eating away at your soul. You’re an artist - deep down, you know it, I know it. And. You’re also a witch.

“Go on,” I said, my heart beating quicker at this point.

You didn’t have things easy growing up - dysfunctional family dynamics, absent father, and a string of abusive relationships as you got older.

My heart was pounding rapidly at this point.

“How do you know all this about me, Damian?”

I know a lot about you, Michaela. That’s all you need to know. I am capable of loving you in ways no mortal could ever fathom. All you need do is surrender to me.

“I’m not in a place to surrender to anyone right now, Damian. My lover just threw himself into the harbor.”

Understandable, he said. Well you just rest up, my love, and I’m sure things will work out for the best.

“Okay,” I said, and fell asleep with the energy of Damian’s love surrounding me.

Chapter 3.

At work the next day I was unable to focus on anything. I was midway through my lunch break when I heard Damian say, what do you say we leave this place tomorrow, my love?

“For where?” I asked.

Morocco, he said. I want to show you the way the sand dunes look in the desert when the sun rises. I want to show you the architecture, the culture, the food.

I suddenly felt excited at the idea - running away with this entity - leaving my past behind. It felt like a scene out of a fairy tale - only real.

Next thing I knew, Damian was singing “Come Fly with Me,” by Frank Sinatra in my head and I burst out laughing, overflowing with joy and feeling lucky that I had finally found someone who understood me, who eased the loneliness within me, who reminded me of what it was to laugh.

You’re very beautiful, you know, he said in a drawling, seductive voice.

“Save it for Morocco,” I said playfully, my heart feeling like a hot air balloon.

Before I knew it, we were on a plane together, falling for each other quicker by the minute. Well, I was on a plane, you have to remember. Damian was a nonphysical entity, which made our relationship - strange, you could say, to put things mildly.

But I had never been one for normalcy to begin with. In fact, it was my personal philosophy to shun anything that would be considered mildly normal by society’s standards.

And so our love took off the same way as the airplane.

When we arrived in Morocco, we spent long evenings under the desert sky, numbering the stars in the milky way, soaking up the serenity of the sand dunes. During the days we toured the city of Marrakesh, basking in the colors, the architecture, the geometric patterns on the walls. The culture was fascinating to me but more fascinating was Damian.

He told me of his life in the underworld and I was amazed at how much we had in common with one another. I grew to believe that there was some kind of mystical force pulling us together, and we could consciously resist it all we wanted, but no matter what that eternal longing would pull us back into each other’s reality, one way or another.

It was the romance of a lifetime.

———-

That’s the way things always start out, don’t they? For all of the eternal longing that existed between us, there was no denying that we didn’t always agree on everything. Just normal couple things, right?

But nevertheless, I wanted no one else. No other entity. I had finally found someone who understood the very depths of my soul; that’s not something I could ever let go of easily. And let go was something I never wanted to happen; of this I made Damian aware.

“What are the options for our future, Damian?” You can let me possess you, he whispered seductively in my ear.

I laughed and said, “What, you don’t think I’ve seen enough horror movies to know that’s not a good idea?”

I’m not like other demons, he said convincingly.

“You are rather sweet for a demon,” I said, laughing.

It’s decided, then. Let’s go somewhere special to make it happen.

“Where were you thinking?”

You decide.

“I’ll have to think about it and get back to you.

Absolutely, my love.

And with that he vanished into the night before I had a chance to say another word and I was left alone, once more.

————

My stomach was lurching at the thought of being possessed by Damian. Just the normal cold feet experience, right? Why should I be worried? He’s most certainly unlike any entity I’ve ever encountered before. Knowing, powerful, kind, intelligent…and that’s the thing you’re supposed to do when you’re my age right? Submit and allow yourself to be possessed.

I had always shirked away from the idea of marriage for just that reason. I didn’t want to ever belong to anyone except myself and the universe. The idea of being some man’s “property” made me want to vomit. Changing your last name to his to totally seal the deal. The patriarchy was something I’ve always rebelled against, so why was I questioning whether or not I wanted to be possessed by Damian?

Loneliness. I was aching inside and needed someone to fill that emptiness within me. Someone who understood me. No human man had ever truly understood me before. I hardly even understood me. I rarely took the time to understand myself with how busy I was with my work and traveling, always running from something, it seems. Running from my past, from myself.

But as it turns out, they’re right when they say everywhere you go take yourself with you.

And take myself with me I did indeed, to Malibu, with Damian. For our wedding — or rather, Possession — day.

——————

Chapter 4.

The warm pink sunset cast a dreamy glow over the pacific ocean as Damian and I stood on the shore together.

“So - how exactly do we go about this? I don’t exactly think you could find a priest would would willingly perform a possession,”

Relax, my darling, my bride, Damian said. All you have to do is surrender to me.

And without giving it another thought, I sat down on the white sand cross legged, and closed my eyes.

The next thing I knew I was in my mind, but I was not alone. There was another presence there.

Wow, the sunset sure looks beautiful through your eyes, said Damian.

“Yeah, it does,” I said, happy that I could share this moment with someone else.

We sat there together for awhile, celebrating our oneness. Basking in the blissful sensation of belonging to another. I thought my heart would explode from joy.

As the sun went down and the stars began to come out, Damian asked if I wanted to go to Hawaii for our “honeymoon”, and I obliged, in a dreamy, romantic trance.

————-

Palm trees. Crystal clear waters. Long days and slow nights spent wrapped up in Damian. Listening to his tales of the underworld.

Our love grew deeper in those weeks than it ever had before. It’s hard to express the feelings of deep spiritual oneness that we shared. There really are no words for it, except sinking deep into an ocean of pure peace and love that washes over you and makes you feel that everything’s alright, that everything’s happening exactly as it should.

—————

PHILADELPHIA, PA

Like all good things, the honeymoon eventually did end as my work beckoned me once more. Damian did not like when I had to work. Even though he was right there with me the whole time, it upset him that I was unable to give him my full attention, even for a second.

“Oh, stop acting like a child,” I said teasingly. “You know I’m all yours and you’ll have every ounce of my attention once I’m finished with my work,”

Yes, darling, he said. But sometimes I wish you would let me take care of you, so you wouldn’t have to put such strain on yourself.

“You know I love working, Damian,” I said, although it wasn’t fully true. “It gives me a sense of purpose and allows me to be independent and free in this world.” That much was true, at least.

Does it really, though? Aren’t there other passions, other goals you would rather be working towards?

“Well you know I would rather be an artist, but that’s not a very fiscally responsible thing for me to do at this point in my life,” I said.

Let me take care of you, he said again, and then I didn’t hear from him for a while.

———-

The next day, however, I got a phone call from my boss.

“Michaela, this is your boss, Mr. Richard Wadd. I must inform you that I’m letting you go from the company. I don’t really have a good reason, other than the fact that my fragile male ego is threatened by your superior intelligence, and I’m the one in power, so there’s nothing you can do about it. Goodbye.”

Damian was very quick to comfort me.

You know, love, there are certain benefits to having a demon as a spouse, he said.

“Oh do share,” I said, needing comfort now more than ever.

Close your eyes, he whispered, and as I did I began to receive visions; information, otherworldly knowledge, flashes of events.

Do you want me to take care of your boss for you? He said.

In my fuming, trance-like stupor, I nodded half-heartedly.

Good, he said. It is done.

——————

For the second time in the past year I was awoken to the sound of the police calling, beckoning me down to the station. My boss had been murdered, and they had evidence of my fingerprints at the crime scene.

I felt myself go white. There’s no way I was capable of murdering my boss. Sure I had fantasized about it as many do, but now he was dead and they had evidence linking me to the crime. Where was Damian? He was oddly silent this morning; I hadn’t heard a peep from him since last night.

“Damian,” I pleaded, “Damian, are you there?”

Nothing.

I felt sick and needed a minute to catch a breather before heading to the police station. That’s when the visions started and it came back to me.

I was walking through Spruce Street Harbor Park, but it was more Damian than me. In fact, it was all Damian. I was barely there except as a witness observing my own body moving without my control.

The door to the apartment of my boss’ row house was locked, but somehow I had a supernatural strength that was able to twist the doorknob right off the handle.

The only thing I remember after that was a blur of screaming, blood, me begging Damian to stop, and my boss begging for his life.

————————-

“How could you, Damian?” I said, shaking.

It needed to be done. Now, let’s leave town before the police catch us!

“You’re insane! You literally murdered my boss!”

That’s where you’re wrong, my love… WE murdered your boss. And as far as the police know, YOU murdered your boss.

“DAMIAN-,” I screamed, but it was futile. Next thing I knew I felt very dizzy all of a sudden and collapsed onto my bed as if I was black out drunk.

——————-

Everything was black for a very long time, and I had no consciousness of anything except an unending void of nothingness. I had an awareness that I was not in my body, and was very possibly dead.

Then everything turned light, and I was speeding through a vortex.

Ah, a tunnel of light! I thought. I really am dead!

Well, this isn’t so bad, I thought, as I sped along. There was no more pain, no more drudgery of existence, no more, oh, what was his name… Damian!

As soon as I thought of him, the speeding stopped and I was in what appeared to be an endless meadow, with fields of swaying poppies of all different colors. It felt surreal and dreamlike, and there was a total sense of peace that washed over everything.

As I was taking it all in, a being of light started to approach me from a distance. I felt a total sense of unconditional love emanating from her.

“Michaela,” said the being, who I figured must have been an angel as I saw her jewel encrusted wings swaying back and forth, “you have made a terrible mistake in allowing Damian possess you.”

“Who are you?” I wondered out loud,

“I am Cassiel, your guardian Angel. And we are here because you are in grave danger.” “I guess letting myself be possessed by a demon wasn’t such a bright idea after all.”

“No kidding!” She said, then laughed lightly, clearly trying to evade hurting my feelings.

But then she gazed into my eyes with a deep understanding and compassion, as if she could see straight through my soul and knew me better than I knew myself.

“You were lonely, lacking in self-love. You let your demons from your past overcome you. But it’s okay now, because I’m here to help. I’m going to show you how to reclaim your inner light and overcome Damian.”

“I killed someone, Cassiel,” I said, tears streaming down my face.

“No, Damian did it. And that will be taken care of. You must see now that there is so much in God’s hands - so much going on behind the scenes that you are unaware of. But we ultimately have your back. Your angels, your spirit guides, Source, the entire universe is secretly conspiring in your favor.”

“I don’t understand how they could allow all of this to happen to me then, Cassiel,”

“Michaela,” she said softly, “everyone has free will and must answer for the consequences of their actions. Karma catches up with everyone. But ultimately, everyone is forgiven for their deeds after they have worked through their karma and regained memory of their divinity.”

“So what happens next?”

“You’re going to be sent back to your body. By this point, Damian’s strength will make it hard for you to let go of his possession. But you must not give up or lose faith, Michaela. There is a light within you that is stronger than any force of evil that has ever been. And that’s the force of self-love. You must see that you are worthy and that love never leaves you, even when you are on your own.”

“That’s something that I’ve always struggled with.” “I know. And you are certainly not the only one. So many, if not all of your species’ problems are rooted in this lack of love. But it is infinite and existing everywhere, if only you will open your heart and allow yourself to tap into it.”

“So what does that have to do with exorcising Damian?”

“Allow the light to possess you instead,” she said, and with that, everything went black again.

————————

When I regained consciousness and flew back in my body once more, I was seated on an airplane next to the window, with a cocktail and an upscale looking meal in front of me.

Welcome back, my love, Damian said.

“Hi,” I said, in a fog.

Your dinner is waiting for you.

“Nice!” I said warily, “Where are we going?”

My dear, he said, we are bound for Paris. We are going to start a new life, you and me.

“A clean break!” Being powerless, I was just going along with him at this point.

Yes, he said, and laughed lightly

Once we touched down in Paris, I felt a renewed sense of hope and vigor. Because of the possession, I was able to fluently speak French. I had been here before when I was younger once, when the past that haunted me now was more of a present, everyday reality. I wanted to think that I was in a better place now, but given the fact that I was possessed by a literal demon, it was hard to say.

Now Michaela, my love, said Damian, while we are here, I will have some commitments to attend to in the underworld. I trust that you will be able to manage for several days at a time without me.

“I will do my best,” I said, like the dutiful wife I was pretending to be.

I know you need me, and are nothing without me except a lonely, blubbering mess.

“Okay,” I said. What an ass. “Can’t wait until you get back!”

———————-

With Damian gone, I felt like I could finally breathe a sigh of relief.

I spent long afternoon strolling through ancient cobblestone streets and evenings sitting on terraces, drinking wine and people watching. As I rode the metro and wandered in and out of several boutiques, an awareness started to wash over me.

And that was this feeling of total contentedness and peace - with just me, on my own. No more loneliness, no more aching inside. It felt as if I had a clean slate, a barren soil that was fertile enough to foster my growing sense of self-love and independence.

I met some very interesting people. One afternoon as I was strolling alongside the Seine I saw a painter and was inspired by his lifestyle. He made ends meet by waiting tables at night and spent of the rest of his time devoting his life to art.

There were some people who were in a much worse state. Many homeless people and I saw myself in them. My heart reached out to the invisible who had demons of their own they had yet to overcome and I wanted nothing more to help them.

I was exploring Notre Dame cathedral when Damian finally returned.

What are you doing here? His voice sounded very sinister.

“Sightseeing,” I replied casually.

Get out of this building at once, he hissed.

Apparently I didn’t have a say in the matter as my feet began to move on their own.

What do you say we have a picnic in the park underneath the Eiffel Tower, ma cherie?

The thought made me queasy but I agreed.

As we were sitting underneath the Eiffel Tower, there was an awkward pause.

You’re awfully quiet, Michaela.

“Sorry, I’m just soaking it all in. The twinkling lights, this lovely picnic you’ve prepared - it’s every girl’s dream!” And as I was saying it, I realized a part of me still meant it. After all the progress I’d made on my own, I realized I was lucky to be sharing this moment with another entity, even if he was a demon.

Yes, my love, he said. And there will be many more such moments to come. I’m never letting you go!

That made me feel nauseous and I seemed to snapped out of it a bit.

“Damian, I don’t know about that. We killed someone! We can’t keep running from that forever.”

I could feel his temper starting to rise.

So what are you suggesting, Mickey? Turning ourselves into the police? They’ll never believe you. They’ll think you’re insane if you tell them the truth. And you’ll be locked behind bars for the rest of your life. I’m your only hope at a good life.

After he said that, something within me started to fall apart at the seams. I was no longer sure of myself, sure of where I began and where Damian ended. I felt so controlled and like I had no way out of this relationship. I could only go along with it and hope for the best.

I remembered what the angel Cassiel told me and wondered whether what she said was true or not. Something within me told me her words rang true. Suddenly I had a very strong urge to expunge Damian and everything about him from my being. I needed an exorcist, a priest, but although I had a strong sense of spirituality I was not a religious person and didn’t think going to one would work. No, something within me knew the answer. And I knew I could wait no longer to rid myself of this demon forever.

But I needed evidence of Damian’s murder. I didn’t want to spend the rest of my life behind bars for a crime I did not commit. He was right in saying that no one would ever believe me. I needed proof that I was truly possessed by a demon.

And that was how I found myself at the PIOP, or Paranormal Investigators of Paris.

———

Of course, I had to wait until Damian was away at work for several days in the underworld. The PIOP referred me to a renowned shaman who performed exorcisms at Notre Dame Cathedral. I corresponded to the shaman via email and told her about my case. She said it sounded like a doozy alright, and that I should think of a way to trick Damian into planning a date at the cathedral where the exorcism could be performed.

That night when Damian returned, I turned on the charm and told him I had a special date planned for us tonight in Paris. He was exhilarated about it! First we went out to a fancy vegan restaurant for one final goodbye dinner. For the first time he opened up to me about some of his experiences in Hell.

So I said to him, in Lucifer’s name, you musn’t use that torture device! It’s from the 18th century. We’re so much more humane than that now. Get the Tiger Bench.

“My woke demon,” I said, Damian too wrapped up in his story to catch the sarcasm.

As he rambled on about his day in literal Hell, I wondered once more how I had ever let myself get in this situation. Sure, I had trauma from my past. Dysfunctional family. I remember growing up my mom would throw dishes at our heads when she was in one of her rages. Absent father. A string of loser boyfriends who treated me like nothing. I wanted so badly to be loved and understood that I was willing to settle for anyone giving me any attention, filling the place that was supposed to be occupied by my father. And of course, the mental health issues that plagued me from perpetually feeling like an outsider in this society. It’s no wonder I let myself become possessed by a demon.

But no more, I decided in that instant. I was healing and had gotten to a place where I didn’t need anyone’s love except my own. Everyday was a chance to start over, to pursue my dreams and visions, to become someone great. And to become that person, I needed to let go of my past. I needed to let go of my demons.

I needed to let go of Damian.

After the waiter brought us the check, and Damian was still rambling about his day, I said, “Hey, D, sorry to interrupt your story,” yeah, so sorry, “but there’s something I really wanted to check out at the Notre Dame Cathedral. I know you have an aversion to that place, and churches in general, but it will only be for a moment.”

Damian paused his story abruptly. If demons had hackles, you could almost feel his being raised.

Michaela, he said in a seething tone, I would really we rather not. Couldn’t we go to the catacombs instead?

“Oh, it will only be for a minute, sweetie,” I said, “I want to see the home of Quasimodo. And I know how much you love the song ‘Hellfire’!”

He seemed like he was starting to warm up to the idea.

Yes, that is one of my favorites, he said, and preceded to burst into song. You can be the Esmerelda to my Frodo!

Too far, I thought. “Okay, that’s enough!” I said, and we both laughed. There were some parts of being possessed by him I was going to miss, which is why what I was about to do wasn’t going to be easy.

But it wasn’t enough to stop me — us — from riding the metro to the Notre Dame Cathedral.

For the final time.

Chapter 5. When we walked inside, I was amazed once more by the stunning architecture of the cathedral. But even my amazement at the light shining through the stained glass couldn’t stop the nervousness creeping up in within me for the act we were about to undergo.

I could feel Damian’s discomfort and itchiness to leave. Can we go now? He hissed. “Of course,” I said assuredly, “but first I want to see the gargoyles.”

Damian let out a roar of rage but agreed, very reluctantly.

As we were climbing the spiral stairs up to the top of the tower, there was a hidden door where I knew the shaman would be waiting, with camcorders from the PIOP to capture video evidence that I was truly possessed and shouldn’t be held responsible for my boss’ murder. The shaman would also be able to testify as a witness.

“Oh, look, Damian, a hidden passageway!”

We ducked through the door and the shaman quickly slammed it shut.

NO! He screamed. YOU BITCH! HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME!

But it was too late for Damian. I lied down on the gurney and as I was strapped to the table, Damian started thrashing and wailing about. The shaman starting waving her arms and reciting latin incantations and I started reciting a few affirmations of my own:

“I am enough. I am whole. I am loved and lovable, without or without you. I am enough. I am whole…” and as I repeated these words, I felt an immense, golden light rising up from within me, covering my aura and I knew that Damian and all the demons from my past could no longer energetically occupy the same space as this light.

And before I knew it, it was all over.

———————

Things were different after that. I was determined to make it as an artist, even it it meant taking a pay cut. Being possessed by Damian taught me a lot, and I truly began to understood what Cassiel meant when she said that everything is happening in divine order, for our highest good.

For the time being I was working in a bar in Buffalo, NY, renting a small house and working on building my dreams during the day. I still had enough saved from my previous role as an investment banker that I didn’t have anything financially to worry about for a while, but enjoyed spending my evenings at the bar. It was funky and had a cool atmosphere that attracted a bohemian crowd. During the day I worked on creating music and photography. I dreamed of one day being a speaker and sharing the experiences I had, and more importantly how I had overcome them. I wanted to give back more than anything.

One night while I was working there was a very handsome musician playing at the open mic. He was very well mannered and we had an in depth, philosophical conversation about the nature of the universe. Before he left we exchanged contact information, and I had a good feeling about it, but I was in no hurry to rush into another relationship.

For now I was just enjoying my own company, fulfilling my passions, working towards turning my dreams into reality and making the world a better place.

For me, that was enough.

I was enough.

I had always been enough.

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