#but i also heard positive news back from the other apartment which is good!!! hope to god i won't have to make a decision

[izzymalec]

girl i had another apartment visitation today and i effin broke the fucking door of the kitchen cabinet lmao bury me bury me bury me bury me bury me bury me

[poppadom0912]

Together (IX)

Warnings: Mentions of violence, blood, injuries, abuse, kidnappings, shootings, swearing and scary men.

Summary: They're finally together and nothing's getting in the way... maybe.

A/N: So this is the second final chapter before the epilogue. This has been so much fun to write you don't understand. This is like my baby that I've had since January and I'm so proud. You guys have shown so much love for it that it makes me upset it's all coming to an end. So I hope you enjoy and cherish the last two chapters of this series!!

I'm not a professional so ignore any medical inaccuracies. Also, for my sake, let's pretend that all these characters are still here because I can't be asked to remember who left and what season is which. Everyone's just going to exist happily together ;))

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The gunshots reverberated through the warehouse, despite being cut off from the outside world it sounded like a battlefield where thousands of bullets were being shot when in reality it was probably under thirty people shooting back and forth at each other.

You’d been awake for a while now, your body curling around Will’s as both of you shivered. He tried talking, telling you stories that you somehow never heard before but talking became too hard at one point and his pain doubled resulting in staying in silence.

The silence made it easy to get lost in thought, getting carried away in the thought that maybe this was it. It daunted on you that no matter how hard you fought, how hard your brothers fought, none of it was enough at the end of the day because look at where the three of you ended up.

Half an hour later, Will was dragging you and himself towards the door as soon as the gunshots went off. He murmured how when the door was eventually opened, you’d be hidden behind the door and it’d taken just a few seconds longer to be found, giving Will hopefully some time to come up with a very last-minute plan.

Holding in your breath, you waited anxiously on the floor with Will crouched besides you, pain evident on his face from the new uncomfortable position. Just as you were going to tell him to sit down, footsteps could be heard stomping downstairs and across the corridors.

You and Will shared a glance, worry written boldly on both your faces. This was probably it and that thought of this being the end made the pit in your stomach grow. All this pain and suffering only ending in death, it was kinda pathetic. You prayed Jay mourned healthily, prayed Kelly wouldn’t lose himself and moved on, prayed that everything stuck together, and no one let this tear them apart.  

Will gripped your hand as tightly as he could, his body shielding yours as best he could because if this was it, then he was going to go down protecting you and putting up some sort of a fight. You squeezed his hand back as tight as you could, expressing words that you were too scared to say in the silence that was interrupted by stomping feet and shattering bullets.  

With a watery smile, you squeezed Will’s hand one more time for good measure, maintaining eye contact for just a little longer, having a silent conversation where you both said everything necessary with simply your eyes; eyes that you shared with Jay and eyes that he shared with your dad. Merely the thought of it made a tear slip from where you were pushing it back.  

Will softly smiled back at you, his thumb rubbing over your knuckles comfortingly. This minute of silence shared between you two wasn’t enough, you wanted, scratch that you needed more time.  

The sound of struggle was the next thing you heard; someone was trying to get into the locked room. The sudden banging overtook your thundering heart that was already having a tough time. 

The door burst open; it happened so fast that it hit Will’s back whose face scrunched up in pain. You squeezed his hand tighter to hopefully offer him some comfort, but he only adjusted his position so that his crouched body was fully covering yours from outside eyes.  

“Please, please don’t touch her.” Will begged, urgency dripping as it heavily coated his words. He would rather they did all the damage on him than you, you’d been hurt enough, and he could handle a little more violence. You argued he couldn’t since he was barely stable while on the ground. If he wasn’t being so hypervigilant and took the time, he’d realise he was worse off than he thought.  

“Thank fuck.”  

That didn’t sound like Jackson or Ezra, neither did it sound like any of their bulky lackeys.  

You slowly peeled your eyes open, watching as Will froze from shock. All the oxygen left his body as he lay eyes, finally, on Jay.  

“Shit, what the hell did they do?!” The fear and anger mixed as Jay took in the sight of his siblings. To see them again took off all the weight on his shoulders, relief replacing it but soon it was gone because you and Will looked worse than he could’ve ever anticipated.

“Help me up Jay.” Will ignored Jay’s question and instead held out his hand. Jay complied easily, pulling Will up onto his feet but as soon as he stood, he crumbled back onto the floor.  

“Shit okay, never mind.” Will groaned, eyes screwed shut as he caught his breath, arm protecting his abdomen. “Leave me for now, you gotta carry Y/N, there’s no way she can walk.”  

“Dude, neither can you or are you also blind now?” Jay scoffed; his eyes wide in bewilderment at his older brother's insistence. “Kevin’s down the hall, he can help.”  

You and Will hummed in reply, neither of you having the energy to properly reply. You felt bad because you barely did anything while Will did all he could and more despite being incapacitated.  

“Seeing your ugly mugs makes me want to cry.” Jay said, a smile appearing on his scabbed lips as he looked down at the two of you. There were no lies in his words, relief flooded his body at the simply seeing his siblings even if they were injured beyond human capabilities but being separated for so long, it did things to men.  

“Come on Halstead’s, let’s get you outta here.” Kevin said, suddenly appearing from out of nowhere, making you and Will jump in fright. It would’ve been funny had your responses not been a result of the trauma you just experienced.  

Jay scooped you into his arms, expletives spilling from your lips from your body being jostled around. His whispered apologies and tried comforting you, trying his best to quell your pain with just his words but it could only do so much. Behind you was Kevin holding Will around his waist, the pair being much slower as Will struggled mightily on his feet, but Kevin was a godsend, being the most patient and kind person as he supported Will.  

The bright afternoon sun blinded you as your finally entered the outside world, being met with fresh air, natural lighting and the company of people who had pure intentions of helping. You briefly saw members of intelligence surrounding you, acting as a shield as they guided Jay towards the ambulance waiting.  

The familiar faces of your favourite paramedics soon came into view causing a smile to break out on yours. As soon as you approached the ambo, Jay gently lay you on the awaiting stretcher and stood back, letting the professionals do their job while keeping watch.  

“Oh Y/N.” Sylvie said sombrely, gingerly pushing your hair back before connecting to a bunch of wires that you couldn’t remember what their purposes were. “We’ve got you, you’re going to be just fine, okay?” 

The question was rhetorical, but you still nodded drowsily in reply. You were aware of the two pairs of hands working on you, Violet and Sylvie were very likely panicking on the inside from the state you were in, but their concern took over. They could panic later once you were properly treated.  

From the corner of your eyes, you could see a new group gathering around the ambo and you could hear voices rising, getting louder the closer they got to 61. If you had it in you, you would’ve looked for the source, but Sylvie reassured you that everything was being handled.  

Violets hands suddenly disappeared as she suddenly exited the ambo, rushing with things in her hands. It took a while for you to understand why, your brain all muddled up, but it only now registered that Will was behind you with Kevin.  

“Will.” You mumbled, your voice scratching as your panic increased. “Will-” 

“Violet's with him.” Sylvie said, her undertone giving it away that she wasn’t confident deep down. “Another ambos on the way for him, don’t worry.” Yet, despite her own words, Sylvie didn’t believe in them. She saw Will for a brief millisecond when he appeared, the ruckus catching her attention, but he somehow looked worse than you under the blaring sun.  

Before you could insist on being told what was happening to him, the ambulance doors were suddenly being slammed shut as Violet drove with all lights and sirens.  

*****

Maggie couldn’t believe her eyes.  

It had been two days since the Halstead’s disappeared. Everyone was informed on day one about their disappearance and it was news that everyone found difficulty in swallowing.  

Everyone had been on edge for the 48 hours. While on shift, multiple people from intelligence and 51 made an appearance into the ED and their solemn faces were all identical. The tension was high, and it only got worse when Jay was randomly dumped outside of Med.  

Around an hour ago, Kim called in saying that Will and Y/N had finally been found and that they should be prepared for the worst. And so, Maggie did what she does best.  

61 Was the first to arrive with police escort, Hailey and Adam drove in front with Kim behind with Jay. They almost formed a protective circle as Sylvie exited along with Violet who helped pulling out the stretcher.

Laying eyes on you for the first time made the charge nurse sick. No matter how long she’d been working in the emergency department, nothing could ever make her get used to this.  

Sylvie relayed shakily what she knew about your condition, Crocket and Natalie listening intently with April’s assistance as they got to work as soon as they entered a trauma bay. Maggie stood with Ethan and Connor by her side, watching as chaos descended in the bay. The three of them were waiting for Will.  

“Jay, how about we finally get a good look at you, huh?” Ethan said, remembering what happened yesterday as he caught sight of the green-eyed detective at the back of the group who refused to look away from his baby sister.  

But the man in question looked like he’d seen a ghost.  

“Will’s not going to make it.” Jay stated, his voice strong and firm as he spoke. He looked away from where you were being treated and looked at everyone almost robotically. “Will’s not making it.”  

Before anyone could say anything, the bay doors were opened and everyone flooded out, pushing the gurney towards the elevator. Crocket stayed back from the rest, slowly walking backwards as he explained, “We’re taking her into surgery, but all things considered, she’s looking okay.” 

And with that, the surgeon was speeding off to basically save your life.  

“How about we look at you Jay? You promised me, remember?” Ethan asked rhetorically, guiding the stoic man towards a different, cleaner trauma bay so that he could properly treat him, giving him everything he desperately needed yesterday.  

“I don’t have Will.” Jay retorted but followed the doctor anyways.  

Maggie and Connor watched the two men enter another bay before all they could hear was the sounds of the bustling yet peaceful ED. They didn’t know what to make of Jay’s words, but the man seemed hopeless and on the verge of breaking down. He looked awfully similar to the time when his dad died.  

They turned to the paramedics and the three members of intelligence but the look on their faces told them everything they needed to know.  

*****

Jay finally broke down when he was left alone, your sleeping body being the only thing present in the room with him.  

Crocket fully led Jay through every procedure that they did, explaining what they did during the surgery and what exactly your injuries were. Usually, that was Will’s job, but Jay tried not to think about that when the surgeon gently spoke to him.  

You had several broken ribs, some even fractured, and it’d been very very close to puncturing your lungs - it was apparently surprising you didn’t have a pneumothorax. You had quite the concussion, multiple lacerations that were both superficial and that needed surgical fixing. There also had been some damage to your spleen that was repaired, a fractured left hand and an out of place bone in your foot. 

Overall, everyone had been expecting much worse, but they did explain to Jay that recovering would be the worst part of all of this. They weren’t sure about neurological damage nor how bad your vocal damage was. Once you woke up, there was plenty of testing to be done.  

Seeing you alive and breathing, even while connected to a bunch of tubes and wires, Jay felt relief but oh so overwhelmed at the same time. So much happened in the last two days and now that he finally was left alone with his thoughts and feelings, the sounds of beeping machines and you sleeping painlessly, everything came crashing down on him.  

It properly dawned on him that the three of you had been kidnapped, you’d been hurt and hurt time after time. He was left to fight and get you back home and he’d been so close. For a while, Jay thought everything was done and he did it but then, but then Will happened.  

Jay harshly wiped away the tears on his cheek, his eyes catching sight of his bandaged knuckles and the IV in his left hand that he was itching to remove but then a voice sounding like Will warned him against doing so.  

Ethan did an x-ray on him, stitching his bullet wound and thoroughly wrapping it. He plucked several butterfly stripes and many cotton swabs to get rid of any and all blood stains. All in all, Jay would be off work for a few weeks, maybe some physio depending on how his leg felt but he was in pretty decent shape given the circumstances.

Jay bitterly laughed, shaking his head at the thought that he was expecting to have a full recovering with barely any long-lasting damage. He hated to admit it aloud, but this was going to stay with him forever, there was no way he was ever going to get rid of your gut-wrenching screams, they were forever engraved into his mind.  

And well, if Jay didn’t see Will at least arrive at Med, then nothing was ever going to be the same again.  

And so, what if Jay cried himself to sleep in the chair at his sister's bedside, at perhaps his only sibling's side.  

Jay drowned out his thoughts as he sobbed, hand curling around his mouth to muffle his cries as not to alert anyone of his emotional state. But, when Maggie walks in later to find the two younger Halstead’s gone to the world, she pretends not to see the tear tracks staining Jay’s cheeks.  

Series Masterlist:

@mads-weasley @sowrongitslottie @elite4cekalyma @senjoritanana @hufflepuff-blackwidow @mrspeacem1nusone @kmc1989 @goth-cowgirl-03 @daggersquadphantom @photographerkaiya0306 @jamie0515 @samanthavitale @iamasimpingh0e @lanea-1 @swidkid

[modern-day-bard]

Other Duties As Assigned: A Joel Miller AU Fanfiction

Content Warning: 18+ This story includes mature themes such as drinking, stalking, violence, and explicit smut. Minors, do not interact.

Chapter 26: Point Guard

ao3 | wattpad

word count: 3.7k

Joel

How blissfully peculiar it is to wake up in complete silence. Last night, I can’t remember having one nightmare, or even a dream. I was just…rested. For the second night in a row, and for the first time in several years, I felt rested.

I wasn’t convinced that the dreams had spared me when I woke up to a pile of hair that looked like honey and smelled just as sweet. But I was really there, with Gwen, even if I had spent it on top of the covers again. She may have rolled her eyes at me, but we had other business to attend to without complicating things further. For now.

The news broke shortly after we arrived back at Gwen's temporary apartment two nights ago. Beyond the knowledge that it was out in the world, Gwen hadn’t checked on anything as far as I know. We received the notice from Janet, and got back to our routine. It must have bothered her a little, because she asked me to give her more self-defense lessons the night when we got back from Harper’s. I was happy to oblige, though we didn’t get through much before she was yawning non stop. She insisted she could keep going, but by the fifth time I mentioned sleep, she finally agreed.

Gwen also received the email with a detailed report of all of her staff’s updated background checks, which I now have reminded her to look at twice. The second time she said it was going to be her reading material on the way to Paris. The idea of being stuck on a plane with her reading through all of my search history was a little less than comfortable, but I can’t say that’s the most intimate thing we’ve done anymore.

We’ve both been more careful these last two nights, probably because of the news. Even still, there is an energy between us like we are at a constant battle of wills to see how long we can make it before we look at each other again. And when we do, a new battle begins of who will be able to break away first. In sleep, she’s always reaching for me. Her leg wrapping around mine, or her hand stretching out until she can find gentle purchase on my arm. A small, content smile forms on her lips every time she finds me, and it’s always a struggle to fall asleep after the high of seeing her like that.

I feel for her walking through the building these past two days. Everyone always watches her. Well, how could you not? But this time is different. There’s pity there, which I hope Gwen doesn’t notice. It would disgust her. She keeps her head held high, even if there is pity, concern, or curiosity. Only Julian has had the balls to actually ask her about it, but I’ve heard the whispers in the hallway once Gwen’s door is closed. They probably think their secrets are safe with me, as I’m also on staff. But I’d share anything I hear whenever she asks, just as happily as I’d continue to share her bed for as long as she’ll let me.

I wasn’t that happy, however, to be in the car now, on the way to a Knicks game, with Gwen and Paul chatting in the backseat.

Paul seemed alright enough. He had a slightly nervous energy every time we were around him, but for all I knew, he was like that with everyone. Whatever his nerves may be, he must do a good job at quelling them to have landed such a high position at Russell Corp.

Gwen mentioned this morning that she was hoping to switch departments, and Paul was the best person to talk to. It didn’t make sense to me why she wouldn’t just speak directly with her father when she has the same name as the company itself, but I went along with it. As we’re leaving for Paris tomorrow, this was the soonest available time for them to get together. And, as it seems, Gwen was trying to butter him up before asking the question outright.

As soon as we arrive at Madison Square Garden, I’m wishing that they had chosen just to get dinner.

Carlos and Jace were almost a package deal with me at this point, and they arrived before we did to give us extra cover as Paul and Gwen exit the car. Even still, this place is packed. Packed and very, very loud. Road noise aside, there were hundreds of fans around every corner that seemed to already be incredibly drunk, some shouting across the large hallways of the arena. I felt a little relief when Gwen had donned a Knicks baseball cap as we left the office, providing her a bit more camouflage. That relief fades away as many people in similar gear still turn to see who the woman in heels is, and why she would be surrounded by bodyguards.

It doesn’t seem to phase Gwen as she laughs with Paul, lightly touching his arm. She seems to know exactly where she is going through the crowds, even though myself, Jace, and Carlos are technically the one’s leading her to her father’s suite. I stand just a hair closer to her than necessary, keeping my hand hovering behind her back. The way several of the men passing by have eyed her makes my jaw lock into place. It was unlikely the stalker would be here tonight, but that didn’t make Gwen immune to unwanted attention.

I’m grateful to see that there is a glass barrier between us and the rest of the fans once we are in the suite.

I stand by the door, folding my arms, expecting to stay here for the duration of the game, but after Gwen shows Paul over to the food, she comes up to me, smiling sweetly.

“Mr. Miller, won’t you join us for the game?” She bats her eyelashes, extending her arm toward the seats. She’s still playing with me, even with our one sided feud now dead and buried. After a quick glance to confirm Paul was too engrossed in the catering to notice, I gave her a wink. And just as I thought, her smile turned mischievous.

As I join her at our seats, she asks, “Are you a basketball fan?”

I shake my head, “No ma’am. Football, sometimes.”

“Have you ever been to a game?”

“A few. Never in a suite like this,” I glance behind us at the spacious room with leather couches, standing tables, and a kitchenette complete with drinks and catered food.

Gwen thinks for a moment. “Would Carlos and Jace like a seat as well?” They had remained outside as instructed.

“Unfortunately, they need to be outside to guard the door.” I normally would offer to switch, but I didn’t trust anyone but myself to look after her. Even my confidence that my own abilities dwindled sometimes.

Gwen looks a little disappointed, but she nods as Paul takes a seat on her right with a plate full of food.

The first half of the game is exciting, with both teams trading off the lead. I learn that the Knicks are playing the Bucks, and it’s tight right up until the buzzer. It’s impressive, watching it all unfold from what are probably the best seats in the house. I’m even more impressed that Gwen waits until halftime to lay into Paul.

“So, Paul, I’m really hoping to talk to you about transitions.”

“Oh?” Paul is fixated on the dancers making their way to the mid court line.

“Yes. Specifically, a transition for me from radio to the Isla Foundation.”

This quickly gets his attention. “Oh,” He glances at me for a moment, but I pretend I’m watching the first few rows in front of us. “I’m not sure that’s possible.”

“Really?” Gwen’s voice is innocent, and just the right amount of shocked. “Why? I thought I was supposed to gain some understanding of the entire company. Not just our least profitable sector.”

Paul clears his throat. “You are—that’s true. Why don’t we move you to theme parks? Maybe that would be a good move before changing to entertainment?”

There’s a beat where Gwen purses her lips, pretending to think. I know she’s thought the entire conversation through numerous times. She just needs Paul to believe that she is actually considering his unacceptable offer, even if for a moment.

“So, if that were the goal, would I move to the Isla Foundation after entertainment?”

“Um…” Paul glances at the door absentmindedly. “I’m not sure.”

“What’s a ballpark timeline?” It’s the most calm voice I’ve ever heard for an interrogation.

“Guinevere…” Paul starts, looking at her, looking away, shifting in his seat. “I can’t say for sure.”

“Can you tell me why I’m not allowed on the philanthropy board at least?”

“I never said you weren’t allowed.”

“And yet you won’t allow it.” There’s just a hint of sharpness to her now, even as she lounges back in her chair, her arm slung over the side of Paul’s. She watches him like a lynx. Completely relaxed, even right before she goes in for the kill.

After Paul’s prolonged silence, she sighs, leaning forward to grab her drink off the small table in front of us. “Paul, you won’t be in trouble for telling me something that I, most likely, already know. Why won’t you let me join that side of the company?”

“It’s not me!” Paul’s hands go up, and then dread and realization cascade over him. He runs a hand through his partially graying hair, exasperated. “It’s not me. I was just given instruction that you were too…risqué to be part of either charity.”

Paul may be the messenger here, but I’d still like to punch him across the face for that one.

“Risqué?” Gwen asks carefully.

“Yes. With your social media accounts, bikini photos, the rumors of your dating history…” Paul trails off, clocking the stare I’m giving him now. “It’s not what I believe, Gwen. Really, it isn’t. But I was told that you weren’t to go near the Isla Foundation for PR purposes.”

Gwen nods slowly, absorbing the insult as Paul watches her nervously and music blasts throughout the arena around us.

“What about the other PR stunts? What about the rumors of some of the men on the board? Murphy is doing photo ops for the foundation, for Christ’s sake.”

Paul’s voice softens. “It’s not my choice, Gwen. I agree with you.”

“What about the Russell Foundation? Why can’t I get started there?”

Paul contemplates this momentarily. “That one is…possible. I’m not sure if it’s off limits or not but we could try.”

To me, that sounds pretty promising. To Gwen, knowing far more than me, it’s not enough. “What does trying look like?”

Paul runs a hand down his face, and the crowd cheers as the teams reenter the court. Only a few moments left to seal the deal. “You mentioned you were leaving tomorrow? By the time you get back, I will have placed you somewhere else. I will try to see what I can do about the Russell Foundation.”

Gwen purses her lips. “Do you think you could do more if this suite was available to you for the rest of the season?”

Paul smiles now, “It couldn’t hurt.”

Gwen’s returning smile is warm, all signs of the lynx vanishing. “That sounds like a good start.” She clinks her glass against his just as the buzzer sounds.

- - -

I feel some of the tension ease from my jaw and shoulders when we get back into the car, and even more so when we are finally dropping Paul off at his building. Rodney pulls over to the curb, and I pretend not to be eavesdropping.

“Thank you, Guinevere. You know how to show a guy a good time.”

I clench my fists in the front seat. His tone doesn’t exactly read as innocuous.

“Of course. I hope you’ll keep what we discussed in mind and I’ll speak to you as soon as I get back.”

“Right. See you then,” Paul leaves the car, and Gwen slumps back in her seat. I wish I was the one driving so I could see her face in the rearview mirror. That way I could at least try to determine how she thought it went.

Back at her new building, we follow our routine. Gwen says goodnight to all three of us, and I enter my room long enough to hear their door close. Usually I would shower before going to her room, but I want to see if we can squeeze in some more self-defense training before she gets too tired this time. Five minutes later, and I’m lightly knocking on a door that is opened before I can finish.

“He’s such a liar, isn’t he?” Gwen scoffs after the door closes behind me.

“About…which part?” I take a seat on the couch, even though my sheet and pillows have been moved to her bed several nights ago.

“All of it. And saying that it’s because I’m too ‘risqué,’ meanwhile they’ve paid thousands in hush money over the years even before they came to work for my father. Ridiculous.”

She’s pacing back and forth, still in her heels. I imagine she’s been pacing since we got home.

“He seemed like he was telling the truth to me. He’s just so nervous that—”

“No, no. My father is the liar. Poor Paul is just the messenger. Who else would tell him that he shouldn’t add me to my own mother’s foundation? Only other board members would even have the authority to do that. You’d think my seat would count for something, but apparently I'm not allowed to sit in it all the time.”

She stops, taking a deep inhale.

“You mentioned Murphy again.” I couldn’t help but say it. None of it is my business, and it hasn’t been my business since I arrived. But that didn't stop me from wondering. Didn’t stop the anger rising in my body when she mentioned him or Ralph and whatever happened between them.

“The groom, yes.” Her mind is somewhere else, her eyes scanning across the floor.

“What I mean is, what happened with him? And Ralph?”

This gets her attention, or at least part of it. “What do you mean?”

“You mentioned him again tonight, and I know their presence is one of the worst parts of Wednesday dinners. What did they do?”

“Oh. They’ve just made weird comments over the years.”

I give her a minute, both of us knowing I won’t be satisfied with that answer. But being who she is, she doesn’t give in to me right away.

“What sorts of comments, Gwen?” I ask softly.

“Ugh, I don’t know. Comparing me to my mom to start. Saying that they were lucky to have me since she was already taken.”

My fists clench at my sides for the second time tonight. “Which one said that?”

“Ralph. Murphy agreed. I was sixteen at the time—it was a family birthday party. Murphy also commented on my bathing suit that day.”

An extra deep cut with Paul’s comment tonight, I imagine.

“Anyway,” Gwen sighs, as if we were discussing the weather, “Murphy ramped it up when I was eighteen. I remember one truly egregious comment about the size of my chest,” she laughs without humor, “But thankfully I was off to college by then. When I interned, he backed off quite a bit. My guess is it was due to seeing me in the boardroom, reminding him that I’d be his boss one day. But that’s just a guess.”

“Gwen…” I say even softer than before, “That’s sexual harassment.”

And to add to my frustration, she rolls her eyes. “You think I don’t know that? I have my own plans for them once I do take over, but unfortunately, like most things in this world, I’m playing the long game. It’s not a simple task to cut out a board member. Most of the time you have to wait and hope they step down.”

“I know you know. I just meant…I’m shocked that they feel comfortable doing so.”

She smiles at me in a sardonic way that makes my stomach churn. “Money makes everyone comfortable with doing bad things.”

Finally, with another sigh, she perches on the edge of one of the dining room chairs, settling somewhat. “It seems to be common with them. Even Cryus. I like him enough, but his wife just divorced him not too long ago. Rumor has it that it was for cheating with multiple women. The Russell Corp epidemic, I suppose.”

I want to know if she ever told her father. And if she did, what did he do? Not enough, if these men were still working for him, earning millions each year under his name. It made me want to go back to the night where Cyrus joined Gwen in the hot tub so I could walk in and rip him out of the water. Maybe he hadn’t been one of the men to say disgusting things to a teenager, but they were all complicit in it.

“Joel?” Gwen’s quiet voice anchors me. “You look like you…have a headache or something.” Her eyes dart down to my still-clenched fists, and I release them quickly.

I shake my head in hopes of clearing it. “Sorry. It’s…unsettling, hearing those things even secondhand. And I’m sorry you had to hear them from men like that.”

“You’re angry,” she whispers. I guess I hadn’t thought to filter my tone.

“Yes. That shouldn’t have happened to you. I wish I had been there…”

“You didn’t even know me then.”

“They don’t even know you now.”

This makes Gwen’s gaze soften further, and she looks almost concerned watching me. After a few moments of us measuring each other’s expressions, she kicks off her shoes.

“Are we doing more self-defense tonight?”

I shouldn’t be surprised that she’d still be game even after all that.

“You’re the boss, Miss Russell. You tell me.”

“Unfortunately, I think it would be a good idea.” She hops up from her chair, shrugging off her blazer. “That is, unless you’re too tired.”

I can tell she’s sincere in the way she says it, but I still see it as a challenge. “Not at all.” I stand from my place on the couch, meeting her in the middle of the kitchen.

“Let’s start with what you remember.” I try not to read into the way she scans me head to toe as I approach her. “Can we try a wrist grab?”

Gwen nods. “Go on.”

I grab her wrist, gently at first, before bringing it up and attempting to yank it behind her back. Gwen quickly turns her hand and twists away from me, breaking the hold.

“Good. Now, both hands.”

I grab both of her wrists, holding them tightly in front of her. She yanks them toward her sides, but doesn’t break free.

“Harder,” I tell her.

She yanks them sharply, all the way to her sides this time, making sure to step back as strong as possible.

“Perfect.”

She smiles. “Now if only my attacker will tell me what he’s going to do before he does it.”

I grab her wrist quickly, softly, but still catching her off guard. I pull her closer to me so I can whisper, “If you ever have an attacker make it this far, then I’ve failed you. And I expect you to take out all that anger on him.”

She narrows her gaze at me. “It doesn't necessarily mean you’ve failed. What if someone broke in here while you were in your room?”

I drop my voice an octave lower. “We both know I won’t be in my room.”

Her face flushes, and I know I won this round.

“I’ll show you how to break out of a hold from behind, and then you can take a shower.”

“Is that your polite way of telling me I smell?”

I dip my head lower so that my nose nudges her neck. “You smell amazing. But again, I know you always shower before bed.”

She sighs a little before answering, “Right.”

We play out a few of the maneuvers, and I explain to her how to break out of a hold around her waist and her neck. Just like the other night, she is far more focused than a few months ago. She nods intently, listening to every word, and mimicking my motions before she tries them herself.

“Okay, this time is full force. And then we can call it quits. Ready?” I tap her shoulders gently before letting go, and she nods her head in the affirmative.

I lunge forward, wrapping my arm around the sides of her shoulders so she can’t lift her arms. Immediately, she shifts one of her hands through our center, grabbing onto my opposite arm. Pushing against, she breaks apart, pretending to elbow me in the gut before turning and kicking out with her foot.

“Good girl. Well done.” I smile at her, impressed, but her eyes flare with something else. “I think I preferred dancing, though. Your elbow had a little punch to it.”

“Maybe you just have to be a bit quicker,” she tosses a lock of hair behind her, straightening her top.

“Or you’re just a quick learner. It wasn’t like that the first time.”

“Oh?” Gwen starts finger-combing her hair, sounding mildly interested.

“Yeah, you ran out on me pretty quick. Why’d you start paying attention?”

She shrugs, “The threat feels a little different now...and there’s people I care about at stake,” Then, on a dime, her voice turns playful. “Plus last time, I was too turned on to think,” She smiles at me as if she just told me to have a good night, and struts off toward the bathroom.

Wait.

“What?” I call after her, a stunned laugh escaping my lips.

I follow her, determined to hear the explanation, but she’s already closed the bathroom door. Lust and curiosity encourage me to knock, and I listen to them.

“Yes?” Gwen calls innocently through the barrier.

“Care to explain?” I ask just as sweetly.

The shower turns on, and it’s even harder to hear her reply. “Go shower so we can get some sleep, Joel. We have an early flight tomorrow!”

I sigh, leaning my forehead against the cool wood. “You’re going to be the death of me,” I whisper, knowing my center of gravity can’t hear me through the door.

Previous Chapter

Masterlist

[mayajadewrites]

ghostin

chapter two: year one

read chapter one here

this chapter is short, but we're going by years. so this chapter is year one after the blip. next one is year two.

Year One

Every day feels like a war inside your mind. Constantly trying to figure out why this happened, why so many people had to perish. Why is the world so cruel?

Just when you let yourself jump and fall in love, let your walls down, bring your emotions and baggage to the forefront, he disappears. 

New York is in disarray after the blip. Wilson Fisk has taken the position of mayor for the time being, which Matthew would hate. He would also hate who you are right now. You took a job under Fisk to take out any of his enemies and make sure the city is set for him to take over. Your nights are filled with fighting and watching people you've never met lose their soul to Fisk's wants. 

Every night you return to Matt's apartment, running your hand over his side of the bed. His smell is almost gone from the sheets. The coffee stain is still on the floor along with the pieces of the cup. You refused to pick it up or disturb the pieces. 

The world's heroes, 'The Avengers' haven't done shit about the blip. From what you heard when you were perched on a rooftop, a monster named Thanos initiated the blip and got rid of half of the universe. You watch Steve Rogers constantly try to reassure the city that they will fix this. 

"Tch." You suck your teeth as you watch Captain America try to console New Yorkers. "You will never understand what we're feeling." You turn your head, trying to reverse the tears that are flowing out of your eye. Sometimes you feel like this is all a cruel nightmare and that Matt will come back any moment. 

Every morning is torture. His touch, his smell, his voice, everything is gone. You think about his laugh every single day to make sure you don't forget the beautiful sound. You can't bring yourself to sleep anywhere other than his bed. 

You try to put up a facade that everything is okay. That you're okay. Foggy calls you every now and then, checking in on you. If it wasn't for him, no one else would.

"Hey, Fog." You press the phone to your shoulder.

"It's been exactly a year since the blip." Foggy's voice was shakey. "I thought they would've fixed this by now." 

You shake your head. The hope Foggy has in the Avengers is admirable, but you are quite pessimistic about the whole thing. "Tony Stark has gone into hiding basically with his wife, and he's the smarts of that team. I don't know."

"Damnit Stark." Foggy says. "How are you, though?"

"You know the answer to that." You look down at your black combat boots as the New York wind flows through your hair. "I'm the same as I was when I watched Matt evaporate."

"Hey, it's gonna work out." Foggy tried to reassure you. "I believe theres still good in this world." 

"I admire you for that, Foggy. But right now every day feels like constant torture without him."

Foggy doesn't know you're working for Fisk. He thinks you're taking odd jobs to keep yourself afloat. He would be so disappointed in you and say Matt would hate what you're doing.

Matt would.

But Matt's not here.

No one is here.

[marveinator]

Afraid- Ellie Williams (1)

Afraid- Ellie Williams (Part 1)

PART 2 -> PART 3

Backround infos you need (THIS CONTAINS TLOU 2 SPOILERS!): This takes place after Joel died, and Ellie´s revenge already started. Dina and Ellie never had a thing going on, they are just good friends, and Jesse is still alive. Still- Ellie doesn´t have contact with them- since they did not accept her leaving. (Dina and Jesse are not a couple though)- also the reader aka your perspective is described as she/her but there is no use of Y/N!

A/N: This will be a series! I hope you enjoy Part 1, and I´m terribly sorry if something doesn´t make sense, English isn´t my first language! Tell me what you think and help me to let more people see this! Enjoy now...

Chapter warnings: Mention(s) of death, mention(s) of guns/shooting, overall it can be brutal,... I think that´s it?

It was dark outside. Through the broken window I could look a bit into the distance, but without any new discovery. Never did I, or anyone, think the world would end like this. Shattered, possessed, and above all: controlled. It is difficult to explain how the world was before. I, myself, do not know. This has always been the way life goes for me, this is how it began, this is how it ends. In the midst of an apocalypse that finds no end.

I decided to get out of "my" bed. It was probably midnight, but I didn't care. As I crawled out from under the covers, I felt goosebumps brush over my body. Stupid broken window. I hated it here. I don't know about the other QZs, but I hope for everyone's sake it's better than here. Vancouver. I was born here, I live here, and I will die here. I've never seen anything else. If someone asked me now what my greatest wish is, I would probably say to finally get out of this shithole. I'm sitting here, living in a small apartment. Not mine, but my friend's. He's always working… and is almost never around. Work is also one of those messy things here…. I think FEDRA has and never had anything under control. Anyway, I got up and put on shoes. Also my dark gray jacket, the only one I own.

Just as I was about to go into the kitchen (which can't even be called a kitchen, it's way too small for that), I heard a loud scream. I quickly ran back to the (broken) window and looked out. Down on the street people were shooting. Probably the fireflies. Ironic, isn't it? I actually had hopes of becoming a part of them once. Just to get out of here.

"Turn around right fucking now." An unknown voice. I turned around and looked into the eyes of a tall brunette girl. She had a tattoo on her forearm and a gun between her hands. "I really don't want to hurt you, but I need you to tell me where your dear friend Liam is." Her words sounded harmless, however the tone of her voice could tell me that she wouldn't hesitate for a second to kill me. I took a deep breath, I didn't want to die yet despite the circumstances. "He's working," I said dryly. This answer apparently didn't please the girl at all, because she came a few steps closer. "Stupid. Who do you think he is working for right now? At this hour? For FEDRA? They're busy enough taming the fireflies." Oh. Kind of makes sense. "FEDRA doesn't care about annoying 20-year-old men who want food. So, tell me, where is he? I still have a bullet, believe me."

Automatically, I took a step back. "Leave me out of this. I hardly ever see him, I just live in an apartment with him- I don't know anything." I didn't like this situation at all. "Get on your knees," the girl said, and I obeyed- not ready to take a bullet. I knelt on the cold floor and felt goosebumps rise again, but probably it was the whole position I was in that scared me. So helpless and close to death. Yes, I wanted excitement in my life, but not like this….

"And now you listen to me. Your friend, or whatever, is working for someone who killed a person who was very important to me. So maybe if you do want to tell the truth, now is the last chance to do it." I stared up into her eyes. Her whole stature looked so frightening in the darkness. I could tell by the look in her face that she did this every day. Not sneaking up on random girls in apartments, no, killing people. Maybe she had already killed 20. Or hundreds. Or thousands… "Now fucking say something!" she screamed as she pulled on the gun to load it. Shit. I swallowed. Now I had to act smart.

Suddenly the wooden floor creaked. Steps. "What the-" Both mine and the girl's eyes darted to the door. Liam. Fuck. The brown-haired girl in front of me didn't hesitate and shot him. I saw the bullet go through his left shoulder and blood gush out of him. "NO!", I screamed. I quickly ran over to him and knelt down. "It had to be done." She wanted to leave. She pushed past and wanted to leave. No. Quickly I ran after her and grabbed her. "No. You can't barge in here and scare me to death and kill my only friend!", I cried. The tears were just running down my cheeks now. "I don't have anyone else! No one. What am I supposed to do now? You took away the only thing I had, and I thought that's how you felt, too?"

Ellie Williams POV I looked down at her, since she was quite a bit smaller than me. Pain was in her eyes…what had I done. Killing people- for Joel- had been easy. At least until now. But this time was different. I saw a girl standing in front of me who had lost the most important person in her life - just like I once had. "No." I- I was no better than Abby. "I'm- I didn't know-", I tried to continue, but I was interrupted. "Would it have made any difference if you had known? You're a murderer!" Ouch. "Believe me, whoever is the person you lost, I don't think he or she would have wanted you to be like this. You're a monster." Now I couldn't hold back my tears either. I was standing here, in a strange girl's hallway, and I was crying. Not very Ellie of me.

Reader POV Wow. I had managed to make a murderer cry. That was definitely not on my checklist. I turned around and walked back to Liam. His eyes were staring off into nowhere. We almost never talked, yet he had been important to me. Taking in a stranger just like that, as a roommate and friend, was certainly not a normal thing. I wiped the last tears from my face before simply accepting it. Sure, this may seem mean… like "Why is she getting over it so quickly?" Well… when you're used to losing everyone, eventually it doesn't surprise you anymore. Of course, the grief will always be there, but it becomes easier and easier to suppress it. I couldn't turn around and look at the girl. I couldn't. "I don't think we'll ever see each other again, and that's just fine. I don't want to see you anymore. Look, I don't even know your name. Forgive? I won't- I don't want to, but I'm going to try anyway. You don't deserve it, but I don't know your exact history. Which doesn't justify what you did, but maybe I just don't understand you. Now just go, FEDRA will be here soon, they must have heard the shot."

[metalnecklace]

There Was Heaven In Your Eyes

Pairing: Javier Peña x Reader (plus size)

Word Count: 3358

Warnings: Canon Typical Violence, Threats of Non-Con, Threats of Violence

Notes: Here’s the first official chapter! Thank you for all the feedback so far. Javi isn’t in the next two chapters as much, but we’ll get there. Also in case anyone missed the tags, the reader is plus sized. She is mentioned as having curves, and later on there is discussion about her weight and clothing issues and whatnot. Other than that the only description of her is that she is female presenting.

Masterlist

Chapter 1

Two Years Earlier

“Fuck,” I groaned, pressing my fingers to my temples.

I had been searching for teaching jobs everywhere, and I meant everywhere. My hands were shaking as I struggled to sort through the piles of ads on my kitchen table, while I tried not to let the mix of sweat and fear bother me while it stuck my hair to the nape of my neck. At that point I didn’t care where I worked as long as I could get out of Canada. Fast.

The idea of starting over scared the shit out of me, but it had to be done. I had worked so hard to climb the financial ladder in order to get to the top of my position, which was huge for a woman in my field, and I had married a wonderful man. My future was laid out for me and wrapped with a shiny bow. Until…

I shook my head and resumed searching, as there was no point strolling down memory lane thinking about what could have been. I had to think about what was going to be.

Finally my eyes landed on an ad.

‘Wanted: Teachers with any experience, preferably English speaking.’

“Any experience?” I thought aloud as my eyes further down the page.

It was short, but sweet. Due to political tensions there was a lack of teachers in Colombia, so they had begun looking elsewhere. The one that specified English speaking ones happened to be in a place called Bogotà. I hadn’t really heard of that place before, but I kept my eye on the news enough to know what they meant by political tensions in Colombia. Everybody knew what they meant.

I didn’t have much time to weigh the pros and cons, and instead rushed to my room to pack my life into the only two suitcases I owned before I could rush off to the airport. I couldn’t seem to fully breathe until I was seated and the airplane finally took off toward my new life. It was a long flight, but I welcomed the newfound safe space where I could finally close my eyes and rest for the first time in what felt like forever.

With my newspaper in hand and my luggage tucked away in a seedy motel, I marched up to the front doors of where I hoped would be my safe haven. Turns out the school wanted to know even less about me than I had been comfortable telling them. They just wanted someone who could keep their head down, remain non judgemental toward the students and their parents, and could do their best when teaching a new language while trying to learn theirs.

It sounded too good to be true, but I couldn’t afford to turn back. I sealed my fate that morning and went about the rest of the day finding a cheap apartment that was within walking distance to my new job.

Within a few months I had started feeling more and more comfortable with my new role as an English teacher in a school that needed discretion and hope more than I did. Many of the parents were involved in situations that I didn’t even want to begin to think about, but their children got to escape and be with their friends while in my care. The only childcare experience I had previous was babysitting my younger sister's children. She was my only family after our parents had died in our teens, but unfortunately life had gotten too busy and outside forces prevented me from seeing her much. It had been at least three years since the last time we had spoken.

My heart ached when I would recognize my nieces faces in the joy and sorrow of my students, but I poured what love I could offer into them and helped them as much as I could.

One of the children in my class had a father who only showed up every once in a while, but the rumours that had spread throughout the faculty were terrifying. He seemed non-threatening, just a little too comfortable talking to the teachers, including myself, at a very close range. Personal space clearly wasn’t his thing, but apparently working for the cartel was. There were whispers that he was one of the higher ups, but I tried to keep my head down and focus on just getting by.

Until one day when he came to pick up his son. He was acting particularly flighty, his eyes shifting every which way. I usually got the chance to tell him how his son had been doing in school, even though I wasn’t sure he fully understood English, but that day he barely said hello. Almost as soon as his car sped off another vehicle pulled up just outside the front doors of the school.

From my classroom windows I could see two men getting out and making their way inside. One was a tall blonde, who looked like he came straight from the states, considering he stuck out like a sore thumb. The other was also tall, though didn’t look it next to his partner, but he definitely fit in more with the locals with his dark brown mop and matching mustache nestled above his plush lips. As they walked through the doors it was hard not to let my eyes linger down the second man’s loose button up that was tucked deliciously into jeans that fit him like a goddamn glove. I definitely didn’t miss the flash of a gun that was held snugly into the back of his pants.

I shook my head the second the door closed behind them, and made my way back to the front of my classroom. I felt ridiculous practically drooling over another man especially after everything that happened, but I just couldn’t help it. Just as I had my thoughts gathered there was a knock at the door. I turned my head and standing in the doorway was the second man I was trying to forget.

“Perdón por la interrupción, Señorita.” (Sorry for the interruption). The mustache was even more impressive up close, as were his lips, and his deep chocolate eyes that I felt could see right through me.

“Lo siento, no hablo español,” I muttered. (I’m sorry, I don’t speak Spanish). I was used to the phrase by now, even though I had picked up some of the language by now I certainly wasn’t anywhere near fluent. But even with this practiced sentence I felt as though my tongue was too thick to wrap around the letters, especially after watching the way his lips formed around each word. My knees felt weak, and not just because of the badge he held in his hand.

“Of course, my apologies,” he said, his voice smooth like hard liquor, with a hint of smoke and gravel, I was almost waiting for the bite. He held up his badge so I could see he was official. “Agent Javier Peña, DEA.”

I felt a weight I didn’t know I was carrying melt off of my shoulders. Drug Enforcement, which meant he wasn’t here for me. At least not in the way I was worried about.

“I’m wondering if you could confirm whether a certain student is in your classroom,” he spoke so gently I felt comforted, but I wasn’t going to give in.

I shook my head. “I’m sorry, sir, but I can’t give that information away.”

He smiled and leaned against the doorway, bringing his head down closer to me. At the nearly intimate movement I could feel a heat creeping up my chest that I knew would blossom into a blush. He knew what he was doing.

“Please, Miss, call me Javi.” I was almost expecting a wink to punctuate his sentence.

“Well, Agent,” I bit back, “I cannot give any information about these students to anybody who isn’t their caregivers.”

I didn’t want to be on this guy's bad side, but I also wanted to keep both the children safe and my job. They weren’t just pawns in the ugly game their parents and government were playing. It was rare that my students had a voice speaking up for them, an advocate for them. When I signed up for the job I was signing up to be just that.

He nodded and dragged his eyes down my body before snapping back up. His jaw was working with frustration over my refusal to back down, but he finally stood back up to his full height.

“Alright then,” he spoke firmly, but still gentle enough that I knew he was more frustrated than angry. “Have a good day.”

He turned to walk away but not before pausing and reaching into his pocket. In between his fingers was a thick card, which he then held out to me. I took the card with his full name stamped along the top, and what I assumed was his number printed along the middle. Even though I had grabbed onto the card he still held it firmly in his fingers, causing me to look up and once again be lost in his dark eyes.

“If you need anything, ever, please do not hesitate to call.”

I bit my lip and nodded. I didn’t miss the way his eyes left mine for a split second to glance at my lips before returning. He nodded back and left. I finally took a deep breath, feeling the stretch of my lungs inflating fully for the first time since I laid eyes on the man.

I returned to my desk and sat down to finish up marking while the remaining students continued their steady chatter while they awaited their parents. The card felt heavy in my hands, but I knew it wasn’t because of the actual weight of the paper. I reached over to the garbage can but hesitated, wondering if it really was the smartest idea to throw away what might be my one lifeline. Almost as if I could sense his eyes on me I looked out the window and saw him watching my classroom before climbing into the passenger seat of his vehicle. With that last glance of Agent Javier Peña I decided better and took out my wallet. I folded his card up as small as I could and tucked it away. I hoped I would never have to call that number, but something told me I couldn’t get rid of it yet.

That evening as I was leaving work I realized I didn’t have a lot of groceries at home. Unfortunately that meant I had to stop at the market, even though it was later than I had wanted. I took too long marking and ended up doing some more stuff around the classroom than I usually get the time to do, but that meant I got carried away. By the time I left there was only one other car in the parking lot other than mine. Everyone else had gone home, I assumed the other car belonged to one of the cleaning staff.

The market was pretty empty, only a few other shoppers moved around with glazed over eyes clearly exhausted from their workday. I absentmindedly threw ingredients into my cart that were easy to prepare quickly that night. I was too exhausted to even think about putting effort into a full meal, grateful that at least the weekend was in a few days.

All of a sudden a cart bumped against mine. I went to apologize even though it wasn’t my fault, but the words died in my throat when I saw who the person was.

“Hola.” The father of one of my students, Luis, the one in the cartel, stood barricading my cart against the shelves in the aisle. His smile was slimy, almost oozing against his face. I didn’t trust him one bit.

“Hi, sorry, I didn’t see you there,” I said, flustered. I tried to move back to get away but he stepped forward with me. The hair on the back of my neck stood up.

“Where do you think you’re going?” His smile grew bigger, taunting.

I shook my head and stepped away from my cart. He stepped to the side of his and pulled back his shirt enough to reveal a gun nestled into the front of his jeans. My hands started to tremble and I found I couldn’t focus on anything but the hint of metal in front of me. He nodded his head toward the exit, and I found myself following him without a second thought, leaving my cart abandoned in the aisle.

He led me out to a car in the parking lot that I recognized immediately as the one that had been at the school when I left. I mentally kicked myself for not recognizing it before, but it was too common of a car to have pinpointed exactly who the owner was, especially since I hadn’t seen anyone inside of it.

I was shoved into the backseat before I had time to think about what was going to happen to me. Luis slid into the driver's seat and took off, tires squealing against the road and into the night. I sat up and tried to get my wits about me, but the sound of a gun cocking drew my attention back to the driver.

“Keep your head down and your mouth shut, mi amor,” he spoke harshly, the nickname making my stomach turn. “Eres toda mía.” (You’re all mine)

I did as I was told, but considered whether getting shot would really be the worst thing, especially compared to whatever he had in store for me. Before I could come to a final decision the car lurched onto a dirt road, away from any street lights or other cars. We were truly going to be alone.

Tears sprang to my eyes but I refused to let him see me cry. It was obvious I was helpless and doomed to whatever fate he had in store for me, but I wouldn’t let him see any amount of weakness. I would become a fortress if I could not fight.

The car finally came to a stop and Luis jumped out, running to get to my door. He threw it open and wrenched my arm out, pulling the rest of me to the ground. My skin stung where it made contact with the rough surface, but he had pulled me to my feet before I could think about it any further.

Before us laid a house that was not modest in the slightest. I had to wonder who it belonged to, considering he would probably wear nicer clothes if he could afford a mansion.

“Vamos mi amor,” he snarled, still tugging me along by my wrist, his grip bruising.

My heart was beating in my ears and I couldn’t feel my legs as they carried me closer and closer to the large wooden doors ahead of us. When we got there Luis pushed the doors open with a bang, startling the men behind them. They turned to us, raising their guns before sighing and lowering them once more.

“Oh, Luis, hija de puta,” one of the men said. (Son of a bitch/whore).

Another stepped over and looked at me. I struggled to keep my head held high under his examination and Luis' powerful grip.

“El Patrón no le gustarà está,” he snarled. (The Boss won’t like this.) “¿Dónde encontraste éste?” (Where did you find this one?)

Luis gripped my arm even tighter, in a punishing amount of strength.

“¿Por qué?¿Estás celoso?” He sneered and pulled me off to the side, toward an open door leading into a dark room. (Why? Are you jealous?)

In the middle of the room was a small bed that clearly had only been used for what I was assuming he wanted to do with me. He threw me onto it, the mattress so thin I could feel the springs under my body, and then he slammed the door. I could no longer hear anybody on the other side.

“Finally, it’s just you and me,” he nearly slurred. His accent was thick as he punched out each word. He climbed onto the bed and over me, pinning my wrists above my head. My nose wrinkled automatically as his pungent smell of body odour and bad breath invaded my senses. “Do you know how bad I’ve wanted this? To touch these curves?”

I was surprised by how strong he was as he held my wrists in one hand and stroked his other hand over my waist. I twisted my body, trying to get away but his hold was like iron.

“You don’t get to get away, I’ve worked hard for this,” he growled and slapped my cheek causing my head to turn sharply toward the thin pillow it rested on. I gasped in shock, my body suddenly going pliant. “Stay still, puta!”

The next thing I heard was the drag of his zipper as a tear slid down my cheek, and then the door busted open causing us both to jump. A gunshot rang through my ears before I felt a thick, warm liquid drip onto my face. My eyes had squeezed shut and refused to open while my whole body shook in fear.

I felt lighter once the body that had been pinning me down had dropped to the side, then onto the floor with a wet smack. I couldn’t stop shaking even then, still not opening my eyes. My breaths were ragged, ripping through my throat and getting caught in choked sobs that I couldn’t hold back any longer.

A hand landed gentle and warm on my cheek.

“Abre los ojos. Open your eyes.” The voice that spoke was unfamiliar, and surprisingly gentle. I obeyed and immediately felt a new flood of fear. I recognized the man, the monster, that knelt beside me stroking my cheek.

Pablo Escobar.

I remember seeing pictures of him in the paper and on my television before moving to Bogotà, and then seeing his face on almost everything else after. Then, he was right in front of my face.

I scrambled to the edge of the bed, trying to put distance between us, ignoring the dead body that was still lying on the floor.

“No hay que tener miedo,” his voice was rough, and rumbled through the room.

“He says there’s no need to be afraid,” another voice, higher and not as threatening, came from the corner of the room. One of the men who had been standing by the front door was still holding his gun, keeping his eyes on Pablo.

Pablo smiled at me, but I didn’t believe him. There were many reasons to be afraid, one of them was still warm and lying on the floor.

“Siento que este idiota te haya traído aquí,” he said looking in the direction of Luis.

“He’s sorry this idiot brought you here,” his translator said.

“¿Que hago contigo?” He looked at me once more, almost waiting for my reply to his question. (What do I do with you?)

I furrowed my brows and looked to the man in the corner.

“He’s unsure about what to do. Luis didn’t follow protocol. One of our lookouts could see that you were in the backseat without a blindfold, meaning you know where this place is.” He took a step toward me, his gun still held tightly. “You’re a liability.”

I shook my head frantically. “N-no I promise I won’t tell anybody, I didn’t really see much. I was too scared and it’s nighttime and I’m new here.” I could feel myself growing more and more hysterical.

Pablo reached down to the floor and lifted up my purse. It must have fallen when I was pushed onto the bed but I hadn’t even noticed. He handed it over to me.

“I heard you’re a good teacher,” he said, hesitating over a few words.

I nodded.

“Tal vez hay un uso para usted después de todo,” he smiled.

(Perhaps there’s a use for you after all.)

[sjsmith56]

None Shall Sleep

Summary: Bucky comes to the aid of his neighbour one night when he hears her crying after breaking something in her apartment.

Length: 5 K

Characters: Bucky Barnes, Sam Wilson, named but not described OFC, minor OFC, Pepper Stark.

Warnings: Description of eye surgery (personal experience), trust issues, Bucky feeling inadequate, health insurance company assholes.

Author notes: Inspired by this video of a tenor who sang Nessun Dorma (from the opera Turandot) accompanied by a flash mob orchestra in a German bookstore. The video showed up on my FB feed but I’ve always loved this piece, as it’s full of passion. My description of the opera is taken from the internet. https://fb.watch/pE60YHrtsM/? I’ve been to one opera in my life (La Boheme) which I enjoyed. Bucky is a big softy in this one shot which ends very romantically.

👁️ 🎶 🌖

Sam carried the last box into Bucky's new Brooklyn apartment, taking note of the high ceilings and windows this place had, compared to his old place, the small studio apartment.  With the settlement for his back pay, and damages for what had been done to him awarded from the now unfrozen assets of Alexander Pierce and several other high ranking HYDRA officials, James Buchanan Barnes was finally in a position to live in a manner that he deserved.  Buying this apartment was the start of his new beginning.  He also had plans to take some college courses so that he could prepare for a life that didn't involve using just his physical attributes.

"This is really nice, Bucky," he said, as his friend came out of the bathroom with an empty box, pulling the tape off the bottom so he could flatten it.  "Pepper found this place for you?"

He looked around.  "Yeah, it is nice.  Still has enough of the old features like hardwood floors and finishes, vintage claw foot tub in the master ensuite bathroom, mosaic floor tiles in both bathrooms.  Feels familiar but it's mostly modern so it should last a long time.  Not sure how the other owners feel about me living here but no one's said anything yet."

"Why would they?" Bucky scowled without answering.  "Hey, your money is as good as theirs.  You're quiet, you're not a criminal, and honestly, it will likely make criminals think twice about trying to break in.  I'm sure you'll be attuned to everyone's coming and goings pretty quickly."

"You calling me a busybody?" 

At least he said it with a grin.  It was true.  His bad sleeping habits meant he was often awake at night, watching out the window for anything out of the ordinary.  Knowing his neighbour's habits came easily to him but wasn't always understood or appreciated by them.  Still, his previous landlord and Pepper Stark wrote character references for him when he first applied to buy in the building.

A week later he had met several neighbours, finding most of them quite nice.  It surprised him on the one night when he heard crying from his nearest neighbour's apartment, a woman he hadn't met yet.  At first, he listened carefully for any sounds of fighting or abuse, but it sounded more like frustration than anything else.  Then he heard the sounds of something breaking and jumped out of bed.  Approaching her door, he listened carefully again then knocked before speaking.

"Hello?  Is everything alright?  I heard the sound of something breaking."

He could hear the sounds of someone approaching the door.

"Who are you?" Her voice sounded both anxious and upset.

"Bucky Barnes.  I just moved in next door.  I could hear you crying but tonight sounded like you broke something.  I can help."

"Fuck."  He could barely hear her swear.  "Hope he's not an asshole."

With the sound of her locating the locks and turning them, he waited, only to be surprised by the sight of a woman with both eyes heavily bandaged.

"I'm sorry if I woke you," she said, extending her hand outwards, not quite in the right direction.  "As you can see I have temporarily lost my sight.  I'm supposed to have someone to help me but they haven't showed up for the past two nights and that's left me trying to fend for myself."

He took her hand gently in his, squeezing it then releasing it.

"Well, I'm here and I can help you if you wish."

"I know I broke something, and I stepped on it."  She lifted one foot, that seemed cut open.  Spreading her hands helplessly, she began to cry again.  "Could you just help me?"

"I'm going to pick you up and carry you to the bathroom," replied Bucky.  "You have cut your foot.  I can take care of bandaging that.  Then I'll clean up what you broke.  After that, we'll see what more I can do for you, okay?"

She allowed him to pick her up in his arms, carrying her into her bathroom, where he placed her on the counter.  Returning to his place for his first aid kit, since she only had a kit of bandages for her eyes, he gently cleaned her foot in the sink, then checked the wound for any pieces of the broken glass.

"What's your name?" he asked, as he applied some antiseptic to it.

"Roberta," she replied.

"That's a pretty name," he smiled.  "How long have you lived here?"

"About a year.  I sublet from the owner.  You just moved in?"

"Yeah, a week ago.  If it's not too personal, may I ask about your eyes?"

She lowered her head.  "I was mugged, hit my head pretty hard on the pavement.  It gave me a concussion and partially detached the retinas in both eyes, so I had to have surgery to fix them.  It sounds kind of gruesome, but they had to empty the eyeball of the vitreous gel to do it, then used a laser to seal the tears, and then a bubble of gas to reinflate the eye was inserted to keep the retina in place.  As the gas is absorbed into the body, the eye replaces the gel with new liquid, but it takes about six weeks for it to heal properly.  This past week I had to sleep on my stomach at the hospital, face down so that the bubble stayed at the back of the eyeball and kept the retina from detaching again.  I had an aide to help me at night for the first two nights when I was released, to make sure I didn't flip over onto my back, but she didn't show up last night or tonight.  Since I can't see, I can't call my insurance company to find out what happened to her and the woman they got for the daytime doesn't speak much English.  She just cooks and cleans for me."

He listened, fascinated by the medical process that would restore her vision, knowing that during the 1930s the success rate for repairing that was abysmal. 

"When were your eye dressings last changed?" 

"Two nights ago," answered Roberta.  "I was trying to do it myself because it felt gross, but I knocked something over and it broke."  She lowered her head as if she was looking at the floor.  "I just feel so helpless.  I'm sorry I woke you up."

Once again, he took her hand in his.

"I'm a lousy sleeper and was already awake.  You stay here while I clean up then I'll see if I can help change your dressings.  Is that okay?"

She nodded, waiting patiently for her neighbour to return.  At least he sounded nice.  Bucky wasn't a common name, perhaps it was a nickname.  Carefully, she listened as she heard him sweep a broom over the floor and into a dustpan.  The running of water was followed by the sound of a cloth being wiped over the floor, presumably to clean up the blood from the cut in her foot.  Then she heard the sound of footsteps approaching.

"Just me," he said, before he entered.  "Everything's cleaned up out there.  Now, how do I take care of your eyes?"

She told him to boil some water first and let it cool, then add a little salt to help with cleaning.  He left coming back a few minutes later.  He washed his hands, then unwrapped the larger bandage which released the plastic eye shields that protected her eyes.  Under them were gauze pads, which he carefully peeled off.  All she saw was the light of the bathroom, and the bubble of gas inside her eyes which kept her repaired retinas in place.  Everything else was blurred or distorted.

"It's pretty red," said Bucky, his face close enough to hers for her to smell his aftershave.  "Is that normal?"

"Well, it's pretty invasive eye surgery so I guess it is.  If you could take some clean gauze and dip it in the boiled water, as long as it's not too hot, you can clean the guck off, gently."

Patiently, she waited as he did as he was told, slightly surprised at how gently he cleansed her damaged eyes.  She noticed the sound of whirring and that one of his hands was warm and the other cold, which she brought up.

"I have a prosthetic arm and hand," he explained, hesitantly at first.  "It's a very high tech one.  I'm kind of the only person in the world with one like it.  It functions almost like normal, but they can't make it feel warm, or mask all the sounds it makes.  I'm thankful for it but I worry about how people see it."

Roberta smiled.  "Good thing I could only hear it and feel it then," she said.  "Although, I bet it's impressive looking.  Is it a prototype?"

"I guess," he admitted, then she was aware his face was further away.  "Okay, that looks better.  What's next?"

"There's a tube of ointment," said Roberta.  "If you pull the lower eyelid out, you can squeeze a small portion into each one and distribute it a bit.  That's to heal the incisions."  She waited while he did it.  "Okay, new gauze to cover my eyes, then the shields over top.  Just check that the shields are clean.  They can be cleaned with soap and water if they have anything on them."

She smiled as she heard the sound of water, assuming that the shields needed cleaning.  Then they were placed over her eyes, and she held them in place as Bucky wrapped the bandages around her head to keep them there.  By his silence, other than his breathing which seemed to shift slightly as if he was moving his head, Roberta assumed he was checking his handiwork.

"How is that?" he asked.

"Feels great," she answered.  "Thank you."

"Is there anything else I can do for you?  I'm guessing anything involving the eyes are out."

"I wouldn't mind listening to some music," she answered.  "My phone is around here somewhere.  If you could open the playlists, I could choose one.  You're welcome to stay if you're not sleepy."

She felt his warm arm circle around her waist as he helped her off the vanity, then he placed her hand on his arm as he led her out to the living room, telling her when they were a couple of steps away from the couch.  He joined her a moment later, as he placed her phone in her hand.

"Needs to be unlocked."

"Oh, it's set to Face ID which won't work with these bandages.  If I give you the code, do you promise not to go snooping?"

"Scout's honour." She could just feel the smile from him.

After giving him the code she waited while he opened her playlists, then he began listing them off.  When he got to her guilty pleasure one of opera, she told him to choose that.

"I'm a bit weird, I know," she joked.  "Not many people my age like opera but it was something my dad and I would do every time the Met put on a new one.  We always had discount tickets, would go for dinner, then to the opera.  Dad loved it and it was time well spent with him before he died."

"I'm sorry.  You must miss him."

"I do.  He died of cancer just five years ago." 

The sounds of La Traviata came on and he smiled as she relaxed, slightly leaning into him.  She quickly told him the plot of the opera and encouraged him to close his eyes and lose himself in the singing.  There were several other arias from other pieces that played then another came up and she straightened a bit.

"This is one of my favourites," she said.  "It's called Nessun Dorma, from Turandot.  A disguised prince falls in love with a princess who is indifferent to him.  To win her hand a suitor must solve three riddles, but if he gets any of them wrong, then he will be executed.  The prince succeeds but she still refuses him, so he challenges her to guess his real name, which would allow her to put him to death.  If she doesn't then she must marry him."

"Does she?" asked Bucky.

"That's the mystery behind this opera," said Roberta.  "The composer, Puccini, didn't finish it as he died, so no one really knows if he meant this to have a happy ending or a tragic ending.  This piece, Nessun Dorma, means none shall sleep, as the princess commands everyone to put aside sleep and find out the prince's real name.  Whether she found out and chose to reveal it or not is one of the great mysteries of Turandot.  Both endings have been used, written by other composers."

He listened with her, finding it a stirring piece of music.  As they listened to several more, he became aware of her breathing becoming deeper and more regular.  Roberta had fallen asleep.  Gently, he extracted himself from beside her then remembered what she said about sleeping with her repaired eyes.  Going to the linen closet he pulled out some towels and rolled them into position on her bed, to surround her face, keeping it off the surface of the sheets.  Then he returned to the couch and gently lifted her into his arms.  She whimpered a little and buried her face in his chest.

"You smell good," she whispered, sleepily.  "I like it."

"Thank you," he whispered back.

Gently, he positioned her face down, making sure that she was set in a way that was comfortable but allowed her to breathe.  Then he covered her up with her bedcovers and turned off the light.  Returning to his apartment, he laid on the couch, falling asleep until the morning.

Knowing that Roberta wanted to phone the insurance company about the aide not showing up, Bucky woke up early then listened carefully to any signs of the young woman getting up.  When she did, he went over and knocked on the door, waiting as she approached.  Instead, it was another woman who opened it and he looked at her a little surprised.  She spoke Spanish, identifying herself as Maria, the daytime helper who cooked for Miss Roberta.  Addressing her in Spanish, Bucky identified himself, waiting while she checked with Roberta before she let him in. 

"I thought you might want me to help phone the insurance company," he said when she came out of the kitchen.  "Find out what happened to your night-time aide.  I also speak Spanish if you want me to tell Maria anything."

"Yes please, to both," said Roberta.  "Thank you for putting me to bed last night.  I actually had a good sleep because of how you arranged the towels.  How did you know how to do it?"

He shook his head.  "Just seemed right."

She gave some instructions for Maria, which he passed on, then dialled her insurance company for her, placing the phone on speaker so she could talk to the agent.  When she told them the aide hadn't shown up for two nights they disputed her account, saying the woman had clocked in.  Bucky frowned as he listened then asked if he could speak.

"Hi, I'm Roberta's neighbour," he started.  "I can't say about Monday, but your aide was definitely not here last night because I heard Roberta crying after she broke something and cut her foot open.  I looked after her, cleaning her eyes and changing her dressing.  She wouldn't be phoning to complain if your employee actually showed up, don't you think?"

"Well, our employees are very professional and whose to say that you aren't lying on behalf of Miss Paxton?" said the woman on the other end.

Roberta's face reddened when she heard that, and Bucky felt his own irritation grow at the insinuation.

"Well, why don't I give you the name of someone to verify my identity," he said.  "If you would be so kind to contact Pepper Stark at Stark Industries, I'm sure she can vouch for me."

"Your name, sir?"

"Bucky Barnes, currently one of the Avengers.  My full name is James Buchanan Barnes."

There was no sound from the insurance agent for a moment.  Then there was a little cough, and she came back on.

"I will make that call and get back to you, Mr. Barnes," she said.  "Will you be at this number?"

"Yes, I'm not going anywhere." 

He hung up and placed the phone on the table.  There was silence between them until Roberta extended her hand towards him.  Gently, he took it and held it.

"You're really him?  I didn't quite hear your last name when you came in last night."

"Yeah, I'm him, the former Winter Soldier.  Once we get this cleared up, I won't come around anymore, if my presence makes you uncomfortable."

"No, I mean, I would like it if you came over.  I enjoyed your company.  You were kind to me and let me talk about opera and never once interrupted.  That's more than most men have ...." 

She coughed, then began to cry and Bucky reached into his pocket for his handkerchief, then looked at it, realizing her eyes were still bandaged.  Maria looked at him, whispering in Spanish that perhaps an arm around the young woman would be acceptable.  With a slight smile to her he did just that and pulled Roberta close.

"I'm sorry.  I'm kind of predisposed to being rejected and kind of jumped the gun on your reaction to who I was."

His phone rang and he fished it out of his pocket, seeing that it was Pepper.  He explained to her why the insurance company was calling, smiling as she expressed dismay that they would leave a woman without home care when she was basically helpless because she couldn't see.

"If they don't send anyone, I'm happy to help her," he said to Pepper.  "Roberta is very nice, and we got along just fine."

"Well, if they don't send someone, or if no one comes, you let me know, and I'll hire a small team myself to help her out."

He passed on the message to Roberta, who thanked Pepper profusely, then hung up, expecting to receive a call from the insurance company.  When it still didn't come an hour later, they phoned again, were put on hold then the call was dropped.  At that time, Maria came out of the kitchen with her phone, looking like she had bad news.  With a halting voice, she told Bucky she was laid off, as Miss Paxton's insurance policy had been cancelled.  Worriedly, she looked between Bucky and Roberta.

"Hold on, Maria," he said in Spanish.  "You won't be laid off, I promise.  Wait with Miss Paxton while I make another call."

After telling Roberta he had to make a private call he headed out to the hallway and called Pepper to pass on what he had learned.  She swore profusely, then he heard a large exhale of breath from the executive. 

"Alright, I'm assembling a team to take over Miss Paxton's care, and you tell Maria she now works for Stark Industries starting at twice the measly pay they were probably giving her.  Then I'm calling my lawyer and getting them on the sudden cancellation of her policy.  They can't do that, and I won't let them get away with it if I have to buy the company myself.  Don't you worry, Bucky.  We'll take care of Miss Paxton while you're on mission."  She hesitated for a moment.  "Okay, I wasn't supposed to say anything, but you'll be getting a call shortly."

Returning to the apartment, he broke the news gently to Roberta, then assured her that she would be looked after.  He also told Maria she still had a job, with Stark Industries, sending the woman into her own joyful expressions that someone would do that for her.  As she thanked him enthusiastically for his help, he received his mission alert from the Avengers and looked at the readout.  He had six hours to report for duty.

"Well, I have some sad news," he stated.  "I'm being called out for a mission, but you can take Pepper Stark's insistence on a team to look after you as the complete truth.  She'll make sure you're taken care of while I'm gone."

"How long will you be gone?"

"I don't know but we can talk whenever I have a chance," he replied.  "Give me your phone and I'll put my information in."

He entered his information in her phone then did the same to his.  Then they sat together on the couch.  Her hand slowly inched its way towards his and he held her hand while they waited.  An hour later, the doorbell rang, and the first member of Roberta's care team, Julie, arrived, along with a contract for Maria to sign that she explained fully to the woman.  He stood up, then began to walk towards the door.

"Bucky, can I see you privately for a moment?" asked Roberta, then she blushed and grinned.  "You know what I mean."

Julie took Maria into the kitchen, leaving the couple alone.  Hesitantly, Robert lifted her hands towards Bucky, and he took them, holding them in his hands.  She stepped closer, until there was barely any space between them.  Raising one hand to his face, she cupped his cheek as he watched her intently.

"Thank you for taking care of me," she murmured.  "You're a very nice man."  He began to protest but she placed her fingers on his lips, and he instinctively kissed them, bringing a smile to her lips.  "You are a nice man and don't let anyone tell you otherwise.  When you get back, I would like to see you again.  I don't know many nice men and I kind of want to keep you around."

If she could have seen it, his smile likely would have dazzled her.  With his free hand he brushed some hair over her shoulder then leaned down and kissed her gently on the lips.

"I would like to see you again, Roberta," he answered.  "You're a very nice lady and I don't know many.  You let them take care of you while I'm gone, okay?"

She nodded and they kissed again, for longer and with some feeling.  Then he caressed her face and left to get ready for his mission. 

Two months later.

Carefully, Bucky looked at himself in the mirror of his apartment, satisfied with his haircut and the trim of his beard.  After making sure his tie was right and that there were no white cat hairs on his black suit, he turned towards the window.  Alpine, the stray kitten he found on the mission and brought back with him, watched from her cat tree in front of the large window.  He confirmed he had his wallet and his car keys, then checked the inside pocket for the tickets, smiling at how excited Roberta would be when he told her where they were going.

"What do you think, Al?  Do I look good?"

A cross between a meow and a trill greeted him, confirming that he did indeed look good.  Leaving a light on in the living room, he gave the kitten a quick stroke on the head, then left, locking the door behind him and walking to the apartment next door.  He could hear opera playing in the apartment and smiled, then knocked loud enough to hear the music stop and footsteps approaching the door.  It was opened and for a moment he was dazzled at the vision in front of him.  Roberta was in a form fitting black dress that seemed to glitter like the night sky.  Its open neckline highlighted her collarbones, and a hint of décolletage completed the top part of the dress.  A long slit on one side showed off her shapely leg, along with the strappy-heeled sandals she wore.

"Wow!  You look amazing," he said, leaning forward to kiss her on the cheek.  "Pepper helped you get that dress, didn't she?"

Roberta blushed.  "Maybe.  We've become good friends, I think.  So, we must be going somewhere fancy because you're looking good as well."

"Darlin' I always look good," he grinned, then his face grew soft as he came closer.  "I mean it.  You look like a dream and I'm the luckiest guy alive."

They kissed and she used her thumb to wipe off the lipstick that transferred to his lips.  Taking her lipstick out of her clutch she reapplied it then waited as Bucky approached with her coat, helping her put it on.  They held hands on the elevator down to the parking garage, where Bucky held the car door open for her until she was belted in, and he got in behind the wheel.  As they passed over the Brooklyn Bridge, he told her to close her eyes so that it was a surprise.  When he pulled up in front of the Metropolitan Opera House, he reminded her to keep her eyes closed.  After helping her out, he handed his keys to the valet, then whispered in her ear.

"Open your eyes."

She opened them, ignoring the camera flashes from the paparazzi and seeing they were in front of the Metropolitan Opera House.  A big smile appeared on her face, and she looked up at him.

"It's Turandot, isn't it?" she asked.  "You got tickets?"

He nodded, then took her hand into the crook of his arm and began to walk to the entrance.  There were several calls of his name, and he stopped once, to the sounds and flashes of multiple cameras going off, then they turned away and continued inside.  After dropping off her coat at the coat check, they went up the staircase to the Parterre, where they were shown their seats, two in the front row of the left center box.  Two programs were already waiting for them, and he watched with an amused smile as she excitedly read it through.  When the music started, she watched the performance intently, occasionally glancing at him and squeezing his hand. 

At the intermission, they went out and ordered champagne for her, bourbon for him, sipping it as several celebrities approached them, introducing themselves.  Bucky was polite but reserved, his attention directed all towards Roberta.  The second half of the performance was just as enthralling as the first, especially when it came to the performance of Nessun Dorma, which drew a standing ovation and cries of "Bravo" for the tenor who sang it.  Bucky watched Roberta's face as she sat, enthralled at the whole experience.  When it ended and the theatre started to empty, she sat bright eyed, still staring at the stage until she turned to him.

"That was amazing," she enthused.  "I've never seen it before, and it was everything I ever hoped it would be.  Thank you."

"You're welcome," he smiled, standing and offering her his hand.  "Now, we can go to dinner, or we can pick up some takeout and have it at your place.  I'm good either way.  Which do you prefer?"

"You really don't mind takeout?  These sandals are beautiful, but I'm not used to them, and I wouldn't mind changing into something more relaxing."

"Takeout it is," stated Bucky, as they approached the coatcheck and he helped her on with her coat. 

On the drive back to the apartment building, they held hands, stopping only when they picked up some Chinese food.  They were both quiet on the elevator ride to their floor.  Inside her apartment, Roberta left Bucky to open the containers as she disappeared into her bedroom, coming out in a pair of leggings and a soft tunic.  He took his jacket off, draping it over the back of the chair, then slipped his shoes off.  They both ate a good portion of their food, then Roberta winced when she stretched her one foot, noticing she had a blister forming.  Putting his food aside, Bucky switched positions on the couch and gestured for her foot, gently massaging it.  As he ran his hand over her foot, he rubbed her ankle then her calf muscle, watching her intently.

"Stop," she whispered.

He stopped.  Carefully, she shifted closer to him, ending up on his lap.  Looking at his tie, she loosened it enough to raise it over his head, then unbuttoned several buttons on his shirt, placing one of her hands on his upper chest. 

"Stop," he murmured.

She stopped, still perched on his lap, close enough that she was well aware of the warmth of his body radiating through his shirt and the hands that rested on her thighs, in addition to the bulge already forming in his pants.  They gazed at each other then Roberta leaned closer.

"None shall sleep," she said softly.

"You're sure?"

"Very sure."

Slowly, he ran his right hand up her body to her neck.  Placing his hand at the back of her neck he pulled her closer then wrapped his arms around her as they kissed passionately.  They explored each other's lips and mouths thoroughly, before pulling away, each of them a little breathless.  Lifting herself off of Bucky, Roberta went over to her phone and brought up the opera playlist then turned off the light and stood in front of the couch, offering him her hand.  He kissed it, then raised himself off and picked her up in his arms.

"You smell good."  Her eyes were luminous in the dark that was lit only by the moonlight coming in the floor to ceiling windows.  "I love you."

He smiled softly, kissing the top of her head.  "I love you, too."

To the sound of her favourite arias, Bucky carried Roberta into the bedroom where neither of them slept until much, much later.

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One shots Masterlist.

[deardaveyturner]

“Are you satisfied with an average life?”

-Hello fellow citizens of Hatchetfield and our dear friends from Clivesdale.

-My name is Davey I’m a sophomore student in hatchetfield high school and a member of the hatchetfield community service volunteer program.

-I’ve heard from my fellow pupils that tumblr is a growing in popularity here. I thought it would be fun to use in my spare time and maybe to even meet new people!

-I don’t really know what put to here because this is my first tumblr blog….

-I’m apart of the student council,the gsa/gay straight alliance, gsnn (green school national network) debate club, chess club and am currently in the process of joining the year book committee. the power of caffeine can get you through anything! This will all look good for college

-I’m really passionate about fundraising especially to those who are less fortunate than us I’ve organised bake sales, yard sales and collecting signatures. I really hope that I can help create a better version of our world!!

-aside from fundraising I’m also working on creating a better version of our school!! apart of the reason on why I joined the student council.

-I really don’t know what else to put down so Harvard Yale or any other ivy langue colleges I’m right here!

(Ooc// he wrote this thinking that he would be scouted by a Harvard or Yale agent)

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Ooc information.

-mod is between 15-17

-mod would like to stay anonymous for now

-mod runs other blogs in this fandom so if I don’t follow you back than I’m already following you.

-mod is uncomfortable with nsfw asks.

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Oc info.

-name: David “Davey” James Turner

-age: 15-16

-birthday: February 12th

-height: 5’7-5’9

-sexuality: gay and asexual

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Fun and not so fun facts.

-collects toy dinosaurs

-has a caffeine addiction from pulling all nighters and is a regular customer at beanies

-agrees with Grace Chasity on cancelling home coming.

-known for carrying around a clip board which he’s had since sixth grade.

-dreams of getting into an Ivy League college one day.

-unironically a huge Marina fan.

-unironically motivated by corny/over the top motivational quotes

-probably has toxic positivity.

-cried over getting a 90% in a test once.

-people know him as the clipboard boy or the try hard.

-his parents had him at 19 after they did it at their senior prom. Davey hates this and is working to create a reputation for himself outside of his parents “happy mistake”

[broodwoof]

Happy Friday! For DADWC, how about "severely wounded during battle" for Varric/Solas? 👀

okay so this is a post-trespasser fic that’s very loosely inspired by a scene from the missing (which tbf i have Not read). shouldn’t spoil anything tho. working off the idea of a slowly developing relationship for them that hasn't quite become established yet @dadrunkwriting 698 words cws: gut wound; enemy death; no other character death

Shit. How’d he always end up in these messes? His hand was pressed against the hole in his gut and he was just… wishing that Cassandra had come with him. She’d needed to look after the new Seekers, though. He understood. It was selfish to want her to drop everything, but he rather thought he was allowed to be selfish in the privacy of his own mind while he was dying.

Not really the way he thought he’d end up going, either. Solas might have killed him, but this? Some random Venatori? This was just a sad way to go.

The Venatori was dead. It was a cold comfort, but he supposed there was some small pride to be had in that. The man had run Varric through, but Bianca had cored right through him. Fuck. Bianca. He supposed he should try to destroy the crossbow, wary of letting it fall into enemy hands, but he couldn’t bring himself to. Partly because he was exhausted on account of bleeding out, sure, but also because he couldn’t.

It didn’t hurt much, at least. He knew it should and it scared him that it didn’t, but at the same time he was grateful. If he had to go, at least he could go with some kind of peace.

He heard something and opened his eyes – when had they closed? – blearily watching someone approach. He figured it was another Venatori, but the armor didn’t quite make sense. But he couldn’t focus enough to figure out who it was, not until he crouched in front of him.

Bald, pointy ears, a gentle expression… “Solas?” He rasped, the other man smiling faintly and nodding.

“Shush, my friend.” He wanted to question that, wanted to protest. Who was Solas to be calling him friend, after having abandoned them all? But he didn’t have the strength to argue. Besides, it was kind of… nice. “Let me take care of you.” Sure, that sounded good.

Things were blurry, then, and if asked he wouldn’t have been able to say how much time had passed. All he knew was that he eventually opened his eyes and saw Solas seated cross-legged before him, looking somewhat drained but otherwise normal. Aside from his fucking armor. What kind of mage wore shit like that?

It took Varric too long to realize that his hand had been moved aside, that the hole in him had been patched. It still ached horribly, but it wasn’t bleeding anymore. “Am I…?”

“Going to live?” Solas finished for him, with that same, gentle smile. “Yes, Varric. You’ll go on to write many more books.”

“Hey, Solas?” The other man made a low, encouraging noise. “What the fuck?” For a moment there was absolute silence, then Solas laughed, bright and loud. Clearly Varric had startled him, but Solas had startled him right back. Shit. “Gonna give me a heart attack after all your work…” he grumbled, but he was smiling as Solas’ laughter slowly subsided. Eventually the other man settled down, his countenance becoming a little more somber.

“I can’t answer your questions, my friend.”

“I know,” he said, and he did. He knew how this was going to go. And he wasn’t really in any position to prevent it. “You’ll leave again, won’t you?” Solas nodded.

“And you need to stop pursuing me,” he insisted. “It’s too dangerous.” Varric snorted.

“Like letting you tear the world apart is safer? Sorry, Chuckles, but you’re stuck with me.” Solas sighed and Varric grinned, but he didn’t feel it. “Did you really think I’d just pack up and go home?”

“One must have hope…” he trailed off, apparently unable to keep up the back and forth. Or unwilling. “I do not wish for you to die, Varric. You should go back to Kirkwall, live your life in full. Stop pursuing me.”

“Not a chance.” Solas stared at him for long moments, then sighed again before rising.

“You’re healed enough. Rest for the day, you’ll be safe here. And please, reconsider. You will gain nothing by following me.” With that, he turned and left.

As soon as his footsteps faded, Varric levered himself upright with a grunt and followed.

[oldguy56-world]

Thank Heaven for Little Girls

We hosted a shower for one of our daughters on the weekend. It also included a reveal which is something new to this millennia and a first time attendance by me. After a buildup (but I at least got to eat before it happened) a balloon and two small cannons went off showering the hall with pink confetti. I am hoping that both the doctor and Party City got it right because I am not going to sweep up another mess like that again any time soon. I can only imagine how bad the mess would be if it were twins and it was a boy and a girl.

Back to the good news: we have a granddaughter on the way. This will give us one of each (through two different daughters) so any future babies coming our way will not be something different unless the aforementioned twins pop up. I do have some of those in the family.

It was a gala affair where I heard some of the stupidest questions possible.

Are you happy it is a girl (What idiot would say no?)

Now that you know it is a girl will you try for a boy next time? (Let this one be born first please. I do not think any expectant mother has 'next time' on her mind.)

Is there more shrimp? (Get away from me now)

There were people there that I hadn't seen since the couple got married five years ago so I had to do the old 'long time no see' without calling them by name. For the record I did know my wife's name, the daughters and son-in law and a couple of other random people so all in all I did pretty good.

(Side note. I am allergic to coconut and apparently everyone knows it. I asked what was in the one dessert I was eyeing up and a chorus of 'COCONUT' echoed in the hall. One of the women put me in a hammerlock and led me to a bowl of salad)

Here are some things you should know about having daughters.

They will not pee in your face when you change them. I am positive baby boys do it on purpose just because they can.

I told my son-in-law that having a daughter or daughters will help you lose your hair. He looked at my own bald pate and I saw a flash of terror in his eyes.

Since we found out a baby was on the way my wife always seems to steer me into children's wear so she could look at dresses and the possibility there would be a little girl to buy some for. I have an appointment with my financial advisor tomorrow to look at moving some money around to accommodate the upcoming expected expenditures.

I know this little girl will own my ass and there is nothing I can do about it. They live across the street from us so I expect to see her quite a lot.

I will have to buy my son-in-law a sword or Bowie knife. Not to use but they are very effective if you just happen to be sharpening one of them when a boy comes by to pick her up for their first date. You do not want to go the gun route in case your wife decides to test it on you.

This might sound sexist but I believe many girls are born with a shopping gene. This is something you cannot fight so go with it or move to a cabin in the woods with no internet.

That's all I will say about that.

THOUGHT OF THE WEEK: If you are going to teach your children anything make sure it includes respect, manners and politeness. It will set them apart from their peers.

[yourfelllowpothole]

Alison's Power | A The Crew Of Hope (OC) Story | CHAPTERS 1 + 2

Hello!

Sorry that I haven't posted in a while, I was busy with other stuff. This story is apart of a original three part literature series called: Alison's Wrath. I would like to publish the whole story in one post, but I don't want my text posts to be too long. So I will publish this story in parts, and update when I have the time.

Also, this story contains some themes of kidnapping and combat injuries (but no gore). So please read with caution if you are sensitive to that stuff.

Enjoy!

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Chapter 1

Kidnapped?

Darkness, pure darkness. That simple description was the only thing Hailey could slowly recognize when she awoke from her drowsy state of unconsciousness. She can barely remember what happened before she was here, but she does recall something about a ‘beach’. Wait, what was that again? Hailey feels so confused…

Hailey tries to squirm her body, attempting to get a feel of her empty surroundings. She can sense that she’s on a hard, wooden chair. And that there is something covering her eyes. A cloth perhaps? It smells heavily of sweat, gross. Just then, she hears a clunky staircase door open with force. “Ah, so you're finally awake.” A woman's voice is heard, approaching Hailey's position with small, hard steps. 

“Where am I!?” Hailey demands, fully conscious at this point. “Shh.. honey, no need to shout. No one will find you here.” The voice replies. Hailey can feel a cold hand on her shoulder. “My name is Alison Sherri. And you're in my basement.”. “What did you do to me!?” Hailey demands again, slightly quieter than before. Alison laughs. “You have a piece of cloth over your eyes, sweetie. And you're strapped to a chair. Can’t use telekinesis if you can see anything!” Alison laughs wickedly. (How did she know about my powers?) Hailey ponders to herself. But that’s not important right now, she just needs to get out of here. Alison is heard close to Hailey's ear “Just wait until your friends try to find you. Then the real fun begins.”

Hailey’s palms start to sweat. Hopefully this is all a dream…

5 Hours Ago: Dandron Beach

Splash! “Hey, watch it Chasey! I don’t wanna get my beautiful hair wet!” Jake reacts with slight annoyance. Chasey stands up in the sea water and laughs comically. “Oh knock it off! It’s just water. You're at the beach, enjoy yourself mate!” She replies. Jake forms an uncontrollable smirk on his face, and stands up as well. “Well.” He exclaims, “In that case, I bet ya won’t bother getting your little blonde pigtails soaked as well!” Jake forms a humongous splash in the water, which makes Chasey soaked from head to toe. She squeals intensely, and responds with an even bigger form of water. The two start to go at each other, honestly rather dramatically. 

It’s summer vacation in America, which means no school and good days in the sun. The teenage friend group has decided to spend the first few days of the holiday period at Dandron Beach, messing around in the water and enjoying themselves. And yes, summer vacation does mean extra superhero training back at The Beta Camp, but that’s not important right now. The teens are just trying to enjoy themselves while it lasts.  

Meanwhile, Max and Hailey are having ice cream on towels near the shore.

“How the hell do you like choc mint? It just tastes like toothpaste!” Hailey jokingly interrogates Max. Max gives her a comical look. “Well, how do you like cotton candy? Aren't you sixteen?” Hailey gives him a hard nudge in the hip, which accidentally makes Max’s ice cream fall off the cone. “HEY!” Max yells with serious irritation. This isn’t a joke anymore. “You owe me an ice cream now!” He exclaims, looking downwards at his now filthy piece of dessert. Hailey gets a stone in her stomach. “Alright, I’ll go get you a new one, prince.”

As Hailey paces up to the ice cream van, she ponders about everything that's happened since she started as a superhero. If Hailey had never been recruited as a hero and had never been injected with the superhuman serum, she probably would’ve never met the other teens in her crew. Hailey was honestly quite lonely before this year, so she’s grateful that she now has friends to call her own. Even if some can be irritating sometimes.

Hailey pulls out her wallet while walking. But as she acts, a mysterious person grabs her by the arm, closing their arms around Hailey’s torso. “Hey, what the he-” But Hailey’s speech is interrupted by a moist cloth smothering her mouth. It smells chemically and repulsive. Hailey tries to resist, but the compound overcomes her, and she slowly loses grip on her consciousness…  

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

Chapter 2

Snooping around (Plus some combat)

Current Time

Hailey’s palms are covered in sweat. She doesn’t know how long she’s been conscious for, but it feels like an hour, or two. “Damn it..” She mumbles. How can she use her telekinesis if she can’t see anything? Suddenly, Hailey has an idea. She may be blind in this situation. But learning from her training sessions back at The Beta Camp, she can try to feel the cloth in front of her, making it easier to identify and move. It’s a bonus add-on to her powers, apparently.  She concentrates intensely with strength. And slowly, the cloth unravels itself. Bingo! 

Now she can fully see her surroundings. Like ‘Alison’ said, it’s a dark concrete room, with broken shelves scattered all over the place. Hailey is now able to un-click the straps on her chair, making her finally free! “What now?” She whispers to herself. She needs to escape, fast. Her fellow superhero teammates are probably on the search as she thinks. Hailey scans the room, and notices a staircase leading to another room, and so she climbs.

—------

It's a normal house, suspiciously normal. Conveniently, the exit door is right next to the basement stairs. But as Hailey moves quickly, she ponders. (I wanna know who this lady is. It may be stupid to stick around, but I need to investigate. Just in case there are other hostages as well.) So she goes right of the exit, and sneaks through the noticeable hallway, being careful of Alison’s appearance. Slowly moving down the hallway, Hailey’s walk becomes more casual. She reaches a kitchenette, and finds something peculiar on the table. A large, dated photograph, containing a set of 30 adults in old fashioned lab clothing. The label on the photograph reads: Beta Camp Industries: 20 Year Anniversary. “What?” Hailey whispers to herself. If there is Beta Camp material here, there’s a very obvious chance that this: ‘Alison’ person may be a part of the facility. But why is she harming the superhuman subjects? Is this all just a surprise training test or something?

“Hailey!” A strong whisper is heard from the side hallway. Hailey turns, and finds Max in his superhero one-piece (But in this chapter we’ll just keep calling him Max). “Max!” The two teenagers collide in an enormous, tight, hug. “Are you ok? What happened!?” Max asks with concern. “The Beta Camp was able to locate you through the superhuman injection.” Hailey gazes at her still sweaty palms,  and responds “This lady called Alison drugged me with chloroform, and strapped me to a chair! But come, look at thi-”

“Well. well, well. Look who we have here! A superhero in shining armor!” Alison appears from the hallway, arms rested beside her. Max and Hailey assemble into fighting stances. Alison cackles with pride, and puts her hand in the air. “Alright. If you wanna battle, let’s dance!” 

Immediately, Max slams his fist into Alison’s chest. But to his shock, Alison levitates upwards and out of Max’s range. “Wha- How!?” He exclaims in awe. Hailey uses her telekinesis to lift many sharp knives, which fling to Alison’s direction and pierces her on the ear and shoulder. Alison winces, but still stands her ground. “I’ve had enough of this!” She cries with pain. Suddenly, She charges up a, what seems to be, purple and night black ball of evil matter in her palms, and fires it at Hailey’s direction. Hailey shields herself from the impact with her arms, but Max’s instincts make him step in front of the defenseless teen, making him take the impact.

Instantly, Max clutches his stomach in pain. Kneeling over with dazed eyes. Hailey takes a glance at the fatigued boy, but she’s too focused on not getting hurt herself by the enemy. (What on earth was that attack!? Has she had the superhuman serum?). “Enough! You're not hurting anyone anymore!” Hailey cries. She starts to control a dangerously large kitchen knife with her telekinesis, and throws it once more at Alison, this time hitting her in her right eye.

Alison howls in agony, dropping to the ground and clutching her injured eye. But she had one last attack in her hands. A large ball of dark matter, the same one as before. Alison smirks in a cunning way and finally states: “I’ll show those scientists what happens when you mess with me.”

But then, A spark erupts from behind Alison. Which makes her collapse from the impact, though still conscious. Hailey looks past the fatigued woman to see both Topaz (Chasey’s superhero identity) and Jasper (Jake’s superhero identity) standing with their powers in stance. “Hey guys!” Jasper jokingly greets the two. “You miss us?”

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Thanks for reading! I will update soon! - Your Average Pothole

[hlmowrer]

Week 93: A Child's Prayer

BACK TO BACK WEEKLY LETTERS BABY

I hope you're all so proud of me :)

This week definitely continued the theme of last week.  Most of you know that I've been kinda going through it the last few months, and while I've seen many miracles and blessings that show how much of an important and powerful time it's been I have definitely found myself praying for some respite.  This new transfer has been a very positive new beginning, you may remember the blessing of being able to attend the Temple and the miracle of Dustin's progress towards making his own sacred baptismal covenant with his Savior!

But this week, missionary life still being very demanding and me being a very weak mortal, I found myself once again on my knees praying that the Lord would grant me some internal peace.  I was pretty aware that the problem was my mindset and not anything actually happening, but I felt powerless to change it.  This was kinda coming to a fever pitch on Friday as I willed myself out of my apartment to go try and meet some people...in the pitch dark (thanks for nothing daylight savings...)

That night I met about 50 generally kind but also profoundly uninterested members of the Catholic faith, and we had a decent lesson with Dustin.  A fairly average night.  But going home I felt a sense of peace and confidence in my soul.  I felt joy as I understood that my prayer was being answered!

The next day had its difficulties but we were met with fantastic success, in an almost uncanny way!  We did well in a friendly competition with some other missionaries and actually had a lot of fun doing it, meeting so many interesting children of God along the way.  It was honestly almost hard to keep up.  For the second day in a row, I felt my burdens being lightened by the Savior.

And then it was Sunday.  I arrived at church to be reminded that it was time for the annual Primary program, an event where the children of the branch sing and talk about all they've learned about Jesus this year.  Hearing their pure first steps towards knowing their creator brought light to my soul!  One of the songs they sang was entitled "A Child's Prayer".

Heavenly Father, are you really there? 

And do you hear and answer ev’ry child’s prayer? 

Some say that heaven is far away, But I feel it close around me as I pray. 

Heavenly Father, I remember now 

Something that Jesus told disciples long ago: “Suffer the children to come to me.” 

Father, in prayer I’m coming now to thee

Though that song was surely written with the thought of a small child seeking to know if God loves them, I could not help but see myself in those words.  "I am a child of God" is a common thing to hear in church, but I fail to remember sometimes that Heavenly Father literally sees us this way.  He cares for us SO lovingly as we slowly but surely discover how to communicate, be clean, understand the need for rules and order, learn compassion, gain work ethic, and all other things which are good.  When we err, it diminishes His love and patience for us no more than a parent who's toddler has just knocked something off a table or forgotten to say thank you for a gift.  

So now, thinking that God had made His point to me, I merrily went on my way.  That night I was invited to visit some member friends of mine for dinner.  As we talked I found myself reassuring this sweet mother that her efforts to have a clean home, raise her sometimes unruly children in the Gospel, and keep a lid on her own mental health really were sufficient in the eyes of God, and it pained me that something so obvious to an outside observer was so hidden from her own view!

I then heard what I was saying...and realized it applied perfectly well to me too.  I'm trying.  I'm doing well enough.  Am I perfect?  Not even close.  But would any reasonable person say that I'm doing more or less okay in life?

Probably.

And you know what's cool about that, to all those of you who have read this far?

I'm not a special snowflake.  This applies to you too.

God loves you more than you know.

If you want to become more sure of this reality, find someone in your life that also happens to be forgetting that.  Tell them the truth.  God will help you listen to yourself talk as you speak truth in the service of others.

In the name of Jesus Christ I bear testimony of that, and I invite all who read this to test it.

I love you all so much, please write back and tell me how it goes!

-Elder Beren Mowrer

[jodilin65]

FRIDAY, NOVEMBER 30, 2007 Life in this little room is basically the same. Sometimes the noise is annoying, other times it’s quiet. Nothing utterly maddening so far, thank God. Same with the car stereos. They get annoying, but not as maddening as up in the Klam, the freezing, cold, snowy miserable Klam. It’s pretty cold here at night too, though.

We like the money all the overtime brings, but it sucks too, because he has so little free time to “horse around.”

Although I’ve been continuing to pray for the things we want and especially the things we need, God obviously isn’t going to let us have Satish’s house. Is He doing us a favor somehow? We’ll never know. I can’t believe, though, that He did us a favor by denying us the Citrus Heights apartment we initially tried to get into since it would’ve saved us a ton of money. Not unless one of those extremes we always seem to get (with the exception of Kim) would’ve been waiting next door for us.

The next prayer we hope He grants is letting the truck pass emissions. Tom got the part he needed today and also had the truck weighed. I have no idea why they require this. What, do they think the truck will break the roads? He has a permit to drive to the place on Monday after work. Let’s hope it passes! Tom thinks it will since the carburetor has improved. Before it was too smoky. Because of the California smog, they’re really picky about that.

I won 5 Playtex bras, but don’t know if I’ll receive them. I don’t even know if I’ll really like them that much since I prefer sports bras cuz of the way the straps of regular bras slip off my shoulders. It’s just that I can’t remember whose name I entered! I asked them but never heard back from them. Therefore, I went ahead and emailed back the form, assuming I entered in my name.

I heard from Mary, just to wish me a happy birthday and a happy holiday season. She says she’s doing well.

TUESDAY, NOVEMBER 27, 2007 Paula called and left a message yesterday evening and I called her right back. She sounded a little down, understandably, but was still her usual self at the same time.

She said she had to stay at a motel for a week before the housing people placed her where she is now, which she says she doesn’t like either. I guess the people below her get noisy. Getting a quiet place outside of an adult community is getting harder and harder to find. There are more and more rude people obsessed with getting attention, more dogs, more stereos, etc. We got someone next door last night who can’t sit still for long, so hopefully they’ll leave today.

Anyway, she said Justin’s been depressed, has dropped out of school now that he’s 16, and is spending most of his time shut up in his room. Her sister Brandy wants to get him a puppy. I hope for his sake he at least gets his GED.

They still don’t know who started the fire, but it was definitely arson. It happened in the middle of the night.

She said my old building on the corner of Locust and Woodside is gone, but when I checked via satellite, I found that it’s still there, but the building on the opposite corner is gone. The satellite pictures are never up to date, though, so it could be gone, too.

Her husband left her and is filing for divorce. She said his new girlfriend called her claiming to be pregnant, which she doesn’t believe (or want to believe). She also wonders if she’s in jail.

Whatever. That girl is forever cursed in that department!

Things are as bad in the East as in the West with those of color getting special treatment on the job. Jessie hadn’t gotten a promotion in the 5 years she’s been where she works. She told them she was going to leave and take a job that offered her 6 more Gs, even though the benefits wouldn’t be as good. That’s when they said they’d match that pay and give her a position as an analyst, but she has to wait till her position’s filled first. In other words, as soon as they find the perfect little black or Puerto Rican, she can finally move on.

I hope Tom can finally move on himself to second shift soon since they’re not going to hire him on or give him a raise. But he’d prefer second shift till he got something better (or the horses raced us rich) for the bonus and the fact that it’d free up some time during business hours. Like today he had to go in an hour early so he’d have time to play truck later on. He’s been searching for this part which he needs before he can take it to emissions.

I still worry that we’re just being teased yet again about having money and that the horseracing thing isn’t going to work out. He’s always getting “closer than ever,” but I haven’t seen any money yet. It’s not ready to be raced for real, though, and the question is when? When is it going to be ready? I really think we’re heading for an apartment and that we’re still not meant to live where we want to. I don’t think we ever will either. It hasn’t happened yet. That was a hell of a coincidence that the housing market changed right after I first spoke with Satish. Obviously, that would’ve been a hell of a house for us. Probably as close to perfect as we could get for being in the city.

Maybe Mary’s only half right. Maybe alienating God makes things worse, but praying really isn’t that helpful. At least not to Tom and me.

So Satish and others will live where they want and we’ll get into an apartment if we can ever get the truck taken care of first, and I’ll listen to their TVs and their stereos and their slamming doors and their pounding footsteps and whatever extremes are around us, but I’ll enjoy the security while I’m at it, cuz I’ll hate it too damn much to be evicted!

Then again, we may be forever trapped in this room. We may never ever make get out of here.

I saw Josephina and the Indian bitch both as Tom and I were returning from Carl’s Jr. the other day, but the bitch was smiling brightly and was just as polite, so maybe she really was just in a bad mood the last time she did this room which was quite a while ago. Josephina said she thought we moved. “Maybe some century,” I told her.

We’re on for housekeeping tomorrow. Hopefully, it’ll be Josephina or Thay.

For just $25, Tom got a computer stand and it really comes in handy in this little room. When he’s not using it, he stores it in the closet area. When he is, he wheels it over to the recliner. He always thought the chairs were so uncomfortable anyway, and having the stand frees up half the table space for eating and writing.

Since we’re doing better and since he thinks the horses are going to spit out money while I think we’re going to end up saving money in an apartment, I did a little incense order. I wanted to get some old IG favorites, but they still can’t get their shit together. I guess their main server crashed, so I ordered from Silksplash. I’m trying some newbies too, to add to the variety and make it more fun. I got 54 10-packs, 9 of them being newbies.

Later…

They’ve been banging on and off all day next door. Yeah, I figured they weren’t checking out today. They’re noisy, so why would they check out anytime soon? You know the noisy ones always stay. Usually, if they’re still noisy after 20 minutes or so, then that’s pretty much how they’re gonna be the entire time they’re around. That’s the pattern I’ve noticed anyway. The quiet ones stay quiet and the noisy ones stay noisy.

Satish still hasn’t come to tell me what I don’t want to hear, but he may never. Some people have a hard time saying “no” to others. And as Tom pointed out, he probably feels bad. It sure would be nice, though, if he could at least point us in some other direction, even if it wouldn’t be as ideal. God may’ve let us escape with our lives a couple of months ago, but that still doesn’t mean He’s ever going to let us go where we want to, and if He is, I have yet to see it. So I know I really need to start focusing on the good in having what I don’t want and being where I don’t want to be. How could I have to worry about ending up in an apartment like I have been if I’m already there?

SATURDAY, NOVEMBER 24, 2007 I did end up hearing from my folks after all. I guess I’m not surprised. It was a blank card written by Mom. She said she hopes we’re on the path to success and that she and Dad were married for 56 years. Tom and I must seem like a weekend fling in comparison! As she forgot to tell me, Boo and Max are also gone now. She wished me a happy birthday and us a happy holiday season and said to forget about paying them back and that the money was their gift to us, which was very nice of them. Also, she promises they won’t divulge our address to anyone.

I’ll probably give it till just after the new year then I’ll send another letter.

It’s been colder here. Still ok during the afternoons, but down in the 30s at night. It actually froze once or twice.

No one came to join Thay, the tall Asian housekeeper when she cleaned on Wednesday. She works nights at the casino we go to. I guess she’s a blackjack dealer. We went there early Thanksgiving morning but didn’t win shit.

Also, we still don’t know when he’ll have the giant file split into lots of tiny ones for the horses. He’s been trying to think of a way to speed things up. As I told him, though, as long as he’s still sure it’ll work, then speed isn’t as important. I don’t care if we have to play rental until we can own something, just as long as it’s not attached to others. That’s the problem, though. I still feel as if something’s trying to either trap us here in this room or steer us right back into an apartment or duplex. If we could find a duplex with garages between the two and without a shared yard, that should be pretty comparable to a tooth house.

Right now I just hope there won’t be any problems licensing the truck and that it’ll pass emissions ok. If not, that could be as bad as it crapping out altogether. But California’s tough on smog cuz of all the people and pollution here.

WEDNESDAY, NOVEMBER 21, 2007 The housekeeper, whoever she is, is next door right now. So someone was in that room last night and I slept through their arrival. They sure let me know it when they left today, though. And while they were packing earlier, too.

I hope the housekeeper isn’t that Indian bitch I’ve come to dislike, but whoever it is will be joined by someone else at some point which I hate because they distract the first housekeeper. They always seem to forget something and I have to check their work and ask for whatever they forgot. At least I’m here to catch whatever it is so Tom doesn’t have to make extra trips to the office.

Anyway, there are only 5 housekeepers here. So it’s gonna be either the tall Asian one, the short Asian one, this other really short one who may be Indian, the bitchy Indian, or Josephina. I hope it’s Josephina, but we’ll see.

I hit two instants in a row this morning. Coke and Pepsi have codes under their caps that you can input for prizes. I got a shirt and a DVD.

I’m also getting free books in our names, but slightly misspelled names, from a few clubs that give you some free books just for signing up. I used to do this like crazy when I lived on Oswego St. in Springfield. I can’t believe they set themselves up to be ripped off like this. But I also can’t believe I’ll get all the books, either. We’ll see.

Although it sucks that we won’t be getting Satish’s house and could be trapped here for still some time to come, it eases my mind to know that if the truck’s engine failed, we could now grab another junker for as little as $500. He’d probably still have to miss a few days of work to do it, so we hope we won’t have to and that the truck will hold out till we can get something better for around 5 grand.

I just peeked out and saw the tall Asian one going to lunch. She’s nice and I like the way she does the floor because she sweeps it first. I never heard her vacuum next door, so maybe she’s not even finished over there. I didn’t think it was Josephina or the bitch. They clean rather aggressively compared to both Asians.

TUESDAY, NOVEMBER 20, 2007 And so begins another day of alarms blaring, mowers whirring, doors slamming, and God knows what else around here.

I’m also beginning to wonder if we’re being teased yet again with money and a peaceful place to live. I mean, it’s a hell of a coincidence that the housing market had to change right as we were so close to getting what sounded so ideal. I should’ve known better, too. After all, it just sounded way too good to be true. When am I going to learn that I’m one of those who just aren’t meant to live where she wants to, and just settle for an apartment? An apartment would have blaring TVs and stereos and rowdy kids which aren’t a problem here (yet), but other than that I don’t see how an apartment could be much worse than this. So we may as well get it over with and learn to settle. An apartment would be the quickest, easiest thing to get into. Then maybe – just maybe – we can escape the chaos in 5 years when he’s 55. Of course, if the horses could just come through for us we could go just about anywhere, but I can’t believe that without seeing it first, despite how knowledgeable Tom is. It’s just that the poor guy only has so much time he can work on it.

So since Satish is obviously going to come back in a week or so just to tell me he won’t rent his house to us, we’re not sure what to do about a place. Tom said he should have a better idea of where the horses will take us by the end of the weekend after the latest kink has been ironed out.

If the horses don’t come through for us our only choices are going to be to either stay here, get an apartment, or try to find another house somewhere, but that would be so hard to do and would take so much more time than he has. Especially while he’s still on 1st shift.

At least Subway screwed up in our favor. Or Tom’s anyway since I don’t care for deli-type places. They accidentally sent two $10 gift cards when I was supposed to get just one, as far as I knew.

MONDAY, NOVEMBER 19, 2007 OLS is down right now for the upgrade I hope won’t fuck things up too bad. I made a point of backing up ‘my sweeps’ at the end of each day.

To give a general update, things are still going well. Our shower drain is clogged again for the second time since we’ve lived in this little room, thanks to my hair which now stretches just past the middle of my ass. So hopefully things will be even better when I call Satish up to fix it later on today. I’m hoping I can get a better timeframe from him as to when his house will be available. I’m going to at least get the street it’s on so I can check it out by satellite, even though the picture may be old.

With the horseracing program looking more promising than ever, we’re hoping all the more not to have to settle for a rowdy apartment until the money builds up enough to buy something somewhere, so it doesn’t make us act in haste. If we’re truly going to be given another chance to own something, we want to take our time and do it right. But living where I get woken up constantly and can’t hear myself think when I am awake would only make us desperate. It was our desperation to escape Phoenix that helped us make the poor choice we did in Maricopa, and our having to leave there in a hurry helped lead us to screw up in Oregon, too.

The programming has been going slowly but well, which is better than fast and bad. Tom said he doesn’t know why he didn’t think of this before, but he got the idea to split the files containing all the information about individual horses. When he had everything in one giant file and it would get confused for some reason, it would automatically insert a bunch of garbage which was too hard to weed out being such a huge file. Now he can debug things easier in the smaller files he’s creating. He thinks that if it can have a 50/50 accuracy rate while it was confused, it ought to be much better if it’s not nearly as confused. Of course, I don’t know what causes it to be confused in the first place or how it all works. I don’t know programming like he does, and wouldn’t write about it if I did. The fewer people that know about this, the more money it can make us.

As an influencer, the success he’s been having with the programming has got me racking up points like crazy at Netwinner cuz I’ve been more hopeful. I got a record 14,000 points yesterday. I also won a $100 Best Buy card in an instant. Tom pointed out that the reason I’m not winning as much is that the piddly wins are still going to Oregon since you usually don’t get your prizes for a few months after the sweep ends. At least we know they aren’t getting anything big at my expense since they notify you of big wins via phone or express mail.

Tom just got up to tell me there was a setback with the way the program communicates, but he should be able to get it ironed out. He should also have more time this week to work on it with my schedule being on days again, and with Thanksgiving giving him a day off.

The guy on the end did move out, and the rooms next to us were vacant all weekend and so it was wonderfully quiet. Someone in back got a little bangy at times, but that was about it, other than when they were cleaning on the end.

I got a letter from Mary who was as glad as I figured she’d be to hear that I finally got the message where God’s concerned. She also called my parents helping to save us a miracle. Yeah, but while I’ll be forever filled with profound gratitude towards them for rescuing us, miracle or not, I mostly hope they blow me off on my birthday.

I ended up renewing my Webshots membership after all. As pissed as I am that they went from giving us 4 new photos a day to 2, I do love all the cool pictures. Most of them anyway. I also like the storage space for my own pictures, plus there are a lot of cool community pictures as well.

The weekend before last I heard a bunch of sirens approach that cut out close by. I figured it was either an accident or a hold-up at one of the convenience stores. Then yesterday when we were on our way to Walmart, we saw a cross, flowers and notes attached to a utility pole at the Northgate intersection. After Tom looked it up, he found that a 28-year-old guy was killed instantly when his pickup hit the utility pole.

It was incredibly foggy yesterday, but at least it wasn’t snowing like where Jessie is, or down to 15º like it’s been getting at night where Liz is.

Later…

Satish fixed the clogged drain. Although he promised to let me know either way by the end of this month, I can already tell the answer’s going to be no. I don’t understand the housing market, so maybe you can make sense of what he told me. He said something about being undecided because his realtor said that the cost of houses is dropping, so he should hold out a bit longer. Yet he’s already in the process of buying this other house which he says is just 7 blocks away. So what’s he to hold out for?

I told him I didn’t mean to sound pushy and that I understood he had to do what he had to do, but explained to him that living in one room with most of our stuff stuck in storage and having the outrageous costs we have is rough. He seemed sympathetic, though I don’t know if that’ll change anything. Especially since he wouldn’t say what street it was on. Just that it was in Sacramento and off of Diablo. I didn’t think to ask if that was a street or avenue or what. When I checked the map I got a street and a drive. The houses and neighborhoods in both areas looked bigger and ritzier than where we lived in Phoenix. It sort of looked like Carmichael, yet they were also tooth houses. Without knowing exactly where his is, since lots of streets are off both Diablos which means devil, I can’t see if there are any exceptions space-wise.

The big question is where to go if he doesn’t come through for us. Do we try to find the time to get another house? An apartment, hoping it won’t be any worse than here? Stay here and maybe even jump into the end room if the horses really do work out? Either way, those horses have got to come through for us. They’ve got to. If they don’t we’re gonna be where we’ve been for years now – where we don’t want to be.

Hmmm… are the prayers really working as well as I thought they were?

WEDNESDAY, NOVEMBER 14, 2007 The guy on the end hasn’t left yet after all but plans to tomorrow. So after 10 long, but miserably interrupted hours of sleep like I had today, I’m sure I’ll get even less tomorrow and be tired as hell by the weekend. The inspector still has to come tomorrow or the next day, the housekeeper’s coming Thursday, and I’m sure the guy will let me know it when he moves out. I’m also sure the housekeeper will let me know it too, when she comes to clean, which will probably take quite a while as long as he’s been there.

I had opened the door to see how the weather was when he was coming up the stairs. I commented that we made it through the storm after all and was sorry to go begging for his help as I did. He smiled and said it was ok and that he was sorry he couldn’t help. Then he said something about not being able to make it here and going to live with relatives.

Fortunately, the quiet people on the other side are still here. They came in shortly after midnight. I heard a few subtle bumps and bangs, then nothing.

It sucks that Satish still hasn’t called, and Netwinner is late on sending me my cash card with $50 on it, saying that they’ve moved and all that and are oh-so busy. This is no excuse, and I’d like to move too, and so I could really use the damn money! We’ve agreed to have Netwinner be more or less the “furniture and appliance supplier” for now. The $50 that’s on its way is for the incense I got a while back, and the $50 I’ve got accumulated right now is waiting to be put on the card once it arrives. So I’ve got half a new microwave. Meanwhile, we still need a new hot/cold water dispenser and desks. Lower on our list of priorities are things like a new bed for him, a long dresser for me, shelves, and I really like these cool new digital photo frames they have now. They’re like portable screensavers, and of course you can use your own pictures to display. If we do have money again it’d be nice to send one to my folks, preloaded with pictures I’ve taken over the years, as well as Webshots photos.

My birthday coming up in a few weeks will be a good test as to where they stand. They’ll either send a card saying not to pay them back, or just send a card, or send nothing at all.

On the bright side, Tom’s been working like crazy and so we’re doing ok financially. The lady who had foot surgery isn’t returning for another week or so, so they can’t start 2nd shift till then.

For now, I have been praying every day for God to let Satish come through for us, along with his racing program. I also ask that He safeguard us from problems with our health, truck and money. If He hasn’t been keeping a fine ear tuned to my requests so far, then it’s a hell of a coincidence!

TUESDAY, NOVEMBER 13, 2007 Still no call from Satish, which sucks. Tom said he wouldn’t assume he’s not going to rent to us unless we don’t hear anything for 3 weeks, since he said a month or two.

I still fear we’re still not going to be allowed to live in a peaceful place and that we’ll get stuck in an apartment. This motel and an apartment may be better than the streets, but both are still bad enough. All I want are these 3 things: A peaceful place to live, a reliable vehicle, and 5 grand saved up for the emergency we hope to never have. Maybe there’s a chance we can get the last two.

I still intend to use our clogged shower drain as an excuse to lure Satish up here to see if I can see if he’s still serious and to get a better idea of when we could move into his house if he still is. If he doesn’t happen to be here that day, then I’ll have the office have him contact me in a couple more weeks if he hasn’t called us first.

I’m still not sleeping well when trying to sleep during the daytime. They failed their inspection so now I gotta deal with a repeat episode of that shit waking me up, along with the housekeeper, door slamming, plus all the other shit they do around here. The inspector will be here within the next few days.

I’m pretty sure the guy on the end is gone. Someone checked in on the other side and so far they’re wonderfully quiet. I’d rather quiet neighbors than no neighbors, since it couldn’t stay vacant on either side of us forever, and since having good neighbors keeps the bad ones away. But the good ones don’t last long, so I’m sure they’ll check out tomorrow. I didn’t hear any telltale drawers opening and closing.

Despite wanting out of this room so badly, Tom started coding his racing program again in a different way that seems to be working well so far. He thinks that by the end of the week, he’ll have a better idea of how effective it’ll be.

They’re talking about opening an email account for him at work, but he still doesn’t think they’re going to hire him on. He thinks they’re cheap and will keep him forever as a temp without ever giving him any raises for as long as he’s there. They do this so they don’t have to insure people.

FRIDAY, NOVEMBER 9, 2007 The lady who was out having foot surgery hasn’t returned to work, so Tom won’t be starting 2nd shift next Monday. He said it won’t make much difference either way. He’s still working tons of overtime and making tons of money. More so than in Oregon, but it doesn’t feel that way when all the money’s going to this damn motel! It’s like in Maricopa where we were rich, but we were broke, cuz all the money went to the house. Still, we’re in the position to pay for two weeks here for the first time ever, but we’re not going to.

I just wish I knew when we were leaving and where we were going! I’m sick of not knowing. This is the glorified version of being unsentenced inmates, we just have a fancy, more luxurious cell in which we’re free to come and go as we wait out our sentence.

At least Tom was right in saying he’d make more money faster if we came here rather than to Merced. I really thought he’d make shitty money for quite a while. Now if only he could be right about fine-tuning those horse numbers, too!

THURSDAY, NOVEMBER 8, 2007 There are these huge wild turkeys running around here, strangely enough. Tom said he’s seen them beating their heads in people’s cars. He’s seen dead turkeys and raccoons on the roads on the way to work early in the mornings.

Today we’re having our coldest day yet. It’s to be in the mid-60s all week. I’m surprised we’ll have the same lows in the 40s as we had when we were having highs in the 70s. At least it’s not going to drop to the 20s like it will in the Klam and where Jessie is tonight!

I had what felt like the start of a cold trying to grab me by the throat, so I burned it away with hot tea.

WEDNESDAY, NOVEMBER 7, 2007 And the annoyances go on! At least we’re not homeless, but even so, Netwinner’s having technical problems like crazy. Big changes bring big headaches. I’ll be going through that with OLS soon enough, too. Why can’t people leave things alone for more than 5 minutes?! Although I do love their multiplier. It’s what’s been upping my points like crazy lately.

It’s also been a zoo here in the mornings. They did the door on the end today. Hopefully, that’ll get him out of there more often. He seemed to be hanging around more often because as I’ve noticed before, he obviously doesn’t want anyone in the room when he’s not there, and he must’ve known they were coming soon. He hasn’t been “noisy,” but I’ve heard things that do get a bit annoying at times. The main annoyances are still all the damn door slamming. That’s 95% of what I hear around here.

It was a zoo this morning from 6:30 - 11:30 but has been dead quiet ever since. Wish it could be that way all the time!

I was stressing out again cuz the truck leaked some water yesterday. Tom epoxied it but wasn’t sure how it would hold up. I started getting all paranoid again, wondering if our being close to death as we were a month ago was actually to prepare us for having to kill ourselves for real. It’s just scary to know that if something craps out with the truck that we couldn’t afford to fix, we’re totally screwed and as good as dead. We’d be like cars without gas, and without gas, you simply can’t function. Whoever said money isn’t everything is a fool. Being rich isn’t everything, but having money for the necessities is definitely everything or else you can’t live.

Oh, to have peace and security! Why are those two simple requests such an impossible dream? Just a peaceful place with two vehicles and 5 grand saved up for emergencies, and if he ever did get the luxury of working for himself before he retired, then we could have just one vehicle to go with the peaceful place and the 5 grand.

Tom might start 2nd shift on Monday. He says he won’t be working as much overtime, but with the 5% bonus, it won’t make much difference pay-wise. He’s been working an incredible amount of overtime to get us into a place if we don’t get into Satish’s house. I just don’t know if it’ll be someone else’s house or that dreaded apartment. Not that Satish is lying, but what he told me sounded too good to be true. At least for us personally. It just sounds too much like what we want, and we’re not in the habit of getting what we want when it comes to where we live.

I was surprised there was nothing but junk at the mail place when he stopped today after work. I’ve been sweeping more and more, but you’d never know it. I’m surprised there was nothing from Mary, and still surprised there was nothing from my folks, either, if only to tell me not to bother to pay them back. Maybe they really are hurting financially, although $500 is a lot to shell out for someone when you’re hurting. Tom thinks they’re just waiting till we get settled. I think either something came up or they’ve decided that returning to silence is better, something we can agree on for once.

SUNDAY, NOVEMBER 4, 2007 Today’s annoyance was one of the housekeepers taking a broom and swatting spider webs outside the rooms. And of course this meant swatting the doors and windows as well. It’s a good thing I wasn’t asleep, although I don’t expect to sleep well tomorrow. The guy on the end is on for cleaning tomorrow, someone’s below us, and we have new people next to us who also aren’t going anywhere too soon. I could tell by the drawers I heard opening and closing. People don’t usually fill dressers if they plan to turn around and take off in a day or two.

Oh, how I hope Satish comes through for us!

Jessie said her house is a small two-bedroom house built in 1930. She said she really likes not having a nosy landlady knocking on her window every time she walks by. I’ll bet!

SATURDAY, NOVEMBER 3, 2007 God, they just can’t take a day off around here to save their lives! It’s so typical of apartments and motels of the West, too. Always gotta be mowing, blowing, painting, cleaning, etc. Even if it doesn’t need it. I guess they wouldn’t feel like a real Western motel if they took a day off to sit on their asses and do nothing.

I just hope Satish comes through for us and that the place is as good as it sounds!

I’m glad we haven’t had to go camping so far. I not only hate to camp, but to me, it’s just a fancy state of homelessness, and well, glorified vagabonds are nothing we need to be.

Our worst fears of losing everything like we nearly did happened to Paula, I was dismayed to read. She sent a letter about a week ago saying that in late August her apartment building burned down. She said they thought it was the neighbor, but didn’t say if they thought it was arson or not. Then the place got looted afterward. I tried to find information online about it, but couldn’t. She said her son was taking it really hard, that he cut himself, is threatening suicide, and so she may have him committed. She said all the dolls I sent got burned, but she did manage to salvage her wedding dress. On top of all this, she had a staph infection under her arm and misses her husband. She’s now in a new apartment which I guess is also in Chicopee. I wonder where she stayed until she could move into the new place. She says she’s on the second floor and that the landlords live on the first.

Both Tom and I feel bad for her and her son. That really sucks to lose your stuff to a fire, or to anything. I remember her telling me she wouldn’t move to Florida for fear of losing everything to a hurricane, too. I’ll be adding her to my prayers.

She also lost the bracelet I won and sent her because it was so her in shades of green and frost white. I’m going to one day surprise her with not only some porcelain dolls I’ve been sick of for quite some time but with a necklace she’d no doubt love with jades and clear beads.

Fortunately for us, we’ve been doing much better. I ended up getting over 10,000 points on Netwinner a few days ago, and next week he’s going to be getting a $600 check with all the overtime they’ve had him doing. If things could continue to go well with the truck and we could get into Satish’s house and find it to be all he says it is, then we couldn’t get much better than that! That’d be one hell of a stark contrast to how hopelessly miserable we were a month ago.

He doubts they’ll hire him on when he’s been there 3 months on the 14th because all the people that started off as temps say it takes 18 months to get hired on, and all they got were little piddly raises along the way. I’ve been uninsured long enough, and he doesn’t think this place has much potential for him, so as soon as we get settled somewhere and he can get a new birth certificate, he’s going to look for something better.

FRIDAY, NOVEMBER 2, 2007 To say that October came in like a lion and went out like a lamb is an understatement! I’m so excited that I can barely compose my thoughts in order to write! I think I know why I had that 50K dream! Nothing’s etched in stone yet, but given the dream, the fact that Susie was only wrong once, and knowing Satish, the maintenance guy from the beautiful Fiji Islands, it sure seems quite promising. Especially since Satish isn’t “thinking” about buying a new house, but is buying one. There’s also the fact that I never vibed us being here in ’08, and haven’t had dreams where we were actually living in an apartment. This pretty much stamps out any remaining doubts I may’ve had as to whether or not prayer works, too! And did God do us a favor in denying us that Citrus Heights apartment? Yup! Especially if this works out, and if it does, there’d also be no doubt that this is the best motel!

Just when I thought he’d totally forgotten, Satish came to do the door a few minutes after I got up just before 11:00. We made small talk as usual and at one point I casually mentioned that we were looking to rent a house, preferably in the Roseville/Rocklin area. This is when he asked how much we were willing to pay. I said that, of course, the less the better, and that while we’d prefer to pay around $800-$900, we knew we may have to pay over $1000. I explained we were looking to rent from an individual we knew since management companies can be a problem, and since we’d absolutely hate to end up in an apartment. He said he’s never lived in an apartment and would never want to with all the noise, lack of privacy, vehicle worries, etc. He also agreed that no matter how good you leave an apartment you’re moving out of, they always rip you off.

So it turns out that he has a 3-bedroom, 2-bath house that’s about 1300 square feet heading towards Roseville in a beautiful neighborhood that he says is quiet. He says the house isn’t set too close to others, and that he hates those tooth houses, too. He said the only reason he bought another house was that he wanted a bigger place with a bigger yard. He said it’s an early 80s house. Brand spanking new compared to the 40s dump in the Klam.

He asked if we were looking to rent long-term, and I assured him we were. I told him the idea was to buy a house in a retirement community when Tom’s 55 in 5 years, but that until then we were hoping to find an affordable, peaceful house.

I told him Tom worked at Comtek and he knew where that was. I pointed out that since he’s new here and is only making $10 an hour, and I’m home entering contests, we couldn’t afford anything too expensive, and were in the process of saving up for a place since we figured the person would want deposits and all that. He said he wasn’t worried about deposits, and that he’ll call us once he’s worked out exactly what his own payments are going to be with his loan officer. He doubts it’ll be over $1000 a month, though, and said something about throwing in a few hundred himself, if possible. Also, two months would be the most it could take, but it would more than likely be one month.

To think that I not only saved us by calling my folks but that I may get us home too is a way awesome feeling! Maybe I’m not so worthless after all.

[bibookmerm]

content notes: long post, personal life, strained family relationships, bad choices?? (neglecting self care, seeing people that are bad for me), thanksgiving, but positive stuff at the end.

Life update!

I've been ill all month, still not recovered because I am working despite my illness. (first of the "bad choices"). So, that's fun. I tried to chill and drink tea today. I've had a week off because my workplaces are closed on thanksgiving day, I get 1 designated weekend off which was last weekend, second job slashed hours, and it just lined up that way. At least for this little break, I've done pretty good with the house cleaning goals I set, but not overdoing it. That's something!

THE HEAVY STUFF:

I am trying to emotionally prepare myself for thanksgiving day. Going to visit the extended family. Every time I see my family, I feel stressed, sad, and hurt. I'm really on edge the whole time, then I come home exhausted and I fall apart. Or go numb. So seeing them is the second of the "bad choices." But this year, my wife and I are driving ourselves, so we can leave when we want to. Yay agency!

I'd really like to find a way forward navigating family pressures and obligations and all of my feelings on it with a professional. I liked my past therapist a lot, but I thought her advice about family was...incomplete, and didn't quite fit my situation. I'm hoping to feel comfortable plainly saying when I'd like to look at other options or from a new angle, with my next therapist. But for now, I am going to "celebrate" the holiday I loathe with the people who do not understand me, again. I'm going to try to be kind to myself throughout the day and afterward, even though going at all is not very kind to myself. My friend said his house is open for people to hang out on thursday, so I think going there instead of straight home will cheer me up.

Idk, I posted about my cousin's wedding back in July, and being the only queer there without my wife and no one to even acknowledge how hard it was on me, how disconnected I felt, was part of what made it suck so bad. I am going to reach out to folks this time instead of keeping it in.

So yeah, this time of year is rough. I generally feel I have to trudge through a bunch of stuff I hate when all I want to do is curl up and hibernate until February. I am at least Making Good Choices in small ways. Hydrating, eating, folding the laundry, going for walks, reaching out to friends. Listening to sad music but not ONLY listening to sad music and shutting the world out. It's a process! I think I am staying more, um, recovery minded than backsliding? Overall. Mental health wise. I'm really trying!

Also, this is very obvious but when transphobia gets you down, listening to music by trans artists helps 1000%. It's so healing. I'm gonna have my playlist at the ready.

THE BRIGHT SIDE:

I have some creative project ideas cooking. Still working on that one story I mentioned a while back! The multiverse one. I'm learning more about the inciting incident in the story and I like how it's developing.

I also made some preliminary sketches tonight for a zine I want to make. Just a cute little fan zine. I have a lot of zine making pals but this will be my first one!

Also! Today I just heard back about the date for session 0 for a TTRPG with cool new friends. I can't wait to try roleplaying again. I'm gonna look into the mechanics of the system before then so I don't feel lost and I can focus on having fun.

Also, after all the thanksgiving day nonsense...on Saturday, I get to see my amazing friend who is visiting from the other side of the country. They're having a party which I'm sure will be amazing. And next tuesday my friends and I are going to the movies. So. thursday is one crummy day, I will survive it, and there is the warmth of friendship on the other side. I got this. Have a great evening, y'all.

[vivalgi]

I finally finished The Phantom Agent! I'm gonna try to write down my impressions and hopefully make up a somewhat coherent review. I played with male MC and and romanced female agent Gray, so it's going to be from MLW perspective. TL;DR version at the end.

When I first started reading TPA, I was quite intrigued - an action-adventure book with a confident seasoned spy as a main character. Seems like a perfect recipe for a simple man like me. The further I kept reading though, the more the book began to fall apart sadly.

Firstly, I'd like to start with the strongest aspect about the book for me which was the dynamic between the MC and his new partner, agent Samara Gray. We got a masculine leaning MC and a more feminine LI which is a rarity. Even in the game's dialogue files their default pronouns reflected that intention. So I have to thank PB for daring to try it out. I think it worked quite well and I've not managed to find anyone complaining that the MC acted too masculine or the LI too girly, like we, the guys, usually like to whine 🙊. So, I really do hope that however the book itself performed, it won't discourage PB from trying this in future books to change up things a little, even if it's just a casual romance story more oriented towards female readers.

Gray started off ice cold towards MC based on what she'd heard of him, so it seemed like a fun challenge to make her warm up to MC. I enjoyed the constant witty banter between them and that Samara always managed to fire back with her razor sharp tongue. The angst when they began catching feelings for each other was also quite pleasing. Of course, it's another single LI book where you can never fully escape the romance, so for those who don't like Gray it would feel like a chore to read through TPA.

Vivian was also a fun character. As a team member who always followed us on our mission, it seemed like a missed opportunity to turn her into an LI as well. She probably would have been more sidelined but still a great alternative for those who didn't feel the chemistry with agent Gray. When was the last time we got a nerdy weirdo LI anyway, especially a male or GOC one?

However, that's kind of where the positive stuff mostly ends. When I first heard the book's title, I imagined a serious and gritty spy book. A "phantom agent" sounds like a rogue spy who's been framed for a crime they didn't commit and now has to clean their name in a high stakes cat and mouse game. Unfortunately, TPA turned out to be more like a mix between the campiest James Bond movies and the later Fast and Furious movies. On steroids. It was so silly and weird, it sounded like the writers were trying to fit in every imaginable spy story cliché. I almost thought it was a parody like Austin Powers or Johnny English but the book tried to take itself too seriously for that comparison.

My biggest gripe were the action scenes. PB has never been good at writing that stuff but in a book that's all about fighting and chasing bad guys, it really stood out like a sore thumb. There was some silly physics defying action like MC turning around a motorcycle and keeping it moving in reverse or Gray using a falling billboard as a ramp. Then there's fighting scenes where the main characters always had time to run towards heavily armed enemies as if time had stopped. Like those stupid robots near the end who were pointing guns at us and had been tasked to kill us but for some reason they allowed us to run to them and easily knock them out. This all came off as a lack of care from the writers' side. It was weird that MC almost always preferred hand to hand combat, preferring to knock out his enemies instead of using firearms. I guess our spy didn't have the license to kill. It's not like this was a family friendly book preventing to write a main character who wouldn't shy away from shooting a bad guy's brains out (damn, now I miss the gore from WTD). Near the end I didn't even bother buying extra action scenes and just wanted to get over with that part.

Besides the usual action, I wasn't the biggest fan of the overreliance on otherworldly and futuristic tech. As a kid I always eagerly looked forward to Q showing Bond cool gadgets but I've long grown out of it. In this day and age when everyone can learn to create CGI robots at home, it's difficult to be amazed by this stuff. And while Vivian is cool as a character, her inventions played a too important role in my opinion, often acting as deus ex machina to save us from another sticky situation.

At first I was glad like most of us that we'd gotten a professional MC who's great at what they do for a change not another young and stupid rookie. Sadly, I was a bit disappointed by the end. He was supposed to be a seasoned spy, hardened by dozens of life threatening missions, yet during the story he was often stupidly clumsy, short sighted and forgetful of his surroundings, letting enemies to easily best him, one moment of which I talked about in a separate post. I guess he's another victim of writers making MCs do stupid things for the sake of the plot because they don't know other ways to make plot move, in the end ruining the immersion which is very important for interactive fiction.

When it comes to the big bad of TPA then the Architect wasn't the worst one PB has come out with lately (though the bar is extremely low). However, the way he's portrayed is too reliant on players buying diamond scenes to learn more about his character. Without them he'd probably be another one dimensional hateful villain. You really need to buy the extra scenes for him become more multifaceted, even almost compassionate because his backstory really is a sad one. He's still too much of a text book supervillain with a heart of ice and a hunger for world domination but that paywalled information adds some important depth to the Architect's character.

Let's also not forget every supervillain's compulsory sidekick, which in this book was the Contractor or should I say our dead but not actually dead (how original, right) ex-partner Rowan Salazar. I'm very conflicted about her character. She was supposed to be our MC's love of life, yet the story did nothing to make us love her more and when it was time for the "big" reveal, she acted all cold and cocky like she had never loved our character, as if it had all been stupid lie. Her character arc feels very underdeveloped. The story should have given us many glimpses to their past romance to make us feel more compassion towards Rowan, or reignite the love. Like with Vivian, it would have been another great opportunity for a romance path, a one more a kin to enemies to lovers. However, while the players have practically no chance to get to know her, we're forced to watch how MC is still weak for this seemingly despicable and unredeemable stranger and they kiss and we're given a chance to hook up. *Sigh* whatever, let's give the superficial horndogs a chance to screw another hot sprite, because 💎💎💎.

While we're at the topic of pounding sexy pixels then, like every proper Bond movie, our MC was also given chances to hook up with side characters. The first one, with nurse Lou, came out of nowhere, the proposition was like an intro from a p0rn movie. I prefer a longer build up and that's where hook-up with Alexis really shined. The wait and anticipation through the two chapters totally paid off. And like agent Gray, these two fling partners also seemed to be written in a more feminine way.

All in all, TPS was a book with great potential but ultimately didn't live up to the hype and fell a bit flat. The action was silly and over the top, lacking the sense of urgency and high stakes. The MC wasn't quite as competent as a seasoned spy should be. The enemies weren't the worst but still left a lot to be desired. The book still had plenty of fun moments to keep me invested but I wish it had been more like Mission Impossible and less like a parody on campy James Bond movies. For me the story was mostly reliant on the relationship with agent Gray who I quickly grew very fond of and I could say that despite TPS's shortcomings, my dear Samara definitely earns a spot among my favourite LIs.

[genhernandez]

Hey, look! It's GENEVIEVE HERNANDEZ. Did you know they WORK as a LAWYER at LEGAL LIGHTHOUSE ? I guess they're from NEW YORK CITY, NEW YORK and have been in town for TWELVE MONTHS , living in HAWTHORNE HIDEAWAY. I also heard they're a little HARDHEADED, but also very GRACEFUL which definitely makes sense.

Born in the "city that never sleeps" to District Attorney Andre Hamilton and renowned stage actress, Eileen Debose, there was no doubt in the world that their little Genevieve would grow up to be anything less than 'ordinary'. Contrary to the stereotype place on those living in the dual-arenas of politics and the arts, Genevieve couldn't have asked for a more picture-perfect childhood. With no other siblings in tow, she was very easily the apple of her parents' eyes, especially her father's who always saw her as his perfect equal. The pair were inseparable, always going on trips together and sharing too many inside jokes, much to the amusement of the rest of the family.

It wasn't until Andre was let go from his esteemed position, after a string of scandals and allegations, that things weren't as idyllic as they first appeared. Turning to the only solace he could find; a bottle of aged whiskey or two, the Hamilton patriarch was a shadow of his former, doting self. The vocal battles between Genevieve's parents seemed to become a part of their almost daily routine. The fights always ended the same — with her father, regretting the venom in his words and promising to be better and her mother, tired and weary, vowing to leave. Months passed until it wasn't hard for the littlest Hamilton to feel like the loneliest girl in the world, immediately jumping into her studies as a means to escape.

College gave her a means to both hide away from the world and learn about it. She would spend most of her collegiate hours stalking the library's vast, spreading shelves in the hopes of somehow outdoing her father's legacy as well as dulling the darkness his downfall had caused. It was on a dreary Tuesday afternoon and on her usual quest, Genevieve tripped and fell, quite literally, head over heels for someone who looked unusually out of place amongst the law books of Honoré and Dickens. Shaking hands, he introduced himself as Cristian Hernandez.

With his cool, calm exterior, Genevieve was immediately entranced by his surprisingly gentle demeanour. To her, his outward features juxtaposed those inside, to her, he was exactly what she needed. Piece by piece, he collected her, he made her see her worth and seemed to love every inch of her and they were intoxicatingly happy. Naturally with this new and exciting plans for the happy couple; marriage, babies, careers. Months passed before the young moved into a small, shoebox-sized apartment, Genevieve could make peace with her decision of falling so hard and fast in love and she had to quickly as without a word as another wrench would be thrown into the works.

Sure enough, there came a call from her mother, her voice barely above a whisper and her tone mournful. It was her father. Despite his best efforts to make amends and cut back on the drinking for his family, it was his heart that finally betrayed the rest of his body and her mother found him in his favourite armchair, having passed away in his sleep.

Since her father's funeral, it seemed as if her life had changed forever. She had never felt alone yet so together with her family and Cristian by her side. They'd come through so much together, good and bad, and she was sure he was 'the One'. So it wasn't much of a surprise to anyone when wedding bells sounded and she could finally take his last name.

Before arriving in the picture-perfect town, Genevieve and Cristian had tried everything to finally achieve their goal of becoming parents and raising a family of their own, with no success until the couple decided to take things easier and not think about it for a little while. Sure enough, those little pink lines gave them everything they could possibly imagine and they were soon blessed with a beautiful baby boy, Samuel. Four years later, and completely surprised once again they were lucky enough to become parents again to another son, little Marcelino.

With her career flourishing and her family thriving, Genevieve couldn't ask for a happier, more picturesque town for her boys to grow up in. Though she can't mistake the feeling of wanting to expand their brood a little further, perhaps with a little girl like herself, who is the apple of her father's eye.