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chr0macide · 1 year ago

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Break In 2: The Novelette (Fanfic)

PART 1

got damn I finally finished this. Writers block was wilding on my ass so I hope this didn't turn out like shit lol. I drew a lil bit of art for this fanfic (I say "drew" but a lot of it is just textures from google edited together into a picture lmao). Just 3 pics but yeah I got bored and wanted to draw. Might make a separate post for them sometime so people who don't wanna read or scroll through this can see them.

I recommend reading part 1, there are some references and callbacks that you might not get if you haven't read it already.

Again if you see any grammar/spelling errors please tell me. don't let me just leave that shit in because that's hella embarrassing 🙃

oh also for those who don’t know, the premise of this fanfic is basically just me turning the game into a short story

TW implied sexual violence (not involving any main characters, relatively short section, but its there)

This one is about 16,000 words, alright lets do this

Chapter I – Unsafe Haven

A fork of lightning illuminated the woods as Prince drove down the trail at a snail’s pace. The deluge was so heavy that it was almost impossible to see through the windshield, even with the wipers on. He brought the car to a standstill and let the engine idle.

“We’re gonna have to wait the storm out,” Prince told the kids. “Can’t keep driving like this.”

Stephanie kicked the back of Prince’s seat. “Worst camping trip ever,” she grumbled with her tiny voice.

“Relax. We’ll get there,” the elder brother said, but the truth was that he may or may not have taken a wrong turn through the thick fog.

It had been almost a year since the four kids had butted heads with their not-so-friendly neighborhood mafia. Well, three kids and one adult; Prince had turned 18 a few months ago. They’d been holed up in their house for too long, paranoid that Larry and his mobsters might show up for a little payback. It didn’t help that there had been a string of missing person reports in the area. To their dismay, their own uncle had disappeared, not to mention that the mob boss himself had vanished soon after they’d deactivated him. He hadn’t been sighted since, though, so Prince and Monica thought an outing would help take their minds off of everything.

They had everything they needed. The weather report had been favorable, yet rain was battering their windows. Prince folded his arms as he heard another clash of thunder. His boredom was replaced with panic as the subsequent flash of lightning struck the tree closest to them.

“Everyone out! Now!” he yelled as the trunk splintered and started to topple towards them. The kids tumbled out of the car and ran off as the tree smashed into the hood. The car alarm screamed.

“Could this trip get any worse?” Monica huffed as she walked around their totaled coupé. She popped the trunk and rummaged around inside.

Prince reached out and pulled her away. “Monica, wait, the engine-”

He was cut off as the crushed engine spat out a plume of smoke and exploded.

The kids stared at their flaming car.

“Shit,” said Hadrian.

Prince sighed. “Yeah.”

They looked around. They thought they’d reach the campsite early in the evening, but the storm had stalled them for so long that night had already come. Prince could hardly see the path ahead of them. “You didn’t happen to pull a flashlight out of there before it blew up, right?” he asked Monica.

Monica looked at the first aid kit she’d rescued. “No.”

“Damn. Well… we shouldn’t just stand around, I guess. Come on,” Prince said to the others. They climbed over the fallen tree and set off down the trail on foot.

The muddy path squelched under their shoes and thorns snagged their clothes as they trudged forward. Prince knew they should hurry, but shrubs and tree roots obscured by the shadows threatened to trip them up and send them face first into the dirt if they walked too fast.

Prince pulled out his cellphone as they moved, grumbling in frustration as the rain impaired the touchscreen. He tried to dial emergency services. No signal. He almost bumped into a traffic barricade in front of him while he was shoving the phone back into his damp pocket. “The hell? What is this doing here?”

He felt Monica tug on his sleeve.

“Do you see that?” Monica asked, pointing into the trees. It took Prince a few seconds to figure out what she was talking about, but he spied a yellow light blinking in the distance.

“What is it?” he wondered.

“I don’t know… but look.” Monica gestured downwards. There was a gravel path leading away from the barricaded trail. It looked like they’d be taking a detour.

“Let’s see if there’s a building there,” Monica suggested. Prince was apprehensive about veering off the main path, but he had no clue how far the campground was, if they were even going in the right direction. Maybe this was a better option. He and the other kids followed her.

It didn’t take long for them to reach the origin of the light. Steel walls stretched into the trees. The faint beams of moonlight that made it through the leaves glinted on the razor wire resting atop the fortifications.

A control panel was affixed to the wall next to the heavy-duty vertical lift door. There was the light source: a yellow diode, flashing on and off in the dark.

Prince peered through the doorway. It was already open. “What is this? A military base?”

Monica knitted her brow. “Maybe, but why would they leave the door like this?”

“I don’t see anyone.” The place gave him an unpleasant feeling in the pit of his stomach, but it was freezing, and his clothes were soaked all the way through. He stepped inside.

The dwelling had evidently been abandoned for a long time. One ceiling light persevered, shining weakly in the darkness. The floor was littered with trash and a sticky layer of dust coated the tiles. Corroded storage lockers lined one of the walls. The other was plastered with crappy graffiti.

Prince didn’t see anyone else. He beckoned the others inside. However, right as the last kid stepped through, there was another flash of lightning. The panel next to the door sparked and short circuited. Everyone flinched as the door slammed down with a loud bang.

“What the hell!” Prince exclaimed as he turned around. He gave the door a kick. It didn’t budge. The unlocking mechanism had failed. He tried tinkering with the control panel, but all he got was an electric shock. “Ow.”

Prince knew he wasn’t about to break through solid metal. The kids glanced around the room nervously. “Look for another way out,” Prince told everyone.

There was only one other door on the opposite wall. Monica made her way over and gently pushed it open, but it was just a stairwell leading even deeper down into the building. She shook her head at Prince. “Nothing here.”

Hadrian started to open the old lockers, searching for something that might be useful. He grimaced as he came upon one that wasn’t empty.

“Guys. Look,” Hadrian called out. The others crowded around. It was an all too familiar comedy mask that they’d hoped they would never have to see again. “I don’t think we’re in a military base.”

Prince’s stomach churned at the thought of running into Larry a second time. If he was uneasy before, he was on high alert now. In fact, he was so anxious that he nearly leapt out of his skin when something prodded the back of his leg.

The dog whined and sprang away as well before it ran away and cowered beneath a rotting wooden table. Its fur was patchy and matted. Muddy water was still dripping from it, but it looked like it might have been white underneath all that grime. It must have taken refuge here from the torrential downpour too before they arrived.

“A doggie!” Stephanie squealed in delight. She ran to pet it, but it growled and barked at her when she got close. “Mean doggie,” she pouted.

Prince paid no more attention to the dog. If there was a chance that there were gangsters prowling, he and the kids had to arm themselves. He didn’t see anything of use except a broken rack with a few rusty crowbars on it. He picked one up.

“Guess these will have to do.”

He tossed a couple to Monica and Hadrian.

“Hold up, you want us to go further inside?” Hadrian questioned as he caught the weapon.

“You got a better idea?”

Hadrian looked at the metal door, locked tight. “No,” he mumbled.

The group stood at the stairs. It was pitch black. A sense of déjà vu crept over Prince; it reminded him of the creepy basement back in his house. He dug through his pocket for his lighter and flicked it on, casting enough light down the steps for them to descend. The dog padded after them, though it still recoiled as Stephanie tried to touch it again.

They reached the base of the stairwell. Iron bars lined the walls on either side of them. It was some sort of jail. Prince thought the cells were all empty until someone stood up in the one right next to him.

Everyone yelped in alarm at the figure. Prince held his crowbar up defensively, even though the man was caged, but he looked familiar. He held his lighter up to illuminate his face.

“Uncle Pete?” Prince said, bewildered.

Pete waved. He grabbed the whiteboard attached to his belt. Hi Prince! Open the cell? he wrote.

“But I don’t have the key… oh, wait,” Prince said as he remembered that he was holding a crowbar. He jammed it in between the lock and the doorframe and broke the gate open. “But how did you get here?”

Mafia wanted some of my properties. Locked me up here alone when I wouldn’t transfer ownership, Pete scrawled as he stepped out of the cell.

“Oh, man. We were really worried,” Prince said as everyone wrapped Pete up in a group hug. “Wait a second. Does that mean there are mobsters nearby?”

No. Upper levels of the base are abandoned. Everyone is in lower levels.

Prince’s brow furrowed. Pete looked at him quizzically.

“The entrance malfunctioned. We can’t get out the way we came in,” Prince explained. Pete looked pensive now.

Only other way out is elevator on lowest level. Leads to south exit. Don’t know exactly where it is, but we would have to keep going down. Pete pointed at the other end of the jailhouse. More stairs. They were going to be seeing a lot of those.

The last thing Prince wanted to do was to delve into a criminal hideout, but they didn’t have any other choice. “How deep before we start running into mobsters?” he asked Pete as they walked to the staircase and descended further.

Pretty deep. Not sure about the exact level. I don’t th

Pete stopped writing as they reached the next area and looked around warily. It was some kind of common area, just as derelict as the previous rooms, but something felt off. Prince squinted through the dim lighting. The coffee table was caked with dust, but one handprint-shaped patch was clean.

Someone was in there with them.

Chapter II – Hackerman

Monica guarded herself with her first aid kit as a masked mafioso stood up from behind the couch and swung his crowbar at her. The plastic case cracked, but she retaliated with a jab to his gut with her own weapon. He clutched his abdomen in pain as Monica brought her weapon down on his head, knocking him out.

The guy wasn’t alone. Four of his buddies emerged from hiding while Monica was fending off the first, and they rushed the kids all at once. Pete hastily grabbed the crowbar that the downed mobster had dropped. He attacked one who was coming up on Prince’s side. He and Hadrian were kept busy by a couple of other mafiosos from the front. There was a brief scuffle before Pete managed to land a headshot and knock him unconscious as well.

Hadrian tried to lunge at one of his attackers, but the mobster hooked his crowbar around Hadrian’s own weapon and yanked it out of his hands. With nothing to defend himself, all he could do was shield his face with his arms. There was a crunch as the mobster’s crowbar met his forearm. He cried out in pain. “Fuck! Not again!”

The group withdrew further into the room as the remaining mobsters closed in on them. As their aggressors engaged them again, Prince fumbled and dropped his still-burning lighter amidst the chaos. The dust on the plush carpet ignited instantly. A blockade of smoke and fire materialized surprisingly quickly between him and the mafiosos.

“Come on!” urged Prince retreated through the next door. The dog darted ahead of him, spooked by the flames. Pete and the kids followed, but the mobsters had to fall back to the jailhouse to escape the inferno. It had been a quick fight, but Prince was shaking from the adrenaline. He turned to Pete.

“You said the upper levels were abandoned!”

Pete shrugged his shoulders and shook his head cluelessly. They are! I don’t know what they’re doing here, he wrote.

The blaze cast a flickering orange glow into the hallway they’d ended up in. At least this place looked empty. Monica made Hadrian sit on the ground and started fixing a splint to his arm. He sighed in defeat. They’d only just got here, and he was already out of the fight.

Prince cautiously opened the door next to them. A janitorial closet. He’d lost his lighter in the last room. They weren’t going to be able to see a thing once they left the fire behind, so he went inside and investigated the shelves.

He picked up a flashlight and brushed the dust off. “Lucky us.”

“See if it turns on first,” said Monica skeptically.

Prince flipped the switch. He smacked the flashlight into the palm of his hand a few times when it didn’t turn on. Nothing happened. “Damn it.”

He shoved the flashlight under his coat. Maybe they would come across some batteries later. As Monica finished patching up Hadrian’s arm, the group continued to the elevator on the other end of the hallway. Prince pushed the call button. “I don’t suppose this thing will take us out of here?”

Pete shook his head as the doors slid open. The control panel only contained deeper floors. His finger hovered over the button that would take them the lowest. They didn’t know precisely how far down the inhabited levels were, and he didn’t want to be jumped again as soon as the elevator reopened. He decided to select one of the higher ones. Better safe than sorry, Prince thought.

They said nothing as the elevator closed and took them downwards. They couldn’t see anything except the red LED display above the door. The floor number ticked into the negatives until it ground to a halt unexpectedly.

“Hold up. That’s not the level I chose,” Prince whispered. He could hear everyone shifting around in the dark as they prepared for the worst.

The doors opened. The person outside the elevator screamed and fumbled with his phone, almost dropping it. He clearly hadn’t been expecting to see anyone. Prince had his crowbar at the ready, but the guy was clad in a hoodie and jeans instead of one of the tailored suits that the mob usually wore.

“Uh… hi,” said Prince.

“Hey? You guys don’t look like mobsters,” the young man replied as he straightened his sunglasses.

“You don’t, either.”

“’Cause I’m not. What are you doing here if you aren’t one of them?” the stranger asked shiftily.

Prince shrugged. “We ran in here during a thunderstorm. Door malfunctioned. Now we’re trapped.”

The stranger buried his hands in his dark hair. “Are you fucking kidding me? The north exit is jammed? I snuck all the way up here for nothing!”

“You’re sneaking out? Were you a prisoner?” Monica probed.

“Ugh. Yeah, yeah, I was,” mumbled the man, who was now pacing around outside the elevator. “Name’s Helios-”

Hadrian snickered. Helios shot him a look.

“What? It’s a code name! I work for the government. I’m not supposed to tell people my real one.”

Hadrian rolled his eyes. “Sure, dude. Whatever.”

“OK, Helios… why were they keeping you down here?” asked Prince.

“I got abducted during the killing purge last year. They’ve been making me work for them. I’m a hacker,” Helios explained. “I managed to slip away from my station a while ago. They went batshit looking for me. It was a nightmare getting up here, and now I have to go all the way back down,” he groaned.

“Really? So you know where the south exit is,” Prince surmised.

Helios held up his phone. “Yeah. I got a blueprint of this place.” He stepped into the elevator with them, but he pursed his lips when he saw which level they had been heading towards. “Nah. That’s the first populated level. The guards would’ve rocked your shit. Get outta this thing,” he urged, gesturing for them to follow him into the floor they were at: a computer room. Most of the computers were powered off and missing keyboards, save for one, which had been plugged into one of the power outlets. Helios must have been using it.

“Any chance you can fix the door upstairs? I think it short circuited,” Monica inquired.

“No shot. I’m a hacker. Not an electrician. But like I said, I know exactly where the south exit is,” Helios responded. The group looked at his phone as he pulled up his map of the base. He marked the spot where the exit was. This place had a lot more floors than Prince had expected.

“This is going to suck,” he murmured.

“Tell me about it. We gotta go on foot, too, ‘cause this elevator won’t take us to the right place,” said Helios as he beckoned them out of the computer lab.

The corridors here were tight and winding. Their footsteps echoed through the metal walls, rough with oxidization and lined with rusty pipes. Stagnant water still dripped from some of them.

Prince grew anxious as he followed Helios. They’d been walking for a while without reaching any stairs or elevators. “Helios, where are you taking us? We’re still on the same floor,” he questioned.

“Relax. We’re making a pit stop,” Helios replied, waving Prince’s concern away.

“Dude, we don’t have time-“

Helios shushed him. They were in front of a door with a round window. Prince peered over Helios’s shoulder to see inside. He’d taken them to a kitchen, and Prince realized that they did, in fact, need to eat.

“How do you know there’s still food in here?” he asked the hacker.

Helios shushed him again. “I came here while I was on the way to the top level. Lower your damn voice. There’s someone inside,” he hissed.

Prince took a closer look through the round window. The oven was on. There was a mobster leaning against the countertop, facing away from them. Only one. “What is that guy doing all the way up here?” he whispered.

“No idea, but he’s alone. Just go bonk him,” Helios encouraged.

Prince moved forward Helios stepped out of the way. He put a hand on the door and gradually eased it open. Thankfully, the hinges didn’t squeak, so he crept inside until he was right behind the mafioso. Prince raised his crowbar.

The door clicked shut. The mobster whirled around at the noise. Prince faltered. His mouth hung open slightly in disbelief as he recognized the mafioso.

“Isaiah?”

Isaiah was scrambling for his own crowbar, but he paused when he heard his name. “Prince?”

Prince let his arm fall to his side. “What the actual shit? You’re still working for the mob?” he exclaimed.

“Why the hell are you in the base?” Isaiah blurted out in an equally baffled tone.

The door creaked as Helios edged it open. “Prince? You good?”

Hadrian pushed him out of the way with his good arm. “Nice to see a familiar face,” he said.

Isaiah looked even more confounded as Pete and the kids emerged. “Seriously, what are you doing here?”

Prince was beginning to get tired of recounting that. “There’s a storm outside. Ran in here. North entrance short circuited. Stuck. Explain why you’re here,” he demanded.

“Because I work here, dumbass,” Isaiah snapped. “You can’t just leave the mafia. They hunt deserters down… not to mention that I got fired from Builder Brothers. The owner found out I had ties to the mob, and now this is the only job I can get,” he muttered bitterly.

Prince scowled, but he supposed Isaiah had a point. “OK, I get it, but why is Larry still letting you work here? You helped us deactivate him.”

“He’s not in charge anymore. Haven’t seen him since that sewer brawl, actually. Someone else took over his duties,” Isaiah revealed.

Prince’s eyebrows shot up. “But a bunch of mobsters ran off with his body. It was on the news. They must have reactivated him, right?”

“Nope. He didn’t show up here, as far as I know. No idea what happened to him.”

The kids glanced at each other uneasily. “Who’s in charge now, then?” said Prince.

“Never met her, but her name is Mary Gearwise.”

“Gearwise? Let me guess, another automaton? Where are all these killer robots coming from?”

Isaiah shrugged. “Don’t ask me. I’m just a grunt… wait, aren’t you the hacker that escaped a while ago?” he realized, pointing at Helios.

The hacker looked at him warily. “Maybe. Your friend isn’t gonna turn me in, right?” he asked Prince.

“I ain’t no snitch,” laughed Isaiah.

“Then will you help us get out of the base?” Prince implored.

Isaiah’s smile faded. “Man, do you have any idea what they’ll do to me if I get caught with you guys?”

“Come on, at least help us until we start running into goons. You can wear your mask. They won’t know who you are.”

The mobster picked up his mask from the counter. He mulled Prince’s words over as he looked at it. “I guess so.”

The oven dinged. “On a lighter note… pizza’s done.” Isaiah grabbed an old mitt and pulled the serving board out and placed it on the countertop.

Prince had forgotten about the oven. “Why the hell are you making a pizza all the way up here?” Helios questioned incredulously, gesturing around at the soiled kitchen.

Isiah scratched his neck. “I got hungry, and I didn’t wanna share it with the other guys, OK? So I took a frozen pizza up here.”

“You were gonna eat a whole pizza?”

“Shut up. You guys can have some if you want. You probably aren’t gonna get your hands on food again until you make it out of here,” Isaiah told everyone.

As they ate, the dog nudged the door open with his nose and squeezed through. He’d stayed outside, but it seemed that the smell of cooking had enticed him. Stephanie held out a slice of pizza and tried to coax him closer. The dog gingerly took the slice in his mouth and devoured it ravenously.

Stephanie giggled. The dog let her pet him this time. She read the name tag on his collar. “Twado!” she squeaked. Twado wagged his tail.

The dog chewed on the empty pizza box as Isaiah looked at his watch. He pulled a flashlight out from under his jacket. “We gotta go. I better get you guys out of here while most of the base is asleep,” he said as he motioned for the group to follow him.

They reached a crossroad after a while. “Dude, the map says the closest stairwell is that way,” Helios contested, jabbing a thumb at the right passageway as Isaiah turned left.

“Your map is old. We never update those things. I know a short-”

Isaiah stopped talking mid-sentence as a rusty pipe on the ceiling ruptured in front of him. Scalding hot water hissed as it splashed against the cold metal floor and turned to steam. He didn’t fancy third-degree burns. “Damn. Guess we’re taking the long way around.”

They trailed through the narrow corridors behind the mobster in silence until Prince’s soles started to get sore. Too many stairs, but they eventually ran into a door.

Isaiah reached for the handle. “I think—SHIT!”

He jerked his hand back as the pipe next to the door burst as well, but it wasn’t water that erupted. Isaiah ripped his glove off and threw it to the ground as the substance ate through it.

“What the hell is that?” Price exclaimed.

“It’s the stuff we poured into the sewers last purge. Thought we shut off all the valves already. I need to quit coming up here,” muttered the mafioso. “Nevermind. There’s another way in this room.” He turned to the door on the opposite wall and pushed it open.

They were in an old dormitory. The entrance to the stairwell was on the other side of the room. “As I was saying, I think the next level down is… uh…”

Isaiah stopped in the middle of the room and went silent. He looked up at the entresol. More than a few doors were slightly ajar.

“Isaiah? Something wrong?” Prince whispered.

“The doors were shut last time I was here,” he whispered back.

It was another ambush. The mafiosos threw the dormitory doors open and jumped down from the entresol. Prince cried out as one of them landed on him. He lost his weapon as he wrestled on the floor with the aggressor and grunted in pain when he felt something sharp pierce his side. Twado ran over and clamped his fangs around the mafioso’s leg.

Isaiah hurriedly pulled his mask over his face as more mobsters jumped down and confronted him.

“Is that you, Isa-”

He silenced his colleague with a crowbar to the face before he could get his name out. The other two elected to simply charge at him and Helios without any pleasantries. He dropped his flashlight as they clashed.

Prince felt around for his crowbar in the dark as Twado dragged his attacker away. He heard a yelp Monica clocked the mobster on the head.

Pete stood in front of Hadrian and Stephanie as two more advanced on them. They laughed as they brandished their weapons. “Why don’t you put that crowbar down before you hurt yourself, old man?” one of them snickered. Hadrian covered his sister’s eyes.

Prince found his weapon as his eyes adjusted to the darkness. He looked over at his uncle as one mobster seized his crowbar while the other delivered a strike to his head, but they turned around as he and Monica came up behind them. Prince tore the blade out of his side and drove it into one of the unsuspecting mobsters’ eyes. She screamed and reeled as Monica aimed a blow at the other mafioso, who sidestepped the hit, but now Prince was coming at him as well.

The mobster made a dash for the stairs, only to run into Isaiah. The two mobsters who’d been accosting him lay in a pile. Isaiah promptly sliced his associate’s throat open using a switchblade of his own. He clutched at the wound and gasped for air, but he could only cough and choke on his blood.

Isaiah scowled beneath his mask at all the noise his victim was making and shut him up with a sharp blow to the skull. He crumpled to the ground, still wheezing and spluttering while unconscious.

That was the last of them. Hadrian picked up Pete’s fallen sunglasses for him. He put them back on as Monica pulled Prince’s bloodied coat off.

“How bad is it?” Prince asked.

Monica grabbed the flashlight from the ground at held it up to inspect Prince’s wound. “Well, since you’re still standing, it’s probably not that deep. I’d put you on bed rest, but…”

She didn’t bother finishing. There was no time for bed rest in this place, of course. There was nothing she could do except clean it and stitch it up.

“They were waiting for us. How did they know you were here?” Isaiah wondered.

Prince shrugged. “We were attacked earlier as well on one of the top levels. I don’t suppose you have security cameras around here?”

“No. Not since…” Isaiah gestured at Helios.

“I knocked them offline while I was trying to escape,” the hacker said. “I know for a fact they’re still down. They couldn’t have seen you.”

Isaiah paced around the dormitory wordlessly as Monica sutured Prince’s wound shut, deep in thought. He sighed and shook his head. “I don’t know what’s going on. We have to-”

He stopped talking as the mobster next to him stirred. There was a crunch as Isaiah stomped on his neck, killing him. Everyone else winced.

“What the hell, Isaiah? That’s not necessary,” Prince admonished.

“Yes, it was. He saw my face earlier. I told you I’m fucked if one of these assholes reports me.”

“He was already unconscious!”

Isaiah got up in Prince’s face, but Helios interrupted their spat before he could say anything. “You two better start getting along, ‘cause we need to make a plan,” he said as he nudged Isaiah away and planted himself between them. He gestured all around at the fallen mafiosos. “We’re gonna be running into plenty of these guys when we reach the bottom of those stairs.”

“Oh. Right. That’s what I was trying to tell you guys earlier. It’s a good thing we ended up in here, actually,” Isaiah said as he disappeared into one of the dorms. They heard him rooting around inside until he came out with a bunch of suits and masks slung over his shoulder, a little faded with age, but still wearable. He dumped them in a pile on the ground. “Ol’ reliable. Everyone put one of these things on.”

Prince pulled a duffel bag out of the pile while he was looking for something his size. “What’s this for?”

“That’s for Twado,” said Isaiah.

Twado gave him the side-eye.

“Hey, don’t look at me like that. The boss doesn’t allow dogs in here. You’ll blow our cover if anyone sees you.”

The dog allowed Isaiah to lower him into the bag, but then the group encountered the same problem as last time. Stephanie was sticking out like a sore thumb.

“Maybe we can hide her in the middle of the group again?” Prince suggested.

Isaiah shook his head. “It’s not gonna work. The hallways aren’t wide enough.”

The mafioso drummed his fingers on the strap of the duffel bag. Nobody else was offering up any ideas.

“I know what we can do,” he spoke hesitantly. Everyone looked at him.

Prince blinked. “Well? Spit it out.”

Isaiah held up a hand. “Don’t get mad at me for it.”

Prince’s eyes narrowed.

“First of all, this base is part of a sex trafficking ring,” said Isaiah.

“You better not be about to say any dumb shit.”

Isaiah held up both hands now. “Just listen! We pretend,” he continued, enunciating the ‘pretend’ very clearly, “that Stephanie is one of the girls we abducted—”

“You guys take little girls for that?” Hadrian admonished.

“Look, man, I just work in the canteen. This place didn’t even have a human trafficking branch when I got here. As I was saying, we pretend she’s a…”

Isaiah trailed off as Prince stared daggers.

“Prisoner,” the mobster said slowly. When the elder brother didn’t throttle him, he kept talking. “The shortest path to the exit involves one of the, uh, filming areas, so that’ll be her excuse to be there.”

Helios looked at his blueprint. “He’s right. There’s gonna be another elevator at the end of the filming area’s hallway.” He zoomed in on the location.

Isaiah leaned over to inspect the map as well. “We can ride it to that detention level and act like we’re taking her to a holding cell,” he said as he pointed out a floor below the filming area, “but we can veer away towards the west edge of the base. That place is as deserted as the upper levels. We’ll make our way through there until we reach the lowest level. After that… it gets more difficult.”

“No kidding,” Helios agreed. “That’s where the boss lives. The whole floor is teeming with goons, but the ventilation shafts that far underground are so big that we can fit through them. So, we sneak over to where the elevator is. Get out of the vents while nobody’s looking. Ride it all the way up to the south exit. No sweat,” he schemed as he drew a path with his finger from their location to the exit.

Prince still looked vaguely pissed off, but he nodded. “OK. Fine. Sounds like a plan.”

Chapter III – Incident Report

Prince squinted as his troupe reached the bottom of the stairwell. The fluorescent lights were harsh on his eyes after they’d wandered around in the dark for hours. He scrunched up his face in revulsion as the smell hit him. The filming area reeked of stale sweat and perhaps other fluids that he preferred not to think about.

“There,” Isaiah whispered to Prince, pointing at the elevator on the other end of the corridor. “Hold onto Stephanie and walk in front of us.”

Prince took Stephanie gently by the hand and followed Isaiah down the corridor.

They were alone at first, but Prince was startled as a door next to them opened. A pair of mobsters shoved a girl into the hall with nothing but a worn-out blanket around her shoulders. She stared through Prince with dead eyes as the mafiosos forced her onwards.

The two groups didn’t speak as they passed each other, but one of the mafiosos brushed a lock of dark hair out of Stephanie’s face and leered at her with yellowed teeth as he strolled by. Prince’s hand tightened around his crowbar until his knuckles were white.

Time felt like it was passing agonizingly slowly as they walked. Prince’s face darkened as they passed another door. He could hear the sounds of a struggle inside. A scream pierced the air. He came to a halt as he unwillingly recalled the purge he’d endured. He felt a hand on his shoulder and glanced back at Isaiah. His face was concealed, but Prince could tell the mobster was stone-faced from his eyes. So was his family, staring back at him through their masks. The sight was unnerving, even though he knew it was only them.

“Keep going. There’s nothing you can do for her now,” whispered Isaiah.

Prince turned stiffly and continued on their path.

There were no more disturbances. They made it to the elevator without any resistance. Isaiah punched in the access code and pressed the button for the detention level.

Helios sighed deeply as the doors closed. “That was unpleasant.”

Nobody was in the mood to respond.

Isaiah spoke up as they neared their destination floor. “We have to get the Warden to open the entrance for us. There’s a one-way exit in the holding area that leads to the west edge. No one is allowed to use it, but the cams are off, so who cares. Just let me do the talking. And one more thing: the audio feed is still running, so keep quiet until we get out of there,” he told everyone as the elevator reopened. The mafioso took the lead this time.

The Warden was resting his elbow on the desk with his face in his palm. He’d been looking at his reflection in his dimmed computer screen as he styled his fiery orange mohawk with a free hand, but his lidded eyes followed Isaiah as he approached. He stared at the newcomers, uninterested in initiating a conversation with them.

“Markus. New inmate,” Isaiah said.

Markus turned his eyes to the computer on his table. “The boss didn’t tell me of any new arrivals today,” he replied flatly.

“We haven’t notified her about this one yet. You’re the first to know. Good for you. Open up,” demanded Isaiah.

The Warden lifted his head from his hand. He narrowed his eyes again, now in skepticism instead of tiredness. Prince put himself in front of Hadrian, hopefully obscuring the boy’s splint. “Why did a little girl need five people escorting her here?”

“What the hell am I being interrogated for? This is the rest of my patrol group. We just got back. Quit wasting my time and open the fucking door,” Isaiah snapped.

Markus sighed. “Whatever. Cell 047,” he told the mobster as he stood up. The guy was even taller than Isaiah, Prince realized, and he was wide enough that he had to leave his too-small tuxedo jacket unbuttoned. He entered a string of numbers into the keypad next to the entrance. The blast door screeched open. “Get out of my face,” said the Warden as he waved them inside.

Prince looked straight ahead. Whatever was behind all the steel doors lining the passageway, he didn’t want to see. Markus closed the entrance behind them as they walked away.

Everyone did as Isaiah had said and kept silent until they reached the exit. A lone spider was busy spinning a web on the doorframe. Tough luck for him. The door squealed as Isaiah opened it and beckoned everyone through.

“Alright, we’re in the clear,” he said after he shut the exit.

The concrete corridor ahead looked strangely sterile at first, but a thin film of dust had settled on the ground upon closer inspection. Nobody had been here in a while.

“Where are we?” Prince asked.

Isaiah took off his mask and looked back at him as they made their way through the hall. “It used to be the chem sector when Larry was in charge. Miss Gearwise decommissioned it after she took over. She’s more interested in biotech and cybernetics, apparently. Most of her stuff is on the bottom floor, though.”

Prince peered through the windowpanes in the doors as Isaiah let Twado out of the duffel bag. Glassware and machinery were set up on the tables as if the users had left in a hurry. Binders full of notes and documents were still open on the desks. Even the lights were still on.

“Looks like she couldn’t wait to shut this place down,” Prince remarked.

Isaiah didn’t look at him now. He just shrugged.

Prince wished the mafioso would talk a little more, because the silence here was even more eerie than it had been in the derelict upper levels. The laboratory looked too clean and orderly. It felt wrong for it to be deserted. He was almost glad when the blindingly white walls gave way to rough stone and steel floors as they moved yet deeper into the base.

They were surrounded by a mess of tubing and shafts as they walked. There were no walls here at all to hide the plumbing and ventilation systems.

“Where are we now?” Prince wondered out loud.

“Still in the chem lab. Larry wasn’t one for frills. He didn’t bother with dressing the place up when he expanded it downwards,” Isaiah answered.

“You know a lot about that guy. Didn’t you only know him for a few days before we took him out?” Hadrian remarked. Isaiah shot him a glare over his shoulder, but not before Monica elbowed her little brother. The last thing they needed was to piss their guide off, even if he might be keeping secrets.

The mobster’s dark irises looked black in the low lighting. “You know I hate it when people ask too many questions, right? I hear the other mafiosos talking about him sometimes, is all,” he claimed as he turned away.

Maybe it was for the best that he and the rest of the group didn’t talk much. The sound of dripping water and air flowing through the vents suited Prince just fine now, but after a while, his ears picked up something that was neither of those. Thumping? It wasn’t quite loud enough for him to tell.

“Do you guys hear that?”

Isaiah paused. “Hear what?”

They all listened, but whatever noise Prince heard had stopped now. “Nevermind. It’s gone.”

Isaiah pursed his lips in annoyance at the interruption and continued forward. Prince didn’t notice any more strange sounds, and he’d started to think he’d been imagining it until he heard it again, much louder this time. Everyone stopped in their tracks and looked up. The rusted ventilation panel above them was starting to buckle. “Get back!” Isaiah whispered harshly.

The old screws snapped apart and the vent gave way. Out tumbled a stout man in a trench coat. He grunted in discomfort as he landed in a heap in front of the group. He scrambled to his feet after he glanced up and realized he wasn’t alone, but his panic was short-lived as he beheld the bizarre caravan in front of him. They stared back, equally perplexed. The guy looked like he’d been ripped straight out of a generic mystery film.

Isaiah had pulled his mask over his face once more, but he cautiously removed it again when he saw that it wasn’t one of his own associates who had shown up. “Who the hell are you?”

The man hesitated, seemingly reluctant to reveal that, but Pete pushed his way to the front of the gathering. The stranger’s face lit up.

“Peter! It’s been too long!” he exclaimed as he slapped his hand on Pete’s shoulder. “But what are you doing here?”

Pete scribbled a few sentences on his whiteboard. Kidnapped. My nieces and nephews are trapped here as well. North exit broke down. Looking for the other one.

“The north exit malfunctioned? How odd,” the stranger pondered.

Pete turned back towards the group and wrote again.

“Detective Bradley Beans,” Prince read out loud.

Bradley snapped out of his musings. “Hm? Oh, yes, that’s me. I was assigned to spy on the mob’s activities here. I’ve been using the ventilation system to stay out of sight, but…”

He eyed the broken vent.

“Perhaps I ought to lose a few pounds. Very fortunate that I was in the west edge.” Bradley picked his fallen umbrella up from the ground. “Anyway, Pete here was a coworker of mine before he retired. Good to see you again, old man,” said the Detective, patting the old man on the back.

“Wow. How long have you been hiding here?” Prince asked.

“Almost a year. I arrived soon after the last purge. I heard all about your battle with Mr. Clockturn. Very remarkable, though I wish the national guard would have moved in a bit quicker… kids shouldn’t have to wrangle crime lords,” grumbled Bradley, shaking his head. His gaze shifted to Isaiah. “Who is your, er, companion?”

“This is Isaiah. He helped us during the purge. And now he’s helping us find our way out of here,” Prince explained.

“I see. Well, there’s no use in dallying here, then. I was actually on my way out as well. Care to lead the way, Isaiah?” Bradley invited, motioning for the mobster to go on ahead of him. He did.

Maybe he shouldn’t pry, but Prince was curious. “So… you’ve been investigating the mob? What did you see?” he asked as they walked.

The Detective’s face grew serious. “One of the reasons I was sent here was to find out what happened to Mr. Clockturn after his body was taken. I already had a hunch that Miss Gearwise had a hand in his disappearance. The evidence I’ve compiled confirmed it. He’s in here somewhere.”

Trepidation rippled through the group.

“I haven’t seen him, but I overheard the personnel in the cybernetics sector speaking of him. The papers I managed to nick suggest Miss Gearwise has been performing experiments on him, and it doesn’t seem that he’s a willing participant.”

“What kind of experiments?” Prince questioned.

Bradley’s brow was crumpled in worry. “The documents didn’t detail their nature or purpose, I’m afraid. I went looking for some that did, but I came up empty handed… Miss Gearwise has put a lot of effort into keeping her activities secret. I suspect he’s being held in the bottommost level, but it was too risky to go poking around there.”

Hadrian rolled his eyes. “Sucks to be him, but what is he? Who is making these freaks?”

Bradley opened his mouth to answer, but then he frowned, stopping himself. “It’s classified info. I assure you that law enforcement has it handled.”

There was a door in their way, but it refused to open when Isaiah put his hand on the push bar. Prince looked at the keypad next to it. “Please tell me you know the code.”

“No need for that.” Isaiah dug through his pocket for his keycard and inserted it into the side of the pad. The door unlocked with a click, and he shoved it open with unneeded force. The mobster had been quiet, but Prince observed that he was becoming more and more vexed as Bradley recounted his findings. Cops and gangsters weren’t exactly friends, of course, but he thought Isaiah’s reactions were still a little over the top.

Isaiah went ahead, but everyone else was reluctant to enter the new area. A metal bridge was suspended over a wide pool of roiling red liquid.

Prince stepped onto the crossing uncertainly. The fumes stung his eyes. “Isaiah? What is that?”

The mafioso turned around. “This is where we made the chemical we emptied into the sewers.” His shoes clanked softly against the bridge’s metal lattices as he continued across. “We’ll be fine. Just don’t fall in,” he reminded Prince. He seemed pretty sure of himself, so everybody followed.

They heard heavy footsteps approaching long before they could reach the other side. Isaiah redonned his mask. “This is the worst possible time.” He looked back at the door they’d entered from.

The Warden’s huge shadow approached. He kicked the entrance open and stepped onto the bridge, followed closely by four of his pals. “I knew you guys were up to some bullshit,” he muttered as he motioned for the other mafiosos to charge.

Markus looked like he could drop all of them on his own, but Prince knew they wouldn’t make it to the exit before their assailants reached them. His fist clenched around his weapon. He might be able to shove the big guy off the bridge if he was deft enough…

Isaiah had different plans. He jammed his crowbar through a joint in the bridge and gritted his teeth as he strained to pry the two sections apart. Realizing what the mobster was doing, Prince knelt down to help out. They jumped back as soon as they heard the rusty screws break.

Markus held out his arm to stop his cronies from going any further. The bridge section in front of him slanted dangerously towards the corrosive liquid far below.

The Warden shook his head. “Back up. I have a better idea,” he said as he ushered the other mobsters back into the hallway.

Isaiah’s eyes widened. “MOVE!” he shouted as he bolted towards the exit.

Too slow. The lock engaged right before he touched the door. He punched it in frustration. “Damn it!” he roared as an alarm bell rang through the chamber.

“Isaiah? What does that mean?” Prince asked as the hazard lights on the walls blinked on. He looked at Monica as she tapped his shoulder and saw that she was staring at the red liquid under them. It was rising. He looked up at Isaiah again.

“The doors seal automatically when someone brings the liquid level up.” Isaiah pointed at the console attached to the wall. “We have to reactivate the drawdown system, but I don’t know the passcode,” he explained hastily.

Prince’s gaze darted between Isaiah and the keypad. “Won’t your keycard work?”

“Fucking look, man! There’s no slot for the keycard here!”

Helios pushed him out of the way. “Let me see what I can do,” he said as he fished a USB drive out of his sling bag and inserted it into one of the console’s ports. Prince heard him typing as fast as he could while the caustic chemicals hissed and simmered against the bridge’s supports.

“Uh, Isaiah? Aren’t the beams corrosion resistant?” Hadrian asked, his voice quivering.

Isaiah kept his eyes on the framework beneath them as it sizzled. “Yeah…? But we were never allowed to bring the liquid level this high back when the chem lab was-”

He stopped speaking abruptly as the scaffolds creaked and the bridge started to tilt. Everyone shuffled around anxiously, inching towards the locked door. Twado ran back and forth across the bridge frenetically, but there was nowhere to go.

“Quit bunching up like sardines! You guys are gonna collapse this thing faster,” Monica warned. “Helios? How much longer?”

“Chill. I almost got it,” the hacker replied as the bridge continued to waver.

Prince heard something snap below them as the console beeped and the alarms shut off. They all let out a collective sigh of relief as the liquid began receding, but the support beams were already done for. Helios was nearly flattened as everyone barreled through the exit. They heard the bridge splash into the chemicals behind them.

Markus had been watching them through the window on the other door. He slammed his fist against the wall as he saw the intruders escape before moving out of sight.

“That was a bit too close for comfort,” Bradley breathed.

Isaiah glared at him. “Yeah. It was. The vent you guys are looking for is right at the end of the tunnel.” He said, jabbing a thumb behind him. “Find the elevator yourselves. I’m outta here.”

“What? Come on, man,” Prince implored, reaching out to stop him. “At least point out the right shaft-“

The mobster shrugged him off. “No! You guys have dragged me too far into your shit,” he spat. “And Markus saw your faces, you know. He’s probably on his way to tell Miss Gearwise all about you, so get going,” he finished, waving them off. Isaiah turned away into a connecting corridor and left them alone.

Chapter IV – Interlude

The apertures of Larry’s optical sensors contracted in discomfort as the lights switched on. He heard Mary’s high heels clicking softly against the floor as she stepped into his view, a lab coat thrown over her viridian dress. The disgraced crime boss struggled in his restraints, but that hadn’t worked before, and it wasn’t working now. Mary tittered at his efforts as Larry sighed and went limp on the operating table.

“Good evening, Larry. Or morning, rather. I think it’s past midnight,” she laughed, her tone maddeningly cavalier in contrast to what she was about to do. A glower was Larry’s only response.

“Oh, don’t look at me like that.” Mary walked out of his field of vision and opened one of the cabinets in the operating room. Larry could only listen to her preparing the necessary apparatus, her tools clinking against the steel tray. “All I’ve done is try to help you, and all I get in return is insults and vitriol.”

A few wisps of steam seeped from the ventilation slits on Larry’s face. He’d heard Mary voice her false concern for him too many times. “Who do you think you’re fooling?” he growled.

Larry heard the flames roar indignantly in Mary’s firebox. The tools on her tray rattled as she set it down on the stand next to the surgical table forcefully. She wasn’t smiling any more as she walked to the head of the table. She placed her hands on either side of him and leaned in.

“Stop behaving as if you don’t understand me, Larry. You were deactivated by a pack of children and allowed the purge to end early. You are worthless to this organization as you are. You were weak and I fixed you, whether you and your overblown ego can admit it or not,” she hissed, her breath blisteringly hot against his metallic skin. It would have been painful back when he’d still had flesh to melt… but that was a long time ago.

Larry clenched his fists at her words. His claws grated against the palms of his hands. “Overblown ego? You’re the one who painted your casing,” he spat, sneering at the Mary’s conceit.

Mary smirked, her moodiness fading as abruptly as it had appeared. “Ha! Am I vain for taking care of myself? You look like you haven’t been polished in years,” she taunted. The bright lights glinted on her pearly white coating as she stood up straight and returned to her tray of implements. “But I think that’s enough small talk.”

She reached out and loosened the buttons on his shirt. Larry snapped his metal jaws at her hand, but she pulled away before he could catch her fingers in his teeth.

He heard Mary pick up one of her tools. A mechanical buzzing filled the operating theater. He strained against his fetters again. This was the moment he’d been dreading for so long.

Mary loomed over him, the ghost of a smile on her lime green lips. The surgical lamp formed a halo of harsh fluorescent light around her as she brought the metal cutter to his chest.

Chapter V – Judgement Hall

Prince let his arm fall limply to his side as he watched Isaiah disappear around the bend. Helios patted him on the shoulder once the mobster was out of earshot. “We’ll be fine without him. I told you I know where the elevator is. Let’s go,” he said, gently urging Prince to start down the other hallway.

Helios led them now, and he walked fast. There was no telling how long they had before Markus tipped the boss off to their whereabouts. They didn’t have any trouble finding the vent, but Helios didn’t have anything to open it with. “Anyone got a screwdriver handy? I, uh, left mine in my hoodie when we got changed,” he admitted.

Bradley searched his overcoat for his screwdriver, but he gave Helios an odd look as he did. “Agent Helios? Is that you?”

The hacker’s jaw tightened. “Just get the vent open, old man.”

Prince cocked an eyebrow. “You guys know each other?”

Helios looked at Bradley disdainfully as the Detective knelt down and unscrewed the panel. “This asshole was one of the guys who arrested me a few years back. I used to be a part of Anonymous.”

Bradley’s face grew sour at the hacker’s enmity, but he ignored him.

Oblivious to the tension, Hadrian’s eyes lit up. “Whoa! You were in Anonymous? That’s cool as fuck!”

“But you work for the government now,” Prince pointed out. “How did that happen?”

“They gave me a choice when they brought me in. Work for them or go to the slammer. I think it’s pretty obvious which one I chose.”

The last screw clinked to the ground. Bradley moved the vent cover aside and gestured wordlessly for Helios to enter first.

Stephanie faltered in front of the opening, her face blank. She’d been growing quieter and quieter as they ventured further into the base, retreating into herself, but Prince didn’t know what he could do except keep her close. He crouched down to her level and laid a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Monica and I will go in front of you, OK? Just follow us. We’ll be…”

He stopped himself. He didn’t know when they were going to be home.

“We’ll be out of here soon. I promise.”

She nodded silently. The eldest siblings went first. Stephanie slowly clambered into the duct after them.

The passage was wide enough that they didn’t have to crawl, but they were almost bent double as they wormed through the cramped shaft. Prince almost thought he could discern distant screams, but maybe it was only the air rustling in his ears as it rushed through the tunnel around them.

He followed close behind Helios, whose nose was buried in his phone, examining the map as he walked. Prince could see the rooms they were passing through the narrow slots in the vent panels. Dorms. Armories. Warehouses. Computer labs. Workshops and laboratories. He paused as they passed an office.

Monica nearly bumped into him. “Prince? What’s the hold up?” she whispered. Helios halted and glanced back to look at him quizzically as well when he heard him stop walking.

Prince peered through the ventilation slits. “It’s an office. I see Markus.”

Helios and Monica crowded in next to Prince to take a look for themselves. Markus wasn’t alone. They couldn’t make out the conversation, but the Warden was speaking to a woman noticeably taller than him. Her hair, tied into a bun, was unnaturally reflective, and so was her pale opaline skin.

“It’s the boss,” Helios murmured.

Bradley piped up from the back of the lineup, careful to keep his voice low. “We don’t have time to dawdle here, then. We’ve got to get to the elevator before they figure out where we are.”

Prince lingered for a moment longer. Mary didn’t look too pleased with whatever the Warden was telling her. She glanced towards the vent. Her emerald LED eyes met with his for a instant. Prince’s blood froze in his veins.

Mary’s eyes flitted back to Markus before he could react, though, and there was no change in her hard visage. Maybe he was mistaken. She hadn’t seen him. He told himself so, at least.

“Dude? You okay?”

Prince was brought out of his thoughts by Helios’s voice. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m good. Uh, Bradley is right. Let’s hurry up,” he stammered, suddenly very eager to get moving again.

Helios didn’t delay. They weren’t far from their target now, and it wasn’t long before he spied their exit elevator from behind a vent.

“There!” he whispered, but he hesitated. “I don’t see anyone, though. Is this place always so empty?”

The hall was dark and devoid of mobsters. Nobody could answer Helios’s question, of course. Prince wished Isaiah was here to tell them whether it was shady or not. Either way, this simplified things. They didn’t have to figure out how to get out of the ventilation system without looking suspicious.

They couldn’t reach the screws from the inside of the vent, so Helios stuck his crowbar in between the wall and the panel and pried until the cover snapped open. Everyone squeezed out, but when they stood before the elevator, they saw that none of the buttons or indicators were lit. Prince pushed one. Nothing happened.

There was a shrill bout of audio feedback as the intercoms in the hall switched on. The corridor reverberated with a woman’s bitter, derisive laughter. “Don’t bother. I already disabled it. You won’t be going anywhere, boy. You and your friends have broken into my base and caused me a lot of trouble.”

Prince was too cowed to respond. Monica spoke instead.

“We didn’t break in! Your shitty door malfunctioned and trapped us inside. We don’t even want to be here. Let us leave,” Monica demanded.

“I don’t think so. After all, how many of my guards have you massacred?” Mary reminded them.

“Oh, please. You talk like these kids were the instigators,” Bradley rebuked.

“Detective Beans! I knew there was an informant in here. And now I don’t even need to hunt you down,” Mary gloated. “You came here looking for Larry, didn’t you? You can forget about that. I doubt you’ll be living long enough to see him.”

The blast door at the other end of the hallway opened up. The lights blinked on. The group realized that they weren’t as alone as they thought. They could see the silhouettes of mobsters through the windows lining the corridor, glaring at them through their uncanny purge masks.

“This should be fun,” quipped Mary. The intercom switched off with a thunk.

With no other choice, the group hesitantly made their way to the door. Heat radiated from the adjoining room, though it turned out that calling it a room was an understatement. The cavern was gigantesque. The walls on either side were thick metal. The jagged granite on the opposite side of the entrance was left unrefined, save for the wall of the control room and the mezzanine that Mary was standing upon, glowering down at them from high above. Molten lava churned below the metal platform ahead of them, linked to their door by nothing except a rickety rope bridge. Prince was reluctant to walk across. The thing didn’t look like it would hold their combined weight.

There were footsteps from their rear. The mafiosos were skulking towards them now, brandishing their weapons, compelling them forward.

They were boxed in, so Prince took a tentative step onto the bridge. The boards creaked as he walked onto the platform. The bridge gave way and fell into the lava after everyone had crossed—one of the mobsters had severed the ropes with his knife behind them. Prince looked up at Mary, wondering what her plan was. He couldn’t see much more than her glowing eyes in the darkness overhead.

“Ah, we meet at last… though it seems that some of your allies have deserted you,” Mary laughed. Her voice was shrill and tinny compared to Larry’s baritone, but it echoed through the cave all the same.

They glanced around at each other. She was right. Prince hadn’t been paying attention, but Helios and Uncle Pete had not followed them in.

“No matter. My subordinates will deal with them,” she continued. With that out of the way, Mary looked the gathering up and down as she leaned on her crowbar. “You’re aware there were firearms in the supply depots, right? I know you passed a few of those on your way here,” she told them, quirking an eyebrow.

Prince wasn’t too sad that they’d missed the guns—the rounds would probably ricochet right off Mary’s casing anyway—but Mary’s jeering was making him more annoyed than afraid. “Did you bring us in here for a fight or to talk shit at us?”

Mary narrowed her eyes at his provocation. She beckoned one of the operatives inside the control room. Markus came out and handed her violin to her. She placed it beneath her chin and drew her crowbar across the strings, producing a poignant melody, and Prince immediately heard burbling from the pipeline at the edge of the platform. There was a thin scraping noise as the valve’s handwheel turned on its own.

Everyone retreated towards the other end of the platform as lava spilled out of the pipe, but it streamed until they were backed up to the very edge. Any closer and the heat would start to sear them.

However, as they teetered on the edge, the valve screeched shut and the lava flow spluttered out. The group glanced around at each other, both relieved and confused.

There was a discordant twang Mary’s music faltered. Bewilderment crossed her sharp features. It appeared that she didn’t know what was happening, either. She started to play again after a moment, but the valve made a stubborn scraping noise, refusing to reopen.

Mary scowled deeply. She played a different tune this time. The lava started to drain, but their respite was short-lived as she thrust her violin back into Markus’s hands and jumped down from the mezzanine. There was a resounding bang as her high heels met steel, sending a tremor across the platform.

“Let’s dance.”

Chapter VI – Gearwise

Clang. Whirr. Prince had heard that once before, but now he was ready for it as Mary bolted at him, buzzsaws unsheathed. The blades whined in his ear as he rolled out of the way. He managed to keep all his blood inside him this time, at least for the moment.

Prince didn’t waste time in retaliating, lunging at Mary with his crowbar as she retracted her saws. She didn’t look as tough as Larry. He thought he might be able to take her down the old-fashioned way, but he was quickly disillusioned as his weapon bounced off of her casing harmlessly, barely even chipping her paint.

Mary responded in kind, and her blow sent him off the edge of the platform, but he managed to grab onto the rim, narrowly avoiding a fiery death. Winded, he wheezed and gasp for air as he gingerly dragged himself back to safety… well, relative safety. His ribs were aching like hell.

Hadrian started towards the automaton, but Bradley held an arm out to stop him. “Don’t be reckless. Your arm is injured. Stay out of this and keep your sister safe,” the Detective told him, nodding at Stephanie. The girl held onto her brother’s leg tightly.

Twado rushed at Mary instead, gnashing his teeth, evidently furious at her for striking Prince. She must not have wanted her gilded crowbar to touch the mangy thing, because her lip curled in disgust as she delivered a swift kick to his side. A few of the kids winced as they heard a crack. The dog yelped as he slid across the platform and lay still. Bradley hurried over to check on him.

The dog had diverted Mary’s attention. Maybe Monica had the chance to turn her wind-up key. She tried to edge around the automaton while she was occupied with Twado and reached up to grab it, but she’d barely touched her fingertip to the key before Mary turned abruptly and snatched Monica by the wrist in a crushing grip. She flung the girl at Prince as if she were as light as a ragdoll, and Prince had only just climbed back onto the platform when Monica collided with him, sending both of them off the edge again.

Prince caught the rim of the stage again. Monica could only grab hold of the cuff of Prince’s jeans. He tried to pull himself up, but it was impossible this time with the added weight.

Bradley stood up from where Twado was—the dog seemed fine now—and ran towards them as they dangled from the rim, but Mary sauntered into his path.

Mary opened her mouth, probably to expound another snide remark, but she was cut off before she got so much as a word out. Bradley wasted no time in striking out with his umbrella. Prince thought the guy was about to get knocked out cold, but he must have been even stronger than he looked, because Mary staggered marginally as she blocked the hit with her crowbar.

“That’s another charge of resisting arrest, Miss Gearwise,” said Bradley through gritted teeth. She just laughed wryly.

While Bradley engaged the automaton, Twado bounded to the edge of the platform and grabbed Prince’s sleeve with his teeth, slowly and steadily towing him and Monica up.

Bradley tried to bring his umbrella down onto Mary’s head, but she caught it in her hand. The Detective tried to yank it out of her grasp. She held on.

He recognized too late that he had no way to parry her crowbar now. Mary swung for Bradley’s skull. He reacted quick and tried to evade the blow, but it still clipped the side of his head, knocking his hat askew. He stumbled backwards and clutched his temple, dazed.

Mary grinned viciously and raised her weapon to finish him off, but the look was wiped off her face as someone wrenched her wind-up key. She hissed in displeasure and froze up for a moment as her gears seized, but her disorientation didn’t last long.

The automaton spun around with her smirk replaced with a look of acute loathing. She lashed out and raked Prince across the face with her sharp fingernails before he could respond, leaving several long, bloody gashes behind. A guttural snarl escaped from Mary’s lips as she did, as if it was gravely insulting that the boy would even try to lay his filthy fingers on her key.

She didn’t have time to assault Prince any further, though. Bradley had already come to his senses. He adjusted his hat. Mary glanced over her shoulder as she heard the Detective’s footsteps on the steel stage. She saw movement from the corner of her mechanical eye. Monica and Twado were flanking her from both sides. Even the injured Hadrian had grown tired of being sidelined and was now advancing towards Mary as well.

The automaton whirled around and feinted at Bradley, just to keep him away. She must have realized that at least one of them would get their hands on her wind-up key if she tried to fight them all at once. The mechanisms in Mary’s legs clicked as they engaged. She leapt onto one of the tall stone pillars surrounding the platform, perching on it gracefully.

The group stared up at her. Prince spread his arms in a challenge. “Get the fuck back down here, you bitch!” he roared, his face still bleeding. Mary said nothing. She simply smirked and licked a few drops of blood off her manicured nails.

Monica pulled some gauze out of her first aid kit. Prince irritably tried to shrug her off—“I’m fine”—but she managed to press it onto his face and stem the flow of blood.

Bradley pointed at Mary with his umbrella. “Mary Gearwise, I have reason to believe that you were involved in the disappearance of Larry Clockturn. I demand you reveal his whereabouts at once!”

Mary threw her head back and cackled. “You want to know what happened to Larry? Fine. I’ll show you.” She looked over at the control room and nodded at Markus. He pulled a lever on one of the panels.

There was a harsh grinding sound as the wall to their left slowly parted. They hadn’t noticed it when they came in here, but it was actually an enormous sliding gate.

Everyone backed away as it opened. It might have been some sort of depot, though it was hard to tell though the darkness. The light from a pair of LED eyes pierced through the shadows.

Big ones.

Raucous metallic scraping filled the air as the goliath activated and hauled itself from the ground, exposed gears and levers ticking loudly. Its rugged plating caught the orange glow of the lava beneath.

“What the Hell is that?” cried Prince as the clockwork behemoth took a step forward, making the entire cavern quake.

“It’s the new and improved Larry Clockturn, of course,” Mary declared. Markus emerged from the control room and tossed her violin to her. She started to play again. At the sound of her music, the aperture of the machine’s eye dilated and blazed brightly. Its gaze zeroed in on Prince.

Bradley understood what was happening first. “Prince! Get out of the way!” he hollered.

Crimson light flooded the room as Larry discharged his laser. Prince dived out of the way just in time, but he could still feel the scorching heat against his back as the beam passed him by.

It melted through the steel flooring like butter. The scaffolds holding it up groaned as they started to bend. Prince scrambled to his feet and stared up at Larry as his laser fizzled out. The automaton’s optical receptors contracted to the size of pinpricks and darted around frantically. He seemed almost afraid, but the look vanished almost as soon as it had shown up.

Prince didn’t have time to think about what that meant. The two halves of the stage were dipping away from each other.

The group was separated. Twado leapt across the gap before it became too wide and grabbed the back of Stephanie’s shirt in his mouth, who was slipping down the incline, and lugged her over to Prince and Hadrian. The eldest brother pulled Stephanie into his arms as their half of the platform swayed dangerously above the lava.

Bradley and Monica were trapped on the other side. They looked across at them helplessly. The columns holding them up had thankfully stopped buckling, but there was nowhere to run.

Mary grinned in morbid anticipation as Larry prepared to bisect the platform a second time. His eye dilated again. However, the LED flickered as his laser failed to charge up all the way. Bradley retreated as the beam struck the ground in front of him, but it wasn’t hot enough to melt through the metal.

Mary’s smile faded slightly. “My apologies… I thought I had already disabled his free will. He appears to be resisting my commands. How cute,” she crooned as she drew her crowbar over the strings of her instrument once more.

Larry’s components creaked and juddered as he tried to move, but his gears had locked up. His eye flashed on and off, refusing to even begin charging this time.

Now Mary was scowling. She glared into the control room. Markus shrugged and shook his head at her. She turned towards Larry again just in time to see a masked mafioso clamber onto his shoulder. Mary’s eyes widened in outrage as he thrust his crowbar through a gap in the giant automaton’s casing and triggered his emergency shutdown mechanism.

Chapter VII – AWOL

“Helios.”

Helios frowned. He looked around, but there was no one else in the hallway with him and his troupe. Just the mobsters staring at them through the windows.

“Helios!” the voice hissed again. Oh. It was coming from behind him. Helios slowed his pace and glanced back discreetly, lagging behind the rest of the group. Isaiah was peeking out of the vent they’d come in here from. He beckoned the hacker over.

Helios peered around again. The mobsters seemed to be fixated on the others. He slipped away and reentered the vent before anyone noticed.

“Isaiah? I thought you were done with us,” Helios whispered.

“I changed my mind. We have to move,” Isaiah replied. Helios trailed him cautiously.

“Why? Where are we going?”

“Mary called almost everyone in the base to the primary control room. Her lab is pretty much unguarded, so I decided to snoop around a little bit. I found Larry. Deactivated. Chassis ripped wide open,” Isaiah recounted, knitting his brow as he recalled the scene. “I found the blueprints for his new body.”

“New body? What are you saying?”

“I’m getting to that part! Mary cut his heart out. She made him a new body that she could control. The thing is giant. She’s using his heart as the energy source, and the heart is him, so his original body isn’t gonna wake up without it. She’s going to use the new one on your pals. They have no chance.”

“And we’re just letting them walk into the trap?”

“I need them to stall her, and she was going to lock the base down and have her lackeys kill them anyway if they didn’t show up. I have a plan. Larry’s new body has computerized parts, not just clockwork ones. It helps her control him, but it also means he can be hacked. I’m taking you to the lab. There’s a console there that she used to test him out. It’s got the blueprints in it and everything. I think you can use it to access his network, but you have to deactivate the lava pipeline system first… we don’t want your buddies getting their legs burnt to a crisp before they even see the big guy. I need you to get him to stay still long enough for me to reach him and trip his e-stop. Got it?”

“Yeah, I think I can do that.”

“Good.” Isaiah stopped in front of the spot where a ventilation panel used to be, but he must have broken it open already while he’d been sneaking around. He climbed out and showed Helios the console. “This is the place. Try to do this quietly. There are still a couple guards outside the door,” he whispered to Helios. The mobster thrust a two-way radio into his hands. “Use that to tell me when Larry is immobilized.”

Helios nodded, but Isaiah was already reentering the vent, leaving him on his own. The hacker cracked his knuckles and got to work.

Chapter VIII – System Reboot

Prince watched as Larry shut down and toppled backwards. It reminded the boy of when he’d beaten the automaton in the sewers, but the ensuing impact was much, much louder this time when he hit the ground.

Mary threw her violin at Markus. “Deal with that traitor!” she thundered at him. The Warden reentered the control room and sent some of the operators away. They ran through the door, heading for Larry’s depot. The masked mobster was standing on Larry’s chest now, trying to pry one of the plates open. It had to be Isaiah.

“What are you doing, man? Mind getting us off of this platform?” Prince called out.

Isaiah glanced up at him and held up a finger. Wait.

Prince turned around as a mechanical hum filled the cave. He’d expected Mary to jump down and confront the group, but she was still glowering down at them from the stone pillar. The noise had to be coming from her.

The temperature in the formerly stifling cavern was dropping fast. Prince looked up as a raindrop hit his face. Were those clouds?

“She’s got a weather machine built into her!” Bradley realized as lightning struck the ground right in front of him. An indoor tempest was brewing.

Isaiah got Larry’s chassis open and heaved the metal plate away until the gap was large enough for him to fit inside. His gaze scanned the internal hardware until he spotted the automaton’s clockwork heart. It was strangely amusing how such a comparatively small gadget had been powering a giant robot. He lowered himself through the gears and circuitry until it was within reach and gingerly disconnected the tubes and cables holding it in place. The ticking of the mechanism’s gears slowed down as he removed it. An iridescent mystery liquid sloshed around inside the heart’s windowed ventricles as Isaiah climbed back out of the chassis.

The lava sizzled as rain pattered against it. Prince could feel the electricity in the air before lightning hit the spot where he’d been standing moments before. “Dude! What’s the situation?” he yelled at Isaiah.

Isaiah was too absorbed in his task to respond. He’d already dragged Larry’s real body into the depot before he’d gone to fetch Helios, but he didn’t have a lot of time. He was screwed if the other mafiosos made it here before he had Larry operational. Isaiah sprinted to the corner where he’d left the automaton with the heart in his hands and stooped down to set it back in Larry’s chest cavity. It clicked into place.

The mobster stuck his hand under his suit and felt around for the brazing torch and rod he’d brought with him. He fumbled with the hose for a second before he inserted it into the fuel cylinders on the ground and lit the torch, carefully soldering Larry’s tubes and pipes back onto his heart.

A gale was beginning to pick up. Bradley rolled out of the way as a fork of lightning targeted him again. The wind buffeted him, but perhaps that was a good thing.

The Detective opened his umbrella. The motor inside it began to rumble. He held it up and let a gust carry him towards Mary. She took a swipe at him with her crowbar as he neared, but he veered out of the way and landed behind her. He grabbed her key and twisted it counterclockwise a second time before Mary could do anything about it.

Mary winced as she turned and swung her crowbar wide, striking Bradley in the side. He grunted in discomfort and tumbled from the pillar as the vent cover above Mary popped off and smacked against her head. Pete jumped through and landed on her, casting her down from the pillar as well before he reentered the ventilation shaft and vanished again.

Bradley drifted to the floor with his umbrella and gently touched his feet to the ground next to Monica. Mary hit the ground on the other end of the platform with a crash. She groaned in discomfort as she heaved herself to her feet, but her grousing quickly became a snarl as she stalked towards the Detective.

Pete soon emerged from a vent in the depot. He hastily scrawled something across his whiteboard as he rushed to Isaiah: HURRY THEY ARE ALMOST HERE

Larry’s golden eyes blinked on as Isaiah made the last connection. He sat up immediately and wrapped his huge hand around the mobster’s throat. Isaiah dropped his brazing torch to pry the automaton’s fingers away.

“Get your hands off of me, you asshole! I’m trying to help you!” Isaiah snapped.

Larry’s eyes widened slightly, as if he was surprised to hear Isaiah’s voice coming from behind that mask. The automaton glanced down at his chassis, still wide open. He reluctantly released Isaiah and lay down again. “Get on with it, then,” he spat, still glaring.

Isaiah picked up the sheet of metal that Mary had cleaved away from Larry’s casing and placed it over his chest. He picked up the torch again and slowly ran it along the seams. The automaton tensed up at the searing heat, but he held still.

Isaiah had barely finished when Larry shoved the mobster away and got to his feet. He’d secured the plate just in time, too, because the mafiosos that Markus had sent came charging through the depot doors as Larry buttoned up his shirt and picked up his crowbar.

The mafiosos skidded to a standstill when they saw the reactivated Larry standing before them, tall and terrible. He swung his crowbar into the closest one’s abdomen with quite a bit more strength than necessary, burying the curved end in his innards. There was a nauseating squelch and a strangled yelp from the mobster. A section of his viscera came out with Larry’s crowbar as the automaton pulled it free. The others turned tail and ran back the way they’d came as their comrade collapsed into a convulsing heap, too afraid to even try to fight him.

Isaiah made a disgusted noise. “Ugh. That was overkill,” he mumbled as he kicked the whimpering mafioso into the lava. Larry paid him no mind. He turned to the platform. Mary wasn’t the only one who could leap high. He cleared the gap easily and landed right behind her.

The platform shook as his shoes met the steel platform. The scaffolds finally buckled, sending his end of the stage plunging. He was prepared for that. Mary wasn’t. She lost her balance as the platform sank slowly into the molten rock.

Larry grabbed his tormentor with both hands and hurled her into the lava.

Chapter IX – Exit Path

The mafiosos could only watch as Mary disappeared into the molten rock. Markus stared in disbelief until there was a stir in the control room. The mobsters began quarrelling… then they drew weapons on each other. A brawl broke out.

They were fighting amongst themselves. Prince realized as a splatter of blood hit the windowpane that Larry’s old goons must have wanted him back in charge.

Bradley unfurled his umbrella again before the gale storm died down completely. He took Monica’s hand. They both glided into the depot.

The Detective grabbed hold of the metal plate that Isaiah had removed from the behemoth earlier. “Help me move this thing,” he called out to the others.

They lugged the plate towards the edge of the pit and pushed it outwards until it met Prince’s half of the platform. It wobbled precariously, but they held it down as Prince crossed the improvised bridge with Stephanie in his arms. Hadrian and Twado followed from behind. Larry jumped back into the depot as well, landing disconcertingly close to the group. The kids shrank away as Bradley stepped in front of them protectively and pointed at the automaton. Larry raised an artificial eyebrow.

“Larry Clockturn, you are under arrest for-”

Pete bonked the Detective on the head with his whiteboard.

“Ow. What? He’s wanted for hundreds of felonies.”

The elevator is still disabled. We need his help finding our way out, Pete wrote.

“Yeah, I know a different exit,” Larry muttered, but he nonetheless looked mildly annoyed when the group started following him.

They trailed behind the crime boss—well, ex-crime boss—hesitantly. “We still need to get Helios,” Isaiah mentioned. Before they reached the door, however, they heard the sound of metal scraping against metal. Larry turned back towards the platform.

Mary was clawing her way back up, her pearlescent façade burnt away by the lava, revealing her brassy gold casing. Patches of paint still clung to her, scorched black. She glanced back at Larry warily as she climbed high enough to jump back onto the pillar, then onto the mezzanine. The mobsters had already fled the control room, but she ran inside and disappeared from sight. Fury flared in Larry’s golden eyes as he barreled through the depot doors to pursue her.

Everyone ran out the doorway after him. They were back in the corridor with the disabled elevator, but Larry ran in a different direction.

“Where are you going?” Prince yelled. The automaton didn’t reply.

“There’s an old mineshaft leading to the surface in this direction,” Isaiah answered instead. “It’s always been sealed, but Mary must’ve opened it to escape. There’s no other way.”

They came upon the control room where Isaiah had left Helios, but Larry didn’t wait up as they pushed the doors open to find him.

“Helios, we have to…”

Isaiah trailed off. The room was empty.

“Helios?” the mobster called out. There was no reply. He tried contacting him with his radio, but the hacker didn’t respond to that either.

“We have to move before we lose Larry. Maybe Helios escaped already. Come on,” Bradley said as he ran back outside.

They caught up with Larry as he arrived at the gate to the mine. The blast doors were already open. Mary was on the other side of the decaying tunnel, hovering over Helios, watching him as he knelt in front of the keypad next to the elevator and desperately tried to crack the activation code. She seized the hacker in a chokehold and turned towards the group as she heard Larry’s heavy footsteps approaching.

“Come any closer and he dies!” Mary screeched at them. Larry didn’t seem too worried about that, but Bradley grabbed his arm to stop him from advancing.

“Let him go, Miss Gearwise. We just want to leave this place,” Bradley tried to reason.

Mary laughed, her eyes wide and manic. “Leave? You’re the ones who intruded upon my base in the first place. Slaughtered dozens of my agents. Do you know how much time I spent working on Larry? You brats have ruined everything,” she hissed as she tightened her grip around Helios’s throat. He scrabbled uselessly as her arm, eyes bulging as Mary crushed his windpipe.

Prince gritted his teeth. Mary’s words sent his thoughts racing. The gang of mobsters they’d encountered in the upper levels, even though there was no surveillance there. The door that had malfunctioned and trapped them. The lightning storm outside that had driven them here in the first place, even though the weather forecast had predicted clear skies. Mary’s weather machine…

“No. You lured us in here,” Prince murmured.

Mary narrowed her eyes. “What are you talking about?” she snapped.

“That’s why you knew we were here when the cameras were offline. You caused that storm outside. You took that tree down with your lightning. You had that barricade set up on the trail, so we’d come here for shelter,” Prince spoke louder. “You made the door short circuit with your lightning instead of shutting it remotely so we wouldn’t get suspicious… and rigged those pipes to blow and cut us off in the upper levels, so we’d walk right into those mobsters. You knew we were here the whole time. You set us up!” he finished, jabbing an accusing finger at Mary.

Mary’s lips slowly curved into a smirk as Prince spoke. “Clever boy.”

“Why?” he demanded.

“I needed someone to test my creation on, and you are the ones who deactivated Larry. I couldn’t leave you alive,” Mary stated. Helios wheezed for breath as she loosened her grip ever so slightly.

Bradley shook his head. “Rubbish. I know for a fact you never cared for Larry. It was the Headmaster who ordered their deaths, wasn’t it?”

Mary’s eyelid twitched at the mention of her superior. She ignored the Detective. “Larry, tell me the elevator’s code and I’ll let Helios go,” she said as she nodded at the dilapidated cage elevator and tightened her stranglehold on the young man.

Larry sneered and tried to press forward. Bradley held him back. The automaton’s gears clanked in frustration as he lifted his crowbar to beat the Detective away, but Isaiah elbowed his way to the forefront of the group before a fight could break out. “How about you think about someone other than your fucking self for once?” the mobster whispered harshly as he shook Larry’s shoulder. The automaton griped inaudibly and hardly budged as Isaiah jostled him, but he got the point.

“0625,” he begrudgingly told Mary.

Helios gasped for air as Mary finally removed one arm from his neck and punched the code into the keypad. The rusty elevator doors squealed as they parted. He tried to break away from her grasp, but he yelped as she grabbed the collar of his jacket and yanked him into the elevator after her. “Oh, no, you’re coming with me,” Mary muttered venomously.

“Hey! You said you’d let him go!” Prince yelled angrily from the other side of the tunnel.

Mary just flashed a grin at him and waved at him as the doors shut. The elevator creaked and rumbled up the mineshaft.

She was gone.

Epilogue

There was nothing to do except wait in morose silence for the elevator to return underground. Prince kept starting at the entrance to the mine, worried that some of Mary’s loyalists might show up, but none did.

The mood relaxed a little bit as Twado stood on his hindquarters and pawed Larry’s legs, whining for attention. He’d been too preoccupied to pay attention earlier, but now the automaton reached down and ruffled the fur on the dog’s head. “Glad to see you too, Twado.”

“He knows you?” Prince asked, surprised.

“He was my guard dog when I ran this place. But he looks like Mary had him thrown outside,” he muttered, shaking his head at Twado’s grubby coat.

The elevator doors squeaked open as the carriage arrived. Prince picked up Helios’s sunglasses from the floor. One of the lenses was cracked. He slipped them in his pocket as the elevator closed and started to carry everyone to the surface. Maybe he’d get to return them eventually if the hacker was still alive.

Isaiah went to sit on an old crate, but Larry pushed him aside. “Is that coal? Finally,” said the automaton as he ripped the lid off and shoved a handful of the stuff into his jaws. The kids watched with profound bewilderment.

“What? You didn’t think I was actually spring powered, did you?” he chuckled. The wind-up key on his back rotated ever so slightly. “This is just a kill switch. I have a steam engine.”

I thought your heart was your energy supply? wrote Pete.

There was a whoosh as the fuel caught aflame in Larry’s firebox. “It’s for emergencies. When I run out of real fuel.”

“It seemed like it was working fine before,” Prince remarked.

“You people ask too many damn questions.”

“No kidding,” Isaiah muttered.

Bradley answered instead. “The heart works too well. It will grind his gears to dust if he relies on it forever.” Larry scowled at him, but the Detective didn’t seem phased. “What are you going to do now?”

Larry was caught off guard by the question. “What do you mean?”

“I thought you’d retake control of the base. Why didn’t you?” Bradley added.

The automaton laughed bitterly. “Give me a break. Do you have any idea what they’ve been doing to me down here? They can fuck themselves.”

“You’re just now realizing that? You were just fine with their shit before you were the one getting tortured,” Isaiah scoffed, but his temper dissolved into a sulk as soon as Larry shot him a look.

“OK, time for you guys to tell us what your problem is. You said you joined the mafia during the last purge,” Prince cut in, pointing a finger at Isaiah, “but you keep acting like you’ve been here a lot longer than that. What’s the deal?”

Neither Larry nor Isaiah answered, but Bradley looked back and forth between the two of them a few times. “Isaiah is your son?” he surmised.

Isaiah grimaced as the Detective said it. Larry punched the wall next to Bradley’s head, rocking the entire carriage and leaving a dent in the metal. Stephanie clung to Prince. Twado barked and scurried around as the lonely light bulb flickered and swayed on its wire above them. Bradley was looking pissed, but he didn’t retaliate—this was neither the time nor place for a fight, and Isaiah surely felt the same, because he walked between them and stared Larry down until he backed off.

“Guess that was a yes,” said Hadrian. Monica thumped him on the side of the head.

The mood was somehow even more sullen now. Larry had withdrawn to the corner of the elevator. He looked lost in his thoughts, but they couldn’t stay silent forever.

“What do we do?” Prince asked.

“I would call in a raid on this base right now, but we’d have to find some cell signal for that,” Bradley said.

“It’s not a good time,” Larry argued. “The next purge is in eight days.”

Hadrian groaned. “The next purge? You guys do that every year?”

“Shut it. I’m not finished. We need to get somewhere safe. You’re all in even more danger than last time if the Headmaster put a hit on you.”

That name again. “Who the hell is the Headmaster?” Prince questioned.

“He’s the one pulling the strings in all this. It was him who turned Larry and Mary into these,” Bradley responded, motioning to the automaton. “And those two aren’t the only ones who have been subjected to the procedure. I don’t suppose you were privy to his ultimate plans, were you?” he asked Larry.

Larry scowled at the question, but there was a hint of melancholy on his metallic features. “No, I wasn’t. But that’s not important right now. I know where a safehouse is,” he said as the elevator finally reached the surface. Everyone stepped out as the sun peeked over the horizon. The storm had died out into a light sprinkling of rain.

A couple of miscreants crouched in the dense trees and vegetation, concealed from view. One of them observed the new arrivals through his binoculars as they exited the carriage.

“Well, what do ya know?” said one of them.

“What? Luke, what do you see?”

“Mr. Clockturn made it out… but he looks to be defecting. What a shame, what a shame,” replied Luke, though he didn’t sound very saddened with that.

Brooke laughed. “Somehow, that doesn’t surprise me. Are we gonna take him down or what?”

“Don’t be rash, Brooke. He’s not alone. The meddlers are with him, and there’s gonna be a better opportunity soon. The next purge is coming right up.” the boy said as he stood up. Brooke snatched his binoculars and took a look at the group for herself.

“Come on. Those shrimps have nothing! We can take them,” she protested.

Luke shook his head and started walking away. “No. Last thing we need is to blow our first major assignment.”

Brooke grumbled in discontent, but she acquiesced and followed her brother deeper into the woods.

“Fine. Let them think they’re safe… for now.”

#roblox break in #break in roblox #roblox #break in 2 #scary larry #scary mary #tw implied SA

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tswaney17 · 2 years ago

Text

It's a Match - Part 1

Happy birthday to the incredible @impossiblescissorspeachpaper!! I hope you have the loveliest of birthdays baby. I'm so blessed to call you one of my close friends. You're such an incredible person. 💕 Enjoy your special day, my love.

This fic is inspired by a conversation between myself, @ultadverb, @offtorivendell, @impossiblescissorspeachpaper, and @duskwhisperer. Thank you all for allowing me to take this idea and run with it. Also, apologies because this is barely edited. I was a hot mess all over this fic and it shows. 😅

My fanfic account: @tswaney17fics

My ao3 account: tswaney17

Please let me know what you think about this update. I love getting your feedback. Constructive criticism is always welcome. 💕

Trigger warnings: language, NSFW

Word Count: 9,759

Read the full fic on AO3 here. Snippet under the cut.

Azriel was lounging on the couch in Cassian’s apartment regretting every decision that led him to this moment. Because just a few minutes ago, he accidentally let slip that he downloaded The Cauldron, a dating app, a month ago and his brother and Mor had not stopped pestering him about it since the words passed through his slightly buzzed lips.

“Come on, Az,” Mor whined, hanging over his shoulder and shooting him those puppy-dog eyes he had trouble resisting. “Open it up. Let’s see who you’re chatting with.”

That’s where the problem lay. Azriel wasn’t chatting with anyone because he never actually swiped right on anybody. It wasn’t that he didn’t find anyone particularly attractive—there were plenty of pretty girls on the app—it was just that he wanted something more than a physical relationship. He was thirty now; had a good career and his own place, made good money, and was freely able to spend it on anything without worrying about paying his bills. His life was in a good spot.

But he never really dated. Yes, he got women and fucked them well, Az wasn’t self-conscious enough to not know he was an attractive man, but those one-night stands just weren’t cutting it for him anymore. He wanted a genuine connection with someone; somebody he could build a relationship with.

Like what Rhys had found in his new girlfriend, Feyre. He’d met her once or twice, but it was obvious his brother was completely in love with the woman. Head over heels kind of in love. He was happy for him, truly. But sometimes, when he listened to his brother speak about the light of his life, he got this envious feeling inside; because he wanted that too.

He supposed that this dating app in general was probably not the best place to find that, but he was at a loss on where to find women that were looking for more than riding dick. Az sighed, running a brutally scarred hand through his dark hair, the strands flopping onto his forehead. “I’m not chatting with anyone,” he admitted, taking another swig of his beer.

~~~~~

Remember, sharing is caring! Please reblog if you liked the fic. It helps spread my work and I truly appreciate it. 💕

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kimetsu-chan · 11 months ago

Note

(i hope it’s ok if i go ahead and send this in cause ima forget it if i don’t)

I have a fic request that is extremely angsty

It’s for the Milo Kocho au

So in the final battle, Muzan kidnapped Milo and brought her very close to death

I’d like to request post battle when Milo wakes up 5 months after the battle ended:3

Everyone and everything is very different so she’ll probably take a lot of things very hard and she’ll probably blame herself for not being able to save everybody

~Guilt~

A/N: oh this is going to be angsty. Like, real bad.

The Milo Stan’s are gonna come for me, that’s how bad this is.

This has major manga spoilers

TWs: angst, angst with no comfort, death, Milo has major survivors guilt, and possibly more that I may have missed. If any of these topics are unsettling to you, please do not read.

Milo had woken up from her five month coma four weeks ago.

And boy was she having a hard time coping.

The pure amount of people who had died that day… deaths that she felt that she could’ve prevented…

Miss Shinobu.. who had taken her in.

Muichiro Tokito… someone who she had seen as a brother.

Basil… someone she had loved, and seen turned into a demon, then disappear to where no one knew where he went.

They even lost Mr. Himejima… their strongest hashira.

Even one of her closest friends, and someone she would consider family died.

She knew Giyuu was just as torn over Yuna’s death as she was. But at least he was able to put a brave face on.

Another close friend, Tanjiro, and his sister, Nezuko, had been doing their best to comfort her after such a devastating loss.

She knew she should be happy that Muzan was dead, and that most demons had been eradicated, but she couldn’t help but feel utterly destroyed.

She had tricked herself into thinking that she caused some of their deaths, and that she had prevented their survival by getting in the way.

Not only did a multitude of people die, but so many had changed as well.

Some had began to be happier, and it felt like she was the only one grieving.

She felt silly for being the only one this outwardly sad.

She should be able to just get over it, right?

Wrong.

Milo found herself crying in her room. Alone.

The loneliness was starting to get to her, even though she was surrounded by people.

Oh why couldn’t she have just used her powers to heal them?!

She understands that doing so would most certainly cost her her life, but she didn’t care!

It would’ve been so much better for a larger group of people to survive, then one measly helper.

That was her way of viewing it anyway…

Milo wiped the tears that were falling like waterfalls. She felt so pathetic.

She adjusted her position in the corner of the room and re-buried her face in her arms.

The girl had curled herself into a ball and hadn’t left her room all day. Even when people came to check in on her.

Milo felt the familiar call of sleep luring her in.

Sleeping was the only thing she could think of doing to make her forget… everything.

Even when she had nightmares, she thought it was better than facing the reality that almost everyone she loved was either dead, or missing.

She didn’t even bother wiping her tears as her eyes finally closed for longer than a second.

Milo was slowly drifting off, imagining the faces of those she lost smiling back at her.

But they weren’t happy smiles.

They were smiles filled with sadness, regret, pity.

She couldn’t join them.

Not yet.

No matter how much she wanted to.

A/N: I busted some fat tears while writing this. My baby 😭

IABSJSBSUSBSMSBSUSNJSBSHSISNSJSN

I really liked writing it tho, even though it made me FREAKING BAWL MY EYES OUT.

Forgot to mention previously, Basil is not my oc. They belong to @aceofstars0.

#🍁#oc #hehehe #demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #kny #yuna handa #milo suzuki #tw death mention #tw death #tw grief #tw survivors guilt

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mishydraws · 1 year ago

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Very... very unfortunate life update

Hi, everyone.

Ok, I don’t want to waste your time but I wanted to be upfront about what’s going on in my life just so you all know.

Last night I got what is probably one of the worst emails that could have ever appeared in my inbox? Our landlord has given us a 60-day notice to get out. For context, my mom and I have been living here since the year 2000. We have never been late on rent or missed a payment despite every difficulty life has thrown at us in that time and this has completely blindsided us.

We haven’t spoken to any of the neighbors yet but some of the wording on the notice makes me think that they may be kicking out the entire building. Or maybe they’re just targeting those of us in the non-renovated units because we’ve been here so long and they could charge a new tenant much more with a quick kitchen and bathroom upgrade. Renoviction is a new word I just learned. I don’t know. That’s what happened to my brother at his last apartment. They kicked out everyone in his building, renovated, raised the rent, then let new people move in.

They suddenly started increasing our rent every year like clockwork a few years ago so I’ve had a feeling they’ve been trying to price us out for a while but I didn’t know they could just… tell us to leave just because they can. Rent consistently paid up and everything for 24 years.

The notice we received really doesn’t say much so it’s all speculation I guess. It doesn’t state a reason why it just says we need to be gone by March 31st.

But basically, I’m really not doing well right now in all honesty. I slept for maybe an hour last night and it’s like a switch flipped in me as soon as I read the email. My stomach has had this weird knotted feeling ever since and I can’t stand up for more than a few minutes before needing to lie down again in case I either faint or vomit… I’m not sure which but it’s been this way since last night. I had to stand up at the sink to wash one singular dish from dinner and I could barely do it. At least I didn’t see the email until after I ate last night because I still have no appetite now.

However bad I’m feeling I know my mom is probably feeling worse. She has been for a while. She’s getting older and my dad is no longer alive. Aside from my brother and one irl friend I still see in person regularly, we have no family or other support system in this country and are well and truly on our own, staring down the barrel of homelessness if we can’t quickly secure a place and move decades worth of our life there before the end of March.

All of this to say, I don’t know what our usual art shenanigans here are going to look like during this time. I am incredibly stressed to the point where I am physically ill but I also can’t pause and step away because I do need the income that I receive from your support of me/my art here. It’s just the reality. I’ve never been particularly Big And Successful with what I do so your support means all the much more and makes a real impact on my life.

I am so sorry if this dampens your mood at all today or if you notice a decrease in the quality of art I’m able to deliver over the next few months but I will try my best to keep things rolling and let you know if there’s any particular delays to expect.

To top it off, I requested a tour of a nearby apartment last night (more expensive than our current) and the name of the person who just texted me back has the same name as our current landlord. Who wants to start taking bets? I know for a fact they own a lot of property in the area so this isn’t looking promising.

Anyways. Sorry for this downer of a post. If we’re not homeless in 2 months then… I dunno. I’ll have somewhere indoors to do art? Yay? You can imagine the housing market we’re dealing with being in California. The prospect of moving at this point has always been one of my biggest fears but we’ll see if we get lucky real fast 😢

If you've ever thought about supporting my Patreon or anything else, now and over the next few months might be a good time if you can swing it. Maybe it'll help us secure a place to move if I can point to it and be like 'Look! A whole income!' 🥲 Idk man.

There's an art update in the (public) post I made if you want to see what we're at least trying to work on for sticker club through all of this.

Mishy

#mishy talks

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lackadaisy-headcanon-supply-unit · 2 years ago

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Hi👋♡.

May I request one-shots Serafine Savoy and Nico Savoy with teen fem!Reader (Platonic) the Reader is a delivery girl she helps them all the time and of course they have to get her something for her hard work she do for them.

[ money maybe?]

{Love your blog by the way♡}.

Don't know how this turned into a spin-off, cat episode of something that feels straight out of Peaky Blinders, but here you go!

Get a job, Mother said. The world is changing and girls need to pull their weight, just how I did during the Great War.

However, when Y/N finally got one of course she wasn't too happy.

"An unpaid delivery girl? You could have aimed slightly higher, especially with that mind of yours."

Well, perhaps she wouldn't have been so picky if she realized her daughter didn't have much of a choice in the matter. No one accidentally ran into a criminals hunting ground and got out completely unscathed, in reputation or otherwise. Her own price to pay was becoming an uncompensated errand girl for a couple of no good kitties with sharp gazes, smiles and knives. A lot of knives, and guns too.

The option to refuse wasn't really on the table. That was a couple of months ago now.

Maybe Y/N should have realized sooner something about her job was shadier than she first thought. At first there seem to be nothing amiss. Y/N was asked to post letters, carry tattered and lightly but suspiciously stained clothes to and from the tailors. Small things she had no problem doing for free. They weren't too out of the way either; most of the shops and post boxes were on her way to school.

Her suspicions only really started when she was sent to pick up a suspicious-looking package from a derelict riverside cafe. It was just the one, and she delivered it without a hitch. Looking back she probably should have failed to do so; it would have certainly avoided the fear and stress that came when she was sent on a similar errand the week after.

Then it became every three days and sometimes even twice in one.

Mother was right: Y/N had a good head on her shoulders. She didn't need to peek into the boxes to know what she was carrying was less than legal. She was also well aware that if anything happened to the cargo inside she'd be dead, but she was also smart enough to know she could hand it over to the cops at any time. Who knows, she could end up taking down a major crime ring in St. Louis. She could become a hero!

Or…

She could beat her generously-loaded employers at their own game.

Y/N burst into the hotel suite, waving the letter high in her hand. "Delivery!"

The cloud of smoke hanging around the divans parted, and a carefully manicured, clawed hand beckoned her closer. "Merci, now give it here, cher."

For once, Y/N stayed put. "No."

"No?" The hand cleared the rest of the fog, and Miss Savoy's amber eye watched her, widening.

Those stares didn't scare Y/N anymore, not after working for them for months. She even took a step back. "No."

"Elle se prend pour qui?" Miss Savoy's brother growled, raising himself up from his seat. His cigarette hung limply from the corner of his mouth.

"Nico, laisse-la," Miss Savoy tutted. "Elle a du culot, c'est presque impressionnant."

"I'd like it if you didn't talk behind my back," Y/N bit out.

"And we'd like it if you hand over the letter like the good girl we know you can be."

Again, Y/N held it out of reach. "And I'd like to be compensated."

"Your compensation is us not killin' you for messin' up our gig," Nico pointed out.

"You gangstas might want to think of marking your territory better so a teenager doesn't fuck you up."

"She swears too."

They seemed almost surprised. Y/N decided to skip the rest of the pleasantries.

"Money."

"What?"

"I want money."

Nico and Serafine looked at each other. Then, he smirked. She grinned. They both fell about laughing, leaving a confused Y/N to ping-pong between them and scowl.

"What's so funny?"

They only replied to each other in quick snippets of French she couldn't understand.

"What is it?" she repeated.

"T'as perdu, c'est toi qui paye," Serafine smirked to her brother, again ignoring Y/N's questions.

Nico rolled his eyes and rummaged around in a nearby tin. "Bien joué…"

He held out a wad of cash—and by god it was more than she had ever seen in her life! He was essentially offering her her own small fortune, most of it likely made of blood money.

She didn't take it right away. "What's all this about?"

Nico shook the money in front of her eyes. "Bettin' to see how long it'd take you to man up and ask."

Y/N was dumbfounded. "Ask?"

"For payment."

So, they were saying everything she had done for free, every risk and every broken law…

"All I had to do was ask?!"

Nico cracked a sickening grin. "Yes, cher."

Yes. That was all he said, the only confirmation. She wanted to scream, she wanted to shout, she wanted to take that rifle off the wall and—

She snatched up the money with a frown, shooting daggers from her eyes. She handed over the letter. "I hate you both."

Nico's grin softened. "Hate you too," he said with no real conviction or the previous bit she knew he could give.

Almost as if he was trying to be her friend.

They could try all they liked, but they wouldn't get far.

Not now.

#🦉mod iphiko #lackadaisy #lackadaisy reader insert #lackadaisy & reader #nicodeme savoy #lackadaisy nico #nicodeme lackadaisy #serafine savoy #lackadaisy serafine #oneshot on the rocks #oneshot #aaaaah I'm burning myself out #let's gooo... :')

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becauseimanicequeen · 9 months ago

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RANDOM THOUGHTS: Big Dragon ep. 6 (rewatch)

(These are my random thoughts from my rewatch on the 29th-30th of March 2024)

Since my rewatches may contain spoilers, I’m putting my random thoughts after the “Read More” link.

After that ending in the previous episode, I’m expecting more tension between Yai and Mangkorn in this one.

Mangkorn’s mom is right. In most cases, going abroad for a few years is like running away from the problem.

The fact that Mangkorn’s username has 69 in it…

The disappointment on Nine’s face when Yai said he’s tired of love…

On the one hand, it’s understandable that Mangkorn is hurt by seeing that kiss. I feel for him, considering everything he’s dealing with. On the other hand, it’s not like Yai and Mangkorn were a couple. They only happened to have had sex twice. They were more fwb-ish than boyfriends. So, to be honest, there were no official strings attached even though there were feelings involved.

And here comes the backstory I vaguely remembered. The fact that Yai is wearing green and Mangkorn is wearing red even as kids… Well done.

And, just like I remembered, Yai dropped a necklace or bracelet or whatever it was. (The fact that the necklace/bracelet is red is something I could go into a whole rabbit hole about due to it being Mangkorn’s color and symbolizing the red thread of fate, etc., but that would be better suited for a separate post.)

So, Mangkorn has known this whole time that Yai was that boy from the past considering he’s holding that necklace/bracelet and thinking about Yai?

When Yai told Nine not to kiss him again because he sees Nine as a brother, I hesitated for a moment and then reminded myself that this isn’t Unknown…

I’m sorry, but salty Yai is my favorite taste. That toilet comment made me cackle.

The way Mangkorn is standing there all vulnerable… He’s finally communicating rather than beating around the bush. I’m so proud of him.

Yai is doing everything he can to push Mangkorn away, though. The way he’s stonewalling Mangkorn…

And now Yai knows Mangkorn was that boy from the past after getting that necklace/bracelet back.

Oh, fuck, when Mangkorn’s mother told Yai to think of her as another mother of his, I teared up thinking of what he just said by his own mother’s grave.

Omg, the emotions… I’m bawling. Stop doing this to me. (Please keep doing this to me!)

Side note: I’ve lost a lot of loved ones throughout my relatively short life (I’m only 34), most recently my dad 20 months ago. So every time I see a character missing their loved ones who are gone, I can’t help but get emotional.

I can’t believe neither Mangkorn nor Hong have ever thought about talking to their fathers before now. What if it could be solved that easily? All this drama had been for nothing.

I can’t believe Pong and Park had the most normal reaction to all of those who witnessed that kiss. Lmfao! They’re the comedic duo, but they were so chill there.

Another great episode. A lot more emotional than the previous ones for me, and I loved it. Hopefully, they can clear things up for real this time by actually communicating. Also, I’m still eagerly awaiting that scene where Mangkorn goes down on Yai in bed. I also have to say that I can’t wait to see the rivalry between Mangkorn and Nine that was shown in the preview for the next episode. I like shit like that.

#big dragon #big dragon the series #thai ql #thai bl #thai series #my shit #iq random thoughts

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jodilin65 · 9 years ago

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TUESDAY, MARCH 31, 2015 Making my final entry of the month to say that Tom might get a job promotion, but we don’t know yet for sure. It has to do with taking over the position of somebody who’s going on maternity leave, and we hope to learn something soon, one way or the other.

We went bike riding after he got home and ate, and now I’m listening to the sounds of the wind chimes because it is a bit breezy out there tonight. It’s supposed to be cool and rainy on Sunday, but you know how it usually works… there probably won’t be any rain.

MONDAY, MARCH 30, 2015 Just thought I would rant. Andy’s memory loss issues are so frustrating. It’s not just an occasional thing either; I constantly have to go over the same things with him, and it’s not always easy to be patient. It’s frustrating to tell him something because I know it’s a 50-50 chance he’ll remember it. It feels like I’m sending my words down a garbage disposal instead of into someone’s ears when I talk to him.

I believe that the 30 years he smoked pot likely contributed to his memory issues. However, I still wonder at times how much of it may be just plain selfishness and not caring enough to listen to the things I say. He asked me if I ever tried Nutrisystem’s food, so I searched my 2014 journal and found I had mentioned it 30 times. Thirty times! I also mentioned it to him on Ask and posted a picture when the food arrived on Facebook, which I know he saw. How many times can you tell someone the same thing before it sticks?

Not too long ago, I told him I was tired of the translation game where he’d post a picture with writing in another language for me to translate, and what does he do? He goes and posts a German quote and asks me to translate it.

He has been known in the past to be insensitive and even enjoy annoying, grossing out, and offending people, so what am I to think? It’s like how someone gets a prank phone call and my name is the first one they think of. However, I wasn’t always guilty, so maybe he isn’t always messing with me either, as I sometimes suspect. I suspect his doctor doesn’t understand the extent of his memory issues because I doubt he would come out and say, “By the way, Doc, I smoked weed for 30 years.”

Andy is one of those people I will always love and hate at the same time. Well, hate might be too strong a word, but I certainly have mixed emotions. A part of me wishes he didn’t have so much free time on his hands, but I know I would miss him if he suddenly weren’t around.

Later…

My period is now three weeks late, and I’m still wondering when, if ever, it’s going to show up. Tom and I both think I’ll get it sooner or later. I swear I feel these little pre-cramps, signaling that it’s about to begin, but then it never does. I hope there is nothing wrong with me, though neither of us thinks there is. I just had an exam not too long ago after all.

I’m just so tired of the long-drawn-out PMS phases. Nobody should have more than a few days to a week of PMS. Instead, I feel like I spend half my life PMSing.

Whenever I worry that something may kill me before I am old or before Tom dies, since I plan to go when he goes, I remind myself that the cursed don’t usually die young. If I’m right about being cursed throughout much of my life, then why would it kill me now? After all, if I’m dead, it can’t have its fun with me. This theory gives me a little hope that maybe if there is an afterlife, it truly is better than this life. If it weren’t, then why not just hurry up and kill me if it does harbor any hatred for me?

Although I’ve been a little better, death and dying are still on my mind too much. Too often, my mind plays out different scenarios of how the end may come. I worry that no matter how or when I die, I won’t go as peacefully as my parents and brother were said to have gone, and that I will suffer great agony in the end. And what if the afterlife is actually much, much worse?

While I still feel like I have many different things to look forward to in life, I also feel like life is one big waiting game and I’m just making the best of it until it ends. Technically, I suppose that’s all any of us can do.

When I’m in a gloomy mood, it’s easier to focus on the negative aspects of life, just like it’s easier to focus on the positive aspects when I’m in a better mood. His income is a great example of that. The most important thing in life is to be able to pay for the things you need. There is absolutely no doubt about that, and I meant it when I said that I would be grateful for just that much even if there was never any extra money. However, I can’t help but feel insulted for my husband and his year 2000 income. The average income is 50K these days, according to a chart I read that lists yearly averages from 1952 on up. So then why is my husband, who has worked very hard for so many years, making 32K without overtime? Twenty- and thirty-year-olds make twice as much, yet here he is busting his ass off for an income fit for 15 years ago. Even in Maricopa, he wasn’t making the national average. He was still 5-6 years behind even then. So what is he going to do, get paid an income fit for 2005 in 2025?

If I weren’t cursed with my schedule problem and was paid fairly, we could be making a total of 100K. Instead, we get a measly 32K. I’m just tired of being cheated when it comes to money. I should be getting disability benefits. I should have inherited a lot more than I did.

Life is never fair, he says. True, but that doesn’t mean I have to like it. I accept it. I expect it. But I definitely don’t like it.

Yes, my sleep disorder is one of my biggest curses, which sometimes gets me down. We rescheduled the ear doctor for later in the week, but there’s no way I can make it. I don’t feel bad for having to cancel because she did it to me, but it’s just one more thing I have to deal with. I still feel like all these appointments are having the cockroach effect where they keep breeding and multiplying. I’m hoping against hope that after I see my endo doc and have my foot followed up on, I can schedule appointments for both my eyes and ears, and catch a break over the summer.

I try to look at the good in my schedule-less life, although it is not always easy to do. Life would be more convenient if I were always on days, but then I would have to listen to the daytime noise about 20 days a month instead of about 10 days a month. Being on nights not only allows me to enjoy the peace and quiet, but it also allows me to go out exercising during the summer nights when it’s cooler.

I have been getting lazy again where my story is concerned. I always seem to be off to a good start, but then somewhere between 5K-10K words, I get tired of it.

Later…

Thought I’d start my entry while my food is cooling. Then I am going to eat and do some cleaning. After that’s done I will return to finish this entry. There really isn’t anything to update on, though. Once it’s cooler and traffic dies down around 9 or 10 this evening, I will go out walking.

In last night’s dream, the Kim that I briefly knew down in Arizona was responsible for committing some huge crime that somehow affected me along with many others. I was so pissed off that I threatened to kill her if she ever got out of prison and I was able to find her.

In another dream, Tom had his own apartment way up in a high-rise building. LOL, what’s up with that?

In yet another dream, I was at Valleyhead. Fun. :( I awoke in the dark parking lot in a van. Maybe I fell asleep after some of us were out somewhere and nobody wanted to wake me up. It was pitch black when I stepped out of the van. I couldn’t even see where the house was. I looked up toward the sky, trying to see if I could make out its roof against the sky but couldn’t. I knew it had rained recently and that there would be puddles scattered around the ground. I then realized I had on my nice new white slippers and that they would get filthy as I trekked through the muddy water.

Once inside the building, the sun was coming up and I looked at my bed longingly (the bottom bunk in a huge room), wishing I could return to sleep.

Instead, I went to shower with my slippers on in hopes of cleansing the mud from them.

When I was done, a blonde girl who might’ve been Maria raised her head from one of the upper bunks 2-3 bunks away from mine. She called to me in a hushed tone since most of the others were still asleep, and I walked over to her. My father was still alive in this dream apparently, because when she insisted that my dad and my brother left their glasses behind the last time they visited and that they were in the office, I said, ”I’m pretty sure my dad would’ve returned for the glasses by now, and my brother is dead, so that can’t be.”

For some reason, she seemed skeptical and I seemed offended, but then I turned to go through some important papers because I was getting ready to leave the place for good.

SUNDAY, MARCH 29, 2015 Well, we didn’t finish the painting yesterday, but it has been completed today. Next weekend, I plan to touch up spots that were missed with an artist’s brush. Some of the grooves were challenging to cover with the larger brush, particularly sections near the trim or ceiling. The drop cloths effectively protected the desk, washer, and dryer from paint, but we didn’t bother with the floor since it's due for replacement.

During a bike ride, the direct sunlight made it uncomfortably warm, so we didn’t stay out long. We rode down to the lake and fed the ducks.

I really wish they would ban those loud car stereos on the freeway once and for all. It’s frustrating that expressing an opinion seems difficult, yet disturbing the peace is tolerated.

In last night’s dream, we were vacationing in Hawaii. I may have had two dreams—one where we were considering moving there permanently. I enjoyed swimming in a pool and felt the same magical pull as our first visit. Tom didn't share the sentiment, so we decided not to move there.

In another scene, we admired the lush green grass of a lawn, a stark contrast to the drought-stricken area we're accustomed to. While out walking, Tom asked if we should explore a different area of Hawaii next time, to which I agreed.

We walked through a makeshift hotel where Tom amusedly commented on the proliferation of rooms. He helped a woman and her granddaughter with a gadget, delaying our plans slightly, which mildly annoyed me.

I just finished watching an episode of Forensic Files featuring a black Florida man who was tried and acquitted ten times for violent crimes before finally being convicted. It's frustratingly typical.

SATURDAY, MARCH 28, 2015 Tom hopes to finish the painting in the laundry room today, but life doesn’t always go according to plan, so we'll see.

The daytime weather has been beautiful, but it’s still chilly in the early mornings.

In one of last night’s dreams, I was staying in a large, two-story house with my sister and nieces. I occupied a cluttered bedroom with its own bathroom, a level of disarray my sister would never tolerate in real life. One night, I retired early before my nieces (Tammy was out somewhere).

The following morning, I asked them if they entered my room for any reason, but they denied it, though I could have sworn someone tiptoed in at some point.

In another dream, something was amiss with me, seemingly related to a medication I was taking rather than any underlying illness (hopefully not a warning sign!). I found myself in a large room with several people, and at one point, Mary G (now Mary D) approached me. She looked great, slim and trim with her hair pulled back in a long, thick wavy ponytail to her waist. She wore a summery dress and sandals with a 2 or 3-inch heel.

She approached me as if our real-life falling out hadn't occurred (over her use of me and her trust issues) and asked if everything was okay. I don't recall my reply, but I seemed to be crying as I responded. She mentioned something about either avoiding or reducing a certain medication, then walked away.

Later, I watched a prison documentary featuring her, though no such documentary existed in reality.

In the last dream, I held a small rabbit that bit me before it leaped out of my arms and started hopping away. A cat started chasing it, and I secretly hoped the cat would catch it for biting me.

Later…

The latest incident involves three individuals who attacked a white man on a subway simply for his opinion (or lack thereof) on Michael Brown. It's shameful that bystanders didn't intervene to help the victim but instead recorded the incident. Sadly, defending whites seems uncommon these days.

It's sickening. If they want acceptance in society, this isn't the way to achieve it. But many seem to accept these aggressive individuals who react violently to differing opinions.

Unfortunately, even if the perpetrators are caught, they might not be charged with the hate crime they should be. There are evident double standards in today's society. Blacks seem to get away with far too much while falsely claiming racism.

It's disheartening to witness the continued blaming of others and making excuses for their actions. The focus should be on taking responsibility for one's behavior.

I've encountered racism firsthand and heard numerous similar experiences. I could never hate someone for their race, but behavior is a different matter. I refuse to feel guilty for expressing negative feelings toward individuals or groups who cause harm.

I've learned that knowledge is power, and as long as I abide by blogging laws and avoid providing sensitive information or making direct threats, I'm within my rights to express my opinions.

I'll keep this entry private for my cousin Norma's sake, who inexplicably still sympathizes with these individuals. While I empathize with victims from the past, I refuse to condone violence as a means of seeking justice for historical injustices.

It's disheartening that some individuals resort to violence to advance in life. I'm frustrated by the prevalence of news about violent acts committed by certain groups.

I wish I could opt out of trending news, but to stay connected with loved ones on Facebook, I'm inundated with such content.

FRIDAY, MARCH 27, 2015 "When we laugh or scorn others who are different from us or who do things differently than we do, we are not only being mean, insensitive, and judgmental, but we are also being hypocritical in a sense, since we don’t want anybody laughing or judging us in return."

I completely resonate with the sentiment in the quote above. I often wonder what annoys me more: when people try to impose their beliefs on me or when they try to impose their interests on me.

Just when I thought this rat had stopped its random screaming, I was startled by it again last night. It caught me off guard enough that I yelled at it to shut up. Maybe it’s a game to the rat, and perhaps I should scream back? It’s both annoying and amusing, considering I've had rats since 1998, yet this behavior is still entirely new to me.

The other day, Tom mentioned that the room was spinning so badly when he got up that it took him a few attempts just to make it to the bathroom. His inner ear sometimes gets clogged up, and it was a while before he could even eat.

I slept kind of poorly because I kept waking up frequently, and one of those times was due to a sharp pain in the sole of my right foot.

I only recall a few seconds of last night’s dream. Once again, I found myself living with my mother (almost as bad as being chased by a monster), and our house was situated down a long winding driveway. At the end of the driveway, it went up a bit of a hill before descending into a clearing where the house stood, reminiscent of the location of the trailer in Auburn. However, instead of a dumpy old trailer, there was a large two-story house.

On a dark and rainy night, both my mother and I appeared relieved at the sight of the house. I remarked, "Ah, nothing like a warm bed awaiting us." Then, I looked at her and said, "Aren’t you glad to be able to go to bed now?" She nodded and then pressed a button on a remote, illuminating the kitchen lights.

THURSDAY, MARCH 26, 2015 Once again, I woke up with a scratchy throat, feeling almost as if there’s a dry spot in it. It won’t last long, but I just don’t understand it. I also keep feeling like my period is right around the corner, though it never comes. Despite sleeping well enough, I feel tired. My schedule shifted a whopping four hours, which is unusual for me—I usually only jump one or two. It wasn’t that I slept particularly long; rather, I was up very late last night. I just couldn’t sleep.

My toe might have oozed a bit during the night, so I soaked it in Epsom salt and decided to skip today’s walk. It still doesn’t hurt, though.

Yesterday, Tom and I went bike riding, and then I made us some pork chops when we got back to the house. Unfortunately, there was a lot of traffic at the time.

The weather is absolutely gorgeous now—neither too warm nor too cold, and perfectly dry.

Yesterday, the Forever in Blue Jeans figurines, along with the bronze statue, arrived. The erotic statue is okay, but I am more impressed with the others than I thought I would be. Even Tom likes them.

I’m recreating a collectibles chart in Word, adding little thumbnails of each collectible. Sometimes I just can’t remember who's who.

My weight is starting to become concerning. I usually don’t go to bed with a weight higher than 152 pounds before my periods. Last night, I was at 154.8. I managed to drop to around 153.4 before falling asleep, but I still woke up half a pound heavier than yesterday. It's only weight, right?

I know 2 pounds might not seem significant to most people, but for me, at my age and height, and considering I've remained within a pretty small weight range for years, it's troubling. I'm almost never under 147 or over 152. Some of it could be water weight, but the drastic fluctuations after eating suggest otherwise. I’ll definitely mention this to the doctor, as the constant water retention and super slow metabolism are really getting to me at times. I can’t seem to eat anything without gaining weight, not even an 80-calorie yogurt. I just doubt that she can help me any more than the ear doctor can.

I know technically my body wouldn’t gain weight it didn’t feel it needed. Like Tom says, my heart beats at the speed it needs to beat. However, since I do work out and I don’t overeat every single day, yet the weight hangs on, it's frustrating. I’ll have to find some way to finally reach acceptance and let my weight go wherever it’s meant to go if there’s truly nothing that can be done about it.

Next door continues to make two to three trips out a day, and I still can’t imagine where these people could be going so often seven days a week. Everyone else around us comes and goes zero to one time a day. At least I know there won’t be any projects going on during those 30 minutes to two hours that they’re out.

These landscapers are driving me insane like never before! Why are they doing this twice a day? They've been worse than ever, even during the winter. They won’t stop, and they can’t be drowned out. Joy obviously doesn’t care that we pay them hundreds of dollars each month. All she cares about is that everybody else complains if they’re not out there every day. I can’t believe people would actually want to listen to this every single day. The majority of them must be deafer than deaf. The equipment they use is so loud that I have to blast music or nature sounds to drown them out. They’re not even that close to the house, which shows how insanely loud they are. If they’re going to do this every day, I don’t understand why they don’t use quieter equipment. I also don’t understand why they feel the need to keep doing the same areas over and over every single day when other places do this once a week. There’s nothing about our plants and trees that grow faster than anyone else's. I’m just so sick and tired of hearing these things buzzing about every single day.

Today has turned out to be a really interesting day. Firstly, it was great to catch up with my sister yesterday. I had been worried about her as she has been feeling rather trapped and depressed. She’s highly allergic to the palm trees around her and has been unable to work not just because of allergies, but also because of other health problems, mostly concerning her lungs and heart. It’s sad because she was so excited about training to be a victim’s advocate, but that will have to wait. It seems that the only good thing she’s gotten out of Florida so far is the climate itself. Otherwise, she and Mark have had really bad luck so far. :(

She sent me a selfie, and she looks absolutely different. I wouldn’t recognize her. She’s gained weight, and her hair is half gray, half blond, much to my surprise. Tom thought she looked good, though, considering all she’s been through. Sometimes I still worry that she won’t make it much longer, but other times I am confident that she will.

The interesting part is that the lovely English actress Jenny Seagrove started following me on Twitter. I had a dream about her a few nights ago where my deceased mother sent me to live with her in London because the economy was bad. Anyway, I mentioned this to Jenny in a tweet and told her I had been a fan of hers since the '90s.

I actually went to see her in a horror movie with Andy in 1990 in Springfield, Massachusetts. It was called The Guardian. She was in her early 30s at the time. I liked both the movie and her, and even had a little crush on her for a while.

I haven’t been into celebrities since the '90s and see them as no more or less human than anybody else. In fact, I look down upon some of them and find them to be horrible role models for youngsters these days. I could walk by the most famous of celebrities right this second and not be any more fazed than if I walked by a total nobody. I admit I often roll my eyes at those who drool over celebrities as if they’re magical little gods. However, I can’t deny that I was quite flattered to find she followed me after I started following her. Had somebody told me this would happen over 20 years ago when I was having fun printing stills I made from her videos, which was then a relatively new thing, I would have laughed my ass off.

I guess I will watch what I say on Twitter, within reason, and curb my swearing and things like that, even though I don’t expect her to actually see most of my tweets. Also, even though I doubt she would read it, much less be offended if she did, I will not share the link to this blog post on Twitter either.

WEDNESDAY, MARCH 25, 2015 Although my toe stung and throbbed last night, I didn’t wake up with the achy toe I expected today. When the other doctor treated my toe, I woke up several times in pain. It just shows how much better this doctor is—she did a far better job.

It took me a few minutes to snip the bandage off this morning. I thought the toe would look kind of gross, but it doesn’t, and I’m not walking with a limp either. However, it doesn’t mean I should hit the treadmill just yet. I soaked it in Epsom salt and decided not to put a Band-Aid on it yet so I could let it air out for a while. Band-Aids can actually slow the healing process.

The doctor seemed really understanding that what happened last summer put a complex on me when it comes to all things medical. Even though I have improved immensely, the fears caused by such trauma don’t usually dissipate in just days or even weeks; it takes months. I still worry that my heart may race even on just 50 mcg. Living in fear is terrible. When nothing is actually happening to me, I worry that it will. However, I have no doubt that each month passing without incident will make it easier for me.

In last night’s dreams, my mother was still alive, and apparently, I was living with her. The economy was really bad, so she wanted to close up the house and have us go live somewhere else until the recession ended. She went to stay with a friend and then she sent me to the home of the actress Jenny Seagrove, LOL.

She had a huge house, and there were always tons of fun things to do in and around her house. She and I eventually became more than friends. She had a huge pool with a slide that ran down into another pool, which sort of wound around part of her property like a moat. Even though I had just taken a shower, the water was so beautiful that I wanted to take another swim.

Next thing I knew, Becky, my VH sister, was in the pool with me. She said, ”I’m always just a few minutes and one phone call away.” I was touched at how much she still cared about me and went to hug her. She stiffened up and kind of pushed me away, though. I thought it was a bit strange, but I was having too much fun to really care.

TUESDAY, MARCH 24, 2015 We were on our way to the ear specialist this morning when I realized I'd received a message earlier saying she’d called out for the day. Initially, I was annoyed that I hadn’t checked my messages before leaving the house. However, we decided to seize the opportunity and headed to Home Depot, where we picked up some more painting brushes and an 8’ strip of rainbow tape lighting.

After returning home, we had to rush out again in 20 minutes for the podiatrist, so this will be a rather quick entry.

My heart started racing yesterday when I sat down to watch a show and eat some crackers. My first thought was, oh no, you've got to be kidding me?! Then I experienced stomach pains followed by the runs. I'm hoping it was just something I ate that was bad (maybe the milk in the cereal I had earlier?).

Later…

Just got back from a little unexpected toe surgery. I mean, I knew she was going to do this; I just didn’t expect it to be today. Sensing my anxiety, she decided it would be best to just go ahead and get it over with, and I’m glad she did, even though I'm now swapping in lidocaine for pain as the numbness wears off. It's throbbing and stinging, just like last time.

Doctor M was great, and I already gave her a rave review on Yelp. She was very friendly, and very skinny too, LOL, like she never eats. I'd guess her to be somewhere in her 30s. She was blond, blue-eyed, and American, so I didn't have to deal with any funky accents. Her assistant was also American and very friendly.

She killed the root on the left side of the toe, so the ingrown toenail has only a 10% chance of growing back. This doctor was much better than that hotshot quack I used to see. She poured cold water with some chemical in it as she was numbing me, which made it easier. The other doctor just shot me up raw. This doctor said that was cruel. Yeah, it kinda was, LOL. She also used one of those tourniquets you tie on instead of the ring that the other doctor slipped on my toe.

Recovery could take a while, so I may be limping around for several days. No working out for me for a while either, so I gotta watch what I eat as my hypothyroidism hasn’t improved as much as I wish it would.

The chemical she used to burn the root may cause oozing at times because a blister forms afterward. I have to soak it in Epsom salt each day, and I have ibuprofen if the pain gets to me.

As for the fungus that’s in 4 of the nails… she said it’s a simple surface fungus (onychomycosis) and can be treated with an over-the-counter remedy. She said to make an appointment if it’s still present in 6 months or if the toe she worked on develops any problems. There’s always a risk of infection. I will have a follow-up appointment the day after I see my endo.

I keep hoping all these damn appointments will slow down soon, but it seems they never do. I still have to reschedule the ear specialist and get my eyes dealt with.

I had positive dreams for once, so that was nice. In one dream, we were staying at a hotel. I came back to the room after being out somewhere to find the housekeeper cleaning away, and then some guy said I won some expensive power tools and $2500 cash. I hope the cash win was a good sign for whenever we go to Reno, which may be a while due to the snow up in the mountains, and my toe.

MONDAY, MARCH 23, 2015 Tom and I have been tossing around the idea of one day doing a Euro trip where we would sweep through most of the countries in Europe. I couldn’t help but laugh at the thought of seeing Irene in Austria and Christiane in Germany, knowing full well they would mention it to Nane. Imagine what would be going through her mind! LMAO! Either way, it would be cool to visit my cyber friends over there—Adonis in the Netherlands, Mitch in Wales, and Christian in Norway. Not saying this will happen, but it’s a nice thought.

Yesterday, my throat felt a bit off and I felt a bit run down, too. I wrote it off to my never-ending PMS, but today I feel just fine, so I don’t know what that was all about. I only slept six hours, yet I feel more awake today than I did yesterday. The fact that menopause is setting in is pretty exciting! :)

I took a walk this morning, and it must have rained last night because the roads were wet. Sure enough, that damn flag is already wrapped around its pole, even though we paid extra for an add-on that’s supposed to prevent that.

It is so wonderful to be able to do simple things like walk around the block when Tom’s not home and not have to fear that my heart is going to start racing. I really hope my endocrinologist isn’t going to try to increase my dosage over 50 mcg when I see her in a few weeks. I realize I will never lose the extra weight I could stand to lose, but I don’t see how they can safely speed up my metabolism without putting me through the hell I went through last year. I don’t want to feel like shit just to look better.

Yesterday, we started painting the laundry room light blue. It is going to look so much better! It brightens it up tremendously. Going from brown paneling to light blue is like flicking a light switch on in that room. It just may take us a few days because the paint doesn’t adhere well to the slick paneling. The last owners had already whited out most of the house, so most of the place only needed one coat of paint, but this room is going to need two coats. This is the last of the raw paneling we will ever have to paint. Thank goodness!

Even without the paneling, this room is tough to paint. It’s small, but we have to go around doors, windows, and cabinets, as well as the washer and dryer. Tom is doing most of it because he is better at it than I am. It certainly helps to be taller when painting.

After this, all that will be left to paint are the bathrooms. This should be easier, although we do have to be careful when we go around the shower stalls, and painting around the toilets might be a bit of a challenge, too. That’s where my being small helps.

Gaudy or not, childish or not, I am having so much fun picking out future wall decals to stick on the newly painted walls. As most of you know, I already have a handful of wall stickers around the house—mostly flowers, dancers, skaters, gymnasts, and one strawberry rat with a black eye mixed in. :)

Currently, we have a white silhouette of a dancer in heels that is the largest decal at 72 inches stuck on the front door. To the sides of her are roses. On the opposite wall are purple flowers with butterflies as well as some hanging ivy.

In the kitchen, there are pink tulips and some butterflies.

The small section of wall across from the kitchen has a black silhouette of an eye, some butterflies, and some flowers stemming from the base. Those flowers are going to be replaced because I’m not happy with the way they came out. They are red and yellow-gold, which does not look good on a bold pink background. I intend to replace this with a black silhouette of a figure skater that is 31 inches tall.

Dotted along the hallway is a scattering of butterflies.

The master bedroom has pink and purple flowers plus butterflies. The master bathroom will eventually have pink flowers as well as a black silhouette of a gymnast. She will be sitting with one leg extended and her arms raised overhead. She is 36 inches long and 22 inches tall.

The pink rat lives on the door to the second bedroom. There are no decals yet in that room, but I was thinking of putting a purple gymnast above the closet that is 22 inches long and 13 inches tall. She is doing scissor splits in midair.

Once the second bathroom is painted, I was thinking of putting a smaller pair of gymnasts in there in blue. They are 13 inches wide and 10 inches tall.

The laundry room is going to have five 13-inch gymnasts in different poses. I decided to get them in dark purple so that they stand out against the blue paint. I have the option of getting multi-colors, but I thought that teal and lime might clash with the turquoise.

SUNDAY, MARCH 22, 2015 Woke up feeling tired. The period I was supposed to get on the ninth is getting closer, and we both agree that I definitely have signs of menopause setting in, but you have to have gone a whole year without it to be considered menopausal. I guess 51 is the average age for women in the US. It’s 44 for those in India. They’re lucky.

Really wish I knew why our rat, Cappy, randomly screams for no apparent reason at all. We've never had a rat do that before.

Yesterday was both relaxing and fun for us. We got things accomplished but still got to relax and enjoy ourselves.

We decided not to put the canopy over the swing because the swing is under the patio roof.

Tom had taken the flag down in front when it was windy, and the bracket broke off of the house in the back. He put the front flag back up, so the hummingbird and pink flowers are flying again. The cat and hydrangeas in the back will have to wait.

We went to Walmart, and later I came down with a sore throat, which I scalded with hot tea in case it was a cold trying to set in. Sure enough, my body fought it off. I feel fine today, just tired.

We decided we would alternate every other year between big trips and a major upgrade. That means that since we got me a new Mac and are doing a small trip to Reno this year, we can consider going to Florida next year. Then maybe we’ll make a major upgrade in 2017 and return to Hawaii in 2018. No guarantees, though.

SATURDAY, MARCH 21, 2015 I took proficiency tests in Spanish, Italian, and German. To my surprise, my German proficiency was higher than both my Spanish and Italian. I’m not sure whether to laugh or scream at that! I do question the accuracy of the tests since my Italian was only 1% higher than my Spanish. Despite the results, I still think Spanish is my best foreign language. However, I wouldn’t know this much German if it weren’t for Nane; I knew fewer than half a dozen words before 2010.

Due to the trash always stinking, I thought Tom was going to pick up a typical trashcan with a cover that you raise by stepping on a foot pedal when he went to Sam’s Club after work. Instead, I awoke to find a rather high-tech gadget in the kitchen that opened as soon as I walked by it. Then I found an email from dear hubby explaining:

"I know the garbage pail is not the one you saw and had in mind but let me explain. They had this electronic one right next to the other. They are the same size inside; this one is just not so oval-shaped. Also, this one was half the price so I decided that a house that has a robot vacuum and a talking assistant needed a motion-sensing garbage pail. The only thing that isn’t as nice is the way it closes. The other one kind of closed in slow motion but this one just drops shut."

I'm not sure I like having yet another thing that requires batteries, but it is still kind of cool.

I like how we can now see how many times our tweets have been viewed, though it’s hard to believe mine get that many views. Some of them get nearly 60 views, and I can’t help but wonder who all these people are who check my tweets out.

I had a series of dreams last night where one dream morphed into another. I was in a crowded courtroom where people were waiting for the judge. I walked out of the courtroom and saw a note just outside the door saying that no children under the age of eight were allowed inside.

Then I approached my treadmill, which was raised on some blocks, making the platform about three feet high. Some girl in heels hopped onto it, and then Andy got on behind her. Andy said something to the girl about not doing something (not going too fast?). The treadmill had controls alongside its platform as well as higher up, and I jokingly said, “Want me to turn it on? I can set it to 10 miles an hour.”

Then I was dusting the shelf of an old, dark closet when I heard the phone ring. I went to answer it, and the guy on the other end said he had been hired by Raj to find me. I asked how he found me and how much Raj paid him, and the guy said $3. Then the guy was standing in the room with me, and I was thinking to myself how easy it would be to rent a house from Raj if he had any to rent, if we were in his town and needed a place, even though I would probably wake up one morning after Tom left for work to find him standing by the bed with a hard-on.

FRIDAY, MARCH 20, 2015 I was trying to talk to a "dream person" in Spanish, but it just kept coming out in German. LOL.

I sat out on the swing yesterday and said hello to Bob. He was blowing pollen off his driveway. He mentioned that Virginia has a pinched nerve in her neck and needs to go to therapy next week but will probably be better by then.

He asked how Tom and I were doing, and I told him Tom’s been working overtime like crazy. Bob said that was a bummer, and I agreed, but added that we sure do like the extra money.

I mentioned that I felt like we have the ugliest lot on the circle, and he laughed, saying at least we have flowers and the camellias are doing well. He thinks the yellow flowers alongside the patio are African daisies.

The pink azaleas are starting to bloom in front. Those are my favorites. We also have red roses between our patio and his garage. I told him that if it were up to me, I would replace it all with white gravel because there are simply too many plants for such a tiny property. We’ve got cactus, aloe vera, and so much more.

I believe that everyone should be treated with fairness and equality, regardless of their background. It's frustrating to see cases where people feel justice isn't served equitably, such as in the episode of Forensic Files I watched. It featured a politician involved in a hit-and-run, and there was controversy over him receiving special treatment. It’s not uncommon for politicians to get special treatment due to their status, and this issue transcends race.

I sometimes feel society’s sense of good and bad, right and wrong, is skewed. For instance, I’ve worked hard to learn new languages, yet it often goes unrecognized. On the other hand, simpler achievements sometimes receive more praise. I know my husband appreciates my efforts, and that's what matters most.

I also struggle to understand the ongoing discrimination against the LGBTQ+ community, who simply seek equal rights. At the same time, it seems there is a lot of support for racial equality, which is necessary but complex. It's essential to acknowledge the historical and ongoing struggles faced by different communities without making broad generalizations.

Everyone deserves equal treatment and opportunities. Society needs to address issues of bias and inequality in a balanced and fair manner, recognizing that the fight for justice and equality is an ongoing process that requires understanding and compassion.

THURSDAY, MARCH 19, 2015 Telling people something once and having them forget may be just simple forgetfulness, but telling them over and over feels more like they don't care. It seems that way, anyway. Well, I give up on asking people to stop “liking” my cover pics on Facebook. Even though my cyberstalkers are a thing of the past, there’s always the potential for future ones, and Facebook is the one place I like to be private and selective, including keeping my friends' visibility limited. Yet, people are going to do what they want, so I just keep changing the pic until they stop “liking” it.

It has been noisy every single day this week. The residents haven’t been noisy, but the park sure has been. I don’t understand why they need to maintain the common areas in this section bit by bit when they used to do it in just one or two sessions. And why must they use the loudest equipment on the market? I know a lot of people are complaining about the same thing as spring sets in, and many hear more noise than I do (neighbors, dogs, gunshots, kids), but that doesn’t make the daily landscaping any less annoying to me. I don’t understand why the residents tolerate this any more than they do the noise of people breaking out their saws. Perhaps they are all deaf.

They have arrived. Yes, it’s official. We need to bomb this place soon because I saw the first spider of the year in the bathroom, and once I see one, they appear in a steady stream until winter. They’re not going to skip this house out of the goodness of their hearts.

I had a not-so-fun dream where Tom and I were facing homelessness. I then went down to my dentist’s office by myself and asked the dentist if she knew anybody who would give me a room in their house in exchange for me cleaning and doing their laundry. She told me I could just stay with her. The dream ended with me hugging her fiercely.

WEDNESDAY, MARCH 18, 2015 I put Hoodie in with Cappy, but sure enough, Cappy started screaming. So I separated them once again, and once again, I am contemplating getting rid of Cappy altogether. Why have I had such bad luck with rats in this state, except for two? I swear I will never get another rat again, just as I will never go on another diet. Diets work, mind you, but it helps not to have hypothyroidism, and it also helps not to be the kind of wimp I am when it comes to dealing with hunger. I like to eat when I’m hungry, and you often can’t do that on diets. So, working metabolism or not, fat I shall stay.

Now that Tom’s almost over his cold, we are going to go out for a quick walk real early this morning before he goes to work.

I have been hearing landscapers every day this week so far, and I wonder why. This is the park, not just the homeowners I’ve been hearing. I heard the park's landscapers twice on Monday and once yesterday. We don’t have falling leaves at this time of year, so I thought the daily leaf-sucking was over until the fall.

MONDAY, MARCH 16, 2015 I’ve been with my husband for over 20 years now, yet he still points out some very intelligent and enlightening facts. I was saying something about how people who go out of their way to either stand out or blend in often fail to be themselves. Tom then said that no matter how unique we may think we are, considering the billions of people in the world, we’re really not that unique. He definitely has a point there. Only 1 in about 10,000 people has my type of ear birth defect, but when you gather all those people up, that’s still quite a few. So I think that just because something may not be common, it doesn’t mean it’s all that unusual either. There really is no such thing as "normal." And even if you might be what some consider different, you’re really not that alone.

I agree, however, that certain stereotypes can get old, and therefore we sometimes strive to break those stereotypes. It annoys me when I see a picture of a married woman and man with a daughter and son. To me, that is so old-fashioned and stereotypical, especially with most kids being born to singles now and fewer women, married or not, having kids due to the pressure and the desire to have careers.

I haven’t been remembering much of my dreams lately. All I remember is a quick few seconds where I dreamed I entered a room and caught Raj masturbating. My jaw dropped in utter shock. He noticed that I had entered the room, but he didn’t stop. After standing there just staring at him in shock for several seconds, I quickly turned and left the room, not wanting him to think I was enjoying the show and perhaps wanted to join in.

Even though it’s still a decade too soon, I was thinking of the pros and cons of living in Hawaii when Tom retires. I still don’t think we’ll be able to afford it, but if we could afford to at least rent, would that really be a wise idea? I’m pretty sure that the only so-called adult communities they have there are apartments or condos, and anyone who knows me knows how much I hate living attached to others. Even those who are quiet seem noisy at times when you have nothing more than a single wall between you. It’s easy to think you’re as neighbor-cursed as I was in Connecticut and Arizona when you live attached to others.

If we could afford to at least rent a house, that in itself would have its pros and cons, just like owning this house does. I couldn’t paint the walls whatever color I felt like painting them, but we wouldn’t have to pay to fix things that broke. If we wanted to move in a hurry, rentals are easier to leave than houses. I know one thing for sure: I will never live with any landlord again. It annoyed the hell out of me when Jesse would just drop in on us unannounced as often as he did. Even if I were always on days, most of us would agree that’s a pretty rude thing to do. Renting from individuals has benefits that renting from agencies doesn’t. An individual is more likely to work with you if you’re having a tough time than an agency would be. Agencies will charge late fees no matter what, not caring that “punishing” you is punishing themselves as well in the end, since the more late fees they charge, the further in debt you get and the less likely you are to be able to pay rent in the future.

While it may still get too cold here in the winter, I love knowing that I’m almost as safe out on the streets at 3 a.m. as I am inside our house since I’m in an upscale, gated community. Bike riding or jogging around Maui or Lanai in the middle of the night might be fairly safe since there are only so many people there to begin with, but I don’t know how they treat dogs there. Do they see them as pets? Or do they just toss them outdoors and forget about them? I would think they would at least have some serious leash laws there, but who knows. It does seem that it’s mostly the rural areas that have a lot of loose dogs.

It’s a dream I don’t expect to happen. I think it’s much more likely that we will end up in Florida if we don’t stay here.

SUNDAY, MARCH 15, 2015 Tom slept most of the weekend because of his cold. Next weekend we’re really going to make a point of getting more things done around the house.

I now have a bit of a strange ache where my capped tooth is. Hopefully, it’s only because my gums are getting used to regular flossing. The floss on these angled sticks that help you get to the back teeth is awesome. That’s really all I need, although I did get some regular floss on a spool. It’s still hard to believe I don’t have any cavities because when I have something really cold or hot, I swear I feel like I have at least two cavities.

The weekend wasn’t a total bust. At one point, Tom mustered up enough energy to go to Walgreens, where we got some fun treats. Besides a few sugary treats, I got some incense, which I try not to get too often because of the smoke residue.

I also got some coconut body spray and a beautiful barrette that would’ve been the perfect size for putting my hair back had it not broken as soon as I got home.

The coolest thing I got was these metallic jewelry temporary tattoos. I thought they were raised stones that you stuck to the body at first. I didn’t realize they were temporary tattoos right away because the girl in the picture really looked like she was wearing gold and silver bracelets and necklaces. While some may consider it tacky, to me, they are the best temp tats I’ve ever had. They sure aren’t kidding when they say they’re temporary, though. They will look really cool at the pool.

I’ve been noticing underarm irritation and then realized when I was putting on deodorant earlier that it was Suave. No wonder I have irritation. My skin does not like Suave at all. Their hair and skin products are horrible. I was going through their bins of cheap samples at Walgreens—not the last time we were there but before that—and grabbed it thinking I would like sweet pea and violet-scented pits. I didn’t even check the brand. Time to go back to Secret.

I went out for my walk, and those same five cars were at the dog lady’s house. Again, I never heard the dog, but those kids definitely live there. The couple living there seems too young and healthy to need caregivers. Therefore, I doubt it’s the children of any caregivers. I think their daughter and two granddaughters live there. There might even be a young guy living there too, but from what I can tell, there are six people in that household.

Oh well. It doesn’t affect me directly, so I’m not going to say anything. Maybe they’re affiliated with the park somehow, and that’s how they, along with that contractor, can get away with some of the things they do. I still wonder why they’re here if they want kids living with them. Why not just stay in the mainstream in that case? Maybe the daughter and her kids ended up homeless or something, and they had no place else to go.

Dureen: Abused her child and then put that child into the hands of strangers (the state) when she could no longer deal with the problems her abuse created for that child.

Arthur: Allowed his wife to abuse and then give up on their child.

Larry: Turned his back on his little sister and then later stabbed her in her own back.

Me: Not likely to forgive or forget.

SATURDAY, MARCH 14, 2015 Had no problem with tonight’s walk. I wasn’t even aware of my heartbeat this time, and I definitely didn’t have any cramps. It was beautiful out in just a T-shirt and shorts. I'll need the AC for sure tomorrow. I already pulled off the heavy rose blanket and replaced it with the light purple zebra blanket.

Every time I pass by the house that Tom looked at on the other side of the circle, I’m so glad we don’t live close to it. There are five cars parked there along with a pretty big trailer, the kind you pull with a pickup. The carport is lit up like a football stadium with all the tape lighting they have. I’m surprised the mutt didn’t go off on me. I almost always see a car with a child seat in the back. If their kids and grandkids don’t live there, they sure spend a lot of time over there. Our immediate neighbors are comatose compared to them. There is almost always something going on over there when I pass by in the daytime, like barbecues and other activities. I’m learning that some of these people aren’t here for peace and quiet as much as they are here to be around people their own age. The lady who lives there, despite how many park rules she may be breaking, seems really nice. Attractive too, for an older lady.

Despite my dwindling anxiety and calmer pulse, I’m still not sleeping well every other night. Where I used to wake up only once or twice, now it’s a lot more often. I suspect my thyroid meds play a big part in it. I read that people who describe themselves as “good sleepers” can experience insomnia and frequent waking during the night.

Instead of having terrifying dreams about overdosing, I dreamt I was stuck in an apartment. I didn’t seem to know Tom for the first part of the dream. Andy once lived in the building and warned me that the walls were thin and the place was noisy. There were three floors, and I was glad to learn that there was an apartment available on the third floor so I wouldn’t have to have anybody above me.

At one point, I was talking through the ceiling to Joy, who was in the apartment above me, even though I was supposed to be on the top floor, about the rent payment that my mother, who was alive in the dream, gave me the money for.

Then Tom was there with me, and I was commenting on how one of the bedrooms had a wall that was squash-colored.

I was standing in another smaller bedroom with an angled wall, trying to figure out the best place to set up the old stereo. Placing it against the angled wall made it stick out too far, and I didn’t want to put it behind the door where it could get hit when the door was opened. The other side of the room had furniture taking up space.

“Dr. Smith,” an aging man, was to be my new doctor wherever this apartment building was located. The dream ended with me taking a dip in some strange-looking pond in a blue bikini.

Later…

Tom’s cold has been winding down, and he has been sleeping on and off. He’s coughing up a storm right now. As usual, his wife escaped catching it.

It kind of sucks right now with him sick and my schedule not being the greatest. The neighbors are probably wondering why we got such a nice new bench swing but never use it. Oh well. We should be here for at least another decade, and I’m sure the sun will shine when I’m on days here and there along the way.

We are going to Walgreens real late tonight just to get out, get some treats, and whatever.

One really cool thing is that they gave him a few LED lights at work that look like fluorescent lights. They would not only be great for the kitchen and last a lot longer, but those would have cost us hundreds of dollars, so we save money right there along with the electric bill since LEDs are so much more energy-efficient.

Cappy has been the shyest, least manageable rat we have ever had. I almost feel like we have a wild rat and not a rat that came from a pet store. I considered getting rid of him despite the risk of karma getting me for it, even though I don’t know what the hell I supposedly did to deserve what happened to me last summer. People get rats all the time as snake food.

But then we decided to separate them so I can let Hoodie out without Cappy hopping out too. I always leave the cage door open so that Hoodie can go back home when he’s ready to, but I can’t do that and expect Cappy to stay home. I will put the Hoodster in his cage from time to time so they can play together, and I might let them run around the master bathroom because it will be easier to coax Cappy into his cage from there.

Another thing we’re going to do is get strips of aluminum tape to wrap around the couch’s legs to keep them from going under there. That way, I can maybe let them loose in the living room like I usually do. It’s easy enough to scare them out from behind the desk, but not the couch. When I try to scare them out from under the couch, I only succeed in scaring them from one section to another because the couch is so huge. This won’t just be good for keeping the rats out, but when we get a kitten, it will be nice to know that it’s not going to get stuck under there until it’s bigger and litter box trained.

Did a survey that came in the mail on my primary care doctor, her staff, and the place itself.

FRIDAY, MARCH 13, 2015 Took a bath earlier in the garden tub. Not something I do very often as I prefer showers to baths, but it’s nice every now and then.

I decided not to do a sequel to the first book that I published on Amazon. I don’t want to have to keep referring to it as a reference for the sequel. The idea wore off of me anyway. Instead, I have started the stalker story I mentioned pondering and have written a few chapters.

As most people who know me know, I don’t follow a good 90% of the news. Just like most of us prefer to be around happy people, I prefer to read happy things. Reading the news often leaves me in anything but a good mood. Instead, it just deepens my disgust for humanity in general and convinces me even more that God is evil, and that the more we tell ourselves otherwise, the more we are living in a bubble of fantasy. Well, as far as I’m concerned, some bubbles are better off being popped.

Every now and then, a particular story fascinates me, like the Jodi Arias case. Whenever it’s a female killer, my curiosity is piqued. Call it morbid curiosity but I can’t help but follow their stories with fascination. It isn’t the act of murder itself that captivates my attention, but the person behind the act itself. As they say, anyone can kill under the right circumstances, but what made this seemingly ordinary person commit such a heinous crime? She may be narcissistic and she may be the jealous type, but other than that she seems to be rather “normal,” even articulate and a bit intelligent.

I still feel that she deserves to die for what she did. I know that the juror who held out did so because she felt that killing her would be an act of revenge. Okay, so technically that is exactly what it would be, but it would also be doing the right thing. At least in my book, it would be. I think that there are times when revenge is wrong and then there are times when resorting to the old Eye for an Eye concept is rather appropriate. On the other hand, she’s going to have a long depressing, miserable life ahead of her as life in prison might actually be worse of a punishment for her than death would have been.

Arias is unusual to me in a lot of ways. I totally believe that if she were suddenly a free woman (assuming nobody killed her but then again nobody killed Casey Anthony) she would not take the life of another human being. I think that most killers kill more than once and they don’t stop unless someone makes them stop. But I think Jodi is one of those rare exceptions. An interviewer commented about her being so stony-faced, and she said that she prefers to express her emotions in private, and that if she cried people would say her tears were fake, and I totally believe that one, especially that last part.

People were quick to say that she only agreed to be interviewed because she craves attention. While there may be a grain of truth to that, I wonder if she mostly did it to try to redeem herself after initially lying about killing Travis. There’s no way in hell I buy the self-defense story, but I do believe that Travis might’ve played with her head a bit. It may not have been deliberate. I think that in his confusion and being torn between his Faith and Jodi, he ended up jerking her around a bit with his insecurity and not being sure of what he wanted.

Another thing I question when I read printed material on her versus what actually comes out of her mouth, is just how much of the lies actually came from Jodi versus the media. I know the media. Whether or not you lie on behalf of yourself, the media will definitely take the honors at some point and be happy to do so for you. I have watched Jodi in several interviews, and once you set aside the self-defense bullshit, I think she speaks very well and is actually quite honest in many ways. I don’t know if I could have handled some of the interviews as well as she did. When she would be asked a question I would mentally place myself in her shoes and try to imagine how I would answer and I think I would have stumbled on a lot of those questions, not sure of what to say or what would be the best words to describe whatever came to mind. She fumbled on a few questions, but otherwise she did a pretty good job whether she was being honest or not.

Currently, there are a handful of inmates in Perryville Prison that I once knew from Estrella Jail. I had to laugh when I thought of Kim, who is in the Lumley Unit, which is where Jody is going. I can’t help but wonder if she’s excited at the thought of meeting her, LOL. I saw the video of what might be her cell, and I think it’s a lot nicer looking than Estrella. I was a little surprised to see porcelain sinks and toilets, though.

One woman, who did seven years there and wrote a book about her case, says Jodi’s going to be walking into a living hell. The Lumley Unit is a maximum-security unit (which would be totally appropriate for somebody like Kim who loved to abscond) and many of those women have nothing to lose. It is almost like being exempt from punishment for committing additional crimes. Especially those that don’t have any visitors or commissary to lose. Personally, if I was in that situation and somebody pissed me off bad enough or I felt they were that much of a threat to me and I knew I had nothing to lose, then why not get rid of the problem? If I wasn’t going to get in any more trouble for it than I would for blowing my nose into a Kleenex… why not? Not saying I would, but the thought would surely be there.

Anyway, the woman says that because she’s a high-profile case she will have some groupies and then there will be others that will want to put her in her place. The idea of somebody killing her is a nice thought, but that’s just not going to happen. I would be incredibly surprised if it did. Inmates just don’t go killing other inmates as often as one may be led to believe they do in movies. There are women in jail in prison who have killed children yet they survive.

Fifteen years ago, when I was in jail for a crime I did not commit before I was vindicated, there was a famous inmate in my section. Occasionally she was threatened, but for the most part, she was well-liked. She was incarcerated until a few years ago and we were friends for many years, keeping in touch through the mail. I eventually ended our friendship when I finally looked back on that so-called friendship and realized just how much she had used me over the years. I did so much for her just to be stabbed in the back in the end. She too, probably wouldn’t be dumb enough to commit the same crime, but during the first year of her freedom that we kept in touch, I did see traces of the old her shining through. She’s so addicted to shopping and material things and is so used to using people that she would get that money from anyone, even if it were from an abusive man similar to the one who helped get her locked up in the first place.

THURSDAY, MARCH 12, 2015 At just a little over five hours into my sleep, I had a horrible nightmare. In the dream, we got a prescription for my thyroid medication but they gave us too many pills. Not wanting to waste the money I thought I would suck on the “extras” for a few minutes, as funny as I know that sounds. After who knows how many “extras,” I realized that I might be in big trouble heart-wise and that I might even die because I had sucked on too many.

Unfortunately, this nightmare came right after watching a case of this guy who killed his wife while they were sleepwalking, and I couldn’t help but remember the two times in the trailer that I picked up the little notebook I used to keep by the bed, and then somehow managed to tear out a few pages before placing the notebook back on the shelf all without waking myself up. So naturally, I started getting paranoid and thinking what if… what if in my sleep (even though I’ve never been known to ever get out of bed), I downed some pills!

I got up and peed and saw that clearly none of my pills had been touched nor did I have a weird taste in my mouth. I was still freaked out enough about it to Skype Tom. I wished he had been home to verify that he hadn’t seen me going to the kitchen in my sleep even though I figured as much anyway.

After 10-20 minutes passed and I realized I would probably be dead by then if I had acted out my dream, I relaxed enough to fall back asleep. I just would have preferred to get up an hour and a half earlier than I did.

Tom still has a cold and was crashing when I was getting up so I didn’t get to see much of him. I showered, ate, threw on a load of laundry, checked in with people online, took my daily Dutch lesson, and then I went out for a walk. It was beautiful even though it was dark and slightly chilly. I missed being able to go out there alone without fear. My heart behaved, however. I only made two rounds around the circle in 10 minutes but it’s a start towards venturing out on my own the longer I go without incident. I think that once I pass the one-year anniversary of when I first ran into trouble with the levothyroxine, I will totally have it made. Just a little chest pain afterward, but I can't say whether it's connected to my heart or not. It could’ve been a lung or a muscle. It’s a concentrated, sharp cramp-like pain towards the left. It’s kind of above my breast but a little closer to the center of my chest than the center of the breast itself.

They’re talking about working Saturdays and Tom and I aren’t the least bit thrilled with this idea despite the fact that the money would be absolutely insane. The thing is that right now we need more time, not more money. But since the other employees there make so little, they’re all excited about the idea of the extra money.

Once upon a time, we had no money but plenty of free time. Now it’s just the opposite. Money is wonderful, but when you have no life to go with it, it gets a little old. There is still so much we want to do around the house, but who knows when we will have the time? Some of it I can do myself, but some things we want to do together. We prefer to work out together, for example, no matter how I’m feeling. But sometimes our schedules clash, or he gets sick, or he gets backed up in sleep and so I am on my own.

For now, I am so glad that the weather is warming up so that I can be outdoors more often whether I’m working out or not. Unless I have an appointment I’m usually only out on weekends, so being able to be outdoors more often keeps me from getting cabin fever even if I am a homebody and I love our big beautiful home.

Later…

Oh my god, this is so fucking funny! There was what I would describe as a “likable bitch” that I once knew on the old Kiwibox site about seven years ago (Amber). She was a rude, mean bully, but at the same time, she was actually a bit intelligent and mature for what was then a very young age. I remembered her first name and that she loves to rescue feral cats. Yeah, she was a strange one. She would treat people like shit but she sure loved animals. She would probably want to kick the crap out of me if she knew just what I sometimes fantasize about doing to Cappy. Really I’m sick of his timid, spastic nature!

Anyway, I Googled her name plus the words “feral cats” and was able to learn her last name. I always knew it began with an S, but that was all I knew. I couldn’t resist contacting her and slipping her the link to my blogger blog. Maybe she’ll want to reminisce a bit and read around some of the 2008 journals I have stored there, LOL.

WEDNESDAY, MARCH 11, 2015 We now have a beautiful bench swing! :-) Never attempt to assemble one of these yourself. It really helps to have two people. It took us over an hour to assemble it. Tom didn’t get home until after 5 PM so we kind of had to hurry. As we were finishing up, both the light and the temperature were dropping fast.

I was the first one to sit on it and go crashing into the side of the house, LOL. We definitely need to pull it out a little way. The patio is long and narrow and I didn’t want to pull it out so far as to not be able to walk up and down it easily, but we may have to. Or maybe we will turn it the other direction. Tomorrow I will take a picture of it and share it on Twitter.

This weekend we may be looking at having to run the AC in the late afternoon because we're going to hit the 80s for the first time this year.

Andy's memory loss issues continue to frustrate and annoy me. I still believe they are real and that he’s not just messing with me. Part of it may be due to his own selfish nature which he himself admits. The guy loves to be the center of attention. He loves to talk but not to listen, and has told me that he often won’t bother to listen to a neighbor’s voice messages because she is lonely, desperate for friends, and rambles on and on. So he himself has admitted to being selfish. He definitely doesn’t care so much about what’s going on with others as much as he cares about telling others what’s going on with him. But even so, I think there’s something else going on that his doctor is unaware of.

He told me that his doctor told him that memory loss is normal with age. This is true, but come on! Most of the people I know around his age or older aren’t even close to this forgetful. I wonder if the doctor understands just HOW forgetful he truly is. If Andy didn’t go into that much detail, then his doctor may not understand the extent of it. “I’m forgetful lately” can mean any number of things. Selfish or not, former pothead or not, he just seems way too forgetful for his age. I agree with Tom in that he didn’t display any symptoms of early dementia when he was here, so I don’t know what’s causing his memory to be so bad. Maybe it’s a combination of things.

I know I sound just as selfish by complaining about it and saying that it gets old. I just try not to complain too much to him because I know he takes it personally, and I would not want him to do that. Not unless he ever came out and said that he doesn’t care to listen to the things I say, and I don’t expect that to happen. Still, even though I understand that it’s not his fault, I don’t want to offend him by bitching about it too much. My problem is that I’m a very impatient person and that makes it hard for me to deal with people I have to keep repeating myself to over and over again. I know it’s a horrible trait to have, but people who are forgetful or who are slow in any way are a bit hard for me to tolerate. I don’t know why I’m like that, especially if they truly can’t help themselves, but I am. I just don’t have the patience for things like forgetfulness, stupidity and immaturity. I don’t expect you to be a rocket scientist who always catches on with lightning speed, but still…

Just yesterday he was once again telling me that it wasn’t that he didn’t want to keep current with my journal, it’s that he hates to read, and once again I told him to stop reading and start listening, reminding him that he can use a text to speech reader. I was thinking to myself, wow, how could he forget that? Yet he was genuinely surprised, as if he’d never heard this before, and even told me that he never knew that he could just use a reader. I reminded him that I have suggested this many times and that each time he has told me that those “mechanical voices” creep him out. I have assured him that they have many natural-sounding voices these days.

Truthfully, I suspect he’s just not that excited about following my journal regularly, even though he says he’s busy and hates to read. I think he may be afraid it would hurt my feelings if he said it was that as well as being busy and hating to read. In all honesty, if this truly was the case, his telling me so wouldn’t faze me any more than if somebody told me they had a ham and cheese sandwich for lunch the other day. I’m going to write whether people read it or not. I have been writing long before the Internet existed. His Facebook obsession and his not liking to read probably is the main reason though. I’m amazed he can’t even stand to read the news.

Later…

Poor hubby and sis. Hubby has a bad cold and Sis is trying to stay out of the hospital. They’re trying a new antibiotic on her in hopes of fighting the infection she’s had, but she may end up in the hospital anyway as much as she’s been trying to stay out of it. One can only suffer for so long. As long as she stays out of my dreams unless it’s in a good way! If I have a bad dream about her that more than likely means that something is going on that’s not good.

My immune system is just the opposite. I not only won’t catch the cold Tom has, but my immune system is so good that it even kills things it shouldn’t be killing, like my thyroid gland.

Tom’s legs are sore from all the squatting he did when we were putting together the swing, but because I work out regularly enough I am able to squat, bend, jump and run as often as I need to.

We did end up getting a little rain early in the morning but neither of us knows if it went on into the day because he works in a windowless warehouse and I slept all day, LOL.

TUESDAY, MARCH 10, 2015 Well, here’s a creepy coincidence. I got a missed call and then a hang-up message from a landline in Redding. My first thought was Raj because that’s where he is right now. I double-checked on Facebook and my phone number is available only to me. I sent him a message about it wanting to see if he would confirm or deny that he called and he didn’t do either one. So I called the number and got this horrible screeching sound like it might’ve been a TTY or something. I then asked Raj if he called or not and he said he did not have my number and to please call him or give him the number. LOL, really, this idiot is totally clueless. My guess is that it doesn’t have anything to do with Raj. If it did I think he would have left a message.

As I’ve said before, the money is great, but I sure wish Tom were home more often, especially today. The bench swing is sitting out there waiting to be put together. He thought he would get home around 4:00 but he’s not going to get home until 5:30. It’s kind of cloudy out there and the lighting isn’t great.

Sure enough, they canceled the rain they said we would get tomorrow. I doubt it will rain again until the fall. I slept better last night, though I felt a bit short of breath before I fell asleep. This made me a bit anxious because I had that before the medication started affecting my heart and anxiety levels. I’m not as bad as before but I still get a bit apprehensive whenever I feel a little off. I’m still doing okay, though, and each week that I continue to do well restores my peace of mind.

I still don’t feel comfortable bike riding alone unless it’s just around the circle and he’s home at that time, but I feel more confident about walking. This disease has been controlling me and keeping me from enjoying exercising outdoors at times I may want to do so when Tom is not around or is asleep. Well, I’m determined not to let it control me any longer! I mean I try to exercise when he’s available to do so as well anyway so that we can motivate and encourage each other. He has wanted to get more active and it’s more fun to have a workout buddy so I try to plan around him anyway. If our schedules clash I want to be able to go out there myself without worrying what my heart may do.

sighs with frustration I definitely don’t miss being broke but if my only two choices were to be broke or to have health problems, I would just go back to being broke. Poverty brought me a lot of stress and anxiety, don’t get me wrong, but it was a different kind of stress and anxiety than my health issues have brought me. On the bright side, it is still looking like as long as I don’t go over 50 mcgs I shouldn’t have any problems at all. My heart will sometimes race at least a little bit, but I’ve always had tachycardia.

MONDAY, MARCH 9, 2015 Ha ha ha! No need to wonder if I should delete Raj on Facebook because he took the honors himself and deleted me after I pulled what he no doubt considered a very scary and nasty joke on him. Whenever I’d mention Tina he would always seem to change the subject and act all annoyed. So when he decided to annoy me in return last night with more hopes of getting me between the sheets in his hotel room in May when he comes to Sacramento, I told him I talked to Tina and that she sounds wonderful, ha ha ha. Haven’t heard from him since. That’s okay. He obviously didn’t want to be a friend but just a fuck buddy on the side. No chance!

I have been sleeping shittier than shitty. I wonder if it is somehow connected to my thyroid medication. I keep waking up. I just can’t stay asleep. I must’ve woken up nearly a dozen times. Most of the time it’s just for a second, like long enough to look at the clock and then I fall back asleep. Lately, though, I’m not only waking up more often but once or twice it takes me more than just a few seconds to fall back asleep. Like I’m just about contemplating getting up and then I end up falling back asleep.

I dreamed that Tom lost his job, and then a character in my book was laughing at something I said. The first dream was definitely disturbing enough to keep me up for a while. It seemed like it was November in the dream and I was saying that I didn’t think things would get better until April. It also seems like we were looking at losing the house.

In reality, we would be okay for many months due to our savings if they let him go, which I assume will be at some point like almost all jobs do, but just how fast can an aging white man get a job these days in NorCal? Either way, I refuse to ever again be God’s designated little poor-ass bum. My husband works hard and I’m not going to let any cruel, evil God reduce him to welfare status as a reward for all his fine efforts.

I thought our bench swing was coming today but it’s actually coming tomorrow. The thing that’s coming today is Tom’s plastic drawers. This way he can organize some stuff that he wants to be able to get at quickly and easily, but without cluttering the place.

SUNDAY, MARCH 8, 2015 I now have my old keyboard back. OMG, is it way better! Chiclet keys really suck. Even my nails that weren’t too long were getting caught underneath them.

I’m also using a 19” monitor that they gave him at work. It is definitely easier to see things, but I have to wear my single-vision glasses for a screen this size. Bigger screens are more helpful when I’m in my word processor because I like to display two pages at a time side-by-side. It’s great for viewing large pictures as well.

If I got a 30” monitor and stronger bifocals and looked through the top part of my glasses, I might be able to push the monitor toward the back of the desk instead of close to the front edge of the desk where I have this monitor right now, but I don’t know that I would be able to view such a large screen in just half of the glasses.

Somebody asked me if I thought it was wrong for this guy to depend on his wife to take care of their online shopping needs. Who am I to judge how others live? Every couple has their own routine. Where I can depend on Tom for paid bills and rides, he can depend on me for a clean house, clean laundry, clean pets and a handful of other things. Is that “wrong?” No, it’s not. It’s what works for us. Where one of us lacks, the other usually makes up for and there’s nothing wrong with that. So to say this woman is “wrong” for doing the online shopping or the guy is “wrong” for not doing any of it seems pretty pointless to me as long as they both agree to the way things are set up between them. As long as they get their needs met, that’s all that matters.

Tomorrow our new bench swing arrives… Yes! I’m looking very forward to that.

For a while now I’ve been getting various story ideas but nothing that would really scream… “write me!” Last night, however, I got an idea that I think I’m actually going to start putting to print sometime today. I was thinking that a woman could be cyberstalked and that it could turn out to be her lover. If anybody has experience with being stalked, it’s me, only this woman will get it a lot worse than I ever did. This woman’s stalker will be intelligent instead of crazy and so she will be able to come up with more elaborate schemes.

SATURDAY, MARCH 7, 2015 I slept kind of late today. I had a horrible PMS backache but Tom rubbed it out in just a few minutes. I’m glad he was home and awake so I didn’t have to take an ibuprofen.

He did some weeding around the patio so that area will be nicer looking when our new bench swing arrives.

Gonna switch from the WaterPik to just old-fashioned flossing. Now that she showed me a trick to make it easier to get at the back teeth, I think it would be easier to just do that. Besides, that’s supposed to be better than the WaterPik as well as sticks because it gets the contact areas that the other things can’t get.

I gel-polished my nails and held my hands out in the sunlight to set it. So now my nails are a very vivid shade of electric blue.

We went for a bike ride and it was a little warm in the sunlight. Too warm for running but okay for biking because you feel like you have the fan on you when you’re moving so fast through the air. Going uphill is obviously not as fast, though. His heart rate was 96 when we got back after riding a little over a mile and a half for 14 minutes, and my spastic heart was 140.

Going to make what’s about the closest I come to a homemade meal since cooking isn’t my thing. I got some lightly breaded tilapia fillets that you can either bake or throw in a skillet. I’m going to bake them along with some potatoes and add a salad as well. It may not be the healthiest thing, but it sure beats things like bacon, eggs and pancakes.

My dreams were very quick and vague last night. I was riding in a pickup with some guy in the desert, and some woman was singing a country song on the radio. Part of the lyrics said, “Close your eyes and watch the sunset.” LOL

When we got out of the truck there was some kind of bumper sticker saying something about him being stupid. That doesn’t surprise me, I thought sarcastically to myself, and I really seemed to be embarrassed for this guy. He was a dumb and ugly guy who seemed to think he was very intelligent and very handsome as well.

Then I was alone in what was supposedly a haunted house, and Tom was working for some radio station.

FRIDAY, MARCH 6, 2015 It’s a totally gorgeous day out there today. I have the windows open to bring in some fresh air.

I almost called Alexa Rosie and asked her to give me the weather for tomorrow. LOL, I can’t keep my slaves straight. Alexa has been an absolutely wonderful assistant. Well, they both have.

Still not so sure about Raj. He’s not a bad guy and he hasn’t been the pest I thought he might be and so I don’t want to dump the guy and hurt his feelings or anything like that. But I don’t understand this crush that’s been going on ever since I was in Oregon. It makes me wonder how many other women and men might have had crushes on me that I have briefly known in life but never knew about. What I don’t get is how he can still feel the same way. My looks were just about starting to go downhill around the time we left Arizona for Oregon, but not like they are now. I was still relatively young in my late 30s.

I’m flattered when anybody complements me, but I don’t like how he always asks me for pictures and how he seems to be very gung-ho on the idea of us getting together for a tumble between sheets when he comes to Sacramento for a convention in May, because that’s never going to happen. I’m sorry that Indian marriages are arranged and that he may never have been in lust or in love with his wife Tina, and I’m sorry if he’s having a middle-aged crisis, and I understand that sometimes we all want a fresh cup of tea even if we’re still content with the old one. But he and I are never going to get together. I wouldn’t mind meeting him along with Tom in a restaurant or something, but he is never going to get me alone. I have made this clear to him in a way that I hope will be comprehensible enough despite his shitty English, but without hurting the guy’s feelings. Again, I appreciate his compliments and all that, and while he can look, he certainly can never touch.

I’m not going to hide this entry from the public either because it contains nothing that I haven’t told him directly. He doesn’t read my blog, though, because he can’t read or write English very well at all.

He’s in Redding right now because his sister’s friend is attending a funeral and I guess he is supporting her. Whenever I ask about Tina he seems to get annoyed, and Tina doesn’t seem to have her own Facebook account. This doesn’t surprise me. The Tina I knew didn’t seem like the type to be into any kind of social network.

Here’s something that is both funny and frustrating and that’s how I keep trying to turn him off but haven’t been able to do so as of yet. I know all I have to do is just never contact him again, and I will if it comes down to it, but since he hasn’t harmed me in any way I see no point in taking such measures at this time. Like most people, I tend to look bigger in my photographs than in person. So I put on a baggy old shirt, had my hair trashed and no makeup on whatsoever, and took a selfie for him. But even that was oh-so-gorgeous, haha. The guy’s either blind or desperate. He insists I look 35. I think I look right around my age, though a lot of people do seem to think I’m in my late 30s or so. When we were talking to the realtor when we came to look at this house, she stopped in mid-sentence, looked at me, and said, “Are you sure you meet the age requirements? You look 37 years old.”

Anyway, Raj is a bit frustrating and annoying but he is also funny at times too, so I will allow him to remain in my world at least for now.

I exchanged Facebook voice messages with my sister. She isn’t better yet. :( She is struggling to remain out of the hospital.

THURSDAY, MARCH 5, 2015 My dentist appointment went great yesterday. I really thought she was going to come out and tell me that I had two or three cavities but I don’t have any! I do have an old filling that needs to be replaced but she’s not going to do that until September when I have my next cleaning. I also had a bit of tartar and plaque buildup since it has been a year since I’ve been to the dentist due to having to deal with the health scare I had last summer.

I’m going back in today at the same time, 5 PM, and she is going to seal 6 teeth that are most prone to cavities and fissures. She is also going to remove my bottom retainer that is in back of the i-teeth. She only charges $150 for whitening because you do it at home. I’m going to hold off on that right now, though, because I would rather deal with what’s important and what’s going to give me added comfort as opposed to cosmetic stuff that just makes you look better. My teeth aren’t that yellow anyway. I don’t smoke and I only have 1 cup of coffee a day.

The 6 teeth that she is going to seal will be $34 apiece but worth it, and getting that retainer removed will make it so much easier to clean in that area, too. I had a lot of buildup in that area. I even had some shit on the retainer itself.

Somebody canceled their 5 o’clock appointment for today so it works out perfectly for us. It will be no problem for my schedule, and Tom won’t have to miss any work.

I saw Shannon there but this time it was Holly that did my cleaning. Janet still works at the desk so it’s pretty much the same staff even though it has been a year since I’ve been there.

A couple of hours before we left for the appointment I went for a bike ride and my heart went a little wild on me. I wasn’t scared, though, probably because Tom was home. I did five rounds around the circle, which equates to 1 mile. My pulse probably got close to 150, so it seemed a bit extreme but didn’t last too long.

After the dentist, we walked across the parking lot to some place in which I forgot the name of and ordered burgers, fries and malts to take home with us. After eating my pulse went up again. Not like when I was riding the bike earlier, but since my body isn’t used to taking in so many calories at once since I don’t eat like that very often, that’s why it raced a little bit for a while. Tom said his heart was elevated, too. Still, I probably had a pocket flare.

Just when I thought UPS wasn’t going to make it on time yesterday, they delivered my dusting gloves at something like three minutes after 8 PM. I got two pairs and they fit well and are nice and soft and fuzzy. Not sure that dusting will go any faster this way, but they definitely keep your hands warm.

Later…

Oh, the adventures of the Dwight D Eisenhower freeway. Today’s freeway adventures were finger-flipping good, you could say. :-)

This guy in front of us was creeping and annoying the hell out of us. So we annoyed him back by riding his tail. He stuck his hand out his window and flipped us off. Then as he was exiting the off-ramp we bid each other farewell by flipping each other off. Tom and I laughed like high school kids, ha ha ha.

Anyway, I am now retainer-free! It feels weird being able to run my tongue along the inside of my bottom i-teeth after 14 years. They may or may not shift, but I think they will at least somewhat. It doesn’t take long. I remember from when I had removable retainers. I had a pink glitter retainer up top and a tie-dye retainer on the bottom. Teeth catch on fast, so I’m sure they already know that the restraints are gone and now they’re free to either stick around or take a little walk. The most important thing is how much easier it’s going to be to keep that area clean.

My dentist has a Hawaiian-themed office and today I wore a skirt and top that I got in Maui. As she was leading me to the exam room I said “Your Hawaiian-themed office now has a Hawaiian-themed patient. She thought it was so cute that she said she would take my picture if she had a camera, LOL.

She’s been to Maui too, and she also went on a submarine tour just like we did, catamaran sailing, and to a luau. I told her I would love to live there someday, but I’m not sure that we will.

Getting the six sealants done and having the retainer removed was quick and painless. She is definitely the best dentist I ever had and such a sweet lady, too. Having the sealants done was a lot like having cavities filled only without the drilling. They just air dry the teeth, dab on the sealant, then cure it with ultraviolet light. The only time she broke out that nasty drill was to separate the epoxy holding the retainer to the two teeth that it was cemented to. It was funny because both sides let go at the same time and they were like, where did it go? Apparently, it got sucked up by the vacuum that the assistant had in my mouth. It was amazing how fast she got that thing out. After that, she smoothed the anchor teeth.

Tom paid Janet while I was in the room and I was surprised to learn that he only had to pay $60. We thought it was going to be over $200.

Later…

So Travis Alexander got death while Jodi Arias got life. I knew this would happen, too. I don’t know which state is more twisted when it comes to its laws, Arizona or Texas. Arizona loves to fail to do the right thing, that’s for sure. I wouldn’t be the least bit surprised if she walked in 25 years, even sooner if she was black.

Why is it that the more serious the crime, the lighter the sentence? I just don’t understand how assault can be considered a misdemeanor while some things we say and write are considered a felony. Is it just me, or does this seem completely backward?

Tammy left a voice message and it was almost chilling to listen to. Not just sad because she’s going through hell, but chilling because she sounded exactly like she did in the dream. I mean exactly. I wish she could feel as good as I’ve been feeling lately. She is battling a really bad infection and struggling to breathe. Everything else in her life is going well and she is grateful to Sarah for her help around the place and all that, but her life would be a whole lot better if she weren’t suffering so much.

I just feel so bad and so helpless, too. I know she wouldn’t want me to feel this way, and that she is happy for me and the way things have gotten better for me after the hell I went through thanks to Hashimoto’s. I just wish I could send some of this good health her way. Even though she’s never been as into fitness as I am, I’m sure she would love to be able to run a few miles and then admire the slender, muscular calves in the mirror that she would be rewarded with. I’m sure she wishes she could do a lot of things right now.

WEDNESDAY, MARCH 4, 2015 Tom’s reward for making employee of the month is $100 and a $25 Walmart card. They also gave him a certificate of excellence.

Andy said he’s gotten a warning on Ask about violating the TOS as well. We jokingly call each other names every now and then like dumbshit and stuff like that and I guess they don’t realize that we’re just two good friends messing around with each other in a playful way. I wondered if it was an automated thing but he doesn’t think so.

A couple of days ago I moved the rats into the big cage. I was a little worried that Cappy would escape but he hasn’t, so that’s good. I’m totally disappointed with both these rats that we have now and I am totally done with rats once they die. This is one of those cases where I’m glad rats only live a couple of years. Although he isn’t friendly and affectionate, Hoodie is at least manageable. Cappy, on the other hand, is so damn timid that it’s a fight just to be able to pick him up.

Why can’t I go to bed and not open my eyes again until it is time to get up? I swear I woke up like six different times during the night, and one time I didn’t think I would be able to get back to sleep.

It’s been surprisingly quiet for such a pleasant day. Today is actually going to be just okay, but the next several days are going to be gorgeous.

I was thinking of doing a sequel to Evil Amongst the Evergreens. Like maybe Evil Amongst the Palm Trees. I will have to go back and skim through Evergreens because it was five years ago that I wrote that book and I can’t remember every single detail.

TUESDAY, MARCH 3, 2015 Tom made Employee of the Month! He doesn’t know what his reward is going to be yet but he should find out today. I’m sure that whatever it is will be a lot less than he actually deserves. He has come to realize that there’s no hope of moving up anymore at this place unless he agrees to travel and that’s something that he would never want to do even if he was single. The most important thing is that we have more than enough money to live on. He makes more than we need and we no longer live paycheck to paycheck. After the hell we went through in the past, that is plenty good enough for us. So he isn’t going to look elsewhere at this time.

When I was logging into my Ask account I got a pop-up saying that I repeatedly violated their TOS and that I need to stop immediately or else my account will be suspended. What TOS am I supposedly violating???

Tomorrow I have to go to the dentist for the first time in about a year. I’m guessing I have three cavities. I’m going to ask her about getting my bottom retainer removed. I’m also going to ask her about sealing my teeth since I am so prone to cavities no matter what I do.

Woke up several times during the night as I always do, but this time it wasn’t with back pain so that’s good.

Not much in the way of dreams that I can remember. I know I had a lot more dreams than I’m able to remember. It’s like there are scattered bits and pieces that are just barely within the realm of my memory. But I just can’t quite grasp them. It seems I was at the beach in one dream.

Nicer weather means more Bob. I can hear him bopping around the garage more often. Those subtle little sounds are easy enough to drown out, but I dread the day he breaks out that damn saw of his once again. And his hammer, and his sledgehammer, and his sander, and all the other shit that he uses as instruments of torture against my peace when I’m trying to concentrate on things.

Later…

I have been searching and searching my brain for story ideas but I just can't come up with anything. Therefore, I guess I might as well write about nonfiction instead. How about Maliheh? Ever since I had that dream about breaking into her place she has been on my mind. I keep racking my brains as to why she dropped out of my life without a single word as to why, and all I can think of are three possibilities.

What I don't get is why she didn't have the guts to tell me in her own words whatever it was. It’s not like her to be a wimp like that. The Maliheh that I briefly knew was very outspoken and not afraid to speak her mind. For some reason, however, she must have been afraid of me in the end because the blunt, direct Maliheh who always had the guts to speak up for herself failed to utter a word on her way out of my life.

Again, I can only think of three possibilities as to why. All of them make sense but they don't make sense at the same time they make sense, if that makes any sense, LOL. My first guess is that she befriended me under false pretenses, wanting to get her name out of my story. But then the more I thought about it the more I realized she never needed to falsely befriend me since all she had to do was ask. Her being my friend or not being my friend would not have changed whether or not I was going to use her name in my story. She asked me to change the name of the character that was based on her and I did. I still would have done this even if she said, “I don't want a friendship with you… I don't ever want to talk to you again after I tell you this… I just want you to not use my name in your story.”

That's all she needed to do. So now that befriending me just to get her name out of the story fails to make sense after thinking that it does make sense, this brings me to my next theory. Maybe she grew uncomfortable with the idea of knowing that I was attracted to her. But then again, that one doesn't make sense either. If my attraction for her really bothered her, why would she have been my friend for as long as she was? Who the hell is friends with somebody for two years who is oh so uncomfortable with knowing that the person has this harmless little crush on them?

And so that brought me to theory number three. This one – after analyzing it many different ways – makes the most sense of all. Only she knows the truth, and I will never know it too unless she contacts me and shares it with me. Then again, even if she did, there's no trust there anymore. She killed whatever trust we had built up by dumping me like she did. So no matter what she says, I'm not going to buy it. But here goes anyway… I think she came to have feelings for me which increased more and more over the months and it eventually got to be too much for her. She knew we never would or could be together and that we probably would never even see each other and so I think that once she realized the cyber relationship wasn't enough for her, she finally let go for good. This one makes more sense than an increasing discomfort of my being attracted to her. I think that she started off not having any feelings for me, but that they increased over time. It is much more likely for somebody's feelings to increase over time than for them to experience a growing feeling of discomfort over somebody liking them. Not unless the person started doing things to make them uneasy, anyway, and what could I have done… drive cross country and start following her? The way I treated her never changed from the time we first started talking in 2010 to when she dropped out of my life. So that's why I don't think I made her uncomfortable in any way or that it was anything that I said or did. I think it was all on her and that she just couldn't control or deal with her own personal feelings. I just don't understand why she didn't tell me this on her way out of my life. What did she think I would do to her for it, throw darts at her all the way from California?

Even if I may not believe what she tells me, I would still really love to hear an explanation from her just out of sheer curiosity. Then she can go about her merry way again because I definitely would never want to be friends with her again in the future. Again, no trust there.

MONDAY, MARCH 2, 2015 Finally got a message from Tammy yesterday. She takes over half a dozen medications and they had to stop four of them in order to treat her allergies and that really backfired from what she said. She’s had shots and allergy testing and is severely allergic to a lot of things that grow in Florida. She’s been battling all kinds of infections, too. Unfortunately, this has setback her training and her job so she is trying to get caught up on things at this time.

Paula did get the text that I sent her yesterday and I almost regretted sending it, LOL, because she started texting me like crazy. Well, maybe not like crazy, but definitely more than I’d like. I am still glad we can text each other because this way I feel like I’m compromising with her, in a sense. It’s better than postal letters, but I don’t have to deal with chatting with her live and her nonstop rambling.

Tom and I set up a Skype account so that we can keep in touch during the daytime while he’s at work without having to use up a lot of our text messages. That way I can use text messages for friends. Skype is pretty awesome. I like it so far. It’s very simple to use.

We ordered our new bench swing in red and it should be here around the 10th. Decided to hold off on this beautiful small round table with a stained glass surface with flowers and butterflies for now because I think it would be too low to set the laptop on. I don’t expect to spend a whole lot of time out there anyway.

Last night I tossed and turned like crazy because I kept waking up with this horrible pain in the middle of my back. It’s the type of backache I tend to get when I’m PMSing, only this was a lot worse than usual. I took an ibuprofen a half-hour after I took my thyroid medication.

I had a strange dream that we were flying from someplace and we landed in this garage-type building. I was so sure the plane was going to smash through the back wall of the garage, but it didn’t.

I also had a dream that I was taking statins again. Really hope that’s not a sign of any kind.

SUNDAY, MARCH 1, 2015 Yesterday was both fun and relaxing, though I never did hear from my sister. I left her a message on Facebook asking if she left a message that I might not have gotten. More than likely she just hasn’t gotten around to it yet.

We are ordering a brand-new bench swing sometime today. We sat on the model in the store and it was so comfortable. I expected it to be $400 - $500 but it’s actually just $200. It seats three people and has a little canopy. The canopy is kind of pointless, though, because it is going on a covered patio. It is still going to be nice to have for when I feel like sitting outside in the fresh air, assuming it isn’t noisy at the moment with landscaping and woodworking sounds. Not gonna be out there much with bees in the daytime and spiders at night.

Made a small order on Amazon… a small pink ballerina silhouette sticker for the side of the bookcase, and a couple of pairs of dusting gloves. I think that will make dusting, my least favorite chore, a lot easier and faster. I will still have to use the Swiffer dusting wand for areas that I can’t reach, though.

Tom tossed up to me the idea of getting a vinyl-printing machine and making my own stickers, but I would not use it enough for it to be worth the $300.

I have officially retired my big Mac after 7 years. It’s been a very fun, interesting and useful 7 years. I will keep it as a backup in case my new MacBook has any problems. I’m still not sure what I want to do as far as keyboards and monitors go. I miss having a big monitor, but downsizing the screen size has allowed me to wear only my bifocals, which I prefer. There was a beautiful 30-inch monitor in the store for $150 or so, but I’m still not sure what I want to do. I just know that it is extremely hard to type on this keyboard with long nails so I am all the more appreciative of dictation. If they could ever break or I could convince myself to cut them off, then it would just take some getting used to. These Chiclet keys aren’t like the raised keys I’m used to typing on, which allows for slightly longer nails. OMG, a woman who’s been attracted to other women with long nails? LOL! I don’t let my tastes dictate my appearance. I even have long hair and sometimes I wear dresses and makeup.

Definitely thinking of getting a 10-key extension because there are four or five keys that are missing from the laptop that really come in handy.

Yesterday I got to hear my friend Irene’s voice for the first time, and it was so cool being able to understand most of the German that she spoke, and how she could understand me as well when I spoke German. She sounded a lot younger than I expected her to sound for being 53 years old. She too, hasn’t heard from Nane since October. As I’ve learned, though, Nane’s number one person in life is herself. As long as she can be the judgmental hypocrite that she was, and getting worse by the minute, I can live with not hearing from her, but can understand where it might hurt Irene because they go back 30 years.

I sure did hear from Paula yesterday. It was so funny too because she sent me a belated birthday card. Haha, that was really nice of her. Maybe I will go ahead and suffer through a phone call to her as much as I hate those who ramble on and on about themselves and never let you get a word in edgewise.

Even though it may be a bit premature since we’re not getting a cat until after our trip to Reno in the spring, I have already begun catproofing the place. Fortunately, I don’t get breakable items very often anymore when I do get knickknacks and things like that. I prefer vinyl to porcelain. The few breakable pieces I do have that are valuable have been moved to different locations that will be out of the cat’s reach. I thought that Bailey would be too big to be put in the hutch but she actually looks good sitting in there.

I had a strange dream involving Maliheh although Maliheh never appeared in the dream. I either broke into her small one-bedroom house, had a key, or found the door unlocked. When I entered her living room I found the bedroom door shut and could hear the shower running, so I knew she was in the shower at that time. I sat down on the living room couch and waited for her, hoping we could work things out and become friends again. I knew she never had the crush on me that I once had on her and I was okay with that. I just wanted to be friends again with her whereas in real life I don’t ever want anything to do with her again.

As I sat on the couch I began to eat something, though I don’t know what it was. By the couch, there was food cooking on some kind of grill that wasn’t really a grill, which said it came from a yard sale. There were two large sandwiches or pieces of meat cooking. Whatever it was seemed like an awful lot of food for one person and I began to wonder if somebody else was with her in the bedroom or the shower.

I suddenly realized that I could get in an awful lot of trouble by being there uninvited and so I decided it would be best to leave. I placed the small plate down on the couch with my uneaten food and then I began to gather my stuff. I had taken my shoes, socks, and jacket off while I waited for her on the couch. I gathered it up and headed outdoors into what was a very warm and rainy night. I ran along the wet sidewalk barefoot, now determined not to be seen by Maliheh. I figured that she might have heard the front door closing as I left and I expected either her or a possible girlfriend of hers to come out looking for me. I was careful to cross a side street without getting run over and searched for a place to put my shoes and socks on.

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nfumbewalk · 1 month ago

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All About Muertos

My double "Yes!" answer. Notice the shape the chamalongos are in. Kinda looks like a "Y." Lol! Cool. The chamalongos are in the "Yes, with blessings!" being all light sides up.

So this is about muertos. What do I know? A lot, with objective and subjective opinions and truths. I'm not one who believes much in "karma" and other New Age twattery. But I've figured out things out on my own. I encourage others to do this too. Challenge me even.

The muertos are very interesting topic. But they are also controversial, mostly because ppl don't understand them or their ways. I'm here to shed some light on misunderstood aspects of muertos and their behaviors, motivations, and sometimes odd things that they do. These are listed here in no order because its difficult to do so. My answers may surprise you.

When you have a close person to you on their deathbed, and even if they are unconscious ' they do hear you and are aware of your presence. Even if they have dementia - it doesn't matter. Talk to them normally!! Fit in as much as you can. They will remember!! Hold their hand, show love in your grip. I talked to my dad, who had advanced dementia and C. Diff, and I gripped his hand, looked in his eyes, and spoke of memories. Yes! Do this! My brother said he was busy talking to ghosts. 😢 Sure miss dad.

Muertos stay loyal. The most important ppl to muertos is their family, number one - then, their Muertera/o/ist (practitioner of Muerteria). Muertos are also predictable, because they are still human. My muerto makes his rounds. I get small visits daily, but big and loud ones every month, sometimes every other month. Rodolfo likes to assert himself in certain telltale ways. I talk about Rodolfo and his usual antics in this blog a lot. Loves making noise!

You can be dead, but not "crossed over." There are muertos that have passed, but don't accept their death or don't know that they have died, or possibly have suffered the worst - a violent, and/or unexpected death. My mother did not accept her death until last year. She died in 2006. It was because she wouldn't accept some trauma from her life - she had to let it go. Very common with muertos, but most ppl aren't so headstrong that they won't let things go from their life. Most do this fine, because Elevation and Freedom (Heaven) is much more tempting.

What's Elevation? A series (of Four steps) of stages that a muerto goes through to to perfect themselves before they can enter the beautiful light of Freedom (Heaven). Freedom is different than a Christian view of Heaven. Its a beautiful place of retirement where you do as you like. Many strive for further perfection of their souls. Others live their lives like when alive. If the muerto had terrible vices while alive, these were erased. No vices exist in Freedom. If someone was a hatchet murderer, they DO NOT make it to Freedom. They go to a special place in the Grode. I mentioned that place entries ago. Its a holding place for all muertos, where one side is for regular muertos, then the wrongdoing muertos go to another side of the Grode. If you are especially bad, there's a special hole for you known as The Peak.

How about ghost hunting? EMF's? Paranormal Phenomena? Read here carefully. The ghost hunting thing was a fad. Pls, don't do it out of respect of the muertos! For them, it makes them upset - they get jolted, wired, anxious - that's why they gave phenomena!! And like I said in my "All About Graveyards" post - I'll repeat: Muertos hate EMF, they despise it! It is akin to a very loud bass speaker in the ear! Muertos love anything that gets RID of EMF like Orgonite and Shungite. I have an Orgonite pyramid on my muerto, Rodolfo's altar. He loves it, almost as much as my Baston de Muerto!

What About Wandering Spirits & Repeat Hauntings? Leave those alone. Let the muerto wander and the repeat, repeat. You don't need to "heal" it or "solve" it. If the muertos bother you, I recommend "Espanta Muerto" plant or my mixture, "Espanta Espiritu." I give it out for absolutely no cost but give me a good background story! 😊

What about Ouija boards? I'm a mixed bag. While I see them as a functional divination device to perform necromancy, I also think that they are a hoot when your a kid. It was my first ever occult object that I used with my best friend. It was a very long time ago...Madonna was in her "Like A Prayer" phase and I despised her, rather listening to The Cure's Lovesong. Around the same time...I didn't have cable television! Lol! Good times! Anyways Ouija boards are best prepared for necromancy work. I may post a ritual on how to prep a Ouija! Like & reblog if I should! 💖

Sex and muertos - very heated discussion: I can't remember but I think my late friend Leilah Wendell may have touched on this controversial subject. My view is very open-minded. Though this will not be in my book. So, can you naughty with your muerto? It is *mentally* possible. This wouldn't be too hard, a visualization with stimuli. Spiritually, I also suppose so. But physically, impossible. It would have be disinterment and necrophilia. Those who are in Muerteria are very against this. Any crime against the muertos is shame on your spirit and soul.

Questions

Does my loved one watch over me? Be specific. But yes, they watch in a detached way...BUT arrive very quickly when something may be happening or will happen to you!

When I see certain times on the clock (like 11:11) is it muertos? It is likely them telling you to get off of your arse and do it! Its NOT just angels with this whole timing gig. Its muertos, too.

Oh, do muertos watch me in the shower or when dressing? Or sex? No, unless they are creeps in life . Really though - do ppl watch you dress or shower normally? Doubtful. Muertos have other shit to do. Like elevate!

Do the muertos hear me pray? Yes, of course they do.

What is a good prayer for the muertos? Try Psalm 23, a standard. My muerto also loves Psalm 91 - a comforting and protective psalm. I never heard of this one until Rodolfo told me to look it up. He also likes Psalm 52, but I think that one is his personal thing.

Can I ask to see them, without ghost hunting, etc? Yes, you can. Just be clear. Know who, why, when, and where. The 4-W's. You may not see them physically. It takes practice. You can try an ordinary glass hand mirror, a black mirror, or a dark colored bowl of water to see muertos with. Some find that regular surfaces like mirrors and clear vases of water work better - as in my case. his is known as scrying. In Muerteria, we refer to scrying as "Sighting." Sighting is a very big chunk of Muerteria's founding principals and holy rituals. If you do not see them, you probably need an offering. In Muerteria, we use a floral water (rosas, naranja, lavanda - one of these) and alcohol mixture in a very small bowl, plus Wood Aloe or Sandalwood incense. This helps to draw them. You can take the floral water to the graveyard too, to pour at the right edge side of your chosen ones tombstone. To invoke. 😊 Being necromantic is fun sometimes but can spook you off your tits.

You must have shit happening all the time!??! - A Customer. Yes, I do! But it doesn't scare me, its just me saying: "Hi, Rodolfo! What do you need?" Then I figure out if it was him. Sometimes I have to put out more candles and water glasses, with an extra prayer. I get visitors from time to time. No big deal. I've been subject to curses by a couple of other women, but they don't go far. I get a few symptoms, do an egg limpia, and all traces are gone! One woman is a Santera. One is a Witch. These limpias are also attached to energy cleansings with Rodolfo. He is my magical partner. I taught him - long story...we met originally in 2012. I'll have to tell it. 💀

Do you have to be gifted to work with muertos? Well, kinda. It helps a lot. But!! No fear, now! There are ways around it - seriously. Getting really good at divination can help, and heightened empathy as well. Plus access to HTDE (Highly Transmutable Death Energy) helps. What's involved with that? Having human remains related to you - not bought at an online shop. Those have no HTDE. Having ashes of a loved one, or a bone. Not digging anything up. I have my dad with me. He's **charged** with HTDE. I've posted what it is. It is the condensed form of our DNA, the spiral of life, that keeps us alive, holds our power, through generations and is repeated through reproduction. It never dies. So ashes always contain power but it does fade after about 30 years. Sooo....expanding empathy, access to HTDE, or simply Death Energy could help too, it just seems so little for me.

I was really disappointed when I looked up death work here on tumblr. It was very underwhelming. I saw nothing new. Same Greek/Roman stuff, some hoodoo stuff, boring. Trite. I didn't even learn that way. I had Leilah from the beginning. I found her in the 90's, interviewed by Gothic magazines and small press articles. No internet. Little necromancy interest in books by bigger publishers.

What shaped me was my first hand experience with death and Santa Muerte. Not everyone meets her at 8 years old. Not everyone almost gets killed crossing the road. Good thing I was minimally injured, my glasses taking the beating. But that was very expensive for my parents. They could barely afford a new pair. The couple that hit me gave my parents all fraudulent information! At least I was mostly unscathed and I believed that the "Lady Angel" as I described her to my dad, protected me.

Anyways, just a ramble.

M.M. 💖💀💖

#necromancy #muerto #witchblr #witchy vibes #witch aesthetic #goth #witchcraft #santa muerte #magick

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mirrorball-leclerc · 11 months ago

Text

mamma mia! - part six

masterlist // previous // next

mia tate i did a thing

mia tate it might be a bad thing but considering abby isn't around to help with my impulse control i just did it.

daniel ricciardo oh god what did you do?

mia tate so i was walking around monaco as one does when they're new to a city and well i may have ended up at an animal shelter...

charles leclerc DID WE GET A PET?? max verstappen please tell me you didn't get us another pet. we have two cats! mia tate well, i didn't get another cat...

max verstappen you got a dog didn't you??

mia tate in my defense, the lady at the shelter said someone had dropped off puppies weeks ago because their dog had too many and they couldn't keep them and he was just too cute to say no to

daniel ricciardo sounds familiar mia tate oh shut it ricciardo!

mia tate he sort of reminded me of charles because he just wouldn't stop whining until i picked him up, except with charles it's until someone cuddles him. i named him clover, almost called him mimosa. i miss drinking those.

daniel ricciardo he's cute.

charles leclerc i don't whine for cuddles

mia tate "mia! come cuddle me! i'm so alone!" max verstappen "winner cuddles the losers max! that's just how it goes!" daniel ricciardo "is no one going to cuddle me? i'm cold! and so alone!"

charles leclerc a moment of weakness is all.

mia tate sure buddy. charles leclerc we made out three days ago, do not call me buddy. mia tate there he goes, whining again charles leclerc I DON'T WHINE!

max verstappen forget the whiner for a second, are you coming to abu dhabi?

mia tate duh? abby too.

mia tate my dad and marc are going to, if that's okay?

daniel ricciardo ooh, another meeting of the in-laws, hopefully this one goes better

max verstappen once again, sorry about him. and why wouldn't it be okay? it's your dad and brother mia.

mia tate i just don't want to make any of you uncomfortable with my dad.

charles leclerc i do still owe your brother a meeting with seb. and as long he's not like, you know, everything should be fine. by the way, you're going to be in the ferrari garage, right?

max verstappen hell no, only one of us a championship contender, she should be in the red bull garage.

daniel ricciardo i feel like this is going to be a common argument around here.

miatate posted new stories

i have the impulse control of a child, meet clover! booger arrived last night and demanded i take him out to breakfast. remind me again, who's the one carrying a baby? turns out both tate sisters have the impulse control of a child, this is daisy mae for anyone wondering what arguments with these three are like, charles obviously lost this time around

miatate congrats world champion. it's been a pleasure joining you on this journey. here's to many more.

tagged: maxverstappen33

user has limited comments

marc_tate WOOO! LET'S GO MAX!!

maxverstappen33 why'd you have yo use that picture?

→ miatate i think you look very cute.

charles_leclerc this man always has to wear a red bull cap.

→ maxverstappen33 and you have to always wear questionable pants

→ charles_leclerc YOU SAID MY PANTS LOOKED GOOD!

→ maxverstappen33 well, i lied.

danielricciardo wow what a cutie.

→ maxverstappen33 thank you

→ danielricciardo i'm talking about mia. not you.

→ maxverstappen33 YOU CAN'T EVEN SEE HER FACE??

→ danielricciardo and yet i know she looks better than you.

abbytate YEAH MAXIMILIAN!!!

robert_tate congratulations max

→ maxverstappen33 thank you robert

max verstappen are you sure? we can always stay in and watch a movie or something?

mia tate max, i'll be fine. it's not everyday you become a world champion for the first time.

max verstappen i don't like this

daniel ricciardo i thought charles was the whiner?? charles leclerc I'M NOT A WHINER!!

mia tate max, i'll be fine, besides, abby's staying with me. go. take my brother with you.

max verstappen but i don't want to?

charles leclerc max, she's 5 months pregnant. i doubt she'll be comfortable on a boat with loud music or in a club.

max verstappen but how are we supposed to go out partying if she's going to stay alone?

daniel ricciardo she's got abby. she won't be alone.

mia tate max, go out. party a bit. i'll be fine.

max verstappen this doesn't mean i'll be having fun.

mia tate of course

daniel ricciardo he's going to end up more wasted than charles and i combined.

charles leclerc of course he is, he's partying with checo.

3 hours later

max verstappen MIA!

mia tate yes max?

max verstappen I LOVE YOU!

max verstappen ❤️❤️❤️😘😘😘🥰🥰🥰🥰😍😍😍😍😍

daniel ricciardo HEY NO FAIR! I WANTED TO SAY IT FIRST!

charles leclerc IT'S NOT FAIR! WE AGREED ME FIRST!

max verstappen I AM WORLD CHAMPION I GET TO SAY IT FIRST.

mia tate i don't know what you three idiots said to her but she's crying - abby

charles leclerc NO! SEE MAX! THIS IS WHY IT SHOULD'VE BEEN ME FIRST!!

daniel ricciardo I'M ON MY MIA!

charles leclerc NOT IF I GET THERE FIRST!

max verstappen I AM WORLD CHAMPION! I SHOULD BE THERE FIRST! LOSERS!

charles leclerc I'M TELLING MIA YOU'RE BEING MEAN TO ME!

abigail tate posted new stories

clover's whining like her father charles. but we still love clover, charles is on a thin line. while the boys are away, the girls watch little women not pictured is a pouting max verstappen saying, "i'm world champion, where are my cuddles?"

taglist: @six-call @barcelonaloverf1life @janeholt3 @queen-aria-things @camdensreg @mycenterfold @woozarts @vellicora @nichmeddar @thisismereading @inloveallthetime @baw-sixteen @floxly @dear-fifi @chiliwhore @ilove-tswizzle @nataliambc @greigreyhiyyih @tygecjjd @cataf1 @nothaqks @formulaal @lichterfee @prongsvault @kaa212 @julesbabey1 @julesbabey @georgeparisole @smnthnclj @hobiismyhopeu @melissayalene @nikfigueiredo @bella-1 @emilyval1 @winchesterwife27 @cashtons-wife @namgification @anniemae299 @octopussesarecool @jensonsonlybutton @ragioniera @weekendlusting @anytimeanywherebitch-blog @trouble-sistar @lesliiieeeee @meadhbhcavanagh @firetruckstuckley

strikethrough means i couldn't tag you

¡leclerc-s speaks! i'm coping. not well. but i'm coping. anytime i see a sad charlos edit or a sad lewis edit i burst into tears and the season hasn't even started! it'll be worse when the season ends.

¡disclaimer! this is in no way making assumptions about the people involved in this story, this is all fake. it is a fanfiction please don't take any of what is said seriously. this is all for entertainment purposes and as a creative outlet for me. enjoy!

#leclerc-s #f1 fic #f1 instagram au #formula 1 fic #f1 smau #f1 social media au #formula 1 #f1 #formula one #fanfic #fanfiction #daniel ricciardo x female oc #max verstappen x female oc #charles leclerc x female oc #f1 x mamma mia crossover

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leonbloder · 2 years ago

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Learning To Fish vs. Learning To Trust

Several months ago, I deleted my Twitter account because I spent too much time scrolling through it every day and getting angry at all the ridiculousness I found on it.

I also have some philosophical differences with the new owner of Twitter, so there's that, too.

But before my exodus from the platform, I did see an exchange between two people that amused me so much that I noted it for such a time as this.

The first guy posted a tweet in response to an article on a government program for people stuck in the cycle of poverty that essentially said:

"Jesus taught people to fish. He didn't give them handouts."

To which another guy responded:

"Oh yeah, I forgot the story where Jesus taught 5,000 people to fish so they could feed themselves."

I had to laugh at that whole thing for a couple of reasons. The first guy obviously needed to read the New Testament more carefully.

Jesus never taught anyone to fish. He wasn't a fisherman. When he gave the disciples advice on fishing, it wasn't a lesson on fishing but a lesson on trust.

Jesus told the disciples in the fishing boat to cast their nets again after they'd been fishing all night and caught nothing. Peter probably sighed before he responded, "Well, you see, we've been fishing all night and haven't caught a thing, but because you say so, I'll do it."

And then they pulled in a haul that was so large it almost broke their nets.

The disciples knew how to fish; they had been doing it most of their lives. They didn't know how to trust, though. Jesus fixed that.

Further, the point of the second guy in that Twitter exchange is well-taken. When Jesus fed the multitudes who had gathered to hear him speak, he was meeting their immediate need, which was hunger and a more profound need, trust.

Both the multitudes and the disciples, who were flummoxed by Jesus' direction to feed everyone, got to experience the rush and joy of having their needs met and their trust in God enlivened.

So what do we learn from this?

The Way of Jesus demands we meet people where they are, and sometimes where they are is in a place of immediate need that needs to be filled before they can learn to trust and begin to find their way again.

And if we ignore their immediate need, we do violence to the Gospel.

James, the brother of Jesus, put it like this in his letter to the Church:

If one of you says to him, "Go, I wish you well; keep warm and well fed," but does nothing about his physical needs, what good is it? In the same way, faith by itself, if it is not accompanied by action, is dead.

The myth of the American success story is often buoyed by accounts of those who we are led to believe pulled themselves up by their bootstraps, made their way in the world, worked hard, imagined more, and came out on top.

What's missing from those accounts is that, more often than not, they were given a leg up along the way; someone offered them something they would not have attained on their own.

Another hard truth is that in the wealthiest country in the world, millions are living below the poverty line, most of whom have long given up trusting that there is a way out.

You can't pull yourself up by the bootstraps when you're barefooted.

And so, like Jesus, we are called to do everything we can to try and meet the immediate needs of those whose immediate needs keep them from imagining a better life, a good God, and a kinder, gentler world.

This is the Way of Christ. May we live into it with all the love we can muster.

And may the grace and peace of our Lord Jesus Christ be with us all, now and forever. Amen.

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dmitri-smerdyakov · 3 years ago

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Thoughts on Secrets of Dumbledore - SPOILERS

So basically I have a cold/sore throat from screaming at kids for four days straight so I’m not actually well and I was so close to not going on opening day in the UK today (well, technically it’s Saturday now so it’s yesterday but still) because I feel rotten. But I had to - as someone known for their Fantastic Beasts obsession, and having waited for nearly four years, I wasn’t about to miss out on this film on opening day.

There was a lot going on and I’m not well so I may have missed some things out or even missed bits in the film, so please bear with me, I’ve tried my best to remember as much as possible and I’m also happy to answer any DMs or asks if people have questions! Also, I’ve tried to keep it as in order as it happened as possible, but again, I’m ill and have probably gotten mixed up in places!

So, here’s my post about the film. There are SPOILERS below the cut so please don’t open the post and then send hate to me because I spoiled the film because not only is it marked and tagged, it’s also under a read more! You’ve been warned!

⚠️ SPOILERS BELOW THE CUT! SPOILERS FOR THE NEW FANTASTIC BEASTS ⚠️

Firstly, let me take a moment to say FUCK JK ROWLING 🖕🏻 ANYWAY, moving on:

First of all, I liked SoD a LOT more than CoG. Like a LOT more. It felt more like the first film mixed with a bit of Harry Potter, and even used a LOT of the same soundtrack from the first film

This film was funny in place but also REALLY dark in others??? Like holy shit???

I’m not sure how long after CoG the film is set quite frankly but I’m pretty sure at one point they said that it was a month ago??? Or Lally said that a year ago was when Jacob met Newt??? But then Bunty says she’s been working for Newt for 8 years and however many days… I don’t know, I thought it was the 30s???

Also it’s Autism Acceptance Month and the fact we’re getting Newt Scamander being his beautiful autistic self this month just makes sense ♾

So the film starts with Dumbledore and Grindelwald having tea which is kind of nice

Sorry to the Depp fans out there but Mads Mikkelsen should have been cast as Grindelwald from the start… I agree what WB did was appalling, but I loved Mads as Grindelwald, which I honestly wasn’t expecting

“Because I was in love with you” - HE FUCKING SAID IT. The gasp that went out in the audience was so fucking funny, like how do y’all NOT know by now???

NEWT IS MY AUTISTIC HERO 😭 I adore him, I almost wish the films were solely about him searching for magical beasts frankly

Newt helping the mummy Qilin give birth was so Newt, I love him, he was putting his head on its side and comforting her, I adore him

Grindelwald’s followers got the first baby Qilin but then the mother had twins 😭❤️

YES I CRIED AT MUMMY QILIN DYING WITH NEWT NEXT TO HER 😭

Newt cradling a baby Qilin is not the content I was expecting but I’m grateful for it

The Newt scenes remain my favourite in this film, and maybe I’m biased because he’s autistic and I’m autistic, but yeah

Pickett with his mini glasses 😭❤️

Teddy being in charge in the case was adorable like omg

Wooo Wyvern!!! I love seeing more beasts!

So apparently Qilins bow to those who are pure of heart and can also see the future or something?

Grindelwald kept touching Credence/his face in a way that made me VERY uncomfortable

NOT GRINDELWALD SLITTING THE BABY QILIN’S THROAT

Queenie is now a platinum blonde????

Theseus remains my hot husband 🤧😮‍💨💛 fucking adore that man and would jump him without second thought

PRAISE THE MAKE UP AND HAIR PEOPLE, THEY LET THESEUS HAVE A BIT OF CURL IN HIS HAIR ❤️👏🏻👀👌🏻

Theseus was hardcore judging Dumbledore for making that blood pact and I find that really funny??? He’s like “… why would you do that???”

I love love LOVE the Scamander brothers so much, I love their dynamic and them as individuals! The banter, the moments… love them!

I can relate to Theseus being the exasperated older sibling but also relate to Newt being the autistic one whose sibling is like “…????? The fuck???”

Queenie checking on Credence was nice, they have a couple of nice moments together, and I love that she told him that she doesn’t always tell Grindelwald what she hears Credence thinking

I don’t think I was supposed to be thinking “LESBIAN QUEENS” when Vinda and Queenie were in a shot together and yet that’s exactly where my brain went 😭

Jacob was still getting the biggest laughs out of the audience, I love him. He remains such a wonderful character even in the depth of a depression/funk

To be fair, there were quite a few laughs in the film and it wasn’t just me laughing, there were a lot of people of there and most of them were laughing

Noooo not Jacob’s bakery struggling because of the Great Depression (presumably)

LALLY IS A FUCKING QUEEN I LOVE HER

I love love LOVE the Jacob and Lally dynamic so much, it was one of my favourite things in the film

Bunty is the fucking thirstiest most desperate bitch. I don’t like the actress and I don’t like the character and every time she appeared and made a joke I had to roll my eyes. Her character is STILL very much “I’m in love with my boss who doesn’t love me back” and not a lot else

Shout out to the reviewer who said she was “one note” and another who said she was a “JK R*wling lookalike” lmfao 🤣

I love that Newt and Lally are already friends who have corresponded, it’s so sweet

Newt introducing Lally to everyone and forgetting his own brother 😂

I’m not sure but… are the films gonna make Theseus and Lally a thing??? There was a little moment where they met each other/were introducing themselves directly to each other, then they got paired up in Bhutan… idk, maybe just me?

BABY NIFFLERS GETTING BIG 😭

Also I think two of their names in the film are said to be “Alfie” and “Timothy”???

By the way, someone on Twitter that I was once friends with said a few weeks ago in the audio chat/space thing that Newt’s autism “disappeared” when he hugged Jacob (because that had been seen in trailers) and I would like to say NOPE. Not how it works, don’t care if it was a joke or if that person was autistic too, it made me super uncomfortable! And when I said that, she blocked me so… yep.

^Sorry but I don’t like jokes like that. Maybe I’m just sensitive but it made me, an autistic person who loves Newt and is so grateful for him being autistic, very upset and uncomfortable. Maybe some autistic people are fine with those jokes, and that’s fine! I’m just personally not, it makes me upset and makes me feel like they’re mocking Newt being autistic or saying he’s not really autistic so… sorry.

Knowing he’s autistic made me so happy and helped me accept the fact I was going for an autism diagnosis (and have since received the diagnosis that yes I’m autistic). Knowing this non-stereotypical character I loved and who’s played by one of my favourite actors is autistic helped me feel better during the process and made me feel like it would be okay, so yeah!

Tina being the head of the MACUSA AUROR OFFICE LIKE SHE FUCKING DESERVES, WE LOVE A GIRLBOSS

I love that Lally was praising the shit out of Tina and saying she was an incredible woman, we love to see it

Okay, on the topic of Tina… I wish there was more of her. I do. Writing that she’s too busy just seemed kind of lazy. She has like 2 minutes of screentime near the end of the film, first at MACUSA and then at the Jacob and Queenie wedding???

You can’t honestly and seriously tell me that Tina fuckin’ Goldstein would rather be head of the Aurors than try to help her sister or Credence???? Like yeah yeah yeah, she’s a career girl and all that, but also she was willing to lose her job and break the rules to save Credence before??? What the fuck???

Newt seemed super sad about Tina being busy and Lally jumping in to say how amazing she is… ??? I don’t know why but it felt like there was more to it than just her being busy??? Because I’m pretty sure there was a weird silence, and it sounded like they were trying to cover it up???

JACOB GOT A WAND 👏🏻🤧 it didn’t have a core but still?!? He deserves it

I love Teddy refusing to let go of Theseus’ red and golden tie 😂

NO BUT DID JACOB MAKE A WAND INNUENDO JOKE OR???? I couldn’t hear properly because my ears are blocked by my sister’s friend was sitting next to me and she started laughing??? Something about Theseus’ wand actually working???

I do appreciate Theseus just being the bemused and dry older brother, I know some of it is probably down to still being sad about his fiancée dying but still

There were quite a few mentions of Leta, by the way, which was interesting

I had some trouble hearing the dialogue at times, and I thought this might be just because I’ve got blocked ears from my cold - but then my sister and her friend (both of whom are not sick) also said that they struggled to hear it so… ???

NOT THEM CLEARING GRINDELWALD OF HIS CRIMES 😭😭😭 BE MORE FUCKED I DARE YOU-

Not Theseus getting himself fucking arrested 😭😭😭 my dumbass husband I love him

It’s the fact he got arrested going after the people he recognised from the rally where Leta was killed 😭

Newt was trying to go after Theseus as they dragged him away but was stopped because “not here, there’s nothing we can do”

Also Jacob starting to protest about Grindelwald’s name being cleared like “I WAS THERE, HE LITERALLY MURDERED PEOPLE” and the others having to shush him

NEWT KEEPING A PHOTO OF TINA IN HIS CASE AND HIS POCKET THOUGH 😭😭😭😭

I don’t think Newtina are together by this point but there’s no inclination they are or aren’t??? It’s like “where’s Tina” “she’s busy, she’s head of the Aurors” and then her conversation with newt is basically “did you do something with you hair?” “Just for the wedding” etc. There’s no kiss, no “she’s my girlfriend/fiancée/we’re together”, it’s very confusing for me

An instruction for Bunty’s eyes only… the fact she was given important jobs AND was the one to have the Qilin at the end… so cheesey. Sorry but I can’t stand her 😭 she’s the only character I dislike to this extent. JKR wanted her to be the main girl instead of Tina so bad and it failed

(I’m still at least somewhat convinced that Bunty got such a big role because Katherine called JKR out explicitly - more so than anyone else - for her bullshit, and it’s of course just a very interesting coincidence that Bunty - whose actress sucked up to JKR during one of the transphobic tirades - is suddenly given such a big part… 👀 … anyway)

Interesting to know that Wizarding world politics is just as corrupt and fucked as muggle politics

Dumbledore talking about what Ariana used to like and Aberforth like “I WAS there, you know”, such sibling behaviour

Aberforth calling the person at the door a sod and then apologizing because “sorry for calling you a sod, Minerva” 😂

The Albus and Credence fight was actually pretty cool, not gonna lie

I noticed in the scene with Grindelwald and Yusuf Kama, Leta’s theme could be heard in the soundtrack 🤧

Yusuf Kama being a triple agent was… interesting

Bunty continuing to be cringe by making jokes that it’s her husband’s case and he’s “so forgetful that sometimes he forgets he’s married to me”, followed by the most awkward 10-15 seconds of laughter I’ve ever had to sit and witness 🤦

I’m not saying she’s a pick me girl but she kind of is???

Nahhh but why were they suddenly swarming Grindelwald like he was a rockstar 😭😂

I do love Grindelwald just rocking up to this fancy ass dinner with his top buttons undone, bow tie undone, his followers flanking him

Vinda looked fine as fUCK in her suit, by the way 👌🏻 👀

Why the house elf conducting music??? 😭😭😭 stop putting house elf slavery in, I’m-

Jacob saying the Norwegian Minister of Magic looks like his uncle 😂

Not everyone thinking Jacob was attempting to assassinate Grindelwald 😭 he’s literally a muggle, how the fuck you think he gonna use a wand??? Use your brains???

Lally looked like a QUEEN in her dress by the way

I love Queenie low-key doing a little bit of magic to stop Jacob getting hurt even as she walked away with the rest of the acolytes

Newt snatching the photo of Tina away before the jail keeper at the Erkstag could take it 😭❤️

Not me crying at the jail keeper taking Pickett and Teddy away 😭 I was laughing at them both being in Newt’s coat and him being like “he’s a pet… he’s a pet too” but then crying two seconds later at them being taken and locked away

No but the laugh I let out at Newt doing the dance was literally inhuman, I canNOT-

Newt and Theseus doing the manticore dance was one of my favourite moments. In fact all of that sequence was amazing and I wish there were more sequences like that

“I am swivelling” “I don’t think you are” - GOLDEN

The big manticore was TERRIFYING by the way, it ate people and then spit them back out

Teddy and Pickett are not the duo I expected but they’re the duo we deserve and they stole the movie 😭❤️

I’m still crying with laughter thinking about Pickett falling with Newt’s wand and the Niffler jumping up, looking like he’s about to help Pickett… and then he soars past him to grab a shit ton of gold 😂👏🏻 beautiful scene right there, 11/10

NOT THESEUS STEPPING ON A BABY MANTICORE 😭🤧

The Erkstag place is actually terrifying as a whole because the prisoners are tied upside down and they have lanterns with these little firefly things next to them, and when the lanterns go out then the big manticore at the bottom eats them before spitting the remains back up for the baby ones to eat???

Newt and Theseus realising they’re still holding hands when they had Portkey-ed to safety and immediately letting each other’s hands go LMFAO JUST SIBLING THINGS

Jacob saying he got his wand for Christmas 😂

Not the Slytherins giving Jacob a bag of Cockroach Clusters 😭😂

Jacob calling Hogwarts students “pint sized wizards” LMFAO

Dumbledore giving points to a house that’s NOT Gryffindor?!? Unheard of! 🤣

I nearly died laughing at Aberforth giving them the worst looking food to eat and Theseus immediately tucking in like “after being in that dungeon, even this tastes good to me”

So Credence is in fact Aberforth’s son?!?! Jesus Christ??? I’m not sure how I feel about that like what the fuck (his mother was just “some girl from Godric’s Hollow”)

Also confirmation that Ariana was an Obscurial! I went “oh???” When that was revealed

This is probably just because I’m sick because I felt like this film was so long… not necessarily a bad thing but I’m not well so 😭

Grindelwald straight up nearly choking Credence for failing to realize there were TWO baby Qilins though

Theseus holding the baby Qilin 😭👌🏻❤️🤧 GOODBYE MY OVARIES I CANT-

EYYYY IT’S THE ROOM OF REQUIREMENT

There were 5 cases and they all chose a random one so no one knew which one was the real case and therefore none of Grindelwald’s side could know it either

So Grindelwald killed the first Qilin baby then resurrected it so that it would bow to him at the ceremony and put him in charge??? And Newt + the gang’s main plan is to get the alive Qilin to Bhutan so the election isn’t rigged???

I do love that they kept on reiterating how pure of heart and brave Jacob is 😭

Interesting that the decoy cases, from what I could tell, were filled with stuff seemingly related to the person who randomly picked it: Jacob’s had pastries, Lally’s had books, and Theseus’ had Quidditch stuff (perhaps hinting at him being a Quidditch player at school?)

Jacob and Queenie truly couldn’t have chosen a worse time or place to have their little romantic reunion 😭 like I’m happy for them but Jesus Christ it was so poorly timed???

They’re very sweet though, and him saying that his heart isn’t full because it’s always got room for her (or something to that effect) was so beautiful

Not that bitch (whose name I can’t remember, something Fisher?) taking the case Newt had and destroying it, and he thought it was his actual case I think??? 😭

I’m sorry, I can’t believe this is a whole ass film about a Wizarding Election?!? I don’t even like thinking about real politics, let alone fantasy politics

Also they went from talking about a democratic vote to deciding “hey, let’s let the magical creature bow and choose our leader” like, excuse me??? 😭

Not Grindelwald using Crucio on Jacob 😭

No but it’s the very first thing Grindelwald does upon getting elected, torturing Jacob, and people were STILL rooting for him, what the fuck-

Credence turning to the side of good seemed kind of out of left field, I won’t lie. Like I know Dumbledore said stuff to him after their fight and Grindelwald straight up choked him but also it just seemed a little… out of nowhere?

… of course Bunty was the one with the real case. Because of course she was 🙄

I wanted to cry at the alive-Qilin seeing her zombiefied-twin and trying to talk to her, and Newt telling her “she can’t hear you” and “maybe somewhere she can hear you” 😭

I do like that they showed the British MoM, the French one from the second film, MACUSA… it was a nice little callback if nothing else

NAHHH NOT ME CRYING WHEN IT SHOWED TINA AT MACUSA WATCHING NEWT WITH THE QILIN 😭😭😭 I KNOW THE BACK OF HER ANYWHERE, EVEN BEFORE THEY SHOWED HER FACE

Not the Qilin bowing to Dumbledore, meaning he’s pure of heart 🤨 but I did laugh when he was like “… oh no no no no no-” LMFAO

THE BLOOD PACT BROKE AND GRINDELDORE HAD A FIGHT BUT DIDNT KILL EACH OTHER

Grindelwald really fell backwards off the mountain and disappeared

Look I’ll admit it’s been a while since I watched the first two films but… sometimes during the film I was like “… what is happening”, and that’s how I felt about the blood pact breaking. Like sure “he shot to harm and I shot to protect” but…? What??? Maybe I’m just stupid 😭

I’m 90% sure Credence died off screen after Aberforth took him home. It’s made very clear he’s dying but they don’t show an actual death so who knows anymore???

NEWT WAS STIMMING NEAR THE END BY RUBBING HIS COAT POCKET I CANT 😭❤️ THANK YOU EDDIE FOR THE AUTISTIC NEWT CONTENT

No but I had to try very hard not to do some hand flapping at the sight of Newt stimming, it just makes me so happy 😭❤️

Bunty: *sees a photo of Tina in Newt’s case* // Me: LMFAO sucks to be you bitch

I hope she cries at the future newtina wedding 🙃

At least she seems to accept that Newt loves Tina I guess??? If I had to say one positive about her???

Jacob and Queenie have spent however long apart and suddenly they’re getting married??? Even though in the last one he made a big deal about it being against the law??? And it’s not like they’re in England by the way, they’re still in America and the law is still very much in place against No-Maj and magical mixing????

I love Queenie teasing Newt like “you’re nervous for another reason, aren’t you?” (Because he’s going to see Tina at the wedding)

Queenie’s dress and head piece was… a thing. She looked beautiful but it’s not something I’d personally wear myself

Newt being Jacob’s best man at the wedding and worrying over his best man speech was content I didn’t know I needed 😭 I kind of wish we could have heard the speech!

THE NEWTINA SCENE WAS THE FUCKING MOST AMAZING SCENE BY THE WAY

Tina is maid of honour 😭❤️

THE USE OF “Newt says goodbye to Tina” (aka THE Newtina theme), I was SOBBING

I’m still so bloody mad that Tina’s only scenes were 1) her just looking at the election broadcast at MACUSA (no lines) and 2) the wedding at the bakery. I mean yeah there’s the photo but still???

She looked fab as fuck, and I love her and Lally hugging but… yeah.

Small thing, my sister said Katherine looked extremely skinny in the film and I don’t know if that’s due to COVID or not, but… anyway.

Newt, Theseus and Jacob in their suits 👌🏻

I’m pretty sure Theseus made a comment to Newt before entering the bakery that just screamed: “… you’ve complimented how everyone looks BUT me” 😂 I can’t remember the exact comment but I’m pretty sure it happened

Cannot believe the approximately 15 people getting up and walking out before the credits even rolled 😤 like there were 30 seconds left and NOW you get up and leave?!?

Okay but who the fuck invited Bunty to the wedding when she barely fucking knows Jacob and Queenie??? And she turned up late???

The soundtrack had mostly pieces from the first film, a couple from the second, and then some Harry Potter soundtrack in there

My sister isn’t really a fan of the films but she has seen them and she didn’t like it 😭 she said it felt like it dragged and was super slow (and sometimes I admit that I felt that way a little bit too but whatever)

If nothing else, the film has made me want to jump back into writing newtina fics in a way that the first film did and the second film didn’t, so yay!!!

There’s a song (like a song with lyrics) that plays when Jacob is in the bakery thinking of Queenie and again at the wedding and then again over the end credits, and it’s called “Heaven” by Gregory Porter - it’s the official Jacob/Queenie song, let’s be honest!

So… to be honest, this felt very much like a final film. The blood pact thing is resolved, Credence knows who he is and is most likely dead (at the very least, he’s dying), Jacob and Queenie are married… I don’t know. It feels like it’s a final film but also enough there that there could be more films, if that makes sense. I feel like WB are planning to see what the box office/reception is before continuing forwards, to be honest, and I don’t know how to feel about it.

I really hope it’s not a final film because I would admittedly like to see more Tina, more Newt, more Newtina, and also that final duel between Grindelwald and Dumbledore. Despite how much I whine and complain, I’ll be very upset if this is where it comes to an end because this series does still mean a lot to me. It was definitely a HUGE improvement on the second film - in fact, this would probably be my favourite of the three if not for the severe lack of Tina.

I do want to watch it again, when I’m NOT sick and when I’m mentally ready again because mentally I’m all over the place at the moment, especially if this ends up being the last one. I wholeheartedly recommend the film though, I truly do, and I look forward to hearing what other fans say!

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miszswan · 3 years ago

Note

omg omg for jack’s sister you should do an interview where he talks about missing his family but especially his sister because he feels like he’s missing her life or something sappy and sad like that

REMINISCING RADIO SHOWS

content warnings: slight angst if you squint

Jack catches his breath after laughing once again at one of the questions, well mainly his answer.

Jack and the other two hosts readjust their headphones as they prepare for the next question.

The hostess looks scans over her notes for the question. “You mentioned that you’ve been away from home and your family because of travelling and work.” She adds on.

“Yeah I mean I’ve been to a lot of countries over the past couple months but it’s been really hard. I don’t always see my parents and it really makes things difficult. I’d have to say that the hardest part about me travelling everywhere is that I haven’t seen my baby sister in months. Damn I miss that kid.”

“We’ve seen on her stories and in her interviews that she mentions you a lot.” The host adds.

“Yeah man I mean the last time I saw her was at her graduation a couple months ago. I remember how shocked I felt seeing her walk across that stage, it’s just

so crazy to me that she’s actually a grown woman now.” He reminisces. “Like I swear she was a tiny baby the other day and now she owns an apartment in Atlanta, lives there by herself, she has an album coming soon.”

As he spoke, his mind began to replay memories from the past few years. When it came to his baby sister ( well that’s what he calls her at least, even though she’s turning nineteen ) he would become this protective cuddly bear that no one could recognise as Jack Harlow.

You wouldn’t see this charming man who made multiple people weak in the knees with his voice alone. You’d see a man who’s been missing a part of him since he moved away from Kentucky, a man who watched videos of his baby sisters earliest milestones, a man who’d text and call her as much as he could. Just to hear her voice.

The truth is, Jack had to make many sacrifices when it came to his career. At time he felt like he was drifting away from his sister. He’d often see videos and pictures of her dancing, singing or just living her life on her Instagram stories and posts. He’d smile on the outside, but frown on the inside.

He wishes he could spend more time with her but she knew, Neelam knew, Urban knew that there was just no time for that.

If there was something that Jack knew would make this aching longing feeling go away, it would be the success of his album.

That may sound a little conceited but here’s the thing. If all that time, months away from home, family, friends resulted in a record breaking album, it would all be worth it.

Sometimes Jack thought that Sage resented him for all the times he said that they had made plans and cancelled at the last minute because of a work thing, that’s the thought that Jack somehow drilled into his mind. It was driving him crazy.

Yes there were several occasions where he said that he was in town, that they’d meet up at a restaurant within the next few hours or something like that. Times where they were supposed to spend time together just the two of them. Now over the past few years often those said times would result in her being stood up or somehow having some random girl or a few of his friends accompanying them.

Urban, Neelam, Clay or their parents would often call him out on his bull shit. He knew he was a bit of a screw up when it came to spending time with Sage.

Sage on the other hand understood the situation better than her big brother realised. She herself had to live in a different state while filming Stranger Things for 6 months when she was only 13. So she knew how he felt. She never resented nor got angry at him for it. Sure it hurt sometimes and she’d get annoyed but she got over it quickly. Besides it was part of the job.

Jack didn’t know that.

“She’s done a lot this past year hasn’t she?” The hostess says.

Jack smiles before continuing. “She’s travelled across the country, she was in Australia at some point. She’s been recording an album and those songs. Wow. I mean most people wouldn’t expect me to listen to the kind of music Sage writes but I have and I do every now and then. From what I have heard, no one is ready for her album.”

“I think you’re promoting the wrong album.” The host teases making the three burst into laughter.

“The funny thing is,” he pauses to catch his breath. “Sage has an amazing voice and she can rap, like it’s crazy how good she actually is. Especially Eminem. Like when we were younger we used to listen to him almost every day. Meanwhile I can’t sing for shit.” The moment Jack finished that sentence, him and the two hosts started laughing again.

“This just in, white boy of the year Jack Harlow is a huge softie.” The host teases making Jack playfully, roll his eyes.

“You really love your sister, don’t you?”

“That kid is my whole world.” Jack responds to the hostess.

“Do you plan to spend more time with her after your album drops?” The host asks.

“Of course, the moment I’m done with all these interviews I will fly my ass down to wherever she’s filming and bring her snacks in between takes, I mean I feel like I’ve missed so much of her life and I really want to try my hardest to make it up to her.”

Little did the rapper know, the star of this story listened in the car while driving back from Target with her boyfriend in the passenger seat. An excited smile forms on her face

A/N: here’s my first run, what do y’all think?

I love sage and Jack already

lmao this isn't edited by the way

Masterlist

#miszswan talks #hey brother masterlist #sage celeste harlow #jack harlow #jack harlow x reader

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jangofctts · 4 years ago

Text

Mirrored Heart (captain rex x fem!reader)

rated: 18+ explicit

word count: 5.6k

warnings: smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex, creampies, fingering, blow jobs, clone space racism?

a/n: ANYWAY HERE IT IS. ive had this draft saved since like a year ago and just now finished it. anyway kwjrkejh here YALL GO. also thank you @jango-fettish FOR LETTING ME BORROW SYRENA

It's curious.

Well, you, as a whole are curious—completely outside the realm of what Rex considers normal. As far as senators go, that is.

You're grumpy for one—worse than Skywalker and far more snide than Kenobi—a near gargantuan task bordering impossible. Wit and cleverness come to you easier than breathing, but it's your unwavering kindness towards himself and his brothers that sticks out like a blaster burn against alabaster white walls.

He passed it off as a joke—some sort of mockery. Rex’s existence has been full of them. The past year it’s been made glaringly clear as to what the clones are to the people of the republic—tools. Mindless war machines dressed with flesh and bone, heart and sinew instead of durasteel and a circuitboard. Humanity has been skimmed over with excuses and debates over the hollow argument that clones were created for the sole purpose of war—nothing more. Ignorance is bliss when you are not the one fighting tooth and nail for petty skirmishes and the survival of your family.

Ithyea, your home monarchal planet, is a newer member of the Galatic Republic—one of the firsts to advocate for clone rights—cutting through each argument with the steel headed javelin of hope and determination. Controversial in the eyes of the galaxy but no less than true. Yet with controversy, comes chaos.

Wedged between Takodana and the Cerean Reach hyperspace lane—it’s an essential key to accessing more neutral space sectors without stepping on any toes. While the planet does mirror the size of a larger than average moon, there’s nothing but grandeur with the cutting edge advances in space travel and military innovations. An arts district too, one that’s presented multiple times for the Senate apparently. Rex has yet to see it. It’s an easy guess as to why Ithyea has gone under pointed attacks from the Separatists—it’d be foolish not to try.

And of course comes the intergalactic mess of politics. You are not Ithyea’s first senator. Or second…or third. Just in the last six months, three of your predecessors have been picked off—two disappearances and a suspicious poisoning sandwiched between them. Which sides these assassinations stem from is anybody’s guess—a mix of both perhaps—all to silence and stamp the voice of your people out.

Heavy are the shoulders that wear those abhorrent senatorial robes, and Maker did it take some convincing for another Ithyean to step to the chopping block. It’s just…no one thought it’d be you. The infamous captain of King Arrian Felian’s elite guard—trained in combat levels high enough to contend some of those within the ranks of the Jedi Order. When your name comes up in conversation, it certainly doesn’t scream diplomacy.

Rex is not surprised that you hold the current record of Ithyean senators for surviving the longest. Evading an astonishing two attempts on your life by the skin of your teeth. You were just downright lucky the third assassin missed their mark. Sure, the blade of Syrena Aster skimmed the right side of your cheek and left behind a nasty scar to remember her by, but kriff—even with your background and low levels of public presence, you’re a high priced target. Whoever placed an order with the Heretics, really wants to see you six feet under.

Rex hasn’t been given the full report on exactly who the Heretics are—a rag tag bunch of untrained Force users and skilled assassins from what he’s gathered—but regardless, this attack is just the beginning. Until the Senate and the Jedi are able to retract the price on your head, you’re stuck under protective custody. Usually ushered away into the Jedi Temple or tagging along with General Kenobi and Skywalker. Despondently, no matter the circumstances of your protection, it can’t shield you from the dreadful invitations to senatorial luncheons.

And yes, you tried to slip by for this one.

You don't brush elbows with other senator’s like many of the members in the Jedi Order and your own cohort do. In fact, you actively avoid even speaking to them unless necessary, let alone stand in the same room with seven of them. Odd for an elected official of diplomacy such as yourself to be so cold shouldered—Rex would think senators wanted to mingle.

It's curious because you're standing in plain sight and yet no one pays you any passing thought. General Kenobi and Skywalker hold the majority of their attentions, shoulders already taught with exasperation at keeping everyone from tearing out each other's throats for, kriffing five minutes. Yet you...you are completely at ease, leaning up against a stone pillar, observing the unfolding chaos from afar with a keen eye.

Before Rex realizes he's stepping towards your position, you glance over and dip your chin in greeting. The ghost of a smirk pulls at your normally grim facade—his heart skips. "Captain."

"Senator," he mimics, posting himself to your right. There’s still a thin, healing scab from the assassin’s blade that extends from the swell of your cheek to your ear. Ouch. “Enjoying the evening?"

You snort. "Hardly enjoying it, Rex."

Stars—you shouldn't be allowed to say his name. Your words are razor-sharp like a jagged vibroblade, meant to jab and pierce through armor—tear a person to pieces without having to lift a finger. Everything about you is rough, gritty, brutal, unbecoming of what a senator should be, but—

You mouth his name, purring out the singular syllable with such tenderness that it's like a punch to the gut.

It's hard to swallow and he needs to clear his throat—an embarrassing act on his part, but your attention has already returned back towards the meandering senators. "How d'you mean?"

"Well," you sigh, "let's just say smalltalk isn’t my strong suit."

"Aren't you senators s'pposed to like diplomacy n' such?"

Your thumb smoothes over your bottom lip in thought as you shrug. "Diplomacy? Sure. Politicians? Can’t say I like them. I just—"

You wave your hand around, gesturing vaguely to the crowd. "I just don't understand why they can't say what they mean. Telling someone to have a nice day shouldn't entail certain death, y'know?"

"Speaking from experience?" He teases, gently prying into that harder than beskar wall you've created for yourself. There's fissions in your foundation and he means to tear it down all for just a mere scrap of information.

Your eyes flick over, your lips curling into a vulpine grin. “Perhaps...Though, it was partially my fault, I have to admit.”

“You’ll have to tell me the story sometime, Senator.”

You nod. “Yes, one day—when there aren’t so many political ears jumping at the chance of gossip.”

A swell of laughter interrupts your chat, your attention gravitating to Obi-Wan—ever the charmer with the crowds. The end of your mouth pulls into a frown as you sigh and carefully scratch at your brow with the back of your thumb. Rex might be pulling at straws, but what he mistook as you being standoffish may just be your nerves. Socially awkward and flustered when speaking in such an intimate setting.

Rex’s first instinct is to reach out and place a hand over your shoulder in comfort, but he’s not sure how you’ll respond to the touch. Flip him over your shoulder probably—

Instead he forces himself to jumpstart the conversation—something to distract from your anxieties. “I hope you don’t mind me asking—“ His heart beat kicks up into a flurry of wild beats as you turn you head. “What uh..wh—did you want to become a senator?”

He likes it when you smile—like you’re letting him on some sort of coy secret. You shift your weight and shrug. “The king asked me personally. I’m flattered he thinks I’m clever enough—insulted he sends me to these abysmal gatherings like some sort of show pony.”

Rex chuckles. “Yeah, can’t say I like ‘em either.”

“Although…” Your thumb runs over your lip again, a sparkle of mischief igniting behind your eyes. “As a senator, I do get the occasional tidbit of gossip. Here, I’ll catch you up—“

The captain startles when you snatch his elbow and yank him closer. Maker he’s glad for his helmet because your lips brush against his earpiece as he leans down to reach your height.

“Look." You whisper, nodding casually in the direction of a particularly young senator with a shock of white hair. She's swathed in a pool of royal blue silk, much too large for her tiny frame, and all but hanging off Skywalker's arm with glittered nails filed into points. "That is Senator Ceci Paare of Corellia. She looks innocent, no?"

She does. Wide, crystalline green eyes stare up at the Jedi Knight as a pretty giggle escapes past her ruby painted lips. Skywalker grimaces.

"I quite like her," you continue with a sly grin. "Even if she does try to influence public opinion by an invitation to bed."

There's no time to process as you focus in on an older man. His hazy blue skin, ash white lips and vermillion green eyes cut an almost nightmarish profile, accentuated by mountains of black robes. Rex can’t recall what planet the senator represents. The senator holds his head stiffer than rebar to keep the ornate golden circlet from slipping off, his white lips curling in distaste as Orn Free Taa of Ryloth places a meaty hand over his slender shoulder.

"He is Lord Tal’en Sol Ra'ah. Cunning, but sympathetic to the pleasures of gambling."

It's a game to you—of perceptions and nuances only a trained eye can roll over. Rex expects nothing less. This sort of thing has been hammered into the very essence of your being since you were little—reading an enemy before they can strike. It works on politicians marvelously well.

Truth be told Rex should be paying more attention—but the closeness of your face to his helmet is maddening. His heart twists and coils as your bare hand skims along his gloved one—kriff. He’s not gonna make it before he bursts into a thousand little pieces.

Rex’s spell of lovesick yearning recedes as you swear under your breath. It was only a matter of time before someone approached your little corner.

"Oh, Maker save me," you hiss under your breath as a young Mirialan saunters over, the swatches of rich red and brilliant gold accentuate his violet skin like a bloody bruise. "Pretend you're speaking with me."

"I am speaking with you," Rex snorts.

Your hand waves in dismissal as your brows stitch together, hands balling into fists. Your jaw clenches as the senator in question puts on a dazzling smile. You look downright panicked. Rex has witnessed you face down numerous senators older than dirt and close to blowing away in the wind with plucky fervor, assassination attempts, being held captive, and you're frightened…by this?

This is too good.

Rex has half a mind to help you, wheel you away from your little predicament, but his intrigue with seeing your oh-so-solid resolve crumble is much too valuable and entertaining to pass up. He's going to remember this for years.

"Rex."

"Senator," he mimics, not at all frightened by your poisonous glare. "Some diplomacy might do you good."

You begin to snarl out a threat but are decidedly cut off by your object of horror planting himself before your hiding spot. You cower into the corner like a boxed in loth-cat. "Ah, my favorite Ithyean! I had begun to worry you would not make it, my dear friend."

"Senator Lin," you sigh. The smile you offer is tight and thin; a nervous one much in the same way one would be if presented with a box of toenails for a birthday gift. “How pleasant to see you."

Senator Lin’s deep violet lips part with an easy smile. He waves a hand in dismissal, his silver rings glinting in the warm lighting. "Please—call me Toluka. No need to bother with such formalities between companions."

Rex suddenly understands your trepidation with the Mirialan—he’s slimy. And, not to mention, not at all ashamed with the lecherous looks as his eyes sweep down your body. Rex clenches his teeth and folds his arms behind his back. He’s regretting not heeding your warning now…

Try as you might through brutal small talk and chilly answers, Senator Lin refuses to take the hint. A dark plume of venom green lashes through Rex’s chest as the Mirialan places a friendly hand over your shoulder. You grimace as Rex bristles and glares through the visor of his helmet.

Senator Lin’s lips pull into a gaudy smile as he glances at Rex and then at you.“My dear, don’t you know? It’s not worth wasting your time with a clone. After all, they’re all the same person. How boorish—come join us at the table.”

Your teeth bite into your cheek as your temper, like the silver of blade through the darkness, cuts through your steely irises. With poised nonchalance, you lift your hand and pinch Senator’s Lin’s fingers between your own and pry them off your shoulder. “Is that so?”

“Your campaign, valuable as it may be,” Lin continues, “is a useless endeavor. They are not our equals and never will be--you must know that."

Rex forces himself to remain calm—collected and certainly not imaging a thousand and one ways he’d like to see his fist breaking the fragile bones of the senator’s face.

"Fine buttons stitched upon your shoulders do not compel your worth, Senator,” the harshness of your words is a blow straight to Lin’s ego. His well-groomed brows furrow drastically as his tongue struggles to play catch up and find words to repair his shattered pride.

There’s no chance for Senator Lin to regain his footing as your snatch Rex’s wrist and sweep him out into the hall. Rex can feel your anger roll off of you in waves, frighting and holding the same caliber of roaring waves thundering against black, craggy rocks. It’s a miracle the night didn’t end with your hands wrapped around the senator’s throat or a blaster shot through the chest.

When you reach the lower halls of the cruise ship is when you release Rex’s wrist. You pinch the bridge of your nose between your fingers and release a long, dramatic sigh.

"You are worth far more than that pompous ass," you say with enough edge to slice through a droideka's shields. "He has no right to say those things to you."

“It’s alright,” Rex soothes, placing a hand over your bristling shoulder. “I’ve heard worse.”

Your features scrunch up into a wince. “That...that doesn’t mean you have to suffer through more of it, Rex.”

Sighing, you run a hand through your hair and loosen the heavy outer robes strung around your shoulders. You shrug out of them and fold the thick swaths of fabric over you arm—revealing the under layers of your uniform. You toss the bundle of fabric to the floor with a disgusted grimace and sit on the cargo crate closest to your left.

“Really—it’s ok.” Rex assures again. “I—“

You hold up a hand and shake your head. His mouth snaps shut. “I won’t hear it. To me you are nothing short of perfect and I refuse to argue about it. Maker knows I already do that for a kriffing living.”

There’s a fragile lull in the hollow space—the distant chatter of voices and strange music collecting in the corners. You stand once again, toe to toe with the Captain and there it is again, that elated pitter patter of his heart thrumming through his veins. The nerves of being so close to you—you sweet face and not being able to touch you.

“Let me see your face.”

His hands come up to the edges of his helmet without hesitation, a hiss of hair escaping the seal once he pries it off. You smile and take a step closer until the only thing separating you and him is his helmet.

Rex’s eyes flutter shut, leaning into your hand you gingerly place over his jaw. “I wish the entire galaxy could see you through my eyes,” you whisper, the warmth of your soft palm radiating out and warming his entire body.

It’s a matchstick to kerosene—his helmet clatters to the ground and there’s only a second to spare as both hands move to cup his cheeks, dragging him into a mouthwatering kiss.

He hasn’t kissed many people—save for those rare times at 79’s, head swimming under the haze of one too many shots of Corellian fire whiskeys where he could barely distinguish his ass from his hand. Those drunken make-outs were nothing like this.

No—this…this is what a kiss should be like.

He dreams about you all the time—so constantly ravenous that all he can feel some days is pure ache. Every and all words that spin around his head starts with you and finishes with his pounding heart close to bursting free from his ribcage. Not in the same way a flood rips through an unsuspecting village—more like the brilliance of a thousand doves, marble white plumage thrashing free from their gilded cage. Your lips taste like the core of a newborn star—scorching and yet still so sweet upon the tongue the same way caramelized sugar sticks to the roof your mouth. You are his first and last everything.

There’s a certain kind of tragedy hidden beneath your tongue, fragile promises and the eggshell thin shards of hope stapled to the roof of your mouth. Rex will take it—seize any threadbare strand and run with it—spool it into the palm of his hand until you’re wound so tightly together it’ll be impossible to untangle.

Just when the dizziness sets in from elation and not enough air, you part and leave a sticky trail of warm kisses up his jaw. Rex groans and hugs you closer, you humid breath blooming across his skin. “Let me take care of you.”

The words on his tongue crumble to ash once he nods in agreement. Your kisses dip lower, not even stopping when the reach the edge of his chest plate. Stars, you’re…he never entertained the idea that your lips could look so divine in contrast to the battered plastoid. When you fold onto your knees his heart leaps to his mouth, a flare of arousal flashing through his groin.

You rest your chin over his codpiece and smile. “Do you like seeing me on my knees, sir?”

Rex huffs and studies at the opposing wall—

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Your fingers find the claps over his codpiece. “Can I take this off?”

Rex jerks his head in a yes but grabs your wrist. Not a rough hold—a tentative one as hesitation swirls in his eyes. “Don’t—don’t have t’ do this for me—“

You quirk a brow. “I want to because I like you, Rexy.”

A rosy blush blooms over his sharp cheekbones. The captain nods again.

The codpiece clatters to the ground and immediately you move your hand to palm him through his blacks. He grunts and squeezes his eyes shut. There we go.

Biting your lip, you pull down his blacks as far as the plastoid plating allows, greeted with the hard length of his cock, beautiful and flushed a rosy brown. Fuck—he’s thicker than you thought. You wrap your fingers around the base, delighted by Rex’s airy gasp as he throbs in your palm. A bead of liquid shines at the tip and just the sight of it makes your mouth water.

Moons—you should’ve done this sooner.

With a stuttering inhale, Rex trails his forefinger along your cheek and tucks a stray hair behind your ear. The pads of his fingertips skim lower and lightly pinch your chin between his forefinger and thumb. Your eyes lift to meet his. “You—you sure?”

You answer with a kiss over the dip of his navel, the skin searing hot under your lips. Rex curses and rolls his head back onto his shoulders when your palm slides up the length of his cock and then back down. Your grip is firm and tight as Rex slumps onto the crate, goosebumps rushing up his exposed flesh. Stars, when’s the last time he’s gotten release like this?

You lean forward and lick a languid line from the velvety skin of his balls all the way up to the tip. Rex’s hips jolt. You purse your lips and suckle at the head, dipping your tongue over the slit then down to trace the ridge of his frenulum all the while your hand rolls up and down his shaft. Rex tangles his fingers into your hair with a hiss. You open your jaw a bit wider and take him down a few inches into the wet heat of your mouth, feeling your lips stretch around his cock. You you drag the flat of your tongue along the underside of his shaft to make the thickness easier to swallow down, but he's still only halfway into your mouth when he hits the back of your throat.

“Fuck—" Rex moans as his hips strain to remain still. “S’good—such a good girl.”

You glance up, eyes devouring the attractive length of his clean shaven throat and the underside of his chin. Rex swallows and let’s out another little sound. You whine softly in return and slip a hand into your pants, pressing your fingertips against your throbbing clit as you start to carefully bob your head up and down. Yeah—your jaw already aches just from holding his cock in in your mouth but fuck it—it’s worth it.

Rex's chest heaves with exertion as he mindfully rocks his hips up, pushing and rolling his cock deeper into your mouth until his shaft is nearly seated all the way in. Ditching your own pleasure entirely, you swallow around him, forcing down the urge to gag and simply hold him here. Allowing him a moment to just enjoy the soft warmth of your mouth before launching into the main event.

Rex murmurs your name and strokes his thumb over your cheek. “You’re beautiful—so pretty like—like this..ah—”

You pointedly hollow your cheeks and suck, his flattery warming your chest with pride. You swallow around him another time, squeeze his shaft, your fist following your mouth as you lift up then back down to the base. You grunt at the abrupt jolt of his hips. There’s no distinctive rhythm you can follow as you pull halfway up and let Rex rock his hips into your mouth—seeking out his pleasure without a coherent thought in sight. Just a cacophony of gasping breaths and rough moans of your name.

Soon enough he’s twitching in your mouth, his eyes fluttering shut as his head tips back onto his shoulders. The gloved hand sweetly cradling your cheek slips to the nape of your neck, tangling his fingers into you hair to anchor himself. He’s close—quiet gasps and broken curses tumbling out, hips unconsciously rocking into your mouth in search of release.

Rex whimpers your name, his leg jolting as you work your jaw wider and swallow him down, the dark curls tickling your nose once it brushes his groin. “Oh, fuck.”

You hum around him, delighting in the mumbled praises. Almost there…That’s it.

He’s dangling on the precipice—on tiny shove away from euphoria—

“Wait—“ Saliva dribbles down your chin when his cock pops out from your swollen lips, throbbing from the unintentional tease. “Maker—shit.”

If not for the gloves covering his hands, you’re sure they’d be turning white from how tightly he grips the edge of the crate. His eyes are squeezed shut, slightly bent forward as he falls away from the edge of his release. Rex sucks in a steadying breath, amber eyes meeting your confused ones.

“I don’t—can we—“ Rex’s eyes flit and focus on anything but you as he stutters and works up the courage to ask for what he wants. “Do we have time—“

You rolls your eyes and rest your cheek on his thigh. Silly man. “You wanna fuck me, Rexy?”

“Kriff, yes.”

You smile and wipe your mouth with the back of your hand. “I don’t think they’ll miss us."

Rex doesn’t complain when you take his hands and yank him onto the grubby floor and over your senatorial robes. He props his back against the crate as you shuck off everything below the waste and clamber into his lap. His hands, warm even through the leather, land over the swell of your hips and wrench you closer until your front presses up against his chest plate.

The rough prickle of his stubble is, in all sense of the word, addictive. He tilts his head to kiss you, the slick touch of his tongue on your bottom lip adding jet fuel to the fire low in your belly. Rex groans and cups your jaw, holding your mouth open to dance his tongue along the length of yours. You whine and shudder as he purses his lips and lightly sucks on your tongue before you both part.

Rex drags his teeth over your bottom lip as you both pant for precious air. His dark lashes sweep up his cheeks when he looks at you. This close you bare witness to the dazzling color of his eyes—crystalized pearls of amber over the crackled bark of pine tree in the midmorning sun. Muted gold threaded through the brown like fine lace and the slow shimmer of the sun dappled through water. To think such a man like him is dredged through the bloodied mud of war is despicable.

You blink away the swell of tears prickling at your eyes and kiss him once more. Sighing, you whisper down, mouthing soft nibbles and teasing kisses over his jaw and down his neck. Rex squirms and rock his hips up, your cunt clenching around nothing. You need him.

“Rex,” you groan. You slide your hand between your bodies and grab at his thick length. Rex gasps into your mouth, long fingers clamping onto your waist in a death grip. “I want you.”

“I’m yours.”

Your nibble at his earlobe as you grind your hips against his length, the folds of your cunt teasingly out of reach. “Touch me, Captain.”

Rex tears off his vambraces and gloves, hand wedging between your thighs, touching the very tips of his fingers to your throbbing clit. You whine and clench your jaw—the pleasure is raw—sizzling electricity that crackles with the deadly promises of your pleasure. It’s as if you’ve had the breath knocked out of your lungs the second he bears down a bit more on your clit, drawing tentative circles, each completion sending a shockwave of tightly spooled ecstasy through each and every nerve. You nearly sob as his fingers slip away.

“So wet already,” Rex moans as you tip your head back when two of his fingers begin circle your dripping cunt. They’re thick and long and perfect. Your hips stutter as your cunt easily accepts his fingers, the heel of his palm slotting perfectly against your pussy to stimulate your clit.

Maker you’re seeing stars as Rex rocks his hand into you—the bend of his fingers the perfect angle to catch all the right places that make you tremble. He kisses your cheek and moans your name into your ear, all low and gravelly—

Your body seizes up tight as you soar, plummeting off the edge only to tumble so fast and so hard that tears prick the corner of your eyes. Rex peppers kisses over your cheeks and runs his free hand through your hair, purring praise and adoration as you shudder—your mouth parted in a silent cry as you cum and dissolve into his hands.

When you suck in a steadying breath and open your eyes, Rex is gazing upon you with starstruck eyes—pure adoration that makes your cheeks flare hotter than the surface of two mini suns. Your teeth catch your bottom lip. You’re not sure you deserve to be looked at like this…

However, you’re impatient and running on stolen seconds. As much as you’d like to just simply stare at him—there’s not enough time. Rex wraps his fingers around the base of his cock and slides the tip of himself through your soaking folds. Each stroke against your still throbbing clit makes you buckle into yourself, but the angle that your knees are propped over his hips means you're stuck here.

Rex pauses and cups your cheek. His thumb scrapes over your cheekbone. “You want this?”

You place your hand over his and turn your head to mouth a kiss over the lines of his palm. Oh, fuck yeah. Kind of him to ask as if hadn’t just cum over his fingers but—no. “I need you to fuck me, Rex. That’s an order.”

Rex huffs out a low chuckle and bumps the crown of his forehead against yours. “As you wish, Senator.”

Rex runs the blunt head of his cock through your folds again, slicking himself up with your arousal. You mewl and dig your nails into the hard plastoid as the wide tip of him pushes into your entrance—he shudders as you clench and wiggle. It doesn’t hurt, but he’s in no small. You’ll feel him for days, you’re sure of it as your cunt swallows inch after inch.

You both groan as he finally bottoms out. His jaw his clenched tight as sweat beads at his blonde hairline—Stars above, he’s a sight, struggling not to loose control the second he’s buried inside of you. Desire tickles up your spine, tugging at the fabrics of your being until all you can focus on his how Rex isn’t moving. You shift your hips in tiny, almost imperceptible motions, and squeeze around him.

“Damn—“ A ragged moans slices through his words as your gentle rocking morphs into needy jolts. It’s easy to fuck yourself onto his cock like this, but the measly thrusts are meant to tempt him. “Fuck, cyare, you’re tight.”

You smirk and grab at his sculpted shoulders—it’s the push he needs. Rex snarls your name, cups his hands under the globes of your ass and pulls you off his cock nearly all the way out only to slam back in. There’s no time to adjust before Rex sets a pace, fevered and rabid All pent up energy collecting over the weeks you’ve known each other. Each roll of his hips borders erratic, taking his pleasure without thought—intent on reaching his own end after being denied for what feels like ages.

You squeal in surprise as Rex pushes you onto your back and hoists your legs around his hips. Rex buries his nose into the crook of your neck and moans your name like a sweet prayer wrapped in honeycomb. Rex shifts his weight, widening his knees to sink deeper into your cunt—his stubble tickling your throat as his staggered exhales burn hot over your skin.

You choke out a groan and feel your arousal begin to drip down your thighs—hear the thrusts of his cock into your cunt become shamefully wetter. Electric heat sears down each vertebrae in your spine, scorching through each and every veins with the catastrophic brilliance of an imploding star. Shit—

“So good t’me—so perfect,” he huffs into your ear. Rex turns his head and steals a kiss. “Feel fuckin’ good stretched around my cock."

You clench around him hard as Rex’s hand sneaks between your bodies and rubs tight, little circles over you swollen clit. There’s barely any build up to your orgasm—just a blinding surge of devastating warmth that sweeps through your body, from your aching center down to your toes. It steals away all the air left in your lungs and leaves your clutching his arm and shuddering for a hold in your own reality—the steady warmth of his body that’s unburdened by armor a much needed anchor for the madness that threatens to drown you.

His gentle, and pliant kisses morph into little pricks of his teeth over your neck and collar bone as his hips struggle to keep a definitive pattern. Rex’s curses string together and blur into nonsensical noises and loose tongue admittances that are comparable to moving inches from an imploding star.

“Where can—can I?”

You grab at his head and whine his name. “Anywhere—in me—you can cum in me.”

With a loving caress over back of his neck and a sweet whisper of his name, he reaches release. Rex’s moan is airy as his eyes slam shut and captures your mouth in a sizzling kiss. He’s twitching in your arms as his hips erratically jerk, hot spurts of his release coating your insides and beginning to leak over your robes you lay over. Whatever.

Rex nips at your skin as the last dregs of pleasure jolt up your spine. Neither of you say a word as Rex’s hips come to a slow. Time trickles through your fingers like sand through an hourglass half empty but instead of rushing to dress, you choose to lie on the ground—two halves of a mess someone’s been meaning to clean up for the better part of a long while. You feel at home here—content as your fingers run up and down the back of his head, a bit irked by the armor still covering his back. You’re terrified of the months to come—but at least you have each other. After all, gardens will bloom and flourish with fresh blooded love and wild mistakes sculpted from passion forever if you believe hard enough…wont they?

#we out here #yeehaw #my writing #captain rex x reader #captain rex x you #ct-7567 #captai rex #clone x reader #clone trooper x reader #the clone wars #tcw #anakin skywalker #obi wan kenobi #star wars #sw

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