#i have been trying to do the inspect bullshit for weeks

[underrateddoormatt]

If you want to view Chegg answers without paying use this website

homeworkify.net

[deliciousbasementtrash]

Playing Nurse for the Batfam

Artist: https://www.instagram.com/twalxxart/ Twalxx

Summary: you are a nurse working for Gotham General Hospital. Batman has offered you a job. You are now a nurse for the entire Batfamily. There has been an emergency and you have been called into the line of fire. You have been injured by the Black Mask, how will Jason react?

Pairing: Slowburn Jason Todd x Female!reader

Warning: Adult language, mentions of gunshots and death

Word Count: 2.4k

Masterlist

Note: These characters are not my own they belong to DC. The only character that is 'mine' is the reader. I am going to be as nondescript as possible for the reader as well for physical attributes. This is a continuation series; I’m not sure how long it will be. Also for some reason, my replies to comments are not showing up. I’m not ignoring your comments Tumblr won’t let me respond :( But please, please comment I live for it

Part 9: If I Have to Throw You Over My Shoulder I Will

***********************************************************

Jason Todd

[Jason, please we need backup. We need you.] Dick had sent about ten minutes ago. 

Some dark part of me wanted to do nothing. The part of me that was tortured and beaten. The part of me that was angry no one cared enough to avenge me. But I loved Dick like he was my flesh and blood. And whether I admit it to myself or not… I love Bruce the same way.

Often I think about how my life led me down this way. Was it fate? Was it God? Was it just dumb fucking luck? 

There is one theory I keep circling back to. The Red String Theory. At birth, we have invisible red strings tying us to the people we are destined to meet. Was I tied to my parents? Bruce? Alfred? Dick? Tim? Barbara? Steph? Cass? Damian? Duke? Or even… him? 

That’s too many. If that’s true, my fate lines look more like a messy evidence board. Or maybe a fucked up marionette puppet. Like I was made to be influenced by those tied to me. Pushed and pulled. Just a vessel of violence. 

But the Red String Theory couldn’t be true. At least not for me. I’m so covered in red. You can’t pull a red thread out of a sea of blood.

My morbid thoughts halted when I saw Pizza Joe’s. I parked off to the side. In an alley, no one could see. I approached the gunshots, listening for Dick. Boy Wonder was nowhere to be seen, but I made mental notes of the men that were perched on the buildings. 

I made my way discreetly around the building, toward the back. My heart stopped dead in my chest.

Y/n was pinned against the wall. With a gun in her mouth. Fighting with everything in her against the Black Mask.

Something in me snapped. Without hesitation I shot twice at his arm, severing the flexor digitorum profundus and rendering his index and middle finger useless. I shot through his stupid fucking masked head. I shot through his heart. I shot through the bastard's fucking dick. I shot. And I shot. And I shot. No one hurts her. Ever.

I barely noticed Bruce as I stepped over him. I could have checked his pulse, his status, anything. But all I cared about was getting to her. 

Anger and fear surged inside me, at the sight of seeing her covered in blood. I started to panic. My chest felt like one thousand pounds of pressure was crushing me. All I could do to calm myself down was to pull her into my arms and hug her tight enough that I felt her heartbeat against mine. She’s alive. She’s alive. She’s alive.

I had stayed away from her this past week. Trying to keep her safe from whatever bullshit I would bring her. But here she was finding the danger all on her own. Without me to make sure she was safe.

Seeing her face, feeling her against my body, lit something up inside me. Anger surged.

“Why the fuck are you here?” I growled.

***********************************************************

Jason grabbed my chin, slowly moving it from side to side, inspecting my blood-spattered face. His mouth was moving but all I could hear was the damn ringing in my skull. Jason frowned and looked at both my ears. I felt a warmth run down the left side of my neck. 

Jason leaned into my right side, his cold helmet brushed against the shell of my ear making me shiver. “You’re hurt.” The words were simple. But they were laced with bitterness and anger that went beyond reason.

I looked up at his Red Hood, “Dick needs your help.” I couldn’t tell if I was screaming the words or saying them at a reasonable volume. I couldn’t gauge Jason’s reaction either which annoyed me. I wanted to rip that helmet off and see his face. 

“I’m looking at someone that needs my full attention right now. Grayson can handle himself,” he snarled the words at me. 

Gunshots sounded loud enough for me to hear. My brain started spiraling into the worst-case scenario. A Dick Grayson riddled with bullets involuntarily entered my mind. “Please help him. Please, Jason.” I grabbed his arm as I begged. His bicep tensed under my grip. 

“I’m not leaving you alone,” he ground out. “Get behind me.” Despite his harsh tone, he gently moved me behind him. His broad shoulders and generous height covered me completely. I kept a hand at the base of his hip. Ready to heal him if needed. 

There were four shooters surrounding Dick, and three on the buildings, all pointing their guns at him. Jason opened a pocket on his thigh and reloaded his right gun one-handed. He was so smooth with the movement it was like he was doing something simple like buttering toast. He was dexterous at a level I can only describe as masterful. 

Jason aimed at an impossible speed and precision. Seven shots rang out. Seven men fell. I don’t even think they realized Jason was enemy fire until they already had a bullet fly through them. It was seemingly impossible. 

Jason didn’t give me a chance to assess Dick or Bruce before throwing me over his shoulder and walking away.

“I need to help them! Jason! Jason, listen to me!” I yelled and slapped the back of his leather jacket. He ignored me or I didn’t hear his response. Knowing him, most likely the former.

Suddenly, he moved me off his shoulder and straddled me onto his motorcycle. My mind was acutely aware of his large hands pinning my waist down.

“Grayson is fine. He will take care of Bruce and your car. I’m taking you home. Now.” He was leaning toward my good ear again, his voice was dark and commanding. Lighting a certain part of me on fire. Who am I kidding, my whole being burned. 

“I am fine, Jason. Really. You got there in time. Just let me heal the boys and I’ll go with you!” I sneered at him.

“How about no,” Jason sneered back and straddled onto the motorcycle behind me. His firm body was flush against the entire back side of mine. My breathing became uneven when he reached his arms around me and revved his motorcycle before accelerating. I tried not to lean back into him. But he was so warm and I was so tired. Jason must have felt my tension. His hand found my hip, as he continued steering with the other. He pushed back, forcing my body to melt into his. 

“I’ve got you,” he said, making me shiver. 

Gotham was a blur of lights as Jason drove us back to the Batcave. In a record, 6 minutes. Which I tried not to take personally.

He rode us through the entrance, and as close as he could get to my workstation. He got off quickly as if trying to get away from me. But just as quickly scooped me up from my underarms and placed me on top of my examination table. I blushed at the firm way he moved me around. Like I was his to just grab and move as he pleased. He was an extremely strong man. He made it seem like it was no effort at all. 

He roughly took off the Red Hood. His hair was a wild mess. His eyes were dark with what appeared to be anger and concern. His breathing quickened as he looked me over.

“What blood is yours?” He curtly asked, messily digging into my neat supplies. I tried not to cringe as he did. With his mask off it was a lot easier to understand him because I could read his lips and vaguely hear him.

I looked down at my red-stained hands. I curled them up and down. The blood was sticky and cracked. Suddenly, an assault of memories flooded my mind.

The hospital wing after the mass shooting—healing a man being tortured over and over for information—my mom's bloody nose—my bloody legs dripping into my sneakers. Breathing became sharp and rushed. 

A hand gently caressed my face, “Hey, hey. It’s just me. It’s Jason,” his voice and touch was gentle. Easing my mind back to reality. When I was no longer trapped in my own mind I realized that Jason was once again cleaning up my hands. He washed the blood off of them until you never knew I had stabbed a man in the neck. 

His hands were warm and calloused and thorough. For a moment he just held my hands in his. His thumb traced small circles on the inside of my wrist causing goosebumps to rise on my skin. Slowly, he trailed upward to my forearm, and an angry sigh left his mouth. Wordlessly, he cleaned and tended my cut. Wordlessly, he wiped the blood and brain matter from my face and neck. Wordlessly, he took off my stained hoodie and disgusting scrubs. Until I was left in my white undershirt and tight black shorts. 

His eyes were hard and staring just above the curve of my breast. Right where my heart rapidly beat. Right where the Black Mask had made a small but deep cut. And then his eyes trailed upward. Toward my bruised neck, and burned cheek. 

“I should have killed him slower,” he growled out. I hadn’t realized how close Jason was to me. Somehow he had gotten between my legs and mere inches away from my face. My cheeks heated, as I took in the oddly delicate features of this harsh man. He had a very light sprinkling of freckles across his nose. His eyes were more of a stormy gray than blue. His eyelashes were so pretty and long I wanted to slap him. And his Cupid’s bow was sharp and defined which highlighted his full lips. I swallowed roughly. 

“Thank you, for—for helping me,” I whispered, afraid that if I spoke any louder I might scare him off. 

Jason scoffed angrily, “You shouldn’t have been in that position in the first place. I’m going to beat Bruce with an inch of his life—”

Gently, I gripped Jason’s hand, “I chose this. Don’t be mad at Bruce. If anything, be mad at me. I should have been more prepared. I should have brought a weapon.” 

Jason leaned his forehead in so it was just barely touching mine. I involuntarily held my breath. 

His hands reached for mine as he traced along my old burns. “We are bad for you.” He whispered. 

“You guys have given me a part of myself that I thought was lost forever. How could that ever be bad?” I lifted a hand hesitantly up toward his cheek. Jason leaned in like he was desperate for the contact. For comfort. For me. 

“I can’t get you out of my head. I want—” Jason’s soft words were interrupted by the screeching of my car followed by the Batmobile. Jason practically jumped five feet away from me. I frowned at the lack of contact.

Well, Bruce is well enough to drive, that’s good. Pretty fucking shit timing though, Batboy. 

I lowered myself from the table. I tried hiding my wince, but I saw Jason tense. He reached forward steadying me, before scolding, “Do not push yourself for them.” 

Dick came out of my car with a large dimpled smile and a huge ugly shinner. Bruce looked pale but better. I motioned for them to sit where I was just perched. Ready to finish healing them.

Bruce was simple. I just had to re-patch him up. Finish what I started. Dick was a bit more complicated. Homie had the snot beat out of him. One of the bright sides was that he wasn't shot. 

When I was done, both Dick and Bruce politely excused themselves to their rooms. 

I slowly cleaned up my workstation. Jason silently helped me. His mouth was a firm line. 

My hands shook with exhaustion when I was done. My eyes went in and out of focus. My head was pounding from the exertion and the physical trauma. I covered my bad ear, trying to will the ringing to stop. Jason noticed and gently pulled me to him. Before I knew it he had his arm under my knees and back, and he cradled me into the elevator.

I snorted at him, “I’m fine, Jason, really. Don’t go through the trouble of carrying me.”

“I think I want to rip that word out of your vocabulary,” he snapped. “Let me just carry you. Don’t make it a big deal.”

My heart sank, and I whispered, “Okay. I’m sorry.”

“While I’m at it, I’ll take that one too,” he said, pressing the button number 4. Our floor number. “Don’t lie to me and tell me you’re fine. Don’t ever apologize for existing.” He huffed and paused, “Please.”

I nodded, not sure what to say. The elevator ride went by shockingly quickly. He walked past his room and into mine. He set me down on my bed gently. He pulled my blankets back and covered me. I got deja vu as he did it. I smiled under my covers. 

Jason pulled an armchair towards my bed. He angled it so he could see both the door and the windows. I looked at him, confused. 

He shrugged at me, “I didn’t like seeing a man have a gun in your mouth. I actually don’t think I saw it for more than two seconds before everything went red.”

“So, that explains why you’re watching me in my armchair because…”

Hashbrown barrelled toward Jason. She rubbed her body on his feet demanding attention. Jason swiftly picked her up and held her on his lap. She seemed to soothe him as he pet her. The tension in his body decreased, instead of ramrod straight he leaned back. Almost comfortable, but not quiet. 

“Because I need to make sure that you’re okay,” he said after a few minutes went by. 

“Why?” I asked, needing an answer. 

“I don’t like it when you’re hurt. Or in danger,” he answered. 

“Why?” I demanded, again. 

He roughly raked a hand through his messy hair, “I don’t know why. I just feel like… like you’re mine to protect. You put all your energy into healing other people. You deserve someone to care if you’re healthy and safe.” 

I think only two people in the world have ever cared about that. Sam and my mom. His words were like wildfire to my mind and body. 

Warmth bloomed in my chest, followed by boldness, “Do you have to protect me from all the way over there? Or can you protect me in my bed?”

Taglist: @soundsfunbutno @killxz @morpheus-girl @redhood414 @bungunz @conicoroahre @greenyofthegreens @taytaylala12 @theroyalmanatee @nym-0-s @sarahskywalker-amadala @bonesbonesetc @dreaming-of-the-reality @gone-batty-fics @thescarletcryptid @bakugosgf2005 @irregular-child @vythika96 @greenyofthegreens @mythicalmo @eccentricarabella-blog @princessbl0ss0m @ghostindeath @whirlwind2005 @the-lights-are-loud @00hellohello00 @tfygcdy @theblindhag @murkyponds @midnightecko @crookedmakerfury @cosmicqueenieb @deans-spinster-witch @princessbl0ss0m

If I missed anyone please let me know <3

Author's note: Thank you all so much for your kind words, comments, messages, and interactions!! They inspire me to keep writing. I hope you guys continue to enjoy the story, thank you again <3

Hashbrown Cam!

[korpuskat]

Spectrum

[Ao3 Mirror] Pairing: Ramattra/Reader Rating: Mature (sexual content referenced, but not explicit) WC: 2,918 Warnings: None Sequel to In A Different Light -----

The lackey behind the counter hardly looks up, barely says anything as they pass you the repair request forms. It's fine, you get it. Menial labor, repetitive office bullshit, dealing with the guys who walk their mechs into walls when training while trying to avoid the higher-ups gaze. Normal Talon stuff. This is perfectly true until he asks you what floor of the barracks you're on, what wing.

And suddenly the lady behind him perks up. She doesn't even try to hide how she looks you over, making some unspoken assessment, then grins and returns to her tablet.

The barely suppressed smile infects his voice with excitement. "Don't suppose you're in 1813, are you?"

Oh. Fuck. "Yeah, I am."

"Kinda wondering when you'd make it down here." He says, typing in your information. "If you would."

You shouldn't say anything. You really, really shouldn't.

"Why wouldn't I?"

"Oh, you know." He grins at you, fucking winks like you're in on the joke. "There was a pool if you'd be here or the infirmary first."

The infirmary? Why would you- actually, he did break your bed and leave a hole in your wall and you have had this peculiar ache behind your belly button and you definitely have huge purple splotches over your hips where he'd grabbed you, so, okay, that's fair.

"I guess you won then." Is the light-lipped answer you come up with, unsure how to explain that you really don't want to be part of this conversation anymore. Please, just fix your bed and wall. Gossip when you're not around.

The guy opens his mouth- and you feel it before his expression changes. A cool wind brushes against the back of your neck, down your spine, over the backs of your arms. Sickly, somehow, like the air itself clings to you, crawls on you. Everyone behind the counter looks away. His joy is gone, but the fear is carefully masked. "Reason for repairs?"

Behind you, boots stomp by. He doesn't leave, from the sound, from the way nobody exhales. You don't look, keep your eyes trained on the counter, on a little fleck where the linoleum is peeling away. He's somewhere in a corner, waiting for something. "Accident."

The lackey visibly cringes. Suddenly he, too, doesn't want to be in this conversation. "Gotta be more specific."

Fucker. Your voice is barely restrained as you bite out, "Sparring accident."

Behind you, the Reaper snorts.

When Ramattra returns to your base, perhaps only two weeks later, you really expect him to just proceed as business as usual. Like nothing had happened; he'd sated his curiosity, you're off his radar. Figuratively. You do not, under any circumstances, expect to be pulled off regular duties to be part of his temporary squadron.

It's a formality. He doesn't need one. He's here to inspect an airship, to discuss modifications to be made before it goes into mass production.

With an irritated sigh and wave of his hand, he summarily dismisses the entire squadron as soon as he sees them waiting in the hangar. The rest leave. You should join them. It's so... presumptuous, to think he thinks about you, that he even remembers you. He's leading a revolution for his people and you're a grunt he fucked once. But your boots may as well have been glued to the floor, no matter how much you want to scream at yourself to move, to turn away, you can't.

And his gaze settles on you.

And he nods towards the airship's ramp.

You follow behind him.

It's the first time you watch him leave. Every time before- three, now, not that you're counting- he's quietly departed your quarters. After making sure you're well cared for. That part had always confused you- left your chest aching in a way completely different than your hips.

But this time, you're not left alone in your mattress working up the courage to go file a repair request again. No, as part of his squadron you get to see him off this time. It's all a show, Ramattra had complained about it before- serves nothing but to boost their little human egos. He wasn't wrong, there's no need for you to be here. In fact, you really don't want to be here.

You've never seen Doomfist in person, but he personally escorts Ramattra to his shuttle. He speaks confidently, but quietly enough you can't make out what he's saying, even as he gestures broadly with his cybernetic arm. Even seeing him content makes your stomach flip uneasily, not wanting to be around if something does go wrong.

Ramattra... looks different. It's hard to believe how quickly you've become used to seeing him relaxed. Not just when he's moving in you- no, even when he sits with you, walks about the base, he never looks like this anymore. All seriousness and focused, the weight of the world back on his shoulders.

They speak a moment more, then Ramattra bows his head and turns towards his ship. He stops-

and across the launch bay, Ramattra's faceplate turns towards you. He pauses. Says nothing, hardly moves- but you know. He's looking directly at you. You stare back, unsure why you have his attention now- and ever so slightly his head dips. A tiny nod goodbye, just for you.

Your chest aches.

You smile slightly and nod back- and he's gone, entering his ship and flying away.

You don’t know who finally made the call to assign Ramattra temporary quarters at your base, but you would love to have seen that conversation. Because Ramattra’s voice is perfectly neutral as he comments that his quarters had not only a heavy duty, solid steel bed frame to support his weight- nevermind that he doesn’t sleep- but also reinforced walls.

They knew, of course. But the fact that someone high up enough knew to make the recommendation is what really gets you. Because nobody has said anything to you. Maybe they’re smart enough to- you doubt Ramattra would be particularly pleased with you being public knowledge.

And, well, not saying anything has ended up being your approach with Ramattra so far, too. Despite the frequency that he’d return to your doorway (and now you to his), or the repeated repair requests and occasional trips to medical and skeptical looks in return, you’d never explicitly asked what was going on. What exactly you were to him.

And normally that would be fine! Soldier’s bond or whatever, some bullshit to say “logistically and emotionally easiest lay.” It’s common enough. But you’ve never laid in a squadmate’s bed hours after, never dozed lightly in someone else’s blankets as they work at the desk a foot away- and never felt that perhaps that was still too far from you.

It’s the latter right now that sits heavy on your chest.

You shift beneath his sheets- a silky, deep purple that ripples with every moment. You watch, silent, as he turns some kind of device in his hands, taps it occasionally with an electric soldering iron. You sit up slowly, lean into his pillows. Even the pillowcases match. Probably actual silk knowing Talon’s propensity to keep their board members happy. Fuckers. He doesn’t even meditate on the bed.

“Ramattra,” The question bubbles out of you before you can stop it. “Can I… kiss you?”

He stills. But here, you must acknowledge how close you’ve gotten- because you can tell. Where someone else may feel that pang of fear, that his quiet is a wind-up to rage or impatience or condescension, no, you can read his shoulders perfectly. He’s genuinely contemplating the request.

He looks to you, and he doesn’t need a face for you to feel the incredulity in his voice. “You do understand I do not possess a mouth, correct?”

“I know.” You stand and sweep one thin blanket with you as you move to him. And here- he turns away from his project, sets his iron down, opens his arms for you. When you settle into his lap, he supports you- and when you reach for his face, his jaw, he lowers his head into your touch. You sweep a thumb across the lowest part of the white composite, feel the little crease between it and the purple of his jaw plate. “But I could still kiss you..”

His whole face rumbles into your palm as he hums, considering this. “Alright, though I do not understand what you would gain from this.”

And that is a lie, though you’re not sure who it’s for. It’s fine though, you don’t call him on it. Instead, you guide his head down as you stretch up- until your breath ghosts against him, leaving little puffs of foggy condensation. And you kiss him. Right across the seam between his plates, your lips squishing into the gap, flattening against his metal.

And it would be like kissing a training bot, all cold, motionless metal against your lips- and that must be what he expects you to feel, his disbelief you’d get anything from this. It would be, except for everything else about him. His hands come up to the curve of your spine, to the back of your head, cradling you so gently- and even with such a small display, his fans kick up, a quiet hum purring a hair louder from his chest. Without a mouth, he’s hardly unaffected- and against his faceplate you smile and pull away. His optics cannot, by design, be half-lidded and glazed, but you think they would be if they could.

“Did that… satisfy you?” He rumbles lowly.

“For now.” You grin and tuck yourself deeper into his lap. When he realizes you have no intention of returning to his bed, he makes a show of sighing and adjusting the stolen blanket so you’re well-wrapped and all the ends are tucked safely away before he returns to his work.

"Can I ask you a question?" You murmur, eyes still closed. He's foregone the blanket this time, holding you right up against his chest; you had curled up with him so quickly he hasn't even had time to put his paneling back on. The spars of his ribs are a little uncomfortable, but he's still so warm that you can't complain.

"Of course." His systems have already refreshed, perfectly capable of going on with his day. Unlike you, you're still wavering and floaty and in need of a shower. He's used to it. Being able to hold you afterwards is... enjoyable. He allows himself to trace shapes over your skin. He had noticed, once, how you smile softly when he does it.

"It's personal."

Ramattra's head shifts, looks down at you slightly. He's told you about himself. About the times before he was himself, about the Shambali, about the slave shops he's destroyed, about London. About Lanet. What could you possibly ask that you felt the need to warn him about first? "Go on."

"Who did you make your dick for?" Oh. He shifts awkwardly, ceases the motions of his hands. When he doesn't answer you continue, "You told me you didn't make it for humans, so, I dunno. Was just curious."

It takes several moments before he can manage to put together a stilted "Does it matter?"

You hum softly and lean back against him. "No." You swap the places of your hand with his, sweeping your thumb across the purple plating. You really didn't want to upset him- the likelihood his previous relationships have ended particularly badly is ridiculously high. "It's okay, you don't have to tell me about your exes. Like I said, just curious."

Ramattra has never quite understood the desire to grimace until now. It's not important, and yet... that annoying little whisper has returned to his circuits, prodding at his runtimes until he's forcing the words through his synth. "I don't... have any... 'exes'."

This makes the gears turn in your head. There's no way. "Like... you just didn't stay with any of them?" Even as hectic as his life has been, you cannot reconcile how tenderly he's holding you with him previously being a smash and dasher. It would make sense logistically- no danger of loss or being tied down and losing focus on his work, but… there’s just no way.

"No." He all but squirms. "I never used it before you."

"What?"

"I designed it for..." His voice cuts out as his vocoder fights him again. "...a particular omnic. To their model's... specifications. But I never used it."

You twist around in his arms, as much as he'd prefer you didn't. It's uncomfortable enough without having to see your face, without his still-not-put-away dick pressed between your bodies. "But... you told me you'd fucked before."

Around you, Ramattra bristles, his fans ramping up, his hands firming where they touch you. Too far, you did upset him. "Omnics do not need things as crude as genitals to be intimate."

The pieces come together. Not an ex, they'd been intimate, enough that he'd designed a dick just to hope, but never used it. He wanted more. You slide a hand around Ramattra's neck, over the dark plating his cowl usually hides. Normally, when you slide your fingers around the chunky cables of his mane, he'll purr or at least relax- no such luck. "Sorry," You murmur, and trace a finger along the long line of his jaw piece. "Thank you for telling me."

It takes a few moments, but eventually a soft stream of hot air slips from Ramattra's vents and he sighs. You take the cue and curl up close to him, wrapping your arms around him as best you can with his wide chest. When you think he's calmed enough, you do tack on one last comment. "I am glad you made it, though."

Thankfully, Ramattra laughs softly at that.

Ramattra holds white papers in his hand, carefully held between the rubber pads there, delicate as to not crease them before you can read them. His other hand twitches as his side, then balls into a fist. He does not meet your gaze when he enters his room. He stands there, just past the doorway, clenching and unclenching his fist, his fans slowly amping up.

"Rama?" You prompt him when he still doesn’t say anything, already scooting to the edge of his bed.

"I have to attend to the construction of a titan in person." It's flat, a statement, no particular inflection in his voice where you're clearly expecting something else. "I won't be able to return here for several weeks. At minimum."

Now it's you who looks away. It's a disappointment. You knew it was coming, three days together was already an incredible luxury. "Ah, I see." He's busy, you know this. Lots of hard work running an entire revolution almost by yourself. And you can't fault him for it- can't ask him to postpone. It's important work. "When will you have to leave?"

"Five hours. I'm also chartering transport of supplies. My omnium is short on copper wire, of all things." He says- and his focus shifts from the floor to the paper in his hands. He rubs it, watches as the paper flexes and bends, then returns to normal. You, too, observe his fidgeting and wait for the shoe to drop. You've always kind of waited for it.

"Are you- " He starts- and his synth immediately fizzles. The hand at his side tightens in frustration as he reboots it. "Are you pleased with... this?" The paper flops in his hand as he gestures vaguely between you.

This.

Never did have that conversation.

You bite your tongue, chance looking at him. None of the strain in his vocoder has made it to his faceplate, forever stuck in that passive, almost angry expression. "Yeah." If he wants to kick you out, that's fine, but you aren't going to lie about it. His visits to your base have easily become the best part of your job, the occasional message of where he is, of when he can make it back to you- it's completely different than anything you've had before. "Yeah, actually."

Ramattra's shoulders drop. "You are sure? Genuinely?"

You nod. And he holds out the paper. You don't even unfold it before he's explaining. "It's a reassignment order. Production of Null Troopers is increasing geometrically; ideally I would oversee all production lines directly from here on. It would be... advantageous to have someone else coordinate with Talon on my behalf while I am engaged with this.

"I will be very occupied. This is a critical period of staging. And I would be relying on you." Ramattra says, and there's a sternness laid over top. He wants it to sound like a job offer, to sound serious. It is, to some degree. But more than that-

"You..." The top of the paper is printed with Talon's logo, a big block of text follows, beneath is a signature line. Your eyes skim the page again- and read the most important line. Relocate to meet the needs of Null Sector. "You want me to come with you?"

A breath of silence takes the room, until he steps closer and takes one of your hands in his. So gently, he drags the rubber pad of his thumb over your knuckles. His faceplate focuses there, on the delicate bones of your hand, your wrist. "It would... please me greatly to keep you near."

The ache in your chest blooms out, spills over your cheeks.

[thetriumphantpanda]

Howdy Charlie 🤠 l have been enjoying these new fic releases from you. You’re amazing and I love reading your work at the end of the day to unwind.

I’m not in a hurry as I’ve read you’re taking a break but if you do get inspired to write again, can I please request

❛ you are losing my interest, and that’s very dangerous. ❜ & ❛ promise me you’ll still be here when i wake up. ❜

Pre-outbreak where reader does something that causes a huge fight with Joel and they ignore each other for days then reader thinks it’s the end of their relationship so she packs her bag to leave without a word but Joel comes home earlier than expected and stops her and they get into another fight before reconciling and he shows his sweeter side to make up to her . Can you make it EXTREMELY angsty and a lil fluffy in the end.

Thank you! 😘

Anon, when I say that I've had this fic sitting in my drafts FOR WEEKS I'm not even lying. I absolutely loved this prompt but idk I couldn't make it seem right... I've done my best, I really hope you enjoy it! I'm just on my Joel Miller bullshit atm, don't judge me.

Pairing | Pre-Outbreak Joel Miller x Female Reader

Word Count | 3k

Warnings | Some angst, some fluff, mentions of alcohol, mean!Joel at one point, SMUT - oral (f receiving) no use of y/n and I think that's it.

Main Masterlist

There was something about Joel Miller that had you smitten from the start. Maybe it was the fact that he was so different to the stupid college boys you’d been wasting your time with, or maybe it was the fact that he was devastatingly handsome, or the fact that whenever you were together, he would make it his mission to make you come enough times that you forgot your name before he even thought about taking pleasure for himself. Whatever it was he was different, and you were pretty sure you loved him. 

He'd barreled into your life headfirst a few months ago. Your car had given up the ghost on a small country road and you had no cell service to call a recovery. There had been a moment of dread when his truck had pulled up behind yours, this is how so many girls died in those documentaries you’d watched, but when he stepped out of his truck and that Southern drawl had hit your ears, you thought that even if he was going to murder you and leave you in a ditch, you wouldn’t mind all that much. Got you out of finishing your thesis if nothing else. 

“You stranded, sugar?” He’d called out, keeping his distance enough to reassure you he wasn’t going to try anything stupid. 

“Yeah,” You called back, “I have no idea what’s wrong with it and there’s no cell service.”

“You want me to take a look?” 

“You a mechanic?” You ask, raising an eyebrow.

“Not exactly, but I’m good with my hands.” 

The innuendo isn’t lost on either of you, you smirk but give him a signal to look at your car. He pops the hood and takes a few minutes to look around, “Was it steaming when you pulled over?” He asks. 

“Yeah.” You admit. 

“Looks like it’s just overheated, sugar,” He muses, “Not much to do but sit and wait for it to cool down a little,” You pull a face at the thought of having to sit in your car without the air con, “I don’t got anywhere to be so you can sit in my truck with me for a bit?” He offers, “The air-con is on.” He adds, sweetening the deal. 

So you do. You sit with him for an hour, talking about your master’s programme and how stressed you are with your thesis. He talks about his work, bailing his brother out of jail for the second time that week and his daughter Sarah. When the sun starts to set, he jumps out of his truck to inspect your engine again, deeming it safe to drive. 

“Well, thanks,” You say as you sit in the driver’s seat and start the engine up, “Literally don’t know what I’d have done if it weren’t for you.” 

“You’d have let it sit, tried turning the key a little while later and been fine,” He chuckles, “But you’re welcome, it was nice meetin’ you.” 

“Joel-” You call as he tries to walk away, “Can I maybe buy you a drink to say thank you?” 

He turns around and smirks at you, “You askin’ me on a date?” 

“Would you say yes if I was?” You arch an eyebrow at him. 

“I’d be a fool not to, sugar.” 

It’s cliché for you to say but the rest really was history. You’d bought him a drink to say thank you a few days later, he’d bought you more because he liked your company. You’d snuck him into your room a few hours after that, managing to dash past the kitchen where your housemates were having dinner, where he’d spent an hour knelt between your legs, lapping at your pussy and then fucked you better than anyone had ever done in your life. 

It was summer break now. Sarah was away at camp for a few weeks, your thesis finally done and submitted. Joel had suggested that you stay with him, he’d mumbled something about it being nice not having to sneak around to see each other and you had to admit he was right. Waking up next to him with streams of sunlight illuminating his face, that was priceless. Making him breakfast before he went to work, domesticated but you loved it. 

It had been two weeks of that, with another one still to come before Sarah came home and you had to go back to the small room in your shared apartment. One of your friends had invited you out on Saturday night – a way for you all to celebrate being done with studies. You’d planned to go back to Joel’s that night, he’d even given you money for the cab ride home – but one too many tequila shots and a dead cell phone later, you’d been led back to your apartment by your friends, plugged your phone in to charge and promptly fallen asleep. 

When you’d woken up the next morning there was dread in your stomach, reading through the texts from Joel last night. Ten missed calls and texts that read where r u and please let me know ur safe. 

You dressed as quickly as you could, grabbing your phone and keys before you called a cab to pick you up. You knew you’d fucked up. You wanted to call him, let him know you were okay, but this was something you’d have to do face to face. It took far longer to get to Joel’s, Sunday morning traffic proving a challenge as you left the city and headed for the suburbs. You took a deep breath as you fit his spare key into the door and opened it. 

“Where the fucking hell have you been?” He asks when you shut the door and put your keys on the side table, “I’ve been worried sick about you all night.” 

“I’m sorry Joel,” You mumble, you really were, “We got carried away and then my phone died, and my housemates just dragged me back to my apartment, I was just going to charge my phone a little and then come back here but I must have fallen asleep.” 

“You didn’t think to use that landline’a yours?” He was sat on the couch, but he’d turned his body towards you in the doorway, he was pissed. 

“I’m sorry Joel, okay, it was a stupid mistake, what more do you want me to say?” 

“I gave you money to get home, told you to tell someone to remind you that’s where you were going, what were you thinking goin’ out and gettin’ so drunk you couldn’t remember where you were going home?!” 

“Don’t you dare make this out like I was outta control!” You counter, “I was safe Joel, I was with my friends, I’m not fucking stupid.” 

“Doesn’t seem that way to me.” He’s standing now, taking steps towards you. 

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” 

“Should’a fuckin’ known,” He says, mostly to himself, “Don’t think about anyone but yourself, silly little girl.” 

His words cut through you like a knife. He’d never once made you feel like this. Despite the ten-year age gap you’d always seemed like his equal. Not now, now you felt small and insignificant. 

“You are losing my interest and that’s very dangerous.” Is all he says next.

“Fuck you Joel Miller,” You spit at him, reaching for your keys, “You think you’re doing me a favour? Letting me stay in your nice big house playing families? All you wanted was a fucking maid the way you’ve been behaving.” 

You’re out of the door, slamming it behind you and pulling your car out of his driveway in record time. You make it to the end of the round and a little way around the corner before you have to pull over and sob into your hands. 

*

Four days. Four miserable fucking days and he hadn’t even bothered to text you. You’d moped around in your room for the first twenty-four hours. Then your housemate had practically forced herself in because she thought you’d died. You’d cried to her about how unfair it was, then she’d made you sit on the couch, drink too much wine and watch shitty reruns. 

If it had been four days and he hadn't bothered to message, then it really must be over, right? You led in bed that morning running through all the things you’d left at his house that you really did need back. You still had the spare key, and you knew he’d be at work until later this evening, so you push yourself out of the tangle of sheets, get dressed and make the drive over. 

Thankfully when you arrive his truck is nowhere to be seen. Definitely at work then. You open the front door, closing it behind you softly. You take a moment when you step in to remember all the times you’d been happy here. The time you’d helped him make Sarah’s birthday cake, or the time you’d snuggled up under the blanket together on the sofa and fallen asleep watching a movie. The time he’d hoisted you up onto the kitchen counter and eaten you out like it was his last meal. Or the time you’d not made it up the stairs and he’d fucked you from behind halfway up the steps. Tears pricked at your eyes. Foolish. Silly Little Girl, thinking he might be the one, just like he’d said. 

You wiped angrily at your eyes and made your way up the stairs to his room, trying to block out the shiver down your spine as you thought of the long nights and lazy mornings you’d spent wrapped up in his bed. You find your duffle bag in the bottom of his wardrobe, you set it on the bed and start pulling clothes from his drawers, shoving them as quickly as you can into the bag. 

You’re setting a bottle of perfume into it when you hear a key in the door. You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. Of all the days he could come home for lunch, it had to be this one. 

“Sugar?” You hear him tentatively call from downstairs. 

He won’t get the satisfaction, you think, you won't talk to him, just get your things and leave. You hurry to gather the last of your belongings, hoping you can just leave, when you hear his work boots on the stairs.

You’re fighting with the zip on the bag when the door creaks behind you, “Hey, I was calling you.” 

“I heard.” You reply. 

“What are you doing?” He asks. 

You groan in frustration when the zip catches and refuses to move, “What does it look like, Joel?” You hiss, “I’m packing my stuff so I can be outta your hair like you want.” 

“I don’t want that.” Is all he says. 

“Well you’re doing a fucking good impression of it,” You turn to him, “You don’t call me, you don’t message me, you call me a silly little girl, but you want to keep me around?!” 

“Sugar, listen to me,” He’s walking forward, gripping your arms in his hands, “I was angry, and I handled it badly, I’m just-” He falters, “I’m not used to any of this, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you, I didn’t mean what I said.” 

You look at him and you don’t think you’ve ever seen his eyes plead with you like they are now. It breaks your heart a little. 

“But you called me a silly little girl Joel,” You whimper, trying hard not to cry, “Everything you said to me hurt.” 

“I know sugar, I know.” He breaths, pulling you into his chest, “I thought if I gave you some time, we’d be able to talk, but I don’t want you to leave,” His lips brush the top of your head in a kiss, “Never want you to leave.” 

You tilt your head and press a kiss to his jawline; it had always felt like home when you were wrapped in his arms. 

“Let me make it up t’ya, sugar.” His hands are roaming down your spine and you can’t resist him anymore. 

You soften into his body, and he takes it as a yes, he tilts your chin up with one of his hands and presses a kiss to your lips. It’s soft and you let out a sigh as you wrap your arms around his neck to mold yourself closer to him. His hands are gripping at the meat of your ass as he’s walking you back towards the bed. Before he lets you fall, he grabs the forgotten bag of your belongings and tosses it to the floor, settling you to sit on the edge of the bed whilst he drops to his knees. 

His hands are pushing the skirt of your dress up to gather at your hips, his mouth leaving trails of hot kisses up one thigh and down the other. Your head drops back, and you let out a sigh when his big hands come to rest on your hips, “Can I take them off, sugar?” He asks, fingers hooking into the waistband of your panties. 

You look down at him and smirk, “If you want to make it up to me, I’d say it’s pretty essential.” 

He copies your smirk, “Lift up then.” 

You push down on your hands to lift your ass off the bed just enough for him to pull the lace off your skin and down your legs. You set yourself back down on the sheets but opt to stay in your sitting position, shifting your backside as close to the edge as you can without risking falling off, widening your open legs for Joel to see you. 

“God, you have the prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen, sugar.” He groans, leaning down to press kisses over your mound, but never once dipping low enough to give you relief. 

He knows what you want, your hips are chasing his mouth as they move around to press kisses to everywhere but your pussy. You grumble in frustration when he moves away from you, “You want my mouth on your pussy, sugar?” He asked, looking up at you like the cat that got the cream. 

“I’d have thought that was pretty obvious by now.” 

“I gotta hear you say it, sugar.” 

“Joel-” You moan, reaching out to grab a fistful of his hair, “Please put your mouth on me.”

He responds with a grin from between your legs before he licks one long stripe up the seam of your pussy, tongue dipping ever so slightly through your folds to tease your clit before he’s pulling away, “See what happens when you ask nicely?” 

You’re about to respond with something smart when he uses his fingers to spread your lips to reveal your clit, and then he’s running soft circles on it with the tip of his tongue. A guttural moan drops from your lips and your hips are bucking into his face as he continues his teasing touches with his tongue. His hands are gripping the meat of your thighs and God you want more. 

“Joel-” You moan, gripping his hair again, “Fuck, God alive I need more.” 

He pulls away from your pussy just enough to say, “What do you need, sugar?” Before he’s back to work. 

“Fu-fuck, Joel,” You’re grinding your hips into his mouth, “Fingers, please, I need your fingers.” 

You swear you can feel him smile against you, but one of his hands moves from your thighs and you feel him slip one inside of you. You’re so wet that it’s easy for him, he pulls out and when he’s pushing his fingers back into you, there’s a second, “Oh my god yes just like that.” Is all you can managed to get out. 

He’s being more forceful with his tongue now, switching between the soft teases from the tip of his tongue to full licks with the flat of it and it’s got you on the edge already. When you look down at him it’s like heaven. You can see his tongue teasing your clit and the movement of his shoulder as he pumps his fingers into you. It’s a depraved sight but one that you never want to forget. 

“Can feel you gettin’ tight around my fingers sugar,” He mumbles into your pussy, “You gonna come for me like a good girl?” 

“Yes!” You’re crying out as his fingers curl inside you into just the right spot to have spots clouding your vision, “ohmygod Joel, I’m so fucking close.” 

He knows exactly what to do from here. He’s learnt how to play your body like a fucking fiddle, and he knows it. He’s pressing his fingers so deep into your pussy, curling them to hit that sweet spot inside of you. Then he wraps his lips over your clit and sucks whilst his tongue is still flicking tight little circles over you, and you’re gone. 

Your head is thrown back and you’re screaming his name. Your pussy is clenching around his fingers and your whole body is convulsing as it washes over you. Joel pulls his fingers from you, and you look down to watch him lick your slick off them before he’s dipping his tongue lower and literally drinking from you. Wide stripes from his tongue from your aching entrance as he cleans up what you’ve given him. 

He pressed kisses to the inside of your thigh, and you can feel your slick on the scratch of his beard, “I really am sorry, sugar.” He says and you laugh. 

“Get up here.” You say, pulling at the neck of his t-shirt. 

He obliges, standing up briefly to kick off his work boots, before he’s gathering you up and placing your head against the pillows. He’s kissing you; you can taste yourself on his tongue as it molds into your own. 

He flops down on the bed next to you and you curl into his side, running your hands down his chest to rest on the bulge of his jeans before a yawn falls from your mouth, “Tired, sugar?” 

You nod, burying your face into his chest, “Not been sleeping.” Is all you offer in explanation. 

He presses a kiss to your temple, “Take a nap.” Is what he says, taking hold of your hand on his groin, wrapping your fingers together to rest on his stomach, “I can wait.” 

“Promise me you’ll still be here when I wake up?” You ask, looking up to meet his eyes. 

“I got nowhere else on earth I’d rather be, sugar.” 

[annakie]

Let's Spend Lots of Money!

Back in June I posted about how after a huge storm rolled through, I was without power for over five days and then talked about all the insurance and stuff going on.

Well, things have progressed since then!

Would you like to read/see pictures of exterior home renovation? This is the post for you! Warning: It's really long! And the story isn't done yet!

Here's a cut for extreme length!

PART ONE: The To-Do List

When it was over, at the end of my post, I posted some To-Do's:

Call Plumber - Done, and I thought the problem would be solved for another year or more.

Get garage door serviced. Done. The guy I called was clearly trying to rip me off. He told me immediately that I needed new springs, and when I pushed back and pointed out how shiny and new my garage springs were, because they were less than five years old, and they just needed to be tightened, he tried telling me that it's not possible to tighten garage door springs, something I knew for a fact was bullshit. I pushed back on him and was about to tell him to just leave when instead he had me sign a thing saying that he couldn't promise that fixing the springs would fix the problem and if I called them out again it would be another service call fix instead of guaranteed work. In the end, I got what I wanted but paid too much and marked that company in my phone as "never call again." The work they did do was fine, but screw them.

Get Handyman to take care of the fallen tree - Check, a day or two after power came back. I tipped him extra for it, too, because he always takes care of me. My insurance lady told me what I paid was quite inexpensive for the job.

Work with Insurance - Yep! We'll get to that.

Talk to my neighbors about the fact that I’m going to get a wood fence put up to replace our chain link one. YEP. We'll get to that, too.

Get the electrician back to wire up the house for a generator. Nope. Not yet. But someday.

Buy a generator Not yet, but again, someday.

Clean out the garage, for real. Maybe when it's not 100 degrees out every day again. But yeah, on the list, for multiple reasons.

So yeah... the last six weeks or so have been a trip.

PART TWO: Getting Money

One of the things I did when I didn't have power was see that we could file a claim with FEMA for disaster assistance. I figured... why not. A day or two after I got power back, a FEMA inspector lady called and then came to the house. I pointed out all of the things. I ended up getting a little bit from FEMA. Not a ton, but honestly, I was grateful. Anything helped.

Later that week, or maybe the next, my insurance sent an adjuster. Crazily she was flown down from another part of the country, she was living in the exact town that I grew up in. Like it is not a huge town. Not "small" but also just not somewhere you'd expect to meet someone from on the reg. So we had a good time chatting about the city when she came to inspect the house.

Insurance gave me an OK amount. My roof was old so they only paid out 40% of the replacement cost. And yeah, that's about what I got from them them with the final price when it was all said and done.

PART THREE: Finding Help

My roofer initially seemed great. I was excited to work with him. When the insurance came, instead of him coming, he sent an "assistant" who didn't really seem like he knew much of what he was doing or was very helpful. But hey, you know what? right after a storm like that, they're gonna be busy.

Several times over the next couple of weeks I texted him asking how things were progressing on just getting me a quote. He sent a whole other guy over like two weeks later for the fence quote. He barely seemed interested to be there. Um, okay. He also wouldn't even give me a ballpark at the time. Whatever.

Two weeks after that I hear from the roofer that he's almost done with my quote. By then it was the weekend before July 4th.

I'd gotten the money from the insurance. I'd sent the documentation of their payout to the roofer and made it clear I had a sum of cash above that (not exactly how much) to come out of pocket, and a priority list for the work to be done. My best guess is that he figured my business wasn't worth as much time as other people's, so I kept getting shuffled to the bottom of the stack. OK. His prerogative. Fair. But I was at the limit of my waiting, considering how bad my roof was.

My across the street neighbor had told me that she had her roof redone a year or two ago who she said did a good job, and he'd come to see how her roof fared from the storm and told her to give me his number if I wanted him to look at it. So when I didn't hear from my roofer after July 4th week, I went and asked her for the number, then texted Joel, the new roofer.

Anyway, Joel came out the next day. I showed him all the work I'd been approved for. He and I negotiated a price and materials for the roof. A price was set that was right about what I thought it should be.

Still had some money leftover in the budget so I asked about a fence, specifically an 8' Cedar fence. His quote was $1k more than I was hoping it would be, but honestly, still what I thought was a good deal.

He also mentioned a price for the patio roof. I was at my hoped-for spend limit and would get back to him about the patio roof.

In the end, I pulled a little more money together and told him to go for it.

That was Tuesday and Wednesday.

Original Builder sent me my quotes on Wednesday. How nice. Too late. Also they were like 30% higher than what I settled on with Joel. He just emailed them, didn't even bother to follow up with a text.

I had a polite response planned out in my head if he'd texted or called. But he didn't. Oops, I guess I didn't see that email.

PART FOUR: The Survey Drama

Thursday, Joel and his main builder came out, tore out the chain link fence and started putting up 10' poles for the 8' fence (2' of which is buried in concrete in the ground.)

Joel also told me that he needed a copy of my land survey for the build permit, which I should have from when I bought the house.

I spent a good hour searching through every document I had from when I bought my house in 2003 looking for it. And I felt I'd pretty much kept everything. I had my bids on houses I didn't win in there. I had notes that I took back then.

I did not have a survey. Well... shit.

So, I started by looking at the city website online. The city does not keep copies of surveys.

So I tried calling my mortgage company. Except oops they went out of business in like 2010.

Getting real panicked, I threw a hail mary and went to look up my Title company. They'd been bought out in like, 2007. But there were a couple of people working under franchise names of that company still. A total longshot, but I called the person nearest me.

That very nice man said he couldn't help me BUT I should call the home office. He gave me the name and number of a lady named Kim.

So I called Kim, and she was very very sweet. And extremely doubtful she had anything on file, but she would get with the records department and look.

A half hour later she called back. THEY'D FOUND IT. Holy crap. Even she was astonished.

I thanked her profusely and asked her to thank the records department. A few minutes later, the survey was in my email. And hey, it had my signature from 2003 on it! I sent that over to Joel and we got the permit. WHEW. Work continued.

I printed out three copies of the survey and emailed it to myself at two other email addresses.

PART FIVE: Communication

I texted my neighbor on the side where the fence would be built (the other neighbor had built their fence, also an 8' cedar fence, like 20 years ago, so hey, at least I only had to pay for two full sides and two fronts.

Technically I text with their daughter, as her parents don't speak English. They knew that this was coming and were cool with it. They knew the fencer would need to do some work in their yard and that there would be no fence for a little while. I asked Joel to please help minimize the time there was no fence for their dog (a pitbull, she's very sweet) to be penned in by.

Just want to say my neighbors are saints. They were very cool with everything, though I sent them many apologies. It was especially frustrating because we took the fence separating our yards down on Friday and there was no full fence put back up all weekend. It couldn't be avoided, though. Just wish the days had gone by faster. They could only let the dog our on the leash for those days. I asked (daughter) several times what I could do to say I'm sorry and thank you and they were really just kind and chill about it anyway. I am still thinking of something I could do for them, though, once this is all over. My initial thought is a small basket of dog toys and treats for the pupper.

I also started discussing paint stain colors for the fence with Joel, and let my neighbors help me make a decision, since they'd have to look at it, too. In the end, we decided to go with the same brown color that the fence on my other side already was. I kinda wanted to go with maybe a dark grey, which would also match the neighbors house well, but that's what they wanted and having a color match was my other main choice, and probably the right one, even if it doesn't match with our houses.

Mostly I'm glad my good relationship with my neighbors is intact.

PART SIX: CONSTRUCTION BEGINS!

Okay yeah so Thursday some poles got put up. Friday the rest of them got put up. Joel is mostly coordinating everything, the main builders are Jose and his wife Maria. Neither of them speak English and my High School and College Spanish were uh, 30 years ago but I retained a decent amount. Mostly though, we communicate through whatever sentences I can piece together and a lot of Google Translate. We have had entire conversations through Google Translate. It's great.

Saturday the work on the poles were finished and Sunday no work got done... I mean... it's Sunday. It was only annoying because of my neighbors having to take care of the dog and I felt bad about it.

Over the weekend I also picked out roof shingles. I got an architectural single, which is a nicer shingle. I wanted a medium-grey color -- I never liked the light grey my old roof was, I didn't pick it out, though I know lighter is probably cooler. I picked what I thought was a nice compromise.

PART SEVEN: Roof Day One

AKA my new Skylight.

Monday I woke up stupid early for no reason. But it was fine that I did because at 6:30am the doorbell rang. The roofers were here. And they got started right away.

It... was loud. I knew it would be but I don't think I was quite prepared for how loud.

But I had little to do after welcoming them, so I mean, when it was time for me to work (my job is 100% WFH still, yay!) I just got to work, doing my best to ignore the noise and hoping they wouldn't fall in on me. The cats were terrified and hiding, curled up together under my recliner in the living room, their normal safe place. I put food, water and their litter box in there, closed the door 90% of the way, and let them be.

Anyway, here I was, working away in my office and at about 10:15 am, there was a bright light and a foot in my ceiling.

First and most importantly, he is fine! He slipped and his leg fell through. It wasn't the end of the world, and MOST important, he CRAZILY fell through right above my very tall bookcase, the tallest piece of furniture I own. Instead of falling completely through the ceiling, he "stepped" two feet down, and his foot caught on the bookcase, and he pulled it right back up. If this had happened ANYWHERE else, it might have been a LOT worse.

Joel and Jose came in and assessed the situation and Jose said no problem. For about three hours the hole remained, until Joel came back from Home Depot with some drywall, and I had a funny story to tell all my friends, co-workers and family. That angle in that pic up there is literally an angle from where I sit while I work all day. Lots of fun comments about my new skylight and terrible puns from my brother.

It currently looks like this:

You can see the scuffs on the wall from the guy who fell's shoe!

Jose came in and got the drywall on and the spackle in. There was a crack already from the window to the ceiling, from the house settling, so he just went ahead and spackled that, too.

I actually have the paint can for that paint in my garage, so I handed that over to them to paint match.

Honestly, aside from being glad the worker is OK, I do not get upset over stuff like this as long as it gets fixed, and it well, so it's fine!

There's a similar hole in my garage ceiling, too, which still needs fixing.

The roof workers worked from 6:30am until 9pm. It was 100 outside that day. They were amazing.

This was taken Mid-day when they were eating lunch.

I not only was getting new shingles, but new decking (aka the wood that the shingles rest on that is connected to the rafters. I know they didn't redo the decking in 2003 when I bought the house and they put the cheapest roof possible on it before selling it to me. Joel confirmed that there were several rotting places in the decking and I saw a few pieces myself. And under in the attic the decking they installed a Thermal layer for more insulation that wasn't there before.

I did have good insulation installed pretty early, like 2005, so at least when the power has gone out since it's stayed nicely warm/cool depending on the season.

I had some old whirly type vents coming out of the house. Several of them were either broken or uh... very squeaky. Especially when it was cold, one of them had a definite squeak that you could hear outside and it was mortifying if my neighbors could hear it. That one, or maybe another one, rattled really badly when it was windy, too. TBH I would just put in my headphones to sleep sometimes because of roof noise the last year or two during very cold or windy nights.

Well, the roofers got rid of all of those. In place, they put a ridge vent, which basically means a tiny gap along the entire top ridge of the house, covered up by a special shingle. I learned all about it when I watched a Youtube about it the next morning after looking at it and going "WTF is that little bump?" Anyway, no more loud squeaky/rattling vents for me. My house is modern now. :D

So anyway, Monday night they finished getting roofing over the entire house, but the garage still wasn't done.

This was taken early Tuesday morning, there'd been tarps over the garage that night. There was no rain forecast, so everything was cool.

PART SEVEN POINT FIVE: No Internets (Part 1)

This is part 7.5 because I had to come back and add it in later when I forgot to add it until I was almost done writing, and I don't feel like correcting all the section titles, but it is absolutely part of the story.

Monday early evening as they were hurrying to finish getting roofing over at least the house part of the roof they got some of the garage done. Around 7pm there was a blip where my internet went out, but it came back.

And then at like 8:15 as they were finishing, it went out and DIDN'T come back.

I did all the normal troubleshooting things, put in a ticket with my provider, and called tech support.

Eventually I got someone on the line who asked me to make sure everything was plugged in, what, like I'm some kind of idiot? I work in IT! I know what I'm doing! But, I humored her. And she reminded me that there's not only the box on the outside of my house, but also the one in the garage, could I please check to make sure that was plugged in?

OK Sure. Constructions been going on, I'll humor her.

So anyway, I had forgotten the the box in the garage was plugged into an outlet in the ceiling that had been put there for my garage door. It had come completely out in all the banging from the roofers.

OK no problem, right? I'll just plug it back in, and voila! Internet!

Um except the plug is right above my car, like dead center.

OK sure, just gotta move my car!!!

...except there was a dumpster in my driveway, riiiight behind my car. I couldn't move my car more than a foot if I tried.

I spent like 10 minutes trying to reach it with my stepladder (nope not even close) or maneuver it back in with a broom handle (lol noooo chance) and gave up.

I took this pic just now for illustrative purposes. The plug is now plugged back in. But yeah, I had to cancel my Monday night PF2e game from last of Internets.

In the morning, I overslept, and they rang the doorbell to let me know they were there. I saw Joel and waved to him, and one minute later I went back outside to tell him about the internet problem. He was gone. I texted him, didn't hear back. It was getting close to work time, so I called him and he'd left as soon as he saw I was home and ready for the workers to work. I didn't realize he was so far away already, but he still turned around, came back in, and figured out a way to plug the plug back in without standing on my car. I was a half hour or so late to logging into work but it all worked out. Just a little bump in the road. I felt bad that he had come come back from wherever he went, too. I swear I looked for him a MINUTE after I saw him that morning!

Part EIGHT: Fencing!

While the roofers roofed, Jose and Maria were busy with the fence. And by the end of the day Monday, they had most of the neighboring fence with the dog put up.

In the picture in part 7 above, on the left is the fence that's been there 20 years. You can see that those neighbors put the "ugly" part of the fence with the poles and boards on my side.

Honestly I've been mad about it for the 20 or so years it's been up. Not like super mad, I never talked to them about it, but I just thought it was really shitty of them to do that. I've always tried hard to be as kind and thoughtful to my neighbors as I could be and wouldn't have dreamed of doing that if I had put the fence up first.

In the alley and the other side of their house, the pretty side is the outside and the ugly side is inside. But on THAT ONE SIDE, they gave me the ugly side. Never talked to me about it, never consulted me about the fence, it just went up one day and I was left to deal with it.

I've always even since been kind about granting them access to fix their fence and am on good terms with the wife of the couple of who lives there. And when my house was broken into in 2011 the husband heard it happen and called the police and gave a statement, which I thought was very good of them, the police were able to get my house sealed back up somewhat so when I came home a few hours later the damage as minimized.

So yeah, I'm not sure why I got the ugly side of the fence from them. Also like, it seems way easier to climb that side of the fence so all they did was make their own yard less secure? I didn't want that! A big part of wanting an 8' fence was more security!

Anyway, it was important to me to not make my other neighbors look at the ugly side of the fence. Also, I just figured why not have it look the same all the way around? And again, the security issue.

But also... like two or three years ago the neighbors on that side put up sheds on their property... and backed them right up to the property line. Again, no discussion with me, they just did it, and by the time I saw it, happened it was too late to change anything.

I wasn't super happy with it because of this scenario right here.

Sunday Joel and I had a long conversation about what to do about it, and I was still committed to wanting the ugly side on the inside. But they literally couldn't hammer back there to get the fence up behind the sheds.

In the end, we went with an, admittedly weird, compromise.

Note that that side of the fence goes that far back so that both of the windows on that side of the house are inside the fence. Again, security.

So yeah, the fence swaps facing mid-way for just the part where their sheds are. I still have mixed feelings about it but honestly, it's fine. I wish it could look completely the same all the way around, but, it works OK this way. Maybe I should have made the neighbors look at the ugly side the entire way, but the security issue was important in my mind... even though tbh anyone who really wanted to could just climb up on my neighbors sheds and hop over. It's a little weird and I guess technically I gave up a few inches of unusable property there, but it's a compromise I can live with any whoever buys the house after me can live with it, too.

Honestly at this point, can't wait for them to finish the fence all-around because I feel like I can barely sleep knowing all this expensive STUFF is just laying around my wide-open yard.

It's also real dumb because my 4' chain link fence kept no one past five years old out of my yard, it wasn't even padlocked, and yet I feel less secure with no fence.

This is what the back of the fence looks like right now (Thursday morning) and has since... I think Monday or maybe Tuesday. Joel's had problems sourcing more of the right boards. The gap on the left is, of course, where the back gate will be. I do feel better having it like, two-thirds done at least. there's also no gate on the front yard yet, either, which will just be flush with the end of the fence there.

PART NINE: The Patio Begins!

The roofers were done with their parts Wednesday afternoon. And I love the roof so much, but I'm going to hold off on posting pictures of that quite yet!

The patio roof before, if I had to guess, was built in the 1980s. The roof itself was just a big piece of corrugated metal, held up by some OK-built wood beams and ironwork pillars in the front. It was fine, it was functional. You can see in this pic from last month pretty well the construction and also how it was getting holes in it.

The wood was also really starting to rot. There were a couple of places where it barely still connected because of wood rot. I'd guess within 5 years it would have been falling down. It was definitely time for a new one, and the price Joel gave me I thought was really fair for a patio roof of the same quality.

Well, I was wrong about the quality.

When Jose ran out of wood for the fence, he and Maria got started on the patio. First, they demo'd it.

Oh hey, also first look at the new roof color.

That's how my patio looked all Tuesday night to Wednesday morning. You can clearly see in that second picture some of the wood rot. Here's some more of it.

That piece on the upper left I'm pretty sure was the part right over my patio door that I had to look at basically like, all the time. It was disintegrating.

So yeah, I was so glad to see that go.

A couple of years ago, when the big tree near my house was still there, it hadn't gotten trimmed recently and there was an ice storm. The tree branches swung low and the icy branch ends were smacking against that metal roof in the wind. It was loud and spooky. I had to go sleep in the living room that night from the sound. I really didn't like that metal roof.

I'm never going to have that problem again, since no tree there (for now...) but also the construction of the new patio roof is very different.

We'll get back to that.

PART TEN: Crazy Wednesday

Wednesday morning began with me realizing that all the banging and knocked one of the lights off of my bathroom ceiling. No problem, Let Joel know, it'll get fixed.

Jose and Maria finished up the demo of the patio roof (chunks of it are still in my yard).

I honestly had no idea what they were planning to do to replace it. Joel just told me to trust him, it's going to be great. OK!

The next thing I knew they're cutting into my house. WTF? Trust me, Joel said, it's gonna be great. OK!

Tuesday the sewer had started backing up again. God damnit, it JUST HAD backed up and I had it cleaned a month and a half ago when I got power back. So I called the plumbers, they were scheduled to come out that afternoon.

Just another thing I didn't need, but whatevs. I had a very productive morning for once this week while working, at least.

In the early afternoon, they had started to demolish more of the patio than I expected. They cut through some of the eaves, and took some of the facing off of the house where I wasn't expecting.

The plumber also arrived and was doing his thing. He then told me that my entire sewer was fine, I didn't have a stoppage. He took me out in the alley, though, and showed me that there WAS a stoppage outside the property line in the alley, and told me to put in a ticket with the city.

Kinda hate that it cost me $350 to find that out, but mostly it was a bit of a relief that it wasn't actually my problem.

I went back inside, put in a ticket with the water department, and got back to work.

Then, weirdly, my internet went down again a half hour or so later.

I checked all of the connections, then got a sinking feeling. I went outside and saw more stuff cut down and in that stuff was... a wire. I looked inside that wire and yeah... that's an internet cable.

That's a terrible picture but you can see some of the facing it came out of, lol.

Literally as I was taking that picture, a guy from the water department walked up to me and told me that there was indeed a stoppage in the alley. Because some kid had unplugged the cleanout line behind my house and dropped a baseball down there. The baseball was probably stopping up the entire block.

They couldn't get it out, so they were putting in an emergency ticket to dig up the line, and pull it out. I wouldn't have sewer for a day or so.

I think the "How SCREWED AM I with all of this going on!?" look on my face (though I was very polite and not upset with him obviously) paired with the state of my yard and the work being done gave me some sympathy -- he assured me I didn't have to pay for it, and he'd let me know when things would stop.

Ooooohkay.

It also started to drizzle a little at that point, but it never actually rained and work didn't have to stop, thankfully! Instead, Jose and Maria had a lovely overcast day in the 80's to work in. I had been worried about them the last couple of days and had supplied them with a big box of water (From a water delivery service) and big cups of ice to make sure they were well hydrated.

I went back in my house, laid down on the couch, and tried putting in a ticket with my internet company. The chatbot wouldn't let me do it, so I called and sat on hold for 45 minutes just staring at the wall. This was A Lot.

I also let my boss and Eric, my friend/co-worker who lives nearby know. Eric was up at the office today, but told me he was about to come back home and would bring me a hotspot, so I'd have SOME internet.

While I was laying on the couch, the doorbell rang. It was the water guy, and with a big smile on his face he told me that his coworker was able to use some tool to get the baseball out! There'd be no sewer work needed and things were flowing freely.

Fiiiinally, a break.

Eventually got to talk to a real person on the phone with the internet company, and not long after Eric arrived with the hotspot. I showed him around the mess a bit. After over an hour "break", I got back to work.

And as of Thursday morning, I'm still on the hotspot. But this one is pretty fast, and it has a network jack, so I even got to run my Wednesday night D&D game off my PC last night. What a relief.

Internet company should be here this afternoon to fix stuff. I'm probably going to have to pay for that, though.

The other great news is that somehow i didn't even notice that the gutter contractor had been here, done his job and left!! I don't even know when he was there/did his job, and my office is the front of the house! Maybe he did it when I was laying on the couch in the living room!? It was FAST, though. Joel just called to tell me to go outside to look, and WOW. He'd said they might do black gutters. I was unconvinced but trusted him.

He was so very, very right.

Anyway, finally, here's a pic of the front of the house, with the new roof and black gutters.

Holy crap, what a difference. My house almost looks fancy now. Almost. The shingles are so gorgeous.

You can see that ridge vent pretty well there. And that's with the old white gutters obviously. The black gutters give the house a really striking and defining line that really pops.

Here's a quick comparison with the old roof and gutters:

A truly amazing difference. And yeah I need to paint the garage door. Going to actually get to that now.

PART ELEVEN: The Patio Continued.

SO! They got so much done, and although there's a lot to do, I am already so well pleased.

The reason they were cutting into it so much was because they'd determined that the best course of action was to have hte patio become a part of the roof, and it would be built on a similar slant instead of just a flat piece of metal. Instead, it would just be a full roof anyway.

The posts are huge, thick wooden posts, which Joel tells me will be covered when they're done.

The roof is literally... the thermal barrier, decking and will be the same siding as the roof I already have.

This is what it looks like as of last night...

They did accidentally also break the light cover over my porch light so that'll need to be replaced, but it's small potatoes.

I still don't have a full picture of what it's going to look like, and I'm so excited for it. It's going to look so nice. I've loved the work Joel and Jose/Maria have done so far and honestly trust them completely with whatever now. The quality is fantastic and despite the little hiccups, things are actually, honestly going well.

I'm going to post this now and report back in a couple of days when it's done! I'd planned on holding off until it was ALL done, But this is post is already long enough!

This has been one of the biggest money commits I've ever done, after buying my home and buying cars, but honestly, totally worth it.

Gonna suck if I end up selling the house to gtfo of Texas in the next couple of years, but at least it'll sell for more if it looks this good!

[lucy4242564]

.cowboy like me.

Chapter 4.

I think he knows.

~I want you, bless my soul And I ain’t gotta tell him, I think he knows.

“I got somethin’a show ya. ‘M off round’ 4, 6 work fer you?”

“6 is perfect.”

The air was thick with indecision. Just two pairs of eyes, scanning one another’s body. Not with lust, but with curiosity. Trying to figure out their next move.

Lilah’s attention caught on Daryl’s pocket.

“Give me your phone, you can just call me when you’re almost here.” She said, sticking her hand out.

After that, they returned to their destination and the night carried on, no trace of previous endeavors except the uncomfortable wetness underneath her shorts.

 

She had of course went on a tangent to Brittany about everything on the way back home though. Without hesitation and in true to Brittany fashion, she had begun planning their next several meet ups. She was determined to take that inch and stretch it to a mile.

 

How else would Lilah have ended up on an itchy couch in a trailer park a week and a half later, waiting on Daryl and Paul to finish fixing some sort of leak in the wall. She honestly wondered how much this thing cost with all the constant upkeep it was needing. The day prior Paul had stayed at their apartment because of his air conditioning going out. 


“I hate men.” Brittany said, closing the cabinet door.

 

“Empty?” Lilah asked, already knowing the answer.

 

They had decided to make supper at Paul’s tonight. Well, Brittany decided. It was just part of her plan to push Daryl and Lilah closer.

 

She swung her legs off the side of the couch and walked to the kitchen, inspecting their predicament for herself. Neither Brittany or Lilah kept their cabinets stocked, but she was at a loss for how Paul kept himself fed. “If you want to drive to the store and get a thing of pie crust and rotisserie chicken I can do a pot pie.” It was simple and the abundance of vegetable medley cans gave her more questions than answers.

 

“Coolio.” The brunette responded. “Going to tell them real quick, here’s the keys.”

 

Lilah caught them quick and headed out the door.

 

 

 “Y’know, this would be really good with venison instead of chicken.” Paul commented after finishing a plate of food.

 

Lilah scrunched her eyebrows. “What’s that?”

 

“Deer.” A raspier voice answered.

 

Daryl was getting ready to leave and Lilah was a little disappointed at how small their interactions had been. Brittany may have been the one trying to spark something up between them, but Lilah wasn’t necessarily complaining about it.

 

“Never tried it.” She admitted.

 

“Yet.” Paul added.

 

As much as Lilah wanted to argue back that she wasn’t even that big of a meat eater, she was too busy thinking of ways to get the attention of the man heading towards the door.

 

“I’ll see ya in the morning, I’ma head out.” Paul nodded in acknowledgment.

 

“Could you drop me off at the apartment? Brittany’s gonna be here a while and I’m honestly exhausted.” What? 

 

Daryl paused for a moment, considering her words, before muttering for her to come on.

 

She knew, that he knew, what she said was a lie and now she wanted to take back her words. Confrontation was an alley Lilah avoided and she had a feeling he was no stranger to it. After saying her quick goodbyes and sharing a knowing look with Brittany, her feet carried her out the door and into a seat that she wanted to claim as her own.

 

“If yer gonna start spewing bullshit, y’needa do better.”

 

Well that was quick.

 

“It wasn’t bullshit.”

 

“Sure it whatn’t.”

 

“Well if you made it easier for me to talk to you I wouldn’t have to search for stupid excuses!” She confessed.

 

He studied her in short stares while he was driving. The way her face contorted in irritation. “Ain’t gotta do nothin’ for your convenience princess.”

 

Lilah hated how much she liked his accent, almost as much as she hated the feeling of her stomach dropping at his words. She didn’t know why it disappointed her so deeply.

 

“Then next time I find an excuse, why don’t you just tell me no?” She asked, hoping he wouldn’t agree with her.

 

Instead he remained silent and shook his head. He knew it was a mistake getting caught up with a girl like her, but he couldn’t help himself. If she was going to throw herself at him so desperately, why shouldn’t he take full advantage of it.

 

The nagging voice of Merle in the back of his mind told him to nail and bail. Telling him he didn’t need anyone’s approval, much less some girl that was searching for it so badly. Merle had been missing for a few months, probably dealing drugs across state lines Daryl assumed. 


Things could be different.

 

“Nah,” he turned into the apartment complex. “What ya doin’ tomorra’night?”

 

Color her shocked because Lilah all but gaped at him. Before she let her thoughts carry her away she responded.

 

“Nothing.”

 

“I got somethin’a show ya. ‘M off round’ 4, 6 work fer you?”

 

“6 is perfect.”

 

The air was thick with indecision. Just two pairs of eyes, scanning one another’s body. Not with lust, but with curiosity. Trying to figure out their next move.

 

Lilah’s attention caught on Daryl’s pocket. “Give me your phone, you can just call me when you’re almost here.” She said, sticking her hand out.

Chapter 5

[hookechoes]

so far since i've lived here:

-it took six times requesting him to come out and fix my toilet before he stopped pretending it was fine and actually did it, and i had to be here to explain the problem to his face and force him to recognize it, all the while he was trying to explain that well, the toilet was just so old, you have to hold the lever down longer. even though that didnt work. finally the sixth time he came out he discovered a part needed to be replaced.

-i requested he come out and fix my AC in the middle of summer, on a friday; he claims he did, but instead he broke it completely and i was sweltering in the heat for a full weekend before i could request him to come out again on monday.

-i requested he come fix a literal hole in my ceiling; he came out, inspected it, said he would be back to cover it by the end of the week. three weeks later i had to send ANOTHER request because he'd marked the order complete and had forgotten to actually do it.

-my AC unit stopped being able to keep up even though it was only in the low eighties outside so i asked him to inspect it. he did, then blamed both me and the fact that it was soooo hot out and told me to keep the window blinds down. I had to go to the office manager and tell her what was happening for her to force him to fix it.

-requested he come out and check on my dishwasher because it sometimes leaks huge puddles onto the floor in the middle of its cycle. he told me it was fine and maybe i wasn't latching it properly. like i don't know how to latch a dishwasher ive been using for two years.

-this fucking fridge bullshit

[lansplaining]

[one snippet of a chengqing holiday romcom for as many days of december and maybe january as i feel like!] [previous part] 

Jin Ling peppered Wen Qing with questions, and Jiang Cheng got so wrapped up in listening to the two of them go back and forth-- Wen Qing was good with kids, it turned out, in a matter-of-fact kind of way-- he missed the turn for the parking lot near the mall where some guy sold Christmas trees every year. He signaled to turn back... then decided to keep going. 

“All good?” Wen Qing asked, noticing this, because of course she did.

“Yeah,” Jiang Cheng said. “Just... trying to decide the best route. There’s, uh, this Christmas tree farm a little way out of town. In the autumn they do pumpkins and stuff... that kind of place. They’ve got stands with hot chocolate and all that, so get ready for a lot of begging...” 

“Sounds good,” Wen Qing said. 

“Great,” said Jiang Cheng, and almost didn’t feel guilty for the lie. 

Given it was late morning on a weekday, even the week before Christmas, the parking lot at the farm was barely half full, and they basically had the run of the place, though the tree pickings were getting slim this close to Christmas. Not that Jin Ling cared: he scampered from tree to tree, squatting down in front of them to perform an inspection for some mysterious personal criteria that Jiang Cheng couldn’t begin to understand. 

“So,” Wen Qing said as they walked behind him at a more sedate pace. “Tell me your sad story, I’ll tell you mine.”

“Ha.” Jiang Cheng shook his head. His world was so small these days, everybody already knew everything about him. It was odd to have to say it all out loud. “It’s... he’s my sister’s kid. She and her husband died in an accident not long after the school burned down. It was-- a rough year.” 

“To say the least,” Wen Qing said dryly. But she didn’t add any of the things Jiang Cheng hated to hear about how he’d done a great job, or he must be so strong, or asking what it was like to suddenly have a little kid. She just-- took it in. "So the other uncle’s dad’s side, or--?”

“Yeah,” Jiang Cheng said. “The grandparents like to see him every few weekends, but he’s mostly with me.” 

He almost mentions that there is, in fact, another brother, another uncle-- or there should have been. But he’s said more than enough without bringing Wei Wuxian into the whole mess. 

“Your turn.”

“Ugh, yes, I did promise, didn’t I.” She brushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “My parents passed away when my little brother and I were kids. He’s got some chronic health issues, so-- I realized I couldn’t just pack up and do my residency where the hell ever, I couldn’t just drag him around or leave him behind. So now we both work for our uncle.” 

Jiang Cheng can just imagine the kinds of responses she usually gets to that story: you’re so generous, you’ve gave up so much for him, I hope he’s grateful. The same annoying bullshit he always heard, that seemed to suggest he didn’t understand exactly what he’d chosen, like he needed to be praised for doing the only thing he could possibly do. 

“Is that who you were on the phone with?” 

“Yeah,” she said. “He’s very sweet, he was offering to come down to be with me here over Christmas, but... we’ve got our popo and some other people back home, he’ll be in much better company there. I don’t really care about being festive.” 

“Well you’re welcome over at ours,” Jiang Cheng blurted out before he could stop himself. “We don’t, uh, we don’t do much either. But everything’s closed on Christmas, you know, so... if you want to be guaranteed a meal that’s not from, I dunno, Starbucks. You’re invited.”

Wen Qing’s eyes widened slightly, and a series of difficult-to-read expressions crossed her face. Jiang Cheng was about to open his mouth to walk it all back in a panic when she said, “That’s... really nice of you. That definitely sounds more pleasant than a hotel.” She smiled. She had a surprisingly sweet smile, Jiang Cheng noticed. It was an unexpected contrast to the sharp intelligence in her eyes. “It’s fun being around little kids at Christmas. I was going to be sorry to miss that.”  

Well, Jiang Cheng thought. Fuck. 

“JIUJIU!” Jin Ling screamed. Jiang Cheng was impossibly grateful for the excuse to look away from the sweet curve of Wen Qing’s bright red lipstick. Jin Ling was pointing frantically to a sign for the hot chocolate stand. Not that he could read, but someone had helpfully illustrated it with a drawing of a giant mug of cocoa with huge marshmallows floating in it. 

“Go on, jiujiu,” Wen Qing said, still smiling. “I believe it’s time for the begging, as advertised.” 

Fuck. 

[gwydionmisha]

Personal: Scam or No Scam, Cats, Gothmas Phase 1 Begins

Wednesday I was dragged out of a particularly interesting supernatural adventure dream by a different person calling to tray to get me to move out of my apartment. It was 10AM, less than two hours into what was already a short sleep cycle. I started my Do Not Call List banishing chant and he hung up. (Saturday's asshole was a woman.

In my exhaustion I could not remember the block number code before a person who could have either been a Medicare person or a medicare scammer called me. I had to engage them in a long dialog to tell which, which was unusual. Scammers are usually faster and more transparent. This one had enough information about who she was calling to keep me on the line, because medicare makes a ton of annoying and intrusive early sleep cycle calls including one last week trying to talk me into a home inspection I don't need or want. I can't afford to accidentally block Medicare, so I needed to trick her into disambiguating. she sounded a lot like last week's lady. Very similar voice, identical regional accent, but her background sound was slightly off. Her reason for calling was plausible. I did my usual thing where I make them tell me my own details, which she could do, but so did the try to make me move person that had just called, so I'm guessing an online registry or bought data base. No social security number or other id number though.

Then she tried to talk me into going to get my medicare card out so she could "verify my information was correct." Me, internally: Aha! Got her! So I pressed her on why she needed me to do that when she could just read me what's in her computer and I could say if it was correct or not. She tried the hard sell. I hung up. Very tricksey, she was. Sometimes real medicare wants proof I'm me, but I can also get them to mail me things or call them back on an official line I verify myself.

I am annoying as fuck to the endless people from assorted departments and subcontractors and what have you, because I don't trust shit. I know the scripts for the annoying flock of intrusive mandatory wake me up phone calls Medicare does. Every time a new department or service contacts me they get the third degree because I get so many identity theft attempt phone calls. I once hung up on the same new bullshit hassle call thing multiple times a week for approximately three months, because instead of properly identifying themselves as medicare and explaining immediately what they wanted, they started a long byzantine thing that sounded like half sales pitch and half identity theft fishing and after the first time I wasted five minutes of sleep trying to play scam or no scam and getting no straight answers as to what they actually wanted, I would recognize the opening sentences and hang right up. I didn't block them because they were ambiguous. I figured if it were actually important they'd contact me and tell me what they wanted instead of wasting my time. Eventually, I got a frantic sounding lady was like "This is medicare. Please don't hang up, it's important." And then she actually told me why she was calling specifically and demonstrated and actual knowledge of who she was calling. It was real. I've no idea why they were trying to sound like scammers when the thing was something straightforward we were able to clear up in less time than their opener took before I gave up on it the first time they called.

If this thing Wednesday morning was real, bet I'll get a letter. Betting it's not though. I am 95% sure it was a scammer who was doing a well above average job at mimicking medicare.

…And then I got a couple more calls spaced to prevent REM sleep for medical things. Sigh. So I started out tired. People still have not remembered how to drive with other cars on the roads particularly at dusk and i nearly saw a car T-Boned when I stopped at the bank drivethru ATM, but the car stopped inches from the driver side door. There were lines everywhere. There were cars and people everywhere. It was so loud and crowded at the grocery that every baby and toddler under the age of four that we saw started screaming because it was so overwhelming and we didn't blame them.

We ended up skipping two stops and going back to my place the fast way. Poor New Millennial was waiting in the dark as i haven't gotten them a key yet and spaced turning on the Millennial Signal lights before I went out. Goth Millennial had alerted them we were coming but running late and had pizza making stuff for dinner. We all worked together to square things away and while we were waiting for thing to cook, we were sitting quietly in the living room chatting.

There was a moth that had gotten in! Imagine the excitement amounst the feline population of the apartment. The Imperial couple were so excited that they hunted it together in the living room. This is a thing that does not happen. Tavy loves catching bugs, but his balance issues mean he basically has to corner something against the screen where it is damaged or confused enough not to fly away. Livia is, of course, a first rate hunter of any and all live prey that foolishly enters her domain, so even though New Millennial was right there on the sofa, she went right past. She managed to damage the wing, which meant Tavy had a chance! He could hunt too! He ended up having the best time hunting it. Meanwhile, Livia spotted a Live Thing on the Porch, so she got really into menacing whatever it was, then they both sat on the widow bench to watch outside things and wonder what that noise was, which is a thing he does when visitors are here, but she doesn't normally do because she has to turn her back on the Visitors. So Brave!

Goth Millennials got great pictures which I will post when I have them.

After dinner, Goth Millennial did crafter surgery on poor Geoff Peterson Jr. who is starting to come apart. He's a fifteen year old cheap plastic skeleton and these things happen. They redressed him and were taking him outside when his bottom half came off. I was like, we should try displaying him like that as a Beetlejuice tribute, so we are experimenting with that.

Meanwhile, New Millennial put the plastic cloth we are trying this year on the widow bench and secured the Halloween trees against cat panic. Prezzies started arriving this week, so they displayed them there as is the custom. None of the other decorations were up, but this was a lot for us given the givens.

[mrscoulter5ever]

Truth Requires Bravery (Ch2)

Chapter 2:

I tried my best to put on a brave face while walking to my desk, but Candor are notoriously good at seeing through bullshit. James, one of the Candor security guards, asked me if I was alright. Shit. How was I going to get around this? I could lie, but he'd spot in a second. While most of Candor probably knew I was divergent, I also wasn't exactly keen to remind them, especially considering the timing. I needed to tell him enough of the truth to sound convincing, but not so much that I put myself in danger.

"Just a bit nervous, James. Saw something on TV that really scared me," I replied. As much as Candor were honest, I was also part Erudite, and I was generally cautious in what information I chose to share with others. My TV habits, thankfully, were not one of them, so James had no idea that I usually watched the evening news broadcast.

"Ah, yeah, those scary movies'll get to ya! Least you weren't watching one right before bed, ya might not've slept for a week!"

"Yeah, that's true."

James nodded and returned to his post. I finished setting myself up at my desk. Six hours passed fairly uneventfully, and I began to find myself calming down.

Suddenly, just past midnight, the Candor guards started making a commotion, running around and communicating on their radios. Some even left the main hall and went outside. Since James was the closest guard to my desk, I managed to grab his shoulder and hastily get his attention.

"James, what's going on?!"

"Some Dauntless soldiers were spotted at the entrance to Candor. We're sending some guards out to meet them, while some of us are staying here just in case. You shouldn't need to worry about it, we have enough guards stationed tonight. Just stay put at your desk here and you should be fine. If anything happens, just follow my lead" Fuck. Well then. Unlike the security guards, I had absolutely zero self defense training, so I instead shakily returned to my desk, feeling much like a sitting duck.

I sat there, wide eyed, watching the commotion. Part of me was terrified, and the small Dauntless part of me hated myself for being so terrified, and for doing nothing. That part was tempered by the Erudite part, which recognized that I had no real training that would be of any use, but the internal Dauntless rage grew regardless. I resolved myself that I couldn't physically fight back, sure, but that didn't mean I had to make it easy for the Dauntless. I still had my Erudite smarts and Candor tongue. Surely I could at least piss them off a little bit. Maybe that was a dumb idea, but my Dauntless rage was quickly overcoming my Erudite rationality.

Finally, with a loud crash, a large wave of Dauntless soldiers stormed in through the glass entryway to Candor, cuffing or shooting down many of the guards stationed in the main hall. I noticed that James had been shot in his side, and I quickly felt my ire begin to reach a boiling point.

Now red hot with anger, I focused my eyes on the two men at the head of the Dauntless soldiers. Both were, admittedly, fucking hot. I almost felt a brief pinch of regret at myself for transferring to Candor and not Dauntless. But of course, if I had done that, I would have been dead the minute anyone found out I was Divergent. Instead, I took a minute to inspect the two men. One was younger, with brown hair and narrow green eyes. His face held a cocky smirk that made me want to punch him so badly. Trying to remain calm, I turned my attention to the other man. Now here was a specimen of masculinity. His blonde hair was neatly shaven, and his face looked vaguely familiar, but I couldn't but my finger on it. He carried himself with an air of authority that, in full Candor honesty, was starting to turn me on a little bit. He was the most ripped man I have ever seen - just muscles upon muscles upon muscles. And I thought the Candor security guards were in shape. He made them look like prepubescent boys. Still breathing heavily from his dramatic entrance, the blonde man's chiseled torso (as if sculpted by Zeus himself!) heaved up and down. I couldn't help but find myself staring at a bead of sweat that trickled down his chest and underneath his black tank top. Thankfully I don't think he noticed, or else that would have been incredibly embarrassing. Fixing myself with a neutral yet haughty gaze, a remnant of my Erudite upbringing, I waited calmly for his approach, doing my best to keep my own arousal in check.

Moments later, I was face to face with perhaps one of the finest men I have ever seen - that is, until he opened his mouth. "Who are your Divergents," he barked at me, in a tone that left no room for argument. His dismissive brusqueness rubbed me the wrong way.

"Last I checked, I don't answer to you." I replied cooly, while raising an eyebrow.

Clearly, that was not the answer he wanted to hear. He growled, leaning in until he was inches from my face, his ice blue eyes staring directly into my soul. "I'm going to say this again. Who. Are. Your. Divergents."

"I can see why you're not Erudite," I answered smugly, "nevertheless, I'll repeat it again for your Neanderthalic brain. I. Don't. Answer. To. You." I accentuated this last word by pointing my finger into his chest.

His stormy blue eyes filled with rage and he threw me up against the wall, his hands wrapped around my neck as if to choke me. My eyes widened with shock, but then quickly returned to their rage-filled glare. I faintly heard someone laughing in the background. Keeping my eyes firmly fixated on the blonde man in front of me, I quickly scoped out of my peripheral vision that it was the green eyed man who was laughing.

"Let her go, Eric. If you kill her we won't get to have any fun with her. And she is pretty feisty," he said with a wink, then looking me up and down salaciously. I couldn't help my nose curling up in disgust. I'm very glad I didn't transfer to Dauntless if this is what their men are like.

"Shut up, Peter," (so that was his name) the blonde man said, albeit dropping his hold on me. I tried to thinly breathe, wanting to catch my breath but not make it obvious the effect his hold had had on me.

Next thing I knew, the blonde man - Eric - was pointing a loaded gun at my forehead. "Now, since you won't do this the easy way, we're going to do this the hard way. You're going to come with us, and we would appreciate your Candor honesty," he said, with a pointed look at me.

I saw no way out of this situation but to comply, but I sure as hell wasn't about to comply so easily. I grabbed the gun and pulled the butt of it so that it was resting directly against my forehead. I saw a bit of shock and - was that respect? - flash in his eyes at my bold move.

"I'll come with you," I said, "but let me clear, I don't have to answer to you." I glared firmly at him.

His lips pursed and he returned my glare. I continued to stare him down for what felt like hours. I felt like I couldn't breathe, the way his smoldering blue eyes gazed at me.

"Fine," he muttered grumpily, looking at me one last time with a look that, if I didn't know any better, could have been classified as admiration, or even - desire? Fuck, my attraction to this man was clearly getting to me. He averted his eyes and I couldn't help but smirk at having won our little staring contest.

I turned around and he shoved the gun into my back. I threw my chin up in a display of false confidence, thankful that I was surrounded by Dauntless who were not trained to see through such facades, and began to walk forward.

[masternest]

I feel like blogging again. Not like any of my friends read these even though I’ve told em about it. But hey, if you’re a friend of mine and you happen to read what I put, then thank you and let me know ^^ drop a hi as I’d truly like to know who’s invested in trying to get to know me

So back to the blog. This 2024 has started out sucky. Where the hell do I even begin. Worst part obviously is going back to the US. In the Philippines, it always seemed like I was treated like a prince but here in the US, I feel like a peasant. Especially with San Diego being the most expensive city to live now? Fuck my life. Thanks god for that. I can’t even be near my kids so just add on the taxes why don’t cha. I can’t even be near her or Matt. So a lot of the times, I’m just -_-

So what other horrible thing happened you say? Well I’m glad you asked random stranger. This is just me venting now to the void lol XD so after a long ass flight, I needed to figure out a way back to SD by bus. I had forgotten though that after the bus, I’d need to use a trolley. But after that, I needed to drag my luggage all the way up the huge hill. In hindsight though, it was a good workout for the arms. Exhausted, I come back to my apartment which is now locked by a fence gate which is usually unlocked but because my bud wasn’t sure that he locked the place, he called maintenance to make sure that it was indeed locked with a key that they never provided me. I shit you not when I tell you that I literally had to break in through my own place. I won’t say how I did it for security reasons lol but my supposed genius level intellect finally kicked in and with a bit of acrobatics, I got in

Next day, the chikas that live above had the place inspected since they were smelling gas for weeks? Weird they only did something now but glad that they did actually as there really was a problem. Kwang while I was away had mentioned that our gas bill seemed to more than double so this was now the true culprit. So to fix it, they shut off the gas. So no heat for a few days. Just great. Add on that my bud became mega sick from his NY trip. But at least we both don’t have Covid. Add on that the kids don’t respond back anymore to me through FB. The ex is back to her old ways it seems of blocking access to me even though I literally pay everything on time and pay in full mind you. I didn’t even do anything to anyone. This is bullshit

But I need to focus. This is an important year. She’s been working hard so I should too. Not that she’ll care too much but we’ll see. I’m so close to accomplishing my goals that have been years in the making. I’m proud of myself for getting Discord back on my phone again so yay. So many people I need to reconnect with but I promised myself I would. So yeah let’s do this. If you’re still reading, what the hell stop stalking and tell me who you are XD but if you’re interested, I’ll try to blog more about my progress on Game Development in the future apart from posting memes that I find funny. If I even remember to. Or maybe this will be my last word post for the year lmao we’ll see

[plotbunnsies]

Can I Save Them All

Part 3/?

Previous / next

Louis looked around the abandoned apartment, pondering.

He looked the place up and turns out it's for sale. The whole building actually is, and for a low price, which is suspicious, and Louis can’t figure out why?

Louis has been here for a month now, and there’s nothing wrong with this apartment. He’s inspected this apartment 4 times, and after seeing the building’s price, he thoroughly inspected it again, and came out blank! He’s even done a day’s worth of research in case a quirk affected the building or something, but all he came up with was that it’s on the bad side of Musutafu (Which is bullshit. No one has bothered Louis until now and there are no heroes patrolling here. If anything, this is probably the safest part of Musutafu, just a bit dirty)

So, Louis decided he wants to buy the building, and after a bit of searching, he found a job that will help him get the money needed.

It’s at a cat café. He’s very excited. He’s never come near a cat before, and he’s very curious(a lot of people call them “Backstabbing” creatures, and yet people love them? To the point of people calling them their boss? interesting)

He’s filled up an application, got accepted, and now he only needs to go to the café so they know he’s a real person and not a liar.

But before he closed his laptop, something caught his eye. A question.

A quirk question, on a forum he was browsing for any signs of a character that he knows the age of (he’s still hesitant to hack with Nezu around). Louis knows next to nothing about quirks (he really needs to research more) but

He knows biology. He knows about human, animal, and insect biology and he knows physics and chemistry and he knows too much for an eighteen-year-old (he had personas he needed to perfect)

And Louis was curious (he’s been curious) He wanted to know whether this knowledge could help him or will it be of no use. If he’s literally going to have to relearn everything. And this question seemed harmless enough. Just asking if there's a way to control a hearing-enhancing quirk (they sounded desperate) The answer won't harm anyone

So Louis wrote a "quick" reply (it was three pages long) and ran out of the door. He had an interview? To nail.

--

Louis loves cats.

They're small and agile and light to pick up and furry and meows and purrs when you scratch them just right and-

Louis loves cats.

The owner of the cat café was pleased by that (he wasn't sure about Louis’s "I'm not sure" when the application asked him about his opinion of cats) but he still needed to ask Louis some questions.

"And it says here that you've worked in a café before?" The man, with greying hair and a kind face and the softest smile ever directed at Louis, asked.

"Yes"

"..do you have a manager's number? An owner I could ask about you?"

"No, that was when I lived in Europe"

"Ah, well how about you try making a drink? This is a café, after all. You'll need more than a love for cats to work here"

And that's how Louis got his job. He made a regular cappuccino with a caramel pump and drew a cat on top (oh my lord this looks adorable!) And the owner hired me (kid you were made for this) he said, which Louis laughed off. He was very much not made for this.

So he left the café, after giving every cat a treat, and promised the owner (just call me Komi, kid!) To come to work at 6 am. And so, Louis was on his way to the apartment. 

But soon, someone started tailing him. Louis walked three blocks, took two turns and the guy was still behind him.

This caused Louis to panic (what did he do? He's only hacked once into the government database and that's only to add his identity. Nothing else! He didn't even steal that much, only going out to steal twice a week) so quietly, Louis whispered to himself. 

"Two miles" he felt more than heard a confirming beeb, and just like that all cameras within a two-mile radius were disabled. Louis took a turn into an alleyway and quickly scaled the building, and is currently standing on a fire escape, calmly waiting for his stalker to come. 

Soon, a guy entered the alleyway, looking around impatiently. He didn't call anyone upon not seeing Louis, instead kicking the wall angrily and then moving to get out of the alley.

No, Louis thought as he jumped down behind the man and held a knife to his neck.

"Why did you follow me" He asked, inching the knife ever so slowly into his neck. 

"I-I didn't, I just wanted some money, man!"

Oh

Maybe the people complaining about this place were right. Perhaps it is a dangerous place.

Louis knocked him unconscious and continued his walk home.

"Disable two miles," he said absentmindedly. This is the first time he went anywhere without knowing everything about it. Sure he's not here for a reason, he just ended up here, but he does need to research this place more.

He just needs to find a way to do it without getting anyone's attention. 

--

Well, Louis was not ready for this. (He's not been ready for a lot of things since getting here)

Fourteen people, fourteen different individuals, were in his DMs and were asking for help using their quirks. Five of them were willing to pay for his advice. 

Louis is not ready for this.

But the promise of money keeps him from deleting his account (what part of staying unnoticed did he not understand?!) so stared at his laptop. He stared for 20 seconds, then he closed the laptop, put it in his backpack, and headed to the nearest bank.

He’s gonna need an account if he’s going to work online, after all.

--

 It was four in the morning. Louis was researching how exactly touch-based quirks work when he heard something.

Footsteps. Light, quiet footsteps climb the stairs of the building to the last floor.

The floor Louis was in.

Louis got up, and crept to the front door, waiting.

The footsteps came closer, Louis took out his knife.

Knob started to move, Louis took a deep breath

The door was pushed open, and Louis lunged his knife at the intruder’s neck. Sharp brown eyes met startled blue eyes, and Louis froze.

He was holding a knife at Dabi’s neck.

He slowly lowered the knife, watching Dabi for any signs of aggression, and laughed nervously.

“Sorry, bad habit”

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

I knowww that Quirk analysis is what Midoryia usually do in bnha fanfics, but i also want louis to do it and it's good technically legal source of money! Louis cant go around befriending good people if he's doing very illegal things. gotta start kinda small and when you cement yourself into the friend group you start showing your more messed up side! anyway for anyone who's reading this hope you enjoy! Previous / next

[sapphicautistic]

They're dicking us around I hate this so much. The guy finally got back to us and said he'd try to send us some info tomorrow. No word on scheduling.

With permission of the homeowner I pulled up the rest of the kitchen floor and the plastic barrier to reveal the older linoleum underneath so at least that will dry. Strong smell of mildew but if we're gonna have the industrial dehumidifier and air cleaner at least now they're doing something instead of just sitting there uselessly where we'd already dried. As they have been for like a week now.

We think this company may continue to just jerk us around.

So we called the plumbing company that failed to fix our toilet but at least has great customer service and has never ghosted us.

They have a water restoration service and we made an appointment on Thursday for an inspection and we were told they'd probably start demolition next Tuesday.

We did warn them we'll cancel if the company we're already contracted with comes here first but I'm not optimistic that will happen.

I'm gonna call in the morning and try to get the plumber out in the next couple days to fix the toilet and just cancel with them if by some miracle demolition actually starts first.

I can scrape some meals together with what food we have, very annoyed at the inability to plan though.

My partner thinks we were never actually on the schedule and both telling us they'd come today and telling us something more urgent bumped us are both bullshit. I kind of believe it tbh.

They're not starting work today 😭 a more urgent job came up.

Someone from the mitigation company took pity on us though and is going to try to give us an idea of what needs to happen and how long it might take once they do start.

So we'll see how this goes. A little stressed about the food situation. If they're gonna come in the next few days it's probably stupid to get groceries but we ate and got rid of food in anticipation of not having fridge or freezer, we were expecting to have dinner with my partner's parents at their house tonight and get groceries there the next day.

We can do this though. I'm dreading unpacking and repacking everything but I can do this. I'm brave.

And having a guess about how long we'll be out of the house and how long we can't use the kitchen would be huge!!

[thearvariblues]

The Mysterious Case of Jaskier's Immortality

Word count: 3601

*

“So nice to see you again, Yennefer,” Jaskier says, putting on one of his many fake smiles.

“Jaskier,” she replies with a smile that almost looks genuine but Jaskier is pretty sure that it’s not. Which she confirms a few seconds later by saying: “Shouldn’t you be dead already?”

“I see you’re as kind as always, my dear. But don’t you worry, Geralt is doing a very good job when it comes to protecting me.”

“Hm,” Geralt sighs resignedly, clearly regretting his decision to spend the night in an inn instead of the middle of a forest.

To be fair, it was Jaskier who suggested it, claiming that he refused to be eaten by angry drowners, no matter how many times Geralt tried to explain to him that the probability of finding a drowner in the middle of a very dry forest is extremely low.

If Jaskier knew they were going to run into Yennefer in the inn, he would have risked the drowners.

“I don’t doubt that,” Yennefer smirks. “But seriously, how old are you, bard?”

“No idea. I stopped counting after fifty, I think.”

“You know, you don’t look fifty,” she says.

“Oh, well, my mother had an elf lover before I was born, so there’s a fifty-fifty chance that I’m not gonna age anytime soon. Sorry,” Jaskier smiles again, sweetly – and this time, it’s genuine.

“As if,” Geralt grunts.

“I’m sorry, dear?” Jaskier blinks.

“Come on, Jaskier, it doesn’t work like that. You’re a viscount, that means your father must have been a viscount, too.”

“You don’t know much about nobility, do you, Geralt?” Yennefer snorts.

“Hm,” Geralt grunts. “Still, he’s not a half-elf.”

“Let me guess, you’re a Witcher, therefore you could smell it if I was? I hate to break it to you, dear heart, but you’re going to have your nose checked.”

“You’re not a half-elf, Jaskier,” Geralt repeats. “You’re not immortal, you just… look young.”

“Yeah, right, you got me,” Jaskier shrugs. “I just look good because I moisturize. Happier now?”

“Much,” Geralt nods. “See? You can be honest if you want.”

“Yup,” Jaskier nods. “Honesty personified. Now please excuse me, I need to go and moisturize some more. Internally. With ale.”

*

“I’m actually a mermaid, you know?” Jaskier grins the next time he’s asked, this time by a very confused and very old Valdo Marx.

“A siren, Jaskier. Not a mermaid,” Geralt sighs, praying to Melitele to give him strength. “And you’d know that, of course, if you actually were a siren.”

“Just so you know, the term siren is actually quite offensive to my people.”

“You mean idiots?” Geralt chuckles. “You’re not a siren, Jask.”

“Can you prove that I’m not?”

“Well, last week you tripped and fell into this creek that was like… knee-deep, and you nearly drowned.”

“I was in shock!” Jaskier proclaims dramatically. “But I have a proof that I am, or at least could be a siren.”

“What proof?”

“Well, my lovely voice, of course!”

“Not as lovely as you think it is,” Valdo Marx snorts.

“Come on, Jaskier,” Geralt sighs, ignoring the old troubadour. “You have much better voice that any siren I’ve ever heard.”

“Geralt of Rivia!” Jaskier gasps, clutching his chest. “Was that a compliment?!”

“Fuck,” Geralt mutters. “I didn’t mean…”

“Really though, Jaskier,” Valdo says. “How?”

“That’s a secret I’ll take to the grave, I’m afraid,” Jaskier grins. “Once I manage to reach it.”

“Keep on with the bullshit, Jaskier,” Geralt growls, “and you can reach it tonight.”

“Fifty years traveling with him, and he still thinks he can scare me. Cute, isn’t he?” Jaskier laughs. “Oh, Geralt you could never.”

“Try me.”

*

“All right, I’ll tell you my secret,” Jaskier winks at Ciri, who lifts an eyebrow. “I’ve got this neat… magic ring.”

“Hmmm,” Ciri observes. “Looks like a normal signet ring to me.”

“Well… Yeah, well, it looks like it, all right, but actually–”

“Jaskier, I was born a princess. This is clearly a Pankratz family signet ring.”

“Damn,” Jaskier groans. “Like father like daughter, eh?”

“Sorry,” Ciri shrugs.

*

“I got myself cursed.”

Triss Merigold lifts an eyebrow.

“Somebody cursed you to live forever, is that so?” she asks and her voice is almost dripping with disbelief.

“More like cursed me,” Geralt murmurs.

“Oh, shut up, Witcher, you know you couldn’t live without me,” Jaskier smiles brightly, and Geralt has to bite his cheek to stop himself from smiling back.

“Hm,” he says instead.

“Eloquent as ever,” Jaskier nods.

“Would you like me to...” Triss clears her throat. “You know, try to lift the curse?”

“No!” Geralt yells before he can stop himself.

“See?” Jaskier beams. “You could never live without me!”

*

“A bruxa,” Jaskier repeats to a young man who claims to be his son, but looks older than his supposed father.

“You’re not a bruxa, Jaskier!” Geralt whines.

“Excuse me, and how would you know?”

“Because I’m a fucking Witcher?!”

“Well, you’re clearly a fucking horrible Witcher if you haven’t noticed until now!”

“I think I’d notice if you tried to sneak out of the camp at nights to feed,” Geralt comments, crossing his hands. “You can’t even sneak out to take a piss, Jask.”

“Maybe I do that on purpose!”

“Besides, bruxae are mostly women.”

“Mostly being the important word here.”

“Fuck’s sake, Jaskier. You won’t even eat a piece of meat if it’s not so well-done that it’s almost cremated.”

“Do you know how disgusting the blood is, Geralt?!” Jaskier groans, and then immediately blinks when he realizes what he just said. “I meant…”

“Case closed,” Geralt nods, satisfied.

“Oh, dear,” Jaskier mutters. “I fucking hate you sometimes.”

“Uhm, my lords, if I may,” the young man says.

“Hate to break it to you, kid, but if you’re aging like a normal human, you’re probably not my son,” Jaskier shrugs. “Sorry. I get it why your mum might be confused, though. It was quite a night, with at least four–”

“And that’s enough,” Geralt says, grabbing Jaskier by the collar and pulling him away from the man. “You know, lifting the curse seems like a good idea now.”

“There isn’t really a curse, Geralt,” Jaskier laughs.

Geralt sighs, his lips curling into a tiny smile that Jaskier cannot see.

“Thank fuck.”

*

“You see, we were in a crazy mage’s tower and I saw this bottle and I thought it was slivovitz, so I drank it, but it seems that it actually was some sort of an immortality potion,” Jaskier explains to a lady at the ball, whose grandmother he’d apparently fucked once, when said grandmother was still a young, unmarried woman.

Geralt only blinks, because it’s the first truly plausible explanation for Jaskier’s mysterious immortality.

“Oh, that must be so horrible to watch everyone you love die!” the woman nods enthusiastically. “Perhaps you’d like to tell me about it in private?”

“Of course, my dear…” Jaskier smiles. “Just… wait a second. How old is your mother?”

“Forty-seven, why?”

Jaskier’s lips are moving silently for a few seconds while he counts, and then thy turn into a wide grin.

“No reason, dear,” he says, offering her his arms. “Shall we?”

When Jaskier and the lady flee the ball, Geralt pulls out his flask of White Gull and pours its contents into his empty tankard.

So, a potion…

*

“There is no such thing as an immortality potion, Geralt,” Yennefer shakes her head.

“How can you be so sure?” Geralt asks. “Maybe this mage really did find a way to at least make the human life longer!”

“And why would he do that?” Yennefer scoffs. She has been doing that a lot since she finally ended their relationship for good about twenty years ago. (He later found out that she had left him for none other than Triss Merigold, but Yennefer still doesn’t know that he knows, and he’s having way too much fun with it to break the fact to her. So right now, he is pretending he doesn’t notice that Triss is eavesdropping on their conversation behind the door leading to Yennefer’s bedroom, and that he absolutely believed Yen when she claimed that the loud thud a few minutes ago was caused by a cat.) “We are immortal, Geralt, unless killed. There is no reason for any of us to make a potion that would make a human live forever.”

“Well, perhaps this mage fell in love with a human and wanted them to stay with him!”

Yennefer pauses, inspecting Geralt from head to toe and back again, and then she sighs.

“Oh, Geralt. Really?”

“Really what?” Geralt blinks, genuinely confused.

“Oh,” Yennefer murmurs. “Oh, no. Really?”

“Really what, Yen?”

“You mean you don’t… Oh, dear gods. Really?”

“Yen, I swear that I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Geralt grunts, frowning.

Yennefer rolls her eyes and tries counting to ten to calm herself down. She doesn’t even get to three before Geralt’s eyes go wide.

“Oh,” he whispers. “Fuck.”

“Fuck, indeed, Geralt,” she nods solemnly. “Fuck, indeed.”

*

“I found a djinn, he granted me a wish,” Jaskier says when Geralt asks him, about five minutes after his meeting with Yennefer. (He agreed to use a portal to get to the bard as soon as possible. A fucking portal!) The bard is sitting in a tavern and eating his dinner, utterly undisturbed by the sudden appearance of an angrier-than-usual Witcher.

“You never mentioned a djinn,” Geralt growls. “And after your last encounter with one, I sincerely doubt you’d engage with another.”

“You clearly don’t know me at all–”

“Besides, Valdo Marx, as far as I know, had an apoplexy while fucking a young student on his desk, and I don’t think you’d ever let him die like that if you had a choice.”

“You see, that was kind of a my mistake, since I didn’t specify the time and the circumstances of his apoplexy in my wish, so…”

“What was your third wish?”

“Pardon me?”

“Your immortality, Valdo Marx dropping dead, that’s two. What was the third one? And don’t even try to mention the Countess de Stael, since you’d have to dig her up first.”

“That was disgusting, even for you, you know that, Geralt?”

“How are you immortal, Jaskier?!”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

“Try me.”

Jaskier puts a piece of bread in his mouth and grins.

“Maybe some other time, Witcher.”

*

“I am a fae,” Jaskier replies a day later.

“You’re not a fucking fae, bard.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because you fucking lie, Jaskier. All the time.”

“Fuck. Didn’t think of that.”

*

“You see, there was this artifact–”

Geralt closes his eyes, turning Roach around.

“Let’s consult Yennefer about this.”

“Oh, mother of…” Jaskier whines. “All right, no artifact, there was no artifact! Geralt, I’m telling you, there was no…”

*

“You’re not a succubus.”

“But it would be a perfect explanation, wouldn’t it?”

“You’re not succubus, because if you were, you’d know that a male one is called an incubus.”

“Oh, you and your stupid Witcher terms again.”

“You’re not an incubus, Jaskier, because if you were, I could never let you near Eskel.”

“All right… Explain, please?”

Geralt grunts.

“I’d really rather not.”

*

“A dragon,” Jaskier grins victoriously.

“No,” Geralt says, shaking his head.

“No,” Jaskier agrees with a sigh.

“You know you could just tell me the truth and be done with it, right?”

“Hm… No.”

*

“All right, enough is enough,” Jaskier growls that night in their rented room, tossing his doublet aside. “You’ve asked me three times today, Geralt. Why the sudden interest in my immortality?”

“As you said, enough is enough. You’ve been traveling with me for what, a hundred years?”

“A hundred and four.”

“Yes, and you still look the same as the day I met you in Posada!” Geralt growls. “And it drives me mad!”

“It wasn’t driving you insane for at least fifty years, so why the sudden change of heart?”

“Fuck off, bard. You don’t have to tell me. I don’t care.”

“But you do, Geralt,” Jaskier says, taking a step towards the Witcher. “Why?”

He’s standing in Geralt’s personal space, his chemise half undone, and he’s watching Geralt with those sincere blue eyes, and Geralt can’t fucking think…

“Because I love you, you idiot!” he snaps. “Because I fucking love you and I need to know if I can love you, or you’re gonna just drop dead one day without a warning!”

“Oh,” Jaskier whispers, his lips forming into a huge, happy smile. “Oh, fucking finally.”

“Fucking… what?” Geralt blinks, his arms suddenly full of an enthusiastic bard.

“I love you too, you silly Witcher,” Jaskier laughs. “I’ve loved you for a hundred years! Well, a hundred and four, but who’s counting?”

“You…” Geralt mutters.

“Silly, silly Witcher,” Jaskier repeats, pressing his lips against Geralt’s in a kiss that could be described as chaste, or at least the chastest Jaskier has ever been capable of. “We’re going to Lettenhove in the morning.”

“We are?”

“Oh, yes,” Jaskier whispers. “See, I’ve told you the truth about the source of my immortality once. But I think you need to see it to believe me.”

“Wait, you have? When?” Geralt asks. “Was it the artifact? Just tell me, I promise I won’t make you consult it with–”

“Shut up now,” Jaskier says, kissing Geralt again with way less chastity than before. “And in the meantime, believe me this – you can keep loving me, and I’m not planning on dropping dead anytime soon. Also, I’ve spent the last hundred years imagining fucking you senseless, so if you’re not opposed to the idea, perhaps we could, well…”

The kiss that this idea gets him is as far from chaste as one could possibly get.

And Jaskier definitely isn’t about to complain.

*

“You sure this is a good idea?” Geralt asks as they march towards the Lettenhove castle’s gates. He tugs at his doublet’s collar, way too tight for his liking. He’d much rather walk in there wearing his usual attire, but Jaskier insisted that Geralt must look presentable if he wants to meet his family.

It turns out that it only takes a single I love you to turn the bard into a manipulative bastard. Who would have guessed?

“Why wouldn’t it be?” Jaskier replies, grinning cheerfully. “And stop frowning, you’re gonna scare the servants, love.”

“How long it’s been since your last visit here, Jaskier?” Geralt says, his frown deepening. “Who rules Lettenhove now, hm? Aren’t you only going to be a distant relative, a great-great-uncle risen from the grave?”

“I sure hope not,” Jaskier chuckles, stopping in front of the guards by the gate. “Good afternoon, gentlemen. Viscount Julian, here to see the Viscountess Madeleine.”

“How can you still be a viscount?” Geralt blinks when one of the guards promptly disappears inside.

“We kind of decided to, you know, share the title,” Jaskier shrugs. “Seemed fair. Besides, father, well, the former viscount, insisted that I inherit the title, but he never mentioned anything about Mads not inheriting it, so…”

“How could your father have known who the viscount is going to be in almost a hundred years?”

“He really didn’t,” Jaskier chuckles. “See, it will all start to make sense once you meet her.”

“Yeah, that’s what I’m hoping for.”

*

The guard returns a few minutes later, telling them that the Viscountess will meet them in the garden.

Geralt, knowing a thing or two about nobility, think it’s a little weird, but isn’t about to protest. He only thinks he could have left the fancy clothes at the tavern.

“Oh, shut up, you,” Jaskier chuckles when Geralt voices this thought. “You look gorgeous.”

“I know. You’ve mentioned it a few times. But I didn’t have to look like that, because we’re going to meet the ruler of this land in a fucking garden, and–”

“Julian!”

A woman in a long white dress throws herself at Jaskier, who happily catches her. Geralt’s first instinct is to reach for his sword, only to realize that he (luckily) left it in the tavern – because Jaskier insisted, of course.

“Madeleine,” Jaskier chuckles. “You haven’t aged a day.”

“Oh, yes. Shocking, isn’t it?” she laughs, pulling away from him, and for the first time, Geralt truly looks at her.

The woman is shorter than Jaskier, slim, and her dress is much, much simpler than Geralt would have expected considering the fact that is supposed to be a viscountess. She has dark, long hair and her face is so beautiful that it almost – but only almost – takes the focus off her pointed ears.

“Lady Madeleine,” Jaskier grins, “may I introduce Geralt of Rivia, my Witcher. Geralt, this is Lady Madeleine, the current ruler of Lettenhove and my younger sister.”

“You’re…” Geralt blinks.

“A half-elf, yes,” she nods. “Julian! You haven’t told him?”

“Hardly my fault. I really tried,” Jaskier shrugs. “But he just wouldn’t believe me.”

“So you brought him here to prove it to him, rather than to visit your beloved sister? You are a horrible, horrible sibling, Julian!”

“Your… sister,” Geralt mutters, all his thoughts speeding through his head, colliding and falling down, one over another.

“Yes, we definitely share a mother,” Jaskier confirms. “Most likely a father, too, and trust me, it wasn’t the old viscount. Madeleine got the elvish looks, I only got the non-aging bit. Well, apparently.”

“But…” Geralt blinks. “Your father. The title.”

“Yen was right, dear heart, you really don’t know shit about nobility,” Jaskier snorts. “But I admit that even though our dear departed noble father knew that Mads wasn’t his daughter, obviously, it never occurred to him that I might not be his true son.”

“But you don’t age!”

“In his defense, that only became clear after his unfortunate passing.”

“And you aren’t going to start to age anytime soon,” Geralt mutters. “You really aren’t.”

“Told you so, didn’t I?” Jaskier winks, letting go of his sister and wrapping his arms around his lover instead.

“I… I…” Geralt stammers. “Fuck.”

“Maybe later, love,” Jaskier smiles. “Madeleine, my dear, wouldn’t you say that my return calls for a feast?”

“Absolutely. In fact, I have started the preparations the second my spies informed me that you have crossed the border.”

“Oh, so we have spies now?”

“It’s really only a net of nosy old ladies, but it works wonders,” Madeleine laughs. “I must admit, though, that I was only planning a feast to celebrate you coming home, but now I see we have a much better reason to party. Tell me, brother, did you finally get your stupid Witcher?”

Jaskier smiles brightly, turning his head to Geralt.

“Yes. I finally got my stupid Witcher.”

“Party,” the Witcher in question growls. “Is that why you made me dress like a pompous prick?”

“No, that was because while I find your usual self extremely attractive, you still look much better when your hair is properly combed and you’re not covered in monster blood.”

“Hm,” Geralt hums, but wraps his arm around the bard to hold him close.

“Oh, yes, about monsters,” Madeleine says with the most innocent expression Geralt has seen since Ciri broke Vesemir’s favorite vase at Kaer Morhen. “You see, we have a tiny problem with a cockatrice…”

“Right,” Geralt nods. “I’ll go grab my armor from the tavern.”

“That won’t be necessary. I have already arranged for your things to be brought to the castle. And your horse,” she adds before Geralt can even open his mouth. “You can leave for your quest as soon as the servants get here.”

“So much for you not being covered in monster blood,” Jaskier sighs.

“Hm,” Geralt grins. “Lady Madeleine, I suppose you happen to have a bathtub somewhere in the castle?”

“Of course. In fact, there is a private bathroom right next to Julian’s bedroom.”

“Geralt of Rivia,” Jaskier purrs. “You know me so well.”

“Yes, and I expect to get to know you even better. In another hundred years or so.”

Jaskier laughs, pulls Geralt closer to him and kisses him.

“Another thousand years, I’d say.”

*

“What… the… fuck?!” Geralt croaks, staring at the smouldering remains of the cockatrice that would have surely killed him if Jaskier… If Jaskier…

The bard looks at his hands, then at the cockatrice, and then back at his hands again.

“Geralt? I have a feeling that I’m not really… A half-elf.”

“No shit.”

“I think I might be… Uhm…”

“Oh, shit,” Geralt whispers.

“I suppose, uhm, you know…” Jaskier stammers, wiping his palms on his trousers like he could wipe away the feeling of literal flames shooting out of them mere moments ago.

“Yeah. We’re gonna have to consult this with Yen.”

“Splendid,” Jaskier sighs. “Can it at least wait after the feast?”

“After more than a hundred years of you not even knowing, I think one feast will be fine.”

“Thank the gods. Madeleine would kill me if I tried to leave now,” Jaskier chuckles. “Let’s go, then. We need to get the fried monster remains out of your hair.”

“You’re… I was fucking right! You’re not a half-elf!”

“Yeah, you’re a great Witcher,” Jaskier nods, grabbing Geralt’s arm and dragging him away from the monster. “Didn’t notice I was secretly a fucking mage, but otherwise a great Witcher.”

“Explains a lot, though.”

“Does it now?”

“Yeah. I always had a thing for mages, you know.”

“Oh, Geralt. You’re such a fucking idiot,” Jaskier chuckles.

“Made you laugh,” Geralt shrugs, smiling.

Jaskier shakes his head.

“I’m so, so gonna drown you in that bathtub.”

“My love,” Geralt grins, “you’re more than welcome to try.”

***

Tagging @lottelorelei - I’m sorry I always forget to reply to your lovely comments, but believe me, they always put a big smile on my face! :)

[spookiekewchie]

YOUR TAGS ABOUT READER SUMMONING ANDY FOR A HUG (OR SOME D) 👀

Omg she would totally. And she'd be wearing lingerie or nothing at all probably. Andy might be grumpy thinking some lowly human is wasting his time but the frown would soon turn upside down once she's done with him 🤣

Oh Nonnie, I bet you weren't expecting this but here I go back on my bullshit

Call Me When You Need

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Characters: demon!Andy Barber x woc!reader

Summary: Andy has to leave to tend to matters in hell, but when you need him he comes.

READ: LOSING MY RELIGION / CHRIST IS COMIN', AND SO AM I

Word Count: 900

Warnings: general language warning, soft dark demon!andy, it's mostly fluff, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of shitty parents, implied future smut, petnames (Andy calls the reader little angel)

A/N: I made an attempt at proof reading but I probably missed some things so excuse any errors or typos. The image is edited by me (the black eyes), the post the nonnie is referring to is here, divider is by @firefly-graphics

DO NOT repost or translate my work anywhere. If you like it don't forget to reblog and share with others who might enjoy it as well.

You’re so stressed that you can’t even think about anything more than getting back home and wrapping yourself up in Andy’s arms. You had been doing so good, but one disastrous lunch with your parents has you so frustrated that you’re close to tears.

“Andy?”

Nothing.

“Andy where the—oh…” that’s right, Andy is currently in hell being King Asmodeus. You huff, arms wrapping around yourself as you pace the living room thinking about what you should do. It’s only been a week since Andy left, and you were already in a state over it. But now this? No you need to see him, and you need to see him now. You got to the kitchen, rifle through the drawers and pull out a piece of chalk and several candles.

Dumping it all out on the floor, you set about the laborious task of rolling up the expensive rug so that it’s out of the way. With it out of the way you carefully etch out the circle, draw the necessary symbol, and set out your candles. Lighting them, you chant the words in some long dead language and manage to keep yourself from laughing at how ironic it is that you of all people are summoning a demon. Well, summoning your demon. If your father could see you now you’re sure he’d have a heart attack, or he’d try to cast out whatever he’d be convinced was possessing you. For some reason the thought of that has your frustration spiking again and when you slit your palm and let your blood drip onto the symbol you’ve drawn.

You think for a moment that there’s something you’ve forgotten to do, but the thought vanishes when a burst of fire erupts from the middle of the summoning circle, and thick smoke billows up into a tall column. When it dissipates there stands a demon, your demon, looking irritated and annoyed at being summoned. “Who dares summon me!” His voice booms, and you flinch at the sound of it. It sounds bigger than life, like it’s coming from everywhere all at once. An involuntary whimper shudders out of you and it draws his attention. Andy whips around, eyes shining black before his eyes shift into the brilliant blues that you’re used to. “Little angel?”

His voice is soft when he speaks to you this time, and you breathe out a sigh of relief. “Why did you summon me?” He questions, looking around at the set up before narrowing his eyes slightly. You forgot the protection ring of salt, he’ll get on you about that later but for now he wants to know what was so important that you felt the need to pull him away from his duties.

Suddenly you feel silly and irrational, part of it you think might be the hormones. You haven’t taken a pregnancy test yet but you already know that you’re a few weeks late for your monthly. You huff, pressing a dish cloth to your bleeding palm as you stand to your feet. Andy reaches out for your hand, and you place it in his without question. He pulls the dish towel away, inspecting your sliced palm before running his thumb along the cut. It heals and soon enough it's like it was never there to begin with. You'd think you'd be relieved with that, but Andy's question still remains unanswered and your reasons for summoning him still seem silly to you now that he's there.

“I’m sorry, I just...I had a really rough day, I was sick all morning because I’m pretty you knocked me up, I saw my parents for lunch, which actually was just them letting me know that I've disappointed them for a whole hour, and now my dad is demanding that he meets you, but that's going to be a disaster, and..." you shake your head, "I just really need you here right now.” Andy watches you as you begin to pace, your words rambling out of you as you give him the quick rundown of your terrible, horrible, no good day. When he doesn’t say anything at first you think maybe you’ve overstepped and that he’s angry with you for tearing him away from important duties. Andy silences those worries when he steps towards you and pulls you into his chest.

“I’m sorry. I know you’re busy.” You mumble into his shirt, arms wrapping around him middle as you breathe out a sigh.

“You’re fine, little angel. Call me when you need.” He reassures you, and you sigh in relief when you feel him holding you tighter.

The two of you stand there like that for a moment, until you feel the lump in your throat dying down and some of the tension in your body easing away. You know he can’t stay, he has to go back and it’ll likely be another few days before he’s back again. It makes you want to bring up the topic of him letting you go with him again, but the two of you have already had that conversation and you know his answer won’t change. “How long can you stay for?” Chin lifting so you can peer up at him.

Andy smirks, moving to take your face in his hands as he bends to press a slow kiss to your lips. “Long enough to fuck the stress out of you, little angel.”

[12timetraveler]

I am about to lose

MY MOTHERFUCKING MIND

I can't remember if I've posted about it on here. I think I have. But I've been trying to get solar installed on my house since LAST DECEMBER and it has been an absolute nightmare.

Back on March 10th I finally signed the papers and settled on getting solar panels.

When I first ordered the panels I was very clear that I wanted as many as we could squeeze onto my garage roof, as it gets the most sun for the longest portion of the day. And then I wanted some on my house roof to power whatever those panels on the garage couldn't cover. They said no problem sounds great.

They did tell me that it can take a couple months to get the approval back from the county, as my county is very stingy with solar panels. I said cool no worries I get it. It's just bureaucratic bullshit. Nothing to be done.

So finally on July 5th I got my solar panels installed. 4 months after I first signed for these panels.

The day of the install I was working from home. They came to my door and had me approve the "final" plans and got to work. In the early afternoon they came to the door again and said they were finished. I came out to look and noticed there were NO PANELS ON THE GARAGE.

So I went out and talked to the solar guys and I was like "you're done? What about the garage?" And they very proudly said "oh we were able to fit them all on the house roof."

My eye definitely started twitching a little but I was like... Okay well what's done is done. That's really not great that they didn't consult me about the changes but... They know best right?

So the guy takes me around to show me how to turn on the panels once I they pass their final inspection "in about 10 business days," and the solar guys went on their merry way.

So a few weeks go by and I never hear about the inspection from our power company. So I call them and they tell me they're waiting on paperwork from the solar company.

So I call the solar company and get told "hmmm I'm not sure. I'll reach out to the project manager and have them give you a call."

Week goes by. No call.

So I call again and finally get told "oh. So we're waiting for the COS forms to come back from your county."

Do you know what a COS form is?

Change of Scope. It's a form that has to be sent back to the county to approve when changes are made to the layout. So you know how it took 4 months to get the solar approved the first time? Yeah now I had to wait for the plans to be approved AGAIN before an inspection could be done.

The only reason the COS had to be submitted was because of the changes made to the plans WITHOUT MY CONSENT OR APPROVAL.

So there went all of July with all of it's beautiful peak sun. And then August. And September. Finally in the beginning of October it all got approved and the inspectors were sent out, the final inspection having taken place on Oct 18th. I was told I could turn on my panels. Finally.

BUT I still don't have working solar panels. Once I got the okay to turn them on, on the 18th, I did so, following the instructions the install tech had given me back in July. I assumed they were on, until I got the app set up to tell me what each panel is producing, etc and it told me I've produced nothing.

Then I get an email a couple days later with instructions on how to turn it all on. There are a few more steps than the solar install guy told me so I went out to try it. The problem is, half of the steps don't seem to apply to the setup I was give.

For example step one in turning it on is to flip the solar panel switch in the breaker that should have been installed on the day the solar panels were installed.

No such breaker switch was installed. They never came inside, never installed anything on our breaker panel.

There's also this little red nob that is supposed to be flipped to one specific position. But my little red nob does have two options like the instructions, it has three options. And none of them make the green light stay on like the instructions say. So I still am not producing power and no one will answer my emails as to how to get it turned on.

Now. On top of all of this, consider that my power company has been steadily raising the bills. My power bill is nearly double what it was this time last year. And by now I should be on solar power, but I'm not. So it's cost me nearly $1000 in power bills I shouldn't have had to pay.

The other fun thing is this: I'm "on grid" meaning I'm producing the solar energy, giving it back to the power company, and they basically credit me for what is produced. Any surplus that I produce during the peak months is supposed to be credited back to me during the winter, when the panels are covered in snow or the sun is at a bad angle or behind clouds. Theoretically I should produce enough power during the summer to get me through the winter without having to pay a power bill.

But because it's now October and I still don't have solar, I'm going to be paying power bills all winter because I won't be producing enough solar power to cover what I use. Because I never got to store up that surplus.

So it's cost me money in power bills all summer, and it will cost me money in power bills all winter. It's STILL NOT WORKING. And in the meantime, I'm having to start paying the $60 a month for the loan payments for the solar panels THAT AREN'T DOING JACK SHIT.

All the solar company has offered is to reimburse me for the September payment. Which I actually need to reach out to them on because they never did send me a check or anything. So for all this hassle and insanity, I've been given $60 in theory.

I have seriously never been this angry in my entire life. I can't afford to speak to like... A lawyer to see if there's anything legally that can be done. I can't get through to anyone at the solar company to just get the damn things working. Keep in mind I lost my job so I have no income to pay for all these bills I wasn't expecting.

Stay away from Titan Solar Company.