#my condolences to you felicia

[spiderxling]

@blckct​

Alright, so. Peter was realizing a few things today. The first— he was terrible at time management. It wasn’t exactly a new discovery but it was a lesson he never seemed to learn. Did he know he had plans today? Yes. Did he still somehow manage to run late, even though he had it in mind since the moment he woke up? Also yes.

The second— he was really rusty at making friends. There was a gut-wrenching panic that set in almost instantly when he looked at the time and saw he should have left his apartment five minutes ago. As a result of said panic, he scooped up his homework before grabbing his phone to text Felicia that he would be there soon. The apology was riddled with typos but he was worried that these five precious minutes would make her realize her mistake, and never want to see him again.

The last time he had actually made friends was with Ned and MJ. And really, what did even do to gain their friendship? Nothing. It honestly felt like dumb luck that they stuck around him long enough to be tricked into liking him. But the truth? No one understood him like they did. Now that they weren’t in the picture anymore, Peter floundered when it came to any sort of interaction. It was all awkward and anxious and too many words falling out of his mouth that he couldn’t stop, and it was usually met with short answers and expressions that silently begged him to let them leave.

Needless to say, when Felicia asked him if he wanted to get lunch sometime it took a minute to sink in. There were a few people at ESU he was friendly with but holy shit she actually was asking to hang out with me?! Peter barely used his phone for things other than mindlessly reading through emails, or listening to police scanners. When he realized he had gotten a text, he figured it was one of his lab partners asking about the due date for the fifth time. He almost ignored it. But now he was glad he didn’t.

When Peter finally swung open the door to the little cafe, an already dramatic entrance made worse by the sharp twang of the bell, he was panting. Technically he had made really good time— this place was a frequent of his, after all. He knew how to get there without even trying. But he was still feeling terrible about running late, so when he noticed Felicia he hastily made his way over and apologized yet again.

“I really hope you weren’t waiting long.” Peter was starting to catch his breath as he set down the messy pile of textbooks and paper on the table (because why would he think to put it all in a bag to make his life easier, right?). He stood there for a few seconds, straightening out the pile the best he could before giving up and plopping into the seat across from her. “Hi. Sorry. I’ve got stuff due tomorrow and I guess I lost track of time. So this is— well, I just figured I would bring it to work on since I didn’t know how long we would be here. How are you? Do you want to order something yet? I’m starving.”

[noellie-writes217]

Proposition (Pt 1)

Pairing: mcu!spiderman x blackcat

Warnings: post nwh, lonely Peter Parker, alterations to canon comics, mature themes, violence, mentions of death, maybe smut? Minors dni

Summary: after infiltrating the avengers records, Felicia finds out Spider-Man’s identity after the memory wipe, and offers to help him in exchange for…

“Fucking hell!” Peter groans as he enters his apartment through the window. He crawls over to his freezer to get something to use as an ice pack. He sets it on the counter and shoots a web to turn on the light and pulls off his mask with a sigh. He flinches once he hears an unfamiliar voice. “You know you really should think about getting a better lock for your door… or at least a deadbolt. It was way too easy to get in here.”

The Intruder was a woman with white hair in all black. She had a mask on (which barely concealed anything— in Peter’s opinion at least).

“Who the hell are you?” As she stood up he shot a web at one hand to keep her where she sat but it ricocheted and got his hand on the fridge. “Struggling with your webs, Parker?” He clenched his jaw.

“Just the only person who really knows who you are… but don’t worry; I won’t tell.” She walked to him and slid one finger along his jawline.

“What do you want?” She spun around to grab the pack of frozen vegetables and wrapped it in a towel, afterwards turning to get a rag and running it under cold water. “How do you know where everything is?” Peter asked. She shrugs, “I’ve been here for a while, a few porn videos worth- not that I’ve been watching porn! That would be totally unladylike.” She starts to ramble, admittedly, Peter thinks it’s cute.

She shakes her head and gets back to what she was originally talking about, “That’s not why I came here— look, I know who you are. Peter Parker: attended Midtown High, orphaned and raised by his aunt May who recently passed— my condolences, by the way, she seemed amazing— you also are extremely intelligent, inventive, kinda nerdy, thinks of classic movies as old, mentored by Tony Stark, asked to join the Avengers at only 15– somehow Tony wasn’t charged with child endangerment— but refused the offer, you’re also the primary reason Tony Stark agreed to help the Avengers ‘unblip’ everyone, but most importantly: you are Spiderman.”

Peter’s mind spins, “how do you know that?” Strange casted the spell only a few months ago, but there’s no way she could have figured out his identity that quickly. “Does that really matter?” She tilts her chin. “Yes!”

Peter runs his had through his hair with a sigh, “Sorry… I just… How do you know who I am?”

She straightened out her hoodie, “I hacks into the Avengers secret files. And I’m not a bad guy…” she sighs.

“Could’ve fooled me.” Peter scoffs and puts the bag of frozen peas on his brow.

The girl hesitates, “Please Peter, I need your help.”

“You gotta funny way of showing it.”

“Desperate times.”

“Why are you so desperate?” Peter pulls a beer from his fridge. No, he’s 21, but the guy he got the fake ID from was perfectly willing to give him one in exchange for an autograph from Spider-Man for his kid.

“Aren’t you 18— never mind,” she starts, “I want you to put my dad in jail.” At that, Peter nearly spits out his beer.

“And why should I do that?” He asks as he sits at his table with the girl quickly following.

“Because he’s a criminal!” She pleads. “His name is Walter Hardy and he’s not a pleasant guy. He’s a burglar.”

Peter looks her up and down skeptically, “I suspect the apple doesn’t fall far?”

The girl groans, “Peter, please! I can’t keep living with him! If he makes me hack into one more security system I might die— or worse— I won’t be able to graduate!”

“How old are you?”

“I’m supposed to graduate high school this year, and I’ve been saving up for college but if he finds out he’ll take it from me! Please!”

Peter remembers that desperation to get to college, all the work it takes to save up— and he knows what it’s like for all the hard work to be worthless. So he’s thinking about it. “What did you say your name was?”

“Felicia.”

“Alright, Felicia Hardy. Why haven’t you called the police?”

She rolls her eyes, “The police have been after him for years— at least since my mom went back to Russia… or England— I’m not sure where she ran to, but that’s besides the point.” She tangents quite a bit, Peter notices.

“Your mom left?”

Felicia nods, “During the blip. I started learning to code and Dad got the bright idea to use my newfound skill to break into the Starks’. Mom said that was the last straw and left. But I guess she forgot about me or something…” It’s silent for a moment. “I was 15.”

This girl and Peter had led two very different lives. Hers was full of lies and red since she was young; and even though Peter was an orphan, before and after his parents death he always had someone there for him to help him out.

“Please just think about it. I’ll do anything.” She begs with her hands together.

Peter just takes another sip of beer. He still thinks beer is absolutely disgusting but he’s not gonna let his face show that.

“I can’t make you a new suit— one that doesn’t get ripped up so easily, o-or give you leads on over criminals— like scorpion! Or Jackel, or Rhino, or—”

“Or some other animal?”

“Peter, please.” She grabs her bag and pulls out a ripped piece of paper with a phone number scribbled on it and some cash and puts them on the table. “Just think about it.” And with that, she gets up to leave.

“I’m not gonna do it for money!” Peter calls out as she opens the door

“It’s not for that, it’s for you to buy a deadbolt.” She winks before shutting the door behind her.

Peter goes to lock the door and uses his web shooter to seal it shut before grabbing his glasses, one of the few things that survived Goblin’s attacks.

“Edith?”

“Hello Peter. How can I help you today?” Edith asks.

“Give any information you have on Walter Hardy.”

[writingmorsels]

Prompt: Eagles and Angels

After Alex's disappearance, you couldn't continue to work at your current police department in Chicago, so you ask to be transferred to another city dept. You wound up in Los Angeles. You try to forget Mahone with all the strength you have left as you go through your days off and on the field. One day you're invited to a charity party for some colleagues who have departed early and while you're there, you see something you would've never expected.

You checked your uniform one last time before entering the building.

A sea of black caps and golden trims moved around tables and chairs, making small talk and offering their condolences. Men and women coming from any angle of California, at least two from each department peppering the state.

Most of the officers were standing in small groups, holding glasses of sparkling wine snatched from the buffet table. You, on the other hand, approached the front of the crowd slipping through your colleagues and stopped in front of the photos put on display, a black ribbon in the top-right corner.

Five good men and two women, now dead in the name of serving and protecting.

You watched intently, feeling your throat closing when a little, evil thought slithered into your mind.

"His photo would never end up there."

One hand raised quickly to brush at your eyes, the tears threatening to make themselves known once again.

Alex disappeared for months now and no one had any idea where he went… the one that knew didn’t want to tell you even a smidgen of information on his last mission.

You asked and pleaded with Sullins for at least a week. You even cornered Wheeler and threatened violence on him and his small virility, but with no avail. You even tried to enter his now locked office, but once you managed to sneak your way in, you discovered it had been cleaned up of everything.

You swore to god you would search for him, but without a starter point, it all seemed useless.

You changed departments, you changed home and friends, but that didn't change the bleeding heart still in your chest.

Slowly, you grabbed your phone and opened it, watching the little photo you took of Alex: it was during one of your dinners together, where he finally drank a little and loosened up. His face had been rosy all evening and he laughed at every little thing.

The photo you snapped in secret was of him smiling, his head turned to one side, almost bashful. His true self, hidden underneath the cold façade he wore while working.

Your thumb caressed the glass of the screen, using that virtual picture to send a prayer for him like all those people did for the mourned.

The concept hit you like concrete in your gut. Alex was dead and you would never see him again.

Forgotten by his colleagues, hidden away like a stain.

The hope you buried deep into your soul finally gave its last breath and you closed the phone with a soft clack, the sound a metaphor of nailing that coffin shut.

"This was the worst idea…" you thought to yourself, your feet quickly turning around towards the exit of the hall, but as you passed by some officer talking to a lady, you heard a voice you recognized.

That tone had been etched into your brain for how many times you and Alex poured on the video he made, searching for clues, mistakes or just studying the guy.

Your eyes, shining with held-back tears, shot up towards the origin of the sound and there he was.

Michael Scofield, donning a uniform like he owned the place.

Shock and anger filled you, as you saw his hand reach underneath a table and grab something small and black.

He looked around briefly, and when Scofield saw your eyes glued on him, he stopped for a second.

Your glossy eyes betrayed the hatred you felt for him and the escapee surely noticed, because his body tensed while fast-walking towards a little hallway, hidden away from the rest of the party members.

Anger turned into rage as you walked right behind him, slithering among your other colleagues to reach his disappearing shoulders. A whirlwind of thoughts twirled in your mind, feeling the same hunting dog that was Mahone.

Why was he there? What was that little thing he grabbed? How brazen did he have to be to show his face there, wearing a police uniform?? What has he done to Alex??

After all he did, the lives he ruined...after he took Alex away from you.

You moved into the empty corridor and saw Scofield turning a sharp right into a little side-garden, probably searching for an escape route.

That was your chance, away from anyone, to finally grab revenge and make it yours.

As soon as both of you were around the corner of the hallway, you ran up to him and grabbed his forearm, slamming his chest against a wall on your left. “Where is he?!” you hissed into his ear, your elbow digging into his spine. “Where is Mahone??”

Scofield turned his head and looked at you with his cold gaze, but you could almost see a hint of surprise, a panic wash on his face before he could get a hold of himself. "I know he was after you. I swear to God–!"

Scofield immediately reacted, fighting your hold; what he lacked in training he had with height difference and desperation.

A punch managed to hit your cheekbone and your cap flew off your head, but you didn’t stop.

There were far too many questions to pry the answers from his mouth.

Like a snake attacking its prey you launched on him again. Your foot rose to hit his knee straight on, a move Alex taught you to make anyone buckle, but Scofield dodged that, his clear eyes passing from you to a form behind your shoulder.

Suddenly a big forearm wrapped around your throat and you were lifted a few inches off the ground by the tall figure that was Burrows.

You should've thought about that, the brothers rarely acted alone… you were too fixated on that forbidden knowledge to remember. "Lincoln let's go, I have the device..!" Scofield heaved, massaging his jaw you hit in your fury.

Meanwhile, Burrows was crushing your windpipe, but you didn't stop fighting: months of sadness, frustrations and pure heartache were pouring into your limbs like a river.

Your legs kicked and your back arched, hands trying to find a place to grab onto the escapee. When your fingers clawed at the fold of Burrows' elbow, you used his own body like a stabilizer and curled your legs up before pushing them down again with all the strength you had, trying to unbalance the burly man.

Burrows folded forward just enough for your feet to land on the floor again and immediately you pushed him back and against the wall, trying to distract him just enough to free yourself.

Just a little more, just a little harder before you would pass out from the lack of oxygen.

With a strangled growl you tried again, this time you drove your heel into the top of his foot and finally you felt his hold soften enough for you to free yourself. You turned and grabbed his still hunched shoulders, shoving your knee directly into his guts, again and again.

For a moment it seemed to slow him down, hearing him grunt in pain as you tried to down him, but all stopped all of a sudden.

"What are you two doing there?? We need to go!" you heard a hushed tone from the hallway and your body froze for a second, your reddened eyes shifting towards the voice you heard.

Alex…?

Burrows, seeing you distracted, sucker-punched the lights out of you, making you lose your footing.

The shock of the hit made you see black and stars, the taste of blood filling your mouth.

The punch probably managed to break one tooth, too.

You wanted to reply in kind to Burrows' hits, but again he grabbed you, twisting your arms behind your back and pushing your chest against the wall like you did with his brother.

No kick or wriggle could free you now, tired and still out of this world for the previous direct.

"Lincoln there's no time for this, they're all going out–" Mahone appeared from the corridor with a light jog and your barely focusing eyes met him for the first time in months.

Alex was as beautiful as you remembered, if only a little thinner, a little rougher around the edges. His eyes held a haunting light in the very back, but the bewildered look on his face made your heart squeeze.

Under that matter-of-factly behaviour, he seemed sad. Oh so sad, especially now that his lips mouthed your name in pure confusion.

While he stopped at archway, you started to fight more Burrows’ hold, feeling his hand search something on you. “I need to cuff her or she’ll blow our coverー” "Let her go," Mahone commanded hastily when he found his voice again, starting to approach you and Burrows “What…?” "Lincoln! Let her go!" He added more forcefully, almost panicked.

The moment Burrows' hands disappeared from your body, you shoved him away, only one thing mattering for you in that instant.

You closed the couple of feet between you and Alex with a leap and wrapped your arms around his neck and shoulders, exhaling a desperate sob into his neck.

At the same time, Alex moved his hands to hug you back into a warm, solid hold.

The dam almost broke when you felt his warm palm against the nape. "Alex…! Oh...m-my God, Alex…!" You heaved with desperate relief, clawing at the dark uniform he was wearing. At that sound, his whole frame crumbled and his embrace tightened, quivering. “Y/n...I’m so sorry love, Iー” "Where did you go??” you spoke again with a dense tone full of worry. Your hands detached from his shoulders only to cup his face, so you could see directly in those glass-like eyes you always loved the most. “ I thought you were dead…! No one told me where you were…! Sullins, Wheeler, even Felicia didn’t give me a fucking clue!" Your voice, at first sad, started to mount in emotions, remembering the time you literally begged Lang to tell you Mahone’s last known location.

Alex watched you with his face distorting into a mix of happiness and guilt, his own hands cradling your nape with sad sweetness. “It’s...Y/n, it’s complicated...” he whispered, feeling Michael and Lincoln’s eyes on his back, now that the brothers reunited. “Just...come with me? Please? We…” he turned his head slightly, as if asking permission to take you with him to Michael, who was now watching him intently. Lincoln seemed weary of you, while he massaged his offended abs. “It’s dangerous to be heー”

Your lips crashed on his in a desperate kiss when Alex shifted his gaze back to you, losing your breath in the effusion almost completely.

Both brothers raised their brows as they watched a vaguely shy Mahone blink into the sweet attack, before slowly replying, softening your frantic gesture into something warmer, tender.

Alex’s breath became cold on your skin and his fingers gently brushed away a few tears from your cheeks.

The kiss would’ve lasted longer, but Michael’s voice came up between them like a crowbar. “We have to go.”

Your attention rounded suddenly towards Scofield, watching him in anger. “Go where??” you growled, turning to Alex for a brief moment as if searching for an answer, only to return your eyes on Michael’s cold ones. “He’s not going anywhere, Scofield, do you hear me?? What do you have to make him obey like a good lil’ doggie?? Did you blackmail him?? Threatened his son??” At each barked question you took a step forward, towards the brothers. “I swear if you lay a finger on that boy you’ll beg to be killed!”

At the same time Mahone grabbed your arm to stop you and Lincoln put himself between his brother and your irate gaze. “Aw as if you would scare me, big guy!” you yanked at Alex’s hand, flexing the shoulders backwards while your chest puffed out. Your hands itched for some confrontation, the dark imagery in your mind giving fuel to your rage. “C’mon I’ll finish the job with you and then make your spindly lil’ brother spit out that brilliant brain of his!-” “Y/N! Stop it, immediately!” Alex’s voice came serious and sharp behind you, the tone you heard so many times from your Chief in Command.

You stopped fighting Mahone’s hold and your lips fell silent, but you still watched the brothers as if you could kill them with your eyes. “Y/n I’ll explain everything.” Alex then pulled you back and held you around the shoulders in fear you would jump the brothers again. “But Michael is right, we have to go-” “yeah, but leave the pipsqueak behind, would you?” Lincoln harrumphed, you and him exchanging lethal gazes.

“Is she trustworthy?” the younger brother asked instead and you squinted at him, clawing at Mahone’s dark shirt in a protective (and rather possessive) stance.

Alex sighed and nodded. “Yes. I can vouch for her...It’s been...a terrible month for everyone,” he quickly said to Scofield and the man seemed to understand.

He then turned to his brother and jerked his head towards the hallway, a silent sign that Burrows barely noticed.

Exiting the building became almost too easy and when the four of you reached a black, big car, you looked up to Alex. His face was serious and his eyes were wandering around on high alert.

His whole body was in full tension near yours, as you walked elbow to elbow, and for a moment replayed his words in your mind. “It’s too dangerous.”

Why was it dangerous? He was with the Bureau, a valued agent, one of the best! All those policemen would be honored to be in his presence…!

“Get on…” he whispered to you as he opened the car door, watching around with his jaw tensing.

The journey through the city was one of the heaviest you ever witnessed: the brothers were on the front seats, MeatHead driving and WonderBoy looking out of the windows, scanning the sidewalks.

You and Mahone took the back seats and you felt the silence push on you two, while Alex had one hand fisted on his leg and the other rested between your shoulder blades.

The stylish part of the city slowly morphed into factories and rusted iron, eaten away by the salt of the sea.

You saw some warehouses on your way to the group’s destination and finally Burrows parked haphazardly in front of a seemingly abandoned building. “We’ll stay out here for a second,” Alex called out to the brothers and while Lincoln didn’t even turn, Michael gave the federal a nod, watching you with calculating eyes, before disappearing inside that particular warehouse.

Only you and Alex remained on the quay, the man taking a deep breath before stretching his fingers towards you, softly touching your forearm. “Come…” he breathed, his previous hard voice now barely a wisp.

Mahone walked up to the cement barriers that functioned as guardrails along the edge of the port, the only thing protecting people from falling into the sea water. He turned and sat down on top of one of the Jersey bumps, completely deflated. “Alex...what happened…?” you prompted him, inching closer to him.

You didn’t have your fire inside anymore, anger now fizzled into worried sadness. You never saw him like that, completely defeated. A shadow barely holding onto its physical form. “It’s a long story,” he spoke without looking into your eyes. Instead, he moved one hand and slowly reached for one of yours, gently weaving them together. “I will understand if you will want to...keep your distance, after, but please listen… I really need someone to listen…”

And you did.

You didn’t speak while his voice started to pour out into a long, convoluted string. You absorbed everything, from the starting hunt, to Panama, through Sona and then out.

Your chest tightened as he recounted how Sona was, the killings and brutality, the blood shed and the constant fear of end up shanked. Instinctively you brought his hand to your chest as you heard his defeat against his personal demons, in the shape of white dust and a needle.

You listened about the Company, who and why were they against the brothers, the conspiracy behind Burrows’ death sentence and the courage his brother had to free him. All those words lit up a bunch of lightbulbs in your head, especially when Mahone explained that he worked for the Company twice already, doing double-crossing the second time he did. How they threatened whoever he loved. His son, Pam. You. “That’s why…” you whispered. “That's why you refused to even sleep...If I knew back then I could-” “you didn’t have to know. It was best that way...I couldn’t risk losing you too…” Alex sighed while you lowered your intertwined hands down, completely shocked and still processing all the infodump he just did.

But there was something he didn’t speak about and you could feel it, a thorn prickling in the background. Bleeding one droplet at the time. “There’s something you’re not telling me…” you muttered, inching closer to him. “Alex…Who…? Felicia? Pam?” you asked, seeing his empty eyes fixating on a far, non-existing point on the cement.

The lack of replies didn’t give you enough to work with, but you noticed something, a sorrow dug deep in him that no normal death would create.

If there was something Alex truly cared about was...

Oh no…

“...Cam?” you whispered, as the realization hit you.

You saw his kid from time to time and when your relationship deepened, you even brought the boy to school using your police car, earning you the ‘Police Mom’ title.

He knew about you and his dad, of course, and even Pam seemed satisfied that Alex found someone else to be happy with.

“Three...four days ago…” came the reply. He tried to remain collected, but you could hear the lump in his throat tighten.

You left his hand only to raise your arms and approach him, enveloping his head and his shoulders into a firm embrace. Your palm caressed his nape and you could feel his entire body collapse against you, as if the last trace of self-control disappeared the moment you hugged him.

His hands clawed at your back when he searched for your body like a castaway in the middle of a maelstrom, squeezing you tightly against himself while his face drowned in your presence.

He trembled without a sound, but you knew he was crying.

You rode with him the waves of agony, keeping steady against the hot tears you felt dampening your dark uniform. “Oh God I’m so sorry darling..” you whispered in his hair, kissing the top of his head. “I’m here now...I’m here and I’m not leaving...ok? I’ll never leave…” your hands caressed the back of his neck, his shoulder and what could you reach of his back, trying to smooth away the sadness he was so firmly enveloped into.

The embrace lasted minutes, where Mahone slowly relaxed more and more into it, until he finally took a deep breath and started to lean away, looking up to you.

His eyes were red and still wet, the icy blue of his eyes still amazingly beautiful even in sorrow. “We’ll get to the end of it, together...ok?” you whispered, holding a smile on your face, hoping to rub some of that optimism onto him. He only nodded, his throat bobbing with a swallow before he would stretch his neck and search for a kiss. You couldn’t deprive a desperate man some love, so you gladfully leaned down and met his lips with your own, a slow and soft press that asked for peace, even for an instant.

Was like that, a statue devoted to love and hardship, that you two were caught by an oblivious Sucre, just arrived from his part of the retrieval mission.

He slinked away with a shameful ‘sorry!’ after he realized who was there on the quay and while you furrowed your eyebrows, Mahone only sighed a little laugh, hiding himself again in your chest. “Thank you...for being here...for...being,” he muttered with a sweet, shy tone.

You hugged him some more, your time now to feel a lump in your throat.

[mirkwoodshewolf]

We’ll make it work; Wanda x Vision x child reader

*Author’s note*

Hey guys well it’s been a LOOONG time since I posted something OUTSIDE of the Bohemian Rhapsody/Queen fandom. So I hope that my marvel readers enjoy this cute little fic that had been on my wattpad inbox since like last Sept. And I PROMISE to those anons who have sent me requests from Doctor Who and a couple more marvel stuff, I WILL GET TO YOUR REQUESTS ASAP. So I’ll stop here for now and let you all enjoy this cute little fic :)

Taglist:

@plethora-of-things

@waddles03

@psychosupernatural

@ixchel-9275

@queensdivas

@platawnic

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels

_______________________________________________________

They said it couldn’t be done.  Hell everyone would say it was downright unnatural but yet it was finally happening. After the whole battle with Thanos and managing to bring everyone back, Wanda and Vision settled down together in a quiet suburban home in upstate New York.

They built their house from the ground up using their own two hands and decided that now with the white picket fence home, they could now start thinking about having a family together.  Now of course Vision being a machine he can’t physically reproduce but as luck would have it, there was an orphanage just 30 minutes from where they lived.

Wanda submitted an application to the orphanage introducing themselves and what their preference for adopting was.  They had agreed on wanting to adopt a little girl, preferably around 4-6 years old. With some interviews, home visits, and looking through the files, Wanda and Vision finally came to an agreement on their dream child, young (Y/n) (l/n).  

An orphan that was brought to the orphanage after her mom gave birth to her in prison.

Her parents were would-be-robbers who mostly robbed homes or cabins but then they got cocky hoping to rob a bank.  Unfortunately they were caught right before they got even a foot away from the bank.  It was there her mom found out she was pregnant and gave birth in prison before the foster system brought her to the orphanage.

After reading her backstory, Wanda and Vision knew immediately they wanted to have her.  So she called the orphanage and set up a meet and greet and in one week they would get to meet their future daughter.

When the day arrived, Wanda and Vision (in his human disguise) drove up to the orphanage where they met the Head organizer Ms. Eliza Soo.  She asked them some questions that weren’t on the application like what their current jobs were, and since they were publicly named heroes, that they had their powers under control for the sake of their future daughter.

The two heroes assured Ms. Soo that they had full control of their powers and do not intend on showing their powers before young (Y/n) unless she asks them to. After about 15 minutes of chatting away, Ms. Soo told them.

“Alright. Now unlike most meet and greets that other orphanages do, we personally would like to see how the potential parents interact with our children. Instead of trying to force the child to talk in a room with 2 strangers, we ask that the potential adopters meet the child in the Playroom. Are you two up for that?”

“Yes of course. I personally understand what it feels like. For most of my childhood it was only my brother and I for years before he…...” Wanda said.  At the mention of her brother, tears flickered in her eyes but Vision took her hand in both of his and gave it a gentle squeeze.

“My wife lost her brother just shortly after we met. They were both orphaned when they were 10 years old back in her old home of Sokovia.”

“Oh I’m so sorry Ms. Maximoff, my condolences on your loss. I lost my brother around that age too. Gunshot by a rival gang member.” She took a deep breath in before exhaling out. “Now then, (Y/n) should already be heading towards the playroom if not already there by now. Allow me to escort you there so that you three may get acquainted with each other.” The three of them stood up and Ms. Soo guided them out of her office and down the hall.

They soon reached a room that was labeled at the top of the door PLAYROOM. Decorated all over the door were various art projects that the kids have done and at the bottom there were their names and ages.

“Now we’ll just observe you guys from the double-sided mirrors and see how you guys interact with her. If we see that there’s a connection, then we can proceed with the legal adoption.”

“Thank you Ms. Soo.” Vision said.  She nodded and walked off leaving the couple alone by the door.  The two of them looked at each other and Wanda asked her husband and partner.

“You ready?”

“If you are, then so am I.” Vision responded.  Wanda then reached for the doorknob and turned it on its side to open it up.

When they stepped into the room, it was completely filled with every kid of children’s toys imaginable from toy cars and trucks, dolls and action figures, even a small TV with a videogame console.  There was also drawings hung up along the wall just like there were on the door.

Soon their eyes came to young 4 year old (Y/n) (L/n).  She was at a small circular table with some paper and crayons surrounding her.  Happily humming to herself as she continued to draw on the paper.  When she saw Wanda and Vision, her head tilted to the side like an intrigued puppy.

“Are you my new mommy and daddy?”

“We—we hope to be.” Answered Wanda.  A wide smile soon spread across her face and she raced right up to them and immediately embraced Wanda.  Once she felt that little girl embrace her, a warm sensation fell over her and she already felt that maternal instinct take over.  Wanda knelt down and embraced young (Y/n) and she said. “So what is it you were drawing?”

“Come look. I’ve been working really hard on it!” like every excited child that wanted to show off their accomplishments, she dragged them both to the table and they all sat down around it and she began to show them all the drawings she’s done.

Some of them were drawings of herself out in a flower field, with her favorite animals, but one picture struck out to the two of them.

“What is this picture of (Y/n)?” Vision said as he held up a picture of (Y/n) standing between two adult figures.  But they had no hair or facial features drawn yet.

“That’s a picture of me with my new family. I…..I didn’t want to finish it till I knew it was for real. Are you guys really gonna be my new parents?” Wanda smiled and gently placed her hand on top of (Y/n)’s head and stroked down it.

“If Ms. Soo thinks we’re good with you, then yes. We will be.”

“I know one way that can help you, follow me!” she then stood up and raced over to the toy chest and opened it up.  Inside were dozens of costumes ranging from feather boas, to every kind of hat imaginable. Donated Halloween costumes, and even some props. “Since you guys are real life heroes, do you think we could play superheroes?”

Both Vision and Wanda were a little hesitant but after seeing the hopeful look in (Y/n)’s face, they agreed.  So they want up to her and they dug through the costume chest to see what all they could find.

With the wide imagination (Y/n)’s had, her and Wanda would be the heroes while Vision was to play the giant fire breathing dinosaur.  They stacked up some blocks for the town and places the toy cars to make it feel like an actual city.  

Watching them through the double-shift mirror, Ms. Soo along with some of the other workers watched the two former heroes interact with (Y/n).

“Seems (Y/n) has finally found the family she’s always wanted.” Said one of the female workers.

“I agree.” Said a male worker.  Ms. Soo who had been watching with interest, began to realize that maybe her employers were right.

After about 10min. of playtime and just getting to know her a bit more, that’s when Ms. Soo stepped into the room.  Her face was stoic as she looked at the three of them.

Wanda and Vision stood up and Vision asked.

“Ms. Soo, is there something wrong?”

“No. As a matter of fact, I’ve seen all that I’ve wanted to see. And……you guys have proven to me that you’re meant to be her future parents.”

“Really Ms. Soo?! Wanda and Vision are gonna be my new mommy and daddy?” (Y/n) asked excitedly.

“Indeed they are. We’ll have the legal forms printed out and have you both sign them. Then in a couple of weeks you can officially move in with them to your new home.” Ecstatic about the news, (Y/n) jumped up and down happily cheering at the fact she now had a new mom and dad, not only that but her new parents were Scarlet Witch and Vision.

“Thank you Ms. Soo. Thank you.” Wanda said happily.

“No need to thank me. You’re truly shown me that you both are the perfect couple to take her in.”

So for the next couple of weeks, Wanda and Vision signed any legal papers that the orphanage would send to them, get (Y/n)’s room ready for her and buy her some new toys, clothes and get her bed all made up.

Vision was currently outside building the playground that they wanted (Y/n) to play in the backyard.  It wasn’t anything grand just the basic swing set and jointed mini-clubhouse.  But as he was reading the instructions for how to hook the swings up that’s when he heard the gossiping voices of one of the neighbors next door, Karen and Felicia.

“Have you heard about the couple next door adopting a kid?” asked Felicia.

“Yes. That poor kid, having to be adopted by a bunch of freaks.” Karen mouthed out.

“I mean Wanda’s an okay girl, but I just worry about that boyfriend of hers.”

“Like he’s a freakin machine! You’ve seen all those robot shows. What if he goes all Terminator on that poor little girl?”

“I’d feel safer if her and Wanda bailed when that robot isn’t looking.”

“Amen to that sister. Oh! Did you see the recent Housewives of Orange County….” At this point Vision stopped working and went back inside.

He phased through the wall before levitating himself up towards the master bedroom and just stood there with an array of emotions buzzing about his head. Anger, fear, hurt, heartbroken, but most of all doubt.

Was he really able to take care of a child….scratch that a human being? He was an android after all.  What hope could he possibly have of taking care of a human child? He couldn’t taste properly so there’s no way he’d be able to cook for his new daughter.  There are some human emotions that he still has trouble deciphering, so how would he know what his daughter was feeling, especially once she reached her teenage years?

“Vis?” Wanda’s voice called out to him.  He looked up and saw Wanda kneeling in front of him.  Vision soon took notice that he was now on the floor, his knees curled up close to his chest, his back up against the wall. “Are you okay?”

“Wanda I—”

“Shhh, calm down. Breathe for me.” She placed her hand to the side of his head, her fingers gently brushing against his temple and he closed his eyes taking in a few deep breaths.  “You okay now?”

“Yes. Forgive me I—don’t know what came over me.”

“You were having an anxiety attack.”

“How—how is that possible?” Vision asked.  He was an android how could he have an anxiety attack?

“I don’t know.”

“Well we’ll—we’ll worry about how that’s possible later. Do you want to tell me what it was all about?” Vision looked down with regret and he whispered softly.

“I was a fool to think I could do this.”

“What? What are you saying?”

“Me. Being a—a father. To a human child.”

“What? Vision why—why would you say something like that?”

“I’m not fully human Wanda. I mean yes I can pull the disguise but—when it all comes down to it I’m a machine. After all I was originally supposed to be Ultron’s Vision.”

“But you’re not…….”

“There could be another threat. A threat that—puts you and our……I’m sorry Wanda. I shouldn’t have even spoken up about this.”

“Hey, hey, hey, look at me. Look at me Vision.” She cupped the side of his face. Her eyes filled with concern as her brow furrowed to match the concern in her eyes. “There is nothing wrong with speaking up about something like this. I’m scared too.”

“But you’re at least human. What if I—what if I hurt her?”

“You won’t.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because I feel you. Just you. And when we played with (Y/n) just two weeks ago, I could feel just how happy you were. You will not hurt her.”

“But what if…..”

“Stop.” She held out her hand as she spoke softly.  She then moved her hand and gently with her powers, showed Vision a memory of when they first met (Y/n).

Specifically the memory of when both him and (Y/n) were playing together.  It was when she (as the superhero) had slain the reptile creature and he allowed her to climb on top of him and do a victory pose with her fake sword and shield.  After awhile that’s when he suddenly came back alive and he began to playfully tickle her.

After seeing that memory, Vision turned to Wanda and she said with a warm smile.

“That’s how I know you won’t hurt her. After just knowing her for that short 10min. of playtime. You were just like how my father was with me. Kind, caring, and a heart full of love.”

“You do realize I don’t actually have a heart right?” she arched her brow at Vision annoyed. “Right, sorry.”

“You know what I mean. What I’m trying to tell you Vis is that it doesn’t matter whether your human or machine, (Y/n) loves you for who you are, who you’re going to be to her. You’re the only father she’ll never know. And as long as you care and love her, it doesn’t matter what you look like.” Vision nodded and said to his love, tears flickering in his eyes.

“Thank you Wanda. Thank you.”

“I love you Vis. So does (Y/n). I won’t deny that we’ll probably make a million mistakes but so long as we both love her together, I know we’re doing something right.” The two of them shared a soft but loving kiss before embracing each other.

In a few days (Y/n) was soon moved into her new home and just like Wanda told him, they both loved and gave her the care she was denied from her birth parents.

Of course there were the skeptical neighbors but Vision hardly paid them any mind now, because as long as he was loved by his new daughter, that’s all that mattered to him.  

Also I won’t confirm or deny that when Wanda finally found out just who was responsible for putting doubt into Vision’s head in the first place, she may or might not have given Karen visions of her worst memories and fears, while making Felicia think she had a poltergeist in her house.

[kimmimaru]

I have been writing again. I feel kind of bad but I killed off Veld lol. So trigger warning for funerals. I’ve been to more funerals than I care to think about and writing this kind of stuff is a little too close but sometimes it’s cathartic to get it off your chest. So here’s Veld’s funeral and I’m sorry for murdering him lol. There is a character from Before Crisis called ‘the legendary turk’ but he has no name so he is nicknamed Legend. Also Vincent makes an appearance. (also hints of Veld/Vincent because I like that)

The funeral was a quiet affair. Tseng stood with Reno and Rude as someone they didn't know spoke words about a man who didn't really exist. Felicia stood close by, her husband at her side with an arm around her shoulders. Others soon appeared, coming to stand at the grave site with them, faces Tseng recognised. He reached up and tugged his tie loose, staring at the disturbed soil. He felt like he was slowly suffocating, like there were fingers around his throat. He listened to people offer their condolences to Felicia, soft whispers, as if the dead could hear them. Tseng looked up when someone approached, the scent of cigar smoke clinging to their clothes. The man had his hands in his pockets, eyes narrowed. “Not the way I thought he'd go.” He muttered, voice rough as he cast a look in Tseng's direction. Tseng managed a small smile, “Nor me.” “You're looking good. Being Chief suits you, kid.” Tseng laughed, a weird, choked sound that clogged his throat. He sucked in a breath, eyebrows contracting as he grit his teeth against the noise. “Thanks.” He said finally, swallowing. “I'm sure...there's others that would disagree.” His voice was little more than a shaky croak. The man put his hand on Tseng's shoulder, fingers rough with callouses gripping the cloth of his suit, “Don't lose it here,” He muttered, “Doesn't look good.” Tseng nodded jerkily, “Are you going to the wake?” He felt himself curl his hand into fists, the air felt much too heavy. The breeze not enough to cool his brow. He gripped a bottle in his hand, tight enough that his fingers ached. Legend pulled out a cigar from a silver case and stuck it between his teeth, “Nah, not my kinda thing.” He lit it, filling the air with its scent. The wind picked up, tugging at Tseng's hair. “Guess he's with his wife now, there's gotta be some comfort in that.” “The wife he killed.” Tseng muttered under his breath, low enough that Felicia didn't hear him. Legend shrugged, “We all got sins that're gonna tear us apart when we die.” “Tell me about it.” Tseng glanced across the grave yard to where Reno stood under a tree, Rude with him. “I gotta go. Just wanted to say good bye. You look after them,” Legend jerked his head in Reno and Rude's direction, “And yourself, kid. And remember, sometimes you can be too good at your job.” Tseng let him go, standing still as people moved around him. Tseng looked down at his hands, fingers curled around the neck of an expensive single malt whiskey. He unscrewed the cap and tipped it up, pouring it out onto the freshly dug earth. “Good bye...Chief.” Reno leaned against the tree, Rude at his side. He watched Tseng speak to Legend and looked away. “You goin' to the wake?” He asked Rude who shrugged. “Don't know.” Rude shifted, boots crushing the grass. “A disease?” He grumbled, frowning, “It's too...” “Normal.” Reno rolled his head on his neck, eyes closing as he put his hands in his pockets, “Guess that's what retirement does, yo.” “What, make you sick?” Reno snorted humourlessly, “No. Dumbass.” “Wonder how long he was sick for?” “Knowing him, a while. If he'd gotten his way we never would'a known.” Rude hummed in agreement, “You spoke to him, didn't you?” Reno shrugged, clothes rustling, “Yeah.” “What did he say?” “He...said he was sorry.” Leather creaked as Rude's fists clenched and unclenched, “I hate him.” He muttered, frowning at his own words. “Yeah.” Reno said, a little breathlessly. “But it's hard to hate a guy who raised us.” “I need...a drink.” Reno looked at Rude from beneath his eyelashes, “I'm comin' with,” Rude nodded and Reno pushed himself away from the tree, they made their way over towards Tseng, weaving through the grave stones. They reached him and Reno put a hand on Tseng's shoulder, squeezing. He shook a little and Tseng looked up at him. “C'mon, we're gettin' outta here.” Tseng nodded and together the three of them started to make their way out of the grave yard, heading towards the cars. They were stopped at the gates by someone's voice. “Where are you guys going?” “Cissnei,” Tseng tried to smile but it felt strange, “It's good to see you, although the circumstances are...less than ideal.” “Everyone's going to the bar in town,” Cissnei wrapped her arms around herself, eyes damp and red-rimmed, “Come with us.” Tseng looked away, “I...” “C'mon Chief,” Reno put a hand on his arm, fingers tugging at the sleeve of his jacket, “It's been ages since we all saw each other.” Tseng met Reno's gaze before turning back to Cissnei, “Ok.” He said and nodded, “It has been too long.” They were all about to leave when suddenly a shadow fell across the sun. Tseng's hand went for his gun, fingers curling around the handle but he froze. Standing beside Veld's fresh grave was a figure, red cape fluttering in the wind. “Valentine.” He said and let his hand fall back to his side. “Go. I'll join you in a bit.” Tseng said, glancing at Reno and Rude, they nodded. He walked towards Vincent's imposing figure. “You missed the ceremony,” He said in greeting, pausing a few feet away and folding his hands in front of him. Vincent didn't look up at him, his eyes on the grave, “I know.” He said finally. Vincent lifted his hand, Tseng couldn't see what was in it but he dropped something on top of the grave. It flashed as sunlight caught it. Vincent turned away, wrapping his cloak tighter around himself, he looked up at the sky, revealing his face. “Despite what you may think, he cared about you. I'd warn you not to become him but I wonder if I'm too late?” He looked Tseng in the eyes. “I don't think it matters at this point.” Tseng replied, swallowing. “Make your peace with your past or it's going to drown you.” Tseng looked at him, eyes narrowing a little, “He loved you, didn't he?” Vincent shrugged, “It was more complicated than that. In the end he found a woman and tried to be...normal.” “It doesn't work.” Tseng shook his head, “People like us can't be normal.” “Perhaps not,” Vincent cocked his head to the side, “But you can live, if you chose to.” “I'm breathing. I would call that living.” “That's not what I meant and you're too smart to be playing dumb.” Tseng looked away, unable to hold Vincent's piercing gaze, “I'm not sure I know how to do that.” “That is something you're going to have to figure out for yourself.” With that Tseng heard the flutter of cloth and then Vincent was gone. Tseng looked back at the grave, seeing what Vincent had dropped. He bent and picked it up out of the dirt, turning it in his hand. It was a tiny pendant shaped like a three-headed dog. Tseng returned it to the earth and then turned away, leaving the graveyard.

[storiesbyjes2g]

Genetics & Story Summary

Genetics

Even though we all know Melany looks nothing like Kameron, she doesn’t look exactly like Brytani either. Like, most of the time, I don’t feel like I’m looking at a younger Brytani. But they look so much alike I can’t tell what the differences are. Last night I decided to find out how they are different. I found Brytani in another save and aged her down. I aged Kameron down and took off his beard and skin details so we can really see him. I also took away Mel’s details even though they don’t change her much. I made a picture with them all side-by-side to compare.

How about I never really realized Melany had a dimpled chin! And, how cool is it to learn Kameron gave it to her! (I feel like she should write a song about him called Dimpled Chin lol) I’m guessing her cheeks come from him because Noemi also has high, cute chubby cheeks as well. Mel’s face seems to be a little longer than Brytani’s, also compliments of Kameron, but I knew that one already. There is something about their eyes though. I can’t really tell what it is, but they are not the same. Are Brytani’s wider or something?

As far as skin tone goes, Mel is right in the middle, a shade darker than Brytani and a shade lighter than Kameron. I still think it’s funny how EA measures what is light and dark, but we won’t get into that in this post...or maybe ever lol.

Story Summary

This may get long, so I’ll put it under the cut.

Recently I welcomed my new followers and told you about my story. I appreciate everyone who has hopped on for the ride! 😘 So many of you have joined in on this silly little legacy drama, and I don’t want anyone to be lost. I’m going to catch you up so you know who everyone is and what’s going on because I don’t expect you to go back to the beginning, although it doesn’t take very long. I did that a few months ago. It was fun!

Ok! So you’ve met Melany and her parents. Kameron started this whole thing as my guy to save Strangerville. Afterward, I figured I would continue playing with him and give him a much deserved good life. He had the world famous celebrity aspiration, so he started hanging out in DSV and rubbing shoulders with celebrities. That’s how he met Brytani Cho and thus creating our dear, sweet Melany. But, Brytani is not about that relationship life, and things fizzled after he attempted to propose to her.

It didn’t take long for her to leave. Bye Felicia.

Kameron and Melany left Strangerville for a new life in Oasis Springs. He joined the intelligence branch of the military and moved up the ranks. It was tough being a single dad, but he made it work.

Brytani was hyper-focused on her career and made very little time for Melany, and Kameron held that against her. Needless to say, their relationship was never the same, and co-parenting was no walk in the park. Melany, however, attempted to make the best of her mother’s visits, though she wished she visited more often.

Eventually Kameron moved on completely and began dating. He had a few flings and a few dates, but when he met Nadia, he was like a moth to flame.

They messed around a lot, and it didn’t take long for him to ask her to be his girlfriend. They dated for a while before he asked her to move in. He needed to see how things would work with her and Melany. It delighted Kameron to see how well they took to each other. I mean, Melany was an exceptional kid. Who wouldn’t love her? Nadia did and took her role in Kameron and Melany’s lives very seriously once she understood the family dynamics.

Nadia’s pregnancy and the engagement happened around the same time. They had a son named Nathaniel Courtney Pierson, whom they call Nate. Life was very busy with a new baby, new house, and new city (Willow Creek). Once life settled down a little, they were married in Sulani.

It should be noted that Melany began playing the violin at a young age. Kameron took her to El Selvadorada once, and it rained almost the whole time. She was going through a loud phase and picked up the violin; she loved it. She completed all 5 child aspirations which gave her a boost at learning adult skills. By the time she was a teenager, she had maxed the violin skill and had written her first song! She also started a SimTube channel. Between her two celebrity parents and the videos, she was a 4 star celebrity by her teen birthday.

Teen life for Melany was pretty average—aside from the celebrity madness. She had a group of friends she loved. She was on top of her studies and made A’s. She didn’t give her parents any trouble.The only complaint she has was with her mother. Brytani retired and came around more often, but still not often enough. By this time, Melany’s little sister, Noemi Amiah Pierson, was born, and she saw what she missed by not having two parents in the same house. Nadia was an excellent step-mother. Melany didn’t want for anything, and she loved and appreciated her. But she had a mother. Why couldn’t Brytani be like Nadia? Was something wrong with her? Did Brytani love her at all? She was secretly jealous of her young siblings, and those feelings ate away at her. She became withdrawn, cried a lot and made angry videos, but it didn’t help. Brytani was still a deadbeat mom. Melany expressed her frustrations once, but Brytani couldn’t make her feel better. She wasn’t the motherly type and thought Melany would be fine with Nadia not realizing the girl just needed her mom.

Things got slightly better in their relationship, but this would always be a thing between them. Even now, long after Brytani’s death, Melany still feels conflicted about their relationship.

The Piersons moved to Sulani. Melany aged up and went to Britechester University to study Fine Arts. She stayed in the dorms her first semester and had two roommates. That’s how she met her current best friend, Dr. Anissa Thurston. She studied biology and felt a connection with Melany immediately. Being a popular celebrity, Anissa knew everyone would be all over her and act weird. She just saw a fellow freshman nervous about being in a new place and hoping everything would be ok and made it her business to befriend Melany. Little did she know their shared Bailey Kay fandom would create a near indestructible bond.

Like any overprotective father, Kameron struggled with Melany going to college. He wanted her to stay at home for the first semester. And, as one could imagine, he was not ready for boys. Luckily, he made a friend in an elderly gentleman named Myron Churchill. He never had an older friend who could advise him from experience—a father figure. Mr. Churchill’s friendship became precious to him and helped a great deal.

Melany met Nick Wilkinson at a party. She felt uncomfortable about the outfit her friend made her wear on top of everyone looking at and whispering about her being a celebrity and all. Nick approached her and started a conversation. He made her feel better and was terribly cute. All they did was talk, but he definitely left an impression on her.

Brytani died, and Melany withdrew from school for the rest of the year. Nick called to see how she was and to express his condolences, and that’s how their friendship began. He was a huge movie buff and studying drama at Foxbury Institute to become an actor. He also was a huge nerd and avid gamer. Melany is also a gamer as Kameron was a gamer geek and raised her on video games and sci-fi. They were “friends” for a long time before he asked her out. After dancing around each other for so long, it didn’t take long for them to begin an official relationship.

They graduated, and Melany goes back home to Sulani to figure out the rest of her life. At this point she had written and licensed 7 songs and had a few small performances. She loved performing but wasn’t sure if she wanted to be a full blown artist like her idol, Bailey Kay. Also, up until this point she had only been a musician. Few know this, but Melany is also a singer. She keeps it private, but the girl is talented. Despite this talent, she never considered being a singer or writing lyrics to her songs. But sometimes she hears words in her head. They repeat themselves and won’t go away, so she began writing them down. After having this experience a few times, she felt her music life changing and needed professional advice and reached out to Bailey Kay (after much coaxing from friends and family) who gave her some wise words.

Eventually, Melany decided to live in Brytani’s mansion in Willow Creek which she inherited. The thought of living there used to give her pause, but she wanted to be closer to Nick and her friends because traveling from Sulani to San Myshuno and Del Sol Valley was getting to be too much. Besides, she was a grown woman now and needed to get on with her life. Also, she felt like she caused the problems Kameron and Nadia had briefly in their marriage. She invited Anissa to live there as her roommate because she didn’t want to live alone and wasn’t ready to have Nick move in yet. But, soon after, he approached her about the idea and she agreed it was an excellent idea.

That’s pretty much where we are now. Melany and Nick are living their best lives together. Nick is a dynamic actor and getting more popular by the day. Anissa finally got a job as a doctor and is looking forward to dating since getting over the breakup...that Melany caused. Yikes. We’ll hear from her about that soon, so I won’t steal her thunder, but I will say it almost ruined their friendship!

I hope this was helpful for the newcomers and nostalgic for the OGs. If you have questions along the way, just ask! 

[bountyofbeads]

Trump attacks local leaders as he visits two cities grieving from mass shootings

https://wapo.st/2OLb3Qr

Trump attacks local leaders as he visits two cities grieving from mass shootings

By Ashley Parker, Philip Rucker, Jenna Johnson and Felicia Sonmez | Published August 07 at 8:43 PM ET | Washington Post | Posted August 7, 2019 9:50 PM |

EL PASO — On a day when President Trump vowed to tone down his rhetoric and help the country heal following two mass slayings, he did the opposite — lacing his visits Wednesday to El Paso and Dayton, Ohio, with a flurry of attacks on local leaders and memorializing his trips with grinning thumbs-up photos.

A traditional role for presidents has been to offer comfort and solace to all Americans at times of national tragedy, but the day provided a fresh testament to Trump’s limitations in striking notes of unity and empathy.

When Trump swooped into the grieving border city of El Paso to offer condolences following the massacre of Latinos allegedly by a white supremacist, some of the city’s elected leaders and thousands of its citizens declared the president unwelcome.

In his only public remarks during the trip, Trump lashed out at Sen. Sherrod Brown of Ohio and Dayton Mayor Nan Whaley, both Democrats, over their characterization of his visit with hospital patients in Dayton.

“We had an amazing day,” Trump said in El Paso as he concluded his visit. “As you know, we left Ohio. The love, the respect for the office of the presidency.”

Trump also praised El Paso police officers and other first responders and shook their hands, telling one female officer, “I saw you on television the other day and you were fantastic.”

El Paso and Dayton were not merely the latest in the multiplying series of American mass shootings. The carnage in El Paso is being investigated as an act of domestic terrorism, with parallels between a racist manifesto posted minutes before the shooting and the president’s own anti-immigration rhetoric.

This has thrust Trump into the center of a roiling political and societal debate, with some Democratic leaders saying the president has emboldened white supremacy and is a threat to the nation.

Former vice president Joe Biden, who is running to unseat Trump in 2020, said in a speech Wednesday, “We have a president with a toxic tongue who has publicly and unapologetically embraced a political strategy of hate, racism and division.”

Both in Dayton and El Paso, Trump kept almost entirely out of public view, a marked break with tradition, as presidents visiting grieving communities typically offer public condolences.

Trump avoided the Oregon district where the shooting in Dayton took place, and just a short drive from Miami Valley Hospital, which he did visit. Whaley said he would not have been welcome in the Oregon District, where scores of demonstrators congregated, holding anti-Trump signs and chanting, “Do something!” a call for stricter gun laws.

Brown and Whaley described the visit by the president and first lady Melania Trump in favorable terms.

“They were hurting. He was comforting. He did the right things. Melania did the right things,” Brown told reporters. “And it’s his job in part to comfort people. I’m glad he did it in those hospital rooms.”

Whaley added: “I think the victims and the first responders were grateful that the president of the United States came to Dayton.”

Both Brown and Whaley, however, were also sharply critical of Trump’s divisive rhetoric and Republican resistance to gun-control legislation.

Whaley later responded to Trump’s comments about her and Brown by calling him “a bully and a coward.” She said on CNN, “It’s fine that he wants to bully me and Senator Brown. We’re okay. We can take it.”

The traveling press corps was not allowed to observe Trump’s visit with three victims who remained hospitalized. It fell therefore to White House aide Dan Scavino to proclaim in a tweet that Trump “was treated like a Rock Star inside the hospital.”

Trump and the first lady also met with police officers, fire officials, trauma surgeons and nurses at the facility, which treated 23 victims of the shooting. The hospital invited victims who had already been released to come back and meet with the president and first lady.

“It was an authentic visit,” hospital president Mike Uhl said, praising Trump as “attentive, present and extremely accommodating.”

Trump offered his own affirmation on Twitter: “It was a warm & wonderful visit. Tremendous enthusiasm & even Love.”

White House press secretary Stephanie Grisham said journalists were kept out of the hospital visit because staff did not want it to devolve into “a photo op” and overwhelm the victims with media.

The White House, however, distributed its own photos of Trump smiling for pictures with first responders, along with a slickly produced video, helping make the president the center of attention.

Trump’s reception in El Paso was less hospitable, and not only because so many local leaders have said they believe his rhetoric inspired Saturday’s slayings at a shopping center near the U.S.-Mexico border. Although he won the state of Texas in the 2016 election, Trump captured just 25.7 percent of the vote in El Paso County, the worst performance recorded here by a major-party presidential candidate in at least two decades.

An ever-growing makeshift memorial has sprouted near the shooting scene that features piles of colorful flowers, a row of white crosses, a line of prayer candles, as well as messages to the president. “Mr. T, Respect our sorrow and grief. Do not ‘invade’ our city,” reads one note, a reference to Trump’s repeated warnings of a migrant “invasion” at the border.

Just before Trump arrived in El Paso — where he and the first lady met with first victims and their families at University Medical Center and with law enforcement personnel at an emergency operations center — several hundred people gathered in opposition to his visit.

Congregating under the hot midday sun in a baseball field for an “El Paso Strong” event, some held homemade signs. “Go home! You are NOT welcome here!” read one. “This was Trump-inspired terrorism,” read another. “Trump repent,” read a third.

At one point, the crowd chanted, “Send him back!” — a nod to the incendiary “Send her back!” chant about Somali-born Rep. Ilhan Omar (D-Minn.) at one of Trump’s campaign rallies last month.

“We feel like right now we should be in mourning, and we feel like we should be collecting our thoughts, we should be doing vigils and we should be gathering together as a community. We believe it is an insult that the president is coming here,” said one of the organizers, Jaime Candelaria, a 37-year-old singer and songwriter.

Rep. Veronica Escobar (D-Tex.) said onstage, “In this moment, someone is visiting … I felt it was important that we come together and not focus on the visitor, but focus on El Paso.” She added, “We will not stop resisting the hate! Resisting the bigotry! Resisting the racism!”

In the crowd at the El Paso Strong event was Shawn Nixon, 20, a Walmart employee who was at work restocking the school supplies area when the gunman opened fire Saturday morning. At the sound of the shots, Nixon said he fell to the ground, pulling with him a young child who had been shopping with his mother.

“All I’m just asking for Donald Trump, for the president, to do is to say ‘sorry,’ ” Nixon said. “He created this crime. He created it because of his words. Every time that he’s on TV, that’s what he’s doing.”

During his flight home from El Paso, Trump attacked Rep. Joaquin Castro (D-Tex.), the twin brother of presidential candidate Julián Castro, tweeting that he “makes a fool of himself every time he opens his mouth.” The congressman has come under scrutiny for publicizing a list of San Antonio donors who have contributed to Trump and accusing them for “fueling a campaign of hate.”

On Saturday in El Paso, authorities said, a man opened fire inside a Walmart, killing 22 people and injuring 26 others. At 1:05 a.m. Sunday, a gunman killed nine people and injured 27 others outside a bar in Dayton, police said.

All week, Trump has zigzagged between two competing instincts: Unite and divide.

In the immediate aftermath of the shootings, Trump remained cloistered at his golf club in Bedminster, N.J., issuing only short statements on Twitter. Back at the White House on Monday, the president delivered a scripted speech in which he preached harmony.

“Now is the time to set destructive partisanship aside — so destructive — and find the courage to answer hatred with unity, devotion and love,” Trump said, reading from Teleprompters.

The president did not heed his own advice, however. Late Tuesday night, he took to Twitter to attack Beto O’Rourke, the former El Paso congressman running for president who has said Trump bears some responsibility for the shooting there because of his demonization of Latino immigrants.

Trump tweeted: “Beto (phony name to indicate Hispanic heritage) O’Rourke, who is embarrassed by my last visit to the Great State of Texas, where I trounced him, and is now even more embarrassed by polling at 1% in the Democrat Primary, should respect the victims & law enforcement — & be quiet!”

Then, as he departed the White House on Wednesday morning en route to Ohio, Trump told reporters he would refrain from attacking his adversaries during the trip.

“I would like to stay out of the political fray,” the president said. Asked about his rhetoric, he said he thinks it “brings people together” and added, “I think we have toned it down.”

That detente lasted only a few minutes. Answering a reporter’s question about Biden, Trump pounced. “Joe is a pretty incompetent guy,” the president said. “Joe Biden has truly lost his fastball, that I can tell you.”

By the time the president had left Dayton, he was back on Twitter and sniping at Democrats, a tirade triggered by his consumption of cable television news aboard Air Force One.

“Watching Sleepy Joe Biden making a speech. Sooo Boring! The LameStream Media will die in the ratings and clicks with this guy,” the president wrote.

Then he lashed out at Brown and Whaley, falsely accusing them of “totally misrepresenting” the reception he received at Miami Valley Hospital. He alleged that their news conference immediately after the president’s visit “was a fraud.”

But neither Brown nor Whaley said Trump received a poor reception at the hospital.

When Whaley first saw Trump’s tweets criticizing her and Brown, she paused for a moment to read them on a cellphone and said, “I don’t — I mean, I’m really confused. We said he was treated, like, very well. So, I don’t know why they’re talking about ‘misrepresenting.’ ”

“Oh, well, you know,” the mayor added with a shrug. “He lives in his world of Twitter.”

Parker and Johnson reported from El Paso, and Rucker and Sonmez reported from Washington. Arelis R. Hernández in Dayton and Colby Itkowitz and John Wagner in Washington contributed to this report.

[super-arianna-blr]

Possible Comebacks to Annoying Situations

1. *Hand them a piece of paper that says “MY Condolences”* That’s for your mother, I’m sorry she had your dumbass.

2. I was gonna say with your bitch last night, but you don’t even have enough game for anyone to steal from.

3. Yeah with my girlfriend, that is a girl that wait for it likes you and doesn't file a restraining order against your creeper ass

4. All this knowledge *gesture to a phone or your campus* and you still ignorant as fuck.

5. 7 billion people in the world and I had to interact with you 

6. I always wondered what meeting the scarecrow from The Wizard of Oz would be like ... it’s underwhelming 

7. Calm down Felicia, your wig will fall off

 I needed to get this off my chest, people are annoying and when you work in food service shit hits the fan when people feel entitled to THE BEST SERVICE EVER!! this is a good stress reliver tbh, everyone should try it and comment back cuz it’d be funny.

Anyway, to be continued cuz I’m binge watching anime and I lost my train of thought.

[kansascityhappenings]

Hollywood pays tribute to Luke Perry: ‘My heart is broken.’

https://embed-prod.vemba.io/vemba-embed.js

With a career that took off in a famous zip code and was bookended all too soon in a town called Riverdale, Luke Perry had an acting career that spanned decades and touched multiple generations of television viewers.

His reach can be seen in the breadth of peers and colleagues who are remembering Perry upon news of his death at age 52.

Perry died Monday after suffering what his publicist said was “a massive stroke.”

From his “Beverly Hills 90210” co-stars to those who worked with him on CW’s “Riverdale,” Perry is being remembered as a guy as seemingly cool as the character who made him famous.

Gabrielle Carteris

“I am absolutely heartbroken. Luke was a tremendous force in the lives of so many. He was a very sensitive soul who was kind, generous and he fought for the underdog. He was a strong voice and an advocate who will be so missed by all who knew him. He has left his mark — never to be forgotten. My heart goes out to his family, friends and fans around the globe.” – statement to CNN

Ian Ziering

“Dearest Luke, I will forever bask in the loving memories we’ve shared over the last thirty years. May your journey forward be enriched by the magnificent souls who have passed before you, just like you have done here, for those you leave behind.”

Molly Ringwald

“My heart is broken. I will miss you so much Luke Perry. Sending all my love to your family.

#LukePerry”

Joss Whedon

“The first time I met Luke Perry we talked about what kind of movie we wanted “Buffy” to be. I asked if he’d ever seen “Near Dark” and he gave me a look of HOW DARE YOU SIR and I knew we’d get along. Funny, committed, and always gracious. He shouldn’t be gone.”

Scott Foley

“Luke Perry was humble and kind every time we crossed paths. I’m so sorry to hear of his passing.”

Christine Elise McCarthy

“With the heaviest of hearts, I am devastated to@tell you we lost Luke. I am still in shock and I have no words beyond saying he was a truly kind gentleman. He will be mourned and missed by everyone who know him and the millions who love him.

RIP, dearie Luke. Your time here was far too short.”

Emma Caufield Ford

“Oh God. I’m heart sick. I love you Luke. You were an angel and a friend to me. Loss for words. #LukePerry”

Josh Gad

“Heartbreaking. Absolutely hearbreaking. RIP #LukePerry.”

Marlee Matlin

“So shocking so young! RIP sweet Luke. My love goes out to your family and friends.”

Michael Chiklis

“Luke Perry gone too soon. Rest in peace man.”

David Boreanaz

“RIP Luke Perry.”

Jon Cryer

“Luke Perry was a character actor in the body of a heartthrob. Much respect.”

Alison Sweeney

“My heart goes out to his friends and family. Such a tragic loss.”

Felicia Day

“I’m so sad about Luke Perry he was such a kind person. Enthusiastic and encouraging to everyone around him.

#RIP”

Carson Daly

“IN SHOCK. DEAR GOD… ”

Rosanna Arquette

“Dear Luke ..love love and my heart is so sad I’m sending love to your family and Alexis is waiting for you, you will laugh and dance God bless you”

William Shatner

“Condolences to the family of Luke Perry. ”

Charlie Sheen

“…i am truly honored to have known you all of these years.”

Stephen Baldwin

“Rare to have friends who innately have the heart of giving, Luke was one of those people. Prayers up to family & Luke will smile in heaven when he reads this bcuz he has done ultimate “cowboy up” to his final resting place in the glory of Heaven.”

Austin Nichols

“I can’t believe it. No words. Sending you and your family all the love I got! You were so kind and generous. You taught me a lot.”

from FOX 4 Kansas City WDAF-TV | News, Weather, Sports https://fox4kc.com/2019/03/04/hollywood-pays-tribute-to-luke-perry-my-heart-is-broken/

from Kansas City Happenings https://kansascityhappenings.wordpress.com/2019/03/04/hollywood-pays-tribute-to-luke-perry-my-heart-is-broken/

[jeichanhaka]

And Carried Me Away: Ch. 12

Chapter 1|| Chapter 2|| Chapter 3|| Chapter 4|| Chapter 5|| Chapter 6||

Chapter 7|| Chapter 8|| Chapter 9|| Chapter 10|| Chapter 11|| Chapter 12||

Chapter 13|| Chapter 14|| Chapter 15||

Chapter 12:

“James, that’s all right.” Hotch interrupted after silently glancing at William, reading the man’s discomfort in his face and body language.

Not that he needed to, to understand. If he was in William’s position, hearing such things about his daughter he would act the same. Even if it wasn’t from a convicted rapist. Though, Hotch noted uneasily, that though what James had said could easily have been a lie to inflame William, James hadn’t shown any hints of deception. The thirty-six year old hadn’t said those things simple to mess with either of them.

“We don’t need to talk anymore about Alsie’s and yours relationship. I just need to know if there are any other potential targets this unsub we’re tracking could have. He’s going after the women you assaulted.” Hotch elucidated, leading the conversation away from the rant James had gone into. “I especially want to know if you know a woman by the name of Olivia Sutters. She was killed by this unsub, same as the three women you mentioned earlier.”

“All of them…?” James shook his head slowly in a no gesture, though this expressed more disbelief rather than emotion. “Sutters? Sutters…Olivia.” He mumbled the name repeatedly, considering it. It wasn’t a name he recognized - definitely not one of his victims - yet it felt familiar. Like he’d seem it before, the family name at least.

-“Hey! KJ, lookie at what I found.” A sandy blond haired boy held up his hand and motioned for him. “It was in Somerfield’s study.”

“…I’m trying to sleep, go away.” James hissed, rolling over in bed and covering his head with his blanket. He listened for the other boy’s footsteps, to know when he’d gone. He grumbled when the steps stopped just at the room door.

“Fine. I’ll just turn the light off and…”

“No!” James shot up, his heart pounding in his thirteen year old chest. His eyes wide, he stared at the other boy terrified of the fingers nearing the light switch. The darkness and its threat terrified him. “I’ll look at it, all right?”

“I knew you would.” The other boy grinned, relishing in seeing James sit up in bed, waiting. The grin grew wider when James realized that the boy wasn’t going to come to him, but was going to force James out of bed. He watched James mumble a few swears before leaving the bed and approaching.

“What is it, anyway?” James asked, grimacing when the boy held out a pile of newspaper clippings. He took them while grumbling about how old they looked - if the boy wanted to look through articles, couldn’t they be recent? Or hell, have it be from an adult mag and actually be the full issue. Seriously, that would be worth a gander.

“Articles about murder. Serial murder.” The boy grinned, thrilled by his gruesome discovery. “And local at that. Apparently there was a bunch of women attacked and killed in the area over ten years ago. Their eyes were mutilated and…”

James glanced over the articles, becoming interested in them the more the other boy blathered on, his excitement catching. -

x

“…James?” Hotch stared at the younger man, curious and concerned when James seemed to zone out.

“Um?” James rubbed his chin and lips, delving on his recollection. His gaze shot up at Hotch, the man repeating his name.

“Do you know Olivia Sutters? Have you…”

James shook his head, thinking and staring at the other man though his brain was focused on his memory. “…there were newspaper articles. Bryce, another boy at the institute took them from Somerfield’s study. One mentioned that name - Sutters. Felicia Sutters. A young mother, raped and killed.”

“An article? James, when did you see…”

“I was thirteen. That article was from the late seventies. There were others from around the same time and some from the eighties. Somerfield had a lot of them, all about similar crimes. Like a collection.” James chewed on his lip, and rubbed his hands together. His eyebrows scrunched up as he thought of the name hand written in the book the unknown inmate had given him. “…one of the articles mentioned the FBI. Said an agent was looking into an abduction of a woman like the victims in the other articles.”

Hotch’s interest piqued at James’ mumbling, and he temporarily set aside asking about Olivia Sutters or the other woman the other man mentioned, Felicia Sutters. If Somerfield had had an article about the FBI, perhaps it could shed light on Somerfield’s reason for taking Rossi’s son. “James, the FBI agent mentioned by the article, was it Ros…”

“No.” James shook his head, his chestnut eyes catching Hotch’s. His brow creased in thought, before he continued. “Gideon.”

“What?” Hotch asked, surprise flashing in his eyes. He glared at James closely, determined to know if the other man was telling the truth or not. The younger man seemed oblivious to the older’s reaction, being too focused on his thoughts.

“The agent mentioned in the article, the one looking into the abduction…” James paused, confused by Hotch’s reaction once he noticed it. “…was called Gideon.”

0Local Precinct:

Cam grimaced, arms folded as she watched Catherine Joyce leave. Midway through their questioning, the woman had clammed up and refused to answer anything further. It irked her, especially when she noticed signs that the woman was hiding something. That there was something either about the possible unsub or Melissa that Catherine refused to say.

“Fitzgerald.” Tara said, standing in front of the younger agent.

“…she’s hiding something.”

“I know. I’ve already called Garcia to ask if she can find out what it could be. Maybe there’s something on the restaurant’s security tape we missed.” Tara replied, her own arms crossed as she thought about the surveillance camera. The booth where the Joyces had been sitting, had been just out of view of that camera. Same with the camera at the back door.

“That server…he’s probably the unsub. Or one of the other employees is.” Cam said, slowly dropping her arms. “Someone who knew there was a blind-spot the cameras couldn’t catch or who could change the position of the cameras undetected.”

“It could be a regular customer. Or the owner. Or maybe the unsub just got lucky.” Tara replied, though she didn’t find the latter supposition likely. “We should see if the others have found anything.”

Cam nodded. Before either could say anything further, the police detective in charge of the local investigation approached. Behind him was an older woman, with graying burgundy hair wrapped in a weathered scarf and a matching outfit.

“Agents? This is Olivia Sutter’s aunt, Patricia Mae Mathers. She identified the body.” The police detective spoke, his posture formal while his vocal tone betrayed just how uncomfortable he was. It was clear he either had never handled dealing with the next of kin in a murder investigation before or he was still getting used to it.

“Mrs. Mathers, I’m so sorry for…” Tara spoke, only for her offer of condolence to be interrupted.

“I know who did it.” Patricia Mae blurted, her tone assertive and without any hesitance. “And the bastard will not get away with it. Not this time.”

“Mrs. Mathers, you know who killed your niece?” Tara’s eyes widened slightly, though she studied the woman closely. It was more probable that the woman only thought she knew who it was, rather than actually knowing. There was, of course, the possibility that this woman would repeat what some of the media was saying - that it was James.

“I sure do. The same bastard who did what he did to her mother.” The woman replied, her tone hateful but it was tempered by the life-weary gleam in her eyes. It was obvious she’d gone through much that’d left its mark.

“Her mother?” Cam asked, folding her arms loosely across her chest, a sliver of confusion in her tone. Her heterochromatic eyes narrowed slightly, and she glanced at Tara briefly before shifting back to Patricia. “…Didn’t her mother die thirty-seven years ago? It was in the file Garcia assembled when trying to find a connection to the other victims.”

“Yes. And the monster went after Olivia because he couldn’t have my sister.” Patricia replied, her posture rigid - almost haughty - and her tone self-certain. Her words were spoken with such conviction that neither agent believed her to be fabricating, at the very least the woman believed her own words.

Yet it baffled them. This unsub was copying James’ crimes, attacking James’ victims.

“Mrs. Mathers, I…”

“Here. Read this.” The woman interrupted Tara, thrusting a newspaper article at the agent. It was yellowed with age and wrinkled slightly, with a bit of wear around the edges. Patricia Mathers had obviously kept it for some time. “This’ll prove I’m right.”

Tara took the proffered paper, and glanced at the headline from politeness and curiosity. Her eyes widened as she read it and continued through the first few paragraphs. Noticing Tara’s surprise, Cam read the article too, her lips parting slightly. She blinked, and then furrowed her brow before rereading it aloud.

“‘A local young mother assaulted…left for dead…her eyes gouged and…” Cam mumbled, thrown and intrigued by the similarities of that case to James’ crimes. Yet neither rape nor enucleation themselves were unique to any one unsub.

Tara, however, stared at one line in particular. A line that the younger agent could be forgiven not to have caught, not being part of the original investigation into James. ’…the unsub bleached his victims eye-sockets after enucleating them precisely with a scalpel.’

Tara took in a breath before ushering Patricia Mathers towards a more private room, and mentioning that they’ll be right with her to take her statement and ask questions.

“Lewis? What…?” Cam started to say, understanding that she’d missed something, something the older agent hadn’t.

“It’s the exact same M.O., Fitzgerald” Tara replied, handing the article to Cam. “Exactly the same as James’.”

“What? But that’s impossible, James wasn’t even born when this victim was assaulted and murdered. It’s…” Cam paused, confused even as she digested the information. “Does this mean that James himself chose to copycat another unsub’s crimes? How? Garcia would’ve found this case if it was in a database, yet…how could James have known about a case from before he was born?”

“…I don’t know. But…” Tara answered, glowering at the article. “I bet there’s someone who does. And he’s currently sitting in prison on felony child trafficking and illegal experimentation charges.”

“…Morland Somerfield.” Cam seethed, taking just a moment to realize who Tara meant. Crossing her arms, she narrowed her eyes and clenched her jaw.

0End of Chapter.

A/N: Damn, I already made it to chapter twelve and it’s still technically the first case of this fic (not counting Cam’s mom), but I guess it’s not surprising since I filled each chapter with so much non-case yet plot centered stuff. Which has to do with me not actually having created a character identity for the unsub when I started this case, now I have a basic idea.

[lethe-distillery-blog]

Exodus

"You're drunk! I can't believe what a disappointment you are!"

 His sharp tongue cut through the numbing stupor of the alcohol and lacerated fresh wounds on a bleeding heart that I wished would just give up and die already. It wasn't exactly like there was any tender feelings lost between us. He hated my guts. I had established that fact early on in what constituted my nightmare called life. I wanted to lash back, to find some way that hurt him with just as much apathy as he showed me, to be so cruel, so filled with rage.

 Besides, he really wasn't angry that I was drunk. That was a convenient excuse. Something about my character that he could hold onto, a moral high ground as it were, a selfless reason to lash out at me. But I wasn't the naive child anymore to believe what was said anymore. Love was a temperamental thing, held like a treat for dreamers and morons. Something to be taken away at the slightest infraction, the barest of disappointments, and it would be withdrawn. I wanted to be angry. But honestly, I was just tired. I looked up at him, alcohol loosening my iron clad control the slightest of amounts. "So is that why you've been trying to kill me off with your words all my life? Because you couldn't convince mom to have an abortion and you didn't want to be a father?" The truth felt like ice on my tongue, a cold bitter thing I'd never been allowed to dilute with childhood whimsy of something else. Mother had never allowed me anything else, to her, I was the reason that Jake had left; to Jake, I was a tie to a past he didn't want to remember but was forced to live with.

 For the first eighteen years of my life I had stayed with my mother, part of me, looking back at it, wished that Felicia had just abandoned me to foster or adoption care. While it could have certainly gone worse for me there it also meant that I might have had a family that wanted me. "If that's the case," Jake's voice was rasping as he fought to not yell at three o'clock in the morning and wake everyone else in the house awake, "why aren't you dead yet?"

 I eyed Jake, the knowledge that he meant that hurt more than it should have. My sperm donor had never hid his distaste of me, the only memory I had of him visiting me was when I was five. He had come to visit my mother and I, I had been so excited I hadn't been able to sit still at school. I had drawn him a picture and Mrs. Kelly had me write out I love you Daddy, on it. It was the only time Felicia had actually acted like a mother. I had gotten a brand new winter coat, and mittens that looked like lions where when you opened and closed your hand the mouth moved. I had named them Optimus and Tigger, even though it was a lion and not a tiger. We had gone to McDonald's and Felicity had bought me a grilled cheese. I had been in the play area when she had called me down. And there, standing in a black suit, had been Jake.

 I had been so excited I shook as I ran over to our table and picked up my drawing, of my Daddy and Mommy and me all holding hands. But as I turned to hand it to him he stepped back. Disgust clearly evident on his face as he looked at me, leaving me there, holding my picture for him, as he turned and yelled at my mother, asking her how in the world she could keep something so deformed, so hideous. Felicia had smacked me when I started to cry and told me to shut up. It was that day, that I became an orphan.

 There was a knock at my hotel room door as I opened my mouth to tell him that I was alive out of sheer spite. Jake stormed over to it in a right peak, I lay back, flopping onto the bed and closing my eyes. Why the hell had I opened my hotel door? Right. Because some childhood fantasy had hoped beyond hope that my own Father had come to offer some sort of condolences. The door opened and there was a fervently whispered conversation that my drunk mind couldn't keep up with. "This is Cain." I opened my left eye at the sound of my name on a disguised breath. "The least you could do is get up and pretend that you have manners.' Compared do what had just been said previously the comment didn't even phase me.

 There, beside my sperm donor stood an attractive woman that I guessed to be in her mid forties. Her dark hair had strands of silver that reflected in the harsh glow of the hotel lamps about the room. Her green eyes were a deep forest color and seemed to be slightly too big for her face. She had a nose that a writer would consider as petite and cute with lips that sagged just a little in a becoming pouty look that most attempted with lipstick or surgery. I hated her. "Hello Cain, I'm sorry that we have to meet over these circumstances." I nodded my head once and then had to close my eyes to stop the spinning room from making me vomit on her shoes tempting as the thought was considering.

 There was another vicious round of whispering that made my head buzz with the beginnings of a headache. I wanted to lash out, to tell them to fuck off and leave me alone but I was too tired. The rum finally catching up with me, my limbs felt encased in lead, my eyes felt gritty and my head stuffed full of cotton. My thoughts felt fuzzy and slow, as though they too were weighed down. I heard my name off somewhere but I was too tired to care, my mind twisting memories around in a kaleidoscope of times and people I heard my name again, harsh and angry. Jake. Fuck him. And finally, everything went black and I was left in peace.

 I came back into reality slowly, lying there for a long moment in the comfortable fog of unreality, pleasantly apathetic to the universe at large and most importantly, my place in it. All too soon however, memories started piecing themselves together. The body. The funeral. The bar. The fight. Jake in my room. The words he had said. Meeting Aurora. I flinched at the last few memories, the pain coming back, fresh and new, overlaying the wounds of last night with the fresh clarity that sobriety brings. I hissed as I turned, my head throbbing viciously, at least it was distracting. I bumped the nightstand as I struggled to get vertical still a touch drunk from the night before. I wasn't really surprised. I had drank enough that if I wasn't an alcoholic it likely would have killed me. Shame that. I'd have to try harder next time. A thud sounded like a cannon blast between my temples and I groaned inwardly, knowing already that if I made a sound I would regret it. I opened my eyes to bare slits through the dusky light of dawn and saw a piece of paper, a couple pills, and a bottle of water with the fluid still sloshing back and forth. Without even thinking much I took the pills and crunched them down, the familiar taste of Advil getting washed down with a gulp of water. After a few minutes, when the room felt like it wasn't spinning as fast, I trusted myself to sip at the bottle though I had closed my eyes again.

 Taking inventory I frowned. I hadn't undressed at all from coming home from the King George Pub. But I wasn't wearing my boots now, and the covers were wrapped around me. Barely opening my eyes again I noticed that all the lights were off too, and that the shades were drawn. I shook my head and immediately regretted that stupidity as it felt like my brain sloshed back and forth and slammed into the sides of my skull. I sat perfectly still and panted, my mouth watering as my stomach churned. I would not vomit. I would not. The nausea spell only abated when I lay back down and relaxed, doing my best to not think about anything. Which was impossible. So instead, I focused on my sensations. The soft roughness of the hotel sheets, the cool air in the room, the brightening light pressing against my eyelids from the sun rising. And finally, I drifted back off.

 I felt human when I woke again a couple hours later. It was twenty to twelve, I had to get moving soon, though if I left now I was concerned I would lose the trust of the blankets after they had accepted me as one of their own. I had gotten so little sleep over the last week that even this alcohol induced slumber had been welcoming. I rose slowly, testing myself as I went, making sure I didn't feel another wave of nausea. Thankfully, I was just set with a headache from hell, though I wasn't sure if that was from the blow to the jaw, the chair, or the alcohol at this point. I glanced ruefully at the empty water bottle and noticed the small hotel notepad again. I didn’t recognize the flowing cursive that formed beautiful swirls and designs as it made individual letters and words. “Take these when you wake up. I put a couple more bottles of water in the fridge.” I glanced to the small humming appliance in question. “It’ll help you feel better. Again. It was a pleasure to meet you finally. Aurora.” I felt fury flash through me, white hot and feral I picked up the empty water bottle and through it as hard as I could against the wall with a clatter of plastic as it bounced down and across the desk. The sound was sharp and staccato in my ears but I welcomed the pain of it. I was breathing hard. Hurt, and angry. Mostly hurt.

 I was no longer a child. I no longer looked for someone to help me feel like someone wanted me. That I wasn’t so bad. That, maybe, I could even be loved. I was no longer a naive little boy searching for something that would never be given to him. I was alone. I had always been alone. That never changed; in fact, I now preferred it that way. I didn’t want anyone. I didn’t need anyone. I got up to go take a shower, stubbornly ignoring the water, even though the rational part of me knew that Aurora was right and it would help me feel more human. Still though, I loathed the idea of someone thinking me of helpless, as pathetic. I could, and did, do fine on my own. I stripped off my clothes as I walked. I could do this. On my own.

 Two hours later I sat in the church, the piano music dancing through my brain like broken glass shards. I almost regretted not drinking the water. Almost. I sat at the back, not bothering to interact with others there. They were there for my father. The picture perfect visage of a grieving man for a life he had once lived, the picture perfect family man. It sickened me more than my headache. I watched him, and if looks could kill, he would join Felicia six feet under. He had never once done anything for us, and yet here he was, basking in all the free publicity that built up a reputation. His political scene was perfectly sculpted, carefully curated to show the very best things that a man could be. Doting. Sympathetic. Kind. So full of bullshit I could smell it from back here. He sat near the front, with Aurora, and their three girls who Aurora had introduced me to as if I should care about my half sisters. Natalie, eighteen, just finished high school and was going off to Kinesiology on some volleyball degree. Ember, twenty-one, who was working on a Social Degree in a Youth Center, and Hannah, twenty four, three years my junior, had just passed her BAR exam. I hated her the most, full and concrete proof that Jake had never intended to reenter our lives twenty two years ago. I had wanted to lash out at her, even after the night before, but I couldn’t not here. Still, I stewed. Watching them. The picture perfect family. I wanted to cause a scene, to call him out, here, in front of everyone and tell them the truth of him. But who would believe me? The estranged son of an overdosed crack addict, at her funeral no less. And it was childish. Some urge to have him notice me, to at least acknowledge my presence in front of other people, even if it was just to yell at me.

 I had forgotten how annoying it was to wear the damned contact, I rubbed at my eye trying to get the gritty feeling to abate; I had gotten used to not wearing it and fucked if I knew why I was wearing it now. Felicia had forced me from the unfortunate day Jake had reentered our lives so briefly to wear sunglasses any time I was around others, or her, until she had finally got these blasted contacts for me to wear. I flinched again, at past remarks that made Jake’s delightful commentary last night look like the sweetest of compliments. The only time I had a modicum of peace was when she was high, her ‘happy pills’ made life tolerable, she even was nice to me sometimes. But it never lasted. Soon enough, she would come down, and I would again be told how much she wished she had followed through with what Jake had asked and aborted me. Ah, the lovely stories that would give me comfort to sleep at night. Only once, when she was high on something that was all kinds of illegal, did she try and kill me. No one would ever know that story, the way she looked at me when she told me that Jake would finally take her back now. The scar on my ribs still ached in the cold.

 I stood over the casket, the whole sermon had droned on into a monotonous drone of sound, and here, now, I was saying goodbye to the only constant thing I had had in my life. It was a strange feeling, this chapter closing on my life. Even though Felicia had taught me nothing that a proper parent should, she had still clothed and fed me, even if it was barely. The call from the police had startled me, I’m not sure why. Did I expect Felicia to live forever? Cheating death as she got high on who knows what she had scrounged enough money together to buy. I had to give the morticians credit, as I looked over her. She looked like she could have been my mother, someone must have donated the dress, it didn’t look like anything I recognized, the makeup had been expertly applied with a style that made it look as though she weren’t wearing any at all. The sores had been covered, her hair had been washed, and she finally, after all this time, looked to be at peace. I hoped she was. Jake had ruined her by leaving, and I had hoped that next time around, she could be loved like she deserved, and maybe she could love her child too.

 I twitched as I felt a weight on my shoulder and I looked over to see Jake there. The image of my fist going through his face was so vivid it took a half second as I struggled to separate reality from a desire so strong that I could already feel it. The crunch of bone beneath my knuckles, the whimper of pain, the hot gush of blood, the satisfaction. I glanced between us to his family. His only family. I wasn’t part of it, never had been never would be, I was simply a stranger that was going to fade away into collective memory, and then, likely even from that too. I wasn’t stupid. I knew my place. I wondered if his precious family knew why he was really here. How the lawyers had called him over things that he had purchased over twenty years ago and now he was here, to take every single one of those things away, so that nothing of him, no part of his existence that had spawned me could be traced back to him. He had even found a way to get a police search of my own house even though I had left Felicia when I was sixteen with nothing but the shirt on my back to make sure nothing was there either. There was a part of me that wanted to expose him, to shout to the world what he was doing, what he had done. But again. Who would listen to me? Pissed, and hurt, I brushed by him to go back to my corner but under all the surging memories, the pain, and the white hot fury I heard a soft growl, a command, as if he expected to hold some authority in my life after all this time. “Behave boy.” I left.

 It had been three weeks since Felicia had been buried. I had taken the proffered week of bereavement but had only needed three days to wrap up her estate. Whatever Jake didn’t decide to take I had settled to donate to a few shelters around her area that helped battered women and children. They needed it all more than I did anyways. After that, I had gone for a drive. There really hadn’t been a destination in mind when I had headed out but I knew that anywhere was better than being stuck at home for four days without working and going out of my mind in my indignant rage at Jake. Funny. He had never once been in my life, and I could honestly say I didn’t know the last time I had thought about him as an individual and yet he expected to swoop in, do what he wanted, and leave. Just like he always did. Fuck that. Bermuda and I had gone out,between her and sleeping under the stars it had helped me forget. I didn’t know what it was but there was something about the purr that teetered on the cusp of a growl that came from a high performance engine that could make everything that little bit better. Besides, it had been a long winter and I missed taking the old girl out for a spin, even though it was still a bit muddy, I had decided that I had wanted her company more than Ralph, my old clunker of a winter car. It was on the last day that the text had come through, and now, as I drove home after another long day at work, I read it again.

 “Cain.” I could practically hear it in her voice, but the urge to throw the device out the window had abated over time. “I know you likely don’t want to talk to me, we don’t know each other. But I think that could be handy. A fresh starting point. Nothing to lose, but maybe something to gain. It took me awhile to track down your number, I knew better than to ask your father for it.” The woman had at least some common sense. “I would like to get to know you. But if you don’t I do understand and don’t blame you. I’m not asking for you to make amends with Jake. I’m doing this on my own, because I know what it’s like to grow up without a father. If you would like to get back in touch, I’ll be here. Aurora.”

 It had taken me a long while to figure out why I hated her so much, to distance myself from the childhood rage that wanted to hate everything to do with my father. I hated Aurora because she was kind. I hated her because I didn’t want to like her. She was innocent in this, more innocent than me likely, and while logically I knew that, it didn’t take the pain away. And yet, I had tortured myself several times a day looking at that damned message. It was a hand, reaching through the murk, the grey shadows of my existence and offered a kind touch that I didn’t know what to do with. I hadn’t dated much, expecting them all to be my mother and so far, I had yet to be disappointed. Part of me didn’t want to sully the pristine image I held of Aurora, the other part didn’t want to be disappointed when she turned out exactly like the rest of them.

 Finally. After two weeks, and several cans of hard cider, I broke.

 Cain: Hello Aurora, it’s Cain.

 Lame, but what else was I going to say to someone I didn’t know. I looked at the steak in my fridge, knowing I should eat it but I couldn’t be fucked at the moment. I cracked another cider and drank half the can and sat heavily in my recliner. Work had been rough. The semi truck had seemed to have a mind of it’s own and decided that she was going to be stubborn that day. My knuckled ached from slamming them into steel trying to undo a particularly stubborn bolt, my foot throbbed from where I had had half the drive shaft land on it because some dumb ass didn’t put the supports in the proper place. In short, I was tired, in pain, and yes, slightly tipsy.

 Aurora: Cain, it’s good to hear from you. How are you? I’m sorry if I don’t respond quickly yet. Just making dinner.

 I appreciated that she didn’t bring up Jake in any way, it helped me separate her from that aspect of my life. I took another sip of my cider, my mind flashing to the steak again. I really should consider eating something. I took another sip.

 Cain: I’m alright. Long day. Feel like I went a round against Conor McGregor or something today.

 I didn’t know why I was being honest, it was just, nice I supposed, this informal form of communication. I flipped through the channels and settled on watching some sports highlights though I couldn’t care less about them at the moment. I finished my cider and finally the alcohol seemed to be taking affect as all the aches faded away. They’d be back, and I knew that, but this could at least give me some relief before bed.

 Cain: What did you decide to make for dinner?

 Aurora: I’m sorry that you feel so badly, and though I had to Google who you were talking about I think you could give him a good run for his money. And simple tonight, I found a recipe online about chicken breasts with a sauce made of sausage, onions, and mushrooms. Did you eat anything? I think we’re still on the same time for a little.

 Cain: Too tired. I had some juiced and fermented fruit and that’ll work until breakfast. Though yours does sound tasty. I think Conor could kick my ass since some inanimate objects did that very well today.

 Aurora: You do need to eat. And it is so far, I used hot Italian sausage for the flavors, it pairs well with the chicken. And what kicked your ass today? I regularly test gravity to make sure it still works!

 I laughed in spite of myself.

 Cain: Could be interesting to try. And just some parts on the truck I was working on, she was a grumpy old girl and decided to take it out on me.

 She sent me the Food Wishes recipe and I glanced through it making note of what was there, maybe I’d pick the things I needed up tomorrow before I came home and give it a try. It did sound good after all, and best of all, simple. In fact, most of the recipes here seemed simple. Though I enjoyed cooking here and there, I was no culinary master and this seemed doable at least. We talked for several more hours. Aurora was surprisingly pleasant to talk to once I opened myself up to the possibility, the alcohol likely helped a lot though too. We talked about cooking, about Chopped, and my guilty pleasure Diners, Drive Ins, and Dives. It was nice. To talk to another person I mean, I wasn’t exactly a social creature and usually kept my own company unless I went out for drinks with the guys on a Friday night, even then, I usually didn’t stay long.

 The next several weeks went by in standard routine and yet, they stuck out, because of Aurora. Despite my best efforts to lock her out of my life, pretending that that night had just been a mistake I had talked with her daily, sometimes nothing more than an exchange of good mornings. More often than not though we spent hours talking, well into the night, and once or twice, most of the way through it before she made some comment about her old body needing to rest. It always made me roll my eyes at the thought and let her sleep, convincing myself to let her go to bed early the next day. Not that it ever really worked though. And what I didn’t even notice, that slowly, I came to know her as Aurora, not Jake’s Aurora. Slowly, she wormed her way into my life, talking about her life, about Natalie, Ember, and Hannah in ways that had nothing to do with Jake, and I hated to admit it, even to myself, but I needed that. This feeling that not everything was about him. Call me selfish.

 Aurora: I am in town, want to do coffee? I head back tonight.

 I stopped on my way out of work, the guys all around me piling into their own trucks and hollering about it being payday. The half wild Celts always seemed to act like payday was this mystical thing that happened rarely rather than twice a month on a rather consistent schedule. I frowned, wondering why she was in town, to my knowledge there was nothing here that appealed to her. Still though, I did want to do coffee, we had started to do a phone call here and there and this seemed like a logical step.

 Cain: Sure, just got done work. Let me clean up.

 Aurora: Take your time, I found a cute little place that has excellent pastries by the smell of it.

 Half an hour later I nosed Bermuda into a parking space that barely held her and got out of the car. The warm summer day was barely humid, just enough to be noticed. I looked around, not seeing Aurora I walked towards the small cafe on the corner of Fifth and Windsor. I had seen it more than once but given that I had only seen small little old ladies and rather, hipster, looking teens entering and exiting the establishment, I had avoided it. I stepped inside and was greeted to the smell of freshly brewing coffee and baked butter and chocolate. Oh yeah. Aurora hadn’t been kidding. This smelled like heaven. I turned as saw Aurora in a corner, we exchanged waves. I ordered and walked towards her.

 She looked, good. And good was such a poor word for what I saw in her. She wore a strappy dress that though it was sedate enough, it still cupped her in all the right ways. Her breasts were full and cupped by the white floral print silk, her dark hair was plaited in a loose style that seemed to highlight her beauty in ways that I couldn’t even describe. The occasional strand of white a highlight, as though she had twined silver silk into her hair. She smiled at me as I sat, her eyes wandering over me, appraising me too, would be my guess. I had worn a black tee and her eyes lingered on the sleeve I had from fingertips to where it disappeared from view under the shirt but spanned across my chest and other parts of my body in an intricate pattern of design and geometry that had been added to over the years. She was trying to make sense of it, would be my guess. I wished her luck. But as she looked back at me she tilted her head, like a bird, or a cat. It was oddly, endearing. “Your eyes are two different colors?”

 Fuck. I had forgotten to wear the god damned fucking contact. Fuck! Fuck fuck fuck! I closed my right eye. And muttered an apology. But she startled me, she got up and walked over, cupping my cheek in a soft touch, her skin warm, her fingertips brushing my skin sending small jolts through my entire body. I didn’t know what to do, no one had ever touched me like this. Ever. She ran the fingers of her other hand over my cheek, the shell of my ear, my eyebrow, my jaw, my lips. “Open your eye Cain.” Her voice was soft, tender, and though there was no force behind her words, it felt like a command that struck me straight in the chest. But what broke me was the whisper that followed on those soft lips that glistened with gloss. “Please.”

 I slowly complied. Watching her carefully, ready to close it again the moment disgust tinged her features, the moment that always came. With everyone else. Aurora surprised me yet again, staying still, tilting her head back and forth slowly as she studied me carefully, her touch never faltering, her tender expression never cracking. “I am assuming you’re not blind?” I shook my head, it was blurry, and a bit hazy out of that eye and was prone to give me migraines once in awhile it did see. Though only issue with the massive cornea damage to it was that I had a restriction on my license. And the look. It was an off white color, more white then grey, the white was always a little bloodshot and never opened quite as much as it’s twin. I had unfortunately inherited Jake’s denim blue, a fact that I’m sure made Felicia hate me even more, especially since I looked like him too. It had driven her mad. Here I was, a defective version of everything she had lost. But as Aurora looked at me, as she touched me with a tenderness that I had never before experienced, I didn’t feel defective. I didn’t feel broken. I felt, like I might matter, at least a little.

 “You are so handsome,” her voice came out so soft that I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to hear it. She kept touching me, kept making me feel all these things that I didn’t know what to do with. She ran her fingers through my hair, going back to stroking the highlights of my face. Only after a long time, I don’t know how long, I didn’t really want it to end, did she go back to her side. I missed her touch, but the kindness of her expression was still there. I could make do with that at least. Maybe, maybe this is what it felt like to have someone care about you. It was weird. Yet, despite myself, I enjoyed it.

 Hours flew by as we talked, I felt relaxed, exposed, and yet I didn’t mind. Because as exposed as I felt, I didn’t feel alone. We talked about everything, nothing, about Natalie falling in with the wrong group of people and how Aurora was worried, I gave some pointers on how to help reach her and not shove her away, Having been young and angst once upon a time I knew how to help, not hinder. Aurora opened up about having grown up without her father, who had died when she was very young in a car accident. I felt badly for her, but she at least had her two older brothers Carl and Mark that had helped a lot, and unlike Felicia, Elise sounded like she had at least been a good mother. I also found out then that Jake and Aurora were not married, engaged for twenty odd years, but not married, I could tell that it bothered her despite her attempt to brush it off after I asked about the small ring on her finger. I opened up a little about the nightmare that my past had been, the general parts of it anyways. The way that Felicia had threatened to sell me just to get her next fix, things like that. She seemed awed by me, and though a part of me enjoyed it, the greater part was uncomfortable by it, I wasn’t some super hero or something. And finally, after some time, the dreaded topic came up, I hadn’t even known she had heard everything.

 “So, why did you get into that fight?”

 I knew exactly which one she was talking about, the one that had happened at the King George, and the reason that Hannah had flushed prettily when she was introduced to me. I looked to her and sighed, “If I told you that you don’t want to know, would you listen?”

 “Consider it payback for the ring question.”

 I squirmed a bit, Aurora’s eyes were penetrating, not in condemnation, or even judgement, but in kindness and in understanding. I took a long sip of coffee, trying to think of where to start. “I was sitting at the bar, I saw Hannah walk in with her then boyfriend, they sat next to me and started talking, Kevin wanting to know why they were here for a funeral of a woman that neither of them knew. He kept being rude about it. Hannah, stood up and said that’s what family does, and though she hadn’t met me, she would hope that her half-brother would do the same for her should Jake died. I can’t deny it, if Jake had died before Felicia I wouldn’t have shown up, but the fact Hannah did, the fact she was standing up for someone she didn’t even know, taught me that someone could be kind. Until then, and now you, I always thought that kindness was something people used day to day, a finite resource. It explained why no one had any left for me. Anyways, when Hannah went to use the bathroom and Kevin started flirting with the waitress and another girl nearby, I couldn’t stand it. Someone as kind as she didn’t deserve to be treated like she was replaceable. She is unique in this world, well, she is like you.” I amended and looked down at Aurora, her green eyes were glassy and I swallowed hard and finished quickly. “So, I lost my temper and gave him some facial reconstruction.” Thankfully, the waitress had vouched it was self defence against the slimy prick and I hadn’t been charged with abuse. But that, not my drinking, was why Jake had been so angry with me. I was a wild card, a scandal waiting to happen.

 “Really?” Aurora’s voice was quiet, shaky. “Hannah never talks about it and the only time I brought it up to Jake he got so mad he refused to talk to me for three days.”

 “Yes,” I didn’t envy her Jake and his tantrums, “despite looking like one of the bad guys, I did hang onto my honor, if not my soul.”

 She came over, her tears falling down her cheek and I pulled her into my arms, an intimate hold,with her sitting on my lap, her slight frame dwarfed by me as I rocked her slowly, wiping away her tears. I held her tightly, trying to give her strength and comfort and knowing that I was failing miserably at both. “Thank you,” she whispered brokenly, again and again as she pressed herself against me. “Thank you so much.” I felt, like a hero, like something I had done had finally been a good thing. It took a long while but finally Aurora got herself mostly under control, though her eyes were still shimmery as she looked at me, her hand on my cheek. “I hope that Hannah meets someone that values her, that cares for her, that can protect her, just like you.”

 Six Months Later.

 “Why the fuck are corsets so fucking complicated.” I growled at the material that refused to budge at my insistence, the cords on the back denying me the access to what I wanted most. Her breasts, I could never get enough of them, the soft flesh that tasted like heaven on my tongue.

 “Just fuck me,” her plea came out in a breathy moan, a whimper of need and desire. “We don’t have that much time, please. We need to hurry.” I knew that, but Christ it felt all kinds or wrong to not taste those beautiful globes at least once. Still though, her palming my cock beneath my slacks was driving me crazy, I couldn’t take it much longer. “Please.”

 Her moaned begging snapped something inside of me, some gentlemanly urge stripped away until the feral desire that I did my best to lock up and control came to the forefront. I slammed her against the wall of the closet, the small place making our intimate encounter all the more personal. “I just couldn’t take it seeing you like this, looking all dressed in white, some virgin goddess, the demon in me just had to defile you.” Her giggle faded into a moan as I sunk my teeth into her shoulder, on the crook where the neck met and would be covered by hair for the ceremony. I had defiled her, often, and this was nothing new. She scrabbled for me to get my slacks down and I moaned at the feel of her soft hands, manicured nails teasing the sensitive organ and I nearly came right there, wouldn’t that be embarrassing, and disappointing. I hissed down at her. “Spread your legs.” I didn’t even have to say now as she complied willingly, her whole body shuddering with her own pent up lusts. This wedding planning had taken too much of our time together and we were both starving for each other, this was going to be hard, fast, and feral. I’d make up for it later.

 “Oh yes, please, please baby please!” I covered her mouth with a hand as I slid into her, her body tight around me though she was so wet I was sure it would seep through the white lace of her dress. I couldn’t care less. I slid home. The only one that I had come to know. I growled into her skin, doing my best to keep my own sounds quiet enough that we wouldn’t have a voyeur on our intimacy, though, given how badly I wanted this right now I doubted I would stop, even if someone did open the door. Her muffled ecstasy felt tickled my palm as her nails sunk into my shirt, crinkling the ironed and starched shirt that had taken me forever to get just right. All well, if it was going to get wrinkled, this was the perfect way.

 “Oh fuck, you’re so fucking tight.” She tightened even more in her arousal, she always loved when I dirty talked to her. It drove her just as crazy as her moaning and panting did for me. I slammed into her, again and again, my thrusts feral and erratic as I drove into her, desperately, achingly. I hungered for her, for this. I wasn’t going to last. “Oh fuck girl, you need to be coming soon or I am going to be right jack ass.”

 She pulled my hand aside, “Oh yes baby, I’m with you, I’m with you oh yessss!” She hissed out the last word as she climaxed and I joined her, filling her with my seed and warmth, I shuddered around her, cradling her, covering her in soft kisses. Christ, I needed this woman, she drove me wild, and yet she secured me. “Get going,” she panted out, kissing me firmly, “I need to go to the bathroom and freshen up and you need to be ready. I’ll see you soon.” I nodded but kissed her once more for good measure.

 I made my way through the crowd, unnoticed, even though I stood head and shoulder above most of them. It was amusing in a sad way, that I could pretty much be a wraith. I stopped and poured some artificial tears into my eyes and sighed in relief. Aurora had taught me about these things awhile ago and they were a god send. I looked down to see Hannah with her father, she looked beautiful in her dress, though she did look flustered, Jake didn’t look any better, in his tailored suit, he looked agitated and angry. His voice came out a demand more than a question. “Have you seen Aurora?”

 “Yes, I saw her cum by me a little over five minutes ago.”

[decideroffate]

SuMo Story Preview

Keep in mind of two things 1. I’m not finished with the outline. So this isn’t edited, and I want to change the mom’s name. 2. I was working on this run, and the outline in the week between my dad’s death and the funeral. I’m essentially using this story to help me through a few feelings. 3. The female player's beanie is the ugliest thing I’ve seen on a Pokémon player character. USUM’s female player looks so much better.

Felicia had not put much effort into dressing. Again. Or brushing. Again. Or even bathing. Again. Her hair was matted up on the right side of her head. The collar of her pajamas had a water stain ring. There was a coffee stain at the bust, and any visible white areas were not looking so white anymore. Her mother, Veronica, had a difficult time remembering when the last time Felicia changed was. Surely it had to be after the funral and move, but there had been a bit of time between both events.

Veronica watched her daughter play around with her lunch, a cheese pizza with parmagane spaghetti cheese dashed on top. All Felicia ended up doing was pull the pizza cheese off and cut up what was left underneath. Veronica tried not to be a nag whenever she got like this, lost in her thoughts and only eating after her plate had gone cold. But it was getting increasingly difficult for her not to get worried. She had hoped the move to Alola would help Felicia as much as it would help herself, but her daughter really did not seem to want to move forward.

Felicia reacted slightly when Jasper, the family Meowth, nuzzled his head against her leg. Absently, Felicia reached down to scratch his ear. “Felicia~” Veronica said in a sing-song tone. “I got you something!”

She proceeded to place what was, without a doubt, the ugliest beanie Felicia had ever seen in front of her. It was red, certainly not Felicia’s favorite color, but it was the pomp that set her off. What designer thought it was a good idea to make the top of the beanie in the shape of a hibiscus flower? “Oh, fuck no,” Felicia said standing up.

“Felicia!”

“Mom, that thing is fucking hideous, okay.”

“That doesn’t give you instinctive to be rude.”

“I don’t care…”

“Well, I do. No daughter of mine is going to behave like a brat at your age.”

Between them, Jasper’s head bounced from Veronica to Felicia as they spoke. Like he was watching a tennis match. The Meowth’s lips pursed to the side the instant Felicia rolled her eyes. “You know what, I’ve really had enough of this,” Veronica pinched the bridge of her nose. “I don’t like the attitude you’ve taken lately, and you’ve essentially become one with the couch since we got here. It’s about time you start living again.”

“Not interested,” said Felicia.

“Not up to you. We have a guest coming over, and there’s more than enough time for you to make yourself presentable. You’re to go upstairs and take a shower. I will lay out your clothes for you today, and from here on out, you rejoin us in the world of the living. I don’t care if it’s just getting a few milk bottles in Hau’oli, you’re not spending your days inside anymore.”

Felicia opened her mouth to argue, but any words she was about to say came out as a scream. She danced back, nearly falling over. There were six thin, angry lines on the instep of her right foot. Jasper’s claws glinted for a moment, and his eyes narrowed. “Oh, so you’re on her side, now?!” Felicia headed for the upstairs bathroom.

As soon as she was in the bathroom, Felicia slammed the door shut. Didn’t Veronica consider that maybe, just maybe Felicia didn’t want to get out of the house?

It had been a month since the move, and another two months since that night. The night that changed everything. It started out like any other day, but ended with Felicia burying her head in a relatives chest as the coroner took the body out of the house.

The more Felicia thought about the events leading up to that moment, the faster she brushed the knots out of her hair. Thinking about it either made her furious, or she was fighting back tears. It all depended on the day, today she was pissed as memories of the various condolences flooded back to her.

Person upon person telling Felicia and Veronica about how much they learned from her dad. How he was so helpful. How he touched so many lives. Every now and then it made Felicia want to puke. Oh, sure, her dad was so good a giving advice, but good luck trying to get him to listen to what you had to say. It would have been easier to wake up a sleeping Snorlax! And what a surprise, that stubborn pride turned out to be her dad’s fatal flaw in the end.

True to her word, Veronica left a change of clothes on Felica’s bed in her room. A white camisole, a poof t-shirt with a yellow and pink floral decal, sea green shorts, and that stupid, stupid beanie.

[ralphmorgan-blog1]

“Not a Cluster of Cells”: Mom Shares Raw Photos of Stillborn Delivered at 14 Weeks

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After losing her son, Japeth Peace, on July 24, Felicia Cash shared a heart-wrenching post on Facebook, with the hopes of bringing to light just how complete, real, formed and alive a baby is at only 14 weeks gestation.

Felicia was three-and-a-half months pregnant with her precious baby boy when she miscarried. Through the heartbreak and devastation, the mother of five was amazed by how developed her son was at just 14 weeks and six days old. He was just as much of a human being then as anyone else.

“He is perfectly and wonderfully formed, right down to his amazing tiny toes and fingers. Even his fingernails are formed and visible. Tiny veins that carried his own blood to his precious body can be seen through his delicate skin, even his wonderfully formed muscles are visible. At less than half gestation he is very obviously human, not a cluster of cells, not a lump of tissue, not a blob of unformed flesh. He is a beautiful child, formed by God, and now gone to be with Him.”

As if opening up about the loss of her son gone too soon wasn’t painful enough, Felicia posted photos of her stillborn son to show his complete and perfect humanness.

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“His tiny heart was beating within 16 days of conception, pumping his own blood. That is usually before anyone knows that they are pregnant. There seems to be a misconception that unless you can hear or see it, it isn’t happening, but that tiny heart is beating, even if it is too small to hear or see.”

Felicia and her husband desperately tried to get pregnant for 13 years, before making the courageous decision to foster children.

They took in three sisters, and adopted the girls just two years later.

Within hours of finalizing their adoption and officially welcoming their daughters into their forever home, the Cash family learned they would soon grow by one more.

“[T]he morning after we signed their adoption papers in court, we found out that we were expecting. Eight months later, our oldest son was born. A few years after that, we were blessed with another.”

Felicia never imagined years before that she’d have a family like this, much less biological children who she was able to carry, grow and birth herself.

In the spring of 2017, Felicia became pregnant a third time. This time, with TWINS!

But “complications” that began at six weeks were just the beginning of heartache for these parents. When Felicia started bleeding, she and her husband went to the hospital in fear of miscarriage.

Doctors confirmed one of the twins had in fact died. But the remaining twin was healthy and strong.

However, their fears returned when the bleeding continued later on. They were told it was simply remnants of the first loss, and a “hematoma beneath the placenta.”

But on July 24, Felicia woke to more bleeding, and even some pain.

She called her husband at work just 20 minutes away, but as soon as she hung up the phone, Felicia’s water broke.

“Within 10 minutes I had delivered my tiny son into my own hands.”

As she held her itty bitty baby in her hands, Felicia made yet another courageous decision to document those few moments of his tiny little life.

Sharing the photos was extremely difficult, but Felicia insisted, “I knew that I couldn’t let his life count for nothing.”

Facebook

She explains in her Facebook post that contrary to popular belief, a number of vital sensory developments start taking place at just SEVEN weeks.

“A baby’s hearing begins to develop around six weeks. Their nerve endings the ‘alarm buttons’ begin to develop around 7 weeks.”

Yet people still hold tight to this belief that a baby develops later in gestation, in their efforts to justify abortion.

Felicia writes that she hopes her sharing photos of Japeth will provide visual proof to those who “turn a blind eye and a deaf ear” to the painful truth of what abortion really is.

Facebook

His life mattered. It still matters, and this beautiful, grieving mama hopes that sharing her son’s life will lead other expectant mothers to think twice about abortion.

“I know that many women feel that they have no other choice, and later they regret their decision to have an abortion,” she told Live Action News.

Since sharing her intimate photos, a handful of those women have written to her expressing their pain. Her loving message of support to them is that there is hope, healing and forgiveness in Christ.

“There are many who would love to talk to you and help you through your grief. I do not shame or condemn anyone; I only offer my condolences and hope for the future.”

Felicia says though this process has been “miserable” and “heart-rending,” she’s thankful that God has allowed her the ability and strength to share Jepeth’s “precious life.”

Facebook

She closed with an encouragement to anyone reading this who’s ever lost a loved one:

“To those who have experienced a similar loss, my heart goes out to you. Your love for your lost ones is not in vain. God is good, even still.”

SHARE Jepeth’s life with your friends today, and let others know that his life—and every life—matters.

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=> *********************************************** See More Here: “Not a Cluster of Cells”: Mom Shares Raw Photos of Stillborn Delivered at 14 Weeks ************************************ =>

“Not a Cluster of Cells”: Mom Shares Raw Photos of Stillborn Delivered at 14 Weeks was originally posted by A 18 MOA Top News from around

[uvmagazine]

After suffering a heart attack earlier this week, internet cooking sensation Auntie Fee has passed away. She was 59 years old. News of her passing comes a few days after it was erroneously reported she passed away. Following her heart attack, she was placed on life support until today. Her son shared the following post on Facebook confirming news of her passing: "Thank you for all the prayers and hope, It did all it can do and now god made the decision to take my mother home where its peace & Joy and im okay with that, She can finally Be happy. Rip Momma Felicia Auntie Fee O'Dell i love you and you was my twin, When u was going through it i went through it, and now its time for you to relax and watch me do it baby. 😘😘😘😘😘😘😘😘😘😘😘😘😘😘😘😘😘" We send our condolences to her family. #auntiefee #breaking

[bountyofbeads]

Trump arrives in El Paso after staying largely out of public view in Dayton as he visits two cities grieving from mass shootings

https://wapo.st/2OLb3Qr

Trump arrives in El Paso after staying largely out of public view in Dayton as he visits two cities grieving from mass shootings

By John Wagner, Felicia Sonmez and Arelis R. Hernández | Published August 07 at 6:05 PM ET | Washington Post | Posted August 7, 2019 7:33 PM ET |

President Trump arrived in El Paso late Wednesday afternoon after remaining largely out of public view when he was in Dayton, Ohio, on a day of visits intended to console cities recovering from a pair of mass shootings over the weekend.

As he left the White House in the morning, Trump suggested he would refrain from attacking his political adversaries during the trip. “I would like to stay out of the political fray,” he told reporters.

But that detente lasted mere hours. By the time the president had left Dayton and boarded Air Force One for El Paso, he was back on Twitter and sniping at Democrats. He lashed out at Sen. Sherrod Brown (D-Ohio) and Dayton Mayor Nan Whaley (D), falsely accusing them of mischaracterizing the reception he received during about two hours of meetings at Miami Valley Hospital with first responders, hospital staff and survivors of the shooting early Sunday morning that left nine dead.

“It was a warm & wonderful visit,” Trump tweeted. “Tremendous enthusiasm & even Love. Then I saw failed Presidential Candidate (0%) Sherrod Brown & Mayor Whaley totally misrepresenting what took place inside of the hospital. Their news conference after I left for El Paso was a fraud.”

Neither Brown nor Whaley said Trump received a poor reception at the hospital, and Brown never launched a presidential campaign. Speaking to reporters after Trump’s visit to Dayton, Brown said Trump was comforting in his talks with patients in the hospital. And both he and Whaley said they used their time with Trump to lobby him to push for an assault-weapons ban and stronger background checks, among other measures.

Whaley responded to Trump’s attack with bafflement.

“I don’t – I mean, I’m really confused,” she said as she read Trump’s tweets about her and Brown, according to video posted by the Cincinnati Enquirer. “We said he was treated, like, very well. So, I don’t know why they’re talking about ‘misrepresenting.’”

“Oh, well, you know,” she added with a shrug. “He lives in his world of Twitter.”

In his tweets from aboard Air Force One, Trump also said he was watching footage of former vice president Joe Biden delivering remarks in Iowa and proclaimed the speech “Sooo Boring!”

“The LameStream Media will die in the ratings and clicks with this guy,” Trump tweeted. “It will be over for them, not to mention the fact that our Country will do poorly with him. It will be one big crash, but at least China will be happy!”

Biden’s response, according to CNN: “He should get a life.”

And the president offered a critique of Fox News’s Shepard Smith, declaring that he prefers watching “Fake News CNN” rather than tuning in to Smith’s show, “the lowest rated show on @FoxNews.”

Aside from brief appearances on the airport tarmac in Dayton and El Paso, Trump did not speak publicly or allow himself to be photographed. Reporters traveling with him were secluded as he took part in the hospital visits.

Trump was greeted by scores of protesters in downtown Dayton and more upon arriving in El Paso, where 22 people died Saturday in a massacre that appeared to target immigrants.

The visit to Dayton, a city of about 140,000 people, was a marked break with tradition, as presidents visiting grieving communities typically offer public condolences and use the opportunity to try to comfort the nation.

Ahead of Trump’s tweets about Brown and Whaley, White House social media director Dan Scavino Jr. also accused the two Democrats of “LYING & completely mischaracterizing what took place w/ the President’s visit to Miami Valley Hospital today.”

“The President was treated like a Rock Star inside the hospital, which was all caught on video,” Scavino said on Twitter. “They all loved seeing their great President!”

White House press secretary Stephanie Grisham also chastised the Democrats, saying in a tweet that it was “genuinely sad to see them immediately hold such a dishonest press conference in the name of partisan politics.”

At the hospital, Trump was accompanied by Brown, Whaley, Ohio Gov. Mike DeWine (R), Sen. Rob Portman (R-Ohio), Rep. Michael R. Turner (R-Ohio) and Turner’s daughter, who witnessed the shooting.

Miami Valley Hospital, which is the largest and only trauma center in southwestern Ohio, treated 23 victims from the shooting in the Oregon District, all of whom survived. Of those, 10 suffered gunshot wounds and 13 were injured in the ensuing panic of the rampage. Most have been released from the hospital.

Aboard Air Force One, Grisham told reporters that the White House had not allowed journalists to observe the hospital visit because it was not “a photo op.”

The visit was “about the victims and their families and thanking medical staff,” Grisham said. Soon after, the White House distributed its own photos via Scavino’s Twitter account, and Trump tweeted out a video and photos of the visit. Hospital officials later described the hospital visit to The Washington Post.

Donations from across Ohio poured in as trauma teams worked through Sunday morning. The Del Sol health system in El Paso sent food for all the hospital workers, tying together two cities united in horror.

Trump met privately with the three victims who remain hospitalized but are in stable condition. Hospital President Mike Uhl said the president was “attentive, present and extremely accommodating,” as the patients spoke about their experience, and he encouraged them to focus on both their physical and emotional recuperation.

“It was an authentic visit,” Uhl said. “Everyone was given time to tell their story.”

The hospital also invited victims who had already been released to come back and meet with Trump. About 20 people, including friends and family, met privately with the president and first lady.

According to Mary Boosalis, president and chief executive of Premier Health, which owns the hospital, one female victim recalled her experience calmly for the dignitaries in the room. But within seconds, she burst into tears. Boosalis said the first lady embraced her, and the president said a few words to comfort her.

The commander in chief’s final visit was with police, fire officials and trauma surgeons who helped save lives that morning. The six Dayton police officers credited with taking down the shooter were also in the room.

Trump commended the first responders for their speed and courage in taking down the gunman within a minute and stopping him before he could do more damage inside Ned Pepper’s bar.

“I don’t think we will ever know how many lives were saved,” by their quick thinking, Boosalis recalled Trump saying.

Boosalis and Uhl said despite the charged political atmosphere with protesters outside and calls for gun control, the moment inside the hospital was a serene and much-needed salve.

“It was a moving moment to put politics aside and celebrate survival,” Boosalis said. “It’s not about politics, but about being acknowledged.”

Speaking to reporters before he left Washington, Trump dismissed critics who have suggested that his rhetoric on race and immigration is partly to blame for a rise in hate-inspired violence, such as that in El Paso.

“I think my rhetoric brings people together,” Trump said, adding that he is “concerned about the rise of any group of hate.”

“I don’t like it,” he said, “whether it’s white supremacy, whether it’s any other kind of supremacy.”

He called his critics “people who are looking for political gain.”

Trump also said that he is open to calling on Congress to return from recess to strengthen background checks for gun buyers but that he sees “no political appetite” for banning assault rifles.

Trump’s comments about possible legislative responses to the weekend carnage continued a pattern in recent days of advocating unfocused ideas without specifics — a pattern that would face an uncertain path in Congress.

Many Democrats, including much of the presidential field, advocate reinstating the now-expired assault weapons ban that was included in the 1994 crime bill.

“There is no political appetite for that at this moment,” said Trump.

He has voiced support in recent days for “red-flag” laws, which allow police to temporarily confiscate firearms from a person deemed by a judge as posing a risk of violence.

Recent polls indicate a majority of Americans support some form of ban on assault rifles, though there is a large partisan divide, and fewer than half of Republicans support such measures. A July NPR-PBS NewsHour-Marist poll found 57 percent of the public supported a ban on “the sale of semiautomatic assault guns, such as the AK-47 or the AR-15.” Fewer than 3 in 10 Republicans supported the proposal, rising to a slight majority of independents, and over 8 in 10 Democrats.

Speaking to reporters alongside Whaley, Brown said it has been impossible to pass such legislation because of the opposition of Senate Majority Leader Mitch McConnell (R-Ky.)

“We can’t get anything done in the Senate because Mitch McConnell and the president of the United States are in bed with the gun lobby,” Brown said.

Whaley said during a brief talk with Trump on the airport tarmac, she told him: “Mr. President, the city of Dayton and the people of Dayton are really looking forward to some action” on gun control.

“I think he heard me. I don’t know if he will take action,” Whaley added.

Scores of sign-wielding protesters — and some Trump supporters — gathered in downtown Dayton, anticipating Trump’s arrival. Protesters changed routes when they heard that the president would be greeting survivors at the Miami Valley hospital and stood along a sidewalk hoping to catch Trump’s attention.

A caravan of emergency vehicles separated the line of demonstrators from the back entrance where the president’s motorcade pulled in.

Stephanie Smith, 67, brought a small printout with a cartoonish image of Trump with the words “Stop Gun violence.” The retiree was awakened early Sunday by calls from relatives worried she would have been in Dayton’s Oregon District when the shooting began.

She then awakened her adult son with the same inquiries.

“It’s horrifying,” Smith said. “I appreciate the work being done on red-flag legislation but I am concerned that not enough attention is being placed on the weapons themselves.”

Along the protest line, demonstrators said they have lost faith in their politicians to “do something” — as they chanted — to stop the kind of carnage that devastated their city.

“Thoughts and prayers don’t stop bullets,” one of several signs read.

Three high school friends used banner paper to hold a sign welcoming Trump to Toledo, referencing a mistake he made earlier in the week during remarks in the Oval Office.

In El Paso, crowds of protesters could be seen gathered down a few side streets near University Hospital, where Trump arrived in the late afternoon. Rep. Veronica Escobar (D), whose district includes the Walmart and shopping center where the massacre occurred, said Tuesday that she had turned down an invitation from the White House to join Trump during his trip.

Some residents of the city were distressed by the president’s visit.

Albert Hernandez, 55, used to be a supporter of Trump. That changed last weekend, when his sister, Maribel Hernandez, and his brother-in-law, Leo Campos, were gunned down by the El Paso shooter.

In recent years, Hernandez said, his sister and her husband shared concerns that Trump was stoking racist and xenophobic sentiment with his rhetoric. Until this point, other relatives, including Hernandez himself, would often disagree.

“I was the one who would tell them that they were exaggerating, but now, with this tragedy, it’s the total opposite,” Hernandez said. “Now that this hit the family, people are starting to wake up.”

Hernandez criticized the president’s recent anti-immigrant and racist rhetoric, citing the incident when he told four Democratic congresswomen of color to “go back” to where they came from as well as the speech Trump gave in Florida where he smirked after an audience member yelled for migrants to be shot.

“[Trump] doesn’t seem to understand that he needs to stop because he’s awakening these killers,” the El Paso native said. “He doesn’t seem to understand that these people — these assassins — feel like they are his soldiers.”

Trump met with some family members of the shooting victims when he visited El Paso Wednesday, but Hernandez said no one from his family received an invitation from the president’s office. Even if they had, he added, he likely would not have attended.

“Honestly, as a proud American, a patriotic American, I think Trump should stay away from El Paso,” Hernandez said. “He’s making it worse.”

Hernandez reported from Dayton. Rebecca Tan, Allyson Chiu, Tim Craig, Scott Clement and Tim Elfrink in Washington contributed to this report.