#sell your house in Bahamas

[davidsteve1]

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[disgustingtwitches]

MDNI

141 as your drug dealer boyfriend

Ghost- Let's be real with ourselves, Ghost is not a good man. He doesn't care who he hurts, as long as he gets his. He will do anything to get what he wants and there is no stopping him. It's what made him a great soldier, and it's what makes him a great kingpin. He moves weight to put it lightly. There isn't a moment where an uncut key is unmoving; from a warehouse, to a plane (or car, or train), to a distributor, to a pusher, to up someone's nose. He'll try to do some damage control, make sure things aren't cut with fent, but that's only to make sure customers keep coming back. He likes to keep his hands clean, in the sense that he'll never be the one to pull the trigger on anyone that's out of line. Living up to his name, no one knows what he looks like. Hell, a lot of people don't even think he's real.

But when it comes to you, Simon's a different man. No talk about work, just you and him. Other than the multiple hidden guns around the house and Glock he sleeps with, life is normal with you. Holiday homes in the French countryside and Bahamas. Designer everything. Sports cars in all your favorite colors. You want for nothing. It's the life he wanted for you. After all those years of crying and hurt when he was away for weeks or months, you deserved the world. Want the new Hermès bag? You got it. Can't choose between the black or white louboutins? Get both. Stop eating you out because you can't feel your toes anymore? Sorry love, only thing he can't do for you.

Soap- Johnny is a small business owner. Weighs everything out by his own hand. Presses his own pills. Let's you help baggie everything up. A social butterfly, this man is at every concert, rave, or music festival. Sometimes he has a friend help push his stuff when he just wants to stay home with you, but for the most part he's his own salesman. And a damn good one. Never has overstock. No matter how much he brings with him, he'll always sellout.

Has a supernatural sense of being shorted. Can tell if a bag is even a few grams off just by holding it.

"Ye'r an idiot if ye think ye kin short me."

And when the other party denies, he always keeps a pocket scale on him, setting the parcel on it. And sure enough, he's always right.

He'll come home with a few grand, the only job you have is to sit there and look pretty. And roll his spliffs. Sitting in his lap, tucking the rolling paper into itself and licking it closed while he counts out a fat wad of cash. He hands you a fat stack,

"A've never bin good wi' money. Ye know how to spend it better than me."

He never touches the stuff he sells, no need to when all the dopamine he needs is right between your legs.

"Ten times better than any o tha' shite, anyways."

He pants in your ear while folding you in half, firm grip on your throat.

Gaz- When it comes to psychedelics, Kyle is your go-to man. He's a fucking genius, synthesizes his own DMT and LSD in a lab. It's a state of the art facility, clean with the latest and greatest equipment available. He supplies the whole Northeast. If it's a hallucinogen, it's most likely Gaz's product. And if it's good, it's definitely his. He has a cozy set up with some "organization" that he cooks for. Steers clear of actually selling to people, no need to when his clients line his pockets so well. Never brings work home, he even wears different clothes when he's in the lab.

He has a set schedule he has to adhere to but sometimes he's able to take vacations with you. And that's how you ended up bent over a balcony watching the sunset in Punta Cana,

"I work so hard to make you happy, now it's my turn yeah?"

A breeze sends a shiver up your spine while he kisses your shoulder,

"I know a private beach where you can even out those tan lines,"

Of course he doesn't give a shit about that, he just wants to fuck you silly on the seaside (and show off to anyone who might be watching.)

Price- Caring and nurturing, the man naturally has a green thumb. And alongside his prized heirloom tomatoes, he grows really, really good weed. Has a whole growroom in his basement, decked out with proper ventilation, ACs, UV lights, the works. The man grows medical grade weed that private clinics buy from him. He's legit. And of course he serves the public as well under the table, sells only to people he knows and established clients can refer others to him. He treats his plants like his babies, even going as far as to play music for them (according to him classical music helps them grow better???). You don't know where he finds the time, but he also made you rose garden for your anniversary. He brings up the idea of a family every so often. He'll finish as deep inside of you as possible,

"Let's replace that plant nursery for a real one, yeah love?"

Gonna write actual stories for each one if y'all like this ( . * 3 * . )/`

[itsravenbitch]

Hi Raven, since Fleur’s on break and you two are my favorite bloggers, i thought why not send you my success.

with the help of you both, i manifested so many things by simply giving my desires to the inner man! 🥹

“the only reason why you fail, is because you haven’t accepted that imagination is the only reality, everything stems from imagination. the longer you focus on getting it in the physical world, the more stress you’ll have. you only want the feeling such desire brings you, so give it to your inner man.” is what Fleur told me once, and it stuck with me ever since.

You have made such an impact in my life too, and all i can do is thank you both for being amazing bloggers, and two of the best too.

i’ll give you a short list of some of the things i manifested:

my dad being entirely healthy from possible tumors, i revised absolutely everything, how? some people may ask: by accepting the fact that it never happened in the world of imagination.

my mother selling more houses, specially to rich people. she’s a realtor, and wasn’t having the best weeks in the market, now she’s making so much money, and i’m so happy for her. 🫶🏿

physical changes: height, eye color change, bigger lips, bigger body (i had trouble gaining weight), no stretch marks, rosy lips, and natural pigmented blush on my cheeks (i would love if you could suggest some good blushes for dark skinned girls, i would appreciate you twin!! ❤️‍🩹) and more.

clothes, shoes, a new closet in general lol.

a new phone & airpods max!

and there’s more, but these are the most important to me. once again, thank you both! @itsravenbitch and @fleurlx i love you so much.

hi love:)

this is amazing but this was all you! you fed your inner man and made this happen!

as for blush for darker skin i’ll recommend both orange and pink tone blushes cause i use both so

pink

nars cosmetics blush in “exhibit A”

mac powder blush in “raizin”

and rare beauty liquid blush in “lucky”

orange

one size cheek clapper 3d blush trio in “fire starter”

elf’s putty blush in “bahamas”

rare beauty liquid blush in “joy”

[tavolgisvist]

When he [Bob Eubanks] hired me he was the man who promoted the Beatles in LA. I was never really sure he liked them, but the hell, he was getting rich at the Hollywood Bowl. There were many other deals going. One of the drivers, after the first Bowl show, handed the Beatles towels to dry their sweat. He later cut up the towels, encased half-inch squares of towel in plastic, and sold them for five bucks each. The driver was really a radio station newsman. I guess he’s got turned on by now, but in those days he wasn’t very cool. It was all deals then. Anyway, I got to know Eubanks during our first American visit, with the Beatles in 1964, and he said whydoncher work for me buddy, we’ll get rich? So our family of six emigrated.

...

Paul Revere and the Raiders, the Beau Brummels, Joe and Eddie and Jerry Naylor. Plus the Beatles, for though I wasn’t working for them any more they were the love of my life and Bob Eubanks figured that with a love like that you know it can’t be bad. ‘I’m going to have you fly to the Bahamas,’ he said, the night we arrived in Los Angeles, 70,000 miles from England and intending to set up home. ‘Tonight?’ ‘No. Next week.’ Gee, thanks. Maybe we can get a house, find schools, buy some furniture, get used to the heat and, all in one week, fly to the Bahamas. And, also, he said, why didn’t I fly to Sacramento, see Paul Revere and the Raiders, make friends, sign them up and go on stage to say: ‘Hi. I’m Derek Taylor, used to work for the Beatles. I’m now working for Paul Revere and I’m flying to the Bahamas next week to see the Beatles make their new movie and I’m going to take them your love and also the good wishes of Paul Revere and the Raiders.’ I guessed this must be how things work in America, so I did it. I made friends with Paul Revere, signed them up and went on stage and made my speech. Later that night, I went to the motel where Revere and company were staying and he showed me how you could put a match to a fart and there would be green flame. I quite liked the guy. I liked the group too. They were good and they did well. They were all young then (all but Revere and Mark Lindsay who had seen a lot of hard service here and there), and full of hope of taking over from the Beatles. ‘Are we good enough?’ they asked and it was tough to answer ‘No’, so one just hedged and mumbled and begged the question. The next week I flew to the Bahamas with Dave Hull, squarest disc jockey at KRLA, an amiable short-hair who believed that Medicare had to be the worst thing to happen to America since the New Deal. We arrived in Nassau to find the Beatles just leaving for dinner in the town. They were less than glad to see me, old pal in radio drag with a tape-recorder over my shoulders. ‘This is Derek Taylor, reporting from the Bahamas. I have with me Ringo Starr of the Beatles. Hi Ringo. Nice to see you again.’ ‘Hi Derek. Nice to see you again. What are you doing with a microphone under my famed nose?’ What indeed? Bob’s idea was that I would use my relationship with them, my friendship even, and get interviews which would be unique: ‘Not merely interviews, but rather … conversation between friends’ was the slogan we would use to sell the tapes, once they had been cut up, packaged and prepared for use on radio stations. A scale of charges was drawn up – $50, $100, $200, depending on the wattage of the station. None of this was to be communicated to the Beatles. All they were to know was that Derek was doing a little gig for KRLA to get Prestige Publicity some working capital. Before the family and I had arrived in Los Angeles, there had been dozens of commercials on KRLA: ‘Derek Taylor is jetting to town. Derek Taylor? Wow. Yes, folks, Derek Taylor is coming to KRLA.’ Also, above my glamorous name, letters had gone to every showbiz celebrity in town, announcing my coming. Oh, yes, it’s all true. * Paul was very mean in the Bahamas. I mean, mean. Who is to blame him? Not I. Not me.

‘Bloody hell,’ he said when he saw me. ‘Bloody hell, Derek. You with a tape-recorder asking us questions?’

Oh yes, me with a tape-recorder. The thing was what was the thing I was? Their friend or a journalist or their ex-publicist Brian Epstein’s ex-personal assistant or a puppet of Bob Eubanks or a man in search of a career in American radio or what? The answer is I didn’t think there was any choice. I didn’t know about things like that. I mean I wouldn’t rob an old woman with one leg and a blind dog, and I wouldn’t take a bribe and I wouldn’t rape my sister but I would do many, many things if I was told to because that was the way it had always been. I would write a list of Forty Fab Facts you didn’t know about the Beatles and sell them. I would allow myself to be offered to Lloyd Thaxton of Hollywood as a television link man, I would do so many things which now would be quite ridiculous. I would, even, have the extraordinary cheek to turn up in the Bahamas with a tape recorder to interview the Beatles. It was as well I did it then; I couldn’t do it now. God, I must have been brave or daft or something I’m not sure any more. Brian had slipped out of the Bahamas before I arrived. A good idea. We hadn’t been very close since the previous year, 1964, when I had resigned in the Riviera Motel near Kennedy Airport. It was a shame because we lost valuable talking-time and he hadn’t very long to live and many, many people with whom Brian had trouble have their own regrets that their patience was not more extensive and, of course, patience was what you needed with Brian because he could be, if not impossible, then unbearable, and sometimes impossibly unbearable, but many of the people I like most are absolutely terrible. You too? Good.

We were down on the beach at Paradise Island (you reached it by ferry from Nassau; in those days it was owned by Huntington Hartford, later Howard Hughes) and it was a fantastic rich man’s folly with a casing like a palace out of Ben Hur, quite empty, safe doors swinging open, phones out of order – open to wind and water. The beaches that were Paradise, empty but for Beatles paying gold for the privilege, and an army of savage extras, one of whom was Murray the K, disc jockey lately become fifth Beatle and anxious to appear in a movie with them. (‘For the image, man.’) Down on the beach at Paradise Island, Dave Hull had one recorder and mike, I had another. He had given me his mike: ‘This will put more oomph’ (oomph, for Chrissake?) ‘in your voice,’ he said, showing me. ‘Moooore ba aaaaasssss sound, like, deeeeeep.’ OK Dave, I can dig it. The mike was faulty and I popped p’s in the breeze.

We split up between the Beatles. I took John first; caustic John who was really nothing of the sort. He pulled a couple of desultory put downs and then gave me as good a tape as you’ll get if you are asking questions like: ‘Whereja buy your boots?’ and ‘Do you enjoy filming?’ and ‘How old are you?’ of someone you know at least as well as your brother, and maybe better. George told me about going to a family wedding in Liverpool.

Paul decided not to be mean any longer – guessing, correctly, that life was bad enough without rubbing my nose in it – and talked about song-writing (‘we can carve Paul’s up into twenty pieces,’ said Dave. Let’s see, twenty by $100, that’s 2,000 bucks) and Ringo said it was great to be married, a quote you can read even today. It comes up as fresh as ever. That evening we had dinner in the open air, along a fine table laid with white linen and silver from a graceful pantry. I was invited with one of those, ‘Don’t tell a soul, man, just give Dave and Murray the slip, like come alone,’ and it was a nice time. Dave and I flew back to LA next day. Bob Eubanks met us at the airport with press photographers, a frown creasing his handsome, suntanned mask. ‘Hi buddy. Get the tapes?’ ‘Yeah man; got the fucking tapes. Lost me soul, tho’, lost me soul.’ He seemed very glad to hear it. Gayle and Cecil were waiting back at 6290 Sunset, Joan and the kids were at the airport with Bob and by the time we arrived home in Nichols Canyon, where we had just scored a house before I flew to the Bahamas, I was needed in the office to write about my thrilling experiences with the fab Beatles in the sun-drenched Bahamas. I thought maybe I was really earning the stinking $215 a week and Joan wondered if any money could make up for the changes she was having to go through. A few days later, Bob Eubanks and his team of mailers, tape-editors and salesmen were ready to market the tapes, segmented, trailered, packaged. Beatlemania would do the rest. An ad was placed in Billboard. Disaster … No one wanted the tapes, at all. But these, we said, were conversations between friends, we said. No deal, said the thundering silence. And Brian Epstein, through his lawyers in New York, threatened vengeance in the worst way. ‘I back down,’ I told Bob. ‘You stay where you are,’ said Bob. ‘We won’t have hands to count the money.’ Forget it. I backed down and out of Beatle tapes. Also, I never had the lust for gold again. Money doesn’t talk, it swears* and Hollywood is a town of many temptations. I left Bob Eubanks a few weeks later, taking with me 2½ per cent of the Byrds who were then grossing a few hundred a month and Paul Revere and the Raiders who had been paying Eubanks $750 a month but who asked me would I take $350 a month on account of they weren’t all that well heeled (they were in fact very well heeled), and I may not be able to do the job as well without Bob behind me. OK, OK, I’ll take it. This was the middle of 1965. The Byrds’ epoch-making Tambourine Man had been released and it had made Number 1 in the US and was about to do the same in Britain. Revere had yet to have a hit, but they were good on stage. The Byrds and Revere were both Columbia Records and they didn’t really enjoy each other’s music though they shared the same producer, Terry Melcher. Serving them was therefore like walking on a tightrope. It was like pedalling backwards on a one-wheeled cycle with a puncture, body all aching and racked with bennies, between ‘Revere: the finest performing group in North America, Oregon’s answer to Liverpool’, and ‘America’s best group’ which is what I thought about the Byrds then and still do, mostly. When, later, I picked up the Beach Boys, who also wanted their publicist to write ‘best’ and ‘greatest’, it became more a matter for a clever thesaurus than a tired, tired biped with twenty clients and five children.

...

In those days, and the more I write, the further off and the further out they become (remember the McGuinn glasses and David Crosby’s cape?) – in those days there was the Beatles and everyone else and as we flew to Britain, Michael Clarke, Byrd drummer, was asking, did I figure they would get to meet the Beatles? Since ‘These Are Not Merely Interviews, These Are Conversations Between Friends’, the last thing I wanted to do was run into the Beatles! Yet, all the pre publicity to the tour suggested that the Beatles would be intrigued to see what the Byrds were like. So a meeting was unavoidable. On our first night in London, I stayed in the hotel, the Europa in Grosvenor Square. Mike went out with Gene and David (I think they all went out) and at about 4 a.m. Mike woke me and said, ‘We met them, we actually got to meet the Beatles. Paul said “hi” and George wants to see you.’ Oh yeah? Next night it happened that George and John came to Blaises where the Byrds performed to a room no bigger than the one you’re sitting in now, on a stage insufficient to carry all the drum kit. They played louder than anyone else had been known to play, even in Madison Square Garden they were bloody loud, and Blaises or blazes, they were going to tune up and belt the music out. I thought they were marvellous and I think John and George did, but some of the English smirkers smirked and you only need a few English smirkers in a half lit room to feel pleased you’re not proud to be English. Upstairs in Blaises, after the set, John and George sat at a long table and invited us in. Boy, were they big-time then – I’d forgotten. It wasn’t them at all, it was the situation. They were absolutely IT. John sat at the centre of the table, George at the head and they sent for wine for free. It came and we arrived with it. ‘Thanks for the tapes,’ said John, very loud. ‘Which tapes?’ I said, very soft. ‘You know which tapes,’ said John, still very loud. ‘True,’ I said, a little louder, knowing that was the end of that. So it was. We all left, again in that under-the-breath ‘come alone’ way, John grabbing bottles of wine to wave goodbye by way of goodbye to Jim Carter-Fea, then owner of Blaises, By Appointment, Host to the Beatles. We went round to Brian Jones’s apartment where we smoked some hash and some grass and as there was no food in the place and, after the wine had finished, no liquid excepting a half-bottle of milk, solid as chalk, we went out for hamburgers and then went home.

*Bob Dylan

(As Time Goes by Derek Taylor)

(Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV, Part V, Part VI, Part VII, Part VIII, Part IX, Part X, Part XI)

[sjsmith56]

Celebrating - A Private Man, Chapter 25

Summary: Christmas Day brings an assortment of guests to the Barnes / Proctor household.

Length: 5.3 K

Characters: Bucky, Tracey, Rebecca, Rhodes, Janice, Peter Parker, Olivia Walker

Warnings: Some bittersweet memories but mostly fluff

Author notes: I wish Bucky had received something definite from MCU Tony Stark about the death of his parents. My take on what could have been is here. Divider by vecteezy.com

<<Chapter 24

The following day, Christmas Day, saw a gift exchange that brought all three women in Bucky's life to tears as they opened the heartfelt gifts he got them. Janice received a warm hug from Bucky for the 18-year-old bottle of Macallan Scotch she gave him. Rhodes name was also on the gift and the two men shook hands. Bucky gave Rhodes some cigars. He looked at the box.

"How did you get Cuban cigars?" he asked. "They're illegal to bring into the US."

Bucky smirked. "Didn't come through customs from Wakanda," he said. "I bought them in the Bahamas. They weren't illegal when I was a young man."

"Let me get this straight," said Rhodes. "You bought Cuban cigars on your honeymoon, knowing that you couldn't bring them through US customs .... Oh, I get it. You knew you wouldn't be coming home the same way. I should report you; you know."

"You could or you could just accept them and have one out in the back yard with me later," smiled the super soldier. "It's kind of silly to prevent the best cigars in the world from entering your country. I mean, the Bahamas and Canada allows them and last time I checked they were both pretty good places.”

Rhodes looked at the box for some time before he decided to keep them.

"If anyone finds out it will be my job," he said. "But what the hell. You only live once."

Bucky clapped Rhodes on the shoulder then looked at Rebecca's gift, opening it eagerly. She bought Bucky the latest book on astronomy and a book on alien intelligence that explored the intelligence of some of the world's most unique animals.

"I've been looking at this book for a while," he said. "You must have been looking at my search history. Thank you."

"You're welcome," she smiled.

Tracey came forward then and held out a little box to Bucky. "I didn't know what to get you then Rebecca told me something," she said. "She said you had to sell a motorbike you restored because of bills."

Bucky's face went pale as he opened the box to find a key. He dangled it.

"This isn't a motorbike key," he said, puzzled. "The one I restored didn't have a key."

"I know," she replied. "That's the key to a storage locker where there is another motorcycle for you to restore. Pepper Stark helped me find it. It's a World War II Indian Scout model that was used by the US army, possibly even by the Howling Commandos. The provenance is kind of muddy on that as it appears it was rebuilt using parts from several motorcycles at one point. It needs a lot of work. Once we get that garage built at the house I figured it would keep you busy during your down times."

He said nothing at first, then he got up and pulled Tracey into a tight embrace before kissing her passionately. The other three looked self-consciously at each other as the couple became lost in each other.

"I guess he likes his present," said Rebecca.

Bucky pulled away from his kiss. "Hell yes," he replied. "Can I go look at it?"

"Sure, I wrote the address of the storage locker down," said Tracey. "Just don't ask me to ride it when you're done. I'm terrified of them."

"Oh, darling, if I'm riding it you're riding with me," said Bucky with a big grin. "I'll never let you fall."

He got his jacket on then looked at Rhodes and motioned for him to join him. With a smile the new director of the Avengers jumped up and grabbed his jacket. They headed out the door and were soon on their way to the storage facility. When they arrived Bucky inputted the code on the keypad then drove to the storage locker. Kneeling down he unlocked the lock and slid open the door. The outline of a motorcycle was under a tarpaulin. Turning on the overhead light he lifted the tarpaulin off and gasped at the bike.

"Look at that," said Rhodes, kneeling down beside it. "A classic."

"Huh," said Bucky, running his hand over the seat, then over the saddlebags.

He removed them and pulled a Swiss Army knife out of his pocket, using it to remove some screws from the rear fender. It was just enough for him to lift it slightly so that he could look on the underside. He must have found what he was looking for because he smiled broadly.

"It's Bessie," he said. "It's really her." He looked at Rhodes. "We had several of these in the Howling Commandos. Steve rode a Harley WLA Liberator, a monster of a bike that was customized for him, but the rest of us liked the handling on these. They were easy for us to maintain and repair. We put them through hell and if they did get damaged it was easy to get replacement parts. Other units would just put theirs back into the motor pool, but we took them and cannibalized parts from the one that was damaged the most." He shifted his attention to the front fender and felt along a spot inside the edge with his finger. Another big grin erupted on his face. "It's really her. I fixed this bike in 1944. Other parts of it are different ... like that seat and some of the motor parts but I rode this bike."

"That's incredible," said Rhodes. "What are the chances? How did you learn to work on them? Were you a mechanic?"

"Not trained as one but I learned the basics about cars from my dad. When I worked on the docks before the war we could be assigned to a repair dock and I learned more about engines there. Once I joined the Howling Commandos it pretty much was what we did in our down time, that is when we weren't in the pubs or chasing girls. I can't believe this."

Rhodes looked inside the saddle bags and noticed a Manila envelope inside. There were records of what had been found out about the motorcycle prior to Tracey buying it. He skimmed through it then found the part about the Howling Commandos, handing it to Bucky.

Reading it, Bucky shook his head in disbelief. "After I fell they put this back into the motor pool but no one would take it out because it was associated with me and I bought the farm. It didn't get ridden for the rest of the war. The Smithsonian took it ...." His voice trailed off and he put his hand to his mouth, handing the page to Rhodes.

He read it then looked at Bucky before he finished it. "When it was determined that Bucky Barnes was the Winter Soldier it was removed from the Smithsonian exhibit on the Howling Commandos and sat in a storage facility for several years, its provenance deliberately destroyed because of the actions of the HYDRA super soldier. The decision was made to destroy the motorcycle because of its connection to the assassin." He looked at Bucky. "Obviously that didn't happen." Quickly he scanned through the remaining pages. "A private collector formally objected to the destruction of the motorcycle and offered the Smithsonian a million dollars for it. In early 2018 he was permitted to buy it at that price. It was kept in a storage locker.... Bucky, it was brought here, to this address. Whoever bought it wanted you to have it."

"Does it say who the collector was?" asked Bucky, his face neutral. "Is there anything identifying who it was?"

"Nothing, except he was a mechanic," said Rhodes. He gave out a short grunt. "Shit, I think I know who it was."

He went back to the saddlebags, re-checking the one he took the large envelope out of then the other, finding another smaller envelope. It was addressed to Bucky. Gingerly, he took the envelope from Rhodes and opened it, finding a folded letter inside. He looked at the signature then back to Rhodes.

"Go ahead, read it out loud," said the other man.

Clearing his throat Bucky began reading.

February 17, 2018

To: Bucky Barnes

I can't begin this letter in the usual way as you are not dear to me. I'm still working on forgiveness but that is my issue. Since you and Cap left me in my broken suit in that Siberian hell hole I've had the time and the opportunity to explore the HYDRA files on what you were subjected to as a prisoner of war. There is no doubt in my mind that what you underwent would break any man. That you managed to break free at all must be a testament to the real James Barnes, the one that Cap saw and fought for. I accept that now. It doesn't make my parents' death any easier to accept. Rather, it angers me even more that some individual decided that the serum, that was forced upon you, was worth more than the lives of Howard and Maria Stark. That they had to wipe your memories, and subject you to a horrific level of torture to ensure your compliance in their demise angers me. You were not responsible for their death, but everyone who kept you in servitude was, including Alexander Pierce and his band of thugs who infiltrated SHIELD, betraying everything it was supposed to stand for.

I don't know if you will ever make it back home to the States. I hope you do. Having learned that you were given asylum and treated by the Wakandans I am confident they were able to provide you with some peace and a reason for you to go on. You don't need to fear that I will come looking for retribution. It won't bring my parents back and it will just add to the wrongs that were done to you.

If you are reading this letter sometime in the future it means you have come home and you have been reacquainted with the motorcycle, the same motorcycle you used, worked on and cherished in World War 2. From one mechanic to another, she's a beauty, a true workhorse of a machine. I think she may have been used a little for parts while she sat unused in the motor pool and that someone from the Smithsonian without an imagination put any old replacement part on her to put her in their Howling Commandos display. The tassels on the seat and saddle bags definitely have to go. In the storage locker where the motorcycle is stored are several boxes of replacement parts to restore her to what she was during the war, a great motorcycle.

Accept this as a peace offering from this mechanic to you. Someday, I'll be ready to forgive you for what you had no choice in. Perhaps then we can work together on her, talk engines, and drink some good scotch. Until then, be well.

Tony Stark

Bucky looked up from the letter, a little shaken, and folded the letter back into the envelope. Behind him he saw several boxes and opened them, seeing a multitude of parts, perhaps even enough to build a second motorcycle if he ever came across another derelict specimen. He stood up and faced Rhodes.

"I don't think I can accept this," he said. "Stark paid a million dollars for this. I'm not sure I'm worth that kind of gift."

"Tony was a billionaire," said Rhodes. "A million was no big deal to him but maybe doing this was. The aftermath of the fight in Leipzig that split us apart, then you and Cap fighting against him in Siberia, had quite the effect on him. He was used to being right almost all the time. It was easy for him to see you as a villain until he saw the evidence of what HYDRA did to you. I knew he was diving deep into your past because he wanted to be right about painting you as evil. The evidence didn't support that, and he began to question a lot of his perceptions. It got worse after the Snap because he blamed himself but when he found out that you fought on the line in Wakanda, I guess it finally hit him that without the HYDRA programming you were heroic. Take it, enjoy it. It's what he wanted for you, to enjoy this motorcycle again. I was his best friend for a long time, and I believe he did this as a gesture, a grand Tony Stark gesture, but a genuine one."

For a few more moments Bucky stood there. "Do you think Tracey knows?" he asked.

Rhodes shook his head. "Knowing Pepper she likely made it sound like a bargain of a deal that she came across. She probably took a reasonable amount from Tracey and gave it to a charity. I'm guessing Pepper knew Tony did this and saw it as an opportunity to get it to you. Don't tell Tracey as it was still a gift from her heart."

Nodding, Bucky covered up the boxes and the motorcycle, resting his hand on top of it for a moment before turning off the light and closing the door, then locking it. The two men got back into the SUV then Bucky turned to Rhodes.

"Now that I have you here, I have to ask," he said, grinning slightly. "What are your intentions with my mother-in-law?"

Rhodes grinned back. "Quite honourable," he replied. "I enjoy her company, she enjoys mine. We haven't ... you know but once her divorce is final I can see our relationship progressing. I wouldn't ask her to move and leave your sister stranded. They're quite the pair, I'll tell you. Does that satisfy you?"

"It does," replied Bucky. "We'll talk more over scotch and a cigar tonight, after dinner."

With smiles between them the two men returned back to the house where the preparations for Christmas dinner were already underway. Both of them asked to help and were put to work preparing vegetables, peeling, or chopping what was assigned to them. When the doorbell rang Bucky went to the door, looking through the cutout window and smiled. He opened it up to the dark-haired woman standing there, offering her his hand.

"You came," he said. "I'm glad. Please, come in."

When she entered he offered to take her coat, hanging it up in the closet. Tracey came to the door as he had told her about the invitation when they went to bed the night before.

"Tracey, this is Olivia Walker, John's wife," he said. "Olivia, my wife Tracey. Come in and meet the others."

Smiling tentatively, Olivia entered and shook hands with Tracey, then reached inside a bag, bringing out a wrapped present.

"This is just a little thank you for inviting me here today," she said. "It's just chocolates. I was going to eat them on my own while I watched TV."

Tracey immediately extended an arm to Olivia and hugged her, bringing tears to both their eyes.

"No one should be on their own for Christmas Day," she whispered. "You're more than welcome. Come into the kitchen. Everyone is there."

Bucky watched as Tracey introduced Olivia to everyone; so proud of his sister as she also hugged Walker's wife. Janice was warm to her and Rhodes told her that he would be keeping an eye on her husband, making sure he was treated with dignity as his case made its way through the justice system.

"I was there when Dr. Strange and Wong undid what Karl Mordo did to your husband," he said. "It overwhelmed him. He'll be alright and if he gets some counselling, I'm sure he'll come through it."

"Thank you," she said. "I know that when Val began talking about this group they were forming he was alarmed. That's why he tried to warn you, Bucky. I couldn't believe that it was all a ruse to get you to trust him because he came to admire you a lot in the past year. You adapted to live a normal life and he began to hope that perhaps he could do the same." She waved her hands across her face, trying to keep from crying, while breathing deeply. "Now, what can I help with? Please give me something to do."

Janice brought out several containers full of baked treats, then found a Christmas platter for them to be arranged on, leaving that task to Olivia. With Rhodes offering her a drink of egg nog, they all jumped back into preparing dinner together. A vibration from Bucky's phone had him pulling it out of his pocket and going into the living room where he looked at the text message, then laughed.

"Do we have enough food to feed a few more people?" he asked. "Peter spent the evening at his girlfriend's home. Their stove broke and they can't make Christmas dinner. So, he's asking for himself, MJ, her mother, and his friend Ned."

Rebecca came out from the kitchen. "We have more than enough food for them, but you'll have to set up another table out here."

"I'll go out to the shed and get the patio table," said Bucky. "There are three chairs with it and maybe one of the chairs from the bedroom."

Placing her hand on his cheek, Rebecca smiled. "It's just like the old days, isn't it? When we had Steve and his ma over, then someone else would knock on the door and Ma would invite them to stay. How many times did we have a full house because Ma kept asking people?"

"I seem to remember it was most years," replied Bucky, hugging his sister. "Maybe they have some board games we could play after."

"Not Monopoly!" yelled Janice, from the kitchen. "I hate that game."

With a grin Bucky phoned Peter and told him everyone was welcome, and to bring board games for after, as long as Monopoly wasn't one of them. As soon as he hung up Bucky put his jacket and boots on then went out back to the shed, wading through the snow drift in front of the shed. After unlocking it he stepped inside and pulled out the three patio chairs, then the table. They would need to be wiped down so he left them on the back steps while he went inside and got some rags to clean them up a bit. Once he was satisfied he carried the furniture inside, setting the pieces up at the edge of the living room, close enough to the dining room that they wouldn't feel too separate. Olivia came over with a tablecloth and together they set the extra table.

By the time Peter and the others arrived the dinner was almost ready. They didn't come empty handed, as MJ's mother, Madeleine, brought some of her own baking and a salad that she had already prepared. The three younger visitors brought several games each, not one of them Monopoly. As the food was brought out and placed on the kitchen counter so everyone could help themselves then find a place to sit at the tables Tracey put a Christmas music playlist on then excused herself suddenly, quickly going to the bathroom. Bucky followed her then came back, apologizing to the newcomers.

"Sorry, she's experiencing some morning sickness right now."

"She's expecting?" asked Olivia. "I thought ... never mind." Everyone looked at her strangely while she looked embarrassed. "Of course, Val would lie. She said you were sterile. Apparently Alexander Pierce told Thaddeus Ross and he told her. Pierce said it was better that way because your kids would be ... I'm sorry but I can't repeat it. It was disgusting. Another reason why John wanted out. They kept telling him how special he was then he'd hear them talk about him in the same way." She started to cry. "We decided not to have any kids because we didn't want to subject them ...."

Tracey came out to hear the last bit and looked at Bucky, who nodded. Gently, Tracey helped Olivia up from her chair and took her to their bedroom. Bucky went with them. As Olivia and Tracey sat on the bed Bucky leaned against the door, his face concerned.

"They told you they would be little monsters, didn't they?" asked Tracey. "That the changes in John would transfer over and make them unmanageable."

"They knew about the Siberian super soldiers," stated Bucky. "They were unmanageable because those people were already hardened killers, with no sense of empathy, or feeling about what they were doing. The serum amplified it. Olivia, you know what John did in Latvia."

Olivia nodded. "He tried to brush it off as justified but I knew. The things he had to do in the military really messed with his head. You have to believe me, he is a good person, deep down but after Afghanistan he was suffering. He tried to hide it from me, but I knew. After he took the serum, I could see he was different. At the time he wanted to believe he did it for the best of reasons but the things that Val had him do since then made him think that he wasn't a good man, and he began to question it. You were the only one he could talk to about it, the only one that would understand."

"He needs help," said Bucky. "Professional help. I talked to him on the phone before I phoned you." Olivia looked at him, surprised. "I can't forgive him yet but I will help him. First of all, he has to be honest with himself and with you. Until he does that, nothing I say will make a difference."

"The baby, was it planned or accidental?" she asked.

"Completely an accident," smiled Tracey. "I had an IUD, which moved, making the pregnancy possible." She looked at Bucky. "Being the first woman pregnant with a super soldier baby means that I'm going to be monitored closely. I'm a nurse so I get the medical and scientific reasons for it but honestly, a part of me is worried. There have already been some things in me that have changed. I heal faster, just like Bucky. It's made me wonder if I'll get some super strength or other abilities as the baby's hormones flood my body. Will we be enough to make sure he or she grows up to be a good person? I do know this much; that baby is going to be loved unconditionally by me and Bucky. If you're raised with love then that should be enough, right? I grew up with an abusive father but my mother always made sure that I knew she loved me and I'm going to do the same with my child."

"Well, it's obvious that you two are going to be great parents," said Olivia. "I noticed today how welcoming you were to everyone, Bucky. The fact that the other Avengers came to your side so quickly when they took you shows me that you're a good man. So there is hope for John."

Her eyes glistened as she looked up at the ceiling for a moment, then wiped a few tears that came out of her eyes. Bucky pulled a tissue out of a box for her and she took it gratefully. After a few more minutes gathering herself Olivia stood up and the three of them returned to the dining room. No one appeared to be uncomfortable with her outburst. Instead, it felt nurturing to her and as the meal went on the conversation took on more happy overtones. By the time it was over Bucky had everyone laughing at how surprised he was the first time he met Peter, during the fight at Leipzig Airport.

"Here's this little guy, in a spider costume," said Bucky. "I go to punch him, pulling my punch because he's so small compared to me and I didn't know how strong he really was then he grabs my metal hand and stops it. What did you say?"

"You have a metal arm? That is awesome, dude!" repeated Peter, smiling. "It was the coolest thing and I wanted to look at it, you know, figure out how it worked."

"What really surprised me is when he said the words it was obvious he was a kid!" exclaimed Bucky. "How old were you?"

"15, no 14, because my birthday wasn't for another couple of months," smiled Peter, who then shrugged. "I knew you were strong. I mean we saw a lot of what you did on the news, right? You know I didn't want to hurt you or Sam, right?"

"Same here," replied Bucky. "I was trying to prove I wasn't the Winter Soldier anymore, that I could control myself. You made it difficult, showing both of us up like that."

"It all worked out," said the younger man. "You're a good guy now."

"Amen to that," said Rhodes. "Funny how time and a little perspective can change things. I was one of the first people to sign the Sokovia Accords but by the time Thanos came I could see they were very flawed. I showed up in Wakanda, saw Bucky walking towards me with a new arm and a big smile on his face when he saw Cap, old Cap. You were a changed man, Bucky. Under the old accords that would never have happened. You would have been left to rot in the Raft or a mental hospital. That would have been a tragedy." He noticed a downturn in the atmosphere and smiled, picking up his drink. "Let's make a toast. Look at life with an open heart and an open mind. Be open to love and new perspectives. Be true to yourself and enjoy the company of friends. Here's to all my friends, including the new ones I've made tonight."

He drank his wine, and the others followed suit with their drinks. Bucky announced that the men would be cleaning up. Half an hour later they all looked at the games that were brought and chose to play Uno Extreme. It was loud, raucous, and they all laughed whenever someone who had called Uno for last card pressed the button getting a handful of cards spit out at them, denying them the opportunity to win the hand. Rebecca ended up winning the game, proving age was not a factor in playing cutthroat style against one's friends. The next game was Pictionary, which was still fun but didn't last long as Tracey remembered It's a Wonderful Life was on.

"Isn't that an old movie?" asked Ned, who had crumpled up paper balls thrown at him for insulting the older people in the house.

As they watched it, everyone said the popular lines out loud, but at the end they were all quiet, feeling good about the sentiments it brought out. Olivia announced she was going to go home, as she had promised to visit John first thing the next morning. Rebecca took out a plastic container, filling it with turkey, salad, and rolls. Then she filled another one with baked treats.

"You take this to John," she said. "I'm sure it will be better tasting than what he got there. You give him my regards."

The others decided it would be a good time for them to go as well as they had a long drive back to Queens. Rebecca made up a couple of containers for them as well while Bucky promised he could come and look at the stove to figure out what was wrong with it. After they were gone Bucky and Rhodes looked questioningly at each other deciding it was the right time to go for that cigar and a scotch. While Tracey and Rebecca both went to bed, Janice stayed up finishing the last bit of clean up.

Outside, on the back steps the two men lit their cigars and looked at the backyard awash in the fairy lights that were still on. As they took the first puff of their cigars Rhodes looked at the illegal item in his fingers.

"You're right, these are too good not to have." He waved his hand towards the fairy lights. "That's really pretty. Did they have stuff like that in the 1930s?"

"Nah, candles, or a kerosene lantern, maybe," replied Bucky. "I miss the music and my parents, obviously. It was a slower pace but I like living now."

"I understand you could have gone back," said Rhodes. "Why didn't you?"

"Steve asked," said Bucky. "But the vibranium arm was just too different to explain. Plus, if HYDRA saw me suddenly show up they may have come after me again. I never was as good as Steve blending into the background." He took a puff on the cigar, watching the smoke as he blew out into the air. "I was changed, as well. Before, I was mostly about the party, dancing, drinking, finding a girl to chase until I caught her."

"You never considered marriage?" asked Rhodes.

"No, not really. I wasn't ready and they knew as I made it clear I was just looking for fun." He took a sip of his whiskey and closed his eyes as the liquid flowed down his throat, tasting the different notes in the vintage. "When I began living with Rebecca, I was too busy trying to keep the house, and look after her, to consider dating. When I met Tracey, I knew she was special. I wanted to be with her, in a meaningful way." He took another puff of his cigar. "What about you?"

"Married to the military," replied Rhodes. "I knew Tony from college, as I'm an engineer myself, and he had more than enough women for me to take his leftovers. It was fun, until it wasn't. The accident made me rethink a lot of things that I took for granted before. Still can't believe I'm in charge of the Avengers."

"You'll be alright," said Bucky. "Maria Hill knows the layout. I think you can depend on her the same way Fury did. I think Sam has a thing for her."

Rhodes turned his head towards Bucky, raising his eyebrows. "Really? She's a smart woman and deadly with a gun. He's a good Cap. Hell, they're all good. They all showed up, except Hope because she had a suit failure. Even the new ones, Shaun, Shang Chi, and Kate Bishop, the new Hawkeye." He smirked. "She's got the goods. We're the United Nations of superheroes. It's going to be an interesting time."

Bucky raised his glass to him and drank some of his scotch. The two men sat there talking until their cigars were ready to be put out. The house was quiet when they went back inside. After showering Bucky quietly entered his bedroom, wearing only a towel around his waist. He dropped his clothes in the hamper, as they smelled of cigars. Opening the drawers of the dresser to get some clean underwear and light sweatpants to wear he was startled when Tracey spoke.

"Don't get dressed," she said. "Just get into bed."

Never one to question when a woman told him to get into bed with her Bucky did as he was told, receiving a seductive kiss from his wife. As the kiss led to other more pleasurable activities the super soldier felt like he was the luckiest of men. He had an incredible wife, a child on the way, a job that was important and fulfilling, and most of all, he wasn't alone any more. There were friends, family, co-workers, and neighbours who were invested in him, enough to stand with him when he was in trouble. So much was going to happen in the coming year and he was so ready for all of it.

"Bring it on," he thought.

Chapter 26>>

Series Masterlist

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[deepdisireslonging]

Nautical November Part 3: The Captain's First Payment

The Reader wakes up in Dean’s bed after he’s spent all night navigating the ship. She decides to wish him a good morning.

Pairing: Captain!Dean x Reader

Warnings/Promises: SMUT, oral (both receiving)

Word Count: 1850

Note: This was supposed to be a ficlet like what I did last year. Oops. Reblogs and comments appreciated. Happy reading!

Part 2: Opening Introductions

The Gazelle was underway to Tortuga. It was a trip of almost twelve hundred miles. If Captain Dean had promised to sail you strait there, the trip would only take about a week. But he had a crew to keep happy. Stopping at ports, selling loot and taking on supplies, and giving them a day or two of rest along the way… it was going to take about a month.

You had wondered if the prolonged trip was so he could take more ‘payment’ from you. But, several days into the passage… he had yet to reach for you. His brother and first mate, Sam, hadn’t asked for anything yet either. Not since that first night. The threat of them taking you back north to ransom you to your father was always hovering in the back of your mind. Had Captain Raphael thought about it, or was it entirely their idea and something they would do?

Yesterday’s navigation plans had put your mind to ease. Dean, Sam, and a scroungy little man named Crowley had poured over the maps on Dean’s desk. They had planned a course all the way into the Bahamas, cursing the amount of British and French ships that would be in their way.

You cursed, “bloody British,” in agreement at the delay. When Crowley looked up, you apologized, only then attempting to place his accent. “I meant no offense.”

“There was none taken, love. I’m Irish.” He nodded at her and spat into the tin next to the desk. “Bloody British.”

Dean had taken most of the night to take into account the tides, gauntlet of military ships, amount of supplies and how long they’d last, and a whole list of concerns that soon wore you out. Several times you shifted, rolling over in his bed, only to see him continuing to pour over the maps. Eventually he joined you, curling you to his chest but sleeping like a rock.

He was sleeping so deep; he wasn’t even snoring when you woke up. You took your chance to really study him. The sea and night of worrying had done a number on his lips. They showed evidence of cracking and splitting. But the tallow he kept in the top side drawer in his desk had prevented too much damage. You had to appreciate this small vanity. The tallow made his lips soft and plump. Your mind began to wander… wondering when he’d finally touch those soft lips to your skin again. It was like you could feel them traveling across your neck, down the valley of your breasts. Breathing heavily, your hips rolled. After a few passes, Dean’s hips began to meet yours.

Slowly, you reached over to rest your palm over the hard bulge in his pants. The weight of the weaponry he housed there made your mouth water. You glanced up. He was still sound asleep.

How long would he sleep if you took what you wanted?

Maybe you shouldn’t. After all, he’d been awake most of the night.

But Sam’s bed was empty. He was taking a turn to watch from the crow’s nest on the mainmast.

Dean’s hips rolled, seeking out the warmth from your hand. You gave it to him. The bulge warmed and lengthened as he swelled to full mast. He grunted in his sleep. You considered it a mercy to undo the ties at the front of his pants. It had to be uncomfortable to keep all that out of sight. Dean’s sleepy sigh agreed as you brought him out into the open.

It was a good thing he wasn’t awake. Or you would have made the scourge of the sea tremble with the mischief that began to glimmer in your eyes.

Gently, and doing your best not to jostle him too much, you slid down the bed until your face was level with your target. You needn’t have worried. This was a pirate. A man of the sea. He was asleep in his own cabin, rocked to sleep by his own ship.

Those pretty lips parted with a breath as your mouth kissed from tip to base and back again. His hips rolled as you finally took him into your mouth. The weight of him was delicious. Humming in delight, you sucked him as far down as you could go, twisting your fingers around the rest. His thighs tensed under your cheek. Taking a deep breath, you squeezed your thumb deep into your palm and swallowed further than before.

“Christ, woman.” Dean’s green eyes popped open. Startled but happy to see you, he hurried to catch his breath.

You slid off his cock with a pop. “Good morning.”

He nodded with a smirk. “Yeah. ’Mornin’.” His voice devolved into groans as you hollowed and sucked your mouth around him. Arching, he threw his head back into the thin pillows. “What – fuck – what brought this on? Not that I’m complaining.”

Kissing the inside of his thigh, you batted your eyelashes at him. “Call it traveler’s assurance. I wanted to make sure you didn’t take Captain Raphael’s idea and take me back north.”

“Don’t you trust me?”

“Not an inch, Captain.”

You did your best to pull those desperate sounds out of him again. He gave them willingly. And whole-heartedly. At one point, you guided his hand into your hair, giving his twitching hand permission to guide you. But all he did was curl his fingers into your locks. Like he needed to ground himself against the storm of pleasure you were putting him through. All the while you watched how his lips trembled. How they parted with sighs and groans.

And he watched you. Your eyes. Your cheeks shining with the heat of your task. And he watched your lips, memorizing how it looked to have them stretched around him. He pleaded for a breath when you lightly scraped your teeth along his underside.

“Is this how you got caught?”

You sucked lightly as you pulled off his length. “No. It was how we started. But we’d moved on to me riding him.” You shook your head, smiling at the memory. “We were both too loud. I was yanked off his lap before we could finish. Just as well.” You shrugged.

Dean reached back to flatten his hand against the wall as you stroked and squeezed him. “Was – easy woman… was he your first?”

You swirled your thumb over his head with a smirk. “He was the first I opened to, yes. But I was our town’s best kept secret when it came to… handshakes, shall we say.” To prove your point, you turned your grip so your thumb could reach the spot where his balls met the bottom of his cock. You giggled as Dean choked out a whine. “Funny. My father had hoped I’d marry that boy. Maybe I was trying to seal the deal. Maybe I was looking to have my say-so in the matter. But when it all came out, he was the victim of my wiles, and I was… disposed. Considered a ruin.” Your stroking slowed before coming to a stop.

Gently, Dean reached to pet your cheek. “Their loss.”

“Maybe.” You pushed the memories aside, shifting to watching Dean as you leaned back to the matter at hand. “My gain.”

He groaned into his fist as you continued. It didn’t take much longer before he spilled into your mouth. Due to your earlier need to keep your secret, you were well practiced in swallowing it all. Dean was impressed and awed when you showed him your bare tongue. “If you work half as good as that in your commission, I’ll never get to see you again. You’ll have high-end clients lined out the door.”

Warm as your cheeks already were, they warmed further with the compliment. “Perhaps.” When Dean reached up, you lolled your head into his palm. But petting you wasn’t what he had in mind. Instead, he guided you to lay back. You sat up as he began to crawl down your body. “What are you doing?”

“Returning the favor.”

“But… you – I – I thought…”

“You thought what?” He smirked. “Sweetheart, I can smell you from here.” But when you held your thighs together, he tilted his head in confusion. “I take it none of those boys, ah, gave back what you gifted them?” You shook your head. Dean’s eyebrows flexed with irritation. “Why am I surprised? Well, I can’t just leave you like this. May I?” He leaned down, nuzzling his nose over your tummy.

You bit your bottom lip. “You – you don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

He lightly glared at you. “I want to taste every drop of nectar that’s leaking out between your thighs right now. Either I get what I want, or I drop you off at the next port and you can swim yourself down there. Savvy?” He smiled as you laid back into the sheets.

Whatever you thought you were expecting, it was not what you received. Captain Winchester was an expert lover. As he curled a finger into your heat in tandem with his tongue, you tossed up a prayer of thanks to anyone who was listening. Maybe it was luck. Maybe it was fate. But something wonderful had taken place to plant you in his path so he could do this to you.

Smug, he commanded you to make as much noise as you wanted. If the crew was going to hear anything, he didn’t care. If they asked, you needed the practice before joining the roster at the Ambrosia. He took his time. Just as he would hunt out a heavy ship to rob, he hunted out the places that made you quake. That made your body tremble and clamp around his fingers. He found places inside you that blinded you. All the while, he sucked on the button above your slit.

“Captain,” you whined. You dug your fingers into his hair. He growled back, delving his tongue deeper into your sex than you thought possible. Your sounds increased in pitch, soaring high with pleasure. Before long, he had you crying out. Your thighs clamped around his head, making him chuckle into your sex. You twitched as he gave your wetness one last deep suck.

He crawled over you, delighted by the way you shivered with release under him. “Alright. I have a feeling your clients won’t take such good care of you. If you want an even playing field like that,” he kissed at the underside of your jaw, “maybe you’ll let me slip through your window once or twice. How does half-price sound?”

“You never miss a chance to make a deal, do you Captain?”

“Nuh-uh.”

With a giggle, you curled into his chest. “I’ll think about it.” The amused puff of air washed over your face. You hummed, closing your eyes. By the way you continued to feel his breath on your face, you knew he was watching you fall asleep. Just before you drifted off, you laid your hand on his cheek and guided his eyes shut too.

Masterlist

***

Part 4: Hold Your Tongue

No Cum November 2023

[spacebeyonce]

📚dom's library: may wrap up📚

alright! wrap up for all the books I've read (or tried to read) in may. I was able to read soooo many books (13!!! 13 books!!!) thanks to the libby app and my job letting us listen to stuff through our headphones. I haven't read this many books since high school!

this will be a bit long, because I'm not going to be short about these books, so. bear with me! june's will probably be a smaller list lmao. and I will try my best to be spoiler free in my reviews!

anyway! let's get into it.

5 - 4 ⭐:

👻 how to sell a haunted house by grady hendrix (5��)

after the sudden death of her parents, louise has to return to charleston to deal with her parents' estate and her insufferable younger brother mark, who she's been estranged from for years. as they sift through their childhood home, laden with memories and puppets, mark and louise discover that this house has more than the puppets and dolls for them to handle.

lord, this book. I've liked most of grady hendrix's books so far, but this one really got me. I loved this! I had so much fun listening to it! it was giving goosebumps energy and I LOVED that, I was LIVING.

it was funny, it was scary, and it was horribly sad when I didn't expect it to be. when I tell you that I finished this audiobook quietly sobbing at my work desk I am not bullshitting you. how to sell a haunted house is a reminder for why I do not fuck with puppets or dolls.

🌆 if beale street could talk by james baldwin (5⭐)

nineteen years old, clementine (mainly known as tish) is in love with her childhood friend alfonzo (mainly known as fonny), and has recently discovered that she is pregnant with his child. they plan to marry, but then fonny is imprisoned for a crime that he did not commit. with the clock ticking down until the birth of their child, tish and her family work in an effort to clear fonny's name and get him out of jail.

AAAAH!!! this BOOK!!! I had borrowed it on a whim 'cause I'm interested in watching the movie adaptation, but was curious to see how the book went before that. and jesus christ.

this was so.....like when I reached the end, I felt very.....incomplete?? the open ending jarred me a little, but I definitely didn't hate it! I would have liked a concrete ending, a true conclusion, but the uncertainty the book ended on...it felt real. realistic. it stung a bit.

I loved reading tish and fonny fall in love, and my GOD did they fall - they love each other so ardently, so completely!! the devotion they have for each other, my goodness. it definitely stole my breath a few times.

and their families!!! the way most of them went above and beyond to do what they can and get fonny out of jail!! the full, open support they have for tish and her pregancy!! the absolute love and joy her family has at welcoming a new life into the world oh my goddddd. I believe in love y'all, I truly do.

🚢 into the raging sea by rachel slade (5⭐)

on october 1st, 2015, hurricain joaquin struck the bahamas and sank the cargo ship el faro, taking all thirty three lives on board. after interviews with family of the crew, maritime experts, and using the last twenty six hours of audio captured on the el faro's last voyage, rachel slade recounts the final hours of the crew of the el faro and casts a critical light on the maritime shipping industry, and how lives were sacrificed for profit.

okaaaaay, so I mentioned a while back that I get really focused on a certain shipwreck every now and then. for the last couple months, thanks to the well there's your problem podcast, I've been ridiculously fixated on the sinking of the s.s. el faro back in 2015 - a cargo ship that sailed directly into the eye of a cat 3 hurricane and got its shit rocked. when I heard this book mentioned, I had to see if it was available to listen to. and it was!!!

I'm embarrassed to admit it, but it takes a lot for me to get into a non-fiction book - and this one had me riveted. this disaster really was just one little mistake after another, until it became a domino effect that they couldn't escape. I think this has gripped me so because it was so preventable. this didn't have to happen! if the ship was in a better state, if the captain pulled his head out of his ass and listened to his crew, if tote maritime company wasn't so fixated on profit that the people working on these ships become collateral, like....!! 🗣️EL PROBLEMA ES CAPITALISMO!!! and fuck climate change!!!

⛪ transcendent kingdom by yaa gyasi (5⭐)

gifty, a sixth year phd student, is taking on the care of her mother, who is so depressed she can't get out of bed. gifty is studying neuroscience, trying to understand how the brain is affected by depression and addiction - for her mother, and for her brother, nana, who died of an overdose after becoming addicted to pain medication. while dealing with this loss and the decline of her mother, gifty is also grappling with her faith, raised in an evangelical household and trying to reconcile all the pain she has lived through with the peace and salvation she was promised through the church.

my review for this book was simply that I felt flayed open. that this book carved my chest open, cracked apart my ribs and peered inside. gifty's thoughts and struggles when it came to christianity were so like my own that I was genuinely shaken. her questions, her doubts, her feelings and hoping and wanting - I've felt all of that, too. all of it!

in gifty I truly see so much of myself. her struggles with religion and faith, and especially the loss of faith in the face of loss. of praying so much, praying so hard for a loved one to get well, to live on, and then it just...not happening. nothing can cut your faith quicker than that.

her relationship with her mother as well like goddamn godDAMN....that same kind of tough love. that same wild devotion to god. that same ability to just say the most cutting, out of pocket shit about you out of NOWHERE....gifty you are stronger than the us marines. doubly so because she also had to deal with ALABAMA. ALABAMA!!! AND A WHITE ASS TOWN TOO!!! STRENGTH!!!!

🦢 the beautiful ones by silvia moreno-garcia (5⭐)

a regency-esque story based in fantasy france with a sprinkle of magic, we follow the stories of antonina beaulieu, hector auvray, and valerie beaulieu as they deal with the grand season and all that entails. antonina, hoping to find love like the ones she's read in stories - and also hoping to outrun the rumors about her due to her telekinetic powers. hector, a telekinetic preformer that has returned to loisail after ten years with one goal in mind: to win back the heart of his first love - the crown jewel of loisail, valerie beaulieu.

when I tell you that this book had me KICKING MY FEET and GIGGLING!!! I AM A HECTOR/NINA TRUTHER, I BELIEVE!! it was so sweet?? and romantic?? and I love a good second chance romance, though it doesn't fall under what that trope usually means. but it was so sweet!! that's all I can say over and over and over, I just. it was love prevailing despite the odds. nina was so bright and earnest and true to herself, and hector had such a quiet sweetness beneath all that melancholy.

and valerie. bro she is so cersei-core I am SICK. the desire to have the power that your name once held, the resentment of having to follow the whims of what's expected of you and not what you want, looking down on other women and holding yourself above them, loving someone so fiercely and madly that it kind of twists into hate like!!! cersei lannister core!!! this woman was NASTY work and I LOVED her.

I do wish that hector and nina's powers were explored a little more? like....what's the magic system. how did these powers happen. are there other people with powers. but it didn't bring down the story for me! I really loved this, I was swooning.

🌊 river woman, river demon by jennifer givhan (4.75⭐)

eva santos moon is a wife, mother, artist - and witch, practicing brujeria and curanderisma in honor of her late mother. eva has hit a low point in her life - inspiration has left her, she's suffering from blackouts and memory issues, and her connection to her magic feels distant. on top of all this, she is haunted by the death of a beloved childhood friend that happened many years ago, and memories of her are stirring when her husband is incarcerated as a suspect for the murder of their friend, eva must do her best to hold her family together and free her husband - even though she doesn't believe he's as innocent as he claims...

this book bro.....this fuckin' book. it was - I loved the mystery! the connection between the death of her friends, past and present. but the main character?? eva??? she drove me up the fucking wall.

she was so deep in her goddamn head it was genuinely wild as a mf. like, when her husband says something that read SO CLEARLY to me that he wanted his wife to BELIEVE IN HIM she's just like 'oh is he accusing me, is he saying I'm the bad guy here' like my sister in christ!!! pull your head out of your ass for five seconds and trust in your man!!! and oh my GOD her man.

jericho is a fine fine fine slice of chocolate cake. he is steady, he is warm and inspiring, hardworking and devoted. he is ten toes DOWN for eva, he is UNSHAKEABLE for her. and she just doubts and doubts and doubts. and I KNOW it's for the character journey. but like bitch if you're gonna mistrust your husband like this then I'LL take him, shit!!

aside from that, this book was SO good. I really enjoyed the mystery plot throughout, and when everything started coming together I was literally screaming in the car at every twist and reveal like broooooo. excellent book. but get your shit together eva.

3 - 2 ⭐:

🎸 we sold our souls by grady hendrix (3.25⭐)

twenty years after the end of metal band durt wurk, former guitarist kris polaski is miserable. her job is terrible, she has no money, no friends, and no music in her. on top of all that, kris gets news that chills her to the bone - terry hunt, her old bandmate and the man who cast his bandmates off to go solo is going on a farewell tour and bringing his band koffin to a close. pushed to finally confront terry and demand answers for his abandonment, kris decides to try and reunite her bandmates, knowing the risk - knowing that they might still hate her, for what she did. but on the way, kris finds out that terry might have given away more than just durt wurk's sucess in his effort to rise to the top.

okay so like most of the grady hendrix books I've read so far, this was good! but it definitely wasn't the best of his books for me. that crown is deserved for how to sell a haunted house. but we sold our souls is a pretty fun romp, that definitely had some chilling moments that made you paranoid right along with kris. you couldn't trust the people around you. you never knew who - or what - might be watching.

and there was a part 68% in that was so upsetting that I just closed the audiobook and hopped out the libby app. like I was done for the day, shit was rough.

but at the end of the day, this did end up being pretty mid for me. I also did not appreciate all the microagressions made about black artists and black music. could have done without that!

🌱 parable of the sower by octavia butler (3.25⭐)

in the distant future of 2024, the united states has crumbled due to climate change. resources are scarce, good water is hard to find, and people are willing to do anything and everything to make sure they can survive. at fifteen, lauren olamina lives in a community with her family, gated off and secluded from the outside dangers. lauren also struggles with hyperempathy, taking on the pain of others to a debilitating degree, and though their community is surviving, lauren knows that the security they have made for themselves won't last, and that their community needs to be ready for when that day comes. and in her efforts to find hope in such a hopeless world, lauren tries to figure out god - and creates a new faith that she believes will one day lead them to the stars.

this book was fucking ROUGH bro like.....truly on some mad max shit where it's every man for themselves. honestly I got a little tired of it a little over halfway 'cause like. idk I just can't believe that people would inherently fall back to violence in these conditions. that we'd all do what we can to help each other...I dunno. but shit was bleak! and there was a lot of sexual assault of women and girls, which I didn't appreciate. once again, probably because I cannot believe that humanity as a whole would just be so violent. but hey!

also - that relationship that happened at the end?? you know the one. what the hell was that. what is it with octavia butler and these damn age gaps jesus christ.

all in all, it was a solid middle of the road read for me. it was a little disorienting to read this in 2024, but still enlightening somewhat. idk if I'll read the next book any time soon though.

🍎 ripe by sarah rose etter (2.5⭐)

one year into her job at a startup in silicone valley, cassie is struggling; work eats away at her, long hours surrounded by coworkers and supervisors that look down and disrespect her. she barely has friends and she's making it by the skin of her teeth in an expensive city that she hates. she's lonely - but never alone, her constant, unending companion a black hole that's been with her since childhood, ebbing and flowing depending on her anxiety and depression. when her job starts demanding actions of the dubiously ethical variety and she suddenly finds herself in the family way, cassie has to decide if a life in san francisco is truly what she wants.

besties I fucking hated this book. it was literally just seven hours of this woman bitching and moaning and woe is me-ing but not really making any changes until the last fucking second. she thinks she's better than the people she works with, but still marches to their drum, pulling some pretty sketch shit against a rival startup and bringing a pakistani man into this bullshit company, knowing that he's going to get screwed, all while playing the world's smallest goddamn violin for herself. ain't that just like a white woman, smh.

and I'm sure that's the point of this book. I understand! this is supposed to be a critique on capitalism, on hustle culture, on work and how it drains the life out of you and demands so much of you only to give so little in return. I get it! truly!

but baby I am not connecting with this white woman languishing in silicon valley, throwing a whole pity party for herself but doing nothing to better her situation. I am a firm believer of hitting the fucking bricks when a situation is ass. there are better jobs out there with better coworkers in more affordable places. these people don't care about you. Real Winners Quit.

the ending was also ambiguous as a mf and I don't care enough about cassie to feel a type of way about it. my good sis, go to therapy. you can't cocaine your way out of everything.

....now I feel like even two stars is generous. hm.

0️⃣ unrated:

⛵ deep as the sky, red as the sea by rita chang-eppig

after the death of her pirate husband by portuguese sailors, shek yeung has to act fast in order to retain her power over the red pirate fleet. agreeing to marry her late husband's second in command and bear a child, shek yeung also has to contend with greater threats as china's emperor increases efforts to remove pirates entirely from the south china seas.

this book is p much based on the life of ching shih, one of the baddest female pirates to ever do it. the story was tense, with a lot of political intrigue when it came to the pirates and the different colored fleets. shek yeung is a boss ass protagonist, a woman that was made hard because of the bullshit life threw at her, but she kept her wits about her and made the best decisions she could to come out on top - and alive.

I think if I would rate this after the fact I'd give it a solid 4.75⭐! a very easy read, but tw for sexual assault - that is a big part of some of the main characters' backstories (shek yeung and the second in command specifically). the ending was a little sad, but all in all an enjoyable book.

🍄 sorrowland by rivers solomon

vern is fifteen and seven months pregnant when she escapes from the religious compound she was made to call home, fleeing deep into the woods for safety. she births her children there, and plans to raise them wild and free - but there are changes happening to her body. changes that she can't explain. and to understand the changes and protect her children, vern will have to return to the one place that she had desperately wanted to escape.

this one, oh man. what a fuckin' ride it was. vern is one of those characters that are very...prickly. she's always got her defenses up and is ready to snap at you quick fast in a hurry, and I love her. she was wild, and her twin babies are adorable - and their names are very interesting haha!

there's also a sapphic romance, which was really sweet! I was concerned for a while that I had run into another couple with a huge age gap, but it wasn't! thank fuck. parable of the sower was enough.

the story has a lot going on - examination of religion and how it can be used to exploit people that have been left behind by the world, a bit of supernatural scifi, human experimentation, and finding love and community and connection despite it all, despite trying so damn hard to make yourself an island. if I rated it now....4.25⭐

🌕 daughter of the moon goddess by sue lynn tan

all her life, xingyin has been raised in secret; living on the moon with her mother, the goddess chang'e, who was exiled to the moon for stealing an elixir of immortality, her existence has been hidden from the celestial emperor - but one can't stay hidden forever. when her existence is discovered, xingyin is forced to leave behind the only home she has ever known, and ends up in the celestial kingdom. alone and afraid, xingyin decides that she will do whatever it takes to return home - and to free her mother from her lunar prison.

I read this book because I am a sucker for pretty covers and BOY does this one deliver. I had a fun time with this book, though the prose did get a little heavy at times. but I think this is the author's first book ever? so I gave a little grace. it wasn't crazy distracting or anything lmao.

but whew! this book had a lot going on. the magic system of this world was pretty fuckin' neat, and it was cool to see xingyin find her footing in this new world and do her best to achieve her goals! I was rooting for her. there is, unfortunately, a love triangle, and it was annoying, but mostly because I am too old for that shit lmao. I was also ridiculously annoyed at how she spend like 20% of the book being a hardass to one of the love interests because of something that happened OUT OF HIS CONTROL and is kinda connected to HIS JOB but whatever. whatever!

I'll probably read the sequel as well, but not anytime soon! until then, my rating now would be....4⭐

🌿 the daughters of temperance hobbs by katherine howe

connie goodwin is a professor at a university in boston, specializing in america's history with witchcraft. a successful scholar, connie is more connected to the history of witchcraft in america than she'd like to admit - a direct descendant of a woman that was tried as a witch during the trials in salem. a series of events force connie to realize that her partner's life may be in danger, a curse tracing through her bloodline, killing any man that falls in love with a woman in her family. with time slowly running out, connie must confront her family's past, and solve the mystery behind the curse that has plagued her family for generations.

oh this one was FUN, y'all. I ate this book up quick! and apparently it's the second book in a series?? I had no idea! it stands well enough on its own that honestly I don't think I need to read the first one to understand what's going on. the main character, connie, tried my goddamn patience lmao. she is the prime example of people that are so deep in academia that their relationships kinda suffer for it. like talk to your man girl!! talk to him about this damn curse!!! and the [redacted]!!! you can't just think that he can READ YOUR MIND and just KNOW like GIRRLLLLLL.

speaking of her man, sam is just a delight. truly a darling. by the end of the book I was just like god when will it be my turn. WHEN WILL IT BE MY TURN??? GOD

I also really liked the flashbacks to women in connie's family line, they were all cool as hell - especially temperance! she was neat.

and zazie.....the only woman of color in a sea of white nonsense. she is stronger than any us marine because she is a woman of color doing grad school in a predominantly white college. I know she has been through things that would make connie's hair turn white. you deserve everything you want sis, you truly do.

and I thiiiink.....4.5⭐, if I rated this book now.

🕯️ black candle women by diane marie brown

the montrose women have been living contentedly in a california bungalow for years, keeping mostly to themselves. their lives have been calm - until the youngest montrose, nickie, brings home a boy and throws their world into disarray. because the boy is a reminder. a reminder of a secret that they have kept from nickie for years - a curse. a curse that if a man falls in love with a montrose woman, then they're destined to die.

this is basically in the same vein as the daughters of temperance hobbs but with black women and black magical culture. and I LOVED it. all of the women in the montrose family - augusta, victoria, willow, and nickie - are so vibrant. they all butt heads, of course, but at the end of the day there's still love.

victoria was a little triggering at times lmao mostly because she really reminded me of my own mom at times, and LORD do we butt heads. it was worse when I was a teenager, so I really felt for nickie when her mother started tightening that leash. and willowwwww oh my god I loved herrrr. she was so chill and so full of love. and augusta! she may not be able to physically speak, but that doesn't stop her from speaking her mind!

I absolutely recommend this - if you want a story about generations of black women working through misunderstandings, beating a curse that has dogged their heels for years, and loving each other despite the bumps along the way, then read this!! read it!! if I rated this now, I think I'm giving it a solid 5⭐

❌ DNF:

💀 gideon the ninth by tamsyn muir

reason for DNF: the writing made me wanna die a little? it was very like.....if you like homestuck and think it's still funny, then this book will work for you. it did not work for me. also, all the fucking names were so hard to keep track of. but mostly it was just the writing - all those quips! I am not a teenager, this shit isn't funny to me anymore please relax.

🏡 the haunting of hill house by shirley jackson

reason for DNF: I just didn't like the audiobook 😭, I'm gonna try and check out a physical copy when I can...I think I'll like it more if I'm actually READING it.

and that's it! that's my may wrapup! this was more work than I expected, whew. but! if anyone gives these books a read, or has read them before, let me know your thoughts!

[lunarsilkscreen]

Minimum Wage, and beyond

Let's use any store for an example:

Minimum wage is set at $15 an hour.

In order to break even, which is arguably the entire point of a business to begin with. You need to pay your employees hours worked.

That means you need to sell 2 $10 sandwiches an hour per employee. You make cost of ingredients AND pay that employee.

Now, back in the day before utilities were a thing: water, power, refrigeration, ectera... You didn't need EXTRA to pay the utilities. It wasn't a thing. That's why bartering worked, because the shopkeep could sell goods to the next sap to walk in the door.

And, besides from the assholes, rent wasn't a thing. You bought a plot of land, took out a loan to hire a carpenter and built your house and business on the same spot, called it a day. (Or got some buddies and some brewskis and did it yourselves.)

There's building codes, and inspectors, and utilities, and you have to worry about termites, carpenter ants, other pests, mold, mildew, ASBESTOS!

You gotta pay all *that* on top of the doctor that owns the business that you manage for him while he's in the Bahamas. He's never there, he rarely checks in, he just wants to foot the bill for a continuous dividend.

And shit if you fuck it up, or the business is in a location with no foot traffic. (And since it's to expensive to go outside, now you only interface with people delivering to other people! And those other people will give you a bad review when they inevitably receive their food cold.

Did I mention it was good for nothing doctors that recommended asbestos in the first place as a miracle insulation?

So how the f* are you supposed to make enough money to pay yourself, your employees, and your boss AND STILL HAVE ENOUGH TO PAY UTILITIES!

And on top of *that* what's the next step since you don't work for a corporate infrastructure that has hierarchy beyond *some doctor who owns this place*?

Unless you manage to figure out how to convince the doctor landlord to pay you a bonus for making astronomical returns, this is it buddy. This is your life.

I hope you enjoy Pizza.

So how is it possible that anybody make more than that? How is it, that somebody can get a loan of A BILLION DOLLARS. Refuse to pay it back, and then not go to jail? Is it because you'd have to be an idiot to loan out that much? Well if you got that much to lend, it must be fine.

In America, "pawn stars" has ensured that bartering is like an old fashioned nearly ancient way to make money. Goods are money, disposable items means you can't sell anything. Hell, I've never seen anything at a garage sale go for more than a couple bucks.

The goods as currency just doesn't work if everybody is just waiting to "storage wars" your old stuff when you can't pay your mortgage anymore. It's not value, it's icing for land owners and banks.

So tell me, how is value store supposed to work for the average person? We need to spend money to eat, and for the economy to work, it's mathematically impossible to make ends meet at a business that sells food if the local population doesn't come eat at your establishment.

On a macro scale, what we have isn't working at all.

It wasn't working when minimum wage was $7 it isn't working with minimum wage at $15. We checked the math twice.

How do you ensure an employee can afford room and board, and still have time to participate in politics to ensure a working government and economy?

That is the questions we're trying to answer as we look at the entire system from a macro perspective.

We have to ensure that the plumbers, and the farmers, and the electricians and the mechanics can all get paid a living wage, but they cannot if there is nobody who can afford their services.

So how do we make sure, that the "dirty jobs" that "nobody wants to do" actually have demand for use, AND return on investment to the individual doing them?

I think, that it should be illegal for a residential unit to be used on AirBnB. I think, that they should have to be zoned like regular inns and hotels. I also think, that if somebody who *owns* the house they're living in, or you know, has a mortgage. Then you should mind your own damn business if they have an OnlyFans. unless they're keeping you up at night, or out in the streets, I don't think you should care.

I also think that rental housing should also follow the same rules for Hotels and apartments. They should be zoned for that, and they shouldn't count towards the theoretical residential housing that the city thinks they have.

At the very least, it'll ensure that there's a supply of people nearby to buy pizza from Dr. Pizza's Pizza and Law office.

And you'll be able to keep track of your homelessness issue.

[iampikachuhearmeroar]

y'know, van lifer family vloggers are a scourge on society already. but i've got a new one lately: boat life family vloggers. so over the last week on facebook watch/video, i've started to get a young aussie couple, say in their early 30s, trying to convince people that living on a catamaran, sailing around the world is the peak of living sustainably and "beating the housing crisis" and "living the life they want" etc etc etc, all the usual mantras of van lifer family vloggers.

i don't really know how old most of the videos in my feed are, but in a couple of the latest ones that i've watched, they have a toddler (say about 2 years old) and a 6 month old or something. I've been thinking, along side of a parody series of van lifer family videos that I watch on YT shorts, about how incredibly cramped this life is. just how much control these parents want over their kids. how lonely and isolating it will be for those kids once they're older, and need actual kids their age- not just their sibling (or siblings if these people want more kids that the two they've got)- to interact with outside of and away from their parents (and their brother rn- or sister/s if they have more kids). at one stage, right after they have their second kid, they're straight back on the boat like a week after the kid is born.

in one of the videos, they show you around a new boat that's about $1.5 million to buy. they show you all the rooms in it: the galley, the two bedrooms, the kitchen etc and the navigation deck. but in what i suppose is meant to be the master bedroom (it's a queen bed stuffed between 2 walls and a door, with two small overhead fans when it's hot)..... and there's a funny thing down the end of the bed for storage. the woman of the couple, who shows the viewers the room, goes "oh i could probs fit in here!!! *feet stick out as she tries to squeeze herself into a STORAGE UNIT* oh wait. no i can't fit in it. it really is storage. or y'know. you could fit a child in there, i suppose." like. kelsey or whatever your name is. why the fuck would you put a kid in there??? other than maybe you're nursing them and want them close. but still. it's A FUCKING STORAGE UNIT?????

but i digress. you're being "environmentally conscious". you're living off of solar power and "teaching our kids about the r E a L w O r L d!!!!! giving them a real education!!! letting them live a life that they'd NEVER have on the mainland of australia!!! look! we've sailed to the bahamas to meet another youtube travel couple!! look! our boat broke down in bali so now kelsey has a much needed break from the kids on the mainland of indonesia bc we've invited our family over to the conutry bc it's closer (and cheaper) than Hawaii, where we were a month ago!!!"

like. have you considered that maybe this isn't really healthy for your kids??? like you have the tiniest fucking shower "or if the weather's good, our shower is mother nature :).... using the crystal clear waters of barbados to wash ourselves!!!! isn't that just awesome and cool and unique!!!???" and "oh our boat batteries have died so now we HAVE to shack up at a marina to charge :(! this sucks, bc it's so much better to be right next to dolphins in the atlantic oceans for our little boys!!!! we hate being on any mainland really bc we're not being self-sufficient!!! but half the time we have to moor and go to the mainland of anywhere, to make sure we stock up on locally sourced, grass fed farmer's market stock and also long life food!!!"

anyway. you get my point. i don't think this channel is good for starters, considering that what if you have a massive fight, in which you need time to cool off AWAY from your partner??? even more esp when you have the two kids now??? you really have NO private space on this catamaran, even though they sell it as if they do. again, obvs they're not filming EVERYTHING so you don't know what goes on when the camera isn't on. but still. i think this lifestyle is all fun and games..... until you get kids in the picture.

i dont think it matters if your son atlas (the 2 year old) and your son ashwaganda (the baby) really see dolphins up close in the atlantic ocean vs an aqaurium or on a doplhin cruise back in australia. they do NOT need "real world living" at goddamned 2 YEARS OLD AND 6 MONTHS OLD!!!! they are CHILDREN. they need other kids to be around.... and in their immediate family back in australia...... not just with their parents..... and random kids that they might meet in whatever country you've sailed to.... for like a week. before you claim "it's been too long since we've had our sea legs and we're so restless to get back on the water to BE FREE and away from the hustle and bustle of *insert city here*.... even if it WAS a welcoming break for mummy and daddy. since daddy had the boys over in bali and mummy shoved you off on grandma while we had a retreat in bali."

it's just beyond me that they're selling themselves as an aspirational couple and how "to break free of the mainland of your country and trust your gut for family!!! be self-sufficient today and live the free-roaming, real world, carefree catamaran adventurer/vagabond life today with your kids in tow!!!!" NO!!! i can just imagine how much your kids will hate you if you continue to live this life when they're older than 2 years old and 6 months old.

[seabreeze2022]

2023 Bahama Cruise, Part 17. April 8. Wemyss, Long Island. (Sharie and James Knowles).

This was our night out on the island. A famous restaurant on the beach is Chez Pierre. A one man Chef restaurant from Montreal. He is notorious for being upset, if you don’t have a reservation and drop in. Even worse is being late for your reservation. It turns out this Island Soup Nazi (Seinfeld episode) has a great reason. He can only cook so fast and staggers the customers out. Nancy called and took the earliest time slot available. We have been anchored in a beautiful sandy beach cove, just in front of a round yellow house for two days. Nancy paddle boarded around the first day. Then we both got in the dinghy and went around the entire shore line, passing the yellow round house multiple times.

We were trying to get to an old plantation which we could see the only remaining chimney above the tree line. We stopped to asked directions from a guy working in front of his house. Turns out he moved here from Ramrod key in the florida Keys. We were unable to get to the ruins, but enjoyed walking the beach.

We pulled anchor and motored around to Millers Bay, just south of us. Anchoring in the bay directly in front of the French restaurant. We got dressed up and dinghied in to the shore in plenty of time for our reservation. Don’t want to be kicked out, for being late.

We were 20 minutes early and only the Chef and the beach dog were there. Chef was mad for us being early. Actually it is all an act. He was wearing a classic white T shirt and shorts, very island casual. He explained the rules. We were to mix our own drinks behind the bar, (see photo above). Beers were in a refrigerator around the corner. Which is what I homed in on. Keep track of our drinks. “Mind your P’s and Q’s” was a saying in the day. Meaning know how many pints and quarts you drank at the tavern, so you pay for the proper amount.

The next shift of customers came in. Two older couples, Nancy got to talking to them and the conversations continued off and on. Turns out we had been anchored directly off of their round yellow house for two days. They said, nobody ever anchors there! We received an invite to come visit.

We were able to finish our dinner and dinghy back to the boat prior to sunset. Which is why I wanted the early reservation. The sun set as we motored around Whale Head point back to our previous anchorage.

This is Sharie and James Knowles, who invited us into their house and shared many a story with us. They returned back twenty years ago, to the island of his ancestors. The Knowles here owned 2,000 acres. First living in a tent high in the middle of the island. Tried raising sheep. Actually flew 3 sheep in on Bahamas Air to improve the blood line.

Above they are holding a large wooden pestal. The large tree trunk mortar was out side under a tree. These were used by his relatives only decades ago. She was grinning ear to ear, when she casually handed the pestal to me. As soon as I hefted it up, I knew what it was made of. Lignum Vitae! It must have weighed twenty pounds. So you can see why it sinks in water.

Their passion is traipsing around the island at old plantations and caves looking for artifacts. They have an extensive collection of old bottles and Lucayan artifacts.

Sharie showed us her collection of whale ambergris. She researched ambergris and became a middle man buying and selling ambergris for fun from the locals. One of her many stories was flying to meet a buyer from France in Nassau. They went to the hotel room where a large piece was examined and bought. It earned the local islander $10,000 US. She just got involved out of curiosity. Treating the locals fairly. The islanders dog is the one who actually found it. Kind of like a truffle dog.

They told us of finding Right Whale skeletons. They have two whale vertebrae over their doors. She told the story of being in a bar when two Bahamians came in talking about the whale skeleton they found. She offered the use of her vehicle to transport the bones for the guy. She showed us a photo of bones stacked in her car floor to ceiling, with the pelvis strapped to the roof. The man sold the bones from in front of his house, eventually earning enough money to buy a car.

Walking through their house was like being in a Museum of Natural History. Above is the skull of a flamingo they found, plus whale baleen to the left.

There was an old cotton mill on their property, which is gone now. They took us on a tour where there is a Lucayan midden. We are sworn to secrecy on the exact location. It has been researched by the University of Florida. The photo on the right, is inside their garage. They lived in the garage for two years while they built the round house. Reminds me of my folks who lived in one small room, cooking over a camp stove while they built their first house in the Keys. I love the wood mallet on the wall which was used to beat sponges during the curing process.

Sharie also did her research on Conch pearls and became a middle man selling those. Locals would bring her conch pearls and she would pull out a light and jewelers loupe. After examining and rating it, she would pay them a descent price saying they could get more in Nassau. Most took the quick cash and headed to the bar. She mostly did it for fun and good story or two.

The tamarinds at their house are huge. All sorts of things in their yard that they found beach combing. Above are the old metal bouys for nets. Inside the house, were the more rare glass bouys. The photo on the left, is another grey racer snake we saw during the tour. That brings to a half dozen snakes we have seen in the few hours we have spent on shore. Sharie stopped the ATV when she saw a Mangrove Cuckoo in the bush. On a sadder note. They also found parts of the flotsam while beach combing. From the ship El Faro, lost during Cat 4 Hurricane Joaquin Oct. 1, 2015. Thirty three people lost their lives when the ship went down in 15,000 ft. just east of Long Island. Their house had 17 inch of water in the ground level garage from the hurricane.

What a great couple and a fantastic day spent with them.

S/V Sea Breeze, Wemyss bay, Long Island, Bahamas

[davidsteve1]

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[kikivarakisrealestate]

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[inevitablysomber-dark]

Hopping on the rafe x Pogue reader bandwagon. Where they're arguing and he says. "I can think of better things for you to do with that mouth."

I did my best and went for a demurer concept in terms of arguments.

Warning: Undertones of Dubious Consent. MATURE AUDIENCES ONL, MINORS DNI.

Summary: Rafe gets jealous, and you get punished

"I don't understand why you had to make a scene," you say, trying not to raise your voice so Rafe wouldn't get upset with you.

You were at the country club with Rafe, Topper, and Kelce, and some random Touron started flirting with you.

Before you could even think to reject him, Rafe was already in front of you, acting as some kind of pseudo-knight in shining armor, telling the guy to back off.

And though you didn't like his methods, they worked. Unfortunately, your issue with the interaction had been Rafe's unwillingness to drop it after the flirtatious perpetrator backed off. Going on to follow him to the golf course and beating him up.

Despite delivering his own form of retribution, at your own retraction, Rafe was still heated. So he cut the day short, dragged you to his house, and pulled you into his room.

"And I don't understand why you didn't turn him down as soon as he opened his mouth." Rafe bites back. "It's like you love seeing me pissed off."

Your relationship with Rafe was a complicated one.

You used to work for Ward as a part-time housekeeper. The Camerons were rarely home, and the gig paid well enough.

Last summer, the Camerons went on a 2 month's vacation to the Bahamas. You invited a few friends over for a mini party, but one of your more light-fingered friends had taken an artifact from the mansion and tried to sell it to Barry's pawn shop.

Rafe found out from Barry and retrieved it. Of course, he came back to you and threatened to get you fired, calling you all sorts of means things before giving you an ultimatum.

He would go to his father unless you do as he says.

At first, it was small things like getting the remote or making him some lemonade. Then he expected you to start waiting on him hand and foot.

When things quickly began crossing over to more sexual favors, you quit, thinking that your job wasn't worth your dignity.

Rafe, however, hunted you down and made sure you knew that he could destroy more than just your reputation.

You had family and friends you loved and cared about, and he would make sure you would be all alone to prove a point.

Now, you were going on dates with the Kook prince, trying to keep him unagitated, so he doesn't blow up on you.

You were frustrated at his behavior and attitude, which became more erratic as you spent more time with him.

"I was going to; you just didn't give me a chance," you say. "Why can't you just fuck off?"

You cover your mouth, not expecting that last part to come out. You were definitely thinking it; you just didn't mean to say it out loud.

"He squints his eyes at you, a fire lit behind his baby blues, getting in your face, a look on his own reflecting his unhappiness with you.

"I can think of much better things for you to do with that mouth than talk back," he says, his voice calm, eyes boring into you.

"Rafe-." you start

He unbuckles his belt and undoes his fly before settling into his desk chair and giving you an expectant look.

"Well, sweetheart." he says, "I'm waiting."

[wild-west-wind]

Your thoughts on the uptick on tourist/ wildlife conflict? Seems like it’s every week this season!!!

Oh gosh.

It has been bad this year. We’re on track to have the most injuries of any year in recent history.

So I’m of the belief that this comes down to a couple things, one of which is going to expose a major personal bias of mine (you’ll know it when you see it):

There aren’t enough Rangers this year to keep folks appraised of the rules: So this year we’re operating on a highly reduced staff. Most years Interpretive Rangers are out in force, and we’d be able to keep folks away from animals, respond to calls about wildlife jams (traffic jams caused by animals, either by their standing in the road, or by folks stopping to look). That gives us the ability to both educate the public about safe wildlife viewing rules, and prevent folks from getting into situations that might be dangerous.

People Don’t Read Signs: This is a maxim in the NPS, folks just... they don’t try to read the signs, or the park newspaper, or anything. They will make no effort to educate themselves for their own safety, and will deliberately misread signs they understand to try and get away with things they want to do, which brings me to...

People want a ‘unique’ experience: People right now, for better and worse, are inundated with social media. There’s an expectation that there are things you need to see, because that’s What You Do in the area. Add to that though that folks are always going to want something that other people don’t have. That means getting closer to the bear for that great picture. Getting closer to the bison because ‘he seems calm.’

The Government Encouraged Unprepared Folks to Come into Wilderness Spaces: When COVID was first getting serious, many state and local governments encouraged people to go outside, go camping and hiking. The CDC is still saying that camping is an extremely low risk activity. As a result a FLOOD of people with no outdoor experience rushed into outdoor places. Zero preparation, zero outdoor knowledge, all these people who would usually vacation in Hawaii are trying to visit the few National Parks that they know offhand. As a result they are used to a resort-type experience, and assume that the space they’re entering is as controlled of an experience as a big hotel complex in the Bahamas. They are, of course, wrong.

The Disney-fication of Wild Spaces

Movies: People get these images in their heads of movie characters, especially Disney movie characters, having these magical experiences with animals. They hold out their hands, and the animal comes to them. They think they have a special connection with wildlife, that they’re different than those fools who get hurt. They hold onto this mindset and do things that they really shouldn’t be doing because they want to think they’re special.

Theme Parks: So Disney has made a lot of money off making fake, sanitized versions of America’s outdoor spaces, packaging them and selling them to folks. People see the old 1903 Inn near where I worked last year, and their first response is always “Oh like the one in Disneyland!” This is the introduction a lot of first-time National Park travelers have to our park. Then they come out here, where there are no smoke machines on the hot springs, they are boiling; there are no safe animals; there are countless ways to die, even in the front country; and they have NO IDEA how to deal with that. Their image of a National Park is a sanitized theme park area, so they show up here asking “What are the Best Attractions to do here?” and assuming that they are as safe here as they would be in Disneyland. They assume we wouldn’t let them do anything dangerous, and wouldn’t allow dangerous things to come to them, because of course! There’s just this fundamental misunderstanding about what National Parks are for. Yeah, we want you to have a good time, but this isn’t a theme park and if someone can’t get their head around that they’re going to always be in a more dangerous spot that someone else.

This is America and I’ll Do What I Want: Self explanatory.

Anyway, here are the rules for seeing large wildlife:

Stay 25 yards (25m) away from all large animals, except...

When watching bear and wolves stay 100 yards (100m) away

If an animals moves toward you, it is on YOU to maintain that distance

In a car you are not obligated to maintain that distance

If you’re watching a bear from your car you probably want to keep your windows up

Do not feed animals, or by inaction cause an animal to eat human food

A fed animal is a dead animal

Wildlife management doesn’t want to remove animals, but by feeding the animal you killed it

Throwing a bite of food to a bear is as good for that bear as you getting out of your car with a shotgun and pumping a dozen rounds of buckshot into its face

A habituated bear is more likely to hurt humans in the future, so feeding that animal might also get a person hurt or killed

Even squirrels and birds (but we won’t have to remove them, they’ll just die by themselves)

If an animal changes its behavior because you’re around, you should move further away from it

Do not fly drones near animals (they are illegal in National Parks anyway, but it stresses them out A LOT)

Remember you are a house guest in this animal’s home, be a good guest by practicing leave no trace

If the next person to pass by where you were can tell you were there, you did not practice leave no trace

This means no making cairns, no painting rocks, no carving your name into a tree

Do not disturb anything you don’t have to

[seabreeze2022]

2023 Bahamas Cruise, Part 3, Mar. 9

This is the Harbor Master Tessie Rolle selling some of her home grown produce to Nancy. The two of them discussed the growing of Key Limes, Jack Fruit, and Wax Jambu. Tessie has received a grant and planted 150 Key Lime trees. They are due to start producing next year. We bought green tomatoes and green bell peppers. Tessie was true of farmers everywhere and Bahamians in particular, she threw in some free plantains.

Nancy took Tessie a bag of store bought dried Key Lime slices, found at Publix in the States. Key Limes don’t have a very good shelf life. So maybe Tessie can dry and package them prior to shipping.

We had watched the mailboat come in early in the morning, The inner harbor is very small but they turn the freighter around in there and then back up to a small concrete ramp. Then the fun begins. Things that are on board that have been bought and shipped from Nassau, are off loaded. Everything found on the island has been brought in by ship. Andros is one of the biggest islands and has plenty of fresh water and more soil than most of the Bahamas. So they grow several crops.

We had watched a youtube documentary of Bahamas agriculture recently. There is a group of Mennonites nearby who have a large farm. Several of the cruisers had goon there and bought fresh vegetables the day or two prior.

Here are two of the Mennonites picking up their orders, as well as shipping out Persian limes.

There was one freighter docked at the outer harbor wall strictly taking empty pallets off the island.

This small skiff is tied up next to the mailboat. I had watched them come to Morgans Bluff in heavy seas earlier. They pulled over just outside the inner Harbor entrance, and prepared to dive in 6 ft. of water. I thought it was a bit strange since there are no conch grazing in the outer harbor.

As you can see they are cleaning some conch to sell to the people waiting on the mailboat. The interesting thing about conch is, it will live several days out of the water tucked in its shell. So the guys gather 5 conch and punch a hole in the lip. Then they take a piece of string and tie all five together. Once they are tied up and can’t escape they are placed back in the water till needed.

We found several groups of conch tied up below our boat. For whatever reason, they were left there and eventually died.

Thinking back to the guys who sold us conch at the back of the boat. They warned us of large sharks in the harbor. It is all making sense now. This is where they deposit conch for the Thursday Mailboat. And they didn’t want us poking about.

The guys in the skiff I saw that morning picked up their deposit of conch then went into the harbor to sell them. Someone is shipping out a pallet of live conch. If you look closely you can see they used 5 pallets to make the box above.

This little white truck is loaded down with large bags of frozen crawfish tails.

Pallets of supplies are dropped here there and everywhere. Women keep track of whats happening. Men are the stevedores.

With this many people in one spot the entrepreneurs show up. Two different food shacks feed the hungry. The Bahama telephone business Aliv, brings in a truck to top off your monthly phone minutes.

We walked up the hill looking for the highest spot on the Island, Morgans Bluff. You can just imagine the Pirate Capt. Henry Morgan posting a lookout on the bluff to see if there was a ship to plunder. Or should they run from attackers themselves. We never found the bluff just a small housing settlement. I certainly thought about their slogan when we sailed away the next day.

Our freezer is working better this year. I spent a month changing out the foam in the freezer and adding a fan to the evaporator. Nancy found that she needs to “shuffle” the frozen food every couple of days. Then she scrapes the frost off of the coils, rearranging the food when she puts it back in. In the past we waited too long and had to spray water on the coils. This only made the bags of meat freeze to the inside of the freezer. Which then took longer to get out of the freezer on the next “shuffle”. A vicious cycle for sure.

To help cool the compressor I prop open the nearest hatch above it with a pool noodle (see the red item on the right of the photo”. All of these things help us keep the meat in the freezer better.

You can see our solar shower bag hanging at the swim platform. So nice to hose off with warm water after a dip.

So ends March 9th. Dinghy is secured to the davits, Life Jackets and tethers are ready, alarm is set for 0500. We set sail over the horizon before daybreak tomorrow.

As the sign said, “ You can never cross the ocean until you have the courage to lose sight of the shore”. S/V Sea Breeze, Morgans Bluff, Andros, Bahamas.