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fantasies-fairytales-n-fics · 8 months

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Code Blue Ch. 37- Little Boy Blue

Summary: A Lee and Josie chapter full of emotional revelations and a sweet love reunion. Craig plays hardball with a nemesis. Jo has another nightmare that shakes her entire soul. Lee comforts her and makes a promise.

*Warnings* Strong language, angst, supernatural occurrences, smut, mentions of murder plots and threats, mild violence

Stories Stories Stories Masterlist

Chapter characters: Lee, Josie, Craig, Ethan

Salem, Massachusetts

March 8, 2023

"Jason's what? I'm sorry, did you just say...hes' alive??" Lee asked with a raised brow and a tilted head as he peered down at your very serious and nervous face.

You were betraying your brother by telling his secret, but never again would you keep things from Lee, not even this and soon, you would also tell him about Jacob. Lee deserved to know that the woman he loves is also his son's aunt.

"Believe me, I know how insane this sounds but..."

"Jo...that's...not even possible...I...I saw him, treated him...h..how??"

"I saw him too...yesterday afternoon at my apartment, after I saw you. Well, he was at my landlord's apartment and I certainly wasn't supposed to see him. I came up the stairs and there he was in the hallway with Craig, both as shocked as I was. Let's go downstairs and get that wine. There's so much more I need to tell you."

You and Lee sat at the kitchen table for over an hour, sharing a newly opened bottle of red wine as you told him all you knew about Jason's resurrection and Elizabeth being Craig's ex wife, saving for the last, the part about your brother being Jacob's father.

"So then...who's in his grave?? I mean, there was a man in the ER that I tried to save Jo, believed to be Jason so who in the hell was it? Your mom, she identified him. She was certain it was Jason. She pointed out his necklace. God, this is mind blowing because you know what?...now it makes sense. He was unidentifiable. The man's head trauma was quite severe, his jaw crushed, including his teeth, probably from a beam falling on him I would suspect so a dental comparison was not possible and he was severely burned, including his hands, almost to a crisp so...no fingerprints. His DNA was not on file as well. Wow...it was all set up."

"Yeah...I don't know who we buried. The conversation didn't get to that but I'm going to guess it was either some innocent man that was just there that day having his lunch and is probably now considered missing, which is so unsettling. What if he had a family? I can't even imagine what they're going through if he did. This all pisses me off so bad that Jason did this and damn the consequences and whomever gets hurt all so he can get his revenge. I get it, I do, about that but he could have handled it without dying per se."

"I'm so sorry baby, that he did this to your and your mom. Does she know?"

"Oh believe me, if she knew, I would have heard about it by now. I wasn't even supposed to tell you, but there's no way I could, or would keep this from you, especially after everything we have been through."

"Thank you sweetheart. It means everything to me that you trust me with something so huge like that. And Elizabeth, I can't even. She's like a fucking plague. I remember telling you about how she got married and had a kid with the guy, but I never knew his name nor met him. I feel for this Craig a bit, considering he is possibly in the same boat with me, not knowing if his child is his child and the thought of her being Ethan's...I can't even...but at least he has an idea, where is I have no clue who Jacob's biological father is."

There it was. The moment you would have to break his heart all over again and it was making you sick to your stomach because Lee had been through so much already, especially today. What would this do to him? After everything, could you possibly lose him because it might just be too weird and too much to handle about you being Jacob's aunt? It was a risk you had to take so Lee could have some sort of peace over it all, although peace would be the last thing he was going to feel at first.

"Lee...I..."

You froze and Lee could see there was something you were dreading to tell him.

"Hey, baby girl...what is it? You know you can tell me anything." he sweetly said and reached over to lay his hand upon yours.

"I know." you smiled as tears began to well up in your fretful eyes. "It's just that...what I have to tell you, I...don't even know how to say it."

"Well, I find the simplest way to say something is to just say it. Just throw it all out there. Maybe try that, because...you're kinda scaring me here a little."

"I'm so sorry. Ok...I umm...I...I know who...Jacob's father is." you stuttered out and cringed while doing so.

Lee's hand slowly slid off of yours as he sat back and straight up in his chair, his eyes widened with instant grief.

"You...you know who? That...that means...it's actually true?"

"I...yes. I'm so sorry, I didn't want to have to tell you this. I..found out yesterday. Jason told me and.."

"Wait..Jason told you?? How would he even know?"

You began to choke up as you lightly gulped before continuing.

"He umm...Lee...it's...he knows because...it's...him."

Lee's entire body noticeably stiffened and you swore he stopped breathing for a moment as he gazed at you like a deer in the headlights.

"That...that can't be...I mean...how? Wait...what????"

"Elizabeth....she knew Jason, probably because of Ethan, I don't know really. She was in love with him I guess and well, Jason loved Britt as you know, so one night, out of her jealousy and drunkeness, Elizabeth told him the truth before Jacob died. From what I understand, she let Jason spend time with Jacob from time to time but Jason didn't want him to be a part of his life, only to protect him from the life he lived and then...when Jason ended up choosing Britt, Elizabeth snapped and Jason feels, just as you do, that....Jacob's death was not an accident. Jason thinks she did it to get back at him and he...he even thinks she had something to do with his so called death and...."

Your words were cut short by Lee abruptly shoving his chair back to stand and he just stood there, staring with gaping eyes darting around as his breaths accelerated.

"Jesus christ....that... that means...you....you are his.....THAT'S what he meant..he knew and was trying to tell me." Lee whispered loudly as he walked off into the other room.

"Lee, wait...that's what WHO meant?? And knew what??" you frantically asked as you hurried after him.

"Yesterday...." he gasped and paced about. "God, you're going to think I am fucking nuts. It..it was at the same time, the same time Jo, that you found out. I..I saw him...I saw Jacob..."

Lee paused as he panted, staring at you with desperation for you to believe him.

"Ok, ok baby, slow down and breathe. I believe you and would never think you're nuts. How could I not believe you after all the other things you have witnessed...what I even witnessed the day the windows blew out. Tell me what happened. Take your time. It's ok. I promise. Do you trust me?"

"Yes, of course...I...I was going to tell you...but..everything else happened. After I left you at Gordon's work, I decided not to wait for him to get back and I...I went to the house...I needed to stay busy and try to get more of Jacob's things. I..I just keep putting it off ya know....and...anyways." he said as he shook his head in frustration. "I...I was packing some of his tuff in a box, some books and...and his favorite stuffed animal, a monkey...he loved monkeys and..I always called him monkey cause he liked to jump in the bed in the mornings and wake me up and fuck I'm rambling."

Lee rubbed his hands down his face and sucked in a deep breath.

"Hey, look at me, look at me. It's ok. You can ramble all you want. I'm listening. I'm right here. Focus on me ok?" you assured him and took his hand.

Lee's eyelids fluttered a bit as he tried to gather his scattered thoughts and then he softly nodded and gulped before continuing.

He began to tell you as the look on his face told you he was reliving it in his mind.

"As I was packing, I..I had the music on...the song I put in your gift...time in a bottle...it was playing and I was thinking about you and...just as I was putting his monkey in the box....I felt like someone was there and when I looked up...he was there Jo. Jacob was standing right beside me and he pulled the box down and got out his toy airplane, the began running all around the house, holding it in the air like it was flying, just like he always used to do. I...I couldn't even believe my own eyes. I thought I was having some kind of break from reality due to all my stress. Especially when....when he ran through a doorway and then all of a sudden he was coming down the stairs on the opposite side of the house. I then...I...tried to touch him as he sat and played with the plane and...it shocked me...it shocked me Jo, like...it knocked me back on my ass. And then...he just looked at me and said...'where's mommy.' And then, he was just gone. "

(Enjoy the small clip below of that scene Lee is remembering. I added "Time in a Bottle" to it)

"After that, I went and took a long hot shower to wake up. I hadn't been sleeping well and literally thought I was hallucinating. So it was either the shower or I was going to drink myself to death. I...I wanted to call you but...I couldn't tell you something like that over the phone when I couldn't even understand what happened to even be able to try. Anyways...after my shower, I got dressed and I went into Jacob's room, looking at all of his things that I left just as he had left it. I couldn't bring myself to continue packing after what I believed I saw, because why? Why was he there? The way he took his toy out of that box, it was like he didn't want me to pack his things or maybe he just didn't understand what I was doing with them. So instead, I found myself straightening his room up, dusting off the bed and stuff, and then...he was there again. Right by his bed. Again, he said 'when's mommy coming back.' and then he got distracted by his tent fort that he and I built out of chairs and sheets and he ran into it."

"His smile...Jo it was so real. He even had the little chip in his front tooth from when he tripped over that same divot in the backyard that you tripped over. I...I just kept staring at him ya know? His baby blues sucking me right in. I used to also call him little boy blue, you know, the nursery rhyme? I would read it to him from one of his books that had a collection of all the old stories. You know, I don't see one ounce of Liz in him, strangely, I never did and his blue eyes, I thought he got them from me....that is until I was told he wasn't mine. I would look at him more often after that, wondering if he looked more like his father because I couldn't see myself in him anymore. Crazy to think I ever did when his blue eyes are of Jason's."

"He's your son, no matter what Lee. I mean, look, he comes to see you, not Jason. He sees you as his father and you are and always will be. He don't even go to Elizabeth, just you. Well, unless he really did cut her seatbelt because he knows what she did."

"But then why was he asking for her like he missed her?"

"I...I don't know baby, I wish I had all the answers. So, him asking for her, is that what you were talking about? That you knew what he meant and that he knows?"

"No...no...I mean, I thought that's what he meant then, until now....I...I crawled into his fort to see if he was still there...and he was, playing with some toys."

Lee's emotions were building as he closed his welled eyes and had to place his hand horizontally over his mouth.

Immediately, you pulled him down to you and held him so tight, laying your cheek against his. His arms reciprocated so fast and he held you even tighter.

"Heyy my beautiful sweet guy. You can take a break. There's no rush. I am not going anywhere, I promise. You can even stop completely if you want to."

His whimpered warm breath grazed your ear. "No...I...I need to tell you this...now. Jacob...he wants me to...You'll understand why in a minute."

You kissed his lips softly, then his forehead as you stroked his hair before he released you and resumed his supernatural story, although his hand still clung to yours.

"I watched him for a few moments while he played with his dinosaur figure and wooden train engine that I carved him as a birthday gift when he turned 4. And then I asked him if he knew why he was here. He said because he lived there as he continued playing."

"I then asked him if there was something he wanted or needed. He said...he said..."

Lee choked up and sighed heavily. "He said it was me that needed something before he rode the train back to his papa and mama. I asked him what he believed I needed and he said....you. He said you make me happy and him happy and then he randomly asked again about Liz, when's mommy coming back? I remember smiling at his words about you, but at that time, I thought you may never come back to me so I told him, I'm sorry monkey but I think it will just be me and you for awhile buddy."

"He said...'No. Mommy will come back. She's just afraid.' Can you believe a 5 year old little boy said something so grown up?" Lee aid as he lightly chuckled. "So...I told him that mommy did some not so nice things and wouldn't be coming back. I didn't know how else to explain it to him. I mean, I'm seeing a fucking ghost Jo. My son, he's a ghost. How do I make him understand, ya know? About what Liz really was and still is. But the thing is, that I realize now...he wasn't talking about her. He then said 'yes she will. The nice lady who loves you. She's family.' And then... he just... looked at me....and I just looked at him in confusion...and then, he was gone again."

"My god Jo, he was talking about YOU. I thought at first that when he said family, that he meant that he saw you in that way, and I believe that to be true but now I also know it was because you ARE family. He knew, he knows you are his aunt but...I think he sees you as a mother figure, even when he didn't even know you in life. He came to me at the same time you were finding all that out...God, this is all so damn crazy that I can't even wrap my head around it! I mean, what are the odds that you and I were brought together??? And you finding the bracelet I lost that he gave to me and you saving my fucking life when I had given up all hope. It was him, it was ALL him. That's why he is here Jo. For us. He wants us to be together. Look how that song came on in the kitchen that night we danced and almost kissed. The fucking radio was not even plugged in! And the windows blowing out in Liz's presence as we argued...He knows what she did and my god, that evil sadistic bitch fucking knew all along that Jacob was Jason's...and I...can't even speak about her right now because I want to tear her head off.... and...ALL that wasted time, if you and I had only met sooner...we all could have been a family Jo, you, me and Jacob and he would possibly still be alive because I would have left Liz in a heartbeat for you and we could have taken him from her. You could have been his real mother. You could have had the child you couldn't have...and it would have been with me and....and...."

Lee was so worked up at this point that he became very distressed.

"Now that I've seen him, I'm afraid if I leave that house with his things and don't go back, I'm never going to see him again!"

He then began to heavily sob and now you were too. You reclaimed him in another embrace and you just held him and gently rocked him, as if you were dancing again. Now you knew. Your fears had been chased away. Lee was not going to leave you and he had confirmed that by his wishes that you all could have been a family. God how you wanted that with him. He was your forever, til death shall you both part.

"Lee, I am soooo sorry for what I have put you through today when you were holding all of that inside. God, this hurts so much that you're hurting like this. You're right though. I believe he is here for us. He is team JoLee." you laughed and sniffled as you gently wiped his tears from his broken eyes. I remember that nursery rhyme very well. i don't know if this will make you feel any better or worse but I feel it's another sign. My aunt Olivia, my mom's youngest sister who I would call Olive because I couldn't say her name right, used to watch us kids when we were little while mom and dad worked and she read that to Jason and even called him that too."

Lee actually smiled as he was now starting to relax, for you were truly the only one that could keep him grounded.

"It does make me feel better because it's all part of our story, our destiny, Jacob's too. You...you always make me feel better. No matter what I am going through, you make it all go away with your witchy magic spells that I have helplessly fallen under. Team JoLee huh? I love it...I love you...so fucking much. If you only knew."

"I do know." you softly squeaked as you tenderly traced his bottom lip with your thumb.

"The first time....ever I kissed your mouth..." Lee softly sang in a whisper and then brought his lips to yours.

It was done. The desire, the longing and out of this world love for each other eliminated everything else as your lips pushed firmly back into his. Lee's arms locked around your back and he he lifted your feet from the ground, holding you against him as he trailed butterfly kisses down your neck as you kicked your boots free. Once they dropped, Lee took one hand and grabbed behind your thigh, pulling your leg up his side as he backed you through the air and against the wall. Your other leg then followed suit and clasped with your other one behind his back in which he groaned intensely as he instantly grinded his solid length over your entrance that dampened your thin leggings.

Your fingers found his shirt buttons and undid them in a swift perfect sequence until his bare sculpted chest was exposed to your wanting hands. You gazed at his beauty as your palms ran down his pecks and over his rippled abs that sucked in to your touch followed by his deep gasp of yearning. His lips came back to yours, your tongues making love as you glided his shirt down his arms, letting it flow to the floor. Your shirt was next and then your bra. A heavy sigh released his lips as they found your aroused nipple while his hand graced your other breast with a soft caressing motion of his thumb.

You then unhooked your legs and stood up for him to yank your pants down and clean off. He buried his face into your stomach, kissing every inch, working his way down until you felt his tongue delve between your folds with a long slow lick from bottom to top, sending a sonic boom through your core as he grazed over your bud.

Your head arched back and your fingers dove through his locks as he teased a swirling flicker over the highly sensitive spot. Suddenly, his arms bent up under your thighs and you were lifted and held firmly in a leg spread seating position by his muscular limbs as he knelt on the floor with his palms planted on the wall and then...his tongue thrusted into you, dancing about in your heated taste. The combination of his darting plunges and bellowing moans broke your unstable dam, sending a flooding rush of climatic pulsating waves over him.

"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!! God Leeeeeeeeee!!!"

Your scream was so insanely high pitched, you wouldn't be surprised if Lee's distant neighbors heard it. His back heard it alright as your nails dug right up his shoulder blades.

"Damn baby." he panted as he licked his lips and smiled up at you with a curled pouty lip, then let your shaking legs rest on the ground while he still supported you, or you would have fallen smack dab on your ass in your weakened state.

"Hold on to me." he quickly said and hoisted you onto his lap, then stood up as you squeaked out a giggle. Lee then carried you to the couch and gently laid you down, unable to move for a moment as he took in the radiant vision before him. The vision of him was quite mesmerizing as well as he stood above you, shirtless and the head of his seeping cock breaching the waistline of his jeans.

Watching him remove them was another joy all in itself, causing your core to relight like a match strike. He lowered himself over you, kissing you deeply and passionately, letting you taste yourself as he took his knee and pushed your leg up, then without warning, Lee thrusted into you, ripping your mouth from his as a squealed gasp came powering out.

Your wetness allowed him to fill you up instantly and he wasted no time rocking into you hard and steady with his foot propped on the floor and his other one stretched out down the couch. His arm slid under your other leg and pinned that one up too, bringing every inch of his straight to your sweet spot with his grinding sways. His bursting gasps and groans were in sync with his magical movements, bringing you both over the edge together.

"Leeee...I....oh my...g..god..." you cried, bucking your hips up like a rabbit.

"Jo...fuck...J..Jo baby...ah...ahhh...AHHHH!!"

He slammed against you, his hips vigorously jerking, his arms flexed and shaking profusely as he released into your release. The magic this man had to easily unhinge you in such ways was like no other ever had or could. He was meant for you and you for him...forever.

Lee kissed you tenderly, toying with your hair as you stroked his perspiring face.

"I'm sorry about today." he whispered.

"I'm not." you replied and smiled, making him smile and kiss you again, then you both shared a a gaze of looking into each other's souls.

"Jo...I did not wait for you. I wish I had but I didn't know you were coming. When you walked into my life, I didn't know it was you because I didn't know there was a you. You were never a list, a goal, or an expectation, only a dream. You were a surprise, a gift, an adventure, a beautiful new beginning to a story I never thought I'd have. As cheesy as this might sound, you complete me. I was empty before I found you."

"Right back at ya babe."

Lee chuckled, as did you, at the short but meaningful phrase you and he always spoke, then he kissed you again and got up, handing you a blanket.

"How about some dinner and music my girl. I'll go see what I have on hand to whip up. At least we got it right this time and made love first so the food don't burn like the last two times."

You wrapped up like a burrito in the large plush material as you laughed at his remark.

"Mmm yes please, I'm starving. Lee?" you called to him before he left the room.

"Yeah beautiful?"

"You don't have to leave or sell that house if you don't want to."

Lee softly smiled in awe of your understanding. "God I love you."

He blew you a kiss, clicked the music on and went to dress, then make dinner as you laid there for awhile in the afterglow of his love and during that time, you fell asleep with your relentless nightmares returning.

"Have you successfully picked up the package?" Craig asked into his phone as he steadily stared at one of his unfinished art pieces due to his lack of inspiration.

"Good. Bring him up." he continued in a wicked tone and hung up, then sipped his wine while anticipating the arrival of his guest.

The door opened and in stumbled an extremely agitated Ethan being shoved by Craig's men. Corinthos may have been his Kingpin employer, but Craig handled his own business in his own way.

"What the fuck Parker??!!" Ethan reeled when he saw the calm and cool Kiwi enjoying his usual blood red vintage paired with the eeriness of dried paint on his hands resembling the same murderous hue.

"Well, here comes the blushing bride...or should I say groom, one of them anyways."

"What the hell are you talking about and why am I being drug here and man handled by your thugs??!! I don't have any business with you!"

"Oh on the contrary, yes you do. Man handled, that's kind of your thing yes? And thugs? Hmmm, pot calling the kettle black don't ya think? Considering what you are? Don't be rude now. They can hear you." Craig quipped as he gave the two brawny men a grinning glance.

"Cut the witty bullshit Parker. It's like nails on a chalkboard and it would seem you're the one in black, taking over Jason's role. The new, but not improved Stone Cold wannabe. You're no better than me."

Craig sat motionless with a locked on predator glare at Ethan as he gritted his teeth, wanting to paint him red for knowing of his part in Jason's hit, but he couldn't reveal that he knew. As far as Craig being like Jason, he was in one particular way. He could be just as stone cold as him. Stone Cold Jason Morgan, a well deserved epithet given to him by the moniker making Damion Spinelli, a geeky, undetectable computer hacking genius and loyal, good friend of Jason and Craig's who aided Craig in this little treasure hunt.

"Jason's name will never cross your lips in my presence again or I'll remove them with a box cutter and display them on one of my art pieces. And as far as you are concerned, that is where you are wrong. You see, you and I are not the same. The reasons for my madness are for the greater good where is yours are solely that of being both a masochistic and sadistic piece of shit. So now, let's get down to business. You're stinking up the place."

Craig went over to his desk, put his glasses on as he sat down and searched for something.

"Now where is...ahh yes, here the little sweet bit is."

Craig picked up an envelope that was sitting in clear view on the edge of the desk, for if there was one thing he enjoyed doing, it was toying with people like Ethan.

"Here ya go. This will probably be worse than nails screeching down porcelain enameled steel." Craig daunted as he eagerly handed his dug up skeletons to Ethan with confidence.

"What is this??"

"Well, unless you're psychic, you'll have to actually look at it."

Ethan pulled out the single 8 x 10 folded paper and began to scan it. As he did so, his chocolate eyes slowly widened. Craig then walked over to the coincidental chalkboard that hung on his wall and ran his nails over it, Freddy Krueger style as he leered at Ethan with an ominous raised brow while chanting a one liner from the notorious Elm street tune..

"One, two, Craigy's coming for you."

"H..how did you know..."

"How did I know about that little tidbit of juicy info?? Well...you can thank my ex ball and chain for that, for she told me something long ago about you, knowledge that I believed to be totally useless to me at that time, but you know Beth and her big mouth, always blabbing people's business and always sucking your cock with it, etcetera etcetera."

"Now hold on a..."

"I'm not finished." Craig snapped, then sat in his painting chair and continued his taunting tale with great satisfaction.

"Seems you have a big trap too and should be more careful what you relay to loose lips Lizzy and believe me, there was completely a pun intended there. Anyways, I suppose since her and I had just gotten hitched, she thought she would share your happy news as well of how you married HER ex and then he filed for divorce soon after. What was the matter, you couldn't get it up? They have drugs for that you know? SO...recently, it all struck my urge to go digging through the dirt since I now know who your ex is. You see, slugs like you always leave a slimy trail. But that's all irrelevant really. What matters here is that I found out your dirty little secret that you kept hidden after the fact."

"What do you want? Why the fuck are you doing this?? This has nothing to do with you."

"It's always the same old questions, what do you want, why are you doing this blah blah blah. To be clear, it has everything to do with me, maybe not directly, but hopefully your measly mindless brain will soon catch on. Does the name...Josephine March ring a bell?"

Ethan's eyes rolled up from the damaging document to meet Craig's dilated devious ones.

"What does that little whore have to do with this?"

"Easy..." Craig snarled though his clenched teeth as his entire body stiffened up like a cat ready to pounce.

"Ohhh...I get it now. You know her because of Ja...umm...her brother. You're just another sucker that's fallen under her spell. So again, what does she have to do with this?"

"For a second there, I thought the light came on but it would seem there's an electrical short somewhere most likely due to your man bun being too tight. Let me spell it out for your grade school mentality. I learned that your ex is her man and that you're terrorizing her. She's off limits to you from here on out. If you even so much as look at her, I'll be there....and I'll gladly offer this info to her boyfriend...whom according to one mysteriously missing document...is still your husband. A divorce certificate that does not exist. It all just vanished, poof, into thin air, along with any records of Lee's filing and by whom? After some light digging, it would seem it's none other than your big wig attorney, one E.J. Dimera. Yeah, I know about his dealings with you and your butt buddies, the Zacharra's. Everyone in Salem and the entire state of Massachusetts clear to Boston know what the Dimera's are capable of accomplishing. How many zeros did you pay for it all to go away as if it never happened? I mean, I am sure a judge must have finalized it with his signature and seal of the courts so Lee had a copy. Is the judge in your pocket too??? And better yet, what I can't wrap my head around is what exactly are you hoping to gain out of going to all the trouble? Are you that pathetically desperate just to keep a man bound to you that don't want or love you?? Are you saving the little time bomb for some opportune moment of some sort?? If you think he despises you now, well...I think you can see how it will all play out if he learns the truth. Such as, say...he tries to get married again. This only prolongs the inevitable. What is this all going to DO for you?"

"You can't prove any of this. It was obviously just carelessly overlooked. Maybe Lee forgot to file with all he was going through because I was never even served. Simple as that."

"News flash. Avoiding being served, which is what you did, does not stop a divorce. And fucking please, is that how you're really going to try and get out of this with that dumb ass explanation?? The good doctor did not forget something of such importance. He was too determined to end it before it ever began and he's far too intelligent to make such a mistake. I guarantee you he has copies of everything after he filed, including the final decree but of course he probably never thought he'd actually need to prove anything because things like this only happen in books, movies and soap operas. More importantly, the courts don't just carelessly overlook these things. Not without a hefty bribe or blackmail from someone of high threatening stature, which is where we once again come back to E.J.. Simple...as...that." Craig retorted as he nonchalantly multi-tasked with organizing his art supplies to distract his intense urge of having Ethan take a swan dive off the roof.

"You really shouldn't go around tossing those kinds of accusations about someone like E.J....."

Craig's cocky laughter cut Ethan's words short and only proved even more to him of Craig's fearlessness and that he was up shit creek without a paddle.

"Someone like E.J. Ooooo I'm shaking in my ass kickers man. How bout this? I'll just give the good old Englishman E.J. a call and accuse him myself then. I'm not a pansy ass coward like you are....obviously. I'll also be sure to let him know that you ratted him out as well. Three, four, better lock your door." Craig jested, trying not to smile as he turned around to face a confounded Ethan.

Ethan momentarily dropped his head, knowing Craig had him by the balls, but kept on with his lame argument.

"Again, you can't prove it. There's no trail. You have absolutely nothing."

"The wheels on your short bus go round and round, yet you still can't comprehend that I DON'T NEED TO PROVE IT! The proof is all right fucking there in black and white, a marriage certificate that has no supporting divorce decree ANYWHERE and THAT PROVES your farce of a marriage is not legally dissolved, which is all that really matters here and it's all that WILL matter to your clueless hubby. I'm not out for E.J. unless he gives me a reason to be and I'm not looking for legal action upon you, I mean, you and I both know things don't get handled legally in our world. Simply comply with my terms. Stay the fuck away from Jo or Lee learns the truth and goes all Satan on you. Five, six, grab your crucifix."

"Ok, enough man. You ask what's in this for me. Well what the hell is in this for you Craig??? Josie will never want you if that's your end game somehow. First of all, she's so fucking far up Lee's ass and vice versa that nobody can tell where one begins and the other ends and second, what do you think she will think of you if she knows you kept this information from her just to torture me huh??"

"Now see, that's none of your concern because SHE is none of your concern anymore. It's not to torture you, you self-absorbed Shirley Temple haired sleaze! My end game is simply to keep her safe from the narcissistic likes of you and that's ALL I care about. The last thing she needs right now is to know about this, which I just know you're itching to tell her. I mean, I COULD just do her and Lee both a favor right now and wipe your ass all over this floor and then have my men dispose of you down in the boiler room where your dying embers will forever remain, which THAT don't only happen in movies, BUT..." Craig sighed. "Karma wants and deserves that honor more than I do."

By karma, Craig was referring to Jason. As bad as he wanted to make good on his threat, he would not deny his friend the long awaited and carefully planned take down of Ethan Bloom, just as Ethan and his goon guild had done to Jason. But the fact that Jason was biding his time in doing so was getting under Craig's skin because it allowed Ethan all the more time to torment you and he wasn't going to allow it to continue, even if he knew he was going about it the wrong way by keeping Lee's marital status a secret from you, especially when he swore to you he would do everything in his power to earn your trust back. It didn't matter though really. Craig knew he would never have you, but what ever feelings he had developed for you still made him want to keep you safe.

"Karma wants me huh? Well, aren't I getting that now? I will say, I do like the part about you wiping my ass all over this floor. Maybe we could come to some...agreement. I could enjoy that." Ethan stupidly offered with a sly grin as he randomly envisioned a shirtless Craig holding wolverine claws due to all the Freddy talk.

"Did....you just...fucking hit on me????? The only hit you ever send in my heterosexual direction better be the kind that fucking kills me. I'm into God given tits and warm cherry pie, not a shit stained cock that even your precious Lee didn't want anymore!" Craig fumed as he picked up a long and thin paintbrush, then rushed over to Ethan.

"I can only imagine this when I look at you! This...this isn't a cock. It's like your limp little dick!" he then loudly raged with every bone and vein protruding from his neck as he held the brush up in Ethan's face.

"You talk a whole lotta smack about dick's for someone who claims they don't swing that way. Why don't you just kill me instead of all this huh?? I can tell when someone is afraid to leave the closet and..."

A gasping grunt was heard as Craig grabbed the back of Ethan's neck and hurled him across the floor with one swift shove, then he graced Ethan's gut with a hefty football kick.

"You audacious little fuck. If I was ever into men, I still wouldn't touch you even while wearing a fucking hazmat suit!! Now get the fuck out of here before I shove this paintbrush so far up your dick hole, you won't need Viagra anymore! You're the one who should be afraid. Seven, eight, better stay up late. Nine, ten, never sleep again!!!"

Craig then sat back down at his desk and put his glasses on as his flushed face slowly regained it's natural tone. He then looked over at his lackeys, becoming highly annoyed.

"Why are you still here??? Get him the fuck out of here! Out the back."

Once Ethan was removed from his sight, Craig resumed his wine consumption as he cranked his music, wishing to release his frustrations out on a new canvas. As he stood, staring blankly at the white board, trying to take your advice and find inspiration through his daughter, nothing came to him as usual. So, in his anxious state, he headed out to his terrace with a new bottle of wine and drank his frustrations away instead.

After Lee had dinner cooking in the oven, a quickly mixed up meatloaf and potatoes, he noticed you had fallen asleep, a vision he could look at for hours upon end, but he decided to pry himself away and go outside to tend to his small garden so he wouldn't do what he wanted to do instead, call Liz and cuss her ass out, although he wanted to do much much more than that. The rage he felt inside over what she had done to him and Jacob sent his mind spiraling to a very dark place and if you hadn't been there at that moment, he would be downing a bottle of Jack, then stupidly driving to confront her and most likely winding up in jail. Once again, you kept him grounded.

As Lee began to snip a few scarlet red roses, you were succumbed in a nightmare that seemed far too real to only be a dream.

You could hear a train's horn in the distance and the railroad rumble of the wheelsets nearing closer by the minute. Standing alone in the foggy dark night, you could see a blurry vision of the hospital cutting through the murkiness and the word 'emergency' lit up in bright crimson letters that flickered as if it had some kind of short.

"Lee!!!" you called out, your voice echoing into the night as you slowly turned in circles in your search for him but he was nowhere in sight. The pale moon was full and cast only enough light for you to see a few feet in front of you.

You felt the anxiety creeping over you as your voice became muffled out by the roaring but invisible locomotive quickly approaching.

"LEEEE!!!!" you screamed as tears flowed like a waterfall over your chilled cheeks, but no sound came from your trembling lips, only a cloud of your warm breathe escaped them into the crisp air.

You could suddenly see movement in the distance, shadow figures appearing within the mist. Faint laughing soon meshed together into howling cackles and they sounded so familiar.

Something touched you and as you spun around screaming, you saw Ethan with these steel razor like nails, wiggling them at you and then another touch was felt, a hard poke in the rib cage of your back. Spinning around again with a squealing gasp, there was Elizabeth, holding a knife. Both had you sandwiched and both were glaring at you with terrifying frozen full toothed grins, like something out of the movie Smile. You were then touched again on the back of your leg and as you spun around once more, this time you saw the blinding light of the train. Ethan and Elizabeth squinted and ran as if they knew what was coming and then, there was a tug at the hem of your shirt. Gasping, you jumped back a step to see.....Jacob with the train's light glowing all around him like a fiery eclipse.

"Don't be afraid Mommy. Daddy likes to ride trains. It will come soon."

"J...Jacob?? What...what is happening?? Where...where is Lee?"

Jacob gazed at you in silence with his big blue eyes, then turned and walked away into the light to stand beside someone. A very tall someone who's face became visible, also from the train's light....it was Lee.

What sounded like a crack of thunder exploded through the air, only you soon realized it was not thunder, but the familiar sound of a gunshot and you then saw Lee holding his bloodied abdomen just under his ribs in which he was staring down at in confusion. He then raised his head, releasing a sharp gasp and looked directly into your eyes, his brows furrowing.

"Who are you?" he whispered.

The train horn blared again, so deafening you had to cover your ears as you screamed for Lee once more and then... you woke up screaming his name for real.

Lee came racing in the door and came to a surprised stop as he saw you standing there, partially wrapped in your blanket and crying and shaking like a leaf while looking as if you had seen a ghost. And in your quivering hand was a steak knife.

"Baby...you alright??" he calmly asked, hiding his fear for your sake as he slowly approached you and carefully reached for your hand.

"Jo, sweetheart...It's me...Lee....I don't know what's happening..but... can you give me the knife baby?"

Your gaping eyes darted down to the knife that you didn't even realize you were holding, nor did you recall picking up.

"I...I...I...I....I..." you sputtered. "I...don't...I don't know where I got this...or...or how...I got..."

You paused and gulped in panic as you dropped the knife and leaped into Lee's arms, whimpering and clutching him like a vice grip.

"Shhhhhh....shhhhh baby. I've got you. Sweetheart, you were asleep on the couch when I went outside. I...I think you may have been dreaming. I..I heard you scream for me. Do...you remember?"

You planted your eyes shut as you cringed.

"Uh..huh....E...Ethan...E.E..E..Eliz...they...were...I saw them....I saw them and...I saw you an an an an and J..Jacob...A train...blood...oh god, Lee, let me go, I think I'm going to be sick."

You slapped your hand over your mouth and ran up the stairs, tripping over the blanket and then you just dropped it and kept going.

Lee stood there for a moment, quite befuddled as he gazed into the living room where you had fallen asleep. There, on the coffee table was a plate with an apple core on it where Lee had sat the day before, cutting up his favorite fruit up with the knife that now laid upon the foyer's floor. He then could hear you gagging and bolted up the stairs.

"Jo! Babe...can I come in?" he asked in concern as he tapped on the bathroom door of his bedroom.

You began to cry so he hurried right in to find you huddled up on the floor beside the toilet.

"Heyyyyy sweet girl." Lee softly and sweetly whispered as he knelt down and stroked your hair from your face. "Talk to me. Are you alright?"

"I...I think so now...I...god I'm sorry. I feel so stupid."

"Nope. No feeling stupid. Something scared the hell out of you and that's nothing to feel stupid about my love. Come on. Take a hot shower and relax, gather your thoughts. I'll wait right here in the bedroom for you so you feel safe and then we can go downstairs and you can tell me about your dream while we eat. Yes?"

His smile....god you could never resist that, especially this one, the soft closed lip grin that had a slight upward slant on the right side.

Lee wrapped his arms around your waist and lifted you up to stand, kissing your forehead upon completion, then he leaned into the walk in shower and turned the water on.

"There baby, plenty of soap and shampoo in there. Take as long as you want and need. I'll lay on the bed and read out loud so you can hear my voice. I love you because the entire universe conspired to help me find you and I'll help you through this like you always help me. I...I won't let you fall."

You kissed him long and soft as you held his face, then entered the sizeable shower.

You stood motionless under the hot steam, now remembering ever bit of the day terror. You've had your share of nightmares in your 30 years but never one quite like this, so realistic, so vivid. Was it Jacob? Did he visit you with a message? Jesus christ, was Lee in some kind of danger? How would you tell him about it??

Your mind raced with all these thoughts as Lee's voice of beautiful words danced around them, making it all go away. Of course, you had to cover your mouth as you burst into laughter over what he was reading. It must have been one of Jacob's books.

"How do you spell love Pooh?" Piglet asked.

"You don't spell it Piglet, you feel it." said Pooh.

You walked out to Lee while towel drying your hair to see him propped against the headboard with his cute wire rimmed reading glasses on and his legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles with one of his button down shirts at his feet, most likely for you to wear.

Lee had been in the middle of reading when his words were abruptly interrupted by the sight of your bare form before him. You had to giggle at him lowering his glasses down his nose to view you in his state of awe.

He flipped the book up through the air and whipped out of bed to scoop you up into a swing around, making you squeal in laughter.

"God you are sexy as hell." Lee raved and then kissed you deeply. "Now, with that said, I suggest you put that shirt on or I guarantee you dinner will burn again."

He watched you with great resistance and a half smirk as you slipped the way oversized shirt on that came down to your knees, but to you, it was a perfect fit once you rolled up the sleeves.

You and Lee shared more wine, a white one this time as you devoured three helpings of the mouthwatering meatloaf and potatoes, for the only thing you had eaten in the past twenty four hours were Orlando's piece of toast and two bites of your ham sandwich. Once you had finished, Lee started a fire in the living room as you slipped on your leggings due to the chilly evening and then you cuddled on the couch with a blanket and wine and Lee's arm of safety around you as you then reluctantly told him all about the dream.

Once you had gotten it all out, you gazed up at him with welling eyes.

"Please...please Lee. Stay away from Elizabeth and as hard as I know that it is for you, please don't tell her or anyone even that you know the truth about Jacob's paternity. She only told Jason as far as I know and if she knows you know, she'll figure out he's alive and she'll run to Ethan about it and it will ruin whatever plan Jason has and it will even put him in more danger. As mad as I am at him, I don't want him to die for real. Just please, for now...promise me you'll stay out of it all. I..I know it was just a dream but I'm still scared nonetheless because I think Jacob was warning of something.... I...I can't lose you, I just can't. One week without you damn near killed me. Please promise me Lee!" you begged as your building tears finally flowed over.

"Hey, hey...I promise, I promise baby. I can do that for you to give you some kind of peace. All I really want is just to be with you, just like this and shut the fucking world out. Liz and Ethan, I believe, will be handled by karma and in the meantime, I will never ever let them hurt you." he sweetly assured as he wiped your tears.

"Here...I'll give you a symbol of my promise and my love for you." Lee continued and then reached over on the side table to pick up one of the red roses he brought in. He tore off a single petal and began to fold it into the shape of a heart as your hand laid gently upon his. Once he finished, he laced his fingers into yours.

"I think you can spell love." you told him as you peered up in his sapphire eyes. "For you just did with that beautiful heart."

Lee laid the heart petal down and pulled you against him where you laid your head over his own heart and listened to the distinct soothing sound that no other could match.

"How about a movie my girl? Maybe something funny or...romantic?" he said with the cutest smile.

"Ok. Anything that will keep me awake because I...I don't wanna dream any more."

"Well then...how about a Lord of the Rings trilogy marathon. There's some comedy in them and some love here and there."

"Perfect. My favorite movies are fantasy ones anyways and I love this one...the Hobbit too. You know? You'd make one damn sexy elf."

Lee bellowed out a hearty laugh. "Is that so? Even hotter than Legolas, Haldir or Thranduil?"

"Oh...waaaaay hotter babe."

"Mmmm. Alrighty then...I'll go make some popcorn!"

@redeemer46

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#lee pace #code blue #love stories #dark fiction #dark stories #doctors #angst #craig parker #craig parker fanfiction #lee pace fanfiction #ghosts #organized crime #lee pace smut #smut

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beansnpeets · 6 months

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I need to scream for a minute on this whole short-term rental thing going on right now in BC. This gets very angry and depressing, that's your warning. I'm so mad.

Landlords are screaming and crying and whining about how their investments are going to come crashing down on them because of the new rules about short-term rentals and I can't help but scream and cry back at them because they're the fucking reason the housing market is so fucked right now.

Like yeah. Your investments COULD come crashing down on you. THAT'S THE POINT OF INVESTMENTS. THAT THERE IS RISK. IF THERE WAS NO RISK IT WOULDN'T BE A REAL INVESTMENT ANYMORE. Like all these fucking rich pricks want to whine and complain that it's too much risk and they can't afford to blah blah blah, like okay and??? Did you think that nothing would ever change and you would just keep making more and more money without anything else happening?? Don't you realize that the more money you make off the poor, the less money the poor have??????? Like the entire reason investing works the way it does is because of risk. If there was absolutely no risk involved you wouldn't be able to make tons of money off of it. That's literally the point.

I hope the rest of the provinces follow suit and ban short-term rentals the same way BC is doing. Force these fucking assholes to sell. That way there will be a boom in properties for sale and prices will go down.

I'm a legal assistant. I make almost $20/hr. I can't afford a single rental in my rural community without a roommate. I can't even pay my own expenses right now without my partner. The most the bank will give me for a mortgage is $75k. Do you think there is a single house for sale in my area for that? There's one, and it's a fucking dump, the foundation is crumbling out from underneath it. I have a "real job" and I still can't afford to live. Everyone that keeps saying we need to just work harder and get real jobs and whatever else is so delusional. As if working at McDonald's isn't a real job?? Do you go to McDonald's? Do you expect there to be at least one or two competent adults preparing food? Food preparation. Fucking food preparation, which, if done wrong could be incredibly bad. You want that to be run entirely by high school students? Okay, then you can only go there in the evenings and on weekends. Sorry, no adults want to work here during business hours because they all have "real" jobs so if you want your Big Mac at noon on a Tuesday you're out of luck. And because they're children, they may not make the right choices and they may prepare your food wrong and it could make you sick. Adults make that mistake too, but children are still learning and growing and the chances they'll make that mistake are probably higher.

Those of us with the "real" jobs still don't make enough anyway. Prices are so badly inflated. Groceries cost more now than ever before. Gas prices are insane and it costs me $20 every time I drive to and from work because I have to live a half hour away from the town I work in because it's cheaper rent here and it's only cheaper because there's nothing in this town and the house I live in is hardly 600 sq.ft. I drive a 30 year old truck that's falling apart because I certainly can't afford a new vehicle and even if I could, they only last like 5 years anyway and are incredibly unreliable.

Oh and let's not even get into the insane crime rates and drug problem here. My town is second in the province for crime. A town of less than 4000 people is SECOND in the entire province for crime. The first being Thompson. Most businesses in town function with their doors locked all day and you have to knock or ring a doorbell to be let in. You can't just walk into most places anymore. You see broken windows all over town, lots of businesses have their windows boarded up. Lots of places are also closing earlier than they used to because if they're open after dark there's more crime. The grocery stores have security guards posted by the doors to deal with shoplifters. When I worked at a gas station I had a guy steal a carton of smokes out of my hands in broad daylight, not even hiding his face from the cameras. Also at the gas station I'd caught multiple people trying to use credit or debit cards that they had stolen and when the machine insisted they use the pin and they didn't know the pin they would leave. We had hundreds of dollars in theft the year that I was there of just drinks and snacks.

We ran into our local MP a few months ago, Jon's family knows him, and he was chatting with us about the budget and spending and he was SO proud of himself for a bunch of things that he didn't even have anything to do with and he was so proud of the budget and where money was being spent and blah blah blah, but I was sitting there boiling and seething and I wanted to scream at him and it took so much self-control not to because he is so out of touch and unfortunately he was re-elected this recent provincial election and I'm bitter about it. I'm so fucking bitter about it.

We are already working harder than any generation before us and we make so little. Things are worse financially than the great fucking depression and they want to tell us to just work harder?????? I'm going to explode. I'm so beyond angry. I am so fucking sick and tired of this and there's nothing I can do. I'm entirely powerless to all of this and that's gotta be the most frustrating part. The fact that things are falling apart around me and I can't do fucking anything to fix it. My future looks so fucking hopeless at no fault of my own. I've done everything I was supposed to do and yet here I am. Can't get by. Can't do the shit I want to do. Probably won't have a retirement and will have to work until I die or something.

#personal

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thesugarhole · 8 months

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quick venting post just as i finally began internalizing 'oh well play the cards im dealt' and try to find some comfort in the life i currently have and making future plans to go for an easier get-by once i have a safety net (savings) its like. im suddenly and steadily bombarded by messages like 'make sure you do what you want now dont let life take you on the predicted path its a risk you gotta take' like fucking hello??? theyre not mutually exclusive to a degree but its also... idk to explain its like if you dont have it planned from 10 years old then you might have some good experiences but its never the life youll want. and its direct conflit with 'never too late to start doing something'

yesterday night for example i opened the 'news' (its more articles full of advertising and soccer than actual news) tab on my phone and there was one like 'tips from CEO who retired at 44!' and it w

boiled down to, quote 'having life planned to the microscopic detail by the time she was 20' (im 27 this year, fucking come on) studied hard, worked hard for the first youthful years, made it to portugal microsoft ceo(?) and amassed enough to retire early.

it was mentioned she lost her parents early (at 50yos, but how old was she then?) that helped push her to plan it like this but like. well first of all i guess im still too bright eyed because i dont believe this ceo thing possible without loosing morals/ideals along the way (ive yet to met a ceo thats not incredibly out of touch and wants to fuck over everyone and everything for their own gain), but i find it harder to believe there was no silver spoon, especially for those first years. granted if shes 44 now she probably had an easier economy then, but hm. millions work hard from the moment theyre born, how come they don't retire at 44?

the investments. there it was. 'oh i invested in real estate and other small things' thats not hard work, thats gambling. and thats the exact moral loss i expected, the way real estate in portugal is now. and god this pisses me off so much what the FUCK does 'invest in real estate' EVEN MEAN?? you want me to buy stocks off some company?? you want me to buy a house and become a landlord?? i dont even have a place for myself, much less for the tourists and digital nomads. and for every one person saying they got rich off investing, oh you gotta invest smart etc theres 10 currently trying and bleeding money and about 30 that already gave up on it. like it genuinely feels like any other get rich quick scheme where its disheartening that it worked for a couple people and those couple people already had money to begin with

idk if any if this is gonna make sense im writing from heart and whatever the text leads but you understand this right. like my current goal is to just find something later on that will pay decent, not make me slowly but steadily give up on it and have personal time for hobbies. and then i get this shit thrown at me. in 4 months ive been broken down enough that the ridiculous honey pot that is 'invest! stocks! etc!' is starting to appeal to me. like i am not going to be different from the other failure cases im not one lottery away from being set for life. and at the very least im not putting money in the machine selling 40m2 studio apartments for 1 million euros to foreigners while throwing people in the streets if they had houses, jail if they were illegally occupying abandoned houses with no roof. fuck sakes

#this article was right before sleep so i was like im not going to bed angry. im gonna wake up angry and reflect on this #there is no escaping work but at least let me escape soul sucking work for pennies #saw a post yesterday about american minimum wage being 7 dollars at worst and wanted to throw a table no wonder you cunts all come here #a wage for someone with a masters degree is 6 per hour and a couple a cents. i cant afford anything #if someones making the bigger minimum wages like 12 dollars /h i think? then of course portugal homes sell for peanuts its sims 2 prices #i want to burn every real estate store that ever was and sell 1bed 1bathrooms for 30k as god intented. maybe even lower!#sugar.txt #likely to delete this in the future

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crazy56u · 1 year

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Well, it's been three weeks, and apparently it's now a straight shot to the season finale with no breaks in sight, let's go.

Last time on Quantum Leap, Ian caused the plot. Meanwhile, in Hell's Kitchen...

I never had Indian food, I've always wanted to try it.

"You've gotta stop eating the merchandise." Out of context, that's a drug dealer line.

Okay, so that memorial Ben passed was the dad, I had a hunch.

I choose to believe Ian was staring at that drawing for all three weeks.

"Did you leap?" Well, not yet, Magic, catch the fuck up.

Also, I'm pretty fucking sure Ian leaping occurs in the season finale.

"Not you you, just future you." Distinction without a difference.

Meanwhile, Ben's back in the same fucking alley from the 1980s.

OH fuck, why is Ben in 2009...

The editor is having epilepsy.

I love the implication that Addison just knew that off the top of her head, and she didn't need Ziggy for it.

"HEY RANDOM PERSON TALKING TO THEMSELVES, IT'S MUGGING TIME!"

Ah. A landlord. Starting to piece together why the building burned down.

"Look, you want your money, I don't wanna be choked, life's shit for everyone."

Addison, he's clearly fucking lying, keep up.

"This is your last chance. We both know there's a good chance I'm the one who causes the building to catch fire. I ain't fucking around."

...okay, is that foreshadowing that Ben's about to cause this mom's heart attack as well?

"What's all this?" A giant iPad, obviously.

Look, Ian, I get it, you're stressed out about causing the show to happen in the future, but take a breath.

"No one here believes you're a risk. Janis is more of a threat than you, and we still have her locked in the broom closet!"

"We owe $30,000, just get an extension, you're acting like she tried to murder you in the alley!"

"Web-sheb". Not entirely convinced that wasn't supposed to be "web shit".

Oh God, that beast of a computer...

Why is this turning into the plot of Ratatouille?

"They were going to see the pyramids this year." Calling it now, that was supposed to be the episode, but budget cuts happened.

Ben Song: Can handle space, but not family trauma.

Corpse or Sleep?

Sleep.

Bro wants to ditch work to grab sick kicks, right as the mom is experiencing carpal tunnel.

Okay, this really is Hell's Kitchen if all of these conflicts are snowballing into one clump...

I hope "Dimpy" is actually a nickname, but chances are it's not.

Okay, so, let's total it up: Massive debt, stuck on the past, lingering presence of dead father, baby mama drama, skipping work for new shoes, nerve damage, and pride above all else. And a fire as the bow on top.

200 people in 2009, that's basically the end of days.

Someone's about to get slapped.

"See, this is how you react, being upset that I said your dreams are bullshit!"

[This is the most fucking ominous commercial for Airbnb...]

I was so distracted by Ian's sick tattoos, I failed to realize Ian got a subplot this week.

[As a sidenote, my stance is that people are only complaining about the Project subplots because the show is stuck to 42 minutes a pop; not nearly as many people would be complaining if the episodes were a few minutes longer. The Project subplots aren't bad, the episodes are just compact.]

"Didn't you just call me useless?" "Stop focusing on the past!" "Kinda difficult for that!"

"What else you can do to save a restaurant other than bring in new customers?" ...burn it down the the insurance money is my immediate answer, but I don't think that applies this time...

[I was busy blowing my nose, I missed all of Ben's phone call.]

The mom's impatience going to fucking be the death of her.

"Only in America" will wear itself out pretty fucking quick, ma'am. Trust me...

Annnnnnd the heart attack.

...why am I not surprised Ian was a "Pretty Little Liars" fan?

Is it just me, or does she look like Mila Kunis?

And the mom is still on the floor...

And Ben now has PTSD...

"Your mom had an aneurysm. She didn't. Get the fucking first aid kit."

Okay, I have to side with the mom on this one about the world being harsh, but only because she's in 2009, and I'm in 2023, and I know how bad it gets.

Okay, so now it's 300 people, now it's the end times.

Meanwhile in Oregon, I guess...

They're having out at a pizza place, this episode is clearly inspired by Pizza Tower.

The American Dream = Greasy cheese pizza.

Look, to be fair, spicy food has caused lawsuits. Google "Doritos Roulette".

...okay, calling it now, the landlord got impatient.

Can't tell if CGI or actual explosion...

"2% is low, but not zero." Quantum Leap is an educational show.

AND I'm pretty sure I was right about the landlord.

"Just because we don't have a restaurant doesn't mean we don't have a restaurant!"

Ben's about to invent the pop up restaurant.

[Firefox is lagging the fuck out right now.]

I wonder how much money they spent renting out this location, because 100% not a set...

"Everything you do, you do for a good reason." There, you see, Ian's justified in causing the show to happen.

This looks like a wedding reception.

"I tracked down a few weddings-" CALLED IT

All it took for her to let people in was the landlord being a bitch.

"And so a child will lead them", quite literally.

[Seriously, Firefox is taking a minute to finish adding the sentence I typed in 20 seconds.]

All of this sick ass food is making me regret having pasta alfredo for dinner.

"We'll be serving family style." Mic drop.

I swear to God if the landlord is holding up the investor...

"Ironically, he has food poisoning..." That doesn't negate my guess...

Did they just invent Patreon in 2009?

And the landlord is SEETHING off in the distance.

YEAH, THAT'S RIGHT, FUCK YOU KATHY! GO DOWN IN FLAMES LIKE AL CAPONE!

"You two don't need me." Okay, is it bad that I thought she'd immediately have a heart attack then and there?

[It's down to the wire, Firefox is on its last legs...]

And Ben's reward for saying "I love you, Mom"? Playing Battleship with Brandon Routh.

Holy shit, that boat CGI was bad...

[Also, why do I get the suspicion the plot of next week's episode involves preventing World War III?]

Well, I managed to finish the liveblog, in spite of Firefox slowly dying!

Burn in Hell, Kathy.

#quantum leap #family style #spoilers #pizza tower #hell's kitchen #next episode promo #battleship

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wallabywannabe · 6 months

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My sister is renting a basement unit in a house, and the girl she's renting from (through?) is a business major in her mid twenties who clearly has no idea what she's doing but has drunk the hustle-culture koolaid so hard.

Like, this family owns the house, but they don't want to deal with the details of renting it out, so they "hired" this girl to do it, and this girl keeps acting like she's an equal renter with everyone else in the house, but she's clearly subletting to the rest of them and making a profit. When Cara was hesitant about the price, she dropped it by $500/month without even taking a second to consult the owners first. She had Cara sign a lease, but it was like a basic barebones doc with this girl listed as the landlord and no other normal provisions that landlords typically require of renters. Then she was like, hey, also sign this saying you agree to the main lease! And Cara was like, well obviously I'm not going to sign it when I haven't even read the main lease. And she was like, oh, don't worry it's exactly the same as the first one you signed!

Eventually she did send her the main lease, and it was NOT the same (it had actual lease stuff). And it said all members of the house would be jointly responsible for the monthly rent of ____, with the actual number blacked out. So she doesn'want the rest of the renters to know what the owner is actually charging in rent.

Absolutely insane. I brainstormed with her and Cara's going to create a roommate agreement that clearly outlines how much she will be required to pay so she's not at risk of being on the hook for the full amount, and let this girl make a mess of her own finances as she likes. I can't figure out the mechanics of the exact money making scheme at work here, and there have been a lot of other details that don't make any sense, but Cara did meet the actual owners in the house while they were moving out and did talk to them about the basics, so I can only assume they also have no idea what they're doing and it's not her circus to worry about.

#it's so good that she has a place though #living with our parents for the past 3 months and commuting 2 hours a day in Atlanta traffic was really taking a toll on her mental #and physical health #and normally anomalously excellently mentally healthy

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babblydrabbly · 3 years

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You Were In The Darkness Too (Cleo Cazo x Reader) Pt. 2

Pairing(s): Cleo Cazo/Ratcatcher II x F!Reader

Characters: Cleo Cazo/Ratcatcher II

Rating: General

Word Count: 1k+

Warning(s): Language, rats (ovbs), mentions of assault (mugging), The Suicide Squad (2021) spoilers.

Summary: You don't know how to thank Cleo for her help— But you do know how to make breakfast. Part 2/4

A/N: Pt. (1) This was going to be 3 parts but now it's gonna be 4! I know how it ends but I want to take my time getting there haha. Inspired by this prompt list, #44 Tentative kisses given in the dark (eventually).

---

You groaned as you reached up at your bathroom window from the outside, shoving at it and praying that it was open. It budged; You sighed, relieved, and glanced down at the woman standing below you. Cleo waited patiently in the alleyway of your dingy apartment building.

In the light of late morning, you saw that Cleo was taller than you— When she stood up straight, uncurling from her cautious movements down underground. You also saw that she had short, dark hair, and a pair of striking green eyes. They stood out from the black of her clothes, her curious mask.

You had said nothing to her as she led you through Gotham’s sewers. She apologized for taking you down a longer route, explained that anything more direct would lead you waist-deep in dirty water and garbage— And you’d had a difficult night.

She threw an encouraging smile over at you, telling you she didn’t want to make it any harder. You felt your lip tremble, nodding numbly as you trailed behind her.

She was peering curiously up at you now, her mask off and tucked away in the bag she kept on her shoulder. You lingered at the window, worrying at your bottom lip.

Cleo watched you close and release you fist nervously at your side a few times in thought. She noted an angry bruise on your elbow now that the two of you were above ground— Probably from when you had been fending off the bad man in the subway. It pulled at her heartstrings. Your adrenaline gone now, you were most likely in more pain than before.

“Did you… Did you want to come inside for a bit?” You asked her.

She wasn't hesitant at all, flashing you an appreciative grin and hoisting herself up beside you.

And that’s how you ended up with a girl named Cleo Cazo in your bathroom, the soft sound of her humming drifting out into your studio as she took a shower. You helped her up into your window, offering to make her something to eat. It was the least you could do to thank her.

You opened your sparse fridge and pulled out a carton of eggs, some butter, an open package of bacon. You busied yourself with slicing up a loaf of bread you had taken home from work yesterday. It crackled pleasantly as you sawed off a few pieces.

Your ears pricked when you heard the water turn on. You glanced up at the bathroom door across the room, and then quickly darted your eyes away.

Cleo had stripped off her black jacket and gear; You saw the flash of a pale back before you realized that she had begun showering with the bathroom door open. After a moment, you chuckled to yourself— She certainly didn’t have a problem making herself at home.

A shower. Cleo squeeze a dollop of sweet smelling shampoo into her hand, grinning as she lathered it into her hair. She peered down at all your half empty bottles and tools— A loofah, something that looked like a little stone on a dish. Cleo hadn't showered in quite some time; She had yet to find a place to clean up. It was easy to find places to sleep, places to store belongings for later. Bathtubs weren't a priority for Cleo at the moment. Cleo scrubbed beneath her nails, singing to herself.

The small studio quickly filled with the smell off fried eggs and bacon as you kept your eyes down on the food in front of you. You both take about ten minutes— The faucet turning off around the same time you were done plating everything.

“Come, Sebastian.” You heard her say. It was followed by the light glug of a stopper being pulled out of the bathroom sink. Sebastian made a sound, and you couldn’t help but feel like it resembled a whine. When Cleo comes out in her black undershirt and pants, you offer her a mug of orange juice.

“I’m out of coffee. Hope this is alright.” You said sheepishly. She took the cup with her free hand, Sebastian sniffing around the air in her other.

“This is more than anything!” She exclaimed. Without waiting she moved to the food, taking up one of the stools that you kept tucked against the counter in lieu of an actual table.

“Oh, um,” You didn’t believe you were considering this, but you were trying your best to show your graditude, “Does he want a plate too, or….?”

Cleo shook her head. “No, he’s alright.” You watched her break a piece of bacon in half and hand it to the rat; He took it in both paws. You noticed then that Sebastian had been freshly toweled off too— That must have been what the little bath in the sink had been for.

You sat on the other stool, still not sure if you wanted to eat or not. You prodded the eggs with a fork distractedly.

The feeling of the man’s grip on your jacket had hit you again— The shove, the falling. You swallowed thickly, feeling sick.

It wasn’t the first time you’d been mugged. This was Gotham after all. You’d known when you took the bakery job you’d be risking it after dark. Still, you pushed the plate away, taking an unenthusiastic sip from your mug instead. Beside you, Cleo stopped stuffing her face hungrily.

“You’re hurt.” She said, gulping down what was in her mouth before sitting up.

You shook your head, “I’m alright— I’m just, shaken up. I—” You ran your hands over your bare arms. “I have to get a new pair of keys. I have to… ” Shit, there was no way you could afford a new phone right now. You huffed, tried to laugh it off. “I have to go back to work tonight.”

Cleo mulled your words over thoughtfully while Sebastian helped himself to the large slice of bread on her plate.

“I could walk you home tonight.”

You blinked up at her. “You would?”

She shrugged her thin frame. She took the bread back from Sebastian, and you tried not to giggle when he held out his little fingers, pouting. She took a bite.

“I don’t mind.” She reassured you.

Cleo, still new to Gotham and America in general, had spent the last few months alone. Well, without any people more than usual, anyway. It was what she was used to, but it had been a challenge now that she was in a new city, a new country. Despite what she had managed to save from pawning the trinkets the rats brought her, it had been hard finding a landlord to trust she could pay the rent.

She had been trying her best to start fresh. To live the kind of life that had a home and day jobs and bills. But it was an unfamiliar world— Cleo had grown up in something so different, so inexplicable to most.

"Let's be friends."

She said it so easily. So simply. It reminded you of when you were young. Of when saying 'friends' truly meant something— However far away childhood had seemed to you now. You took your mug, tapping it gently against the side of her. Cleo smiled.

"Friends." You said.

#cleo cazo x reader #ratcatcher ii x reader #cleo cazo x you #cleo cazo #Ratcatcher ii #tss 2021 #dceu fanfiction #this one is short but I intend on the last two being longer #Haha intention ;p

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renaerys · 3 years

Note

Prompt 50. But Berserk & Boomer😔👉👈💕

50. “I thought you left.”

We’re calling this one Unfortunately, She Impressed Him. This is a pair of characters I love with all my heart in any flavor of relationship and can’t wait to write more of in my ongoing multi-chapter fic Trinity House over on AO3.

This fic is part of a prompt challenge that is now closed to new requests, but you can read all the completed submissions here. Reminder that the challenge is to make everything SFW, so we’re getting creative here.

xxx

Boomer was halfway across the deserted lobby of Faust Keating Rogers, LLP when he realized he’d forgotten his keys at his desk. He groaned aloud because it was 8 p.m. and no one was around to hear him because they had all gone home to their families hours ago like normal people. Boomer didn’t have two to three kids and a house in the suburbs, though, and neither did his boss. The three hour lull reserved for dinner, baths, and bedtimes before the evening work-from-home grind offered him no alternative but to power through. He fully planned to grab take out on his way home and enjoy an episode of whatever was on HBOMax before getting back to the tedious work of reviewing the draft prospectus statement his boss had sent him to proof by tomorrow morning.

Except, his keys were forty floors up and he now had to risk running into her again when he’d managed to slip away so neatly. He’d even removed his tie on the elevator ride down, and now he rubbed his exposed neck, flushed with anxiety over what might happen if she saw him and asked him to stick around to finish the work here.

“Nice going, dumbass,” he lamented as he stepped onto the elevator and hit the button for the fortieth floor.

It wasn’t that Boomer disliked his job. In fact, he didn’t mind it at all. It was better than slinging drinks or waiting tables. He had health insurance, a steady paycheck, and a resumé that could proudly display the name of one of the most elite accounting firms in the country. He could pivot his career if he wanted to, as Brick would say. Boomer wasn’t thinking about his next job right now, though. Right now, he was thinking about this one and how his boss was a hard-ass and a workaholic even if she was brilliant, and how there was a one hundred percent chance she would detect him coming back to his desk (which was annoyingly set up right in front of her office so that he could answer her calls, manage her meetings, and deal with whoever passed close enough to her event horizon to get suckered into the latest heinous audit in need of staffing).

There were his traitorous keys sitting on the desk next to the framed picture of his brothers. He glared at them, as if they were a forgotten household item that had developed a supernatural grudge like in those old Japanese folktales he liked to read online. He half expected them to jingle and alert his boss to his presence, just to spite him.

They didn’t, and he slipped them into his pocket as quietly as could be. He released the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding and took a beat. It was quiet. Most of the offices were dark, save for a few poor souls in the large conference room stuck on the ongoing year-end audit for one of the firm’s most important clients: Unicorn, Inc. His boss’s office was also lit up behind her closed door, but she hadn’t called out to him like she would during the day when he got back from his lunch break hoping for a few minutes to catch up on emails in peace before she dumped more work on him.

This, of course, was odd. The small legion of assistants who had come before Boomer were notorious for their short-term employment working this specific desk. The work was demanding and so was the boss, but there was something else that set her apart from other senior associates in the International Tax Services division, something that seemed to intimidate away any support the higher ups sent her way. Denise a couple desks down had warned Boomer not to bring too many personal effects to the office; chances were he wasn’t going to last long. Boomer had smiled thinly and thanked Denise for her advice, and brought the picture of his brothers in the next morning because he had his pride and Brick told him it was healthy to indulge that once in a while. Brick would certainly know.

So here he was, uncertain. Anxiety over having to sit here for another two hours finishing work and having tepid Doordash delivered pulled him toward the elevator and escape, while that annoying, rare pride demanded he check on his boss and make sure she knew he was here to support her, lest she get the idea that he needed to be fired.

The longer he stood there, indecisive, the greater his curiosity grew. What was she doing in there? It was quiet, even when he strained his Super hearing. He could hear Dean Matheson pouring whiskey a few offices down (that guy had a drinking problem and everyone knew they only kept him around because he had the Unicorn, Inc. account), Adebayo Hansou on a conference call with Dubai that was escalating to profanity, Shelly Kim with her head down and typing away at an Excel spreadsheet like a pro. Their assistants were long gone for the night, but here was Boomer, loitering and indecisive and what is she doing in there not yelling at me when she definitely knows I’m here?

He couldn’t take it anymore. He knocked on the closed door—rap, rap, rap—and called out softly, “Berserk?”

A beat, then: “Come in.”

Finding his boss in upward facing dog while still in her pencil skirt was not a sight Boomer was prepared for. Berserk had her eyes closed as she stretched at a near ninety degree angle and listened to music on her Airpods. Boomer had never seen her with her heels off and her mane of red hair thrown together in a messy bun; it was so casual that it was almost obscene.

“You’re staring.”

Fuck, he was staring and now she was looking right at him down her nose, even though she was the one on the floor. He stood up straighter, unable to help himself when she took that tone that reminded him so much of Brick’s when he was about to criticize, but he didn’t avert his gaze. “Sorry.”

She breathed in deeply through her nose and hoisted herself up into downward dog position. “Why are you here?”

Forgot my keys seemed like a really lame excuse that she’d probably laugh at him for, but he also was not in the habit of making shit up on the spot if he hoped to make people believe him. “I forgot my keys.” He took them from his pocket to show her, as if she might not know what keys are, as a concept.

“Smart locks.” Berserk exhaled and slowly walked her hands back on the yoga mat until she reached her feet and began to swing slowly left and right.

Huh? he almost said like an idiot, until he caught himself. “Don’t think my landlord would approve of me installing that.” Also, those things were like $200 a pop, which was not worth the occasional inconvenience and shame of forgetting his keys and then catching his boss doing yoga in her office after hours.

Berserk made some noncommittal sound like whatever, peasant and slowly uncurled upward one vertebra at a time. Boomer realized he was back to staring again, literally lingering in her door watching her and trying to equate this subdued, casual version of Berserk with the terse, no-nonsense businesswoman he was used to dealing with on a daily basis.

When she finally achieved her full height, she popped her neck. The hair that was too short for her bun fell in around her narrow face in a stylish, athleisure sort of way. The top buttons on her blouse were undone. She wore a small, golden necklace he’d never noticed before because he wasn’t in the habit of checking out his boss. “I thought you left.”

The accusatory nature of her words were totally at odds with her flat tone, only the barest hint of curiosity dangling there at the end, like she expected him to respond.

Oh, she expected him to respond.

Boomer took another step into her office because he was full of poor judgment today. “I forgot my keys.”

At which point he showed her his keys again and also had a mild stroke, because what the fuck are you doing, mate?

Berserk smiled. “Yeah, I got that part.”

Was she laughing at him? He had never heard her laugh before, unless it was at Dean Matheson, that comb-over in denial who, in addition to being a high functioning alcoholic, also had a reputation for throwing associates under the bus when a client wasn’t happy.

Boomer smiled back, because that was what he did when people smiled at him, and ‘people’ now included Berserk, apparently.

“Well, since you’re here,” she said as she padded around to her desk.

Crap, there was the work he was afraid of soliciting from her by remaining in the building. He debated an excuse to give her: picking up dry cleaning? Plausible, but transparent. Meeting up with his brothers? No, she’d probably make him stay all night for the chance to ruin Brick’s plans.

“Thai or Mexican?”

Boomer stared dumbly. He was becoming quite good at that (10,000 hours and you can become an expert at anything, they say). “Huh?”

The yoga must have put Berserk in an exceedingly gracious mood, because she actually repeated her question without getting that look on her face like she was picturing him getting trampled by stampeding monsters. “Thai or Mexican? I don’t have a preference.”

Oh.

Boomer’s stomach picked that time to snarl at him—8 p.m. and still no dinner, the fiend.

Berserk snorted in laughter and fanned herself with her phone. “Jesus. Mexican it is.”

Which was how Boomer found himself on the small sofa tucked in the corner of Berserk’s office, shoes off and belt loosened, with enough tacos, tamales, and rice and beans to feed a small family. He even had a beer from the mini fridge Berserk kept under her desk.

She hadn’t stayed late to work. Well, she had, but only because she didn’t have a reason to go home.

“I just hate getting home to a dark apartment sometimes,” she said in between bites of food. She had her legs tucked up under her on the sofa close enough to brush Boomer’s thigh if he reached to grab the salsa.

“I thought you lived with your sister?”

“Brute got her own place a few months ago. The arrangement was only temporary while she was in between jobs.”

It was weird knowing so little about a person whose whole family had been in Boomer’s inner orbit since childhood. As far as he knew, Berserk wasn’t close to any of her cousins, not even Blossom. Boomer himself had never been more eager to leave a room than when Brat walked into it. Only Butch, Brute, and Buttercup had ever found common ground among each other once the sworn rivalries and blood feuds of their youth gave way to teenage rebellion against their respective overlord fathers and then the slog of adulthood that was inescapable even for a bunch of Supers flying high on Chemical X.

The fact that Boomer had gotten this job surprised him more than anyone. After drifting from restaurant jobs to office temp placements over the last six years, he’d never thought he would dust off his economics degree and land a temp-to-permanent position that seemed way above his qualifications. And he never thought it would be working for a woman he’d most definitely electrocuted in battle at least a dozen times before puberty.

“What?”

Boomer blinked. He’d been staring again, Jesus Christ. “Sorry, I was just thinking… I didn't know that. I’ve been working here for five months and I don’t actually know much about you at all.”

“Hm.”

Her magenta eyes were wine-dark against the murky sky beyond the window forty stories up. Boomer did avert his gaze this time to reach for the salsa, but he didn’t use it.

“I don’t even know why you invited me to stay for dinner in the office if we’re not going to do any work.”

“Why did you stay?”

“For the free food.”

Berserk grinned—the third time she had smiled at him tonight (or ever). He needed to stop counting; he’d be disappointed when it stopped happening tomorrow.

“Don’t get used to it. Much as I appreciate the company now and again, there’s no need for both of us to be stuck here while Matheson’s breathing down the associates’ necks. Can’t have him poaching you out from under me.”

“Well, I don’t work for him; I work for you.”

“It’s sweet how you don’t understand office politics.” She ate a lone slice of avocado with a fork. “He landed Unicorn back when they were early stage, and back when he was still putting in the work to earn his reputation. But since they IPO’d three years ago and make up twenty percent of our revenue now, he’s just another big name coasting by on associate work. You know he regularly schedules client calls and just doesn’t bother to show up? He forgets half the time, and the other half he’s busy playing golf or buying a yacht or whatever the fuck rich, white Boomers do.”

“Well, as a Boomer myself, I can say I’ve spent exactly zero hours buying yachts.”

She chuckled. Fourth time. “Oh, really.”

“Never even thought of yachts. As far as I’m concerned, they’re not even real.”

“Thanks for your expert opinion.”

“Any time.” Boomer turned his body to face her and draped his arm over the back of the sofa. With only the soft light from the floor lamp in the corner, he imagined himself adrift in the darkness, the sky scraper lights nearby stars. It was a lonely thought, one made romantic in the knowledge that she was here too, and he wasn’t actually alone.

“Matheson almost did poach you, you know.”

“What do you mean?” Boomer couldn’t recall exchanging more than a few words with the man.

“When we were filling support positions. Someone recognized you from the news a few years back, when the Cyclops Monster attacked the marina district and you and your brothers took it out. Matheson got it in his head that you’d be able to work at Super speed and help lower his billables.”

“Wow. Maybe you should’ve let him. What do you think the net savings would be in yacht units of measurement?”

Berserk rolled her eyes, but she was smiling again. “I claimed you before he could get the paperwork in.”

Boomer hyper-focused on that word: claimed. He also pointedly ignored it entirely, much in the same way he ignored the new count of five smiles tonight. “Showed him your bending powers, did you?”

Berserk’s Corona bottle turned frosty under her hand in a totally unnecessary, big dick energy display of said powers, and she took another sip. “No. Sharon from HR likes me. And I promised her I wouldn’t fire you after three months like your predecessors.”

Flattered was not how Boomer would describe the feeling of being claimed by Berserk and eluding Matheson’s vampiric clutches. But he was a bit tickled all the same. This was the woman Butch had once described as essentially Brick, if he were constipated all the time.

And then he realized what she was doing. “Hey, you’re sharing things about yourself.”

She clinked her bottle to his, and Boomer shivered at the frosty chill she transferred on contact. “Aw, you figured it out all by yourself.”

“Ha ha.”

She didn’t quite smile, but she did look kind of serene then, content even, as she lay back against the arm of the sofa and yawned. Her gold necklace—just a simple disk with an engraving Boomer could not make out—reflected the lamp light when she moved. It rested just beneath her collarbone, which had suddenly become the single-most interesting part of Berserk, and oh no, was he interested—

“You’re staring again.”

Son of a bitch.

“Sorry,” he said automatically. “I didn’t mean to.”

Hard no. He was not allowed to be any percent attracted to Berserk. First, she was his boss, and there was a cliché here that, while subverted on the gender role spectrum, was still very risky for both of them. Second, she was Berserk, a fellow Super, cousin to his best friend Bubbles and a shrewd, stiletto bitch in Brick’s estimation, which sounded bad. Not that she was bad, or even evil, unless you counted helping rich corporations accurately report their taxes while taking advantage of the many egregious loopholes in the Internal Revenue Code. Which, okay, point taken, but he also worked here and anyway, people should not be deemed good or evil so much as their choices ought to be—

“Are you thinking about fucking me?”

You shrewd, stiletto bitch!

She was smiling again, and Boomer pathetically logged that as the sixth time, although he wasn’t sure he should count it given the overt malice behind it.

Unfortunately, Boomer was, as had been previously established, very bad at making shit up on the fly. So he miserably said, “Yeah.”

“Hm.”

She sipped her beer slowly, and of course he watched. If it was out in the open, as fleeting a bout of insanity as it may have been, at least he could wallow in it without worrying about appearances.

It was the yoga. That fucking upward facing dog, Jesus Christ.

It was more than that too. Over the last few months, he had worked closely with her, watched her navigate the cutthroat halls full of piranhas like Matheson and other account managers, getting herself work on the best clients while managing her juniors with efficiency and professionalism. She was excellent and sharp, and she demanded excellency and sharpness in kind. After years of going it alone or temping for bosses who didn’t care enough even to learn his name, much less provide him with guidance and mentorship, it was an unspeakable relief to work under someone who knew how to rally the troops. Someone who knew how to lead, how to motivate, and how to reward loyalty with loyalty in return. It didn’t hurt that she looked amazing in her daily stilettos, either.

Unfortunately, she impressed him.

“I have some work to get done tonight.” Berserk stood up and smoothed her skirt.

Boomer scrambled to his feet. “Of course! Um.” He began closing food containers and repackaging them in the bags they’d come in, because he was panicking. “I’ll get rid of the trash. Do you want the leftovers in the fridge?”

“You take them. Otherwise my office will smell like a burrito for a week.”

“Okay.” Numbly, Boomer finished packing everything up, while Berserk made her way back to her desk and logged into her computer to check her emails.

Boomer lingered at the door. “I’ll have the prospectus back to you later tonight.”

“Thanks.”

Wow, way to go, stud.

He turned to leave, but her voice stopped him.

“Boomer?”

“Yeah?”

“Friday is good.”

He stared back at her in expert mode. “Huh?”

Berserk poked her head around the side of her large, external monitor. She was smiling again. Lucky number seven. “For fucking.”

“Okay,” Boomer said.

Okay?!

She pulled back behind her monitor. “I was going to get a cat, but you’ll do much better.”

Because she didn’t like going home to a dark, empty apartment alone. With no one to fuck.

“That was a joke.”

“Yeah, I got that,” he croaked.

Friday is for fucking, he thought, which was delightful alliteration and also completely insane and one hundred percent something he was getting more on board with by the nanosecond.

“See you tomorrow,” she said.

Boomer clutched the leftover Mexican food in his fist. “Okay. Goodnight.”

It took him the time to fly home and put the food away in his small fridge to realize that he had a sort-of date with Berserk lined up for two days from now.

He Y-posed at the window and whooped, “Hell yes!!”

Loud pounding in the floor followed by old Mrs. Cruikshank’s muffled Keep it down! couldn’t bring down his mood.

Boomer leaped onto his threadbare, living room sofa with his work laptop and took to the prospectus with alacrity. He’d send over superior work product and make Berserk’s job just that much easier tomorrow morning.

xxx

If you enjoy my writing, check out more of my fics on AO3, link in my profile. I’m currently updating Trinity House (which has a lot more Berserk and Boomer content, btw!) and The Alchemy of Us. Thanks for reading!

#powerpuff girls #powerpuff girls fanfic #bersoomer #ppg berserk #ppg boomer #september fic prompts #so this turned into a 3k one shot because i love these characters and i couldn't help myself #tfw considering a part 2

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theyrejustboys · 3 years

Text

Written for @tma-valentines-exchange

For @voiceless-terror, who requested fluff and pre-canon JonTim. I hope you enjoy it!

Read it on AO3 or under the cut!

Content Warnings: drinking, alcohol

Summary: Tim half expects Jon to be embarrassed, but he just blinks up at him, still apparently in the dazed, barely conscious state of waking. Then he stretches, arms reaching over his head and back arching slightly. He makes an honest to goodness squeak as he does. Exactly like a little cat. Tim wants to kiss him.

Oh. Tim wants to kiss him.

So it hadn’t just been the alcohol last night, then.

The first thing that Tim becomes aware of as he’s pulled unwillingly from slumber is the gentle weight pressing down on his legs. The second is the cold hand resting lightly on the strip of bare skin where his t-shirt has risen up in the night. He stirs reluctantly. When he finally opens his eyes, his bedroom is blurry, and he has to blink a few times to clear his vision and his head as the world forms in pieces around him. There’s a low thrumming in his skull that bears the potential of a fully fledged headache if not dealt with swiftly. Perhaps that’s why it takes him another few moments for the implications of the small body snuggled against him to set in.

He can’t see the face of the person in bed with him, not without turning and risking waking them up, but his memories from last night are pouring in too quickly to leave him with any doubt.

---

“Shame Sasha couldn’t make it,” Tim said, sliding into the booth across from Jon.

Jon nodded as he shrugged out of his corduroy jacket. “She’ll be missed,” he said, and if Tim hadn’t spent so long studying his facial expressions across his desk, he might not have noticed the slight upward quirk of his mouth.

“The first round shall be in her honor,” Tim said with only half Jon’s solemnity, lifting a hand to catch the waiter’s attention.

Jon let him order for the both of them, seemingly content to sit back and glance around the pub while Tim spoke. It was a quiet, if kitschy, little place, and Tim had chosen it strategically for that reason. He might not mind the atmosphere in some of London’s more crowded bars, but it had only taken one outing with Jon to realize how desperately uncomfortable that sort of chaos made him. He seemed appreciative of the location tonight, even gracing Tim with a reserved smile once the waiter had disappeared. Tim wanted to take that smile and store it in a treasure chest with all the other beautiful things Jon had offered him throughout their slow-blooming friendship. He smiled back.

“So, that case you were working on this week. Did you ever get past the hurdle with the widow?”

Jon leaned forward eagerly to explain his findings. Tim settled in to listen.

---

It’s Jon. Jon had come home with him. They’d both been too drunk to deal with the hassle of bundling Jon into a taxi, especially when Tim lived only two blocks behind the warm little pub they’d spent their Friday night in. It was convenient.

And now Tim is in bed with Jonathan Sims. Not just in bed, either - Jon is practically on top of him, with one leg slung over both of his own and the hand not resting against Tim’s hip nestled beneath the pillow Tim is lying on. If Tim is very still, he can feel the soft puff of Jon’s breath against his neck.

He resists the urge to hide the smile tugging at his lips. He’d suspected before last night that Jon was more tactile than he let on, but he hadn’t imagined he’d be this clingy.

He understands, of course, that Jon doesn’t feel safe often, that others have not allowed him the time to be cautious with his affection. It’s no secret in the research office that his snippiness and chronically furrowed brows have won him few friends. It’s taken Tim months of steady, gentle friendliness to break through Jon’s carefully prickly exterior into the softness he’d seen hiding beneath. It feels, in a way, like reaching a new level of a video game - once he’d gotten past the grouchiness, the wariness, and then the bashfulness, he’d unlocked the awkward but horribly endearing kindness. And cuddles, apparently.

It’s worth being patient for, worth earning. Tim’s chest feels tight with the weight of his fondness. He wants to pull Jon into his arms and hold him close like he had in the pub last night.

Before Tim can move, however, there's a mumble near his ear as he feels Jon shift. The leg draped over his own slides down. He hears a soft yawn, and then, before he can process that, Jon is rubbing his face into the back of Tim's shirt like a sleepy little cat. Tim grins and faces him.

"Good morning," he says.

Tim half expects Jon to be embarrassed, but he just blinks up at him, still apparently in the dazed, barely conscious state of waking. Then he stretches, arms reaching over his head and back arching slightly. He makes an honest to goodness squeak as he does. Exactly like a little cat.

Tim wants to kiss him.

Oh. Tim wants to kiss him.

So it hadn’t just been the alcohol last night, then.

Jon peers at him, apparently roused to alertness by whatever expression has taken over Tim’s face. "What?"

"Rest well?" Tim says in lieu of a response, because if he dwells on this development any longer he might do something foolish, like brush a hand through the wild mess of dark curls spread across both the pillow he had offered Jon last night and Tim’s own pillow.

"Yes," Jon says.

Ah, there's a touch of the primness Tim loves. “Glad to hear it,” he says, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. “I’ll take the bathroom first, if you don’t mind.”

He thinks Jon burrows deeper into the blankets as he leaves the room.

Across the hallway, Tim stares at his reflection in the vanity mirror. His heart is beating a little too quickly. "Keep it cool, Timothy," he warns himself. Then he splashes some water on his face and knocks back a couple of ibuprofen tablets before he brushes his teeth. "All yours," he calls into the bedroom when he finishes. Jon makes an unintelligible noise in response, and Tim huffs out a soft, breathless laugh as he crosses the flat toward his kitchen.

---

“... but my landlord is utterly heartless,” Jon concluded, looking rather dejected as he finished off his third pint. “He wouldn’t budge on the no pets rule, even for the Captain.”

Tim made a quiet, sympathetic noise, handing back Jon’s mobile after having admired the extraordinarily fluffy cat on the shelter’s front page for an appropriate length of time. “I would have,” he vowed. “For the Captain. Anything for him.”

Jon’s eyes shone briefly, and Tim wondered if he was going to cry. He just sniffed with marginally less dignity than usual and accepted the mobile. “Yes, well,” he said after taking a beat to gather himself. “You’re nice. Of course you would.”

“You think I’m nice?” Tim grinned, propping his elbows on the table and resting his chin in his hand.

“Yes,” Jon said simply.

“Careful, Jon, if you keep up this sweetness I’ll have no choice but to hug you.” Tim was only half-joking.

Jon ducked his head and mumbled, “Well. You could.”

“What?” For a moment, Tim thought he’d misunderstood.

“I said you could.” Jon didn’t look up at him. “If you wanted. I wouldn’t mind.”

Tim could feel his cheeks begin to ache from the force of his smile. He stood quickly and slid into the opposite side of the booth. Jon didn’t pull away as he moved closer, only sat looking at him expectantly from the corner of his eye. “Bring it in, then,” Tim said, and he draped one arm around Jon’s narrow shoulders.

Jon sat stiff and awkward at first contact, but then he melted against him. He rested his head in the crook beneath Tim’s collarbone, sighing so softly Tim could barely hear it over the quiet clatter of the pub. “Thank you.”

“For what?” Tim asked. His voice came out a bit strangled from the sudden warm pressure in his chest.

“For being a nice person,” Jon said with a trace of his familiar exasperation but none of the spikiness. As if it were obvious, as if Tim could see it if only he paid attention.

Tim had been paying attention for a while now. He thought he understood what Jon meant. “Of course,” he said. He didn’t pull away. Neither did Jon.

---

He’s measuring out flour into a glass bowl when he hears Jon pad into the kitchen, and for one exhilarating second Tim wonders if he’s going to hug him from behind. He doesn’t. Tim lingers over the bowl for a few breaths more, then turns to face him. “I’m making muffins,” he announces.

Jon looks surprised. “You bake?”

Tim is momentarily distracted by the way Jon’s hair is piled on top of his head, wrangled into what might generously be called a bun. There are strands hanging around his cheekbones that Tim desperately wants to tuck behind his ears. He clears his throat and tosses a grin over his shoulder as he faces his mixing bowl again. “Why Jon, did you not notice the stupendous cakes I’ve brought to every office party this year? Of course I bake.”

“Oh,” Jon says. “I don’t usually stick around those long enough to eat anything.”

“You will once you’ve had a taste of my baking skills,” Tim promises. “These are going to be the best muffins you’ve tasted in your life.”

“My expectations are high,” Jon says in his dry voice. Months ago, Tim might have thought he was mocking him, but now he recognizes it for the friendly teasing it is. It makes something warm and lofty expand in his chest. Then, a moment later Jon asks, “Can I help?”

Tim opens his mouth to say no, that he’s a guest and should sit down and relax while Tim takes care of everything. He glances over again as Jon steps closer, fidgeting with the sleeve of his hoodie. It’s too long, dangling a few centimeters past his fingertips.

It’s Tim’s hoodie, he realizes with a start. His mouth shuts with a click. He wants to stare at Jon. He wants to turn his face away in case his adoration is too obvious. He still wants to kiss him.

Jon just watches him, picking restlessly at the fabric. He almost looks hopeful. Oh.

Tim gestures with his head toward the fruit basket on the countertop. “Dice an apple for me?”

“Sure.” Tim can hear the smile in his voice.

They work quietly for a few minutes, the only noise coming from the soft click of Jon’s knife against the cutting board and the muted sound of Tim’s whisk in the bowl. Once the fruit is mixed in with the batter, Jon watches as Tim carefully measures equal portions into his muffin tin and slides them into his oven. Tim has a sudden urge to turn on some music, to see if Jon might let him wrap his arms around him and spin him beneath the dim kitchen light.

“How much do you remember from last night?” Jon asks before he can.

Tim leans against the countertop. “Everything,” he says. Then he hesitates. “I think,” he adds nervously. “We weren’t that drunk, were we? Why do you ask?” He would have remembered if he’d -

Jon crosses the floor to the little table in Tim’s entryway. He has a habit of dropping his things there when he walks inside each evening, keys, wallet, and whatever else has accumulated in his pockets throughout the day. Jon rummages in the clutter before waving a short, shiny strip of paper triumphantly.

“Oh,” Tim says. No, he hadn’t forgotten that at all. “Right.”

---

Jon was the one who had pointed out the photo booth. Tim knew it was there - he’d spent a couple of tipsy evenings in it before. The last time had been with Danny. Maybe that memory was the reason he hadn’t brought it up to Jon. Maybe it was just that he didn’t think Jon was the sort to relax enough to enjoy something as trivial and objectively silly as a photo booth.

But Jon herded him away from their table and into the little box at the back of the pub with the same determination he directed toward his work, drawing the black curtain closed as Tim fiddled with the buttons. It smelled vaguely of wine inside. Jon didn’t seem to notice.

“I’ve never done this before,” Jon confessed. He’d had enough drinks by now that there was an airy quality to his voice. He suppressed a yawn. “But I’ve always wanted to.”

“Really?”

Jon nodded. “Never had anyone to do it with,” he said, sounding almost ashamed.

Tim decided not to point out that wasn’t the part he’d been surprised about. “You have me,” he said, settling back as the countdown began for the first photo.

Jon stared at the camera, head tilted slightly as he arranged a smile on his face. “Yes,” he said, then jumped at the flash. The countdown began again. Jon moved closer to Tim, brushing their arms together. “I do have you. I’m glad for that.”

Tim faltered, turning from the camera to look at Jon. Jon glanced up at him, and the careful smile on his face faded to something softer, gentler. Tim’s breath hitched. He’d like to kiss Jon like this, he realized, when he’s open and vulnerable and trusting. He leaned down slightly, suddenly breathless as he lifted a hand to cup Jon’s cheek. “Jon -”

The second camera flash made them both flinch hard, and Jon let out a startled noise that was almost a laugh, hiding his face in the collar of Tim’s shirt as if embarrassed. Tim laughed too, though he could barely hear himself over the pounding in his ears. He let his hand slide around the back of Jon’s head, cradling him, as if that was what he’d meant to do all along. He wondered if Jon could feel his heart thudding against his chest.

Before the last flash lit up the booth, Tim closed his eyes and pressed his forehead into Jon’s hair.

---

“I told you, you’re adorable,” Tim crows.

Jon splutters again, looking down at the photos in his hand in disbelief. “I’m an adult,” he says petulantly. “I can’t be adorable.”

Tim gasps, affronted. “Jonathan Sims! Are you putting an age limit on adorableness ? Please tell me you aren’t suggesting that I can’t be adorable.”

“I didn’t say that,” Jon grumbles.

“Good. I didn’t want to fight for my honor before breakfast.” Tim smirks at him and hopes the teasing is enough to distract from the painfully obvious yearning in his eyes on the strip of photo paper. His hand itches to take it from Jon, to cover up what feels practically like a confession, but he forces himself to be reasonable.

His oven timer beeps, drawing him from his nervous thoughts, and he busies himself tending to the muffins. Mercifully, Jon sets the photo strip aside to rummage in Tim’s cabinets for a pair of plates.

They migrate to the couch and eat quietly. Jon admits that Tim’s baking skills are rather spectacular, and Tim preens a normal amount. He wants to hug Jon again, but he resists. Whatever ease with which Jon had touched Tim the night before seems to have faded. His posture seems a bit stiffer, and he keeps his hands tucked closely in his lap, though Tim does catch him casting contemplative glances his way when he thinks he isn’t looking. He wonders how long it’s been since Jon has received affection.

Jon should receive affection always, Tim thinks, and should be held gently at each opportunity. He hopes he’s given another opportunity to hold Jon soon. He doesn’t push for it, though, doesn’t want to make Jon uncomfortable. He’s waited months to earn the trust he’s been allowed so far; he can be patient again.

“Tim,” Jon says after they’ve sat in silence for a few minutes.

“Yes?” Tim gives him an encouraging smile.

“I’ve - I’ve had a lovely time.” Jon doesn’t meet his eyes.

“That’s the Stoker guarantee,” Tim says with a smirk, though his chest twinges uncomfortably. There’s a but in there.

Jon takes a deep breath. “Yes. Well. Thank you. And - that is, I wanted to say…” He pauses. Opens his mouth and shuts it again.

That feeling in Tim’s chest is sinking lower. He waits.

Jon shifts abruptly, turning to fully face him on the couch. “Tim,” he says.

“Jon,” Tim answers quietly.

And then Jon surges forward and presses a chaste kiss into Tim’s jaw.

"Oh," Tim says. His hand flies up to touch his face.

Jon scrambles backward, blushing deeply. “Yes. Well,” he says again. “That’s all. Sorry, I should have -”

“Jon,” Tim says, “can I hug you?”

Jon makes another one of his soft little squeaks and nods wordlessly before tumbling forward into Tim’s arms. After a moment, he curls himself up smaller, wiggling onto Tim’s lap so as to better cling to him. Tim, very carefully, does not move except to tighten his hold on him.

“If you’re amenable,” Jon finally says, voice muffled in Tim’s shirt, “I would like to do this again sometime.”

Tim stifles a laugh. “And by this, you mean…?”

Jon sits up slightly, though he pouts a bit as he does. “Drinks? Dinner? And then cuddles. And I would like you to hug me again as soon as possible.”

“I don’t have to stop hugging you,” Tim points out. “You don’t have to leave. You can stay right here -” He pats his lap for emphasis. “For as long as you like.”

“You don’t mind?” Jon asks, peering up at him.

“Do I need to convince you how much I like hugging you?”

Jon considers. “No. But you could demonstrate anyway.”

Tim does.

#tma valentine's exchange #jontim #tmafic #geo writes

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heartbaz · 3 years

Text

Magpie's happy ending (Renegade)

Of all the calls she imagined, Magpie never thought she would receive one from Tamaya Rae herself asking for help in reorganizing the items in the old weapons and artifacts department.

After "Supernova", the renegade headquarters was closed for months. It was no longer necessary to have a superhero building when superheroes no longer existed. Despite not being such an important issue, some rumors and theories spread, mostly saying that the tower would be demolished at some point.

But apparently that would not be the case.

From what heroin told her, they wanted the renegade headquarters to be a kind of museum on the second floors, which would display the artifacts stored, as well as the costumes of heroes of the old Council, photographs, news and all those things that she found it a waste of time and space to display and risk someone stealing them just like that, especially the dangerous artifacts that were in that place, but the opinion of an 11-year-old orphan girl was not so important.

When he entered the building he studied the place, which was being remodeled. He expected them to build statues of the Council, the Sketch team, a large painting, or something extravagant and flashy, typical of the renegades, especially Hugh, Captain Chromium. But he was surprised to see that it was the same as before, except that everything was new, in fact the quarantine was still under reconstruction, even Max Everhart himself was tidying up the glass city.

She realized too late that she had been staring at him for too long, a certain interest welling up in the girl at the tender expressions the boy was making as best he could arranging a four-story building near a park. Max had looked up for a second and noticed that the little blue eyes were watching him. Before receiving any gesture of greeting from the blond boy, she turned a little blushing and followed his path with a hurried step to enter the elevator and descend.

When the doors opened she could hear in the distance a conversation coming from the room of the dangerous artifacts, the voice was of two girls. when she got a little closer she realized that it was a dispute between Monarch and Nova. Nothing serious, they were just talking about some glasses and their use, something that did not interest her, she was coming for the jewelry and to see if there was something interesting and relevant so she could steal it without anyone noticing her absence.

She looked around and then stood still, she was struck by the silence that reigned in the place, and that was very strange. Something was clearly missing. Rather, someone was missing. Callum's obnoxious voice talking excessively about artifacts was missing. His lips formed a grimace without realizing it.

"This place is so different without him."

She startled to hear a voice behind her. When she turned around she saw Tina staring down the hallway. Maggie wasn't an expert at deciphering people's feelings through their eyes, but she easily saw the sadness and melancholy reflected in them, accompanied by pursed lips, clearly holding back tears.

Maggie looked at her for a few seconds before she began to feel uncomfortable.

"uh... where do I start?"

Tina shook her head and looked at her again.

"Oh right," she cleared her throat, "You need to help Sketch, Red Killer and Smokescreen sort some paperwork in the reception area, I'd assign you something else like sorting the jewelry or some artifacts, but those guys have a lot of work to do."

Magpie let out a grumble but said nothing by way of protest and headed for the reception area. It was chaos, full of papers piled up on the floor. Adrian was already reading and sorting some papers, but the other two present, Ruby and Oscar, were just flirting with each other. He grimaced. He had no idea how he was going to deal with such displays of affection during the day.

...

They had spent almost two hours among all those piles of papers organizing one by one. they were all tired and bored, but that didn't stop very interesting topics of conversation from arising among the four boys, and although at first the redhead didn't have the slightest interest in talking to them, it was inevitable for her to listen and laugh at the crazy stories Oscar had. A circle of trust was created in which even she told them some of the weirdest objects and her most risky adventures when she worked for the renegades. At this point, they were each telling the origin of their power, their faces dumbfounded as they listened to Ruby and Oscar's horrific experiences, even if hers may not have been any prettier than theirs. They had mentioned that both Sketch and Monarch were born with their powers.

"We could say that Nova was also born with one, the gift of putting others to sleep by touch" Ruby mumbled.

Magpie stared at the girl, waiting for her to continue with the explanation of how Nova managed to never sleep, but she did not. She never liked her, neither being Insomnia nor being Nightmare, she still didn't forget what happened the day Agent N was going to be released, but at that moment she aroused her curiosity and she wasn't going to stay with her.

"If he was born with the power to put people to sleep just by touching them, how did he get the power to never sleep?"

Adrian tensed, but decided to tell her.

"When Nova was 7 years old her uncle, Ace Anarchy, had her entire family killed, even her sister who was only months old. She was only saved by putting the man to sleep when he was in front of her. Ace found her and turned her into an Anarchist," he paused a little to put some papers he had just read, "Every time she tried to sleep she repeated the scene in her head, after that she could not sleep until a few months ago when she slept for 24 hours.

An uncomfortable silence reigned in the reception area. Maggie took a few moments to process it all. For a moment she felt a bit like she could relate, she too had lost her family, but she couldn't imagine how it would feel to remember everything that had happened for the rest of her life. For the first time she felt pity and empathy for the ex-villain.

"It's your turn, Urraca" said Oscar to break the silence "how you got your powers."

She grimaced as she didn't know the story for sure.

"I was too little to remember, but at the orphanage they told me that the landlord found me crying, full of blood," she took out her amulet, a bullet, from her pocket and showed it to everyone present" I had the bullet in one hand. Only the bodies of my parents were found, but there was no sign of my sister.

"Was your sister taken away?" Adrian asked, as shocked as she was to hear Nova's story.

"I don't know. For a long time I waited for my sister to come looking for me at the orphanage, but she never came. No one ever came to pick me up. I came to the conclusion that she either didn't want me or she was dead" the last thing she said in a whisper, but loud enough for those present to hear.

"What about the Renegades directory" Oscar pointed to the computer.

"I already tried, there's nothing," sighed the girl."

"Maybe there is something among all these papers of old files and cases?"

Adrian was interrupted.

"I found it!" exclaimed Ruby, who throughout Magpie's story had been sifting through the piles of papers and was now holding up a set of three sheets held together by a rusty paper clip. all she could read was "Maggie's case" and the last name was blurred, someone had splashed coffee on it.

Oscar snatched the papers from his girlfriend's hand and ran. She chased after him while feigning anger. During the two hours those two lovebirds were expressing their love through flirtatious gestures and small frolics. Maggie put up with them all the time without complaining so much, but in those moments she didn't feel like putting up with their romantic idiocies and apparently neither did Sketch, in fact he spoke first asking for a little more seriousness in the matter and for them to read the case quickly. Oscar obeyed without first letting out a "boring" along with a small cloud of smoke straight into his opponent's face.

"Let's see what it says," he began to read, "he has no birth certificate.... His name was chosen by Captain Chromium, what an honor! ... Her parents were killed in the domicile where she was found... only she survived... her sister is missing... she had a bullet in her hand..." Oscar and Ruby read without interest, but as they turned the page they wrinkled their foreheads. "Artino case"

Adrian made the same gesture with his forehead and quickly stopped to read the case. Magpie didn't understand anything but felt excitement anyway.

"Who is Artino? Is that my sister's name?"

Everhart shook his head slowly as he read over the other boy's shoulder.

"No. That's Nova's last name"

The girl sighed wearily. For a moment, the illusion returned that her sister would find her and take her with her to her new home, but it was just a stupid childish fantasy she had. Of course in those papers she would find nothing important about her life before the murder of her parents, much less anything about her missing sister.

When they finished reading, the renegades' gazes turned to her.

"Steaming saints..." Oscar was very overwhelmed. his hands went slack and he dropped the pages. Adrian picked them up with extreme gentleness.

"Margaret White Is that your real last name?"

The named woman looked at him strangely.

"I don't think so, my parents never registered me or anything like that. I was named Margaret White at the orphanage when, supposedly, they got the wrong information."

The Boy looked at her for a few moments and knelt down in front of her. she hated it when they did that. To her it was a sign that something was wrong.

"Your last name doesn't appear on these papers because they are smudged, but," he sighed, "but I believe your full name is Evelyn Artino and your sister..."

He paused for a few seconds that Maggie felt like hours. She already knew what the Renegade's next words would be, but she needed to hear it or she would think it was all just another one of her crazy fantasies.

"Your sister is Nova Artino."

She stood still and wordlessly, processing the information. She just didn't know what to do, feel or say, should she run and hug Nova or leave the place, pretend she never heard all this and believe that her sister was just a figment of her imagination?

All he could manage to do was shout a resounding "How!" at the renegade. Such an action scared him off and he backed up a few steps. Seconds later Nova and Danna arrived to see what had happened.

The girl's small eyes fixed on the shorter of the girls and she lunged at her to attack, but before she could reach out to touch her Adrian grabbed her by the waist and lifted her slightly off the ground. That brought back memories.

"How could you!" shouted Magpie trying to free herself from the Renegade's arms, but it was useless, "You abandoned me!"

Nova looked at her strangely and then at her companions. Ruby handed her the papers. She skimmed the first page, but still didn't understand.

"Look at the second page."

The red-haired girl listened and began to read. Seconds later she covered her mouth in amazement and her eyes filled with tears.

She also began to cry.

"For years I've been waiting for you to come and get me, but you never showed up" she said in a whisper, now calmer.

"But how..." she said in a choked whisper.

"She told us the origin of her powers, or at least what she knows" Adrian replied, "She was found covered in blood with a bullet in her hand, her parents were killed and her older sister disappeared. Read well, everything is very clear."

The renegade picked up the old papers and went back to reread them more patiently, perhaps looking for some word or name that contradicted her boyfriend's words. But judging by her look of disbelief and the tears that began to fall down her cheeks, there was nothing to rule out the theory.

"Why didn't I have any idea about these papers?" asked Nova with her eyes on the sheets, although it was obvious that she was addressing her partner "How come no one remembered such information?"

Adrian looked at her for a few seconds. She, still holding her head in the air, sensed that he was looking for signs of anger. And part of it showed.

"I'm not really sure, but back then they didn't trust computers, so they used paper to file all the cases" he motioned to the mountains of paper scattered around the room.

That was the last that was heard. No one knew what to do or say, and the silence was so thick and uncomfortable that it was becoming unbearable. After a few minutes Oscar decided to give them space and leave the place together with Ruby by the hand, they were also followed by Danna, who still didn't understand what was going on.

The last to leave was Adrian. He went down to Maggie -or Evelyn, she didn't even know what to call herself anymore- and gave her a squeeze on the shoulder, as if giving her strength or a signal not to run out of the building. He walked over to Nova and cupped her face to wipe away her tears. He said something she didn't hear and kissed her on the lips before leaving the room and closing the door.

It was time to talk, but apparently none of them were willing to start. At least Urraca didn't want to.

"I don't know what to say," Nova finally spoke, she had stopped crying a few moments ago, but her voice was broken, "You have no idea how happy I am knowing you're alive."

Magpie wiped her tears and snot with her sleeve.

"I asked you something earlier, why did you abandon me, did you even look for me?"

She shook her head.

"I never looked for you" said Nova, "I didn't because I thought you were dead.... That you had been murdered that night and I couldn't protect you because..." she couldn't continue speaking because a sob escaped from her throat.

Evie grew tired of pretending to be strong. She burst into a disconsolate cry and ran to hug her sister tightly. she hugged her sister back just as tightly. at that moment they couldn't talk, she knew it, the lump in her throat barely let her breathe. She had no intention of admitting it, but the warmth of an older sister along with a strange and curious sensation it brought back an old feeling she had thought she had forgotten, one she had not experienced for years. That of being safe, of having a home.

#adrian everhart #renegades #bookblr #books #nova artino #supernova #my writing #writing #magpie #novadrian #nova #evie artino #max everhart #margaret white #wattpad #excerpt from a book i'll never write #happy ending

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anonymouslyangsty · 3 years

Note

A bit old hat, I know, but imagine the rare nights Takaaki got off on the full moon in the monster au and papa wolf gets to watch over his sweet pup. Imagine when Taka was really really young and he was just a happy squirmy puppy tugging at his dad's ear and flopping all over him meanwhile Takaaki is just a tired ol' wolf who wants to just lay down for a bit.

Bold of you to assume I understand the concept of something being "old hat"

Pre scandal, Takaaki always took full moons off. First of all, it's not like he can function as an officer while he's got wolf brain. Second of all, his wife is not a werewolf, so dealing with an overly excited wolf puppy all night probably would be a bit intimidating.

And intimidating doesn't mean "oh god my son turns into a bloodthirsty dog thing", more of "help I've been playing fetch for 4 hours and I'm so tired". Little Taka is like the most needy little puppy you'll ever meet. You leave him alone for more than 5 seconds and he starts crying. He has the zoomies for seemingly the entire night. It's like a tiny, adorable nightmare.

So Takaaki always takes full moons off. And I feel like a lot of the "uncontrollable amounts of zoomies" is based more on age and personality than being something every werewolf deals with.

Plus being older probably gives Takaaki a heightened control over himself in wolf form. So full moon is less like having two wolves in the house, and more life having a very excited puppy and a wolf that is so smart that he's basically just a human with paws.

Takaaki is a miracle worker as far as his wife's concerned. Not only can he keep up with Taka, but he can actually make the pup calm down. During the full moon, he will spend like 3 hours straight chasing Taka around in the backyard (they probably had a pretty big back yard, son of Prime Minister and all that)

By the time they're done, they're both covered in dirt and Taka's FINALLY worn out. Like "falling asleep on his feet" levels of worn out. Takaaki usually has to carry him back inside.

Then all that's left is to wash a very sleepy puppy, then to wash a tired wolf who misses having hands.

And on the off chance that Takaaki's tired and doesn't want to play with Taka for several hours, there are other methods. If he just flops over Taka (carefully so he doesn't get hurt), the little puppy WILL fall asleep. It's like a breathing, warm, fuzzy weighted blanket that's like 4 times his size. How could he resist?

After the scandal though, things definitely are different. Takaaki's wife leaves (because we have enough dead moms in writing), plus people are far less kind to the Ishimarus. Not to mention that they also have to move to an apartment, so no more running in a big old backyard.

It's not easy having a young child as a single parent with a full time job even on normal days. Takaaki can't afford a babysitter and, even if he could, he wouldn't trust one given the animosity surrounding his family. Takaaki can't stand the thought of leaving his son alone with someone who hates him all day. Though, he worries that's exactly what he's doing when he drops Taka off at school.

But during a full moon? That's even worse. Taka's absolutely not old enough to just calmly sit around. He's going to destroy the apartment, biting furniture and generally making it look like a small tornado ran through. Not to mention that, if he's left alone, he WILL bark. A lot.

Takaaki's already on thin ice with his neighbors. He can't afford a noise complaint. Not to mention that he can't have Taka tearing the house apart. Takaaki only barely managed to convince his landlord that werewolves aren't in violation of the "no pets' rule. He doesn't need to cause a scene.

And even if he wanted to (which he does, desperately so), Takaaki usually can't stay with Taka during a full moon. According to his boss, it's an "abuse of sick days" and "a sign of poor work ethic" for him to take the night off. Not to mention that they honestly need all the money they can get, so even one day off can have a huge impact.

(And his boss offers to pay him extra to work on the K9 team on full moons. It's humiliating and horrible, but they seriously need the money)

Takaaki doesn't have many options. He can't stay with Taka because he has to work. He can't leave Taka alone because they'll get kicked out of their apartment. He can't leave Taka with somebody because there's nobody he can trust not to hurt his son.

So he resorts to drugging Taka on full moons.

It's terrible and he knows it. It's not healthy to suppress a transformation like that. It leaves Taka twitchy and nervous with unused energy for a week afterwards. It's stopping him from becoming familiar with his transformation, which makes it harder for him to control it. It's not fair.

But it's better than being on the streets, or risking someone hurting his son and claiming self defence.

Knowing that it's the best option doesn't mean Takaaki hates doing it any less. He’s terrified that his son will get some kind of dependency on sleeping pills. Or that he'll give the boy too light of a dose and he'll somehow manage to get out of the house. There are far too many people who'd see a dazed, confused werewolf and use it as an excuse to kill him.

What he hates most of all is that it teaches Taka to be afraid of his own transformation. It's not hard to see how anxious he gets when the full moon is near, or how he accepts his medication with the grim tone of a man walking to his death sentence. Takaaki wishes more than anything that his son could be himself without all this fear, but he just can't afford to.

What hurts him the most is that Taka seems to think of the medication as almost a punishment, a consequence for his lack of self control. But Takaaki knows that no level of determination would help Taka control his transformation at his age. It absolutely isn't Taka's fault, but convincing the boy of that is a seemingly impossible task.

And on the extremely rare days when Takaaki does take the full moon off, it's still not exactly safe to leave Taka fully sober. He's not going to be able to keep Taka quiet the whole time, and the whole "sit on him till he falls asleep" trick only worked because Taka was so young.

But still, it's an improvement. He only needs to give Taka half the dose, enough to keep him calm, but not enough to knock him out. At the very least Taka doesn't have to be alone on those nights.

#kiyotaka ishimaru #monster au #takaaki ishimaru #danganronpa #taka #an ask tag

21 notes · View notes

hookingminor · 4 years

Text

close quarters (2) - andre burakovsky

a/n: here’s part 2! hope y’all enjoy please leave me a message w your thoughts I love hearing what you guys think

word count: 2,735

one / two / three / four / five

Despite his sudden aloofness that past few days, Andre knocked on your door the following Thursday.

“Hi, Andre, did you need something?” You asked curiously. He never bothered you in your room.

“Actually, I had something for you. I know you’re still looking for a place, so I talked to some people and got you a showing for tomorrow at five,” he replied.

“You didn’t have to do that,” you thanked him, “Really, I can find my own place.” Though, you weren’t really sure if that last part was true. It had been a couple weeks, and you were still at a loss.

“It’s no problem,” he said with a blush, “I can send you the address and phone number of the agent later today.”

“Wait, you’re not coming with me? You have to come with me, Andre. I can’t just show up somewhere for an appointment I didn’t make,” you said hurriedly before he left.

“I don’t think—,” he began to say, but you cut him off before he got any further.

“You sent me your schedule, I know you don’t have anything going on,” you said with an accusatory finger to emphasize your point, “You have to come with me.”

Andre opened his mouth to reply, but no sound came out. He knew he’d been caught, and you weren’t taking no for an answer. You raised your eyebrows, putting on a hopeful face as your lips slowly quirked into a smile.

“Great!” You said cheerfully when you knew he wasn’t going to argue, “I’ll be ready to leave at three!”

When you closed the door in front of him, a victorious smile on your face, Andre threw his head back to gaze at the ceiling, cursing himself for not being able to tell you no.

You and Andre walked to your showing the next day as it was only fifteen minutes away and the parking in Denver was hell. When you arrived at the opulent building, you stopped in your tracks to berate Andre.

“Who the hell did you call? I can’t afford a place like this,” you said in awe, mouth agape as you stared up at the high rise.

“I may or may not have promised the landlord two years worth of season tickets in exchange for a favor,” he said, chuckling at your stunned expression.

“You really should not have done that,” you said, though the bite in your voice wasn’t as harsh as you intended it to be.

“It’s not a problem. I don’t have any family near me anyway, and I have the tickets to give away,” he said with a shrug.

Andre ushered you through the lobby and up to the seventh floor, apparently he’d been given the entrance code already. You didn’t say anything the entire way, too taken aback by the cleanliness and luxury of the building. You read the signs in the elevator that indicated the floors of a few amenities, pausing when you came across the information for a pool. This had to be way over your budget even with Andre pulling a few strings.

A middle-aged woman greeted you when you stepped out the elevator, tapping away on her phone as she stood outside the door you presumed was the apartment.

“Hi, you must be Andre. I’m Ellen, I’ll be showing you around today,” the woman said, using a key to unlock the door.

You followed her into the entryway, your eyes immediately noting the open concept and large kitchen. Granite covered the countertops, a perfect contrast against the white cabinets.

“As you can see, there’s a lot of natural light that comes from the large windows and balcony, high ceilings in all the rooms, new appliances in the kitchen, bathrooms were redone a year ago,” she listed on, but you were already sold the minute you entered.

“There is a gym on the first floor, each unit comes with its own washer and dryer, pool is on the roof, though it’s only open during the summer,” she continued as you wandered through the living room.

It was much bigger than what you needed but beautiful, nonetheless. Ellen led you to the hallway along with the attached bedrooms.

“This is the master bedroom, ample space for a king-sized bed and plenty of room for clothes and shoes in the walk-in closet,” she described with a chuckle.

“Oh, we’re no—” you started to say, shaking your head at the insinuation of you and Andre being a couple.

“We love it, thank you,” Andre said loudly, drowning out your voice, “Would you mind giving us a few minutes alone?”

“Of course, I’ll be out in the kitchen if you need me,” Ellen said with her best saleswoman smile. She left the two of you in the room, and you gave Andre a funny look.

“It’s easier if they just assume we’re a couple. Less awkward,” he explained, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck. You gave him a smirk that said “sure, I totally believe you” as you allowed yourself to pace across the bedroom.

“So, what do you think?” He asked after a moment, slipping his hands into his pockets.

“It’s perfect. Way out of my price range but perfect,” you replied.

“Don’t worry about that, it’s all handled. I promise it’s within your budget now,” he said.

You stood at the window, overlooking the city and taking in the view. It was the perfect location: only a few blocks away from your new job but still close to the interstate if you needed to go somewhere. There was a grocery store on the corner across the street, and you could see three coffee shops just from your view from the window.

“I don’t know how to thank you for this,” you said sheepishly. You hated owing people, and this felt like one huge favor no matter what Andre said.

“Think of it as a welcome to Denver present,” he said, “So should we go sign the papers now?”

As much as you wanted to say no, to tell him this was too much, the offer was too good to pass up. You weren’t going to find another place like this that you could afford, and Andre had already promised the landlord tickets. It would just be rude to refuse now. At least that’s what you told yourself when Andre led you back out to the kitchen.

“We’ll take it,” Andre announced when you’d joined Ellen back in the kitchen. She set her phone down on the counter when she heard his voice.

“Perfect!” She said joyfully, removing a packet of papers from her purse and setting them on the table, “I have to make a quick call, but let me know if you have any questions.” She pulled out a pen from her purse, handing it to Andre before moving to a different room.

Andre gave the pen to you as you began rifling through the lease. You scanned the apartment rules and contract appendices, noticing the way the monthly rent had been blacked out and replaced with a new price.

“I don’t even want to know what the real rent is,” you chuckled lowly, signing where it indicated.

“I wasn’t going to tell you anyway,” he replied, leaning his elbows on the counter as he watched you read.

You flipped through the rest of the pages, most of the words were a formality and discussed liabilities, not that you intended to break anything. When you had finished filling out the last signature, Ellen appeared back in the kitchen, the same bright smile on her face.

“All finished?” She asked, putting her phone back into her purse. You nodded your head, handing the stack back which she tucked away with her phone.

“You’re going to love this place. It’s very popular with young couples starting out on their own, so you’ll have a lot of neighbors like you,” she said as she escorted you back out of the apartment.

“The least starts on the first, and there is a service elevator just out back that you will be given a key to,” she added finally, locking the door behind you, “If you have any more questions, you can call me any time, or I’m sure you have the landlord’s number.”

It was clear Ellen had another appointment to get to, so you said your goodbyes quickly and left the same way you came.

When the elevator doors shut, Andre turned to give you a big smile.

“Don’t look so smug,” you said with an eye roll, “I’m going to be surrounded by young couples all the time now.”

“Well, you can always just invite me over if you need a fake boyfriend to show off,” he said without hesitation. You widen your eyes in surprise at his proposition, and Andre is quick to backtrack

“I didn’t mean like— I just meant that… If you ever need company…” he stuttered, cheeks heating furiously. You laughed at his uncomfortable shuffling.

“It’s okay, Andre, I know what you meant. And you’re always welcome here, you’re kind of my only friend in Denver anyway,” you chuckled playfully, trying to ease the tension.

The elevator hit the ground floor, and you exited, eager to leave that awkward conversation behind you.

“Back to the apartment, then?” You asked to change the subject as you both stepped out of the building onto the sidewalk.

Andre glanced down to look at you, entranced by the way your eyes glittered in the sunlight. So, he decided to take a risk.

“Actually, do you want to get dinner? I know a good sushi place,” he asked in a hopeful tone, “You know, to celebrate the new apartment and all?”

You didn’t think your mood could've gotten any better, and Andre didn’t think your smile could get any wider, but both of those things happened when he asked you out for dinner.

“I’d love to,” you replied.

Andre walked you throughout downtown Denver to a fancy sushi restaurant that sat on the corner of the street. Despite not making any reservations, you were lucky to see it wasn’t that busy and you were able to easily get a table for two.

He ordered a bottle of wine for the table when the waiter stopped by as you read over the menu.

“Do you want to get some sample platters and just share? That’s what I usually do when I’m with the guys. It’s also the best way to try everything,” Andre asked, pouring out two glasses of wine. You agreed at his suggestion, placing the order when the waiter came back.

“So,” Andre started, bringing the wine glass to his lips to take a sip, “How do you know Taylor and Tom? In all my years in D.C., they never mentioned you.”

“Taylor and I actually met in college, she was the senior assigned to mentor me freshman year. So, we spent a lot of time together. I moved to D.C. after graduation, and she was currently there with Tom so I reconnected with her and that’s how I know them,” you explained, taking your own sip of wine.

Andre nodded his head along with your story, and then he launched into the story about how he met Tom. You knew it was because of hockey, obviously, but he went into more details about their friendship and living situation with Latta.

“I always wondered why you had three ketchup bottles in your fridge,” you chuckled along with his story. You’d only been to Tom’s apartment a handful of times and it was usually because Taylor had to swing by and pick something up but you always found it odd why one household had three bottles of ketchup and absolutely no other food. You just assumed guys were weird and didn’t know any basic cooking skills; it turned out you were not all that wrong.

“Yeah, the domestic skills of the apartment were not very high,” Andre laughed with you.

He asked about your jobs after school and why you moved to Denver, and you asked about his home back in Sweden. Questions turned into recalling childhood memories and other hobbies and interests you had outside of your careers. The sushi came halfway through an anecdote of how Tom broke a hotel TV in Calgary because he was trying to kill a spider.

You continued into a story of how your sister tricked you into walking on a bee’s nest, which resulted in ten different stings and a trip to the hospital. An hour passed and the sushi between you slowly disappeared as you took turns telling stories and taking bites. Soon, the plates were empty, the bottle of wine was finished, and you could feel the waiter hovering near the wall waiting for your signal to deliver the check.

Exiting the restaurant, you stumbled out on the small ledge that dropped down to the sidewalk, your arm instinctively reaching out to grab Andre’s arm for stability. You chuckled when you made contact, clearly a little more tipsy than you originally thought. His hand slid down to your waist, holding tightly until he felt you were steady enough without the support. And even though he removed his arm from your hip, you kept your arms snaked around his as you began walking. Andre didn’t retract his arm or look uncomfortable with your proximity, so you kept it there.

He steered your bodies towards the direction of his apartment, and you knew you were probably a good thirty minutes away. The bubbly atmosphere from the restaurant followed you the entire way back to the apartment, both of you continuing the banter from earlier. It seemed as if the wall that was between you, the one that had you dancing around each other because of the unusual living situation, had been broken down and you were finally past the stage of awkward acquaintances and into the stage of friendship.

Well, you hoped it was at least at the stage of friendship, though you were silently hoping it had progressed past that. You would’ve been blind to have not found Andre attractive, but with his schedule and odd behavior and the fact that you lived together, you decided not to act on it.

But tonight you were feeling like pushing the envelope a little bit further.

The two of you entered the front door of the apartment, and for the first time in nearly two hours, a silence fell between you. It wasn’t uncomfortable by any means, but it was clear that your night out was over and the bubble that surrounded your date had popped. Now, you were back into the temporary roommate bubble.

Your hand finally released its grip on his arm when you both reached the kitchen counter. Andre stood between you and the marble countertop, his eyes still twinkling as he gazed into your eyes.

“I had a great time today,” you blushed, “Thank you for dinner… and the apartment.”

Still in a blissed out haze from the date, Andre didn’t think twice about lifting his hand to brush aside a strand of your hair. You leaned slightly into his body as his hand paused to rest behind your ear for a second.

Taking a deep breath, you tilted your head up a couple more inches, hopefully communicating that you wanted him to kiss you.

It was this action that seemed to snap Andre out of his stupor because one second he was moving his finger to lift your chin, and the next second he was dropping his hand and stepping away. He blinked away the lustful mist that clouded his eyes before coughing awkwardly.

“Uh, I have to get to bed,” he said, taking a few more steps out of your reach, “Practice in the morning.”

“Oh, okay,” you said dejectedly, your lips turning into a frown. Were you reading the situation wrong? You could’ve sworn he was feeling the same way you were.

“Yeah, uh, goodnight,” Andre mumbled, turning on his heels before speed walking to his room.

The air around you felt awkward for the first time that entire night. You were bouncing off each other the entire night, why was he closing himself off now? Your brows furrowed in confusion as you took a few seconds to process Andre’s suddenly bizarre behavior.

What the hell just happened?

#andre burakovsky #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #nhl fic #my writing #avs95

269 notes · View notes

notespeed · 3 years

Video

youtube

Mortgage Note Case Study With Eddie Speed - Real Estate Investing

PROPERTY overview: - Class D- property that was neglected and very distressed - termites, bad roof, no heat or AC, bad wiring and plumbing

- Original plan was to remodel for a rental (would have lowered the rehab costs by perhaps $5k) but a visit in Jan '19 changed our plans

- Upon joining NoteSchool in Jan '20 we flipped to selling this house and holding the note

- We did the demo and gutted it and used our contractors to add a new roof, added HVAC, repair termite damage, new electrical, new plumbing) and remodeled the entire interior

- Highly stable workforce neighborhood with long term home ownership and few rentals

- Low crime, excellent elementary and middle school within the community

- Purchased the property in 2017 using money out of pocket and a small 2 year note and which we paid off prior to closing

- At the time of sale (July '20) we were at $88,770 (in the property) = $58,250 (purchase) + $30,500 (rehab)

NOTE TERMS overview:

- Sales price of $145,000

- PBB Buyer, D-F Qualified, $4000 down, escrowed T&I

- Note Price $141,000 which we papered using a Title company as $98,750 (sales price to lower tax basis) + $46,250 (repair cost) @ 6.5% for 360 months

- PI of $891.22 - Secured a PLEDGE at the time of closing for $40,000 for 4 years at 6% to recoup the rehab costs and 10k above that

- We plan to secure additional Pledges when this one expires as well as consider Partials

FINANCING overview:

-$88770

- funds in the house+$4000

- down payment+$40000

- Pledge+$141,000

- 30 year Principal over time+$179,838

- 30 year Interest over time-$45091

- Pledge payments over time

========================

+$226,977 Profit

Uncover Why Savvy Investors Use Proven Mortgage Note Strategies for Massive Monthly Profits In Today’s Ever-Changing Market… Risk-Free!

Discover more about Note School and profiting without Tenants, Toilets and by taking our FREE one day class:

https://new.noteschool.com/TV/

Latest Class Information:

https://noteschool.com/3-day-classes/pop/

Download a Brand-New eBook by Eddie Speed It’s A Whole New Ball Game With Creative Financing

https://lp.noteschooltraining.com/moneyball-getstarted

https://youtube.com/c/noteschool

https://noteschool.com/

https://www.facebook.com/thenoteschool

https://www.linkedin.com/company/noteschool/

https://www.linkedin.com/company/colonial-funding-group-llc/

https://twitter.com/thenoteschool

https://www.instagram.com/thenoteauthority/

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

Brian Lauchner (00:01):

Can you really be the bank versus being the landlord stay tuned.

Brian Lauchner (00:16):

That is the question, ever noticed that banks happen to own the tallest buildings in the cities? And sometimes being a landlord can come with some unique challenges I would say. And so we're going to talk about what that looks like to maybe make a shift from being a landlord over to being the bank and taking advantage of some of those things. Welcome to NoteSchoolTV. My name is Brian Lauchner I'm on the teaching team here. We're going to be here every single Wednesday. And if you're brand new to NoteSchoolTV, we are here Wednesdays at 11:00 AM, central time, every single Wednesday live where you can engage with us as we kind of dive into some of these topics and kind of go after some of the questions that I think a lot of people have in their heads, there's trying to figure out what those answers are.

Brian Lauchner (01:01):

If you're wanting to learn a little bit more about NoteSchool or NoteSchoolTV, even you can go to www.NoteSchool.com/TV, to learn a little bit more about what we do, what we're about, and even how you can get engaged moving forward from here. We would really love for you. If this video is of value to you, please like the video, subscribe to the channel. And probably most importantly for this show specifically, if you are someone who is wanting to get engaged and ask some questions, make sure you are clicking that notification bell. Down next to the subscribe button, that's going to alert you when we go live so that you can jump on with us, listen to what we're talking about, texting your questions, typing your questions there. And we're going to try and do our best to get those answers. We are actually going to have an after party at the end of NoteSchoolTV each week, where we take a look at all the things that have been posted on all the social channels and try to answer these, these questions almost like a Q and A but we're going to call it an after party because let's be honest, that's way more fun. And so we're going to get into the meat of today. It's going to be fun, and we're going to start by jumping straight into the news

Brian Lauchner (02:20):

And I am joined here by Mr. Joe Varnadore. And as he gets un-muted here, we will get him going. And how are you, Joe?

Joe Varnadore (02:29):

You know what? I am great, Brian, how are you?

Brian Lauchner (02:32):

Doing great, my man, what's going on in the market, man, fill us in. What's going on in the news?

Joe Varnadore (02:37):

Well, hot off of the wire service man. So we talked last week about Fannie, Freddie, Genie. They extended the moratorium on foreclosures from the end of December from the 31st of December out to January 31st, well hot off the presses here, FHA, HUD and the federal housing finance agency has just granted another extension. And they're extending that out to February 28th. So now we've gone from December 31st to January 31st, and now we're out at the end of February. So that is.

Brian Lauchner (03:20):

What does it mean? What does that mean for the average landlord? Well, for the average homeowner, what that means is the foreclosures cannot be started, right? If it is a loan that is insured or guaranteed by one of the GSE's, the government sponsored enterprises. And it, if it is a loan on a rental property, that is not that is in that there's a loan from one of those agencies that, that extends that moratorium as far as being able to evict as well. Right? So it literally is more pressure on the landlords out there.

Brian Lauchner (03:58):

Uh-huh.

Joe Varnadore (03:58):

So you also know that the big stimulus package is kind of popped out and there's some things going on with that. But the CDC, the center for disease control has also extended their moratorium out on evictions. And that's just basically CDC did that because of the, you know, the COVID thing. And so, and in that package, there is another $25 billion to help those folks there. And then the big news as well is that Zillow is predicting Brian a 21.9% annual growth in housing in 2021, which is the biggest since 1983.

Brian Lauchner (04:48):

Man.

Joe Varnadore (04:48):

Now that's just a prediction by Zillow in the National Association of Realtors is kind of jumping on board that as well, but that is the news for this week.

Brian Lauchner (05:02):

I love it. I love it. So tell us, what are we going to be talking about today? I already kind of gave a little bit of a teaser here, jumping straight into it. What do you got for us today, Joe?

Joe Varnadore (05:11):

Well, I'll tell you what, we have two very special guests today. They are from Houston, Texas, Lois Meyer and Cynthia Sterling. They are two of our rockstar NoteSchool members, and they well, Brian, they were very big on the landlording thing, right.

Brian Lauchner (05:31):

Okay.

Joe Varnadore (05:31):

And you know, your teaser was can you really be the Bay versus being, you know, versus being a landlord. And so Cynthia and Lois, Cindy and Lois joined us joined NoteSchool back in January of this year before the lockdown. Right. And so we've got a great case study, where they do what we've been teaching them, right? They were landlords, they were interested real passive income. So they had bought a property that was pretty trashed out that they were going to use fix it and use it as a rental. But after, and that was the last fall. But after joining NoteSchool in January of this year, they decided we really would start like to being the bank. Right. So we're going to talk about that as we, as we move forward, let's bring Cynthia and Lois on and maybe we'll bring on Mr. Eddie as well. Well, good morning, Cynthia and Lois. Thanks for being here.

Cynthia (06:35):

Hi.

Joe Varnadore (06:35):

Good morning, Eddie, How are you?

Eddie Speed (06:37):

I'm great. How are you ladies? By the way. Welcome.

Lois (06:41):

Excellent.

Joe Varnadore (06:42):

So you guys, you know, we love you. We love what you've done. We love the spirit, everything that you guys bring to NoteSchool, Lois, you're a retired recruiter for a big national company. I think you retired last year, right?

Lois (06:56):

Yes. About that. Uh-huh.

Joe Varnadore (06:57):

And you're trying to get Ms.Cindy here to retire as well. Right?

Lois (07:04):

That is our plan for sure.

Cynthia (07:08):

The last couple of weeks.

Joe Varnadore (07:08):

Good job with the company called Solar Winds as well.

Cynthia (07:16):

Yeah.

Joe Varnadore (07:16):

So very good. So let's talk a minute about the, you know, you guys, what you were doing prior to NoteSchool and learning how to be the bank, so tell us about yourselves.

Cynthia (07:30):

Oh, we started in rentals and land ownership about five to eight years ago. I don't remember the exact timeframe. And we had collected about what 12 rental properties and about five or six land properties. And we were pretty well going down that path when we were introduced to notes and NoteSchool about two and a half years ago, we bought our first note just to try it out and see how it works.

Cynthia (07:58):

And then when we'd set off on a course of a lot of due diligence to make sure that everything was a good investment for us to kind of switch our plans. And we sort of made a decision to do that last fall. And especially with this one property, we thought we'd try one property off. And we started going down that path instead of remodeling it for rental were remodeling it for resale, but we wanted to be the bank. So in January of this year, we joined NoteSchool with a commitment that that was how we were redirecting all of our real estate investments.

Lois (08:35):

And our retirement plans.

Cynthia (08:37):

Yes.

Joe Varnadore (08:37):

Yeah. That's very important today. Is it not?

Lois (08:41):

Yes.

Joe Varnadore (08:44):

So you did your due diligence on notes, right? I heard you say that you did your due diligence on NoteSchool and you found out we were good. Right. So.

Lois (08:51):

Yes, we were very impressed.

Cynthia (08:53):

Yes. We had some access to some of your titanium members, so that helped a lot too, but we wanted to do our own due diligence, not on buying a specific note, but on the process, the, just how would it work? Long-Term, so not a short term gain, but something long-term for us.

Joe Varnadore (09:13):

Right.

Cynthia (09:15):

We have found out that you a pretty trustworthy guy.

Eddie Speed (09:16):

Look at that face. How could you not say that? Right.

Lois (09:21):

That was our first thought.

Joe Varnadore (09:21):

I don't have a comment here.

Eddie Speed (09:27):

It's funny. They do do a great job. You know, we get to spend time with them because they come on these labs with us on a regular basis. And great bring great questions. And the particular case study they did today. I really appreciate it because you know, a lot of people look at seller financing and it's like, I'm going to take a house that is sort of in a substandard condition and I'm going to sell it to some buyer and I'm going to cross my fingers. They're going to go fix it up. And you wake up and realize that you really can't attract the right, the buyer you're looking for, or you can't attract you don't really own a bank. You own like more of a pawn shop when you're doing that. Is that a fair statement? And so I really appreciate the fact that you ladies really listened to us and listened to the direction. So I'm interested in kind of like how you went through that process and what you needed to do to fix the house up and what that sell that property with seller financing look like?

Lois (10:32):

We purchased the house for a 58,250.

Joe Varnadore (10:35):

Let's do this. And let's I'm gonna have let's, I've got a PowerPoint here, so let's go.

Lois (10:42):

Alright, sure.

Joe Varnadore (10:42):

Real quick. And so the first shot here really is you guys bought bluntly when you sold it and closed it to your penalty box buyer. Right. We'll talk a little more about that in just a second. That's your penalty box buyer, right. And she had had an a crazy you know, worked for the United States postal service. And she just had, she had some bad, bad medical issues, didn't she guys?

Lois (11:11):

Very much so. And it really put her in a position where she felt she would never be able to own a house on her own.

Cynthia (11:19):

And it was a, it was a goal she'd had for all of her life. And I she's in her fifties, but couldn't, isn't bankable. Wasn't at all. And yet she after all the medical issues and three years of not working and all of that, she was able to get us feedback underneath her. But by that time, the damage is done.

Joe Varnadore (11:39):

Right.

Cynthia (11:40):

Credit score. And we were able to help her achieve her dream and have us begin to achieve ours, quite frankly.

Lois (11:50):

Sure.

Joe Varnadore (11:50):

You know what I like to say, ladies, that you know, we can kind of help folks achieve the dream of home ownership, one person at a time, right.

Lois (12:00):

Exactly.

Joe Varnadore (12:00):

As we move forward. And just for our viewers out there this lady was, you know, she was just, she was unbankable, right? Because of a situation, it wasn't that she had, you know, bad credit or ugly credit or Eddie was saying we're selling an ugly house. And that kind of thing, as a matter of fact, this house has a current market value of $150,000. Right?

Lois (12:23):

Now It does. Yes.

Joe Varnadore (12:28):

Earlier, you said, well, you know, it was pretty nasty, so, let's talk just a little bit about this, right. As we kind of go through it. So you're the kind of the deal points, right? You guys tell us a little bit about that you had purchased this house and you were just going to rehab and fix it. And then that was kind of last fall, wasn't it?

Cynthia (12:47):

Yeah, it was last fall and we started to work on it and it's like, I mean, Eddie can tell more horror stories than we have, but every house we've ever bought in neighborhoods that are what we call working class neighborhoods, right? So they're more of the blue collar working class people, one to two, home, one to two jobs per, per adult living in the household. So these are, these are hardworking people, but their houses are not always in the best of neighborhoods. But one of the things we've always tried to do is take a house in a neighborhood like that and make it the best house in the neighborhood, and then get people into those homes. And this is historically one of the of the most, it's the highest voting percentage neighborhood in the state of Texas. Oh my gosh. And you've tried to find a house for sale or for lease in this neighborhood is difficult at best. And so when we found this opportunity, we jumped on it, but the house had been in some disrepair because of the age of welders. So.

Joe Varnadore (13:57):

So you found it, you totally gutted it. And again, you're going to rehab and flip it. So you purchased it for 58,250, and I think you use your own funds for that.

Lois (14:09):

Uh huh.

Joe Varnadore (14:09):

And then you rehab the property. And again, you had some funds and I think these were some funds that were in retirement account or something like that.

Cynthia (14:19):

No, not really. They were just funds that we had set aside actually to buy another property. And we just pulled them back from that to go into this property.

Joe Varnadore (14:27):

Got it. So you get it rehabbed and you would look like the picture before, right. So total out of pocket, you guys had in this was 88,750.

Lois (14:36):

Correct.

Joe Varnadore (14:39):

So once you did that and I, you know, when we were talking yesterday, you were saying that you guys had actually started advertising for a penalty box buyer prior to actually finishing the house, right?

Lois (14:57):

Yes.

Cynthia (14:58):

We had a couple of people that had already approached us initially about, did we have any rental rentals?

Lois (15:07):

Rentals right.

Cynthia (15:07):

And we just flat out said to them, have you ever thought about owning? And because the cost of a monthly lease versus an owning the house, there's not that much difference. And we've had several people go, well, I can't qualify to buy a house. And we said, well, put that aside for a moment. If you did qualify, would you be interested? Right. And they said, yes. And we pursued them. And this particular buyer went through all of the process, which we'll probably talk about, but we put them through a Dodd-Frank process because we wanted to make sure that they in fact were legitimate people to own the home.

Joe Varnadore (15:49):

So just for everybody that's out there. So you advertise this and you actually had people as you were redoing it or contacting you from the neighborhood as it was a real desirable working class neighborhood.

Lois (15:59):

Right.

Joe Varnadore (16:01):

You found the right buyer, and then one of the things you said there, I want to make sure everybody understands is you made sure that the borrower on this lady that was buying it you had her qualified under the safe act, which is Safe Act compliant, right. Safe Act compliant by using a vendor that checked her out and made sure that, you know, she could afford, she had the ability to repay on this.Right?

Cynthia (16:28):

Absolutely.

Lois (16:29):

And that came from, from NoteSchool and Eddie talking about, you know, you have to qualify them. And so we used a vendor from NoteSchool CTU and then they did the whole processing for us. And then we closed through a title company and we explained to her at the very beginning, you know, this, the everything was going to be done legally. And you know, cause she'd never bought a house before. And so every one thing was going to be done according to law and regulations so that she didn't have to worry that she was being taken advantage of either, which I think is important. And I think that's something we don't talk about is they need to know that this is legitimate as well as we need to know that they're the right people.

Joe Varnadore (17:15):

Right. Well, you know, it's like Eddie Speed says, right. He says, Joe you know, the loan that you don't make is not the one that'll keep you up at night. Make sure that everybody's good. Right?

Lois (17:27):

Yes. Right.

Joe Varnadore (17:27):

So you sold it. So you had, you guys had 88,750 and you were good with that, guys. You could have borrowed the money from you know, a private lender, but you guys were good. You had some money that you wanted to deploy, so you were good with that. So your buyer had a small down payment, but that was okay. Right. That was okay with you guys. That was your decision.

Cynthia (17:52):

We are, we feel confident that we could have gone and gotten a more traditional penalty box buyer that we could have asked for a higher down payment and all of that. But we there's a, there's an element of not only this being a financially solid thing for us, but we also wanted to do a community and, and a best work. We're blessed enough to be in the jobs and the careers that we've had. And if we can help people one house at a time, you know, we have this thing about having, helping one house on wall street on one block, in one neighborhood at a time, then we're good with probably not making as much as maybe somebody else might be making, but we're also, it's a business and we absolutely want to run our business smart, but we also want to feel good about what we do.

Joe Varnadore (18:46):

Well. and just for our viewers out there, typically when we're selling to a penalty box buyer, we're going to get somewhere between 10 and 20% down. That will show that, you know, over the last several months, the average penalty, the average buyer has a 750 plus credit score. Plus has, have been putting at least 19% down on their on the price here. So let's talk about this. So 145, $4,000 down. So you get seller financing of the 141.

Lois (19:17):

Uh huh.

Cynthia (19:17):

Uh huh.

Joe Varnadore (19:17):

At six and a half percent, which is a very good rate for this penalty box buyer, which made the payment $891 a month for principal interest. Now you did, she is escrowing the taxes.

Lois (19:32):

Absolutely.

Cynthia (19:32):

That's kind of our requirement we have for our properties, even the notes we're buying. And it's probably because we're fairly new. I mean, we're literally only coming up on our one year membership, but in the 20 plus notes that we own, that's the criteria that we kind of put in place.

Joe Varnadore (19:53):

So you guys have bought 20 notes this year.

Cynthia (19:55):

yeah a little, 20, 21, something like that, we could have.

Lois (19:59):

Right. Since May

Cynthia (19:59):

Since May, this year actually.

Joe Varnadore (20:02):

Because you said, I'm going to join in January, but we can't do anything until May. So.

Lois (20:07):

Correct.

Joe Varnadore (20:10):

Seven months. Very interesting.

Cynthia (20:11):

Yeah. Uh huh.

Eddie Speed (20:14):

Yeah. Well, one point I wanted to make is, you basically in your business called an Audible. I mean, you know that we say that you can get 10 to 20% down on a consistent basis.

Lois (20:24):

Uh huh.

Eddie Speed (20:24):

But the story of the customer and the stability of the customer said, I, as a business owner and the bank.

Lois (20:34):

Uh huh.

Eddie Speed (20:34):

I can call an audible, say, I'll take less than that down. And by the way, her payment, including taxes and insurance is less than a rent payment or it's is as equal to.

Lois (20:48):

Yes. Uh huh.

Eddie Speed (20:48):

It"s a win-win deal. You got 88,000 in this deal.

Lois (20:51):

Yep.

Eddie Speed (20:51):

You got 4,000 cash. And, now all of a sudden, here's the difference. If you would have owned a rental property, would you really be netting 900 bucks a month?

Lois (21:03):

No.

Eddie Speed (21:08):

Oh, So this makes more money than a rental?

Cynthia (21:12):

Quite a bit.

Eddie Speed (21:17):

Okay. Now.

Lois (21:17):

We're believers Eddie, No worries.

Cynthia (21:19):

We've been converted.

Joe Varnadore (21:25):

Hallelujah. So this is what the note looks like. You've got a payment track of 360. So let's talk about, let's tally up some of the money. Eddie. I've been talking a lot here. Why don't you talk about this a little bit.

Eddie Speed (21:38):

Well, I mean, the thing that we like about the first year, you make $14,000. Now you can take that off your cost basis of 88 right? Now you're in the low seventies, right? below 75,000. And then for 75,000 our investment, you have an in thing that throws off true income, not income minus expenses, but real income.

Lois (22:04):

Yes.

Eddie Speed (22:04):

Growing off of cash flow of 10,000, almost $700 a month. A year.

Lois (22:13):

Yeah.

Eddie Speed (22:15):

Probably economics says seven years, you get your money back in for the next, you know, 23 years after that is profit.

Lois (22:21):

Yep.

Eddie Speed (22:21):

Now, that's kind of pile boy economics, but it's pretty good economics.

Lois (22:27):

It is. And we can put pledges against it and everything. So I mean.

Cynthia (22:31):

Partials, we can do whatever we want. And that really works well for us given, building this retirement plan and what we need, because right now I'm still working. So that still works well. But in that, after that seven years, that's when we're really wanting these notes to kick in for us.

Eddie Speed (22:52):

So let me clarify what they're saying, because that's really important. Like you're like, you're looking at your current deal, but you're also strategizing about what could be done. What they're saying is they have a good first mortgage on a good piece of property and a good payer. They could take that note and just go borrow money against it. Just like you'd borrow money rent. I was thinking about your money against note. They said they can pledge the note, right? Teach this strategy a lot and how to do it. The other thing is they could just go sell a stream of payments so they could sell not the whole note, but they could sell a stream of payments. And what that would allow them to do is to recapitalize. So you heard them say something, a lot of you caught and they're like, Oh my God, these ladies have bought 20 over 20 notes this year already. And you're like, how do they do that? Because they understand when they run out of capital, whatever is, and have strategies that they can go recapitalize other private investors, money to go to go recapitalize the notes that they have. So they have more money to spend. And now they're walking themselves up the ladder. And that's what I love.

Lois (24:00):

Uh huh.

Joe Varnadore (24:02):

That's where you build your bank. Right guys?

Lois (24:03):

Absolutely.

Cynthia (24:03):

Absolutely we love it.

Joe Varnadore (24:08):

We call that a NoteSchool, Eddie, coined that the Capital Recoupment Plan, let's do some quick math. And then I'm going to jump off the PowerPoint here. So you guys had 88,750 out, right? You received a $4,000 down payment, yearly income over the period of the loan, you know, for a long time is 320,760. So literally your total profit on this over time is 232 and a half thousand dollars basically.

Lois (24:37):

Uh huh.

Eddie Speed (24:39):

Yeah. That's well, you know what I like to say at that don't light your fire, your wood's wet. Right?

Joe Varnadore (24:48):

Alright, Scott, pull that down and let's, I'll go back on screen here.

Eddie Speed (24:52):

Listen, you ladies that I want to compliment you are you, for Joe and I and Brian who are on the training team and working at training people here's, there's, you're smart. You brought some real estate experience to it, and you applied that real estate experience that let you get going with your note strategy.

Lois (25:18):

Uh huh.

Eddie Speed (25:18):

But the most important thing that you did is you took action. You put massive action. And we talk, and you know, we talk about this a lot. Like we can be so smart, we can almost talk ourselves out of a deal. Right. We can just analyze it to death and you ladies are good. You're smart ladies. You you're really good at analyzing, but you have a good balance. And you've been highly coachable for us because you've not just done it, but you've taken action. And I salute you for that, really.

Lois (25:51):

Thank you.

Cynthia (25:53):

We should rightfully salute you. I think that's you have to take the credit for some, a lot of this is because we just to remind you of what we said was we bought our first note two and a half years. We studied you and note school, and that's correct for two years. And, but once we made the commitment, because we had done that due diligence up front, we were all in, but that comes to you. I mean, you're, we didn't just invest in any notes. We had invested in NoteSchool and NotesDirect.

Eddie Speed (26:22):

Yes. Well, thank you for doing that. And I think you probably would tell people you could have pulled the trigger a lot quicker.

Cynthia (26:29):

We could. Yeah. I don't mean to discourage. We could have done it faster. It just happened to be where our careers were.

Lois (26:36):

Yeah. Our lives were far too stacked for that, but because we wanted to be able to concentrate on it and do it right. And so we told you when we joined that May was our time.

Cynthia (26:46):

Retirement.

Eddie Speed (26:46):

I completely remember that conversation.

Lois (26:51):

And I know that you say sometimes, well, you know, people tell me, Oh, I'm going to join and I'm going to do all of this. And you know, some of them do some of them don't. And so I thought, yeah, he doesn't really know what we're going to do.

Joe Varnadore (27:07):

22 notes in. We think you're doing okay.

Eddie Speed (27:13):

Let's just say the coach is happy.

Cynthia (27:15):

Good, cause we did our job too.

Lois (27:18):

Yes.The players are happy.

Joe Varnadore (27:23):

Stick around with us guys.

Lois (27:24):

We will.

Joe Varnadore (27:24):

Cause we're going to have a little after party here,

Joe Varnadore (27:26):

After this thing.

Lois (27:28):

Okay.

Joe Varnadore (27:28):

So guys Brian, why don't you jump on and let's talk about Feeding Frenzy Friday.

Brian Lauchner (27:38):

I like it.Thank you so much, ladies. Yeah, I think this is this is a great time transition. One of the cool things is that I think everybody needs to know is NoteSchoolTV is sponsored by NotesDirect and Feeding Frenzy Friday.

Brian Lauchner (28:02):

So each week we put together a little video kind of breaking down a note from NotesDirect on Feeding Frenzy Friday, you can go to NoteSchool YouTube channel. There's a playlist called Feeding Frenzy Friday. And if you're wanting to just learn more of the details and really learn how to master notes, that's a great place to get started. Just last week, we broke down a Michigan home that has a season note since 2002, the person has been living there for 18 years. What do you think the chances are? They're going to keep paying if they've been there for 18 years, right? It had a $19,000 balance with a loan value under 60%. So with a double digit interest rates. So just really, really great stuff. And we got to talk about the ins and out and the pros and the cons of these notes to again, to help equip you better, to learn how to buy something from notes direct and get a note in your portfolio.

Brian Lauchner (28:52):

As always, we're going to be here on Wednesdays live at 11:00 AM central time, so that we can dive into some of this content and get you more value for your business in this you know, in these market conditions make sure you are liking these videos, subscribe to the channel. And again, like I said, at the beginning, click that notification bell, because what that does is that alert you, that Hey, we're live. And that allows you then to jump on and putting your questions and things like that and engage with us. Cause we're going to have a little bit of a shindig here in a minute where we kind of go through some of those questions for those of you who, Hey, you're brand new, you're wanting to know how to get started. Here's two things I'll tell you, first of all, go to www.NoteSchool.com/TV. That is a great place to kind of take a next step. If you're trying to figure out what that next step is. The second thing is I want to invite you to join us next Wednesday

Brian Lauchner (29:42):

For a special new year's NoteSchoolTV of it, where Eddie speed himself is going to give a state of the industry type of an address. And so that kind of wraps us up for today. We're running a little bit out of time, but I tell you what, you know, what time it is, Joe, it's time for the after party. So bring it.

Brian Lauchner (30:15):

I love it. All right. Well, one of the things that I saw come up in the comment you, as you post in your comments on Facebook or YouTube or wherever it is, you are you're joining us from, we had several come in. One of the things that I saw, Eddie, that popped up right away was just talking about the best rentals to sell via seller financing. Why don't you kind of walk us through that a little bit?

Eddie Speed (30:40):

Well, one of the things that I see all the time, a lot of landlords end up at NoteSchool and the reason they end up at NoteSchool and Lois and Cynthia were great examples of this was that, how do you scale your business, right? I mean, could you really have bought 20 rentals?

Lois (31:02):

No, I don't even want to think about that.

Eddie Speed (31:05):

And so the avail, the scalability being the bank is much different than the scalability of being the landlord. And we really, it means a lot to us because it means that, because you heard Lois and Cynthia talk about retirement, and what they want to be able to do is be the bank and be on the beach, not at Home Depot.

Joe Varnadore (31:31):

Well. Eddie, You didn't, want to, since you're the one that's already retired, You didn't want to be retired as a full time property manager. Right?

Lois (31:40):

Right. But the other thing to think about is that this allows us to diversify our holdings. So instead of just having rentals basically in Houston, and we actually have one in another state as well, but this allows us to have diversification nationwide, urban and rural. So it, that I think is important in building a portfolio of any kind for retirement as well.

Eddie Speed (32:08):

Yeah. And we, one of the things that we talk about is like, what house is, it makes a good note house. So I tell landlords like Lois and Cynthia, when they get involved with us and they kind of get to know us. There's some, there's some training, there's some preparation for this that makes the answer make sense. Right, Brian? You can't just, you can't always understand a punchline answer if you have no base of knowledge to run. So we'll go lay out some math and we'll say, what house doesn't really, it was a good house, but it doesn't really throw off the income you're looking for. Right. And so we'll take that house and say, okay, then what if you noted it like this house that you just showed us, you're getting 900 bucks a month net income. That's impressive. And by the way, you probably could have, you could have probably carried it a little higher interest rate. You probably could've gotten a good bit better down payment. You made a, you made a social choice.

Lois (33:11):

Yes.

Eddie Speed (33:11):

Help somebody. You're still going to make really good money. And I just cannot tell you enough that, you know, I've probably spoken literally through the Seller Finance course. Listen, I've probably spoken to, gosh, no. I mean to over 200 Congress people in Congress, and we talk about the physical responsibility that people seller financing, do you provide home ownership to somebody that otherwise wouldn't have experienced it.

Lois (33:37):

Absolutely.

Eddie Speed (33:39):

And you got to make really good profit helping them experience affordable home ownership.That's a win win.

Lois (33:48):

Yeah. She would have never, ever gotten a loan from a bank or a traditional lender ever. Yeah.

Joe Varnadore (33:52):

Yeah.

Brian Lauchner (33:54):

I think too, when we're talking about the best kind of properties to seller finance, one of the things that Eddie said that it thinks is important to understand is that, there is a specific criteria that we're really looking for, but there are more of those houses than there are of the distressed homes that you might be thinking about as a wholesaler or a flipper or even a landlord. There is more opportunity in this space to find the deals than in the other space. And that's something that I think we take for granted because of how we've been trained to focus on these distress, torn up houses. Right?

Lois (34:24):

Right.

Eddie Speed (34:26):

Yeah.

Lois (34:26):

How did you, M asked how did you find this house in the first place? What was the source of this, this deal?

Lois (34:34):

I think we just, we do a lot of driving in neighborhoods that we think have a lot of potential. So we have been buying properties and working class neighborhoods now for, as Cindy said, six to eight years and we drive the neighborhoods, we start on one street and we go up and down the grid pattern. And then when we find houses that we feel are you know, meet our criteria. So they have to be able to be standing, you know, they have good bones to them, but still in the distress price. And then we're able to go in and get it. So we've done that on in quite a few neighborhoods here in Houston. And like you've said Eddie, you don't make money on rentals from the rent, but you can make money on the rentals from than selling them if you've bought in the right neighborhoods. So we have purchased distressed properties in a lot of neighborhoods and lots, and we will be doubling and tripling our income on them just from the sale because of those locations.

Eddie Speed (35:36):

Yeah. So if somebody is listening and they're wondering, that's called a farming technique, right? Like it could be a highway or major streets and you say within that zone, that's my area. And you're just cruising for, you know, yuck houses, right. And or something that needs fixing and that's all a farming technique. So it's an kind of an old school tech, I don't know who you learn that from. I know some old guys and Houston has a long time, but that you don't hear many modern day new guys in the business talking about that, but that is, that's an old, effective technique.

Brian Lauchner (36:16):

And kind of to the other side of the coin, there was a question about how did you find the buyer? How did you pick the buyer? I saw a theme there and I will say, this is really the other side of the coin. There's not a farming technique necessarily here because of the people we're targeting. We call them penalty box buyers. We teach them all about who they are, but this is the underserved part of the community. And here's a little fun fact for you. I did the math on this. This is a trillion dollar marketplace of buyers, a trillion dollar marketplace. There are more penalty box buyers, especially today than there were this time, last year.

Lois (36:51):

Absolutely.

Brian Lauchner (36:51):

And so finding the buyer is not the hard part. You just need to kind of learn how to tailorin that criteria and then the marketing piece that Eddie teaches so well.

Lois (37:00):

Uh huh. Yes.

Brian Lauchner (37:00):

Let me see, we got time for one more question here. Oh, this is about Eddie, you had mentioned talking about some of the the difference between the Rental Cycle versus the Qwner Finance Cycle or the Seller Financing Cycle, Note Cycle. Tell us a little bit about that before we wrap up here.

Eddie Speed (37:21):

Well, I think it's relevant to a couple of things. So the one thing I would that one thing that I say is that from 2015, to around 2019 or 20, we were in a market where you couldn't really go wrong buying property cause it was going to have an escalation in value. And Joe, I totally got your headline while I go about Zillow. And I've heard a lot of other forecast and stuff, but let me just tell you this, I believe the next five years is going to be a lot more of a Note Cycle than a property is going to grow to the sky cycle. Right? And the reason that I say that when a Note Cycle is really good is when buyers, when there's a lot of people that otherwise could get a conventional mortgage that can't, they have a super big down payment and they're super qualified.

Eddie Speed (38:19):

And so we talk about this a lot, you know, as far as the mortgage banking calls it, the Mortgage Credit Availability. And right now that is about 35% of the people that can get a mortgage in February. Can't get one today. So, Lois and Cynthia can take a house and find a buyer with an inordinately high down payment. I know that their case study had where the, because of the variables we discussed that particular case that it wasn't as big a down payment. I can get 10 to 20% down if they can owner finance, that buyer who otherwise were probably just gotten a regular mortgage back in January of 2020, January, 2021. They can't do that.

Lois (39:02):

Right.

Eddie Speed (39:02):

Now. All of a sudden you got a win win. You put, you made home ownership that big down payment has let either let you get some money at closing, or it's reduced your cost base that you can apply, however you want to. So you didn't, you, you could even make theoretically some transactional money upfront running over time, just depending on what somebody's particular model is. So that's why I say that we've entered a Note Cycle is the market is so rich today to do seller financing. And then once again, Brian, you, the next piece of that puzzle is teaching people. Once you end up with a bunch of notes, somebody says, Oh, well, my money's tied up. How do you go recapitalize it? And boom, boom, boom. You just keep climbing that Hill and building your own bank. Hey, let me ask you a question. Would you rather be a landlord or the bank?

Brian Lauchner (39:58):

That is, well, thank you so much. Lois and Cynthia, thanks to Joe and Eddie. Another great NoteSchoolTV. We will see you all next week, again, stick around. We're going to be having these after parties. So join us, hit that notification bell so that you know, to join us and bring your questions so that we can engage with you and have you on the show. We'll see you next week.

#Real Estate #Real Estate Investing #Notes #Mortgage #Mortgage Notes #Eddie Speed #NoteSchool #NoteSchoolTV #Note School

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nerdettedreamteam · 4 years

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robstar week 2020: day one

hey! i decided to participate again for robstar week and my friend @samdraws715 and i have decided to collaborate once again! i hope you enjoy this years prompts by us, and go check out her page too! she’s insanely talented! here’s to day one!

Star-Aligned/Destiny

Earlier tonight, Robin would’ve never expected to run into four other teens like himself. All of them, in some sense, were on the run and alone. But he didn’t think that in just one night they’d stop an entire alien empire from invading earth. Not bad for a hero’s first meeting.

The five titans walked together as the night had now carried on. They looked around, trying to find an available place to stay.

“If we’re going to work together, we need a private place to stay.” Robin spoke.

“Hmm…” Beast Boy thought aloud as he turned his head looking around him, his eyes finally catching on to an apartment up ahead with a “for sale” sign at the front. “Ooh! What about there?”

“Yeah, because dealing with landlords sounds perfect for people like us.” Cyborg told him. “Besides, it looks a little run down anyways. Why do you wanna live there of all places?”

“Uhhh… free Wi-fi?”

Cyborg rolled his eyes.

“Maybe we’re better off finding a place that’s a little more isolated.” Robin told them. “We all have powers, and staying in a place like this could put the people already there at risk.”

“You do have a point…” Beast Boy rubbed the back of his head. “So if not there, then where?”

Robin pondered on this for a moment. “I heard there’s some small islands outside the city… it’s a little ways away on the water, but it should be big enough for all of us for now, and I think it’s a good distance from the city. I think we should stay there for now.”

“Oh, that sounds wonderful! I am most excited to see this island and stay by the ocean!” Starfire beamed happily.

Robin’s eyes glanced in her direction. She was from another world, so it was normal for her English to be a little broken, but her enthusiasm about staying with her new friends was as clear as day. In a way, he found her positivity and her childlike wonder somewhat charming. He liked that about her.

“I… think it’s this way.” He pointed straight ahead and the others followed him. Starfire flying ahead to walk with Raven, while Cyborg and Beast Boy started talking. Robin walked behind the others stuck in his thoughts.

Why wouldn’t she leave his mind? He hardly even knows her, and he has more important things to do than to think about stuff like this, not to mention he felt weird for thinking about someone who was only a few feet away from him.

“Whatcha thinkin’ about?” Beast Boy suddenly said right next to his ear, which startled Robin a little.

“What?”

“The blank stare looking at the ground, it’s obvious something’s on your mind. Now spill it.” Cyborg appeared on his other side.

“Nothing’s on my mind, okay?” Robin told them.

“Mmm, you sure?” Beast Boy smirked at him.

“C’mon, drop the act, man.” Cyborg cut in. “We already know what it is anyway.”

Robin felt a short pang of nervousness hit his chest.

Beast Boy looked into Robin’s mask, then looked forward in his direction, his eyes landing on Starfire, who was too wrapped up in her conversation with Raven to notice what was happening behind her.

“Ohhhh, I see how it is…” Beast Boy teased.

“I don’t even know what you’re talking about.”

“You’re staring at the alien girl, that’s what.” Cyborg told him.

“Yeah, and you haven’t stopped staring the entire walk so far.” Beast Boy told him.

“I’m wearing a mask, you can’t even see my eyes!”

“We don’t need to see your eyes to know that look of looovvee~” Beast Boy continued to tease him.

“I don’t even know anything about her. She’s just…”

“Cute?”

“Attractive?”

“A good kisser?”

“No!” Robin lowered his head to hide the blush that started to settle on his cheeks. “I was going to say she’s…”

“Unlike anyone you’ve ever met?” Beast Boy added.

Robin raised his hand to protest, but thought about what was said. “T-That’s not a total lie… and I don’t mean it in that way.”

Cyborg and Beast Boy exchanged looks. “I’ll take what I can get,” Cyborg spoke. “but that kiss really did do somethin’ to you.”

Robin rolled his eyes. “It was just surprising, that’s all.”

Cyborg and Beast Boy had continued on with their own conversation leaving Robin alone with his thoughts again. Eventually his thoughts lead him back to thinking about her. He didn’t even know why he kept finding himself drawn to her. Maybe it was just the kind of vibe she gave off. Sure it was almost the complete opposite of his own, but he rather liked the sweetness she had to her. On another hand, she was also a mighty powerhouse; a perfect example of looks being deceiving. She nearly had everyone else beat when they were in battle, so no doubt she could take all of them out if she really wanted to. Her fighting skills were impressive, yet, she had a kind heart. He couldn’t deny it was very admirable of her.

“Robin!” She suddenly exclaimed.

Robin was taken by surprise as his thoughts were interrupted by the girl he was just thinking about. He walked up to the front of the group and stood next to her.

“Is that the island you spoke of?” She pointed to some small land a little ways away in the distance.

Robin smiled. “Yeah, it is. I think we’ll set up camp there for tonight.”

“Sounds good!” Beast Boy said. “Let’s go!” He morphed into a pterodactyl and started to take off.

“Yo, B! Think you could give me a lift?”

Beast Boy nodded, and flew back closer to the ground for Cyborg. Without any hesitation he grabbed the changeling’s dinosaur legs and the two took off. Raven was quick to follow behind them. Starfire was about to join them, when she noticed Robin still there.

“Oh! You cannot fly, correct?”

“Heh, yeah…” Robin chuckled breathlessly. “I don’t have the rest of my stuff with me at the moment. I’m sure if I did I would have something to help me fly as well, but—“

“Would you wish for me to carry you across?”

Robin’s felt his heart rate pick up at the thought. “Ah- Are you sure you want to? I could probably find some other way across—“

“It is no trouble at all, really. Do you want to?”

Robin nodded shyly and a small smile crept upon his face. This caused Starfire to beam once again. “Take my hand.”

Robin took hold of her hand, and then she grabbed his other. “Are you ready?”

Robin nodded, and without wasting much time, she gracefully lifted into the air. Once they were high over the water, he couldn’t help but feel a teeny bit nervous. He had never done this before and knowing that only her hands kept him from falling worried him. He lifted his legs a little and tightened his grip on her hands.

Starfire noticed and giggled. “Relax, I promise I will not drop you.”

Robin laughed a little as well, but noticed that her hands gripped his back tighter as well.

The rest of the ride was pretty silent, and after another minute or so the two had landed.

“Sooooo, how was the flight?” Beast Boy asked the two.

“It was enjoyable! I quite liked it.”

“Y-Yeah, so did I.”

“Cool! Well I hope you two get comfortable because we have our camp! I guess we’ll be sleeping outside tonight though, heh.”

Beast Boy suddenly tossed the two blankets. “Raven summoned them.”

Beast Boy, Starfire and Raven sat around each other talking while Cyborg and Robin set up a canopy like structure using what they had. Once they sat back down with the others, Robin sat up straight.

“So… we’re all in agreement that we’re going to stay together right?”

“Yeah! You guys rock! Plus, I don’t know about the rest of you, but I don’t exactly have anywhere else to go.” He sheepishly smiled and rubbed the back of his head.

The others lowered their heads without saying anything, thinking the same thing as the changeling.

“Okay, so if we all want to work together, that makes us a team.” Robin stated. “Uhhh… so, who wants to be the leader?”

Beast Boy leaned forward and pointed right at him. “You should be the leader, obviously!”

“Really? A-Are you sure?”

“Well, I think you should be anyways.” Beast Boy put his hands on his hips and smiled proudly.

“Yeah, you really know how to take control, man. I think you’d be perfect for the role! Plus, you did bring us all together in the first place.”

Starfire and Raven nodded in agreement.

Robin thought for a moment, then laughed a little and smiled. “Okay, well… I guess I’ll be the leader.”

“Sweet! Now we just need a team name.” Beast Boy started to think. “Hmmm…”

“Maybe we should wait until morning for that… the name is kind of important for the team.”

“You have a good point there, Mr. Leader.” The changeling winked at him.

“Welp,” Cyborg yawned. “Maybe we should go to sleep for now. In the morning maybe we can start coming up with ideas for a home.”

“Oh, how exciting!” Starfire said happily.

“What she said.” Raven agreed.

“Night, dudes.” Beast Boy said before he morphed into a dog and stretching out on his blanket to sleep.

Cyborg’s eyes widened. “Uh, do you always do that when you go to sleep?”

No response came from him as he was already fast asleep.

“Well okay then.” Cyborg shrugged before he got comfortable as well.

The others got comfortable and slept under the stars. Robin rest his head and closed his eyes, thinking about how unexpected today had become. He never would’ve thought he’d end up with four other heroes like himself sleeping on a tiny island over the water. Then again, life was full of surprises.

A few hours had passed, and Robin’s eyes had opened. It was still nighttime, and he had no idea what time it was. He just decided to lay there a little longer, staring up at the stars wondering where life could take him next.

A few moments later, he turned on his side to see his other teammates still sleeping peacefully. Everything seemed just as it was, except one person was missing.

Robin looked around for the alien girl. Did she just decide to leave them? His eyes frantically searched until they stopped on a figure standing right at the edge of the island. Relief flowed through him once he realized it was her. He silently made his way to her and approached her from behind.

“Hey… what are you doing out here?”

“Oh, Robin, it is only you.” She said before gently smiling at him. She turned her head back towards the sky. “I am merely looking out to see the stars. I never knew they were this beautiful to look at from Earth.”

“Yeah… it’s nice honestly.” He walked up beside her.

There was silence between the two as they both stared up at the stars. The only thing that could be heard was the water hitting the edge of the island.

“I wonder if I am able to see Tamaran from Earth.” Starfire broke the silence.

“Tamaran?” Robin looked at her.

“Oh! My apologies… it is my home planet.”

“Oh, gotcha.” Robin felt like an awkward loser for being so blunt with responding. “Do… do you miss it?” He asked her, curious to know more.

Starfire hummed. “I would be lying if I said I did not. Tamaran is a lovely place, at least I always thought so.” Starfire paused. “I know I have only just arrived, but I think I like it here on your Earth. It is different, yes, but intriguing, and you all have been very nice to me… even though I caused the wreakage of the city.”

“It’s no problem, really, I’m just glad you’re okay.” Robin put a hand on her shoulder.

Starfire smiled at the gesture. “I would also like to thank you, Robin.”

“Me? For what?”

“For bringing us together.” She looked over to Cyborg, Beast Boy and Raven still fast asleep. “When I left the Gordanian ship, I thought I would be all on my own, but ever since I left it has been quite the opposite, and I am still here with all of you, and now we are to be a team of heroes.” She turned back to face Robin. “That is all because of you, Robin, and for that, I am thankful.”

Robin gazed at her with fixation. She was insanely sweet and her way with words was adorable. But once he thought about what she said, he took her hands into his own, and her bright eyes stared into his mask.

“Actually, I think us coming together was because of you.”

“Me?”

“Yeah… I mean, if you hadn’t come to Earth, we’d all still be alone right now.” Robin began as he felt his face grow warmer. “I don’t know about the others, but I’m honestly glad this has happened. I’d probably still be on my own somewhere if you hadn’t showed up.” He chuckled a little. “So, I’m happy you helped bring us together. I wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.”

Starfire blushed and continued to stare into his masked eyes. The moonlight seemed to shine even brighter on them in that moment, and they both stared at each other, filled with hope and wondering what the future had in store for them.

#teen titans #robin #starfire #robstar #robstar week #robstarweek2020

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arch-venus25 · 3 years

Text

The Head and the Heart, Part 3

Hello everyone,

I am submitting this for @just-the-hiddles‘s The Damnit Jim, I’m A Vampire, Not A Landlord Fic Frenzy. I chose prompt “1….You can pay your rent in money or in blood.” I was inspired by all the prompts and will probably use them throughout the series. Basically I use the prompts as guide-lines.

This is the first time I have written and shared a fic online– or ever really! It’s also the first time I’ve written anything modern so please let me know what you think! I hope I’m posting this correctly–I created the title art–LOL I’ve never done this before. I’m aiming to update the series each Tuesday. So here we go…

Series Masterlist: The Head and The Heart

Summary: The twins are taking a night off from their graduate studies– or at least Tessa is; her twin sister, Antha, is just trying to keep her out of trouble. What starts as a night of good old-fashioned fun and flirting quickly changes as they find themselves at the doorstep of the Hollow House Bed and Breakfast.

Characters: OFCs Antha and Tessa King, original characters/vampires

WARNINGS: 18+ for suggestive themes and violence, cursing, implied drug use, implied rape, stressful/scary situations, vampires, and characters with incredible hair– you’ve been warned. Read at your own discretion.

Word Count: 4200

Part Three: Delmar Hospitality

Antha slowly raised her hands in surrender. It was the best she could do in this unforeseeable situation. Beads of sweat rolled down her chest and back. The searing chill sobered her instantly. “We—we—” She found her mouth desert-dry and unable to form a coherent sentence.

“Well, are you trespassing or are you lost?” The silken voice demanded.

“We’re—we’re lost.” Antha panted. A light tumble sounded in the wooded brush as Tessa’s mouth fell open with a gasp, only her teeth could be seen. She fainted.

“Oh.” The voice sighed. Before Antha understood what was happening long cool fingers wrapped around her wrist and brought her up to stand. “Here.” Those same fingers handed her the gun. She violently shook, her nails impulsively tapping against the metal of the barrel.

The clouds shifted intermittently, splashing eerie washes of light across the blackness. Long, ethereal white arms appeared out of the dark as the stranger pushed up his sleeves. These bodiless limbs wrapped about Tessa. Am I watching Fantasia? Antha thought—it didn’t even occur to her that she was now armed and could defend them, though she was hardly capable in her muddled state. She stepped back to see him lift her unconscious sister.

The moonlight poured over something akin to a roman statue come-to-life, with a long column neck and limbs. It frightened Antha to see this otherworldly man peer down from his full height—his great silver-colored eyes burning amidst the night. Despite logic, she had the distinct feeling that he could see more of her than she could of him. “I presume you’ve spoken to the police?” He asked calmly.

She patted her legs instinctually and realized her sundress had no pockets. Somewhere far, far away her cellphone was nestled in her messenger bag, in the back of Tessa’s car. She shook her head ‘no’ as she was still at a loss for words. “Well, come along then,” replied the stranger. His accent was clean; obviously he wasn’t born of this slower-lower side of the world but seemingly mimicked their colloquialisms.

Like a white knight he led Antha from darkness and into a comfortably lit yard in the middle of the woods. The well-kept grass stretched in front of them toward a darling little house. There were candle lights in every dormer window, a white-slatted porch with rocking chairs and a sign that said “No Vacancy” to greet them. The stranger turned, “Welcome to Hollow House,” he stated neutrally, not exactly instilling hospitality. Antha clutched the gun in her arms, scanning her surroundings when she could manage to tear her eyes from him.

Tessa looked like a beloved ragdoll, her long braids swinging peacefully with every step. The stranger held her tenderly as if an appendage of himself, her head cradled to his chest. Why couldn’t I have fainted? Why am I always the one to sort everything out? Antha thought. He carried her with ease up the porch steps and hesitated. He hovered over Tessa’s face for a moment as if he was going to plant a magical kiss that would awaken her from slumber. Then he turned to Antha, brows knitting together for a brief moment.

“You’re twins.” He chuckled to himself as if something about that was charming. “Would you please?” He motioned to the screen door. She stood frozen in place as if the simple instruction was too much to fathom. “Antha,” he crooned, “when I take you inside, I will lay your sister down, get you cleaned up, and then we will call the authorities. I will help you sort everything out in no time.”

Thick waves of auburn hair tucked behind his ears and one errant curl falling in his eye line drew her in. His excellent hair aside, he seemed normal enough. Given the monsters she encountered thus far, the normalcy of the house and this stranger were beyond comforting. Additionally, the fact that he held Tessa to his chest made him simply irresistible to deny.

She shook as she reached for the screen door and held it for him, then he swooped Tessa over the threshold into a lovely foyer. A lean spindle-legged table held brochures for Hollow House Bed and Breakfast. The simple cottage layout and plate of cookies at the door all confirmed for her that she was in fact standing in a bed and breakfast. She followed slowly and watched as he laid her sister down in the Hibiscus Room, right off the foyer and overlooking the back patio. The peach tapestries, brick fireplace, and mahogany wooden furniture framed Tessa, making her nothing short of a sleeping beauty with her mane cascading across the crisp pillows.

Antha paced backward as he turned to her, leaving the guest room door cracked open. “I assure you she is fine. How about we set this down?” He carefully approached her to take the gun but she clenched it as if she suddenly couldn’t imagine parting with it.

She didn’t like how he filled up the foyer, frame blocking the dim ceiling light the way an oak tree does the sun. “I’m very sorry about how I approached you before. I heard you two stomping through my woods—and you alarmed me.” He said coolly, not an ounce of excitement in his eyes or face, not even a flush in his cheeks. “Tell me what happened.” When he asked she strangely felt beholden to him. She couldn’t help feeling that he was reading her mind—she knew that was a stupid thought—but something about the way those big eyes held her in place.

“There was a fight, and, and Tessa ran and so I chased after her—we fell and you found us.” She spilled all of the highlights as if she were reading a teleprompter. The prying feeling lessened when he broke eye contact.

“I see. Well, please come sit down, allow me to help.” His voice dripping like honey down the back of a spoon. He went to the small dining room off the foyer, pulled out a chair and politely beckoned her to sit. She wagered the risk for a moment but ultimately leaned the gun against the table—within reach—when she accepted the offered seat.

Feeling naked without the weapon, she held herself as he explained he would bring water. He did everything he said he would and within seconds she found herself staring bewildered into a glass of tap water. Antha felt more at ease when he finally removed the gun from the table and promised to put it away. The kitchen was right off the dining room and she listened as he retreated to the phone, setting the gun down. “…two young women—yes, here at Hollow House. Yes, this is Mr. Smith… Mmm-hmm… No one is harmed. Yes, of course, I understand. Thank you.”

Antha heard the click of the landline phone being holstered and thought about how long it had been since she had heard such a noise. Since her grandmother’s house she supposed. Her eyes continued their investigation as she waited. Trying to remind herself that she was just on-guard from the hellish night Tessa had put her through.

The cottage was fine, everything in place. A fruit bowl on display, frills on every corner, the carpet vacuumed. He did everything he said he would, she reminded herself again as she sat on her shaking hands. She was fine. They would wait for the police. They would be fine, she convinced herself.

He returned to the table with a plate and towel in hand. The plate was placed in front of her and then he bent with a damp cloth and pressed it to her forehead. For a moment Antha found herself quite overwhelmed, quaking in her seat, the adrenaline threatening to keep her on the run until her heart gave out.

“I believe your story checks out Miss Antha,” he said humorously, “the police said that there was an awful scuffle at the bar out by the road. Once they’re done cleaning that up, they will come to get you two.”

“Mr. Smith, how did you know my name?” She asked, just over-hearing his from the phone call.

“I could hear you calling to each other.” He explained. “You two created quite the ruckus out there.” He was leaning closer than Antha would have preferred. She never recalled Tessa calling out for her. She also didn’t think she told him about the bar either—stop being stupid Antha, the police told him about the bar, obviously, she chastised herself, her paranoia getting the better of her.

After pulling the twigs from her braids, wiping the dirt from her forehead and neck he bent to one knee to clean her hands. She sipped her water and stared down at him. His hair was a bit longer than how most men would wear it now, wing-tipped behind his ears and lending to the romance of an Edwardian fashion. The long bridge of his nose and well-placed lips made him truly worth staring at, like the classical paintings in her textbooks. When he wrapped the cloth over one of her palms his nostrils flared. “That’s a nasty scrape.”

Antha didn’t realize she was bleeding from when she caught herself on the pavement of the parking lot. Before he sat, she observed his dark button-down shirt partially tucked into slacks; his musculature was not consistent with his occupation. This guy works out for serving cookies and delivering extra pillows, she thought and continued sipping her water. Those great nocturnal eyes never left her, even as he reached toward a bowl on the table, his eyes stayed with her.

“Here, you must be starved,” he showed his hand to reveal a whole pomegranate. Before she could deny the fruit he tore it open between his large hands. The leathery skin shredded apart as the sanguine juice dotted his pale fingers, the table, and the plate in front of her. Antha could hear herself swallow as the little massacre happened right before her eyes. “Eat, Persephone, and never be released from my palace.” He laughed.

“I know that myth,” she forced a scoff despite how anxious she felt. She was compelled to be still, attempting to plan her next moves. She wasn’t sure if she was still out of fear or if he was willing her to sit. There was this scratching at the back of her mind again, like a dog at the backdoor, relentlessly trying to get into her subconscious.

“I had a feeling you would.” He replied knowingly. He leant into his palm on the table, as if fearing she would be too far from him. His offering seemed forced as if he had just read a beginner’s manual of cordiality. Nothing felt organic or friendly. Everything is fine, was what she thought, but something in her gut told her, but not safe. As if an ocean could not quench her thirst Antha finished the water and jolted upward from her seat.

“I need more water,” she stated blatantly and made her way to the kitchen before he could offer. She felt she could breathe for a moment without those curious gray orbs on her. The kitchen was outdated, but appeared older due to the orange cast of the overhead fan light ticking away, struggling to cool the space. She clutched the sink as if it was her last anchor to the earth. Her eyes kept shooting upward to the dark window in front of her. All she could see was her reflection and the open doorway to the dining room behind her; she was trying to watch her back, making sure nothing suddenly moved.

While the tap poured foggy water into her glass her eye caught a picture on the counter with a little old white-haired man and woman, their wrinkles holding their sunglasses in place, with Rehoboth Beach in the backdrop. “When are the cops coming?” She called weakly, trying to appear conversational and unsuspecting.

“Realistically tomorrow morning, not long from now.” His voice carried. He was still at the dining table. Good, stay there, she thought.

“Oh, we couldn’t trouble you for that long!” Her voice broke against her will, unsure why panic was suddenly rendering her immobile, holding white-knuckled to the sink. Why was there an empty room for Tessa? The sign said ‘no vacancy’.

Staring at the picture, she saw it said The Smiths 2016. The water was streaming over her hand, overflowing from the already full cup. Her eyes found the reflection of the gun leant up against the ancient landline phone on the wall in the window; it wasn’t the phone itself that made the blood drain from her face, it was the severed phone line dangling from the receiver like a noose. Her heart plunged into her stomach as she pieced together the clues—they were in very real danger.

“I insist you stay,” the rich-timbered-inflection was too close, and cold breath trickled down the back of Antha’s neck. There was no reflection of the man behind her in the window, all she could see was the terror on her face.

Glass shards and water exploded against the sink as her hand lost her cup. Her feet left the ground as she found herself turned, and lifted to the counter, her back against the cabinetry. “There’s no possible way we can stay—you see—I, I have misplaced my wallet!” She stammered, attempting to rationalize the situation.

“I’m positive we can agree on an alternate arrangement.” He wedged himself between her thighs, pulling her to the edge of the counter, his nails growing and sinking into her lower back like meat hooks. She had never seen someone so malevolent and beautiful in equal measure as he loomed over her mouth.

“—Please, I must take my sister home—” she begged, not knowing what was to come. “I can’t leave her—we have to go home!” Tears welled in her eyes as she tried to pull away from the stranger, but found herself latched to him with nowhere to run. His hands held strong as his lips reached the shell of her ear.

“I wouldn’t dream of separating a pair—she will follow you shortly.” He promised. “Stay.” He told her as if commanding her soul. She found herself unable to fight, her muscles waning as if under a spell. The cold of his cheek dragged across hers as he pulled back to look over her face, his feral irises dilating, impersonal and hungry. His grin displayed a mouth-full of pearly teeth as he sunk to the floor and splayed open Antha’s legs. He hummed gluttonously when he kissed the inside of her knee. His canine teeth grew outward, revealing pristine fangs the closer he drew to her apex. This isn’t real—what is he doing? Her mind raced, her fingers searching blindly on the counter for aid. He threw one of her legs over his shoulder and Antha mustered the last of her will to kick him in the face before she could find out.

She launched herself from the counter clumsily as the stranger recoiled, her muscles waking up from their enchantment. After snapping his broken nose back into place, he caught a second wind and lunged for her neck. Instinctively, her wrapped hand shoved the stray piece of glass from her broken water cup into the corner of his mouth. He leant against the counter, retracted his fangs and smiled through it, as if he had been pleasantly surprised.

She snatched the gun as she darted to a nearby door in the kitchen. Her hands frantically locking the door and then searching for a light. Rickety wooden stairs bowed under her feet as she followed carefully forward, her gun-hand sliding down a railing and the other on its mission for a light switch. She could hear him groan as he pulled forth the glass and the blood spilled to the linoleum floor. “Antha, darling,” that same penetrating voice hummed above her as he gathered his bearings, “stay and fight me off—I do so enjoy this.” She could hear him gagging and spitting—she could only hope the glass shard spliced his gums.

Finally, as if her prayers had been answered, her hand found what it had been seeking. She flipped the light switch on to find one lone dangling bulb above her. For the third time of evening, Antha’s feet left the earth and she toppled over a pile of laundry at the base of the stairs. She saw nothing to defend her, no place to hide. When she scooted back from the heap, she saw fuzzy white tufts. To her horror she recognized old Mr. Smith crumpled atop other bodies, their throats and wrists torn out, blood pooling across the floor.

Antha covered her mouth to stop from screaming. Her tear ducts working hysterically as she distanced herself from the carnage. How did I end up here? This can’t be happening! The cautious twin thought to herself, why me? The rattle of the door knob broke through her shock as the perpetrator tried to gain access to the basement. The foundation shook as he began ramming himself into the basement door—BAM—BAM—BAM—the door and frame failing under his inhuman force, the wood splintering and the drywall crackling.

Searching again for anything to save her, as if she was swarmed in answers that her brain could not comprehend in its panic—Antha finally noticed a cellar door. Rushing to it, she undid the inside latch and pushed upward to get out. She could hear the basement door explode, the skittle-like bounce of nails and screws as it finally gave way under his might. Throwing the door back down she jammed the handle with a nearby shim.

Scrambling through the backyard she hid behind a tree, knowing that it was only a temporary delay for him. The stranger was much too keen for her to outrun she guessed, she definitely couldn’t fight him—perhaps hiding would give her a moment to develop an escape path back to Tessa, an element of surprise—or anything—against him. Antha’s pulse hammering, the vein in her neck thick like an anaconda as the adrenaline coursed through her. She cocked the gun blindly, praying she did it right—worst case scenario she was going to go out swinging the damn thing. How will I get to Tessa?

Antha pressed her back into the large tree, her gun readied. Trickles of blood ran hot down her legs from his vicious claw marks. She tried to control her breath, but his fury found the cellar doors faster than she wanted. The slamming began again until one of the cellar door’s peaked upward, his elbow bending it as if mere tinfoil. Seconds later the door flew into the yard, mangled.

“I imagined Tessa to be the runner!” He laughed as he emerged from the ground, taking his time. “Antha, come back to me.” His voice fell into a low growl as he scanned the yard. Her hands shook with resentful readiness.

Then there was silence, abrupt and oppressive. Her ears strained but could not hear his panther like steps. She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, hoping it would aid her hearing—but she was met with complete nothingness. She couldn’t hold her breath any longer, and the faint hiss of her exhale trumpeted amongst the stifling stillness. It must have given her away as the lean, wiry fingers found her throat and ripped her up from the ground like a dandelion.

She shoved the gun tip to his chest, ready to take out his heart. But to her unfathomable dread, the gun failed her. The dead click of an ammo less shotgun became nothing more than a toy prop in her dire moment. She did what she could to wield it like a bat, but was unsuccessful as he caught it and crushed it in his other hand. Suffocating in his grip she tried to break free.

“You’re insufferable,” he sneered, his mouth growing its tissue back and reconstructing the damage he endured moments prior. “Did you think I would leave it loaded?” His bright steely eyes scouring over her struggling frame. “As enjoyable as this was, our time is unfortunately over. I will make you a promise.” He pulled in closer, “I will take my time with Tessa.”

Without cue a wet, meaty sound cut through the woods. The stranger gasped, full of horror and rage as he reached to his chest. A fire iron pierced through from his back. His eyes, nose, ears, and mouth began to bleed. Antha pushed out of his grasp when he lurched forward to the ground. She was on the brink of unconsciousness as she wheezed for breath. She found Tessa was the great impaler. “I’m—not done with—you foolish girls…” He hissed like a deflating tire, his immortal sinews collapsing like a bowl of spaghetti dumped onto the lawn.

Tessa skirted the rapid decay and pulled Antha into her arms. Stock-still they watched. They bared witness as he writhed, his porcelain skin dripped with taffy-like stretch and slid off his bones. He melted into a puddle, with nothing recognizable left except lumps of clothing and two silver eyes. Tessa reached toward the eyes, but her sister stopped her.

All that could be heard was their panting and the fizzle of a creature dissolved. They looked to each other, wordless and beyond repair. After a moment or two they drug themselves around the side of the house and toward the driveway. Hearts still punching against their ribcages, the girls numbly followed the long-wooded drive.

When they finally made it to the main road they found the next street lamp was another mile off. All that could be heard was the rustle of the surrounding crops. They followed the road back toward the light of civilization. Antha couldn’t shake the horror of the Smith’s being slaughtered by that thing. She shivered again, feeling the stranger’s eyes on her. She tried to push the thought down. It’s dead, she thought.

After sometime Tessa began to speak, “I woke up and saw a little old lady on the side of the bed. Her neck was covered in strawberry jam,” she paused strangely, “but I knew it wasn’t jam Ant.” She whined.

“I know, I know.” Antha stopped to soothe her. Tessa buried her head into her sister’s neck and they held strong for barely a moment before weeping. Antha had never been so relieved to have her sister. She couldn’t believe Tessa was the one to save them. From now on she would abandon her role as the babysitter. All of her safe-keeping and methodical avoidance of danger had failed them both. It was Tessa’s wild heart that saved them.

“I couldn’t believe you kicked him in the face.”

“You saw that?”

“I almost lost my shit—hey, what was he doing down there?” Tessa finally asked.

“The femoral artery is—well and when you factor in gravity—” Antha’s analytical side kicked in but then quickly dissipated from the stress. “I’ll tell you when you’re older.” She finally sighed, unable to comprehend the fact that she was almost drained by her crotch. Both of them smirked but within a breath were crying again.

“I’m so tired.” Tessa grumbled and then called for Zoey three times, wishing she would appear to take them home.

“Doug… Doug… Doug…” Antha whispered to herself.

Just as they thought the night would never end and their blood-stained clothes would never dry, they heard the familiar wheeze of Doug’s old Buick.

After a deluge of crying, embracing, and the erratic retelling of the whole evening, the twins found themselves buckled in the backseat on their way to the emergency room. Tessa finally sighed when Doug stopped looking at them in his rear-view mirror. He must have mumbled to himself “…vampires?” at least a dozen times as he drove. She sidled into Antha, holding her hand with an iron-clad grip and closed her eyes. Antha couldn’t relax. Her nerves were beyond frayed and she grew uncomfortable under the weight of her sister’s weary head. Something blunt was stabbing into her backside and she shifted in her seat.

The bright lights of the emergency room entrance burned the teary-eyed passengers. Doug pulled up and jumped out of his car, opening the door for them. “What the hell is in this car—you got rocks back here?” Antha sassed him about cleaning his Buick as she dug out the troublesome object in her seat. Tessa did the same, unbuckling herself and wriggled in discomfort.

“I just vacuumed, like last year,” he defended, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. In the commotion of the two digging around and shuffling old coke-a-cola bottles and vintage DVDs, they suddenly ceased. A strange silence fell between them. “What is going on back here?” He stared anxiously at them.

Each twin opened a hand to find one silvery, gleaming eye.

Twinning Taglist: If you want to be added or removed just let me know; please share with anyone that might be interested. I would love any and all feedback so I can learn and become a better writer. Thank you! I tagged some people that I thought would be interested in this. @myoxisbroken @just-the-hiddles @vodka-and-some-sass @nildespirandum @yespolkadotkitty @latent-thoughts @emeraldrosequartz @villainousshakespeare @hopelessromanticspoonie @caffiend-queen @poetic-fiasco @lokimostly @dianamolloy @marvelgirlonamarvelworld @brightsunanddarkmidnight2-0 @cateyes315 @mooncat163 @nuggsmum @myraiswack @wolfpawn @plastic-heart @confusednerd09

#landlord vampire fic frenzy #twinning vs vamps #arch-venus25 writes

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