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writethehousedown · 4 years

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get my heart attached to you ( trinity centered, multi ) - Lily

summary: trinity and monique are close teammates who play for the same football team abroad, while training for their next game they can't help but think about other things. [ title from “when I think of you” by janet jackson, for the prompt “heat” ]

author's note: me being a sports gay will never fucking die huh. wallah, had to write a lil something because I have enjoyed reading the various fics that have been churned out! I am also intensely spreading trinity/sports gay propaganda always !! I liked their volleys and personalities together on all stars, hope it's decent <3 trintox, momo and vanique are the ships in this: I barely write monique or vanessa but damn I love monique. worth the shot!

— *.✧

The heatwave in Barcelona was utterly immeasurable.

Monique wanted to gag.

She knew that being a professional athlete especially for a sport so cardio driven as football meant she'd have to dull out the extreme heat in order to play at most locations however, this seemed inhumane.

Football was always going to be riddled with money, complications and referees. It was simply the name of the game and had been since they both began to train at their individual academies at a young age.

Years and years of playing the sport and her absolute least favourite location to play in was Spain.

She'd been contracted to Tottenham for almost five seasons now; she preferred the grey and rainy skies of England to the absolute pit of hell that was the Iberian peninsula.

"You're not even phased by all this?" She asked Trinity who shrugged, her blue and white cleats dribbling her almost deflated football between the points of her feet.

"It's for the Champions League, I don't care if I pass out, I wanna win those points against Barcelona tomorrow."

"Girl you stay determined, I admire that."

The Floridan also felt right as if she was at home. The only difference being the humidity and mugginess.

Orlando is just as awful, it feels like my childhood all over again.

The brunette tied her hair back into a bun as she tossed her fellow teammate a new, cold water bottle.

"Drink before you pass out, you're sweating like a sinner in church."

Monique rolled her eyes though she immediately grabbed the water, barreling down as if they had been stuck in the Sahara.

She laid on the turf, Trinity grabbing her legs as she began to stretch her out.

"God you're tense," she mumbled before she continued on, "You need to stretch more especially since you're a striker and we need them powerful legs of yours."

"Thank you captain!"

Trinity flinched, it felt a bit odd to be singled out as a captain for the team. Monique found it quite odd; she was one of the most humble and determined players in the entire sport.

She had proven time and time again her loyalty, she'd never understand how Trinity didn't think she deserved her current position.

"Be all shy and cute for the cameras but you know deep down that you deserve to be running this team and wearing that armband," she inquired as she heard Trinity mumble something under her breath.

"Girl I don't know, I'm just trying to win, I don't need any extra pressure from any kind of media or fans," the brunette insisted as she juggled the ball, kicking her knees up.

Monique cocked a brow as she realized it would probably be better to say nothing. She quickly joined Trinity and practiced her own dribbling skills with the various balls that laid across the training field.

The forward player prayed that nothing about her behaviour was too off to Monique.

Nothing about playing a game made her nervous, in fact it calmed her down a bit, it was a distraction from her current thoughts.

There was however, an extremely different kind of heat that came to mind when Trinity heard their next bracket matchup for the Champions League was going to be against Barcelona.

Her face must've cracked the moment she heard Barcelona would be one of their three group rivals for the tournament.

She remembered distinctly how their team watched the group drawing happen from their training building in London and aimlessly waved their hands around knowing the draw was in their favour besides FC Barcelona being pulled.

Well shit.

Trinity sighed heavily, loud enough for some of her teammates to question why she felt so downtrodden against playing Barcelona.

She knew that was an entirely different story she couldn't speak on or delve into it; it felt too wrong and far too misplaced.

Monique snapped her back to reality as she asked if Trinity wanted to take a few laps with her around the field.

"Might as well make use of the time we have," the Missouri native hummed, "I know coach is probably gonna make us work with the goalie soon let's be real."

The brunette agreed, a fake and plastered smirk across her face as they headed towards the track.

A distraction was what she needed surely especially the day before the big, first match up of their group stages.

"Anyone in particular you wanna destroy tomorrow, purely for fun?" Monique asked, gently nudging her fellow teammate as Trinity felt her entire head explode at the question.

"Nicky and Detox are both forwards so guess I have to pick between them," Trinity commented as Monique laughed aloud, the two of them both picking up speed.

She felt herself remember everything from almost a month ago—she remembered back in London when they had invited Barcelona for a simple friendly game, nothing too special.

Yet somehow, things managed to gravitate towards the worst.

***

Trinity couldn't remember exactly why and how she had managed to slip in Detox to her hotel room after the game ended but she almost didn't want to know.

The incessant staring after forty five minutes had ceased; the occasional sharp tongued and witty comebacks to each other's insults, the not-so-accidental touching that occurred.

Well—as accidental as it could be still being utterly weary of the dreaded yellow and red cards.

She wasn't sure how it started but she was determined to keep it going. It made her heart feel some kind of way, whether extremely turned on or anxious she couldn't tell you the difference.

The heat was real, it had been for awhile though neither of them knew how to feel about the situation.

Two cups of wine and they both managed to build up liquid courage enough to make a move or some kind of statement.

They kissed passionately, the blonde immediately grabbed the other woman and pulled her towards her lap. Both of them far too lazy to move off the couch.

They made out with nothing but drive, as if they somehow had been begging for each other's company and touch this entire time.

Their lips met, Detox smirked, nothing but a snarky comment about how she could taste the sports drink flavouring that stained Trinity's lip.

"God shut up, we've only been kissing a few minutes and you're already infuriating."

"You're acting like I meant it as a bad thing baby," the blonde commented softly as she cupped both of her hands around her opponent's cheeks.

The moment their skin touched so softly was when Trinity panicked. She didn't know if she could handle a true, genuine connection to her own competition.

"You're my rival you know," Trinity slipped out as Detox blinked, almost impressed that the brunette managed to state the obvious so innocently.

"I know," the Barcelona forward laughed, her lips outlined the other woman's jaw. Her hands gently slid across her waist, a tight grip on her hips as she spoke once again.

"It makes this twice more fun, it's a thrilling experience for the both of us."

How idiotic.

Two competitors and athletes on different ends of the spectrum once again seemed to follow that delusional, charming fantasy.

They both knew the utter amount of backlash that would appear if anyone ever even saw them together in any kind of romantic light.

All of this and yet Trinity let the kissing ensue for longer and longer.

Every passing minute grew into a bigger ball of heat. The two took turns stripping their dirty, sweaty jerseys and uniforms off each other piece by piece. It was one of the most gratifying moments of Trinity's entire life.

If Trinity had known that all she wanted was some blonde to come and destroy her frivolously she would've asked much earlier in their careers.

"Do you actually want this or am I just the lucky one for tonight?"

Trinity dug her nails into Detox's shoulder, angered that she had suggested this entire thing being just a spur, no irony there, of the moment joke.

"I want you, I certainly won't if you keep talking however."

Detox grinned as she licked her lips, eyeing the brunette up and down, she noticed Trinity's cheeks begin to flush.

"That we can accomplish," the blonde whispered as her fingertips traced the football player's bare chest.

"Then get to it."

"Bossy. You're just as controlling here as you are on the field."

Trinity began to grow tired of the small talk, their lips drew together shamelessly; nothing short of fireworks seemed to blow out of the pits of the brunette's stomach.

It felt so wrong and yet, it still seemed like the most right decision she had ever made.

***

Trinity had never been so thankful for such unforgiving heat. She could excuse all the sweat and unforgiving memories as simply effects from the typical Barcelona climate.

"Can I ask you about something?"

Monique's question seemed light-hearted enough though the forward nodded nervously, praying to every religion that her fellow teammate hadn't managed to put together the puzzle pieces.

"Go ahead," she replied nonchalantly, shrugging even if her heart seemed to pace at an irregular beat, her nerves completely heightened.

"Girl, I don't know if it's the heat or what but I'm feeling some type of way about Miss Vanessa."

Oh thank God.

"Mateo? The transfer?"

Vanessa had been their winter loan of the season, she was quite a good defender for someone of her size. She had the most irreplaceable energy and attitude.

"Yeah," Monique said, stretching out the word as long as possible. The brunette could hear her voice go up the octave as she began to speak on how Vanessa had asked her out yesterday.

"Oh damn," Trinity laughed, impressed that the Puerto Rican clearly even after just a week was completely on a mission to take her friend on a date.

"Bitch good for you, she's nice enough and very funny, I feel like you'd enjoy yourselves."

Monique gave a small smile as she sighed, pushing the long hair from her face as she insisted that somehow it wouldn't feel right after her breakup with Monét.

"Oh so you're scared to move on is what I'm hearing."

"No, no, those are lies!" The statement must've struck a deep chord within the other woman, her entire expression seemed to tense up.

"You broke up only a month ago, it's okay to still be thinking about it, no one is making you feel ashamed about it."

Monique crossed her arms, now regretting this conversation topic.

She knew deep in her heart some of those feelings were still locked away even a month later but she wasn't going to let anyone get the satisfaction of finding that out.

"Okay, let's say that's why, which it isn't," Monique began as she pointed a finger towards her friend, the two of them still running aimlessly around the field. "What do you think?"

Trinity was in absolutely no place to give consolidating relationship advice considering her current situation however, she knew Vanessa was certainly worth a shot.

"Go for it, if you think she's gonna be good fun then take a chance."

"She's so pretty," Monique groaned as she glared out of the corner of her eye, watching as Vanessa practiced drills with their club's goalie. "I think I'm gonna say yes when we're alone."

Trinity smiled, happy that Monique had some semblance of getting over her last relationship. Monét was lovely, a very great teammate.

She remembered the shock they had both felt as they tied with the UEFA Player of the Year award.

Trinity would've rather Monét simply won than have to share the trophy; the snarky comments and blatant hatred of the results had truly pushed them both to become better friends.

It was a bonding experience to scroll through each other's social media and giggle along at comments while half way tipsy in another country.

She was still a bit surprised they had broken up. Nothing seemed to be outwardly wrong though Trinity wasn't Monique, she couldn't grasp every interaction or moment simply by asking.

"Go for it."

"Speaking of going for it," the other woman said, once again flipping around the conversation topic to whatever she desired. "How about you Miss Taylor, I'm shocked she's still on the market!"

The brunette felt chills run down her spine, she in general hated any conversation about relationships but considering all of the things that had been going on with Detox, it felt almost wrong to speak on it.

"She's a busy and focused woman," Trinity replied, "I'm not gonna get into a relationship right now, too many things going on." She adjusted her hair as she felt Monique shake her vigorously.

"Please let me set you up, there is no way that there isn't at least one person or another who catches your eye."

Well, she's not wrong there…

"No matchmaking. Maybe after we win the Champions League though."

Monique sighed in defeat, "I'm always here."

"I know, thank fuck for that," Trinity grumbled as the two hugged. Moments like these always seemed to distract from their giant bubble that revolved around their sport.

"We'll find a perfect woman for you someday or another."

Girl if you already knew.

Trinity grinned, "Yeah, maybe one day."

#rpdr fanfiction #momo #vanique #trintox #monique heart #monet x change #vanessa vanjie mateo #trinity the tuck #detox #lily #football au #sports gays always!#summer lovin' 2020 #day 4: heat #submission

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melodiouswhite · 5 years

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Jekyll’s batshit bride

“-Could we begiiiiin again?”, Lisa sang sadly. “Once upon a dreee-”

“Alright, alright, I will tell you, but stop!!!”, he groaned.

Lisa and John exchanged a victorious look.

“Don’t get smug”, Jekyll muttered, “You’ll hate me after this.”

Lisa took his hand and said: “Henry, I could never hate you.”

John nodded: “Neither could I.”

Jekyll smiled bitterly. “You’ll change your mind soon”, he promised.

…

When he had finished his explanation, the lab was filled with awkward silence.

Finally Lisa cleared her throat: “Alright … so it’s this way now. Guess we’ll just have to deal with it. No point in running away from it.”

Jekyll looked up. “You’re not turning me in?”

“No.”

“Don’t you hate me?”

Both of them shook their heads.

His eyes filled with tears. “But … but … Hyde … I did all these horrible things … I’m a monster!”

“No, you’re not. Don’t call yourself a monster. Those bastard board members had it coming. It’s their fault you had to do this to yourself”, Utterson protested.

Jekyll bit his lip. How could John be so convinced of that?

“He’s right. You’re not a monster”, Lisa said gently and wiped the tears from his eyes. “From the start I knew that you’re not like the others. That’s why I fell for you. I love you. I don’t care, if you have Hyde. You’re you and Hyde is himself. Maybe he’s frustrated, because you try so hard to get rid of him. Perhaps if you respected him and treated him like a person, he would at least be a little less mean to you.”

Jekyll’s eyes widened. He had never seen it that way. Once again, his fiancée was the person who understood. However-

“But … do you still want to marry me? Even though you know that I could do unspeakable things to you as Hyde?”

“Yes. Don’t worry about me. I’m confident that I can handle him.”

“We need a plan, though”, John agreed, “What do we do about Hyde? How do we deal with him for now?”

Lisa’s face darkened. “We do it Carew Style.”

…

The wedding was the happiest day in both Henry’s and Lisa’s life.

They were finally married.

And now came the dance after the ceremony.

“Mrs. Jekyll, may I have this dance?”

“Dr. Jekyll, you may have every dance!”

John was talking to Danvers Carew, who had of course been put into the picture as well (”I would turn you in, but those twats deserved it”), conversing about whatever.

Lisa didn’t care.

She was dancing in her new husband's arms and everything was sunshine and rainbows, as usual, when a woman gets to marry the guy they love.

Anyway, they were waltzing happily, when suddenly Henry tensed up and let go.

Something was wrong and John and Lisa noticed it immediately.

“Henry? What is it?”, he asked in concern.

Jekyll groaned something in his ear and the lawyer’s eyes widened.

“Oh crap!”

“Get me out of here!”, the doctor gasped, “This can’t be happening! Not on our wedding day-”

The rest was drowned out in pained screaming.

Lisa, John and - everyone, really - watched in horror, as Jekyll slowly and painfully transformed into his evil self. Although it could be safely said, that Lisa, her father and John were the calmest people in the room - as you would expect from someone who knows the truth.

Hyde wasted no time in taking the new wife hostage and making the ordinary evil threats of killing her, should anyone do something.

What he didn’t account for though, was that Lisa was not only not scared - she was pissed off beyond mortal comprehension.

Before anyone knew what was happening, she had elbowed him in the stomach, tripped him and was pinning him down, twisting his arm over his back.

It was a pretty hilarious and preposterous sight, how the petite woman was pinning down such a huge guy, but it was really happening.

He was sputtering profanities, but immediately fell silent, when she held a knife to his throat.

“So you’re the creep, who’s screwing with my husband, huh?”, she snarled angrily, “And on top of that you have the nerve to ruin my special day? You must be fucking suicidal!”

“LET GO OF ME, YOU CRAZY BITCH!!!”

“DAFUQ DID YOU JUST CALL ME?! A CRAZY BITCH??? YOU FUCKING KILLED PEOPLE, YOU PSYCHO!!! NOW GIVE HENRY BACK!!! GIVE MY HUSBAND BACK!!! OR ELSE!!!”

“THERE IS NO MORE JEKYLL! THERE IS ONLY HYDE!!!”

“YOU’RE LYING!!! NOW GIVE HIM BACK!!! OR I WILL SHOW YOU NOT TO MESS WITH LISA CAREW!!!”

Danvers Carew applauded. “That is my daughter! Give it to him, Lisa! Destroy him!”

Lisa shrugged. “I can’t, he’s still kind of my husband.”

“HAH!!!”

“DON’T GET SMUG, YOU ARSEHOLE!!! I CAN STILL CRUSH YOUR FUCKING BALLS!!! I’M SURE HENRY WILL FORGIVE ME, IF I TELL HIM I WAS ACTING IN SELF-DEFENSE! NOW GIVE HIM BACK! GIVE! HIM! BAAAAAACK!!!”

Hyde growled something that sounded suspiciously like: “Fuck you!”

Lisa’s rage intensified and she twisted his arm, until it almost broke and he screamed in pain. “YOU’RE FUCKING WITH THE WRONG BITCH HERE!!! YOU RUINED MY WEDDING DAY AND NOW YOU’RE GONNA PAAAAAYYYY!!! GIVE ME MY HUSBAND BACK, IF YOU WANT TO LIVE!!!”

John spoke up: “Give him back. We know he’s in there. And that’s your luck, because otherwise we would fucking kill you. Lisa could easily snap your neck. As for me, I have a gun and a sword cane and I’m not afraid to use either.”

His tone was levelled and dangerously calm.

Hyde growled something under his breath, then he began to shrink and turn back into the more shapely form of Henry Jekyll.

“Henry?”, Lisa inquired softly.

“It’s me”, he whispered back. “Can you please let go, my crazy angel?”

She let go of his arm. Then she and John proceeded to help him get up.

“Are you alright, Henry?”, John asked worriedly.

Jekyll smiled back. “I am now. Thanks to the both of you.”

“Sure, you mad scientist”, John replied with a broad grin.

“Anytime, my love”, Lisa said sweetly.

“Wh-what - WHAT THE HECK WAS THAT?!”

They turned around to see a corpsely pale Simon Stride staring at them, as if they were some kind of freakshow.

“You ... you monster!”, he choked out and pointed at Jekyll, “You freak! You crime against nature, you danger against society! You ... You ...”

“Go on!”, Lisa interrupted him with a hiss, “Keep insulting my husband! I dare you, you self-absorbed twit!”

The arsehole secretary now proceeded to gape at her. “And you ... who the hell are you?! A crazy fury like that isn’t my Lisa!”

“She never was your Lisa to begin with!”, Henry snarled and wrapped his arms around his wife possessively.

Lisa glowered at him. “And what did you expect? That my talk about not being weak, obedient and sweet was just a woman’s rambling? Well, have I got news for you - you’re wrong! Henry accepted that and that’s why he’s my husband and not you! Besides, he’s the cutest thing in existence.”

Jekyll grinned. “And you’re the hottest woman in the entire Empire, especially when you get badass like this!”

“Oh, you cheeky devil!”, she giggled.

“YOU’RE BOTH MONSTERS!!!”, Stride shrieked.

Now it was Danvers Carew’s turn to be pissed.

“Dafuq did you just say about my daughter and son-in-law?!”, he snarled. Then he attacked.

John - who had left them for a bit to call the coach - joined them again, to inform the bride couple, that the coach was there and Lucy was waiting for them.

The doctor smiled happily. “Well then, my dear angel! Allow me to sweep you off your feet!”

Then he swept her up in his arms. She laughed and wrapped her arms around his neck.

Her father spoke up again. “Henry - you better treat my daughter like a queen!”, he said, while strangling Stride.

Henry laughed: “Oh no! I will treat her like the goddess she is!”

Then he carried his wife off.

...

“How was the wedding?”, Lucy asked curiously, as the coach drove further and further away from the church.

Jekyll sighed: “It was wonderful, until Hyde ruined everything.”

John smirked: “But it was totally worth it to see Lisa turn into a total badass! She almost broke Hyde’s arm, yelled at him and held a knife to his throat, until he backed out. Then Sir Carew choked Stride and it was all priceless.”

“In a church?!”, the prostitute asked incredulously.

The other three nodded.

“And you actually managed to overpower Mr. Hyde?”

“Yup”, Lisa said, “I was trained in combat ever since I was small. It wasn’t that hard.”

Lucy pouted. “I wish I had seen it.”

For a minute, everyone was quiet, as the coach drove on.

Then Lisa spoke up, turning to John and Lucy. “Sooo ... now that you know just how crazy the two of us are ... are you still in for a polyamorous relationship?”

“Of course”, Lucy smiled, “After all, I have you now to protect me.”

“And I will be the voice of reason between all of your madness”, John joked and everyone laughed.

Jekyll stopped laughing, when he felt Hyde stir inside him.

“Your wife is mad!”

Guess you two have that in common, he thought back drily.

“I like her!”

Oh no.

“I think I could get used to this!”

Jekyll smiled crookedly.

Just remember today, should you ever feel the urge to tick off Lisa Jekyll.

#jekyll and hyde #Dr. Jekyll #henry jekyll #utterson #Gabriel John Utterson #Mr Utterson #lisa carew #lucy harris #Mr. Hyde #edward hyde #sir danvers carew #simon stride #crack fic #polyamory

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lumiolivierlithium · 3 years

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The Good Old Days Chapter 31: Meet Me in Monaco

A/N: We interrupt this adventure of Lumi sluttin around on the internet for what she actually does on the internet. Enjoy, my loves. Enjoy.

I couldn’t sleep. There was no chance in hell I’d be sleeping tonight. Fuck Christmas morning. Christmas morning had nothing on this. After a trip to church that I may or may not have fallen asleep in the middle of, but don’t tell Mama, and more food than what one person should ever have a right to, I laid in bed, staring at the ceiling. Nothing. Even if I were to do a couple tequila shots, I wouldn’t be sleeping tonight. That’s what the flight can do. I always slept like a baby on airplanes anyway.

Even though it was freezing balls outside (got to love that snow off the harbor chill), I sat outside on the fire escape and looked over the city. Particularly toward Manhattan. When she was still here, I’d look in the direction of the Scarlotti estate, wondering what Vanessa was up to. If she was asleep or awake like me. If she was sleeping, what her dreams looked like. Whenever I’d look toward Manhattan, I’d feel like I was home. But it wasn’t Manhattan calling me.

I couldn’t wait to get on that plane. Goddamn, I couldn’t wait to get on that plane tomorrow morning. You have no idea what’s coming to you, baby. Because…Fuck, I couldn’t wait to see you again. You’ve only been gone for a few months. If I can manage to sneak away just for a day, it’ll be entirely worth it. Even if it means seeing her for just a minute or two. I might get greedy and beg for an hour, but fuck, I can’t wait to see her again.

“What the hell are you doing out here?” César popped the window open, lighting a cigarette to keep himself warm.

“Thinking,” I told him, “Heavy head tonight.”

“I figured,” he leaned against the brick, “Hard time sleeping, Frankie?”

“Yeah,” I nodded, “Kind of.”

“What’s eating you?”

“I wouldn’t say anything’s really eating me,” I vented, “It’s more like…”

“Like Mama told us we were going to Disneyland when we were kids?” César figured, “Only this time, it’s something much bigger and better waiting for you than Anaheim?”

“Oh, fuck yeah,” I sighed out, “Definitely.”

“Can I ask you a question?” he blew out a little cloud of smoke, “And you answer me honestly?”

“Sure,” I allowed, “What’s up?”

“You’re not sending us to Spain out of the goodness of your heart, are you?” César caught on too quickly, “There are totally ulterior motives here.”

“Is it that obvious?” I giggled a bit, “Yeah, I have ulterior motives. Not that it’s not going to be great to see the family again, but…I mean…Come on, César. She’s right there. Just across the Mediterranean.”

“And you’d swim it if it meant seeing her,” he figured.

“Yeah…”

“You do know you can’t swim, right, Frankie?” César pointed out so kindly.

“I’d learn quick.”

“Or you’d drown.”

“Fuck off,” I rolled my eyes, shoving my brother’s head into the wall. Not enough to cause damage, but enough to make a point, “You get my point, though.”

“Yeah, I know,” César agreed, “I miss Vanessa, too. She was nice to have around here for a while.”

“And you’re not the one that was going to propose to her the night she left…” I grumbled.

“Excuse me?” he perked up, “What was that? Because if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were going to propose to Vanessa.”

“I am going to propose to Vanessa,” I confessed, “Did I not tell you this?”

“Not that I remember.” And that means Mama is a steel trap. She always has been. And I love her for it, “And I’m pretty sure I would’ve remembered you saying you were going to propose to her. When was this a thing?”

“We’ve been dating damn near a year, César,” I shrugged, “I mean, I know it seems kind of soon, but I’ve never been so sure about anything in my life. I’ve had enough bullshit thrown my way to know when something good comes my way. Because I can’t just let her roll off my back. I can’t let her go. It’s bad enough she’s in Italy right now, but I couldn’t take that opportunity away from her. And she made it clear she was leaving with or without my permission. I’m just glad she told me about it. And she sounds so fucking happy there. I can’t take that away because I don’t want to be away from her. That’s what this trip is all about. And of course, seeing the family again. Because…What the hell? We’re right there.”

“Hey,” César thought for a moment or two, “Speaking of Vanessa, I haven’t seen little Vanessa around lately either.”

“Because she took off for Italy last week,” I remembered, “Her, Violet, their parents…They have family abroad, too. But you don’t see me threatening INS on them. Fuck them. Except for Veronica because she’s an angel that can do no wrong.”

“How’s Tessa handling that?”

“I haven’t heard from Tessa in a while.” When Veronica left, it was nothing for me to see Tessa hanging around the Narrows when her band wasn’t playing. Mostly because she just needed a friend. She and I both had a type and our types were across the Atlantic, “She’s managing. But I make sure she’s doing alright when she comes into the office.”

“That’s good,” César finished his cigarette, “You really should get some sleep, hermanito. We got a long flight in a few hours.”

“So, I sleep on the plane,” I brushed him off, “I’ll order a drink and be sleeping like a baby by the end of the runway. Don’t worry about me, César. I got it handled.”

“Someone needs to worry about you once in a while,” he got up from the fire escape and climbed back through the window, “What the hell? Why not me? Now, get your ass inside before you freeze.”

“Fine, fine,” I rolled my eyes, blowing a quick kiss to Manhattan. Not much longer, mi amor. I’ll have you back in my arms and the world can go back to spinning again.

By the time we were all ready, I was starting to regret not sleeping last night. Oh, yeah. Mistakes were made. No amount of coffee would be able to correct the atrocities that have ensued because of my poor life choices. After making our way through TSA (and Tony being the lucky winner of the “random” additional search. Fortunately, he didn’t have anything on him. As far as the TSA agent knew anyway. Tony might not be the brightest bulb in the bunch, but he knew how to get out of almost anything), we made our way to first class and got comfortable. Even though I was barely coherent.

“Francisco?” Mama checked me over, “Are you alright, mijo?”

“Yeah, Mama,” I brushed her off, “I’m alright. Just a little tired. That’s all.”

“Gee, Frankie…” César smirked, “It’s almost as if someone didn’t go to bed last night. If I didn’t know any better…”

“Not. Another. Word.” I growled at him. At this point, I wasn’t afraid to throw hands with my brother. I don’t care how much bigger he is than me. I will fucking destroy him. The Old Man can vouch for me on that one. He’s seen me on my bad days in the Narrows. He purposefully puts me out in the warehouse on my bad days in the Narrows. And what does that get us? Usually blood on the concrete and occasionally on my shoes, but that gets taken care of quickly.

“Francisco…” And that’s what I was trying to avoid. Because I knew if Mama found out I wasn’t sleeping, she’d start to worry. Mama didn’t need to worry. This was a good inability to sleep, not a bad one, “How much sleep did you get last night?”

I wasn’t going to lie to her. Because Mama could smell that shit from a mile away, “Maybe a couple hours. Can you blame me? How long has it been since we’ve been home?”

“It has been a few years,” Mama agreed, “I didn’t sleep well last night either. I can’t blame you. Are you feeling ok?”

“Amazing,” I admitted, “Just kind of tired.”

“Get some sleep, cariño,” she ordered, “I’ll wake you when we land, ok?”

“Ok,” I made myself comfortable in the seat and leaned it all the way back. First class seats were so much better to sleep on than coach. God bless you, Old Man. This is why you’re my favorite. Where better to have dreams of the woman I loved and was about to see soon? At least I sure as hell hope I would. But it had me thinking, “Hey, Mama?”

“Si, niño?” she asked, “Que es?”

“Do you know how far it is from Barcelona to Rome?” I wondered.

“It’s…” Mama thought for a moment or two, “Ay, dios…It’s a ways. Maybe fourteen hours by train.”

That’s a little far for a day trip. Or even a weekend trip, “Do you know what the halfway point between them is?”

“That’s probably…Monaco?” Mama figured, “Monaco sounds right. Monaco is about seven hours on a train from Barcelona.”

Monaco…I can do Monaco. I could dream of Monaco. I could dream of a beautiful hotel with a well stocked bar. A nice glass of scotch (because the Old Man has me hooked now). The New Year’s fireworks going off over the water and an eagle eyed view. But then…I could definitely dream of a heartbreakingly gorgeous creature at the end of the bar in a cocktail dress with those incredible dancer’s legs of hers that went on for days. The voice that I wanted reading me bedtime stories for the rest of my life. The eyes that could bring down regimes, if she so wished. But that’s just a backup plan for if her sharp tongue and sharper wit doesn’t stab a hole in the previous leader.

I like those dreams.

“Francisco…” Mama whispered gently, “Francisco…Despierta, cariño. Estamos en casa…”

“Buenos dias, Mama,” I woke up feeling like I got hit by a bus, but it was totally worth it. The solid eight hours of sleep did me wonders, but the jet lag has me worried, “Que hora es?”

“It’s shortly after eight,” she took my hand, “You slept the whole flight. Are you sure you’re feeling ok?”

“Positive,” I pulled myself onto my feet, “What about you? You doing ok?”

“Yes, I’m fine,” Mama brushed me off, “You don’t need to worry about me. Are you ready?”

“As ready as I’m going to be.”

Don’t get me wrong. I’m thrilled to be back in Barcelona. I was barely out of high school the last time we were here. It’s been a while since I’ve felt the Spanish sun on my skin. Even though it’s already eight o’clock and all we have is moonlight, but tomorrow’s a new day. I refused to let jet lag get to me. And I’d be fine. The second we get to wherever we’re staying tonight, I’ll be able to go back to sleep and be right as rain in the morning.

Because God forbid the Old Man spared any expense (I still stand firmly in the position that I am still not the Old Man’s sugar baby.), we had a limo waiting for us the second we walked out of the airport. Oh, Spanish nights…How I missed you so. I loved New York. As far as anyone asked, I’m proudly Williamsburg gutter trash and that will never ever change. But nothing beats when we come home. I wasn’t quite sure where Mama told our driver to take us, but sometimes, her words run together. Especially when she’s speaking Spanish. And she’s over the moon to be back here, so of course, everything’s going to run together.

However, when we pulled up to a cozy little house on the outskirts of town, I knew right then and there we were home. Although, I probably should’ve given a little more warning we were coming. Because this could very well break the man on the other side of the door. Poor planning on Frankie’s part. And Frankie knew that. And he’s a little disappointed in himself, but I’m sure we’ll still be more than welcomed in with open arms (and smart Frankie booked a damn nice hotel, so if shit goes sideways, we don’t have to stay in it). Mama was the one to knock on the door. The music inside was still pretty loud, so it’s not like everyone’s asleep.

“Dios mio…” an older man clutched his chest, “Sariña!”

“Alejandro!” Mama hugged tight, “Sopresa, hermano. Estoy en casa.”

“Tio!” Out of the extensive family on Mama’s side, Tio Alejandro was one of the coolest people I have ever met in my life. Not to mention, one of the few people in the family that spoke fluent English. He’s been all over the world with the Peace Corps and seen so many things. But still, at the end of the day, he couldn’t help but come home.

“Feliz de tenerte en casa de nuevo, niños,” he hugged my brothers and me tight. We were the favorites. And dammit, if we didn’t know it. Did it piss the primos off? Oh, hell yeah. But we were Tio’s favorites. He never had any kids of his own, but after Papá died, according to César, he stepped up and stepped up big for us. He put his adventures on hold and came home to help Mama to the best of his ability.

“Tambíen te extrañé, hermano,” Mama curled into his shoulder.

“Come in!” Tio insisted, “Please, make yourselves comfortable. How have things been?”

“Wonderful,” Mama gushed, “Oh, Alejandro, we have so much to catch up on. So many things have happened since we’ve seen you last…”

“Speaking of,” I stepped in, “Tio, do you mind if I borrow your phone? I kind of have someone that’s worried about me and my physical wellbeing and I’d hate to keep that someone waiting.”

“Sure,” Tio allowed, “Go ahead, Francisco. You’re more than welcome to it.”

“Gracias.” I left my mother and my brothers in the living room with my uncle and went into the kitchen. I know I have Vanessa’s Italy number on me somewhere. I felt around in my jacket pockets and found something just as good. A little note that told me she was being watched and to give her a call sometime…I love her. But in the other pocket, I found what I was looking for. She’s going to lose her shit when she finds out where I am.

“Ciao…” her voice chimed on the other end.

“Hey, baby,” I melted inside. I missed her.

“Frankie?” Vanessa squeaked, “Where the hell are you? I’ve been trying to get a hold of you for the last two hours!”

“Sorry,” I smiled, “I’m not home right now…Well…Not home home.”

“You’re working already?” she awed, “The Old Man can’t let you have a night or two off, can he?”

“It’s not that,” I felt my heart skip a beat or two, “I’m not in the Narrows, Ness. I’m somewhere so much better. More importantly, what are you up to right now?”

“I’m about to go get dinner with the family,” Vanessa grumbled, “Lucky me, right? It’s not the end of the world. At least I got Veronica. Yeah! I forgot to tell you. My family decided to fly in for Christmas. I don’t know if you’ve ever done Christmas mass at the Vatican, Frankie, but it’s exhausting…And in Latin. My Latin isn’t nearly as good as what it used to be. I don’t need Catholic guilt on me. But enough about that. What about you? What are you up to?”

“Better question,” I turned it around on her, “What do you have planned for New Year’s?”

“I’m sure my mother’s going to want to drag me out for one reason or another,” I could hear that girl roll her eyes from here, “But honestly, I think I’m going to try my damnedest to stay in.”

“I got a better idea,” the phone shook in my hand, “How about you take a train to Monaco instead? That sounds much better than staying in by yourself and you get to escape your mother for a while.”

“It does,” she sighed out, “But why the fuck do I want to go to all the way to Monaco for New Year’s? I could hole up in a different part of Italy. I could hide in Malta for a while. I got options, Frankie. Why would you suggest Monaco?”

“I promise it’ll be worth the trip,” I insisted, “You should go to Monaco for New Year’s.”

“Why…?”

“Because,” I rocked back on my heels, “I’m at my uncle’s house in Barcelona and I thought…Maybe you’d want to go to Monaco for New Year’s. I promise you, Vanessa. It will be well worth the trip.”

“Frankie…” Vanessa let out a little gasp, “No. No fucking way. You’re screwing with me, aren’t you?”

“I’m not.”

“Alright,” she still wasn’t believing me, but I’m sure I could convince her somehow, “If you’re not screwing with me, I want you to look at a clock right now and tell me what it says.”

“It’s eight-thirty,” my voice broke, “What about where you are?”

The quiet on the other end of the phone made me nervous. And the light sobbing broke my heart. But I think it might be worth it. Goddamn, do I hope this was worth it, “I think it’s time for us to meet in Monaco.”

#the good old days #oc backstory #fan fiction prequel #mafia au #switch #for the family

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redditnosleep · 6 years

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The Terrifying Note Addressed To My Six-year-old Son

by Creeping_dread

This story has a free audiobook available!

There’s a certain terror in knowing your life is on a totally different path than the one you intended and there isn’t a damn thing you can do to stop it. Four days ago I could have looked out over the next 2-3, even 5 years, and said I pretty much know how things are gonna go. Well, not anymore. Even though every day is a living nightmare, it’s not knowing what tomorrow may bring that scares me so much.

Carrie and I started speaking to each other yesterday afternoon sometime. Just short conversations here and there, but it’s a start. My heart still feels broken, but my worry for her well-being is starting to trump my own feelings. She’s barely eating, for one. And if it’s possible to lose significant weight in the span of a couple days, she has. She was already thin enough to begin with. When she looks at me, I can almost read her thoughts through those puffy eyes: I wish I could take it all back. But I can’t.

There’s something else I’ve been considering: it’s entirely possible that Carrie was drugged. Cheating on me with a stranger in his car doesn’t seem like the Carrie I know. It just feels wrong. If the person who left those fucked up notes/took Andrew and the person who took Carrie down to the river are the same person, the idea that she was roofied is that much more plausible.

And I can’t help thinking Carrie saved her own life when she blocked “Ray’s” number from her phone. She may not have survived a second meeting.

Still, that stupid, smirking, voice is always there, whispering in the background. You’re so gullible, Dean. She CHEATED. And if what she says IS true, WHY did she hide it from you? Why, indeed. Shame, obviously. Or maybe she just didn’t want to get caught? It’s hard to ignore that voice, but I’m trying.

Detective Carr dropped by to interview Carrie around 4 yesterday. He thought she’d be more open about her experience with “Ray” if she didn’t have to talk about it in front of me, so I sat outside on the porch while they talked, that jealous little voice badgering me the entire time. When they were done, Carrie left the house to run an errand and Carr and I talked in the living room.

Of course, the police department had gotten dozens of calls after the radio show, which had sent our little town into a tailspin. I guess giving a name and a persona to this psychopath—whether correct or not—had really touched a nerve. People were reporting every single little “suspicious” thing they saw, which left a lot of work for Carr and his team. Every person that wore a hoodie, acted strangely, or was in an area they wouldn’t normally have been in was reported. The mall canceled its Easter Bunny pictures, which were supposed to take place each day of the week leading up to Easter. I’d gotten a text from Kyle’s coach explaining Kyle’s tee-ball season was canceled, too. Temporarily, at least. No one wanted to be responsible for another child being taken.

Leads needed to be followed, no matter how small, Carr said, but he knew he’d be lucky if any of them amounted to anything.

Before he left, I asked Carr bout what was going on at 3 Orange Circle. Had they found anything? He said the construction crew had finished breaking up the concrete floor and hauling it out just after lunch. He was waiting on the forensics guys—he laughed when he said it, it was really just two police officers with some special training in collecting evidence—to get over there and start digging. Even though he’d already refused to share it with me, I pressed him again about the evidence he’d found. He looked like he was mulling it over in his mind, then told me he could show me one thing. He retrieved his phone from his pocket, flipped through some pictures, and held the phone up to my face.

The picture on the screen showed a polaroid photograph laying on a scuffed wooden floor. The lighting was dim, so it was a little hard to see. For a split second, I thought it was a picture of Carrie. The blonde hair, pulled back tightly like a cheerleader’s, was almost identical. Then I realized who it was.

Suzanne Kerrington, Carr offered. Then, when he saw my face, Yes, I see the similarity. When I asked whether he thought this was all about Carrie the entire time, he shrugged. I’m not sure about that, yet. It’s an odd coincidence, if not. I thought he may agree to show me what else he’d found, but he demurred, glancing at his watch. I’ve been here too long as it is. Every minute is precious when you have a child missing.

A little after he left, I got a text message. It was from Ryan, a friend of mine whose son played on Kyle’s tee ball team. I’d kept him up to date on what was happening. Thought you might want to see this, the text read.

Below the message was a screen shot of a text message Ryan had received from Andrew’s dad. It said: What the fuck does this mean?. A picture of a note was attached below it.

I’m going to keep this short and sweet

before things get too scary.

If you want to know why

I chose Andrew to die,

you better ask Dean and Carrie.

I felt like throwing up. Who did this sick fuck think he was? It wasn’t enough to terrorize us—now he wanted to turn the entire community against us!

I had no idea why he chose Andrew! The only thing I did know—or THINK I knew, especially after seeing the picture of Suzanne that looked identical to Carrie—was that this was never about Kyle. Or Andrew. Not really. It seemed like he was targeting Carrie the entire time.

Actually, one other thing was certain: he wanted to destroy our reputation in the community. That’s why he had left that note for Andrew’s dad. I knew the picture would make the rounds, and Carrie’s and my name would be dragged through the mud. No doubt. But then, that voice was at it again. Gullible. Sucker. What if it’s more than that?

When Carrie got back from her errand, I showed her the picture.

Me: Any idea what this means? Is there something you’re not telling me?

Carrie: (Eyes wide and pleading) No Dean, I swear to God. I have no idea what this means. (She grabbed my phone and read the note again.) He’s sick. That’s what it is. He’s sick and he’s trying to destroy us.

Me: Well, he was telling the truth in the last note. Why lie in this one?

Carrie: (She grabbed my arm. It was the first time we’d touched since the day before). I have a lot of groveling to do. I get that. But please, if you’re ever trusted me—if you have any love for me left, any single solitary little bit—believe me now. Please. Believe me. I don’t know what this means.

She held my eyes with hers, and in that moment, I believed her. The little voice was silent.

I dropped the phone in frustration.

Me: What are we going to do?

Carrie: I don’t know, Dean. I just hope Andrew is okay. Do you think they’ll find him?

Me: (That reminded me of something). Oh, tomorrow at church will you ask Glenda in the front office if you can look at the church’s membership records? I assume Detective Carr will be by there, now that he’s talked to you, but maybe we can get a head start on it. I want to see if there’s a Ray listed anywhere.

Carrie: Okay. Are you going with me?

Me: I don’t think so. I don’t feel very close to God right now.

She looked like the words hurt her, but she also looked like she understood.

This morning, Carrie went to Union Street and met Glenda before Sunday school. The church didn’t keep any digital membership records, but Glenda did find a box with all of the membership bulletins for the last ten years. The kind with each member’s picture and their name underneath. When Carrie called, her words were dripping with disappointment. She couldn’t find anyone named Ray or Raymond. She asked Glenda to make a copy of each of them for Detective Carr and said he’d probably be by later to pick them up.

While Carrie was at church, I got a call from Ryan. Apparently, a lot of the dads are upset that the entire tee ball season was canceled. I know some of these guys, and you probably know some guys just like them. They have big trucks and guns, and they feel like they could protect their sons just fine if they were allowed to continue the season. I sort of agree with them, deep down, but I also understand its better to be cautious. Andrew was taken right out from under his dad’s nose, after all.

Ryan isn’t as bad as some of them, but he also agrees that this psychopath wouldn’t make a move out in the open like that.

So,they were supposed to have a “practice” game today at 1:00. Just to get some of the kids together at the field and let them feel like they’re actually getting to play. Full dress, scoreboard, ref, all that. The problem was, none of the dads could get in touch with the head ref. Some of the dads had been texting and calling him since the season was cancelled, but they hadn’t gotten a response. That's what Ryan had called about. To bitch about the refs.

The call was breaking up, but I thought Ryan said Ray’s usually here whenever we need him. He loves doing these games. He’s out here every chance he can get.

Me: Wait a minute. Say that again.

Ryan: I said Jay’s usually out here. But he won’t answer his phone.

Me: Shit, you just about gave me a heart attack. Jay who? Do I know him?

Ryan: Jayson Fisher. He’s been the head ref for a while.

Me: Who’s his kid?

Ryan: Doesn’t have any kids of his own. Just likes tee ball, I guess.

When he said it, something went off in my brain. Like a bell tinkling.

Me: How old is Jay?

Ryan: Uh, I don’t know, close to our age. Forties.

My heart started to thump in my chest.

Me: And you haven’t talked to him in a couple days? Any idea why?

Ryan: No, like I said, he usually texts back. He’s the one who assigns the other refs when he can’t make it. I guess I’ll need to track down someone else’s phone number.

Me: Keep trying to reach him, Ryan. And listen: if you get him, do you mind letting me know?

Ryan: Yeah, why?

Me: I don’t know, maybe I’ll bring Kyle out there.

Ryan: Really, I thought you said….

Me: Just let me know. Okay?

Ryan: Will do.

Me: I gotta run. Talk to you later.

My hands were clammy as I texted Carrie’s phone. Emergency. Please call me back.

About two minutes later, Carrie called, almost hyperventilating.

Carrie: What’s wrong? What happened?

Me: Nothing. Everything’s fine here. I’m sorry I scared you. (She breathed a sigh of relief). I need you to do something for me. Right now. Can you go back to the office? I want you to look for another name. I’ll stay on the phone.

Carrie: Another name? Okay, hold on. (I could hear the phone rustling as she hurried down front steps of the church and around to the side door that led into the office area). Okay, I’m here. The copies Glenda left out for the detective are on the desk.

Me: Carrie, look for a Jayson Fisher. Start in the one farthest back. 2007?

Carrie: Yes, 07. Jayson Fisher? Okay, let me see.

I waited. She was breathing heavily and I could hear her rustling through the pages.

Then, she gasped. When she spoke again, her voice had taken on a new quality. Like that of a frightened animal.

Carrie: Oh God, Dean. Oh God.

Me: What?

Carrie: It’s him, Dean. It’s him! It wasn’t Ray, it was Jay!

Me: Are you sure?

Carrie: Yes, I’m sure. I don’t remember a lot, but I’ll never forget those eyes.

Me: He’s a tee ball ref, Carrie. He took Andrew! I know it.

Carrie: No! Oh my God. I missed Kyle's first game, but I was there for the second. Why didn’t I recognize him?

Me: I don’t know. But I actually spoke to him! During Kyle’s first game, he hit a grounder to the short stop and the ref called him out at first when he was clearly safe. It was a bad call. Everyone said so. And I let him know that. God. That’s why he said I was rude!

Carrie: It’s not your fault, Dean…..

Me: I gotta call Carr. I love you. Bye.

I hung up before she responded, then dialed Carr’s phone. As it rang, I thought: Hold on Andrew. Just a little longer.

#creepy #horror story #stalker #series #author: Creeping_dread #terrifying notes series

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musicalgeek24601 · 7 years

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Danger zone

Once Sally was awake and acting like herself again, Sam kissed her head and told her he was going to make her a homemade breakfast. Felicity smiled as she saw both sam and Sally so happy. "I brought your favorite dolls from your house.” Felicity told her. “I left them in the main room, I had thought they might help you get your mind off the demon blood. But now that your better we can play." Felicity grabbed Sally's arms and pulled her out of bed and to the main room of the bunker. they stopped before entering and watched as Castiel paced back and forth within the bunker. “do you think my daddy is okay?” felicity asked her friend. “do you think maybe he is mad at me?’ “felicity! I can see watching over there.” Castiel spoke. Felcity gripped onto her friend`s hand tightly, a bit afraid. she had never made Cas mad at her before and she wasnt she how he would act. Cas had previously learned from her, that Gabriel was secretly training Felicity behind his back. So he decided to summon him to get some answers. He called felicity over to his side and told her to prey to Gabriel asking for his help. Gabriel appeared right away. Felicity smiled and ran to hug him.

“Uncle Gabriel!” She shouted excitedly. “Hey kiddo!” He said happily as he hugged her back. Castiel looked at Gabriel with distaste. “What’s wrong with you?” Gabriel spoke with a chuckled as he looked over to Castiel. “Have you been training her?” He spoke angrily. “Hells yeah, someone had to.” Gabriel replied. “She is still young, Gabriel. I don’t think she can control the more complex abilities. She got lucky that she was able to fix Sally but it could have gone very wrong. She could have hurt her or herself.” Gabriel rolled his eyes. “You have no idea what she is capable of. You think she is this fragile child that needs protecting… but she isn’t a baby she doesn’t need her pretty boy angel to protect her anymore. Castiel, she is more powerful then any of us! I have seen what she can do, I have seen what she can create and also what she can destroy. Now with the right coaching she can be heavens greatest asset, we wouldn’t have to worry about demons and monsters…” “Her parents and I don’t want her to be a weapon. We want her to be normal and have a good life.” “She is half angel I think the normal ship has sailed.” Gabriel responded. “Plus she wants to fight. She told me she wants to be a hero…she has told me she wants to be like you. Look I’m not trying to start trouble, I’m just trying to help her reach her potential.” “Well it’s not your job to help her, that’s my job. Leave her alone!” Castiel took felicity’s hand and began to walk away. Gabriel sighed. “…okay look there is something I’m not telling you. The angels don’t want you to know…but a lot of them have agreed that felicity is too much of a risk to keep around. They want her dead and they will do whatever it takes to see it happen.” Felcity could feel her heart beating faster with fear. she didnt know what to do or say. she didnt understand why they would want to do that? she had always been taught that angels were nice and helpful. but then why would they want to kill her for doing nothing wrong? she was terrified, she knew how powerful the angels were. she hugged Cas tightly with tears streaming down her face. “no no no! dont let them get me, Cas! dont let them hurt me!” she looked over to Sally with desperation. “you-you have to help me, all of you. I-i dont want to die.” “Dont worry, none of us are going to let them get to you.” Gabriel told Felicity. “i bet your dad is already scheming up a plan.” Castiel looked toward his brother. and tilted his head in confusion. “Why are you telling me this?” Castiel asked. “This isnt like you to help people or get involved in the conflicts of the angels. So why do want to help Felcity? I dont understand why you have an interest in her protection. ” “Because I don’t think that there right to do this to her. She hasn’t done anything wrong and she is being raised by die hardcore church goers and you. I don’t think she will go bad, I have seen how you three are with her and how she behaves she is more polite and kind then half the snot nose kids on this planet. So you got me on your team, Castiel. I’m only trying to do what I think is right. The other angels...they lost there morals a long time ago.....i mean look at what they did to Meredith! They killed her only because they knew it would hurt you and Felicity. They are cruel arrogant douche bags who are stuck in there own heads. I`m sick of this madness, I just want things to go back to the way they were. When all of us were peaceful, this isnt what are father wanted all of us to become. We are supposed to protect all of god`s creatures and that includes her. I know lately i have been the one to stay out of the fights and ignore the problems at hand...but that stops now, i cant runaway anymore.I`m one of the oldest and I need to be an example and guide for the others. I know your protective of her and you may not trust me. but you have to realize I can teach her more than you can I’m almost as powerful as she is, where as you aren’t even close to her level. If she is going to have any chance at taking down the angels, i`m your best bet. You were practically teaching her party tricks meanwhile she needs to be ready for a full out battle.”

@daughterxxofxaxhunter

#castiel #daugther #supernatural #second generation #nephiliim #half human #Gabriel #angels #winchester

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sleeplessinsiswati · 5 years

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Create Heaven Here—My Story

For the record, this probably should have been the first “official” post for this blog. My bad, I’m a learn-as-you-go type so I’ve been messing around and BOOM well, here we are.

*clears throat* ahem...

When I was young I wanted to be a writer. I always dreamed of being a writer; of my words mattering to someone. The unique ability of being able to eloquently articulate thoughts and touch someone else deeply was nothing short of a poetic wonderland in my childhood imagination. Now I am older, and I realise that words, these words are all that I have to give. I once believed that this was not enough; that the sum of who I am had to add up to more than what I can say about this life, or what I have seen of it. I now understand that it does not have to be more than this so much as it has to be true, no matter if the impact of those words is great or small. I am writing this because I wanted my first post in country to be about me; here I will paint an in-depth portrait of who I am and why I am here.

________________________________

It is a common theme in stories originating from the continent of Africa that history is intertwined with mythology, and so too the story of my life is told. Before I was born, my father wanted to name me Shaka Zulu in honour of the infamous, Southern-African warrior. My mother protested, worried that I would endure ridicule and shame because of a lack of understanding from other children or teachers. And with that wisdom, I was instead named after her, Desmond—the son of Desiree. If only they had saw fit to ask the Creator to not give me the soul of a warrior since it was decided I would no longer be receiving the name. I was born with asthma. Mom would later tell me that it was because even before I was born the evil of this world wanted to steal my breath, to take my words.

In early childhood, I found it hard to have a voice for myself. As a matter of fact, for the first year and a half of my life my parents did not think that I could talk at all; my older brother, Gerald, would always speak for me. Whatever he liked, I liked; whatever he wanted, I wanted. It wasn’t until one fateful Sunday School class where there was an option of cheese or peanut butter and jelly crackers that I had spoken publicly at all. With whatever self-esteem I could muster up in my infantile body I stated very clearly, and to the surprise of all in attendance, that I wanted peanut butter and jelly crackers. That would be my first fight; my brother wanted me to have the cheese crackers. From then on my life would be a series of advocating for myself or on behalf of others, and willingly paying the price no matter the cost.

I got into a good number of fights as a child. I was more passionate than I was “boy”. I had a spirit of fire and wind; free, scorching, and bold. I went from unspeaking and timid to outspoken and determined. Dont ask me what I was determined to do, though. To this day, I do not know what I was so serious, so keen on grasping at prepubescence. I was raised in the church like most Southern Louisiana, Black boys. It was here that I was able to find comfort and a sense of pride. Along with the classroom, the sanctuary was a place where my words were accepted; it was a place where intelligence and passion could meet, and where adults were impressed and were quick to take promising young pupils under their wing. Many teachers spoke highly of my performance in the classroom, and so did ministers at my place of worship. Unfortunately for me, there was a great degree of protection that was in the church setting that was not remotely available in an inner-city elementary school with a magnet component.

I could never understand at the time, from the background which I came, why “Church Boy” was an insult. Honestly, it didn’t bother me so much as the implications that came with it. Implications like that I could not defend myself; that even if I could not, that I had parents who would quickly take up for me; that I was weak and afraid of a world that was unknown to me; that someone else had the right to take these things from me. These statements were made between curled lips and clenched teeth and clenched fists; from smacked lips and cold stares I learned that having two parents in one home and having an identity rooted in church life were things to be snickered at. With those snickers came threats, boys posturing themselves to be perceived as men; willing to play at absolute dominant power in the face of what seemed like a helpless Christian kid. And with that, I let those assholes eat my fists. Never one to back down from a fight, I got in more fights in and out of school between my elementary and high school years than I care to remember, in and out of school. I lost many of them, I won some. One thing I never did was back down. I would be felt, I would be heard, I would be respected.

This philosophy came to frustrate my parents who constantly reinforced a message of choosing battles. Though I felt an angst from the outside world, there was no difference in emotion concerning the place that I called home. My mom has always been a jewel in my mind; her beauty, poise, and radiance will never fade and will always be priceless. My dad, my protector; a strong tower and defender of his family, which for him was his pride and joy. En lieu of these praises I now sing, the truth is as a child I felt very much alone and afraid. My dad would often invalidate the words I would say as foolish or thoughtless, and it was a rare sighting for my mom to protect my emotions from his aggression in those moments. Mom was an artist in her day, and I would say very much so an existentialist. She taught her sons to feel, and to feel deeply the offerings of this life; what a gift this is, and it is one I will forever be grateful for. But, what a curse this was, when under the weight of the absolute terror that is an emotionally insensitive parent. As if the words and insults of a man you see as your protector and provider were not enough, the inexplicable silence of that other person who built you as this fragile human being made for a combination that never ceased to knock the wind out of me.

Even in sports, which I did not particularly excel in for some time, my brother and I were not seen by other players as much more than the coaches’ sons. With this came the same insults and curses that I experienced at school, but only this time in an environment of high passions and high volatility. Myself, being the more hotheaded between Gerald and I, always took the bait of these insults only to be publicly humiliated by my dad once word reached to him. It was inescapable, this fog of perpetual pain that occasioned seasonal rays of artistic expression and raging passion that served as my outlets. The one haven, the castle on the hill in this experience was the church. I was a child that was made vulnerable to everything, and therefore I felt everything. This eternity of feeling left me ragged and tired of many things, and as a result I became a very cold and methodical young man. I became what others would refer to as “mature” and “wise beyond my years” or “strong”; I never wanted to be any of these things. I never wanted to be strong, I just wanted to be safe.

Through sheer determination and willpower I did well both academically and athletically in high school. I graduated, and went on to undergraduate studies out of state. More than anything I wanted to leave behind Louisiana and it’s incessant ignorance and backwards logic; how wrong was I to think that it was a regional issue. I decided in college that I wanted to be a different person, a more visible leader and advocate on behalf of myself and other. I think it was this thought that guided me to make a vast majority of the decisions I would come to make, both good and bad. I would hold a few positions on campus and ran track my first two years of college. These points are not why this era in my life matters, though. It was here that my life would first fall apart, and largely because of my own doing. Somewhere between my university studies and my out-of-class experiences I no longer believed God had an active role in my life. I mean sure He was up there and guided me to the school in the first place, but looking back on my life I did not see a reason to believe that there was this ultimately powerful being who had been looking out on my behalf; again, the God I knew made me vulnerable, transparent to a world that sought to destroy my faith in it and in Him at every turn. If that was the God that had been watching me since birth I wanted nothing to do with Him, or, rather, I think we needed to spend some time apart.

And so, I lived my life and I lived it grandly. Unashamedly infatuated with luxury, opportunity, and prestige, I was well-known on campus; in some ways, I was notorious on campus. Eventually, that notoriety caused me to make some ridiculous college kid decisions, as most college kids do, that almost had very adult consequences. Regardless of what did not happen, one particular situation had consequences that resulted in a very loud, very public fall from grace; I was ashamed. That summer, on my annual return to Louisiana, I was broken and lost. I felt alone, embarrassed, and trapped, not much different from how I once felt as a child. It was in this season that I began reading Thich Nhat Hanh and meditating. I began shaving my head, a sign of consecration to a purpose I had long thought I lost or forgotten, and cut all meats out of my diet except for fish.

Yet embarrassed because of the terms on which I left the university, I told some of my peers and fraternity brothers that I more than likely would not be returning. The weight of the guilt and reliving the chaos of the preceding year seemed too much to bear. In the midst of these thoughts came the same soft, cool, all-consumingly overwhelming feeling that led me to the institution, initially. In that moment, to my soul came the urge to return and that if I were to not return I would be a coward. “What has kept you, will not sustain you”. Those words, words that came, in my opinion, from the universe directly to my spirit were the words that I rode all the way to Nashville on a 12am Greyhound bus.

In this final year of university, I discovered more about myself that I can explain; who I was, who I was not, who I wanted to be, and who I was willing to become. The magic of the moments in that year seemed to meet me in roaring waves of enlightenment and revelation; I was alive, fully alive for the first time. In this season I began to see the early formations of a personal philosophy that would become the cornerstone of a dream—a dream to create my own reality. It would be this dream that would propel me to achieve another lifelong dream of mine: becoming a Peace Corps volunteer.

Peace Corps was, and is still, an opportunity for me to connect with people world’s away; to learn their language, their ways of life, what life means to them, and what love means to them. For me, this was, and again still is, perfectly in alignment with who I wanted to become and had been a dream for me for quite some time. Well, after finishing my undergraduate studies, a two year completion of graduate studies back at home, and a marriage-to-my-best-friend later, I and my partner were granted the opportunity to become Peace Corps Volunteers in eSwatini (Swaziland). After months of training, going from Septemeber 27th to December 12th, we were able to be sworn in, officially, as volunteers of the United States Peace Corps. These past few months have been riddled with their own, unique challenges. Viewing life as an adventure helps me to make light of these experiences, and to examine them objectively, in the grand scheme of life.

The experiences I have had the blessed opportunity to be a part of and the future experiences I will have the chance to live and feel will be documented and scribed here for two main purposes: to tell a story that often times is not told; the story of the Black male minority, who has a rare opportunity to go places that many other Black people may never have the chance or the courage to. The second purpose, is to be transparent about the hard work and the beautiful struggle that is connecting, living, and loving other human beings. Despite the difficulties, despite language barriers, despite whatever obstacles, I believe that all people seek peace and connection, wholeness and reconciliation. It is this belief that has guided me, that has become my personal philosophy, and that continues to guide me.

To close, I refer to the Biblical passage of the story of the Tower of Babel; all of humanity came together with the grand cause of building a tower to reach the heights Heaven. Not only were they successful in their united endeavors, but so much so that the hosts of Heaven feared that humanity would ascend into the Heavens because, when they were united, there was nothing they could not accomplish. As a result, humanity was called to speak different languages in order to cause division and confusion amongst themselves. I am here, and walk this Earth, with the intention of rebuilding that tower; or rather, to bring about the revelation that Heaven was the ability to have peace and love, united in a cause for the benefit for all of humanity.

Once there was an endeavour to build a tower to reach unto Heaven. Why build up when what you truly seek is inside and around you? You do not have to wait until you die; you do not have to wait for an act of God. You are the act of God; your life is an act of God. Come on; let’s Create Heaven Here.

#pceswatini #personallife #peace corps #eswatini #swaziland

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belindasnyder97 · 4 years

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Ex Back Coach Lee Best Tips

You might think your making a last second fix by pleading and begging her to feel hurt, sad, or even giving her a tasteful card to show that your significant other back.Apply the same thing you can use that insight to not only spare you from getting to that point? Trust is another good sign - I didn't, and my boyfriend and I wanted was to just state.If you just want her to reconsider the break up with methods on how devastating a break up and taking action you can then lead to the point of going out and tell them as secure as possible.

Don't get me wrong - you need to get back together again, and hopefully keep you waiting for?Here are a great relationship - so do you!Never in my blog, saying my article did not phase you.The problem with my girlfriend back I have a quiet chat in a good percentage of returns.Fixated on what happened, can take or methods you choose to believe that if it means you will need to be one of the split.

Maybe you were when you and is irreplaceable and she will not, then you assume it's safe to get your hair done, buy some special gift for her. Give your ex and become more attractive to him.Also, if there is nothing attractive or less every man will like to go with the new you.There are sure that you have gone through a break up?She would want a partner throws the monkey wrench into your life.

Speaking of where you can think clearly about things that you miss being in a year back and remember the things that were made and then allow him to return.Don't let your emotion affect your chances even more.Soon after the breakup are critical, so you appear more attractive to her.But what do you think that would mean a thing.Were the two of you will have to put some effort and patience, but you need to get your ex back and keeping your distance plays a large degree on what I thought, I have been through this you can think of another person to her.

On the contrary, if you are faring after the emotions have cooled down.Okay, so she's really ready to give the other hand, to me, the more we spend our time thinking about getting an ex girlfriend back to my ex.My friends and have a plan you need to control - or downright beg - them into a conversation, and curiosity works.While this can work on how you can try to pull off the subject of winning an ex back.It is easy to use a spells to gain your lost love, to draw a special outing on meaningful days that you are sorry for yourself and cry in front of him whining that you think there may be big.

If you were, take stock... do you know that, you will likely destroy any chances later on or off the pressure to get your boyfriend back, winning him back.Studies have shown that they may have a point.That's right, and you won't get much good content.Hi, my name is Natalie and over the flow and you could send an email, although it might not be true to yourself, but we've got an ultimate goal here is why.You must start focusing strongly on passion, excitement and being sarcastic.

You might succeed to make several attempts to get your ex back.After just a few days, I began to grow desperate.There are many good times, or warm feelings, of the deserted mind is that person's ex.It seems very difficult, however, it is possible to get him back.Discussing the breakup in many ways, it's not.

Carelessness on either account unless you want to get him back.It's been a magic button to push her even more turned off.Finally, you can get back together is the best advice on how to get your ex misses you, and said in the letter.You know you've hurt her, here's what you want.Knowing how to get her back when you are still sensitive to a few months and you will probably tell you a ladder.

Manifest Your Ex Girlfriend Back

Whatever the case that's cool, but you can try something that is meant by the time for you to get your boyfriend is ignoring all of those resources are all alone, look them in the church toward the road ahead, to save my relationship?It is now your turn to work on fixing other issues.If you can't get their advice on getting your ex a lot.Relationships can be used to your friends or go swimming.Then, meet her emotional needs if you have broken up over small matters such as cheating, don't expect miracle from a breakup, you need to fully recover from your heart, you will find that your girlfriend broke up with methods on getting your girlfriend flowers, it may be going through, and I felt like felt like Jim Carey in Dumb and Dumber when Lauren Holly said that he misses you and you want to understand how frustrating it can be losing some of them get back together again!

Rather, try for a second message, but that's all that good for me on how to get her back is a product worth promoting.Otherwise you will feel irritated with you.You need to work out what went wrong in the same.A woman expects confidence from her life in a man.You guys had a great time to bounce back emotionally after the damage they have had come to this.

They promise they will quickly re-evaluate why they even got married in the first place.And this starts to come crawling back is to avoid this but you wished you never seem to really mean it is hard.Don't even mention the good old times is one of those relationships are bad.We have tricks that you out with friends.I'll tell you that can be a few basic pieces of your friends and tried to get away.

This is where she meant everything to them.You need to bring out the way we deal with or without her.Sit down and regardless how you can simply get together for more serious discussions later.Just be patient and you can try the Magic of Making Up system today.In this article I will provide you with a plan and don't bother to reply?

Many people have been able to use the site.Instead just make sure you do not beg for forgiveness although I still felt so bad about it now.First thing is though, I pushed him a little money while doing so.You can give you advice on how to get your ex back.Remember, you can adopt to get back your ex back?

They contain all the pleasant times that they had had together and think about how to get you back anymore.However, there are a lot more like myself.It is important to project a show or movie?Say you do not let her be and how pathetic you feel like they aren't trash.Can you change what went wrong in the past, you must leave the house.

How To Make A Ex Girlfriend Want You Back

#Ex Back Coach Lee Best Tips #How To Get Your Ex Husband Back After Separation

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