Jealousy part 7

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6

Please ignore the unhige tags. 😌

09Soap/Ghost

Two grown man sharing a standart military bed, well thinks are geting very close. Soap tried several times to leave because General Shepard will chew his ass out if the paper work is not finished, but Simon had a death grip on him when ever Soap tryes to move just a inch to far or any inch. He also needed time to freak out about him fucking Ghost, he's so confused he needs to wrap his head around this. Eventually the steady breathing of Ghost lulled him in to sleep.

When Soap wakes up because of Simons alarm at 5 am, it's warm. Simon is still pressed against him looking peaceful. It feels terrifying domestic. Simon is slowly opening his eyes because of the alarm. He just deactivates the alarm and the burrys his face in to Soaps neck. A blush forming on his cheeks. "Morning", Soap just says to him with a smile on his face. "Morning." Simon answers, sounding like he's ready to just go back to sleep. "Go back to sleep, your off recruit duty today." Soap says while ready to leave the bed. "Stay?", Ghost ask unusual insecure. "Would like to, but General Shepard is calling in 2 hours and I still need to get some thinks done before, like reading the damm file." And Soap himself his shoked by the how much he wants to stay. Ghost makes some displeased sound but let's Soap get up. Ghost is watching him with one eye open ready to fall back to sleep at any moment. "See you later", Soap says before kissing Ghost on the cheek, who is making a pleased sound. A small smile is appearing on Ghost face before he closes his eye again returning to sleep, buring his face in the pillow and Soaps heart is trying to jump out of his ribcage. He's a Captain his time of sneacking out of others rooms back to his own should be over. When he is in his room he looks up at the wall over his bed the calander has today marked as heat have start. He's horrified remembering that he littered Ghosts neck and shoulders with bits and hickeys in the assumption nobody will see. And for the love of God, not even Ghost covers up in a British heat wave, and his shorts are short. Like really short as in just covering his ass. How is he gonna survive this now after he they had sex and him having these feelings? This is his punishment for sleeping with his subordinate and god he remebers telling Ghost about a next time. He would ask himself what he was thinking but he was not thinking in this moment. "The weather report can be wrong, the heat wave can just not start today or this weak or at all." He says to himself in a attempt to not freak out. He gets dressed in clean cloths and leaves to get a coffee before he wastes anymore time he don't have to finish this important file or atleast appear as if he did work on it. On the way from the barracks to the mess hall it's already disgusting warm, his shirt starting to syick to his back, this heat wave is hitting them with full force. He don't meet anybody while he grabs his coffee at 5:20 am and it's also nobody in the building with his office.

When Ghost wakes up the next time the first think he notices, he's sweating, its fucking hot and not in there is another body next to him way but in a heat wave is hitting Britain way. He looks at his alarm clock it being just 11 am and with the feeling if getting backed in his room slready this is the most sleep he will get. It's also not helping that he's blushing over the memory of Soap kissing his cheek he got because Soap needed to work and couldn't stay. And hes definitely feeling how Soap fucked him, sore in satisfying way. And he told Soap about a next time, god Soap really fucked his brain out. Why did he say that, he wants a next time but he didn't had to tell Soap that. Well he told Soap a lot of thinks he shouldn't had. He's burying his face in to the pillow that smells like Soap and breaths out heavily. When he pushes himself up on of his shoulders stinks and he rembers that, Soap bit him very hard. In general Soap did not hold back with marking him. He goes in the bathroom to see just how much Soap marked him. His mouth falls open, Soap tried to turn his neck and shoulders in to on giant bruise. Normally this would not be a problem, he's coverd like a victoriana lady 24/7 but in a heat wave? Everbody will see, everybody will know, everybody in the 141 will ask. A smirk is forming on Ghost face, oh will he get in trouble with MacTavish for this idea yes, will he likey get punished for this also yes. The question is just what the punishment will be and he thinks if he plays his cards right he will enjoy it. When he looks down he notice a hand print on his hip and he should not find this so hot. "Try to claim me Captain?", he ask his reflection. He goes back to his room searching his closet for the right clothes. He finds his favourite pair of shorts really easy, but he just can't find tank top he's looking for. He he finally finds it in the very back he smirks again. After a quick shower he puts both thinks on and is checking in the mirror if Soaps mark a perfectly seeable for everyone. The smirk gets even bigger when he sees that you can see the hand print when he has to lifts his arms up. Ghost looks at his smug smirking reflection and wispers a perfect to himself. He then covers up his outfit with a standart clean pair of military pants and jacket. Putting a medical face mask hin his jacket pocket before putting on his standart mask and sunglasses. Their is no way he will wear a full mask all day if it's already that warm.

Soap sees Ghost for the first time since the morning, while he's still in the meeting with Shepard, for 4 hours, and there is no way Ghost will survive wearing standart uniform in this heat wave. He already has his ventilator on because god today will be hot. He is just wearing a t-shirt but this already feels like to much and Ghost well don't really has a choice thanks to him. It also looks like he collected Riley, because the dog is following his owner dutifully. Riley walks up to Soap sniffing him acusetory, as if to ask why are you smelling like each other. Ghost comes in his office takes a bunch of his paper work and looking trough them. Making a pile of filles Soap assumes he will work on. Soap is thankful for this because he and Price try to do as less paperwork as they can get away with. Suplies forms and mission reports are probably the only think they file out on a regular bases. For some reason he has a suspicious feeling when he looks at Ghost outfit. He's beeing ridiculous Ghost would never parade hickys and marks, he's a very private person. Ghost gives him a not before leaving the office and for some reason Soap has the feeling he has a smug expression hidden under the mask.

Everything is working acordig to plan, Ghost thinks to himself while he puts the files on his empty desk. He not only is in a air conditioned building, but Soap now thinks he will try to be covered up. The first think he does in the office is replacing his face cover, revealing a good amount of Soaps marks. He also knows that the biggest administration gossip will walk in his office very soon. And she is spreading base gossip faster then light. Wich means that Gaz and Meat will be in his office before lunch, and they will hopefully make a comment about it to Soap. "Lieutenant Riley, I have some..", a female voice starts but then stops mid sentence. Ghost really needs to fight to keep a neutral face expression. "You have what?", he ask. "Some files for you to work on", Stacy Smiths, base gossip queen finishes her sentence. When she drops the files on his desk she can't keep a comment to herself. "Got lucky eh? Pretty wild think you got in the sheets." "Thanks." Ghost answers as uninterested as he can, while he really has to fight down a grin. Perfect, this is working absolutely perfect. "Well hope you enjoyed her", Stacy says before she leaves the office as fast as she can with out running. An evil grin is spreading a cross Ghost face. Phase 1 of his plan worked out perfectly.

Gaz nearly drops his phone after reading the text from Stacy. 'Lieutenant Riley god lucky with a lassy last night.' It states and this just can't be true. Ghost and Soap are dancing around each other for months now. He sends the recruits to an early lunch running in to Meat on the way to Ghost office. "You think it's true?", Gaz ask. "I gues he's not the kiss and tell person. Just said thanks for looking after Riley." Meat answers. "What are we using as cover?" "How Riley did on the mission." The two walk in to Ghost office and of course Stacy is right he got lucky last night. He's neck is littet with hickys. "Aren't you suppose to train the recruits?, Ghost ask them. "Sent them to an early lunch before the heat wave gets to much for out door training, Sir." Gaz answers. "And your going in to the admin building to get air conditioning or?" "We wanted to now how Riley did, Sir.", Meat spills out. "Perfectly, even when the smell of jungle was a bit much at first." They know that will likely the most information they get. So in an impulse desition Gaz ask: " will you help in hand to hand combat training, Sir?" And Ghost really has to think about it. He could, but he has enough paper work for most of the week on his desk. Also he's not sure how Soap will react if he pushes to far "Maybe later this week Sergeant Garrick." He just answers, letting the two pet ans spoil Riley with attention for a bit, before kicking them out of the office. "Let's see if the Captain will walk in here soon, Riley", he says to himself, getting rit of his jacket.

When Soaps sits down at the same table as Meat and Gaz, he has a very suspicious feeling. The two very suddenly stopped their conversation. "Spill.", Soaps nearly orders them. "Stacy told us that Ghost got lucky yesterday and he did.", Meat says carefully watching Soaps reaction. And only years of military training are keeping Soaps face from dropping. "Oh did he?" "Got fucking mauled by what Stacy assumes a woman", Gaz says. "Oh, good for him.", Soap trys to answer as neutral as possible. Meat and Gaz are looking at him like they are waiting for his jealousy to bubbel up. And it would if he didn't know 100% HE had sex with Ghost yesterday. While Soap take a bit out of his food Meat drops: "You think Ghost will shate her name if I ask?" Soap is choking on his food. Oh god, no, no Ghost will definitely not share a name. "You think Ghost is a kiss and tell type?", Soap conters, trying to act as normal as possible and hopeing they will think everything unusual is just his jealousy. "Well also never thought he would show of his sex life like this", Meat while shrugging his shoulders, Gaz is suspiciously silent watching every expression and move Soap makes. Gaz picks up some strange vibes from the Captain. A theory forming, but how to prove it? "Well not even Ghost wants to suffer in a heat wave other wise we would not know", Soap says off hand, like he don't care. "Mhm, so what if Stacy is wrong about the gender of the person slepped with?", Gaz ask out of the blue. "Who Ghost sleeps with in his of time free is non of our buisness, Gaz", Soap scolths him a bit more agressiv than needed. Gaz just raises his eye brow a knowing glint in his eyes. "Your right Captain", Gaz just says and starts eating again. When Meat is trying to say something again Gaz is kicking his leg. Soap has the feeling Gaz figured this mysterious sex partner of Ghost out. He can't say or do anything about it, just hoping nobody will believe him. The last think he needs now is Price lecturing about not having sex with subordinates. He's not sure who would be more embarrassed by it Price or him. After the three is leaving the mess, Gaz is dropping a bomb on Soap. "Can't wait for Ghost supervising the hand to hand combat training of the FNCs, they will learn a lot from him." He's fucked, thats it, he's done. He needs to talk with Ghost.

A littel bit later then expected Soap enters his office. He hastily closes the door. Ghost looks up from his papers. Forcing to not smirk at the Captain. Soaps jaw is dropped open a light blush creeping over his cheeks. The tanc top he's wearing is very skin tight showing of his muscular chest and showing his shoulders are in the same state as his neck. "So Gaz and Meat told the truth about you showing of", Soap simply states, when his brain is able to form words again. "Well somebody forgot that a heat wave is about to come, hardly a showing of if i don't want a heat stroke", Ghost just states. "Well didn't thought the first day would already be that hot, you would stop beeing a victoriana lady", Soap hisses stepping closer to Ghost desk. "You want me to show of? Then I can help with hand to hand combat training later", Ghost says with a smug expression on his face. "No", Soap growls jealousy running throw his veins, forcing Ghost to look him in his eyes by grabbing his chin. Nobody is allowed to see Ghost like this besides him. "I think they really would learn a lot from me", Ghost simply states a mischievous glint in his eyes. This should have told Soap that the bratty side of Ghost he saw yesterday is playing with him, trying to push his buttons to get what Ghost wants. "They will think your easy if you actually show of", Soap warns him. "They will learn its not that easy very fast", Ghost conters, knowing he won by the heated look in Soaps eyes he just needs to push a bit more. "Well I imagined you begging for my dick then." A blush is creeping over Ghost face but Soap will not silence him. "You say that like your sure I will do that again, Captain", he provoking Soap in to a impulsive desition. The grip on his chin is tightening. "Oh you will, Lieutenant. I fucked you so good you cried for me", Soap reminds him a proud and smug look on his face. "Well you will have to put more effort for the same results next time, just got lucky right after a mission", Ghost says to remove the look out of Soaps face. And this is when Soap catches on, what Ghost is doing. "Oh, I will, when Price is back we are taking a nice vacation together and I will make you cry in my sheets while fucking you." "Don't make claims you can't keep. Still not sure your even have the stamina to do this." "Oh I think you will strugel to keep up." "All talk no action again, Soap." But a very visible blush is covering all of Ghost face. "Don't think after yesterday you would be able to take my full stamina." Ghost eyes widen at this and his swallowing hard. "Try me", is the only think Ghost can come up with. Soap looks at him as if he's thinking about it before pulling Ghost out of his chair to wisper in his ear: "Yeah, want your desk fantasy finally come true, Simon?" Ghost is audible gasping at this having lose the control of the situation. "Answer me." "Yes, Sir." "My office 21:00. But don't whine when your can't sit tomorrow." With that Soap removes his hand from Ghost face and grabs his stupid balaclava from the desk before leaving the Office. Ghost just falls back in his chair face red as a tomato breathing heavily. A very confused Riley is resting his head on his legs looking with him his big brown eyes at him. Absently he is scratching Rileys ear, trying to figure out when he lost control over the situation.

DECLARATION OF LAWSUIT

Wed. Oct. 19, 2020 10:10am

THE PRESIDENT OF DEFENSE COUNCIL FOR THE STATE OF NEBRASKA IN 2009 TOLD ME THERE IS PLAUSIBLE CASE FOR A LAWSUIT HERE. “GET AN OUT OF STATE ATTORNEY AND SUE THEM. I DON’T WANT TO. I LIVE HERE. YOU WILL WIN.”

AT PRESENT, I HAVE NO WHERE-WITH-ALL TO GATHER THE REST OF THE NEEDED INFORMATION TO ADVANCE.

THERE IS A STUBBORN ENTITY THAT IS A DISCOURAGING NUISANCE. IT IS MAKING THE COMMUNICATIONS OF INTERAREA LIVING IMPOSSIBLE FOR ME TO COMPILE AND PRESENT ALL THE NEEDED CASE MATERIAL BEFORE THE PROPER MAGISTRATE.

THE FACTS ARE DEFINITIVE. THE DOCUMENTED CONTRACTS ARE FALSIFIED | NOT UNISON AND NOT NEAR THE CONTENT MEANING OF THE ORIGINAL.

IF: “ANY AND ALL ENTRIES BETWEEN MR.PASSERIN AND THE OFFICER—BETWEEN THE MOMENT HE WAS TOLD TO TALK TO THEM BY THE THIRD PARTY AND THE OFFICER AND THE START OF TRIAL—WERE CONSIDERED NULL AND VOID TO PROSECUTE ANYONE BUT HIMSELF”

● THERE WAS NO SLANDER

● NO CHARACTER DEFAMATION

● NO COOPERATING FURTHER WITH THE POLICE IN ANY REGARDS

IF THERE IS ANY INFORMATION OR PROF THEREOF THAT INDICATES OTHERWISE, THEN THE ABOVE TERMS HAVE NOT BEEN MET. THIS NEEDS ADDRESSED. NEBRASKA HAS BEEN CONTACTED. THE FEDERAL GOVERNMENT HAS BEEN CONTACTED. MONTGOMERY COUNTY DETECTIVES AND ATTORNEY HAVE NOT, THIS HAS BEEN DIFFICULT TO ADDRESS FOR SOME REASON.

NOT THE NEBRASKA POLICE FORCE, THE FEDERAL GOVERNMENT, THE PENNSYLVANIA POLICE FORCE, CALIFORNIA OF ANY OTHER ENTITY SHOULD BE ABLE TO HARRAS OR GIVE MR. PASSERIN GRIEF OVER THIS INCIDENT.

HAVE YOU OR ANYONE YOU KNOW BEEN AFFECTED BY THE ENCLOSED INFORMATION? ARE YOU OR ANYONE YOU KNOW ABLE OR WILLING TO PARTICIPATE IN A LAWSUIT?

REGARDS,

JASON PASSERIN

In 1999 I started a landscaping company. I did alright with it. About three years before I learned how to bid jobs and get permits, fuel prices went up and I took three big losses. Standing at a fuel pump at a Hess station, the price was $2.84 and rising strong. It was then that I decided to write termination letters to my customers and close down to narrow down the field of work I offered.

California’s atmosphere was nice at first, though it was a disaster from the start. It is not as friendly as it feels nice to be there. Soon the nice feeling wore off and was replaced with a sort of violent ignorance. The opposite of selflessness was replaced with stubborn possession. The wrong mood. The wrong atmosphere. There is some more in my post script.

Since then I moved here, back to California and then here again. Before my recent arrival here, I had been incarcerated at Pleasant Valley. During all the chaos during 2013 I was pulled over with a loaded pistol while on probation. At that moment I was waiting to find my ex-landlord to return it to. Living off the grid most of the time without something to scare away the animals was not a good idea. I had almost been eaten on more than one account.

In California in 2006, my first job was to clear a plot of land to the land owners request and install a fence. One rainy morning I was packing the truck. I felt something in the wind that told me to bring my rifle or I would be eaten alive. The rifle would have been one more heavy item on top of the materials that I would then have to pack to the site in the rain when I got there, so I left it. Soon after we started on the fence line a guest appeared.

A very large mountain cat, crouched and stalking to pounce about ten yards away helped me make my mind up. If ever I leave the pavement with no other way of warding off animals, I would never leave a firearm behind again.

When I returned to Eureka from Pleasant Valley, I had three years on probation. Most of which I stayed in the city limits so as not to wander off and lose track of time. I was able to stay in a somewhat nice halfway home for a few months with my rent paid by probation. It was not easy to find work, even with my resume. People would look at it and say I would hire you, but I can’t. So I spent the rest of the time homeless and left as soon as I was allowed.

If the court house does not open, I won’t be able to pass a background check. I have a failure to appear that was not cleared up before the Coronavirus closed everything. Not being able to pass a background check, I can’t get a job.

My mother was struggling with her home and I wanted to see if I could help her. I got a loan for her to keep and repair the house, but she turned it down. It would have left enough afterwards to make the payments for a year or two without being out of pocket. It then could have been placed up for sale at full value. She must not have been that bad off.

The entire year of 2012 to 2013 I was being threatened, my mother’s life was being threatened. Seemed like a phone hacker with an impressive PA system and forgist impersonator. Many threats along the lines of “We are going to kill your mother. We have impostered her long enough to have taken most of her finances. She will lose her home. Angel has cut her finger off that had her mom’s ring is on while she lay dead in the mourg and is flaunting it around, call her and see.”

I called her to see. Mom said she would send me the ring in question. That was odd. It was a family heirloom to her. She would not take it off her hand let alone put it in the mail. Right away I thought it was not my mother on the other end of the phone. A ring arrived. It was not the ring from the conversation. It looked like trouble. I threw it away over my shoulder in the cabin I stood in that moment and did not look back. At that moment I figured her for the imposter. The imposter that I and she had been threatened with that year.

Somewhere I heard this ring was stolen. There was a lot of “stolen jewelry” turning up around there. Some of the same jewelry that hung around the neck of my grandmother I used to teeth on as a young person, from my mother’s jewelry box. 24k Italian gold locket, two necklaces, both with my teeth marks still in them. I kept those in my property. When I got to my property to look, they had been replaced with something different.

(Remember .... told me that some “stank hoe” was sizing up your jewelry with ...... and jumped out your bedroom window with some of it. You were not the only one. Later that year I showed up at your place to show you a bunch of jewelry to look through to see if you could identify any of it. I found five pieces of my grandmother’s jewelry from my mom’s collection in it. My favorite pieces. Last seen next to a safe that went missing with $120,000.00 in it. Soon after, I returned the stuff to question all the residents at the same time.)

I am learning to type and am optimistic that the computer may be a field of study for me in the future. That is good considering my health is not always going to be the best.

My life has not been near what I am used to. I was counting the days to get here to clean and remove any and all trace evidence of 2012 to 2013. The most offensive and uninteresting years of my life. I still feel victimized from it. Not ever do I desire to live like that again. People, places and things, my work is laid out before me. Everything I laid on, laid with someone on, and or wore all had to get thrown out. I even ripped up the carpet and scrubbed the walls. If I could have ripped out the drywall just in case, I would have. Then put all of it in a pile and set it on fire.

I have heard rumors out here that when I got arrested in Nebraska the police and some unnamed female of Paul Hume or with P. Hume ID did not follow their word. Looking through my old files I found enough plausible documentation to present a lawsuit towards Kearney & Lincoln County Nebraska.

Before I left California in 07’ my neighbor Kim from Swayback told me: “You are going to get pulled over. Just do as they tell you when they reach out to you and you won’t lose anything. You might not go to jail.”

Entering a construction zone near Kearney Ne., I almost get run off the road by an older sedan going ten miles over the speed limit with something leering from the taillights. Ahead of this were two state troopers. As the sedan approached the construction zone the state troopers noted it was speeding. I saw the one start his car and put it in drive. He did not take his eyes off the car, until it cut me off, depressed the brake, the brake-lights came on and the leer from the taillights reached my rental truck. It was odd at that moment since I was not speeding that they took their focus off them to look at me. The officer would not break eye contact from me from that moment forward.

They pulled me over. Standing in front of Officer Frye 8795 or 8973 I noticed he heard the same thing I heard. He says: “Just do as that female told you. Make something up. I won’t hold you or anyone to it. I will honor what that female is telling you and let you go in five minutes.” The moment he acknowledged the female Paul Hume’s voice, he acknowledged taking part in an orchestrated, organized crime act—Not what I ever wanted for myself in any regards.

The female sounded off a lot. I have never heard anything like that before. So clear and direct. Like a laser beam. I heard her say “Lie, make something up, be creative. They won’t hold you to it. Just keep them talking for ten minutes and they will let you go. I need cover for...” It became a little difficult to hear the rest: “We are sanctioned to... Please ignore... We do this all the time...” I never heard any speech of communication without seeing someone’s lips move.

The officer was not all the way honest about his intentions. However, in my paperwork appeared “Any and all information obtained is null and void at possible fault of yours and becomes useless except against you only if you stop cooperating, run or turn yourself in. You may face a stronger penalty” (I have seen in my hand at one time, four duplicates of this document. None of them are the same in content). I knew how to manage this situation at this moment. Just run up their expenses and man hours, then burn them leaving them an inept non-witness with nothing to use towards anyone but me, as described.

Nothing I said or did between my arrest and start of trial was valid in any court of law. Somewhere that seems not to be so to someone. Perhaps a criminal, a cop or both that can not decide which to make of their involvement, an arrest, a cover up or both. There is a leek of faulted information. There is a third party that was using every bit of my actions as research on something that I don’t want to declare; separation of...names, street names, people, tunnels, bridges, it all is relevant.

In my papers was a close, not accurate version of that paper. None of the copies of that document were exact in wording of content, not even close. It did not contain what my original contained. I highlighted the areas of error and had it notarized. Then sent it to the county attorney in Lincoln Ne., with my informal notice of intent to bring suit. Failure to supply unison copied documentation, failure to follow their own stipulations, and slander. The Head of the Defense Council at the time, my attorney, told me there was a lawsuit here, but to find an out of state attorney he had had to live there. I did not follow through for suing Nebraska for the time served after my exonerated sentence.

There was a lawsuit in the Puget Sound for $19 million against the Fed. I think this one is worth $21-29 MILLION for some reason—similarities. If all the people involved were not so interested in harming each other. I would have already had some progress.

Regards,

JASON PASSERIN

P.S. This is a postscript I sent to Cynthia, my neighbor and one of the first persons I met upon my arrival in Mad River, Ca.

P.S. Do you remember in June of 07’ on a Sunday afternoon? You and Greg pulled up in the Suburban. Woody and I were outside loading the truck. It sounded like a gunshot. Then something like a mountain lion—almost but not—crying in the distance. Almost two full months in August I was forced off the road leaving the rodeo. I woke up part way with Joe over me holding a bottle of Lord Calvert as if he were pouring it down my throat; eyewitness told me similar. One week later a boxer and his three female companions ran off the road in the same spot. I think they hit the lake instead of the tree like Danielle, Kim and I. I started to feel an unnatural closeness to him and someone’s mom that week. Those woods out there can be strange. Take care out there. It is good to know you both. Thanks for the hospitality.

I used to live in Ohio. An at one time friend came to my home when I was not there. Asked me to do something that I should not have. I heard in his voice “bad news” and I ignored it. I lost my house that week. That was in 99’. I don’t think I have seen him much if at all since. Don’t very much want to. Last I considered him my friend. About a year before that I got pulled over with him in the back seat of my car, sounding off to something that I believe attracted the police.

I used to get cut on in my sleep in that house in Ohio. In between 98’-07’ I can’t total the number of people with the same ID that have cut on me. It was bad news. (What do you think they were taking and how did this victimize me) Many of the people, that I haven’t mentioned their name, use the same name inside, even when they don’t say it. He uses that name outside. That’s how he would introduce himself. Stinks to be him. Huh? *Subconscious impressions made with every slice*

a letter to my younger self...

Dear Gia,

Here are some things that have changed...

- your last name

- people call you G now

- you don’t hate the name Gianna anymore

- you get your braces off and change schools

Ages 1-7 ish are a blur. You hear stories about these ages though, so it makes up for it. You wore princess things and were the most sassy person ever. You still were playing with toys and still had tea parties with you’re stuffed animals. You wore tiaras and dresses with the plastic slippers. You called those “click-clacks”... you have such an innocent soul and your eyes sparkled soooo bright.

Here are some things you should do differently:

- don’t give mom a hard time. she had been through so much... you will find out later on in life. she is so strong and her spirits have been broken. build them up.

- don’t exclude that girl on the playground who always wants to hang with you

- stop saying things without thinking

- don’t be so mean to your sister

You don’t know it yet, but you do so many odd little things like collecting pretty price tags from jeans, collecting “pretty” trash, keeping everything and everything had to be your way (in your room of course). You will get tested and the doctors will tell mom that you have OCD (Obessive Complusive Disorder), ADHD (Attention deficient/ hyperactivity Disorder), and anxiety. Gia, please understand that you are nothing like your biological father and you can’t help your own genes.

Your biological father broke Liv, Tony, and mom. You are not him. You can’t blame yourself for him being an awful person.

When you grow up, you will get adopted by your step-dad. His name is Ray, you will love him so much more than you will ever love your biological father. He has two kids of his own; Hannah & Kelsey. Hannah is a ray of sunshine and has really pretty beach waves. She draws like no one else and lives in her own little world. She sticks up for you constantly and will never turn her back. Be nicer to her and love her more. Kelsey, you don’t see often when you get older, because she goes to school and is always somewhere. She is super sweet though. You see them 3 times a week, unless the schedule is weird. Anyway, dad will adopt you and you will be a Smith officially after a total of 3 years & 30 days of waiting.

Moving on... Liv is your half sister along with your half brother Tony. They share the same father. They don’t talk to him either but that’s not my place... but it’s all good! Tony is out in California making his dreams come true. He graduated collage from SCAD and got his dream job. He is so successful already and is one of the biggest reasons you are who you are today. Liv is an artist and does amazing calligraphy and makeup on herself. She is still finding herself. (Liv & Kels are 18, Tony is 21, and Hannah is 12)...

Mom. Mom is your world. She is the strongest person you will ever meet Gia. She has shaped you into you. She has managed to raise 3 children through the toughest situations. She is an inspiration and don’t you dare take her for granted. She is your #1 fan always.

Fast forward.... we moved in with dad (Ray) and dad & mom got married! You start a new school called: Hickory Flat. Years 3rd- 6th were spent here. Life was great. 6th grade was the downfall. I can not stress this enough Gia... what happened to you, the names and constant drama was not your fault. You did not deserve to come home everyday crying. You were a kid and no kid should have to be scared to go to school, fearing what would happen that day. You were torn down by words, rumors, others, and eventually yourself. You developed depression and isolated yourself from everyone. Music was your best friend. Your room was your safe spot. Your bed was your go-to. You no longer smiled about things and the sparkle in your eyes left. You didn’t want to do anything, and you no longer were excited about things. You got tested again for other things and they found something.

Aspergers. A neurological form of Autism that makes people isolate themselves and makes the person have a hard time communicating. They have a hard time having healthy relationships. You say things a lot that you don’t mean, but come out. This is why. Fortunately you are high-functioning. You don’t tell a lot of people about this. People are so cruel and think they know everything. So, you stopped trying to tell people. They think they know everything so everyone says the same things.

“No you don’t”

“ But... you don’t look autistic”

“ But you can talk to people just fine”

“ You don’t say things that are autistic”

The doctors found this out when you are 10. You don’t believe it for a while, you thought the same thing as everyone else. You cried all night, thinking you have the label as an “Autistic”. You didn’t know about it, so you judged it. I still remember crying. You also learned that high-functioning people don’t show signs of it like low-functioning people. You just have a hard time with relationships and controlling what you say. It’s not that bad.

Anyway, mom let you transfer to

Freedom Middle... you knew 3 girls here already. They made you feel so welcomed and life was good. You smiled again and laughed and were surrounded by love & joy. Unfortunately, you were in a situation where you thought that if you didn’t do something people would hate you. In this case, it was the opposite, hitting the send button ruined you. You were hated on and for a while you didn’t care what your self image looked like or what people thought about you. You just kind of gave up.

8th grade: (now)

You have completely changed. You have learned to love yourself. You stopped breaking down your self confidence and started building it. You have good friends & family. You have constant support. The real people... the ones who stuck with you even when you made stupid choices. You can’t make everyone like you G. Stop trying to make everyone like you. It’s not your fault they won’t give you a new chance. They won’t know you ever until they do. They listen to rumors because that’s how people work. Fortunately , you have a lot of good friends. You are okay. You are happy & recreating your self. I couldn’t be prouder to say: I have made it to the point where I love myself. My weight. My height. My scar. My thighs. My stomach. I’m okay. I’m happy.

I am a new person. G, life sucks sometimes, but it’s only to make you stronger.

One of the biggest reasons you changed is because you get a lot closer to God. He has shaped a new you. Never lose sight of you’re faith. Stop tearing yourself down. Love others and yourself.

Have faith and know you are forgiven. Walk more. Sing with your best friends or alone. Dance in the rain. Take pictures of life. Live in the moment. Draw. Write. Read. Laugh. Cry. WORSHIP. Stay strong G.

Forever and always... your older self

I love you. Stay You. 🌟💛

Never lose sight of your faith, family, and friends. They have your back.

Love- G 🌿🌙🌟🍵

P.S. To everyone who got this far & actually read it. Thank you. This is hard for me to let out, but I want people to know, YOU can do this. You can make it past any obstacle. Keep living & loving. 💛

All my love and support goes out to you guys. I’m here if you need me, dm me if you ever need to. - G 🌙

Disconnected (chapter 1)

This is the dystopian surveillance state AU that my professor asked for.

Michael is used to living in a world where every move is watched and every conversation recorded. It's always been an annoyance he has to deal with in order to maintain safety and order, but growing protests and increased government suspicion have everyone looking over their shoulder. When people start to go missing, gone from all databases without a trace, he might have to reevaluate just what price he's willing to pay for security.

Read on AO3

Michael wakes up slowly, blinking in the morning sun because he forgot to close the curtains last night after he finally finished with his coding project.  Calum was already snoring by the time he got into bed, but he’s always been a bit less of a night owl.  He hadn’t even woken up when Michael slipped under the covers and curled himself around him, pressing his cold toes to Calum’s calves.

Michael tilts his head to check on him and finds Calum already awake, eyes tracking the stucco patterns in their ceiling.

“Morning,” Michael says.  “How long have you been awake?”

Calum turns to him and smiles, the private one that he only ever shows to Michael in moments like this, soft and sleep-warm.  Michael loves having something just for them.

He glances over at the webcam still set up on his desktop and amends that thought: Michael loves having something just for them and whatever random government agent may or may not be processing this footage.

“Not long,” Calum says, pulling him out of his thoughts.  “It’s a lazy day today.”

Michael is already planning all of the ways they can fully capitalize on this when their front door slams shut.

“Hello?” a voice calls, and Michael hides his groan in Calum’s chest.  A second later one knock sounds at their door before it’s opened.

“Every day I regret programming you into the facial recognition for the front door,” Michael says.  “What if we had been naked?”

“Nothing I haven’t seen before,” Luke replies.  Michael hates that he’s right, because during college Calum liked to get naked at every available opportunity and Luke acts like closed doors are invitations.  “Why are you guys still in bed?  It’s 10:30 already.”

“Lazy day,” Calum says.

“Sorry,” Luke replies, not sounding sorry at all.  “Since I’m here anyway, does anyone want eggs?”

“No,” Calum groans.  “No eggs near the microwave!”

“That was one time years ago and I really think--”

“Do you want me to make you an omelette or not?” Calum asks, and that shuts Luke right up.  No one makes omelettes quite like Calum does, not even Ashton, who has single-handedly saved Luke from starving since he got sick of third-wheeling and they got sick of not having their own place.

Apparently Calum is feeling particularly generous, because he gets up and Michael immediately mourns the loss of his heat and their lazy morning.  Calum bends down to press a kiss to his forehead, then starts towards the kitchen.

“I hate you,” Michael says.  “I can’t wait until Ashton gets back and you can be his problem instead so I can cuddle Calum in peace.”

“You love me,” Luke retorts.  Michael flips him off and doesn’t bother to check if he’s rolling his eyes or not.

“Come on,” he says.  “You know Calum will make you one first if you actually get up.”

“Why are you so chipper?” he complains when Luke tosses back the covers.

“Because Ashton gets back today,” he says.

“You going to tell him about your big fat crush on him finally?” he asks, getting up and starting to head towards the delicious smells coming from the kitchen.

“Don’t say stuff like that!  I’m going to start getting ads for flowers on my phone again and he’s going to be suspicious about what we’ve been discussing!”

“Luke has a crush!  Luke is in love!  Luke wants to look at engagement rings and wedding venues and expensive honeymoons in Bali!”

“Well, we all know that,” Calum says, not glancing up from the stove.

“You guys suck!  I’m going to have to hide my phone screen from her for the next two weeks!”

“Hazards of the surveillance state,” Michael says, but his gut twists up a bit at the words.  He knows that the constant voice recordings and video tapes are to keep everyone safe and secure, but sometimes he wonders what it would be like to be able to talk to Luke openly about his feelings without knowing that there’s always some computer collecting key words they say.

“What time does he get back in?” Calum asks.  Luke takes a seat at the island next to Michael and he pulls out his phone, checking notifications while Luke reviews the itinerary of the art festival Ashton’s been in New York prepping for and attending.  He has a new email from his boss and a few promos from various websites that he discards, then he scrolls mindlessly through social media, bypassing government updates from President Ellison, random celebrity thoughts, and a few pointless posts from people he knows in real life until Calum puts an omelette in front of him.

Luke spends the rest of the morning with them and part of the afternoon, until Calum reminds him that he probably should do the cleaning before Ashton gets home.

“I’m going to change the facial recognition on the front door,” Michael says as soon as Luke leaves.

“No you’re not,” Calum replies.  “It’ll be too inconvenient the next time we go on vacation and need him to water the plants.”

“I wish we still had physical keys, like in the olden days.  Then I could just take his back now and give it to him when we need him to house-sit.”

“You’d lose your key within the first week,” Calum says.  Michael resents that.  He wasn’t the most organized person when they first met, but they were 8 years old then and marriage has changed him.  He tells Calum as much and just gets laughed at in response.

They decide to go get ice cream for dinner, because Calum has a goal to always get Michael out of the house on the days when he can afford to be separated from his projects and Michael is still pouting about not getting to stay in bed all day.  The weather is cool, but not too cold, and Michael relishes getting to link his fingers with Calum’s and just exist together.  They’ve been together for years and it’s been a few months since the wedding, but he doesn’t think they’ll ever leave the honeymoon period.

The walk is pleasant right up until they turn onto the main street.  Calum pulls him up short at the massive crowd they can see blocking the road a block and a half away.

“It’s another protest,” Michael says dumbly.  It must have just started, because there’s no police yet, but it’s huge.  Michael heard whispers about unrest in some of the larger cities, but the news never covers it, and it’s mostly brief posts on social media that get taken down within minutes, screenshots circulating and the occasional video trying to press forward before the government catches up to those too.

For a moment, Michael is glad that Ashton’s still out of town for a few more hours.  The last time a picture of one of these ended up on his timeline, there had been someone with Ashton’s black hair and one of his old bandanas covering their face, sunglasses that looked suspiciously like a pair of his that had gone missing perched over his eyes.

“Back home,” Calum says, turning around and pulling him forcibly when his feet don’t catch up as quickly.  “We’ll order in.”

He hears Calum’s unspoken we don’t want to be caught anywhere near this.  Michael isn’t dumb: he knows a bit better than most what type of information private corporations have access to due to his job, and he imagines the government would be much further reaching.  Even if they’re not participating in the protest, phone data could possibly put them at the scene, and they can’t risk that.

He knows that the protests are against some of the newer surveillance technology, the recent conquests in Africa, and President Ellison’s 4th term.  Rumors are that the voting was rigged in the local elections, and that journalists and public opposers have been going missing.  He doesn’t know what group is organizing them, or how they get the word out.  He’s too scared to try and find out.

Calum would never let him, anyway.  His self-preservation skills have always been the best out of all their friends.  Luke and Michael lack common sense and Ashton doesn’t value personal safety as much as he values standing up for his beliefs and having a good time.

The walk home is silent, and Michael desperately wants to ask Calum what he’s thinking but knows that it’s not safe with their phones in their pockets and cameras all around.  At the house, Calum orders for them both without another word, and once the delivery gets there they eat in near-silence.  Calum sends him glances here and there, because normally Michael doesn’t like too much silence when there’s tension, but he doesn’t know what he can say.

“Want to watch a movie?” Calum eventually asks.  Michael nods, knowing that he’s going to zone out almost immediately.  He can’t stop seeing the footage of the police breaking up protests that had landed across his timeline, the flash of black hair and bandana that could have been Ashton but that he hopes wasn’t.

They don’t even get the movie started before Luke opens the door.

“Guys?” he asks.  Michael looks at turns to him and frowns.  His eyes are wide, a slight tremor in his hands.  He hasn’t seen him look this freaked in years.

“What’s wrong?” Calum asks.  Michael is immediately on his feet, pulling Luke further into the room and grabbing his hands.  They’re ice cold, and he starts rubbing them between his own to try and warm them up.

“Don’t--I’m not crazy, okay?”

“Of course not,” he soothes.  Calum joins them, wrapping one arm around his shoulders.

“Okay.  I just--I have a roommate, right?  You’ve both met her?”

Michael freezes.  Calum glances at him, then turns back to Luke.

“I think he’s a bit more than just a roommate,” he says, but the joke falls flat.  Luke’s face screws up and Michael starts to panic a bit, because that’s the face he usually makes right before he starts to cry.

“Then why is my name the only one on the lease?” he asks.

“What do you mean?”

“I checked.  I never got a message telling me to pick him up at the airport, and when I checked my phone I couldn’t find any of our old messages or his contact.  I can’t find his social media.  I tried to pull up his art site and it wasn’t there.  I even checked our lease but my name is the only one on it.”

Michael remembers the black hair, the bandana.  Ashton isn’t an idiot, but his judgement gets cloudy when he’s passionate.

He pulls out his phone and scrolls to their group chat, only it just contains the three of them now.  He can’t find the message he sent him asking whether he thought Luke would like the necklace he bought him in New York, and in a spike of panic he checks his phone photos, now suspiciously absent of their selfies and hiking trips he makes them all go on and the sneaky pictures Michael’s been taking of him and Luke since last year in preparation for an eventual wedding gift.  It’s like Ashton has disappeared off the face of the Earth.

He glances over at his own wedding picture, one of the only physical prints in the house.  He and Calum are beaming in the middle with the best men at their sides.  Ashton stands next to Calum, smiling wide enough to show his dimples.

“It’s okay,” Calum says, even though it isn’t.  Luke lets out a choked sob.  Michael thinks about the protest they saw earlier that day and wonders how many of those people will disappear next.