#(it is only afterwards that I notice there's an option to close one's card TEMPORARILY in my mobile bank app...)

[papermonkeyism]

HI ok I gotta ask - your post has made me insanely curious - you mention having cash at hand while waiting for your new card (resourceful) but none of the sources of cash was a bank or ATM.

Where I'm from cash is still used a lot (as we minimum wage workers get paid in cash) and as a result there are multiple ATM's within walking distance at all times and banks no more than 15-20 minutes drive away. Is this... different where you're from? (For context I'm from Africa)

We get paychecks directly to the bank account here, and I usually just pay with my card everywhere I need to, because it's more convenient than having a lot of coins and bills around. While there are ATM machines here (there are several within a walking distance from where I live), you use them with your card, so without having one, I can't get money out of the money withdrawing machine. I don't know how you do it, but without a card I can only get money out of the bank account by (online) bank transfers, and that's pretty hard at grocery store register.

Our bank offices stopped handing out cash several years ago, of which I am still very salty about.

I got some cash from my mom, and I had a handful of coins left over from the last time I had used an ATM a while back, but that's kinda rare for me, since most places accept card.

[chickensarentcheap]

Sanctuary -Chapter 60

Warnings: none

Tagging: @innerpaperexpertcloud​, @c-a-v-a-l-r-y​, @alievans007​, @thunderintheshadows​, @valkyrie-of-the-light​

It's the first time in five and a half years that she's actually picked him at the airport; normally, Nik was in charge of any and all elements of a job, including the transportation to and from home. It doesn't seem like much; being able to do something simple. But it's a sign that their new life has already begun. That all ties to their former existence are being cut; one at a time, a slow withdrawal from the things that had taken up so much time and energy and caused so many issues and grief. And it will a slow process; the out with the old, in with the new. As will the path to healing; long and arduous, filled with a lot of guilt, anger, and tears. But he needs to go through it. They both do.

He stands out amongst the crowd; mostly businessmen in crisp linen suits and expensive silk ties, a stark contrast to his weathered and worn jeans, simple t-shirt, and scuffed and stained combat boots. Easily several inches taller than most. All long legs and torso; broad chest and strong, muscular arms, a backpack slung over wide, sculpted shoulders. There’s a scowl on his face as he weaves through the sea of people. He’s anxious; she can tell by the tension in his body, how dark his eyes are as he surveys the crowd, looking for her. Maybe there’s a worry there too. This was an entirely new situation to them, and while he was letting go off his old life, it would be difficult to let go of all his old habits. If even he could.  Perhaps he’d always wonder if there was potential for hidden threats; someone who’d felt he’d wrong them looking for revenge. And maybe that overprotectiveness would never be corrected; perhaps it was just something that years on the job had engrained into him and she’d just have to learn to live with.  

There were worst things in the world to deal with, she supposed; she could be stuck with someone that give a shit whether she was coming or going, alive or dead. This way she’d always feel important to someone. Worthy of them. And she’d always feel safe. She would never have to worry about anything happening to her or the kids; confident in Tyler’s ability to handle any situation. The boy may leave the job, but part of the job will always remain in the boy.  It was ludicrous to think otherwise. Those skills were engrained in him now; years of having to use his hands and weapons to save not only others, but himself.

The scowl is replaced by a smile when he sees her making her way towards him. A genuine smile: full of relief and content, immediately bringing that sparkle back to his eyes and diminishing the creases in his brow.  He looks tired, but he’s happy. As if the just merely seeing her there managed to lift a considerable weight off of his shoulders.

“Hey,” he greets simply, and she gives her own smile and ‘hey’ in return before he’s gathering her in those strong, powerful arms, one across her back, the other under ass. Pulling her up onto her tip toes and tightly into him.

She curls her arms around his neck and presses her body against his. Closing her eyes as she revels in the feel of him, all solid muscle and warmth. His scent familiar yet still in intoxicating. And she moves one of her hands from his neck to the back of his head, where his hair is clipped right to the scalp.

“I’m just glad you’re here,” she breathes, as she fights back the emotion that threatens to consume her.  

The relief is overwhelming; knowing that she doesn’t have to do this anymore. The last time she’ll ever have to welcome him back home after putting his life on the line for other people.  No more hard goodbyes in the driveway, or late-night phone chats, or worrying if she’s ever going to see him again.   Removing an arm from behind her back, he pushes his fingers through her hair and cups the back of her head in his palm as he kisses her.  Long and soft.  And she can’t remember a time in the last five and a half years that both his kiss and his touch have been that gentle. There’s an always an edge to Tyler; a hardness and aggression that he just can’t shake. Even when they make love.  But she feels it now; in the way that his mouth moves against hers and his fingers softly knead at the back of her head.  And it’s enough to both take her breath away and bring tears to her eyes.

“I’m so glad you’re home,” she pulls back to look at him, fingertips gently exploring all the old scars and the wounds from the altercation at McMann’s house that are in their final stages of healing.  There are no new injuries; a first in the years they’ve spent together. No return home is every complete without at least a few stitches, a split lip or black eye (or two) or even broken bones. Usually ribs. But there’s been a busted forearm, wrist, and ankle thrown in for good measure.  

“So am I,” Tyler says, and presses her lips to her forehead, allowing them to linger there before pulling away, chuckling when he notices all the curious eyes and smile surrounding them.  

All strangers see is a couple being reunited. They don’t know everything they’ve been through though, or just how close it had come to this moment never taking place at all. But he does.  The cards had all been stacked against him, right from day one. The second McMann had failed to kill him in Guatemala and had shown up in Colorado. It had all begun to unravel from there, the intricate and deliberate mind games being what brought him down in the end. Not a bullet.

“You look tired,” she observes, as she brushes his hair out of his eyes and then lays a hand on his cheek, repeatedly brushing her thumb against his beard. “Did you sleep at all?”

“I managed a couple hours on the plane. Shoulder and knee both started acting up though, so…”

“In a couple days you can call the doctor and see if you can get them look at,” she gently suggests. She doesn’t want to come across as overbearing or controlling. But she knows just how stubborn he can and how he’ll just let something go for months…even years…and the damage ending up being far worse than it ever needed to be. “Better to do it now than wait until we move, don’t you think?”

“You’re the boss now, baby. Whatever you want.”

“Wait a second,” she grins. “I never agreed to being in charge of everything.”

“I’m retired now. All I have to look forward to is getting fat and lazy.”

“Right!” she laughs, and instead of his arm underneath his ass, his palm briefly travels over it and then settles on the small of her back. “You? Fat and Lazy? We both know that’s never going to happen. You’re going to end up in the gym even more now because you’ll need a way to get out all the pent-up aggression and energy.”

“Yeah?” he looks down at her with that crooked grin; the one that had captured her heart all those years ago and still made her weak in the knees. And his splays his hand on the small of her back, so those longer fingers come in contact with her ass as he pulls her even tighter against him. “I can think of other ways to get all that out.”

“I can’t believe you’re even in the mood for that.”

“I’m always in the mood for that.”   What better way is there to get everything out of your system? Anger. Frustration. Sadness. Even grief. It wasn’t a permanent fix, but at least it temporarily made you feel better.

“Well, soon I’m going be fat and gross and we wouldn’t be able to do things like that,” she reminds him. “So you’re either going to be working out a lot or you’re going to studying alone a lot. There’s no third option, so finding some hot blond to occupy your time is not in the cards, I’m sorry.”

“Not even a brunette or a red head?”

She shakes her head. “I don’t share. You know that. So when I’m fat and gross, you’re going to have to come up with something to get your energy out.”

“For the record, you’re not going to get fat and gross. You could never be fat and gross. Not in a million years. You’re pregnant. There’s a difference.”

“I keep forgetting you’re one of those weirdos who find their wives beautiful and sexy when they’re knocked up.”

“If that makes me weird…” he shrugs.

“Well that’s not all that makes you weird. I actually have a list at home if you want to see it.”

He grins, then kisses her once more. Shorter this time. But a little more aggressive.  

She rests her chin against his chest, smiling up at him. “You’re okay?”

“No.” he admits.  “But I will be.”

****

He cries after they make love. A release of so many emotions that have been threatening to swallow him whole. Enormous amounts of frustration, anger, and hints of sadness and desperation. Relief as well; that the most dire and dangerous years of his are not behind him and he can concentrate on having a normal life. Or his version of it, at least. He was ashamed afterwards; embarrassed that he’d allowed his emotions to get the better of him, that he’d lost control and let himself be so vulnerable.  And she’d held him as he clung to her, stroking his hair and his back, ensuring him that of all the people in the world that he could be that way with, it was her. There was no reason for shame. Or embarrassment. Not with her. Never with her.

They know all of each other’s deepest and darkest secrets; things they’ve never told another other living soul.  He was the first -and still the only- person she ever told about everything Mark had done: the mental abuse along with sexual.  And she was one of the few people that he’d ever opened up to about not only the death of his son, but the tremendous guilt he’d been living with over abandoning his own flesh and blood. Keeping secrets were not something they did; no matter how painful and devastating they could be.

The emotional meltdown, mixed in with jet lag, had worn him out and he’d fallen asleep; on his side with the comforter pulled up past his chin. Exhausted both mentally and physically, his features soft and not bearing any sign of pain of discomfort. The most peaceful and content that she’d seen him -while at rest- in years. She took it as a good sign. That although the road was going to long and bumpy, he was ready and willing to work on putting the past behind him.  On finally putting all those monsters and demons to rest. And finally forgiving himself for the choices he’d made and the things that he’d done.  

She’d settled in beside him; tucking her back into his front, loving the instinctive way his arm reached out to wrap around her, hand resting on her stomach, and his leg came to rest over top of hers. The same way he’d been falling asleep for the past the five and a half years.  Eventually he’d move; either woken up by pain or because she’d tell him to roll over and leave her alone because he was either too hot and too heavy, or snoring way too damn much.  

The sun is beginning to set when she wakens; finding that heavy arm and leg still draped over her and his forehead resting against the back of her head.  She’s hungry and needs to pee, but he’s a light sleeper and getting away from him when he’s in that close of contact is nothing short of a feat worthy of Mission: Impossible. Even the smallest of movements and sounds able to wake him in an instant, the hyper-vigilance extremely strong.  And she feels him begin to stir when she moves slips out from underneath the weight of his two limbs.

“What’s wrong?” Tyler mumbles, eyes still closed.

“Nothing’s wrong. Go back to sleep.”

“What time is it?”

“What does it matter? Got a hot date or something?”

“Maybe I do,” he responds, and then reaches out to curl an arm around her waist and pull her back towards him. Once again placing his hand on her stomach and burying his face in the back of her neck. And the feel of him…that solid body, the warmth that he gives off, the tickle of his breath again her skin…makes her temporarily forget all about her own discomfort. “What time is it?” he asks again.

“Almost quarter after nine.”

“At night?”

She nods.

“Where’s the kids?”

“They’re with Kyle and Nik. Remember? I told you this yesterday. That Kyle would take him them so we could be alone for two or three days. So it would nice and quiet and you could just have time to relax and start working shit out.”

“Oh…yeah…okay…”  he nuzzles the tip of her nose against the nape of her neck, then presses a kiss to it.

“You remember that, right?”  She can’t help but feel slightly concerned. Had his memory issues really gotten that bad?”

“Yeah. I just…I don’t know…half asleep I guess.”

“Do you know what day it is?”

He nods. “It’s Thursday.”

“Month?”

He yawns. “July.”

“Year?”

“I know what day, month and year it is,” he grumbles. “And I remember about the kids. I was just…I don’t know…out of it for a second.  I’m not brain dead.”

“I didn’t say you were. It just kind of freaked me out for a second.”

“Well stop…” he implores and kisses the back of her head. “…stop freaking out, stop stressing, stop being irrational. Everything’s fine. I’m home now. That’s all that matters, yeah?”

She nods in agreement, and lays her hand over top of his, lacing their fingers together.  “Do you want to talk about it?” she asks.

“About what?”

“I don’t know. Things.  All the things. Why you wanted to come home?”

“I didn’t want to come home. I mean, I did. I needed to come home.”

“Do you want to talk about that? Why you needed to come home?”

“Not right now.”

“But you will? Right? Talk about it?”

Tyler nods.

She rolls over onto her side, facing him, and presses a kiss to his forehead. And he gives a small smile and places his hand on the small of her back, pulling her body flesh against his. His head dropping to her shoulder as her fingers slowly comb through his hair, letting those longer strands slide between her fingers.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, his breath warm and soothing against her skin.

“For what?”

“Everything.”

“Everything is a lot of things. Do you want to give me something specific or…”?

“Everything,” he stresses, as he lifts his head to look at her. “Everything shitty fucking thing I’ve done in the past five and a half years.”

“Tyler, I don’t know how many shitty fucking things you think you’ve done, but…”

“I never should have gotten back into it. The job.  After we helped Ovi out the second time in Dhaka, that should have been it. I should have just walked away then. I should have just told Nik to fuck off when she called offering me work. But we had Millie and Ovi and you were having the twins and I was worried about keeping a roof over your heads and food on the table and…”

“We talked about this. It was four years ago. You did what you thought was the best for us. It wasn’t an easy time and you had lot of valid worries and concerns. Do I wish you’d handled things differently?  Like talking to me about it before you just went and did it? That would have been great. But it’s over and done with and you can’t go back and change it. You need to let things like that go. Stop holding onto them and blaming yourself and hating yourself. I don’t blame you and I don’t hate you. And you shouldn’t either.”

“I couldn’t stop. Wanting to do it. The job. I kept telling myself that I would. Every time I came home, I’d tell myself that I wouldn’t answer the phone the next time Nik called. Or I’d just say no to whatever she offered me. But I never could. It was an obsession. I couldn’t let go if it no matter how hard I tried. I’ve been away from you and the kids more than I’ve been with you.”

She gives a nod in confirmation.

“And I fucking hate that. That I let I let it get that bad. That I myself get that bad. And I’m sorry. For all the times I just left you and the kids. For missing birthdays and anniversaries and all of that. For just being a shitty goddamn husband. For abandoning you when you needed me. I never meant to hurt you.”

“I know you didn’t,” she assures him. “I know.”

“I just took of advantage of it. You. I just knew you’d be here when I got back, and I thought you always would be no matter how many times I left. I thought you’d always be here no matter and then one you almost weren’t.”

“McMann’s house?”

He nods, the tears threatening once again. “I’m sorry. I am so fucking sorry.”

“Tyler…it’s okay…” she takes his face in her hands, pressing her lips to his brow. “…you need to let this all go.”

“It’s not okay. It’s never going to be okay. How can you forgive me when I can’t even forgive myself?”

“Because I love you,” she reasons. “Can’t that be a good enough reason?”

He nods, sniffling noisily as he wraps both arms around her, hands clasped together at the small of her back.

Pushing her hand into his hair, she grips it tightly and draws his face down to her shoulder once more. It’s nowhere near as powerful as the breakdown he’d had before; no sound escaping his body, no trembling against her. Just the feel of his tears against her skin. Holding him there until he eventually pulls away, rolling over onto his back and using his forearm to clear any remaining droplets from his face.

She reaches out and rubs his stomach. “You hungry?”

“Yeah, I could eat.”

“Good. Because I’m starving. I haven’t been able to stop eating since the doctor put me on those meds. I swear to God, if I’m actually eating for three instead of two, I will chop your balls off.  One set of twins is enough.”

“Maybe it’s triplets.”

Frowning, she grabs her pillow from behind her and smacks him in the face with. “You bite your goddamn tongue! You were the one that made the twin comment four years ago and look what happened. It came true. So if at the next ultrasound, they find three…”

“I will let you chop my balls off,” he promises her.

“Or, you could go and the snip like you promised you would after Declan. It would be a lot less painful than chopping them off. Just saying.”

“Whatever you want, I’ll do it. Make the call. Set it up.  Get her done.”

“You can consider that an early birthday present to me,” she chides, and then leans over to kiss him. “I am going to make dinner and you are going to shower and then come and eat with me. Deal?”

He nods. “Deal.”

****

“I want you do something for me,” he says a half an hour later, as he joins her in the kitchen.

“Blow jobs come after dinner,” she says from where she stands at the stove, stirring a pot of pasta sauce.  “Those are considered dessert.”

“As tempting as that sounds,” he lays a hand on her hip and presses a kiss to the side of her head. “That’s not what I was talking about. Although, I might take you up on it.”

“Might?” she grins, as he leans back against the counter by the stove. “You know you will. There is no might. What do want me to do?”

He holds up the hair clippers that he’d brought down from the bathroom.

“We talked about this. You get your rid of your beard, we’re getting a divorce. This is not up for debate.”

“If we get divorced, do I have to pay alimony and child support?”

She frowns.

“I’m not getting rid of my beard. That’s not what I want you to do. I want you to shave my head.”

“Okay…” she wipes her hands off on the thighs of her leggings. “…why?”

“Why’d you want to dye your back to its normal color?”

“Because the red represented a really fucked up time that I didn’t particularly want to relive every day.”

He holds the clippers out to her once again. “Shave my head.”

“That’s a little…extreme…don’t you think?”

“It’s hair. It’ll grow back. You wanted your hair back to normal to forget about something bad, well I want it mine gone so I can forget about things. We want to move on, right? We want to put all of this behind us? This life? This job? Everything fucked up that’s happened in the last five and a half years? That’s what we’re trying to do, yeah?”

“Yeah, but your hair? Why…?”

“Just do it.  I dyed your hair when I didn’t want to.”

“You weren’t attached to my red hair in the weird and creepy way I’m attached to your hair.”

“Please?” he offers the item in his hand once more. “I need to do this. I need to let it go. I need to let him go. And I want you to help me do it.”

She sighs, and then takes the clippers from him. “Why do you have to break my heart like this? Your hair? I’d almost rather the beard.”

“Okay. Then it’s one or the other. Beard or hair. You can’t keep both.”

She looks down at the object in her hand, then back at him.  “I’m really going to miss your hair.”

****

They have dinner first; sitting out on the back deck with nothing more than a handful of candles and the solar lights attached to the top railing. It’s been a long time since either of them has felt this relaxed; soothed by the comforts of home and familiar surroundings.  Being able to indulge in conversation that didn’t revolve the job anyone even remotely attached to it.  Teasing on another in the good natured and loving way they’d developed years ago, laughing easily as they reminisced about the past four years in their home, speaking wistfully of all the things that awaited them in Australia. They’d picked a home the day before; a four bedroom bungalow on fifteen acres in Cookstown, the northern most habitable point on the Gold Coast in Queensland.  It backed out onto the ocean and came with its own private beach; a fair size that would give them the privacy and security they craved when it came to their children. The money had already been transferred. In full. And they took possession in a little more than a month and a half. It didn’t leave a lot of time; to pack up their life here and leave behind what they didn’t want weighing them down.

Kyle would move into their current house. Taking on the chickens and the goats. Ovi…and Chloe…would be moving with them.  The house in Cookstown having a one bedroom granny flat a hundred yards from the pool that would make a great place for a young couple just starting out.

“I don’t know if I can do this,” Esme says an hour after dinner, the clippers in her hand as Tyler sits in a chair in the middle of the kitchen.  “This is a lot harder than I thought it would be. What if I screw it up?”

“What’s there to screw up? You’re shaving it all off.”

“But it’s just so nice…” she pouts as she runs her fingers through the longer strands.  “…I’ve only been in love with this hair cut for five and a half years.”

“Did you fall in love with my hair or me?”  

“Do you really want me to answer that?”

He glares at her.

“You of course! But this is how you had your hair when I met you and that’s how I know you.”

“I grew my hair out after you had Declan,” he points out.

“And I made you get it cut back to this. This is all I’ve known. This haircut. And I’m a little attached to it.”

“You think?”

“You were mad when I cut my hair,” she reminds him.

“I wasn’t mad. I was disappointed. I liked it long.”

“And I like yours like this.”

“Because you can pull it. That’s the only reason. You like to pull it and I let you do it.”

“Exactly. Won’t you miss that? Me pulling here when we’re doing…adult things?”

“I’ll learn to deal. Are you crying to cry over this?” he grins. “You look like you’re going to cry about this.”

“I might,” she admits, and he can’t help but laugh. “It’s only because I’m hormonal. I’m not that attached to your hair. I can’t believe you’re laughing at me. You’re the reason I’m hormonal in the first place! If you didn’t sleep in grade nine health class, you would have known the pullout method doesn’t work and I wouldn’t be insanely hormonal right now.”

“I’m sorry.  I’m…” he bites down on his bottom lip to stifle his laughter. “…I’m laughing with you, not at you.”

“Bullshit you are.”

“It’s just hair, Esme. It’ll grow back. But I really need you to do this. If we’re putting it all behind us, then this is part of it. If we want to let go of everything from the past, we have to let go of him to. Please…” he lays his hands on her hips. “…do this for me.”

“Okay…” she sighs, and leans in to kiss him. “…but if I mess this up…”

“What is there to mess up? You’re taking it all off. You’ll be alright, baby. You can do this. I have faith in you.”

“Don’t be a smart ass or I’ll shave one of your eyebrows off,” she threatens, and turns the clippers on.

It takes all of five minutes; the guard set on the lowest setting before taking the hair right down to the skin. He hasn’t worn it that short since his military days, when he’d been much younger and short hair had been mandatory.  And which each strand that falls, so does some of the weight from the past. The memories of the things he’d had to do in the name of survival; the people he’d killed, the ways he’d had to resort to, the money he’d taken. It didn’t matter how many he saved. The lives he’d taken will always overshadow them.  

Killing had never been for fun. He’d never gotten a rush or a joy out of it like so many other mercenaries did. It was simply a means to an end; something he had to do in order to either save someone or himself. There would always be regrets. Over having to do the things he’d done. For making the tough decisions that he wouldn’t wish on even his worst enemy. For trusting the wrong people and not trusting the right ones.  There were so many things he’d done wrong over the span of the last five and a half years. And all he could do was try and not make the same mistakes twice.  

“Anyone else you’d shave their hair and they’d be hideous,” Esme says as she unplugs the clippers. “Not you. You just stay hot. Regardless. What a burden to have to live with. I don’t know how carry such a heavy weight being so attractive while the rest of us are destined to be ugly forever.”

“You can see the scars now,” he tucks his chin into his chest, fingers moving over his scalp.  “How bad are they are?”

She stands behind his thighs and holds his hand in her hands. “If I connect the dots, I can make a perfect outline of New York State.”

He frowns.  

“There’s barely anything there. And who cares? You have lots of scars other places. They don’t bother me. They’re sexy. They give you character.”

“You’re weird.”

“Maybe,” she shrugs. “But you’re still the most beautiful man in the world to me.”

“Normally I hate the B word, but I’ll give it to you.”

“Good. Because it’s true,” she kisses him softly. “Whether you like that word or not.  And I have to say…” she runs her palms over his head. “…it’s pretty sexy.  You pull it off. It’s just…I don’t know…” she chews on her bottom lip, tears welling in her eyes.  

“Baby…seriously…” his hands find her hips. “…over hair?”

“It’s not about the hair. It’s what getting rid of it means. It’s like an ending. Like we’re saying goodbye to the last five and a half years…”

“Just the bad stuff. Not the good stuff. Just the job and everything connected to it. It had to go. He had to go. And you know he did.”

She nods. “It’s just all getting to be so final now. You coming home for good, getting rid of everything that came with the job, now the hair.  It’s just seems more real. And in a month and a bit, none of this will exist either. We’re just going to walk away and leave it all behind.”

“We don’t have to. We can get the money back and stay here. If that’s what you want.”

“That’s not what I want. I want to go back to Australia.  I need to go back. We need to go back. It’s just sad, you know. There’s a lot of good memories here too. I mean Declan was born here. In this house. All because he couldn’t wait long enough to get to the hospital. I bet you thought you’d never add ‘delivered a baby’ to your resume.”

“Nope. And I don’t want to ever do it again. So this…” he lays a hand on her stomach. “…stays where she’s supposed to until she’s supposed to.”

“We still don’t know for sure if it’s a boy or a girl, so…”

“It’s a girl. Trust me. It is.”

“Wanna make a bet? Just a friendly wager?”

“Depends. What’s it entail?”

“If you lose and it’s a boy, you have to clean all the dirty diapers from the time he comes home until he’s two months old. And your track record for making boys is three out of four, so…”

“And if I win?”

“If it’s a girl…and that’s a big if because you’ve had one girl and made three boys afterwards…you get to decorate the nursery any way you want.”

He arches an eyebrow. “Any way?”

“Any way you want. And I won’t complain about it once. I promise. Just no clowns because Junior is scared shitless of them and unless you want him sleeping in our bed until he’s eighteen…”

“Junior?” Tyler laughs. “That’s what we’re calling him now?”

“You call Declan ‘the Ginger’,” she points out.

“We are going to give our kids complexes. If we haven’t already. They’re going to need therapy. Lots of it.”

“Is it a bet? Are you in?”

“I’m in.  And I’m already going to apologize for what I’m going to do with that nursery.”

“You’re so cocky,” she laughs. “There’s no proof than some dream you had that it’s a girl.”

“And you have no proof that it’s a boy. So…”

“History, my friend. Specifically, your sperms history. History is not on your side.”

“I’m due for a win. It’s a girl.”

“We’ll see. We’ll find out for sure in four weeks. Which means we actually need to find a doctor in Australia before we get there. And you said you’d handle all the Australia stuff. It’ll keep you busy and out of your head. Which…by the way…” she rubs her hands against the stubble. “…is a very sexy head.”

“Thank you. For doing that for me. I know it broke your heart.”

“A little part of me died inside,” she teases. “I’ll never be the same. But…” she holds his face in her hands and kisses him. “…you’re lucky you’re hot no matter what you do with your hair. And thank you. For trusting me with that. I know why you had to do it. And you trusted me with it.”

“There’s nothing I don’t trust you with. My kids’ lives. Mine.”

“Don’t get all sappy with me. My hormones cannot take it.  You know it makes me weak. When you get like that. I swear you use it to your advantage. You know it makes me weak enough to give you whatever you want.”

“You know what I really want right now? Dessert.”

She smirks. “Are you talking code language for blow jobs or are we talking actual food to eat?”

He grins and kisses her. “I’ll let you figure it out.”

[popculty]

Surviving the Coronapocalypse: A Masterpost

Living in the current coronavirus capital of the U.S., I’ve been thinking a lot about how woefully unprepared my city was, and how I can help other people who will likely be in the situation we’ve been in within the next few weeks or months. There have been a LOT of posts - from memes to crap advice to solid advice to a misspelled hashtag that somehow blew up without anyone noticing. It’s been all over the place and kind of overwhelming, honestly. So instead of reblogging a million individual posts, I wanted to consolidate some of the most useful information/resources I’ve come across into one handy, update-able reference post. And because this a pop culture blog, there’s gonna be plenty of that sprinkled in. This isn’t going to be an exhaustive list, by any means - that would be impossible, considering how many angles there are to this thing and how quickly it’s evolving. But feel free to use this as a starter, and add to it as you come across other resources worth sharing.

First, protect your health:

1. I can’t believe in the year 2020, 150 years after germs were discovered, that we have to even say this, but: Wash your hands, people. This seems obvious, and we hear it constantly, and yet I keep seeing people use hand sanitizer like it’s the same as hand-washing. Not-so-fun fact: IT ISN’T. Not even close (so double fuck this guy!). First of all, it’s only effective against some types of germs. Secondly, it does NOT kill or remove those germs, it just temporarily neutralizes them, allowing them to resurface later. Hand sanitizer should only be used when hand-washing is not an option. It’s better than nothing, but is not a long-term habit that will save you. If you are going to use hand sanitizer, it needs to contain at least 60% alcohol to be effective. Alcohol, however, dries the fuck out of your hands, and germs love dry skin because they can hide in the cracks. So it’s important to moisturize afterward. But I’ll say it louder for the people in the back (esp. men who still haven’t figured out how bathroom hygiene works and then wonder why they’re dying at much higher rates from this): JUST 👏 WASH 👏 YOUR 👏 DAMN 👏 HANDS! 👏 Scrub for 20-30 seconds, like Kristen Bell told you. There are a million memes for this. Find one that speaks to you, or make your own, and use it.

2. “Social distancing” - By now we’ve all heard of this, and it’s a good thing for everyone to start doing right about now, regardless of whether or not you are feeling symptoms, because as Idris Elba just reminded us (bless), many people do not show symptoms, for weeks or even ever. So: try to stay six feet away from other people as much as possible. If you can’t avoid getting close to people, just make it quick. The latest info is that it’s not airborne (thank god), but transmitted via droplets (i.e. from coughing), so it really doesn’t matter whether you’re inside or outdoors.

3. And now a word from my infectious disease specialist mom who is working on the front-lines of this: 📣  If you have symptoms (fever, cough, shortness of breath), stay home and take care of yourself like you would if you had the flu. Do not go out in public unless you absolutely have to, (i.e. you are literally dying and require medical attention) and if you do, WEAR A SURGICAL MASK. IF YOU ARE NOT EXPERIENCING SYMPTOMS, YOU DO NOT NEED TO WEAR A MASK – THEY SHOULD ONLY BE WORN BY PEOPLE WHO ARE SICK/COUGHING (to stop those droplets), AND BY HEALTH CARE WORKERS. DO NOT HOARD MASKS FOR PERSONAL USE - THEY ARE ESSENTIALLY USELESS TO YOU AND IT DIVERTS THEM FROM THE DOCTORS AND NURSES WHO ACTUALLY NEED THEM. 📣 Thank you.

4. If you can stay home, stay home. Simple as that. Sure, flights are cheap and we all love a deal but at what cost, Becky?? Just because you can fly (you’re young! you’re healthy! you’re feeling lucky! you *hair flip* just don’t give a fuck!), doesn’t mean you can’t show some goddamn personal restraint and concern for your fellow (elderly, at-risk) human beings. If you won’t listen to me, listen to Wonder Woman. Participate in the #stayhomechallenge and #dontbeaspreader.

5. Inform yourself. The news is doing a really good job of sowing general panic and not much else. And obviously, the situation is literally changing everyday, but here are the basics you should know, via handy infographics. To keep up with the latest, I recommend this interactive map and Science Vs., an investigative science podcast that is currently doing a series of episodes on the ever-changing COVID-19 situation. It does a really good job of painting a picture of how this virus actually spreads, who is at risk, and what a pandemic would actually look like. The “Pandemic” episode of Explained on Netflix is also proving incredibly prescient right now.

Be a decent human being:

The truth is, if you know the facts, coronavirus isn’t actually that scary. What is scary is uninformed people acting impulsively and selfishly. Like, there is no logical reason for the run on toilet paper (coronavirus doesn’t even make you shit!). The reason there is no toilet paper in your grocery store is because a handful of excitable people panicked and bought up all the Charmin they saw. Then other people panicked when they saw the empty shelf and thought, “I guess I should be stockpiling tp too ??” So they did. Then other people came to the grocery store, saw the empty shelves, and posted pictures of those empty shelves on social media. And now everyone in the entire world is freaking out about toilet paper, for no goddamn reason. This scarcity (of tp, of Purell, etc), is a human-created problem, not an outbreak-created problem. Whereas, if everyone had remained calm and bought only what they needed, we could have avoided this entire headache. But people are gonna people, I guess. (If you’re still freaking out about toilet paper though, you should really just invest in a bidet, which is far more sanitary and better for the environment anyway.)

All this is to say: Think before you act. Stop tweeting pictures of empty shelves - you’re only fueling the fire. And don’t use the climate of fear and uncertainty as an excuse to act like a shitty person. When things return to normal, your actions right now will be remembered by those around you. So:

1. Take a look at this graph. If you’re healthy and young (under 60), don’t be a dick. Before you snatch every last roll of toilet paper or bottle of cold remedy off the shelf, considering leaving some for the grandmother behind you who’s probably terrified and has only just now risked leaving her house for this one grocery run, only to find the shelves bare.

2. Moreover, instead of getting swept up into the panic-buying and selfish hoarding, consider buying/delivering groceries for the elderly and at-risk, who are unable to leave their homes. Find out what volunteer opportunities have sprung up in your community to specifically address outbreak-related needs.

3. Donate to food banks - People who have been furloughed from their jobs will have an even harder time putting food on the table, and kids that depend on free school meals will still need to eat if their school is closed.

4. Support local businesses. Big businesses will weather this just fine, but your mom-and-pop store down the street? Your local grocer? They’re hurting already and might not be able to survive weeks or months of low sales or even closing down for a period of time. So...

Buy from local stores rather than big chains as much as possible.

If you are eating/ordering out, choose local, and especially Asian restaurants, who are really hurting right now, and because again: YOU CANNOT GET CORONAVIRUS FROM FOOD. YOU’RE JUST BEING RACIST.

If you don’t want to eat out at all right now (probably advisable), buy gift cards to local restaurants for yourself or others – This will support struggling business now when they need it, and then you can cash in on them when things calm down a bit.

Likewise, if you have tickets to a play, show, etc that gets cancelled, consider not asking for a refund and instead making that a donation to your local stage company, independent cinema, arts center, etc.

If you live in a city where a large event with many local vendors gets cancelled, find out if there is an alternative pop-up event to support those vendors, or buy from them on Etsy. Many artists and craftspeople depend on one huge, annual event like a fair or Con for their entire year’s earnings, so having that event postponed or cancelled is a huge financial blow to them. For example, when Emerald City Comic-Con got pushed til August, this lovely Twitter thread popped up to support the artists.

Maintain your sanity:

The other big thing we are starting to realize is that this social distancing is going to cause a loneliness epidemic in countries that are already some of the loneliest in the world. We don’t know how long these measures will be in place, so we need to prepare ourselves, mentally/emotionally:

1. Take a breath - Even worst-case scenario, this isn’t the end of the world. Try to keep perspective. Apps like Happify, Calm, or any of these can help keep obtrusive thoughts at bay, provide guided mindfulness meditations and breathing exercises, and help center you when you feel like the world is spinning out of control. This is likely going to be a marathon, not a sprint, so pace yourself and be proactive about your mental health.

2. Stay connected – We have more ways to keep in touch virtually now than ever before.

FaceTime, Marco Polo, Discord – Use technology to check in with your friends and family.

Podcasts are a great way to feel connected to others right now. Death, Sex, and Money just did a listener call-in episode, which was a good reminder that this outbreak is affecting people differently across city, state, country, race, class, gender, and ability. Another one of my faves that is going to be applicable to more people than ever in these coming months is The Hilarious World of Depression, in which comedians like Rachel Bloom, Solomon Georgio, and Margaret Cho talk about mental illness and comedy. In one especially relevant episode, Mara Wilson talks about how people with anxiety tend to handle crisis much better than neurotypicals (which explains how I’m so zen right now...)

3. Keep busy - Not being able to go out and socialize like we are used to is likely to make a lot of us stir-crazy. But there are a ton of things you can do and see from the comfort of your own home.

Go on a virtual museum tour, or see the Palace of Versailles.

Take a soothing, 8-hour virtual drive through Iceland.

Watch operas at The Met.

Explore NASA’s stunning media library.

Tackle your book list.

Start writing that novel (or finish that fic!)

File your taxes (Get that return!)

Do your spring cleaning.

Plant a victory garden to reduce the strain on producers and avoid crowded stores.

Binge the shows your friends keep telling you about (follow this blog and podcast for recs!)

If you have kids, here’s a list of all the free educational courses being offered right now.

Libraries may be closed, but you can still get free ebooks, music, movies and TV shows on the Hoopla app, and movies on Kanopy for free if you have a library card or are a student or teacher.

Some upcoming theatrical releases have been postponed (No Time to Die, indeed), but others, like Emma and The Invisible Man, will hit streaming platforms immediately, so you can still get your new movie fix.

So many things to do! Try not to see it as being confined, but rather as an opportunity to do all the things you’ve been putting off. If getting shit done makes you feel good, do it! But hey - remember that you really don’t have to be productive right now just because capitalism tells you to. This is also a great time to be still and relish doing absolutely nothing.

4. Perspective - Remember that this is not the only thing happening in the world right now (psst, the U.S. government is using this distraction to fuck with our privacy, AGAIN.) Also, this is not the first pandemic humanity has endured and it will be nowhere near the worst, so soothe yourself by reading about past pandemics and how we got through them.

Alright. Back to covering pop culture for me (we’re gonna need escapism now more than ever). I’m not gonna even try to update this regularly, that’s just too daunting. But I encourage you to add to this and share as needed in the coming weeks/months.

Stay safe out there, and