#Best car insurance deals
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
Affordable Car Insurance Quotes - Compare Rates & Save
Are you tired of shelling out a small fortune for your car insurance coverage? Donât worry, youâre not alone. Finding cheap car insurance quotes can feel like an uphill battle, but with the right strategies, you can secure the most budget-friendly premiums and make the most of your hard-earned money. In this comprehensive guide, weâll provide you with the insights and tools you need to compareâŚ
View On WordPress
#Affordable auto insurance quotes#Best car insurance deals#Cheap car insurance rates#Cheapest car insurance providers#Comparing car insurance prices#Cost-effective car coverage options#Discounted auto insurance rates#Finding budget-friendly car insurance#Low-cost vehicle insurance quotes#Saving on car insurance premiums
0 notes
Text
Handling Avoiding Previous Claims: The Basics of Insurance
Insurance functions as a vital safeguard, shielding against unexpected life occurrences. Whether protecting your car, home, or health, understanding the intricacies of insurance, particularly your claims history, is paramount. This guide delves into the complexities of claims history, shedding light on its impact on insurance decisions and guiding you through this intricate landscape.
Unveiling Claims History:
Your claims history is a comprehensive record of all insurance claims filed within a specified timeframe, detailing frequency, types, and settlement amounts. Insurers scrutinize this data to assess the associated risk in providing coverage.
Impact of Claims History:
Premium Influence: Claims history significantly molds insurance premiums, and frequent claims history often results in higher premiums, indicative of increased risk.
Policy Renewal and Acceptance: Insurers closely evaluate claims history during policy renewal, influencing renewal outcomes and potential rate adjustments.
Coverage Terms: Past claims shape the specifics of insurance coverage, potentially leading to specific limitations or exclusions.
Accessing Your Claims History:
Securing your claims history is a straightforward process, accomplished through a request to your current insurance provider or utilizing databases like the Comprehensive Loss Underwriting Exchange (CLUE) in regions such as the United States.
Understanding No-Claims Bonuses:
A no-claims bonus (NCB) functions as a reward system for policyholders refraining from filing claims over a specific period, resulting in reduced premiums. A clean claims history is viewed by insurers as indicative of lower risk, benefiting both parties financially.
Management Tips for Claims History:
Risk Management: Proactively manage risks through regular property maintenance and safety practices to minimize the need for claims.
Understand Policy Terms: Familiarize yourself with insurance policy terms to make informed decisions when contemplating claims.
Consider Deductibles: Balance a higher deductible against claims history and financial capacity to lower premiums.
Regular History Review: Keep a vigilant eye on claims history, regularly reviewing and strategizing insurance purchases for effective premium management.
In Conclusion:
Your claims history holds a pivotal role in your insurance portfolio. Grasping its impact, practicing effective risk management, and leveraging tools like no-claims bonuses are crucial for optimizing the insurance experience. For profound insights, especially in areas like car insurance, exploring resources and seeking expert advice can provide valuable guidance and clarity. A well-managed claims history is a significant stride toward achieving financial efficiency and peace of mind in your insurance journey.
If you are looking for the best car insurance deals for your vehicle, look no further than Shory Car Insurance Company. With a commitment to excellence, Shory offers unparalleled coverage tailored to your needs. Enjoy affordable premiums, comprehensive protection, and personalized solutions. When it comes to safeguarding your vehicle, Shory is the top choice. Trust us for the best car insurance deals, and drive with confidence on every journey.
0 notes
Text
How to Negotiate the Best Car Deal
Negotiating the best car deal is a skill that can save you thousands of dollars and provide immense satisfaction in knowing youâve made a smart financial decision. Whether youâre a seasoned negotiator or a first-time car buyer, mastering the art of negotiation is essential to getting the best value for your money. In this article, weâll explore practical strategies and tips on how to negotiateâŚ
#Additional Benefits#Best Deal#budget#Car Buying#Car Deal#Car Features#car market#Car Model#Car Price#car purchase#Car Quotes#car value#Competing Offers#Customer Reviews#dealership#Dealership Reputation#Discounts#Edmunds#End of Month#Extra Perks#Fair Price#financing#Financing Terms#Fine Print#Fuel Costs#Incentives#insurance#Kelley Blue Book#Loan#maintenance
0 notes
Photo
(via Smart Tips for Finding the Best Car Insurance Deal)
#car insurance#auto insurance#carinsurancepolicy#car insurance benefit#car insurance bd#best car insurance#top car insurance#car insurance deal
0 notes
Text
fuck this stupid baka life
#they upped my car insurance#and apparently itâs the best deal Iâll get anywhere#itâs high as fuck and I was supposed to be saving up this month#not to mention hills have been stupid high because summer in a desert is abyssmal#bills oops#think thunk
0 notes
Text
INFO: Car insurance for young drivers â How to get the best deals
INFO: Car insurance for young drivers â How to get the best deals Young driversâ auto insurance premiums are sometimes exorbitant, but there are alternatives to obtain affordable coverage. These include comparing prices at renewal time, asking for reductions, and looking over coverages for the best car insurance deals. The tips below can help get cheaper car insurance for young drivers. This is aâŚ
View On WordPress
0 notes
Text
guess who just got a traffic ticket and an insurance claim for their birthday â¨
(itâs me I rear ended somebody on my way home from the worlds worst day at work)
#everyoneâs okay I just now canât afford my car insurance#so I might be selling my only form of transportation soon yayyyy#this has got to be a joke my luck canât be this bad#acer rambles#Iâm gonna vent in the notes about it so proceed w caution from here#it would have been so much better if I had hit him just a little harder because then maybe I would have gotten hurt#best case scenario is that I fucking died on that road I should have I should not be okay right now#I just knocked his bumper off I know I didnât really do all that damage#but now I have to look my dad in the eyes and tell him I got into a second accident in less than a year#he has every right to be furious and to be completely honest I would rather eat a fucking bullet than him be mad at me#this is strike two the next time I misjudge my stopping distance or whatever Iâm going to kill someone and then I have to deal with that#shoutout to the lady twirling the sign that talked me through my anxiety attack#and for picking up my phone when I dropped it bc my hands were shaking so bad and I just needed to call my mom
0 notes
Text
From Gold to Mold
Chapter 5: The Departure (Warning: this chapter will contain violence. Read at your own risk.)
Itâs been around two months since you accepted the Megamycete into your body and for the first time since you were dragged to Gotham, youâre actually happy. With its vast archives, youâre bursting with knowledge spanning over the course of four-hundred years, ranging from the academic to the arts and itâs thanks to that knowledge that your grades have skyrocketed in the past few weeks; where once you struggled with something, now you know better than even the teachers, even correcting them when they make a mistake and outpacing the best students in your class. Sure, by this time, itâs a little too late to get to the top of your class, but you really donât care about your ranking; all that matters is being able to complete your homework, class assignments, and tests in record time, giving you time to work on more important things, like your game.
Included in the Megamyceteâs records are the knowledge and memories of many computer programmers, some of them working for Bruce in his tech division; you also have many artists and musicians swimming in your head, many of them talented in making art on computers, so with your newfound knowledge, youâve made tremendous strides in making your game. A year ago, you thought you would have to find a way to crowdfund the game in order to pay artists, musicians, and programmers and it would take a few years to make it ready for players, but now, youâre sure you can have this game ready by yourself within the year.
Not only has your intellectual attributes increased, but so have your physical abilities; the Megamyceteâs records also include many athletes, both professional and student, and you know how to play every sport thatâs ever been played in Gotham, but you havenât shown any improvement in gym class. You never had any interest in sports before and you sure as hell donât know. Plus, if you suddenly start showing everyone in the school that youâve all of a sudden become smarter and stronger out of nowhere, you might attract enough attention that not even the Waynes can ignore.
And that wonât end well for anyone.
Speaking of them, you know they heard about what happened at the My Alibi bar and are working overtime to find the culprit, the only thing they know for certain is that it was the work of someone new. It actually brought a smile to your face when you learned about it, that for all their detective skills, they have no idea that the person theyâre hunting for is under their own roof. While Damian is the only one to have ever told you to your face, you know they all think youâre stupid; that because you chose to deal with your fucked up life in a semi-healthy way and not dress up in some stupid little costume and fistfight psychopaths, that must mean thereâs something wrong with you in the head.
Fuck all of them. You donât need them and tomorrow night, youâll be driving back to Goodsprings.
When you turned eighteen, you inherited all of your Mommaâs assets, namely her life insurance policy, bank accounts, and royalties from all her books, all of which was worth a little over two-million; at first, you were going to save that money for when you moved back to Goodsprings in case you had to fix up your old home and pay the bills, but after almost dying due to relying on bus stops and bumming rides off of Alfred was unfair to the man, you decided to take some of the money and invest it in a car. The Megamycete had absorbed many modern car experts, so you were able to pick out a brand new car that was worth the hit to your wallet.
Plus, you had a way of earning a pretty penny and stick it to Bruce at the same time: sell his proprietary technology to Lex Corp. Many of Bruceâs employees are buried in Gothamâs cemeteries, some of them working on the latest technological breakthrough at the time of their deaths and you knew Bruceâs biggest business rival would kill to see what Bruceâs scientists are cooking up in their lab.
You reached out to the man using your computer knowledge to send him an email that couldnât be traced back to you, stating you had the specs for several of Wayne Enterprisesâ latest large scale projects and asked him if he was interested in buying them for a couple million in cash. Knowing heâd never consider the deal without some proof, you included bits and pieces of what you were offering, just enough to show you were legit, but not enough to be useful without the rest of it.
Sure enough, he took the hit and now, here you are, meeting with the most powerful man in Metropolis in his office, which overlooks the entire city. Of course, youâre smart enough to not show him your face, so you took the form of some Joe Schmo that died years ago.
âI donât believe it,â the man exclaims as he sifts through the papers you drew the designs on. âMedicine, experimental aircraft specs, software designs! Over a million spent in corporate espionage and nothing to show for it. Then you come along, offering more than enough to recoup those losses and then some.â He looks back at you, an ominous twinkle in his eye that makes you shiver. âAny chance I can rely on your services in the future?â
âPerhaps,â you say in your disguised voice. âIf I get my hands on more WE secrets, Iâll keep you in mind. Now, about my money?â
âOf course,â he purrs. He snaps at his assistant, who places the briefcase she was holding on his desk and opens it, revealing more money than youâve ever seen in your entire life. âTwenty million in unmarked bills. I trust thatâs more than enough?â
âYes,â you say, trying to hide your shock from earning enough money to last you the rest of your life in just a few seconds. âI believe it is.â
(We see no signs of sabotage or subterfuge,) the Megamycete says. (It would appear Luthor intends to keep his word. For once.)
âMercy will see you out,â Lex says as you take the briefcase. He then holds out a business card. âAnd this is my personal number and email. If you have more secrets youâre looking to sell, call me day or night.â
âThank you,â you say as you pocket the card.
And with that, you follow the assistant out of Lexâs office and down to the lobby.
(You must be happy to have amassed such a fortune,) the Megamycete states as you walk out the front door. (And exacting revenge on Bruce Wayne makes this moment all the better.)
âYouâre damn right,â you respond with a chuckle.
(Perhaps you could use some of that money to enjoy yourself? Since our joining, you have been hard at work with your education or your project. Taking some time to have fun will do you a world of good.)
Its words resonate with you. Sure, youâve been busy with catching up on school and the gaps in your game, but youâve done some fun things the last few weeks, right?
(No, we are afraid you have not.)
âDamn,â you mutter. âGuess I should change that.â You glance down at the briefcase in your hand. âWell, we have twenty mil of Lexâs money in here. How about have a night out in Gotham?â
(We agree wholeheartedly,â it exclaims, its voice full of joy and anticipation. (We look forward to seeing what you have planned.)
You chuckle as you change your form to your hardened mold armor and wings and take flight into Metropolisâ night sky. Fortunately for you, itâs a quiet night in the massive city, so Superman isnât flying around, so you donât have to worry about bumping into the Man of Steel.
âI gotta say, this city looks a helluva lot better than Gotham,â you remark as you soar above the skyscrapers. âGotham looks like a giant tomb while Metropolis looks like the future.â
(Yes, we have noticed that no matter the era, the architecture of Gotham refuses to change. The city seems to be doomed to remain locked in a by-gone age. We look forward to seeing the world beyond.)
âYouâll love Goodsprings. Sure, itâs the size of a stamp compared to a behemoth like Gotham, but you can actually sit on your porch at night and not have to worry about gunshots or escaped lunatics. People actually have conversations with one another instead of telling you to fuck off.â
In a less than thirty minutes, you arrive back at Gotham and land on the roof of Wayne Manor and quietly sneak in. Jokerâs still on the loose, no doubt waiting for the perfect moment to unveil his latest sick and twisted plan, so everyoneâs out and Alfredâs stuck in the Batcave, keeping an eye on camera feeds.
You take out a few bills from the briefcase before hiding it under your mattress and heading out to the back where you keep your car parked. While Bruce has multiple cars, every single one of them is a high-end luxury car that costs way more than yours, so you didnât want to take the risk of Bruce or the others finding it and doing something to it, so you keep your car behind a large barn thatâs used to hold all the groundskeeping equipment.
As you drive off the property, you tell your phone to dial Alfred, who answers it halfway through the first ring.
âMaster Y/N, is everything alright?â
âYeah, Alfred, everythingâs fine. I was just letting you know that Iâm going out for a bit. Thought some time outside the house would do me some good.â
âWhile I agree that you need to get more, perhaps tonight isnât the best time,â he says hesitantly. âI mean, the Joker is still out there, no doubt planning another heinous act.â
Youâre touched by the manâs concern for you. Really, you are. But, with the Megamycete, you have nothing to fear.
âDonât worry, Alfred, Iâll be fine.,â you reassure him. âI promise I wonât be gone too long. Iâll just be in Amusement Mile for an hour or two.â
âStill, I wish you werenât going by yourself. Perhaps I can get one of your siblingsââ
âNo,â you cut him off. âIâm going out to have fun before I graduate, not be miserable. If I wanted to be tortured, Iâd throw myself in Arkhamâs Intensive Care Building.â
âI know why you feel that way, Master Y/N, but maybe you can give them another chance? Youâll be graduating tomorrow night and leaving after the ceremony. I just donât want you leaving us under such bad circumstances.â
You know the manâs been trying to get the Waynes to notice you, but theyâre all busy with their own lives in addition to being vigilantes at night, either fighting crime in Gotham, BlĂźdhaven, or elsewhere around the world. And when theyâre all home, theyâre spending time together, having fun that was never meant to include you. You learned that after countless times coming downstairs and seeing them, eating delicious food, laughing, watching movies, and enjoying themselves without you. After a while, you stopped going downstairs when you heard noises coming from the living room.
You donât belong here, either in the Wayne Family or in Gotham. You never did. You know it, they know it, and deep down, Alfred knows it, whether he wants to admit it or not. Youâre a Gould, not a Wayne and thereâs nothing thatâs going to change that.
âAlfred, I think the ship for us being a âhappy, loving familyâ sailed long time ago. Theyâve made it clear that thereâs no room for me in their world and I sure as hell donât want them in mine. All I want to do is go home.â
âI understand,â he says after a brief moment of silence. âI hope you have fun, Master Y/N. And please, if you get into trouble, call me straight away.â
âI will, Alfred. Iâll talk to you later.â And with that, you hang up.
You let out a sigh when the line goes dead. You hated saying things like that to the poor man, but itâs how you feel about the Waynes. Ever since you moved in, all you heard about Bruce is that heâs a caring man and a loving father, but that care and love only appears to be for those he deems worthy of it. For someone like you, a bastard born from a careless one-night stand, he has nothing but neglect and indifference.
And the same goes for the others. Theyâre all a dysfunctional hodgepodge that are saturated with so much trauma and paranoia that itâs a miracle that they havenât killed each other yet. Youâre sure if they were locked up in Arkham and studied, they could fill an entire libraryâs worth of psychological textbooks.
(You should not concern yourself with them. They have made it clear that they are not worthy of your love or forgiveness. After so many years of suffering, you are so close to breaking free from your prison. By this time tomorrow, you will be back where you belong.)
âYeah, back home. Finally.â
After thirty grueling minutes of dealing with Gothamâs traffic, you finally reach your destination: Bat Burger. As much as you hate any mention of Batman, Gothamâs cashed in on the âBat Crazeâ and inserts him into anything they can. At least the foodâs good; almost good enough to make you ignore the cartoonish Batfamily designs on all the walls. Emphasis on the almost.
âWelcome to Bat Burger,â the teenage cashier, dressed in a uniform designed around Batman, says in a monotone voice as you approach the counter. A brief look in his eyes tells you heâd rather be anywhere else right now. âHow can I bring justice to your hunger today?â
âCan I get a Batburger with ketchup, large fries, and a large Bat Cola?â
âDo you want to Jokerize those fries,â he asks as he types in your order.
âNo thanks.â You hand him a hundred dollar bill. âI donât need the change. Keep it as a tip.â
âOh,â he exclaims, the dead look in his eye gone, replaced by shock. âYou sure?â
âYeah,â you respond, happy to see such a transformation in the teen.
âThank you,â he stutters as he hands you your cup for your drink. âYour foodâll be out in a minute. Let me know if you need anything else.â
You nod as you take the cup to the drink station.
(That was quite charitable of you,) the Megamycete remarks as you fill up your cup. (Such an action is rare in this city.)
âHe looked like he needed it. I know what itâs like to be that miserable. Plus, itâs not like weâre hurting for money. If I ever run low, I still have plenty of Bruceâs secrets I can sell to Lex for a couple million.â
(Indeed. It would appear he had many of his employees working on secret projects that were not meant to be released. Perhaps such things were only meant for his nightly activities?)
âWouldnât doubt it,â you say as you sit down. âKinda surprised no oneâs figured it out. Batmanâs toys look expensive and thereâs not that many people in Gotham that could foot a bill that big other than Bruce Wayne.â
Not long after that, your order was called and you collected your fast food goodness. You practically moan as you take your first bite.
(This is quite appealing,) it says as you take another bite. (Savoring the food in real time is far batter than savoring it from the memories of the deceased.)
âIâve wanted to come here for a while,â you say as you take a few fries. âAlways saw the garbage cans full of Batburger bags when they came back from patrol. They never offered to take me and I never asked.â
(Their loss, we assure you. We can think of no better meal companion.)
âShucks,â you chuckle. âYouâre making me blush.â
After your meal, you decided to go to the arcade a few blocks away from the restaurant, eager to show the Megamycete all your favorite games. Also, with it behind you, you might be able to earn more tickets and win some of the bigger prizes. Your strideâs broken when you hear screaming, gunfire, and people running from the Gotham Arcade.
âWhatâs going on,â you ask a man as he tries to run past you.
âItâs Joker,â he exclaims, his eyes full of fear. âHeâs shooting up the place!â
He runs away as you duck into an alley and call upon the mold to form the armor youâve been using a lot lately. As you walk towards the arcade, you look through the roots and see the Bats scattered across the city, handling other crises; meaning they wouldnât be here anytime soon.
âGuess itâs up to us to save the day.â
(The Clown has added many into our archives, all of whom spent their last moments of life terrified and in pain. We think it is time he knows fear.)
You walk into the arcade and are greeted by with over a dozen bodies, all of them riddled with bullet holes.
âMy god,â you say, stepping over two teen boys who look like brothers. âThere wasnât a point to this. This is an arcade, not a bank. He just did this because he could.â
You follow the sound of gunfire until you see the Joker, dressed in his signature purple suit, shooting at a bunch of arcade cabinets.
âThis is so much fun,â he exclaims as he rips a bunch of tickets from the machines. âDonât you agree, Harley?â
âSure do, Mistah J,â his partner, clad in her usual red and black spandex and jester hat, answers as she slams her giant mallet down on a poor Whack-A-Mole machine. She bends down and rips out a bunch of tickets from the smoking husk and holds it up to Joker like some offering to an ancient god. âLook, Puddinâ, I won so many tickets!â
Itâs then the two lunatics notice your presence.
âWell, well, well,â Joker says as he pockets his ill-gotten tickets. âNot the costumed freak I was expecting.â He holds his hands up to his head. âYouâre missing the ears and everything.â
The two laugh and you roll your eyes under your mask.
âLooks like Olâ Batsy has a new brat in his nest,â she jokes. âSo, whoâre you?â
âOh, Harley, his name doesnât matter.â He pulls out his gun and points it at you. âHeâll just be another corpse.â
He fires the gun and this time, the bullet actually penetrates your armor and pierces your lower torso. You wince at the feeling of a bullet in your gut.
(It would appear the clown uses a higher caliber than the common scum of Gotham,) the Megamycete explains as it heals your body, stitching the wound closed and hardening your armor to repel the stronger bullets. (Funny how he possesses such toys after being in Arkham for so long.)
âOh, youâre a tough one, arenât you,â he says, seeing that youâre not going down. âNormally, his little birdies go down from just a little love tap. Are you sure you belong to Batman?â
Now that pisses you off. Bruce may have had a hand in bringing you into the world, but youâre not his. Youâre so pissed, in fact, that you raise your right arm and call upon a long tendril that pierces the center of the clownâs chest and pull him towards you.
âMistah J,â Harley shouts in fear as you bring Joker to your face. Sheâs obviously paralyzed by fear because she stands there, doing nothing but watching the scene unfold before her.
His pasty white chin is covered in blood as it pours from his mouth and his eyes are wide as saucers.
âNow ainât that a surprise,â he says with a chuckle, causing him to cough up blood.
âGet this through your sick and twisted head, clown,â you hiss. âIâm not Batmanâs anything. Thereâs no words in any language that can express how much I hate him.â
You twist the tendril and take pleasure in watching him wince in pain.
(He fears you more than the Bat right now. Good. You are far superior than that worm and his collection of misfits. You always were.)
You feel yourself grin at that. You are better than them, arenât you?
âAnd as much as I hate to admit it, Jason was right on how to deal with you. When you have a tumor, you donât dress up in some stupid costume and beat it until it stops being a tumor.â You lift him far above, his head almost touching the ceiling. He flails around, but your tendril holds him in place. âYou take a knife and cut it out.â
And with that, your tendril sprouts dozens of smaller ones that burst through his body, rendering it full of holes that it looks like a blood soaked piece of Swiss cheese. Said tendrils twist around until what was once the Joker is reduced to chunks of meat.
âMister J,â Harley shouts, her voice full of agony, as his remains fall to the floor, landing with a wet splat. She looks at the pile of flesh, tears streaming from her eyes before turning to you, her gaze full of hate. âYou bastard!â
She charges at you, her mallet raised and ready to strike, but you wrap her in your tendril, stopping her advance and making her drop her weapon. She struggles and as she does, she lets out loud sobs; ones were intimately familiar with. You let out similar ones when you lost your Momma and over the years youâve spent in Wayne Manor.
âYou killed my Puddinâ,â she weeps. âWhen Bats hears about this, heâll hunt you down like a damn animal! And when youâre thrown in Arkham, Iâll be waiting for ya!â
(She has a point. Batman and his flock are already looking for you and when they learn you have killed the clown, they will make finding you their top priority; they will marshal every resource at their disposal to finding your identity. Even if she cannot provide them with your identity, she presents a risk to our secrecy.)
You ponder on this as you watch Harley struggle against her bindings, her sobs now filling the arcade. You know the Megamycete is right; sheâs a loose end you canât afford, especially when youâre so close to going home. Plus, you know with Joker gone, Harley has no one to control her and with how racked with grief over the loss of her âlove,â sheâs a huge risk to everyone on Gotham.
You decide the risks are too great and command a smaller tendril to emerge from the one holding Harley, have it wrap itself around her neck, and quickly snap it, the noise it makes ringing in your ears like a gunshot. You release her from your grip and she tumbles to the floor, lifeless.
(It had to be done,) it assures you. (She represented a threat not just to you, but to the rest of the city. There is no telling how many people would have been hurt the next time she broke free from the asylumâs confines. Plus, the influence of the clown would have stayed with her, even after his death. She would most likely never have returned to what she once was. The rest of her life would have been spent mourning over the clown, inflicting pain onto the innocent, and escaping from and being returned to the asylum. You showed her mercy.)
You hear the words and in some way, they make sense, but right now, you donât feel like you showed mercy. Youâve heard of the Tragedy of Doctor Harleen Quinzel, everyone in Gotham has at one point or another; the story of a poor psychiatrist new to Arkham who had been prayed upon by a manipulative mass murderer, turning her into his demented partner in crime and cutting a bloody swath across Gotham every time they escaped, leaving behind many orphans, widows, and corpses in their wake. She had spent years listening to other peopleâs problems and for once, wanted someone to listen to her, to make her feel like she was important.
In many ways, you can relate. Maybe in another life, you two couldâve been friends, wallowing together in your shared misery.
Just then, you learn from the roots that the Bats have been informed of the Jokerâs appearance and are now on their way here to capture hm, unaware that youâd already beaten them to the punch.
âLetâs go,â you say, moving quickly. âWeâre done here.â
In no time flat, youâre back to your car and out of the area before the Bats showed up.
âSorry, buddy, but it looks like we may have to take a rain check on that night out.)
(We understand. And you should not feel guilty because of your actions. It is thanks to you that not only many will be able to sleep peacefully in their beds, but many beyond this mortal realm will finally know peace. While many threats to Gotham remain, its largest one has finally been put down.)
âYeah, I guess.â
(It is also worth noting that we have only been joined for a short time, you have accomplished much more than Batman has the last two decades.)
That actually makes you feel a little better. Yeah, Bruce has been doing this for years and Gothamâs still a hellhole. In the span of a singe night, you make it visibly more safer. And to top it all off, heâll be racking his brain trying to find out who the hell killed him and heâll have no idea it was you, his forgotten firstborn son.
âThat does make me feel a little better. Thanks.â
âOk, when you find out who did this, can you please tell me so I can end them a thank you card before you lock em up,â Jason says as they watch what remains of the Joker being collected into a large evidence bag by GCPD while Harleyâs body is placed on a gurney and covered by a sheet before being wheeled out.
âYou know, I hate to say it,â Jim says as he dismisses a detective. âBut I think this is going to make the city way safer. Hell, the mayor may want to offer whoever did this a key to the city.â
âIt doesnât matter if all crime in Gotham stops because of this,â Bruce responds. âIt was done the wrong way and when I find out who did this, Iâll deliver them to Arkham myself. Iâll take Jokerâs remains back to the Batcave, see if I can find any clues on the identity of his killer. Iâll give them back to you along with my findings.â
âThanks,â the police commissioner responds as he takes the bag from a forensic investigator and hands it to him.
âCome on, B,â Jason whines as they leave the arcade. âJoker was a piece of shit and it was only gonna end with his death. Whoever this person is, do they really deserve to rot in Arkham over someone like him?â
âWhoever this person is, they took the law into their hands.â
âPot meet kettle,â Jason mutters, but Bruce doesnât acknowledge the remark.
âAnd this person clearly has powers. If they go off the deep end, thereâs no telling what will happen. We need to find them before something happens and someone gets hurt.â
Finding this person just became their top priority.
This is it, the night youâve been waiting for: graduation. Itâs funny, when you first woke up this morning, you could feel every second of the day tick as you waited for the graduation ceremony. The only thing that made the time go by fast was you thinking about the conversation you overheard in the kitchen this morning.
Bruce and Tim talking about spending the day at their computers, analyzing every camera feed in Amusement Mile to look for whoever killed Joker. You had to bite your tongue to keep you from laughing. Here you are, the person theyâre chomping at the bit to catch, and they have no idea youâre in the other room. You should be happy that they finally want something to do with you, but you know itâs only because you sent Joker to hell, something Bruce shouldâve done years ago.
And when you heard that Tim was skipping the graduation ceremony to aid in patrolling? You immediately did a cartwheel down the hall. Not only will you finally be free from Gotham, but you wonât have to share the spotlight with Tim and risk catching their attention, though they probably wouldâve had no idea who you were. Alfred tried to get Tim to reconsider getting Bruce to attend, but when those two are obsessing over something, itâs impossible to tear them away from it. The butler tried to tell Bruce that he had another son graduating, but the man left before the sentence could be complete, stating he had work to do.
At this point, it doesnât even phase you. You know theyâve practically forgotten your existence and you couldnât care less. You have everything you need to go back home and start your new life, you donât need them for anything.
âMaster Y/N, are you sure you donât want me to call master Bruce and have him attend your graduation,â the butler fusses over your cap and gown for the umpteenth time. âAs you father, he should be here to see one of the most important moments in your life.â
âItâs fine, Alfred, I donât need him here. Frankly, with the way heâs acted over the years, Iâm glad heâs not here. Same with Tim.â
The butler looks at you and you grimace at your remark. Ever since becoming the Megamyceteâs host, youâve noticed changes in your behavior. Where once you use to keep comments like that to yourself, you know say them in front of Alfred, unafraid for his reaction. Or how you use to always speak in a barely audible whisper for fear of being overheard by the Waynes, now you talk to Alfred at a volume that could easily attract unwanted attention. And youâre certain heâs noticed your change, too. God knows that man is aware of everything that goes on in his house.
(It is because you no longer have that fear. Before, you were a timid little thing, afraid of being seen by a predator lying in wait. Now? You are the hunter. They canât hurt you anymore.)
Alfred opens his mouth to day something, but one of the teachers calls for all seniors to make their way to the field, signaling the beginning of the ceremony. He heads to the stands while you follow your fellow seniors to the field where youâre herded in alphabetical order. Once the teacher was satisfied with the order, she typed on her phone and the graduation music started playing from the speakers at the top of the stands.
As you follow in line, you look up to see Alfred in the front row, holding his phone up, no doubt intending to take several pictures and record just as many videos. You smile at the man, thankful to have him here on this important night. Itâs then you think about your Momma and how sheâd be cheering for you so hard, everyone could hear her. You feel something slide down your face and realize youâre crying. This is an important day in your life and youâre missing an important person in your life.
(She would be so proud of you. If your memories are anything indication of her character, she would give anything to be here right now. While the butler can never replace her, he is an acceptable stand-in.)
âYeah,â you whisper as you take your seat near the front of the stage set up in the middle of the field. âHe is. And Iâm gonna miss him like hell.â
While youâre overjoyed to leave Gotham in your rear view and never step foot in it ever again, youâll really miss Alfred. The man has been your rock since day one, celebrating your birthday which also happens to be the day of your Mommaâs death. He held you while you cried and was your only company in the lonely halls of Wayne Manor.
Maybe you can hire him as your butler? Your smaller house would no doubt be much easier to clean than that behemoth of a mansion. Plus, Alfred is way more than people like the Waynes deserve.
After an eternity, the valedictorian finishes his speech and takes his place at up front, which is when the headmaster walks up to the podium and begins to call the students to come up and receive their diplomas. With each name called, you feel chest begin to tighten. This is the first time in years that so many eyes will be on you. What if you fall flat on your face while walking? Or try to shake the headmasterâs hand with your left instead of your right? Orâ
(Relax,) the Megamycete says, bringing you out of your thoughts. (All will be fine. When your name is called, you will rise, walk with a level of pride none of your peers could ever hope to match, accept your diploma with such grace the headmaster will b in total awe, and walk back to your seat with the same pride as before. You are better than any of these children and you will make them know it.)
Hearing those words instantly makes you relax, your the knot that had been building up in your chest untangling, allowing you to breathe again.
âThanks,â you say, taking a much needed deep breath. âGlad to know you think so highly of me.â
(We speak only the truth. We have seen the lives and memories of countless people over the past four centuries and not a single one holds a candle to you. You possess much potential and now that we are joined, we know you will unleash that potential and the entire world will be in awe of it.)
Wow. You actually have no idea how to respond to that.
(Pay attention, now. You will be called soon.)
Itâs then you realize the headmaster is now on the Fs, almost to the Gs.
Thereâs three people ahead of you.
Then two.
Then one.
ThenâŚ
âY/N Gould.â
This is it, your biggest moment in Gotham Academy. You stand up and walk with the grace the Megamycete said you would, accept your diploma from the headmaster with your left hand and shake with your right, and walk back to your seat. As you do, you see Alfred, a smile stretched across his face and cheering your name as he continues to hold his phone, probably recording a video just before your name was called.
(Excellent, Y/N,) the Megamycete praises as you sit back down. (We offer our most sincere congratulations on your triumph.)
You stare down at the piece of paper down in your hands and you while the evidence is right there in black and white, it still doesnât feel real. Youâre actually in awe of the fancy kind of paper Gotham Academy uses to print its diplomas, with its Coleen gilded edges, bold ink, beautiful calligraphy, and soft feel.
Hell, Alfred may fight you to keep it so he can frame it and mount it somewhere in Wayne Manor.
After that, the rest of the ceremony seems to speed up, the last of the names being called, the headmaster deeming all of you graduates of Gotham Academy, and the graduating class being told to gather behind the chairs for the moment every senior looks forward to: the Cap Throw. You follow your fellow graduates with bated breath, eager to throw your cap and complete your graduation experience.
âOn three,â the valedictorian yells from the center of the crowd. âOne! Two! Three!â
You eagerly toss your cap with everyone else, your cheers and laughs joining everyone elseâs. You watch with joy as the caps soar above you all and begin to float back down to the field, your eyes tracking your cap, which you had decorated with paintings (the Megamycete allowing you to make them flawlessly) of the team you beat Cynthia from PokĂŠmon Platinum with: Infernape, Luxray, Staraptor, Floatzel, Lucario, and Garchomp (you had no idea so many used the same team before you discovered the internet).
You collect you cap while so many try to find theirs and had towards the exit to meet Alfred.
âCongratulations, my boy,â he greets you, his wide smile still adorning his face, before bringing you into a tight hug.
âThan you, Alfred,â you respond, returning the hug.
When you separate, he flags down a passing man. âPardon me, sir, would you be so kind as to take a picture of the two of us?â
âSure,â the man says, taking his phone and aiming at you and taking the picture.
âThank you, good sir,â the butler says as he takes his phone back.
He types on his phone and not even a second later, you feel your phone buzz in your pocket beneath your gown, indicating he sent you the picture.
âIâm so proud of you, Master Y/N. Youâve certainly earned this.â
âThank you, Alfred. And not just for this, but for everything.â
You two leave the field and he follows you to the gym so you can return your gown and once you do, you two make your way to your car, which is when you realize this is the part of the evening where you two say your goodbyes and you leave for Goodsprings while he returns to Wayne Manor. And the sweet moment youâve been waiting years for now turns bittersweet. Youâve looked forward to this moment ever since you started high school and while youâre ecstatic to finally leave this godforsaken city, you hate that you have to leave Alfred behind.
âMaster Y/N,â he says, breaking the tense silence. âI know youâve been waiting for this moment for so long, but do you have to leave right now? Maybe your return to Nevada can wait until morning? You really shouldnât be driving so late.â
âWe can put it off for as long as we want, still wonât change the outcome.â
âI know,â the poor man sighs. âBut still, itâs over forty hours from here to Goodsprings.â
âIâll be fine, Alfred. Really. Iâll be super careful. Iâll stop at a motel a few hours from here, take regular breaks, stop at restaurants to eat, and Iâll be there before you know it and in one piece.â
âI just wish I could convince you to stay. Iâll miss you, terribly. The manor wonât be the same without you.â
âIâll miss you, too, Alfred.â
You two pull each other into another hug.
âPromise me that youâll call me if you run into any trouble, be it on the road or in Nevada.â
âI will.â
âAnd that youâll try to visit whenever you can. Iâll arrange for Master Bruceâs jet to come and get you, you just say the word.â
âIâll try.â
Youâre lying. Youâre lying and both of you know it. But, neither of you bring it up.
âAnd promise me youâll take care of yourself. I didnât raise you for over ten years just for you to end up in the hospital just because you didnât feed yourself.â
âI will,â you laugh. You know heâs joking, he taught you everything he knows about cooking, cleaning, and housekeeping. That, combined with the Megamyceteâs records, you have everything you need to keep your house together.
âI just wish your father and siblings were here.â You just did manage to fight off the flinch at the mention of those assholes. âThis is an important moment of your life and they should be here to celebrate it with you.â
âI know you do, Alfred,â you respond, thankful that youâre still hugging so he canât see the face youâre making at the thought of them being here, insulting you and making you feel like graduating somehow made you feel like a failure.
Finally, you two pull apart and with one last goodbye and promise to be careful, you get into your car, the backseat covered by boxes that couldnât be placed in the trunk. When you woke up this morning, you packed your computer, video games, books, and other things that you refused to leave behind at Wayne Manor, your Mommaâs pen sitting in your pocket as you refused to part with it. Sure, there were some things were left behind and while Alfred told you repeatedly he could arrange for them to be delivered to your house, you told him that anything you left behind wasnât important and could be thrown away.
You didnât leave much behind, some stuff like a few books you hadnât read in years, a bunch of notebook paper with stupid ideas for video games that you had years and threw away when you realized no one in their right mind would play them, and an old journal you kept when you first move to Gotham. You archived every major event leading up to Damianâs arrival in those pages, which is when you finally filled it up. You briefly thought about keeping it, but decided against it. You had your stay at Wayne Manor burned into your memory and werenât eager to have been more reminders around you. Plus, youâre about to start your new life, so thereâs no need to carry it around. Maybe you can start keeping a new journal?
You start up your car, put it into reverse, and when you backed up enough, put it into drive and wave at Alfred as you leave the parking lot and follow your GPS to Goodsprings. Thatâs when your phone finally connects to your radio and starts playing music, Hollow from FFVII Remake, playing at just the right volume.
âWow,â you chuckle as the music begins. âTalk about great timing.â
(We agree. This song is about heading into the unknown with hope; perfect for the start of your new life. It is as if fate itself is smiling down upon you.)
âSeems like it. You with me, buddy?â
(Every step of the way. Until the very end.)
And with that, you pick up speed as you get onto the interstate.
Alfred watches you drive off and only when youâre out of sight does he finally shed a tear. To see Master Y/N leave is one of the most difficult moments of his life.
He understands, of course. Not only did you leave much behind after the tragic and unexpected loss of your mother, but Master Wayne and the children had given you zero reasons to stay. In fact, theyâd given you a million reasons to leave.
But he canât let you go. Not his favorite member of the family.
Heâd never admit it to anyone, but out of everyone in the Wayne Family, he cared for you the most. You were raised by a wonderful, loving woman who knew how to properly raise a child and didnât skulk about at night, battling with criminals night after night. You had a normal life and knew what life was like outside of being a vigilante, bringing a much needed balance to the manor.
You were a delight to raise, always saying please and thank you, offering to help around the manor, and carrying on pleasant conversations that were the highlight of his day. And if the family would take the time to get to know you, theyâd come to the same conclusion he did many years ago.
However, as brilliant as everyone in the family is, they can also be equally foolish. Too wrapped up in their civilian and vigilante lives to see the gift they had been given, but spurred for years. And now, youâre gone.
But not for long. You belong here, with your family, and by God heâll make sure you know it, your father knows it, and your siblings know it. One way or another, heâll bring your father to his senses, and when that day comes, heâll make him go to you and beg for your forgiveness, even if he has to get on his hands and knees. And after that, your father will bring you back home, where youâll be lavished in the love they shouldâve shown you from the beginning.
Heâll do whatever it takes to bring you back home, where you belong. He doesnât care what he has to do or how long it takes, heâll make sure you come back to the place where you belong. And when you, youâll be showered with so much love that youâll never want to leave ever again.
A/N: I got lucky this week. I was going to have 4 tests this week (2 regular tests and 2 midterms), but a professor I have for two classes got sick and cancelled, pushing the tests for next Monday and Tuesday. With only one midterm left and a study guide basically matching the test, I had plenty of free time to make this chapter. Hope you all enjoyed it!
Tag List: @space1crow @bat1212 @minkyungseokie @nosyrobin @bunbunboysworld @kitty-from-daaaa-voidddd @feral-childs-word @phoenixgurl030 @soriansick @hellcatsworld @prettyboys247 @paolexsstuff @c0l1fl0r @starryperson @kore-of-the-underworld @kiarst @vanessa-boo @moxiemy @greatwhisperspaper @tatsuri-zomushiki @starsdotalk @luna57765 @jsprien213 @lizz-lrm @chericia @lunaluz432 @orbitingtraveler @roseytheteacup @meechibee @bellethesleepypotato @exactlynumberonekryptonite @marsmabe @ellaprime7
#male reader#yandere batfamily#batfamily#batfamily x male reader#batman#yandere barbara gordon#yandere cassandra cain#yandere bruce wayne#yandere damian wayne#yandere dick grayson#yandere batfam#yandere dc#yandere jason todd#yandere tim drake#yandere stephanie brown#batfam#dc x male reader#from gold to mold
575 notes
¡
View notes
Text
we need to talk about Inprnt.com
Following a really good post with more screenshots and evidence by @dynasoar5 i'm going to talk about my own experiences with @inprnt and why I am about to put my shop on indefinite hiatus from Monday the 14th of August.
First of all I'll say that since starting my print shop last year it has been a significant help to me financially - I was able to not worry about affording car insurance or motor tax (together commonly over a thousand euro) when I bought my first car, for example. I am immeasurably grateful to anyone who chose to buy one and I treasure all the pictures I've been sent of my prints hanging up on people's walls. Right now they are displayed in a real (if small) art exhibition in my home town.
(top right print is not from inprnt though)
They're great prints. Never had any complaints about them. But here's what's going on behind the scenes.
Earlier this year, around March or April, Inprnt sales started increasing in regularity. I'd made as much as $600 a week during previous sales when I made proper promo posts here, but with this increase in regularity, I felt that I couldn't make promo posts every single week. And then one day, I'm not sure when tbh, the sale just never ended. It just didn't stop having that "Ending soon! 15% off your order" banner at the top of the site. Right now it says "Final Hours: $5 Worldwide shipping and save up to 35% off your order!" and not even for a second do I believe in this final hours bullshit. It's been 'final hours' for weeks now. Months, even.
Why is this a problem? Well, how tf am I meant to make a promo post for a sale that is always "ending soon!!" and then never ends. One week it'll say "this weekend only!!" and then when the weekend is over, the sale banner just changes its wording and the sale doesn't end. I can't promo this, it makes me look like a liar and a skeevy salesman by association! It makes the site look like it's 1 week from crashing and burning, and the site owners are just scrabbling to suck as much money from artists as possible before they drown.
And they are sucking money from us. To peel back the curtain, Inprnt money can only be transferred to my paypal account 30 days after the sale is made, just in case the order is cancelled and refunded. This means I used to make one withdrawal every couple of months, when there was enough build-up of money to make it worthwhile. It also forbids withdrawing any sum under $50 btw. I would make a withdrawal request and then, after a 10 business day wait, it would reach my Paypal account.
Not anymore! The past few withdrawals have taken over a month to complete. They are straight up keeping my earnings from me for longer the agreed period. This was my last fulfilled withdrawal:
Note the date.
Almost two months.
And here is the latest withdrawal request that still has not been fulfilled.
It's coming up on 1 month and if the pattern continues, it could literally be November or December by the time I fully clear all sales.
So what's going to happen to my print shop? Because my art is currently being exhibited with a QR code linking to the shop, I can't close the shop this week. Instead I will close it on Monday the 14th of August, next week. That means that on the 14th of September, I can withdraw all of the remaining money without having any left over. My account balance will go to 0 and stay there. Although I'll de-list my prints I will leave my account there, because at the end of the day I don't want to leave Inprnt. It still offers the best artist margins and as I'm now unemployed after graduating, the additional support is such a load off my mind. So this is a chance to wait and see - if they improve their services, I'll happily re-open.
It's a big deal to me because selling prints is sort of my ideal life as an artist. I never had the attention span or self-discipline for commission work and I found that it left me creatively stagnant. I always want to try new things, new concepts and ideas, and being able to think "yeah, people will like this as a print" while I experiment is honestly very reassuring. And I know that in going on hiatus, it'll break a lot of "buy a print" links in my circulating posts. Oh well lmao. If you want to buy a print right now - go ahead, it might be your last opportunity. Another way to support me would be to check out my ko-fi for once-off donations or some nice sketchbooks/comics/book samples you can buy, or subscribing to my Patreon.
As of right now, Inprnt owes me $381 (the unfulfilled request submitted above for $186.60 and my current standing balance of $194.80 which takes 30 days from each transaction to clear).
#it's so god damn insulting u know. even redbubble threw its shitty payouts directly into my paypal asap#inprnt
2K notes
¡
View notes
Text
I feel like people often donât talk about the experiences of disabled people who have caretakers because so much of the conversation is about usânot including us.
I receive in home care for 30 hours a week (+ 4 hours/week for respite). This is paid for by Medicaid (state insurance). Outside of paid hours, my primary caretakers care for me unpaid and assist me most of the time. Iâm very rarely left alone due to my high support needs. Often, when I am left alone, I am completely bedridden or at minimum housebound. I have frequent emergency life threatening health problems, falls, and serious injuries even with support in place, and these things significantly increase when Iâm on my own.
Iâm extremely lucky that my paid caretakers are my partner, my sister (the only family member I have regular contact with, Iâm estranged from the rest of my immediate family and most of my extended family) and my best friend.
I used to have agency staffing which was horrible for me and borderline traumatic. At several points, before doing the self directed care option (which allows me to choose my own staff, hire and train them myself and dictate hours for them), I opted to not have any staffing. I was regularly in the emergency room. I canât drive, so I was having to walk and if I was lucky enough to be able to take the bus on occasion or get a ride from a Facebook acquaintance, they were few and far in between. I donât have family support, and even my sister who is supportive wasnât living in the state at the time and doesnât have a car most of the time.
And before I could even choose which staffing option, even though medically it had been deemed essential for me to have in home care, even though my insurance covered it, I had to wait several years (I was 18 when I was approved) until I was 21 to qualify to start. The reason why: I was legally an âadult disabled childâ because of my high support needs (which is funny because I STILL donât have SSI at age 24) and thus legally unable to consent to my own care plan. I needed a blood relative to consent, and that same blood relative (who had to have proof of such!) couldnât care for me. At the time, my sister was the only person who couldâve been my caregiver and also she is the only verifiable blood relative I have contact with for safety reasons, and my only relative on this side of the USA.
The first business day after my 21st birthday I immediately got things set up to get in home care.
This is out of date, I get assistance with more than just these highlighted ADL (activities of daily living) tasks now.
In short: my day-to-day life is entirely dependent on others.
And thereâs power imbalances that exist between me and my caregivers, even with my current caregivers being amazing and anti-ableist. They will always exist. We talk about the power dynamics of me being dependent on them for my survival, and how heavy that weight can be for each of us.
Having caregivers often means that accessibility is extra difficultâ Iâve been told straight up multiple times that I canât have assistance from my caregivers to help me change in a changing room when weâre out shopping. That they canât go into the bathroom with me, that they canât help me get un/dressed during appointments, that they canât come into spaces with me.
Iâve been denied access to psychiatric care because I canât do my daily living tasks (ADLs- the highlighted items) independently. And when Iâm in a hospital or emergency room, I canât have my in home workers be paid to care for me, thereâs an expectation that the nursing staff at the hospital will do it. Even though my caregivers were specifically trained to learn my body and needs for weeks and have been working with me for years. I have severe cPTSD and showering in front of a stranger is something I cannot do. I would rather fall or faint or get injured or just not shower than deal with that. But Iâm expected to just let anyone have access to my body just because Iâm physically disabled and need support.
When I faint/fall/get injured/have life threatening health issues arise while Iâm not clothed, or when Iâm otherwise vulnerable, Iâm supposed to let strangers just touch me however they want to. I have to show them my chest (for my cardiac care) and let them poke and examine me. I canât object without losing access to vital care.
I have agency. I have rights. I have autonomy. I deserve to be able to exercise these things.
#chronically couchbound#disability#disabled#disabled pride#cripple punk#cripplepunk#disability pride#high support needs#ableism#professional caregiver#activities of daily living#ADL#medicaid#healthcare#in home care#home care#home care aids#nothing about us without us
1K notes
¡
View notes
Text
Compare Auto Insurance Rates & Quotes - Find the Best Deals
Are you tired of overpaying for your car insurance? In this comprehensive guide, weâll explore the importance of comparing auto insurance rates and provide you with the tools and strategies to find the best deals on car insurance coverage that meets your needs and budget. By the end of this article, youâll have a thorough understanding of the factors that influence insurance rates, how toâŚ
View On WordPress
#Affordable car insurance options#auto insurance quotes#Best auto insurance deals#Compare car insurance rates#Vehicle insurance comparison
0 notes
Note
iâm so excited for your request event eek!! :DDD if you ever get the time, maybe micheal kaiser, but like post marriage? :O
ââ AIRPORT VISIT
Synopsis: You pick up your husband from the airport, finally reuniting with him after his long trip abroad.
Event Masterlist
Pairing: Kaiser x Reader
Chapter Word Count: 1.5k
Content Warnings: married couple, lots of banter, talks about insurance??, kaiser hates blue lock but he has to secure the bag i fear đ, probably ooc because this is an established relationship so heâs kind of sweetâŚconsider it off screen development LMAO
A/N: hello my dear iâm so sorry this took me a sec to respond to!! kaiser is such a funky guy hehe i tried my best writing him in this type of scenarioâŚi hope you like it đ
Additional: part of my 500 follower event! see the event description and rules to make a request of your own. now closed!
The airport was colder than you had expected, and you wrapped the sweater you had stolen from Michaelâs closet tighter around your shoulders, hiding the lower half of your face in it as you stared at the customs area. Your eyelids were heavy and threatened to droop shut entirely, but you had promised that you would come pick him up, and you didnât want his first sight of you after almost a month to be you dozing off on your feet.
Shuffling over to a bench and suppressing a yawn when you realized it might still be a bit of time before he came out, you tucked your legs up next to you and leaned your head against the cool white wall beside you. Given the late hour, the airport was all but deserted, or at least as close to deserted as a place so constantly active could be. The steady drone of the air conditioning â which you wished they would turn down! â was mind-numbing, and despite yourself, you thought that it wouldnât be so bad if you just closed your eyes for a moment. You wouldnât sleep, you would only rest them so that you appeared cheery and bright when Michael finally arrivedâŚ
The next thing you knew, there was a hand on your shoulder, shaking you gently awake. You shot to your feet, panic shooting through you at the thought that you were being attacked or something, but when you realized your âassailantâ was none other than your dear husband, who you had spent hours waiting for, you relaxed.
âYou shouldâve just stayed home,â he said, clicking his tongue at you, reaching out to ruffle your hair. His bags sat by his feet, and yawning, you picked one up. âHey, is that my sweater?â
âMhm,â you said as you traipsed towards where you had parked your car. âI like this one. I canât believe I havenât taken it before.â
He made a face at you. âStop stealing my clothes.â
âThereâs nothing stopping you from taking my things, if youâre bristling at the unfairness,â you said, unlocking the car and opening the trunk, helping him heft his things into the back to hasten the process.
âNo thanks. Your clothes are ugly; thatâs why you always have to take mine, right?â he said, pressing the button so that the trunk would shut. You yawned again, blinking your eyes open and shut a few times to clear your vision, shaking your head as you did so.
âYouâre the one who buys half of them, so what does that say about your taste?â you said. âYours are just more comfortable.â
âI can start buying you menâs clothes instead, since you insist on wearing them all of the time,â he said, snatching the keys from out of your pocket and sliding into the driverâs side before you could protest.
âWell, but itâs not the same,â you said. âAlso, what are you doing? The whole point of me coming to pick you up was so that you didnât have to drive and all. Arenât you tired?â
âI just slept for an entire plane ride,â he said. âIâm as energetic as Ness when he gets his hands on espresso. You, on the other hand, will probably crash this car if youâre allowed to drive it, and then weâd have to deal with insurance, so Iâd really prefer it if you just get in the passenger seat and leave this to me, because our agent is a bitch.â
âSheâs not that bad,â you said.Â
âEvery day that I donât have to call her is a good day,â he said. âNow, are you coming, or should I just leave you here?â
You scoffed even as you ducked into the passenger seat and put on your seatbelt. âYou shouldâve left me behind. I couldâve caught a ride with Ness. Iâm sure heâd be less mean about it.â
âHa, ha,â Michael said. âThat was so funny. Did you recently update my will to make yourself my sole benefactor? Because if so, youâre in luck. I just died. Died of laughter. Iâm dead now, which means youâre a rich woman, Mrs. Kaiser.â
âShut up, you overdramatic oaf,â you said.
âYouâre so rude to the man who just made you wealthy,â he said, taking your hand and holding it to his lips as he pulled out of the airport parking lot. âIâm worth more than Ness. Donât even joke about going with him again. He wonât give you anything when he dies. Youâll be left broke and unhappy.â
âRight, because your net worth is why I agreed to marry you,â you said. âNo other reason.â
âThat combined with my good looks and my amazing talent, Iâm sure,â he said.
âYour humility was only a bonus,â you said. He dropped your hand and shot you a mock glare.
âJust remember whoâs in control of this car! What if I crash it? Then youâll regret everything!â he said.
âYouâll regret it more,â you said. âIâll make you call the insurance agent.â
âWhat if Iâm on my deathbed?â he said. âWhat if Iâm bleeding out at the scene of the crash? What would you do then, huh?â
âIâd use your phone to call an ambulance, and Iâd use mine to call the agent so that you could talk to her while we waited for help to come,â you said.
âWow,â he muttered. âCold. We havenât seen each other in a month and this is how youâre treating me.â
âI did miss you,â you said, resting your temple against the cool glass of the window. âI wish you didnât have to go all of the way to Japan every year to help out with that program.â
He sighed. âBelieve me, if they paid even a dollar less, I wouldnât. I hate those stupid Blue Lock bastards, and every time I have to interact with them, I lose ten years off of my lifespan. â
âOh, no,â you said. âRemind me when youâre about to run out completely. Iâll update your will, just in case.â
âHilarious,â he deadpanned.
âReally, though, is there anyone you donât complain about talking to?â you said. âAt this rate, youâre not going to have very many years left at all. Will you leave me a widow so soon?â
He gave you a charming grin. âI like talking to you. Thatâs why I married you.
âDid those Blue Lock boys teach you about this kind of thing alongside soccer?â you said. âI donât remember you being quite so smooth when you left. Was it Yoichi Isagi? You mentioned him a lot in your texts.â
âY/N,â Michael said gravely. âI would strip naked, swim in a vat of acid, and then sleep with Don Lorenzo on a bed of nails before I would ever take advice from Isagi.â
âPoor Lorenzo,â you said, laughing at the mental image of what he was describing. âWhyâd you throw him under the bus like that?â
âWe took the same plane back from Japan,â he explained. âHe had a layover here, so you could say heâs just a victim of being in the wrong place at the wrong time.â
âJeez,â you said. âAlright, I get it. You just thought about me so frequently and fondly that you came up with these lines all on your own.â
âExactly,â he said smugly. âI donât need stupid Isagi to tell me how to impress you. Only I know how to do that, anyways, so why would I ask someone else for help?â
âSorry for the suggestion,â you said as he pulled into the garage of our home. âAnd thank you for driving. If only your flight had been a little bit earlier! I really would have driven you back.â
âNext time,â he said, patting your head as he helped you out of the car. âOr I can call a taxi and you can just stay home from now on, so that neither of us are inconvenienced.â
âI wanted to do something nice for you,â you said with a pout, helping him bring his things inside. He smiled slightly, kissing your forehead with the utmost of delicacy.
âJust you being here is nice enough for me,â he said. âDonât put yourself through so much trouble, okay? The knowledge that youâre waiting at home for me makes me happier than anything else ever could.â
âOkay,â you said reluctantly. âIf you say so.â
âI do,â he said. âLetâs get you to bed now, alright?â
âYou, too,â you said.
âI will, but on one condition,â he said.
âWhat?â you said.
âYou take my sweater off,â he said. âItâs mine, seriously!â
âLooks like youâre sleeping on the sofa tonight, then,â you said.
âY/N,â he whined, wrapping his arms around you and squeezing tightly, resting his chin on your shoulder. âYou have me now. Arenât I much warmer and better than a sweater?â
âHm,â you said. âYeah, I guess so.â
âYou guess so?â he said. âFine. I guess Iâll just see myself back to Japan, then.â
âDonât do that,â you said. âItâs too cold without you here, and lonely, too. Iâll even take the sweater off if youâll stay.â
âYouâre so unfair,â he said. âHow am I supposed to say no to you? You can keep the stupid sweater.â
âAnd you?â you said. He pinched your cheek affectionately.
âI suppose you can keep me, too.â
#kaiser x reader#kaiser x y/n#kaiser x you#michael kaiser#bllk x reader#bllk#blue lock#reader insert#married couple#m1ckeyb3rry milestone#m1ckeyb3rry writes
178 notes
¡
View notes
Text
⌠MARLEY AND ME âăELLIE WILLIAMSăâ CHAPTER TWO
pairing: modern!ellie williams x single mom!reader
summary: youâre a single mom just doing the best that she can to make ends meet. ellie canât help but think that you're the kindest, most beautiful girl that sheâs ever met. compared to taking care a little girl that's in her terrible twos, coming to terms with the fact that youâre a lesbian is a walk in the park. awkward first encounters, ellieâs broken gay-dar, and her overwhelming urge to take care of the care-giver. . . the road to domesticity is a long one, but itâs well worth the pining that it takes to get there.
warnings: hella SMUT! in future chapters, eventual substance use, no use of y/n (you have nicknames/petnames), the reader is marleyâs biological mother, talk of coming to terms with ones sexuality, mention of a shitty baby daddy ( though there is no co-parenting between them), ellie is a total girl mom, lots and lots of fluff, ellie is an anxious dork in this fic, reader is broke but happy, ellie takes pride in being a provider, this is going to be a multi-part fic, ellie is an absolute simp for the reader since chapter one and will remain her #1 fan.
⏜ previous chapter | next chapter â¤
There were a thousand different ways to tell someone that you loved them.
For you, it could be found in the way that your hands shook with exhaustion after a long night at work as you reached up for the off-brand box of mac nâ cheese. You had your calculator pulled up on your phone, trying to make sure that you had just enough in your bank account for a week's worth of groceries.
Or, it could be found in the simple way that you prepared your daughterâs breakfast in the mornings. Half dead from working eight hours at the little diner, located right off of the interstate. After what felt like a never ending shift dealing with drunk patrons, the first thing you did after getting just four hours of sleep was make your daughter a bowl of oatmeal. You fixed hers the way she liked it- with fresh bananas and strawberries. Fresh fruit was expensive though. A luxury. It was something that you didnât see yourself worthy of, not when your precious daughter loved it so much. So you stuck to a dash of milk and a few sprinkles of brown sugar, wolfing it down after going without dinner.
You were a single parent, and while your mom and step dad loved watching her while you were at work, you felt incredibly guilty that you didnât have the extra funds to pay them back for their hard work. You had rent, power, and water to worry about. Plus your insurance bill was incredibly high because of your age, even despite the fact that you drove a car that was nearly as old as you were.
You said âI love youâ every time you fed your daughter before you fed yourself. You couldnât remember the last time you had eaten a meal while it was still hot off of the stove.
You said âI love youâ when you didnât complain. You refused to be defeated or beaten down solely because you were a young single mother. You didnât want Marley to remember her childhood that way. So you bought her cheap toys to keep her happy. You let her wipe sticky little hands all over the few articles of clothing that you owned. You let her lay in the bed with you when she couldnât go to sleep, despite the fact that you barely got any shut eye yourself. You carried the weight of her on your shoulders and never complained.
And above all else, you didnât regret her for a second.
Not when her father abandoned you to do god knows what. Not when you gave birth with just your mother in the room. Not when your lights got cut off. Not when you lost most of your friends, because what young adult wants to hang out with a two year old all the time?
Marley was your pride and joy despite all of it.
So you tossed the box of mac nâ cheese into the cart when she started to reach for it and added the cost of it onto your calculator.
You looked down at your phone as you pushed the buggy aimlessly forward, not sure what else you needed to pick up. You stuck your hand into the front pocket of your overalls, leafing around for your shopping list.
âUh. . . long time no see.â
Your head snapped up as you heard the familiar raspy voice in front of you. Your stomach did a few flips as you took in her tight fitting boot cut jeans and gray tank top. Her nose wasnât the only thing that was splattered with freckles, but her revealed shoulders as well. Ellie had looked good in her work clothes, but there was something extra attractive about the way that she dressed in her free time. It was all about comfort and mobility. She didnât need loads of jewelry, or even makeup for that matter, to be beautiful. You suddenly felt underdressed for the grocery store, hyper aware of the fact that you had only slapped on some mascara before running out of the house.
Your eyes flickered down to the basket she was holding, and you couldnât help but smile at the fact that the only thing in it was a case of beer and a few microwavable meals. Her dirty, paint covered hand tightened on the handle, and she shuffled her feet before clearing her throat.
âI know I look like hammered shi-â She caught herself, her eyes widening as she noted that Marley was with you. âPoop. Hammered poop.â She corrected, motioning over her outfit.
You brushed her off with a wave of your wrist, making a small noise of denial. If she thought that she looked bad, you didnât want to even think about how you must look in her eyes. Youâd barely had time to run a brush through your wild hair before jogging out the door.
âDo you have the day off?â You asked her, putting some of your weight onto the buggy. Your daughter started to get antsy, so you reached down into the buggy and handed her the rabbit plushie she had insisted on bringing with her, only to toss it behind her the second that the two of you started shopping.
You noticed Ellieâs eyes soften as she watched your daughter hug the small stuffed creature.
âYeah,â She looked back over at you, her eyes just as soft as they had been a second ago. Your heart began doing that funny thing. The weird pounding ache that made you feel like you were dying. âI scheduled some time off so that I could help Joel repaint the outside of his house.â
Her boots were splattered with white, and now that you were really staring at her, so was her pants. A few baby hairs were still stuck to the sides of her neck and forehead, probably from sweating in the summer sun.
âThat was nice of you.â You said simply, chewing on the inside of your lip as you tried to find something else to say.
You didnât want to make her feel uncomfortable, but it had been almost a week since you had last seen her, and she never had texted. You despised how sensitive you were, but you couldnât help but see it as some sort of rejection. Maybe she had asked for your phone number instead of just giving you hers because she never planned on reaching back out at all.
âNah, not really. He had an old Gibson lying around, so he gave it to me. Thatâs enough payment, Iâd say.â She kicked an imaginary rock on the worn linoleum floor, trying to find a way to tell you that she hadnât texted you because sheâd been afraid without coming off as a complete pussy.
Your eyebrows knit together in confusion, and you spoke before you could even think the question through. âGibson? Is that like. . . food or something?â
Ellie stood there for a second, lips parting as she stared at the confused look on your face. The longer she stared, the more embarrassed you felt.
âOh god, thatâs totally not what she was talking about.â You thought to yourself, damn near close to slapping yourself upside the head.
She had to place the basket down so that she could brace her hands onto her knees as she laughed. You had made her chuckle a few times the other day, but nothing like this. Her smile was so beautiful, her laugh so hearty, that you forgot the reason why you were embarrassed in the first place. Her laugh was as raspy as her voice was- if not more so. It was also loud. You were sure that people could hear it all throughout the grocery store, despite the loud 80âs throwback that was blasting over the speakers. You didnât mind if people could hear her, so long as they knew that you were the one to inspire this sort of reaction. Youâd happily continue to ask the dumbest questions on the planet if it meant that you got to hear her laugh like this again.
She straightened up, shaking her head a few times as she tried to take steadying breaths.
âI-Iâm sorry. . . Iâm not laughing at you. That was just- that was a really cute question.â You felt the need to look away from her green eyes. âA Gibson. Like the guitar? Ever heard of one?â
You did slap yourself upside the head, then promptly covered your face with both of your hands. âOh my god. Of course. . . Holy shit, thatâs embarrassing.â You whined.
âHey,â Ellie smiled at you again. It looked like she was really starting to come out of her shell. All it took was you embarrassing the absolute hell out of yourself. You would have done it sooner if youâd known. âNo âSâ bombs in front of Marley.â She playfully scolded.
âRight, right. Wouldnât want a mini sailor as a roommate.â You looked over at the child in question, rolling your eyes as you noticed the poor rabbitâs ear practically halfway down her throat. âShe has an odd fascination with trying to eat things that shouldnât be eaten.â You explained, knowing that youâd have to toss her beloved stuffie straight into the wash the second that you got home.
âI mean. . .who hasnât eaten something that they shouldnât have? If bubblegum wasnât supposed to be swallowed, then why do they make it taste so good?â She stuck one of her hands into the front pocket of her jeans.
âDonât give her any ideas. Iâm sure sheâs going to be one hell of a gum eater.â
The two of you took a second to just stare at each other, unsure if the lack of contact should be mentioned or not. You were the first person to break and mention it.
âSo. . . I never got a text from you. Was it the caffeine addiction or the two year old that scared you away?â You said it lightheartedly, letting her know that it wasnât meant to be taken as a jab or a judgment of her character.
Ellie swallowed hard, looking down at her shoes so that she could come up with a way to gracefully answer the question. She decided that there wasnât a smooth way to answer.
âNeither. I was. . . uh- I was sort of scared that you wouldnât answer me if I texted you first. I was hoping that I would run into you again.â It sounded stupid now that she was saying it outloud.
It also made it sound like she had romantic intentions. Granted. . . she had hope, but sheâd be happy just to call you a friend. If that was really the case though, she shouldnât have felt so nervous to reach out to you in the first place.
It was nice being around you. It felt effortless, and you didnât take her ârough around the edgesâ personality the wrong way, like most people. She would like to blame Joel for her crass attitude, but sheâd been like this far before she was adopted. The two of them just happened to be more alike than she cared to admit.
âHow about this: you give me your number right now, and Iâll text you when I get home.â You felt ten times better knowing that you really had just been overthinking.
You handed over your phone, and smiled as she reached out for it, starting to type her number in. She paused for a second though, realizing that she was so frazzled over seeing you again that she had forgotten the phone number that sheâd had since freshman year of high school. She wondered if it would be too cheesy to put some sort of emoji after her name, and decided against it. Her contact was saved under âEllie Williamsâ.
It was right to the point. No nonsense. It was so her that all you could do was smile fondly down at your phone before shoving it back into the pocket of your overalls.
You were also guilty of reading her a bit wrong. She was far more shy and anxious than you gave her credit for. It was sweet, actually. Being forward wasnât exactly something that you were very good at these days though. Your ex had. . . ruined you, for lack of a better phrase. You hadnât dated in years, and while most would blame the fact that you had a child, you knew it wasnât quite that. There were nice people that didnât care about that sort of thing. Yes, they were few and far in between, but they were out there. The second that someone showed you even a bit of kindness that crossed the boundary of friendship, you often pulled back. Or away completely.
Youâd always known that you were into women. It wasnât a discussion that you had to have with anyone in your life though, because you and your ex had dated all the way back in high school. Queer kids often have some sort of âcoming outâ story, but you never felt the need to. After the messy breakup you hadnât felt the need for romance. Were you lonely? Incredibly so, but youâd rather be alone than allow your daughter to get attached to someone only for them to leave.
Now that you were older, you started to realize that maybe you had settled with a man because that was what you thought you should do. Getting married and having children was just the thing to do around here. Living in a place like Jackson, there wasnât a ton of representation. Now that you were more experienced in the âlifeâ category, it was safe to say that you couldnât imagine yourself settling down with a man. It wasnât because of the trauma that Marleyâs father had put you through either, it was something that had always been there. Â A part of you felt guilty that it had taken you so many years to gain the courage to be yourself, but you were far too young for it to be too late.
Or so you told yourself when the anxiety started to weigh down on your heart.
âDo you eat a lot of microwavable meals?â You asked her, pointing to the basket that she had picked back up after her fit of laughter.
She flushed. Like actually turned pink. You smiled as she let out a small groan, wiping a paint stained hand over her face.
âI was hoping you wouldnât see those,â You didnât feel as bad for pointing them out as you should have. Not when it gave you a solid reason to see her again. âIâm super busy with work, and after a long day of being around food, I really donât feel like cooking for just myself.â
Bingo. Sheâs single.
The old fluorescent light above the aisle that the two of you were currently chattering away in flickered. The both of you looked up at it simultaneously.
âWell, if you ever want a home cooked meal. . . you could always come over to my place? As long as you donât mind watching a two year old try to use a spoon. It looks like a murder scene.â You said, eyes still locked on the light. You were really putting yourself out there, and felt too scared to see her reaction to the question.
She forgot how to breathe for a second. Was she just being pathetically optimistic, or were you asking her on a . . . very casual date?
âI would really like that.â She breathed, nodding her head to emphasize the fact that she was more than happy to come over. Toddler and all.
Most people her age would be a bit put off by the fact that you had a child, but it was a nonfactor for Ellie. Sheâd had almost an entire week to fantasize about you. During her routine daydreams, she recognized that she wasnât bothered by Marley. If anything. . . it made her like you more. You were capable, and sheâd like to think that you were incredibly mature. Ellie needed that in her life. She would never vocalize it, but she wanted stability. She wanted happiness. She wanted you.
You made her feel like she was in high school again, which was good. The constant stomach flops and heart palpitations didnât feel good, but she hadnât felt this giddy about someone since. . . well, probably forever.
âGreat,â You beamed at her, and once again she felt like she might double over. Was her hands shaking? Yeah. . . they totally were. âWhen is your next day off?â
âSunday.â She answered a little too eagerly and nearly winced.
âAh, thatâs great! Same here. Well, how does five thirty sound? Iâll text you my address.â You, on the other hand, didnât care how eager you sounded.
âSounds like a plan.â
â-and then I just. . . jogged off.â Ellie recalled, taking another drag off of the spliff before handing it over to Jesse.
She gave him a small shove when she noticed his slack jaw and narrowed eyes. He fell back against the couch, shaking his head wildly.
âNo you didnât.â He denied, hoping that his friend wasnât that awkward.
âNo, I totally did. The keys on my belt were jingling with how fast I was moving to get out of there. I forgot like. . . half of the things on my list.â She was mortified. She wanted to shrink down into a small ball and die. She was hoping that Jesse would give her some sound advice, but she should have known that he would give her major shit before going all Confucius on her.
âOh my go-âJesseâs barking laugh turned into a fit of coughs. Ellie wanted to think that it was the drug usage and not her retelling of the horrific events from earlier on in the day that was making him laugh so hard. He wiped at an invisible tear on his cheek, followed by a drawn out round of repeated âoooh that was goodââs.
âHelp. Me.â Ellie said through clenched teeth, zipping her gray hoodie all the way up to her neck.
âBring her flowers.â He said with a shrug, taking another long drag.
âI canât bring her flowers, Jes! What if. . . I donât know- what if sheâs straight and I totally weird her out?â It would be a nightmare to show up with a gift like that, only to have read the situation completely wrong.
â. . . Canât you tell if sheâs gay or not? Itâs not uncommon for people to realize theyâre a lesbian after having kids.â Jesseâs brows furrowed as he blew off the ash from the eye of the spliff, handing it back over to her.
She took another long drag for courage before letting out a sigh, the smoke curling out from her mouth.
âI canât. . . I canât tell when it comes to that sort of thing.â She said lamely.
Jesseâs jaw dropped for a second time that night. Ellie sunk back into her overly-comfortable couch, pulling her hood up and over her head so that she could disappear.
âI just thought you had a thing for straight chicks this entire time,â He gasped, reaching out so that he could roughly shake her by her shoulders. âBut youâre telling me that youâre a flaming homosexual and donât have a gaydar?â Heâd known her since high school, and he was just finding out? Damn. . . this entire time he thought that she must be some sort of masochist or something.
âYes. Are you happy now? I donât have a gaydar, and I have no clue if sheâs sending me friendly signals, so Iâm asking for your help.â She needed someone to spell it out to her. Heâd seen you at the restaurant, afterall.
â. . . Did you happen to see her nails?â
âItâs almost like you want to get punched in the mouth.â
âŚÂ message me about being put on the taglist!
@viswifetotallyrealâ Â @lillysbigwillyâ Â @overtrred28â Â @corpsebridenightamareâ Â @gimalo135 Â @erikaarÂ
why not to buy tlou2 remastered (please read).
#ellie williams#ellie williams x reader#ellie williams the last of us#ellie williams tlou#ellie williams x female reader#ellie williams x y/n#ellie williams x you#college!ellie williams#the last of us x reader#the last of us x you#the last of us#tlou fanfiction#tlou x reader#ellie williams fanfic#ellie williams fic#ellie williams angst#ellie williams fluff#ellie williams smut#the last of us fanfiction#the last of us x female reader#the last of us fic#tlou part two#tlou2#the last of us part two#tlou ellie#tlou ellie williams#tlou part 2
1K notes
¡
View notes
Text
Please boost if you can't help financially, thank you!
So here's the deal: My mom is getting a new car (used but new for her) and has a car that I could buy off of her. It's not the best and I can't afford it yet (alongside tags/taxes/insurance), but it's the only option I have. Buying a car anywhere else is either going to be extremely expensive, or I'm getting something from a stranger without knowing the car's issues. Three different people are giving me rides to doctor's appointments, errands, and work. I work two towns away. I have a book for sale. It's called Geckos, Automata. If you like urban fantasy with queers, automatons, necromancy, and the discussion of generational abuse and trauma, check it out!
Even if you've bought the book and want to help out, there are other ways as well! I have two tiers available on my Patreon: $1 and $3 If you like my writing already and want to support me, even $1/month is incredibly helpful! I've also got a Ko-Fi, with a car goal set already. You can send whatever amounts you like. I also will take art commissions, but they're just sketches and would be $15 per character, +$10 for an additional character. (Limit of 3 characters total.) You can ask me more about it if you're comfortable. Thank you so much whether you help out financially or boost this. It will help me out immensely, and it'll ease the strain on the three people who are giving me rides everywhere. I'm doing my best and working on writing, but I am disabled and struggling a lot financially despite all the different jobs I juggle. (And if I can't get rides, I can't even go to work, I can't get money. No, I don't have public transportation in the country.) I'm pretty desperate but I'm willing to work for my wages, and I'll work on publishing more stories. If you do want to check out my writing, I do have free original stories as well as fanfic up on my AO3.
130 notes
¡
View notes
Note
I'm still a couple years off deciding if I want to go to grad school for real, but every program I've looked into mentions fully funding students. should I still expect debt in that case?
It depends. I wish I had a straightforward answer for you, but there are a lot of variables to take into account, including but not limited to:
Master's or PhD? PhDs tend to be fully funded, while master's often are not. Some programs will allow you to get your master's on the way to your PhD, which is the best deal, although they are often more competitive.
How much is the school actually paying you? They love to say "fully funded" when they mean about $25,000 a year, which is far below the living wage for many areas.
How many years will you be funded for? That "fully funded" is usually conditional, and you should read the fine print. Most programs will fund you for X amount of years, after which you will be expected to fund yourself through grants, fellowships, and outside opportunities.
What will you do for work in the summer? That "fully funded" does not cover the summer break in the academic year (at least in the US). There are often pots of money around your department/university, or you can find a summer job inside/outside of academia.
What is the cost of living in your area? Are you someone who can live with roommates, do you have accessibility needs when it comes to housing, do you have a car that would allow you to live further away from campus (where the rent is often cheaper)?
Do they offer health insurance? How good is it and are you someone who has a lot of medical expenses?
When it's time, check out my guide to applying to graduate school. One of the things I mention there is talking to current graduate students. We are the ones who will be honest with you about the financial reality of the program.
Another thing to check is whether the grad students at the university are unionized. A strong union can fight for better contracts for grad students.
But all of this being saidâdo not go to grad school if it will put you into debt (unless you are in a field where getting the degree will allow you to pay off loans shortly after graduation). A program that will not pay you enough to keep your head above water is not a program worth going to.
-Reid
35 notes
¡
View notes
Text
Fated Divergence, Ch. 2 // Yandere! Suguru Geto X Non-Sorcerer Darling
AO3 (+prev. chapter)
âSon of a bitch.â
Just when you believed this day couldnât get much worse (and it was barely 9AM!), you returned to where you parked your car only to find the rear-end damaged. Banged up and everything!
You stormed your feet on the concrete and almost wanted to clutch your head from the sheer frustration of your entire existence!
âAre you fucking shitting me?!â
You grumbled a string of curses to yourself as you dialed Meiâs number.
âHey! Mei, someone rear-ended my car in the parking deck.â
âAw man, that sucks! We can check security to see if we can get the license plate of the person who did it, and hopefully your insurance will cover that for you. Are you doing okay? My shift just ended, so I can meet you there.â
âAwesome, because I have so much tea to spill to you in person. I had an⌠interesting encounter.â
âInteresting like hot guy interesting or interesting like I hope I never see this fucker again interesting?"
You bit back a snort at such a typical follow-up question.
âWeirdly enough, both.â
Not much longer, and Mei appeared by your side with her things. You hung up your phone as you spun around to face her. She jingled her keys and eyed the damage on your Honda.
âSheesh, that sucks,â she muttered, brushing her blonde hair away. âWe didnât catch much on the security cameras, for some reason it was acting all buggy. But do tell about this fateful encounter.â
âIt was Suguru Geto,â you replied as if it was not that big of a deal.
âThat crazy cult leader who thinks heâs God, or something? He runs Star Religious Group, right?â she asked. You nodded.
âYeah, thatâs the one. All I can say is that at least he puts the âhotâ in âpsychotic,â but thatâs as far as things go⌠heâs as full of that nutty spiritual shit as they come.â
âSounds like thereâs something more to this,â she remarked. Always one to read between the lines⌠it kind of drove you nuts, sometimes. But at the same time, you had come to appreciate that about her because most people took things at face value in times when they shouldnât.
You trailed off, eyes rolling upward while thinking to yourself as you tried to make sense of the encounter you had. Suguru Geto⌠how did someone describe Suguru Geto, someone with a working brain, at least? To you, he seemed like he came off as someone who lost sight of reality the moment he got out of his sheltered lifestyle. He seemed tooâŚwrapped up in his own fucked up ideologies to understand that none of what he preached truly made sense. It seemed like he was at least self-aware enough tor realize that, though, when he put you on the spot asking if he frightened you or not.
Case in point, all that you could say about Suguru Geto was that he was just another nutcase who branded himself with some weird God or martyr complex.
âHe seemedâŚâ you began, twirling a stray strand of hair. ââŚout of it. And he was weirdly very touchy with me, someone he deems beneath him and like he was under a spell when he saw me. Almost likeâŚâ You couldnât word it. âAlmost like there was some spark in his eyes. He even gave me his business card that had his address to the Star Religious Group temple, but I ripped it up. No way in Hell would I ever go to him for anything. I like to think I have a working brain.â
âSmart,â she replied after listening to every word, while nodding. âThat guy is bad news and reeks of megalomaniac. Some of our patients and co-workers seem to think heâs legit, though, with exorcising demons or whatever.â
You shrugged, deciding it was best not to dwell on the encounter longer than necessary. It was likely you were never going to run into him againânot if you could help it.
âWhatever helps them sleep at night, I guess. It was justâŚI donât know. Just thinking about that look on his face when he stared me down, I just⌠donât know how to describe it. I just knew he wanted something from me, and I hope that it isnât as a sacrifice for the âgreater good.ââ
How not so far from the truth you were about that speculation, though, given his ideologies that the general public had no clue aboutâŚ
You caught Mei smiling that âyouâre missing somethingâ smile, with that mischievous twinkle in those big ole green eyes of hers. You hated guessing games, so glaring back at her, you let out a groan.
âJust spit it out, Mei.â
âYou do realize Suguru Geto is still a man beyond all of that delusional grandeur, right?â she sang through giggles. âMaybe the crazy cult leader has the hots for you. You never acknowledge it yourself, babe, but you are a hot piece of ass. And he is likely a simple man with very simpleâŚurges.â
You grimaced. âThatâs just nasty. Not like Iâd ever hook up with a psychotic cult leader.â
Mei howled with laughter, shoulders shaking.
Tossing her free hand in the air and waving dismissively, she replied: âNot like you havenât had worse hookups, like Raito from Tinder.â
âOh my God! Youâre ridiculous,â you scoffed, making a retching sound at the reminder. âBut you know whatâyouâre not wrong. He was definitely the epitome of the worst sex to ever have and I hope never to have a repeat of that encounter.â
You two shared another laugh before exchanging smiles. As the laughter died down, you sighed, taking a final glance at the damage of the car you werenât sure your insurance would cover.
âThanks for hearing me out. So much for figuring out who damaged my car, but I guess Iâll just have to figure out if I can find someone who can fix it.â
âYou really are having quite the Monday, arenât you?â Mei teased while raising an eyebrow.
You gave Mei a pointed look.
âOh, donât even get me started on that again.â
-- --- -- -- --
When you left the parking deck with Mei, you werenât aware of the numerous eyes fixated on you. Some even in your carâŚ
Some curses Geto had absorbed from naĂŻve clients he had implanted near you to keep a close watch on everything you did.
He also did a little digging on you.
An only child, parents gone from the world some time ago (and therefore not much for him to clean up for your sake) ⌠no other family that you knew of either.
A perfect specimen, indeed. An exception, he didnât think he could find it before.
Not even his parents. He knew that was taking an extreme measure, but they were asleep and unsuspecting when he committed the deed. They didnât suffer, as far as he knew. They didnât suffer, since they didn't know it was he who put them out of their misery. His parents would be used as leverage against him, and not only was that a way to show no exception for his new regime, but it was also a way to make sure nothing would complicate his agenda.
Not only that, he pondered further, but perhaps he had been vengeful and vindictive that his parents placed him in a world with this much ugliness.
He watched with a veil concealed around the area as you drove off. He may or may not have been responsible for the damage to your car. Completely an accident this time around, since he absorbed another curse, but the typical human eye wouldnât be able to detect what happened.
Little by little, each step would bring you closer to him.
No matter where you went, no matter whether you truly believed in him or notâŚ
Soon enough, he was going to be the answer to all of your prayers. He would be your salvation, just as you became his.
After all, every perfect God needed his lovely wife. Perhaps having a non-sorcerer around his arms would provide those other monkeys a false sense of security, a reason to believe in his cause a little more.
Besides, in spite of your monkey status, you were still the fairest of the land.
As you drove off, he commenced Phase 1 of his plan.
Only he would be able to help these unsuspecting monkeys break free from the curses he released in the area.
In due time, my sweet, he thought as his eyes darkened. In due time.
-- --- -- -- --
After spending some time with Mei, you returned to your dingy old apartment that you kept telling yourself youâd move out of but somehow never did. Somewhere down the line, you decided that served its purpose, and you didnât really need the aesthetic lifestyle.
You flopped onto your couch and sighed, glancing at the digital clock perched on top of your humble sized TV.
Only 1PM now⌠so the day still had the potential to get worse, huh?
Or better, if you stopped being such a goddamn pessimist.
You flipped through some channels, settling on some old timey crime drama you heard Mei used to rave about all the damn time. Seemed as formulaic and predictable as ever, but at least it filled the silence with something other than your damning thoughts often circling back to that encounter with Suguru Geto.
Which, by that point, your inclination to be curious against your better judgment took over.
You wondered if there had to be any dirt on this guy. Well, apart from what was known to the general public. Superficially charming but dealt a ruthless hand just for the sheer anarchial point of it. You decided to settle into your desk and boot up your computer.
So ⌠did he go any deeper than just an egotistical megalomaniac with a God-complex?
You paused, taking a moment to consider your actions. Why was this suddenly so interesting to you? All you could do was speculate. When you searched him up, all you found were conspiracy theories (which probably werenât far off) about him having disdain toward people who didnât view his âspiritual giftâ as valuable or even real.
As you were browsing online through conspiracy theorist forums, which were nuttier than Suguru Geto himself if anyone could believe it, you werenât aware of the cursed spirit perched just above you, with a camera lodged in its mouth to capture everything you did at every waking moment from then on out.
Itâs not a secret that the great Suguru Geto possesses disdain for non-believers. Is it really hard to understand the power he possesses, a gift from God, perhaps? Maybe he might be God.
He saved my daughter from being plagued by her sleep paralysis demons, which he explained werenât sleep paralysis demons at all. A spirit had been attached to her and once he absorbed it, she has never complained of episodes since.
Suguru Geto is a savior to us all.
âThese guys are nuts,â you muttered to yourself as you idly munched on some trail mix while digging more into Suguru. âThese are probably the same guys who think vaccines cause autismâŚâ
There wasnât much more to gauge out of these forums. All of them shared similar stories, but you wondered if people spoke of poor experiences or service with Suguru Geto.
Did anyone else find something extremely unsettling about Suguru Geto? When I took my daughter to his temple, he had no problem changing our last name just because âSatoâ was easier than âSaitoâ.
You almost snorted. That sounded so dumb and unserious, yet this man did have a dangerous air to him. Maybe all you could chalk him up to was that he had a few screws loose and that was as far as things went.
You exited out of these forums, deciding that expanding upon on your research on this guy wasnât worth your energy.
Besides, you had an early shift tomorrow. (You double-checked your calendar this time.)
-- --- -- -- --
The next morning, during your shift, you had been approached by a tall man with white hair. He wore a blindfold, for whatever reason, and wore a school uniform.
You stood, dumbfounded, wondering what he could possibly want. You were in charge of this floor, and he seemedâŚdistressed. Far from uncommon on these grounds, of course. You worked at a fucking clinic.
âHello,â you greeted, eyebrows scrunching as you studied the man. âMay I help you?â
âDid this man happen to appear in this area in the last few days?â He presented a picture of, hey what did you know? Suguru Geto.
Except you almost wouldnât have recognized himâhe seemed so normal in the picture the man showed you. The Suguru Geto you met adorned himself in a robe, with long unkempt hair, his bonier body, and a manic grin. Here, he seemed refined, healthy and strong. Poised, with a clean bun and a handsome, winning smile.
Your jaw practically hung open at the stark contrast.
What the fuck kind of glow down was that, actually?
Gathering yourself, you cleared your throat.
âAh. Yes, he has been sighted around here. Not here in the clinic, but I saw him at the bakery just a few blocks away from here.â
âGood to know.â He towered over you the way Suguru Geto did; they were maybe around the same height. He looked like he was studying you but unlike Geto, he respected your space. Especially since you were in the middle of an early shift.
âListen, Miss,â he glanced at your name tag and sounded out your name. You nodded as he guessed correctly. âJust watch your back, alright? I hope you didnât address him as Geto instead of Suguru if he talked to you. The guyâs particular about that, for some reason.â
Yeah, the guyâs practically infamous for wanting to be seen as important, you thought to yourself with a frown, mostly because of the way Gojo likely wasnât staring at you but whatever was going on around you.
He seemed to sense someone, or something (or hell, even both) around you that you couldnât figure out.
âIâm going to make regular visits here,â he continued, âMy name is Satoru Gojo. The clinic knows my face fairly well by now by how many civilians we bring here for them to mend fromâŚaccidents.â
âAh,â you acknowledged, dumbfounded as ever but deciding not to probe him with questions. The hell was up with all of the cryptic shit? You really didnât care all that much. âWell, itâs a pleasure to meet you, Gojo. But I must return to my patients.â
âOf course, maâam.â
Not much longer, and you heard his footsteps receding to the nearest exit.
#suguru geto x you#yandere x darling#suguru geto x y/n#suguru geto x reader#jjk suguru geto#jjk fanfic#suguru geto smut#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk x you#yandere x you#yandere x reader#erixtales
53 notes
¡
View notes