#Beverley Removals

[amremovalsblog]

A Comprehensive Guide that Why Hire Professional Removals Services in the UK

At some time in your life, whether you operate a business or not, you may need to relocate your household belongings or commercial activities. You will need to relocate all of your belongings if you have made the decision to relocate. This is the role of Beverley Removals Services! Equipment for a home or company might be quite time-consuming to move on your own.

Visit:- https://medium.com/@amremovals52/a-comprehensive-guide-that-why-hire-professional-removals-services-in-the-uk-252268f75f6a

[kissmyglassblog]

Roof Moss Removal Service in York:

All types of removal service in york at best price, to know more visit the link: https://bit.ly/417MP3d

[pronoun-fucker]

IN 1986, Sophie Ottaway was born with a very rare condition which required immediate surgery.

Cloacal exstrophy happens when the organs in the abdomen do not form correctly in the womb, resulting in babies born with organs such as the bladder or intestines outside the body.

Doctors had to operate to save her life.

Sophie was actually a boy, with a tiny, damaged penis but healthy testes.

But doctors advised Sophie’s parents that their baby’s male ­genitalia should be removed to avoid further complications.

The baby had to be registered by the following day, which meant they had to decide whether to tick male or female on the form.

Sophie’s parents Karen and John followed the surgeons’ advice.

“They were told not to tell me,” says Sophie, a warm and friendly 37-year-old who has since fully forgiven her parents for their decision.

“We are very close,” she tells me, “despite going through some rocky times in the past.”

Life changed for Sophie, who grew up in Beverley, East Yorks, when she was 22 years old and visiting her GP surgery for tonsilitis.

She says: “I saw on the computer screen that I had XY chromosomes, had been castrated hours after birth, and an incision was made where a vagina would be.”

Although Sophie exploded at her parents in the moment, she buried her feelings about it all until 13 years later when, hospitalised during a Covid lockdown, it was discovered she had developed sepsis that had ended up in her intestines.

‘I went into 13 years of absolute denial’

This was what led her to decide to speak out.

Sophie was already aware that many children and young people were being groomed in gender ideology, persuaded to take puberty blockers, then set on a medical pathway for life.

She says: “At age 11, as I approached puberty, they put me on oestrogen because there’s no ovaries, and no testes to produce testosterone.

“This is what doctors are doing now to kids who wish to change gender — putting them on blockers.”

It was a lie when Sophie was told she had to take oestrogen for life because her ovaries had been removed at birth as a result of damage.

Sophie was born biologically male. “So obviously there were never any ovaries,” she says wryly.

She adds: “The time to tell me and try to get informed consent was at the point we introduced the endocrinologist. This is the time puberty blockers are being offered to kids, so I make that connection with what’s happening today.”

When feminists and others critical of the medicalisation of children with gender dysphoria have said that these drugs and interventions are harmful, we are often labelled bigots. But Sophie is speaking from personal experience, in the hope that she will be listened to rather than dismissed and vilified.

About five years ago, Sophie chose to stop taking the hormones, because “I was adamant that many problems in my life were being caused by them.

“I was about 4st heavier than I am now, and I wasn’t eating badly. I was having bladder pain beyond belief.

“I had fatigue and was quite angry a lot of the time.”

By then, Sophie had been taking oestrogen for 20 years, and decided enough was enough. She was told she should keep taking it because it was for bone density, to which she replied that she would have regular bone scans.

Sophie had no choice but to go on oestrogen, because the doctors prescribed it to her as a child — but surely she should be listened to when she warns of the effects cross-sex hormones have on the body?

Now that she no longer takes it, all her symptoms have improved.

She says: “We’re selling this idea of perfection in the guise of changing gender. You’ve got all of these problems and might be struggling because you don’t fit in at school, or because you like boys’ toys and you’re a girl, or vice versa. As someone who knows all about decisions made under time pressure and who has paid the price, Sophie’s understanding of the sales pitch being made to children before puberty is crystal clear.

She says: “You’ve got a sale based on a time pressure.

“We’re going to push you through this for the puberty blockers, we’re going to make that sale.”

Keen to stress that there is a big difference between a girl behaving “like a boy”, wearing boys’ clothes and haircuts, Sophie adds: “Puberty blockers are a different level to how we dress and which toys we favour.”

The idea being sold is that gender reassignment is the answer to all your problems, but Sophie says: “What you get is genital mutilation, castration, and a lifetime of dangerous hormones, which was my experience.”

As she points out: “Children can’t vote, they can’t drink, can’t drive.

“But you can choose to do something life-changing.”

Sophie hopes that by speaking out and telling her unvarnished truth, some children — and parents — might make a different choice.

She says that when she found out that she’d been born male, “I obviously knew I had urological problems, and I knew that I had no vagina because of the surgeries.

“I didn’t address it at that point. I was 22, in second year at university.

“I had a plan of my life. And dealing with this monstrosity was not in the plan. I got up the next day and went to university.

“I still had the same connection with my friends. I was still the ­person I was 24 hours ago.

“But I went into 13 years of ­absolute denial.”

She never told anyone about it, not even close friends.

‘When I came out of hospital I was raging’

Then, during the pandemic, Sophie found herself in hospital a couple of times, and it all came crashing down.

She recalls: “They thought it was a kidney infection, but they couldn’t get to the bottom of it.

“When I was born they had fashioned some female genitalia. Brown putrid fluid starting leaking out of the hole and it would not stop.

“I presented at the hospital and I had to tell them for the first time about what had happened to me.”

When doctors examined her, they saw that there was something very wrong.

It turned out there was a mass in her abdomen, which was the neovagina — inserted when she was a baby — and left to rot.

Sophie says: “I found out from my mum that they had inserted it when I was two days old, and that one day it popped out and was found in my nappy.”

Surgeons replaced it during a later operation, sealed it up, and left it, which is why it led to sepsis many years later.

“No one had been told it had been put back in,” says Sophie.

Up until this point she had thought that the surgeon had simply operated to save her life — “which he did, but he also did a hell of a lot of other stuff that was unnecessary.”

What’s more, the doctors failed to do something that was necessary — namely, address the complex urological problems that have plagued Sophie all her life.

She says this “is one of the things that has the biggest effect on having any kind of intimate relationship. And yet the one thing that they could have fixed is my incontinence.”

She tells me: “When I came out of hospital, I was raging at that point.”

And she thought that by speaking out, she might be able to help those who think they are in the wrong body.

Sophie says: “A lot of them are being groomed to feel that way or question those thoughts in the first place by the school and the system and the media. Those kids need help.”

A much better solution, she argues, would be to divert funding currently being used for puberty blockers, cross sex hormones and surgery and ­allocate it to children’s mental health services and counselling.

Sophie says: “We can work with that person to find out why they are feeling like this.

“Then, maybe when they become an adult, they might be mature enough to be properly informed and consent to any changes to the outer body.

“It is often assumed I am transgender, but I really don’t like labels. I am just Sophie.

Poised for a backlash from the more extreme trans activists, Sophie makes it clear that she respects any adult’s decision to choose that path — so long as they are properly informed.

But she is clear that this is never appropriate for children.

“I don’t want this to happen to any other baby born with this condition,” she says.

“We have to find better ways to support kids to live in the body they are born with.”

Link | Archived Link

[yorksnapshots]

The Black Tower.

No, It is really called The Black Mill but tower seems more dramatic! Westwood Pasture, Beverley, East Riding of Yorkshire.

This area of 'common land' was granted to locals by the Lord of the Manor in 1380, and today residents still hold rights to graze cattle and sheep in a practice overseen by so-called pasture makers.

A windmill has stood here since 1650. This structure rebuilt in 1803 but it's working gear was removed after a fire in 1868. It was then used as a dwelling until 1934 and now stands as a Grade 2 listed monument.

[yes-divine-ruler]

hi! can you pls do a kai anderson smut x reader who is crazy as he is 😭

i love your writing btw!!!

Worst In Me - Kai Anderson

x fem!reader

CW: depictions of violence and murder, mentions of blood, oral (f receiving), sex

Word count: 2215

"Where the fuck is Y/N, we're leaving in 5 minutes," Kai spat, his mask tucked under his arm by his side as his other reached outwards in disbelief.

"Here!" You called, descending the stairs in your own costume, mask also tucked under your arm.

"What took you so fucking long?" Kai asked, obviously annoyed.

"None of your fucking business, Divine Ruler," you spat back, pushing him by the shoulder and moving outside to get into the van with the others.

"That fucking bitch," Kai mumbled under his breath, shaking his head before following you outside.

You both pile into the van, setting your knives in your laps.

“She’ll be shooting at Collingwood Park,” Beverley takes a deep breath, “Brookfield Heights Rescue League.. some bullshit Jamboree.”

You nod, turning to Kai who has his eyes set on you already.

“What?” You bark, holding the knife up in front of you.

“Nothing,” he mutters, looking back down at the large knife in his hand as the drive commences.

The van pulls up outside the park, each of you getting out, masks on over your heads. It was hot in the costume, but it went unnoticed to you, the adrenaline pumping through your body overpowered all your senses.

“I get the first go,” you voice to Kai, as he walks behind you, his boots heavy against the walkway. He just grumbles something under his breath, and continues walking.

With Serena Belinda in sight, you, Kai and Harrison approach her, scoffing under your breath at the innocent persona she’d painted for herself.

“She’s holding a fucking dog,” you roll your eyes beneath the mask and Kai lets out a chuckle.

“What about the camera man?” Harrison asks, as you watch the fear in his eyes, as he tries to wave you all from the view of the camera.

“Kill him,” you say simply, Kai following you around to Serena’s right, as Harrison hangs back.

“Oh! It looks like we have some clowns who are desperate for air time,” Serena says, looking over at you as you approach her slowly, “uh- miss- are you excited to be apart of tomorrow’s entertainment?”

Just as Serena holds the microphone out to you, you pull the knife from behind your back, lunging forward to push the sharp point through her stomach. She screams, lunging forward and holding onto her knife wound, blood seeping onto the pavement below her.

Harrison lunges forward, stabbing Serena a second time in the neck, as she falls on her back to the floor. Kai stays by her side, as the cameraman lurches forward to try and defend Serena.

“What a fucking idiot,” you mutter under your breath, before using your bloodied knife to pierce his chest in a hard thrust.

You turn back around towards Serena and Kai, crouching down to your knees to repeatedly stab her in the chest, Kai following with his own murderous fore-comings.

“Alright let’s go,” Kai instructs, grabbing you by the arm and pulling you up.

“I can get up myself,” you say, tearing your arm from Kai’s grasp, turning to wave at Harrison to follow. You all trudge back to the van, trying to shake off the excess blood on your gloves as it left a sanguinary trail behind you.

You all pile back into the van, Jack leaning over his seat to take a glance at the three of you. Beverley sits firmly in her seat, a devilishly smile across her face.

“So?” She asks, as Jack begins to pull away from the curb, taking you all back to Kai’s family home.

“What does it look like?” You ask her menacingly, stretching out your arms to show her your red-stained costume.

“She’s gone,” Kai says simply, removing his mask and shaking his hair out so it wasn’t flat against his head. You follow, removing your mask and setting it in your lap. You notice Kai gazing at you again, before he drops his head and lets out a forced cough. You knew that you’d have to talk to him about it later, his blatant staring was getting on your nerves.

Pulling up at the house and parking the van out front, as a group you retreated inside. Letting out a loud sigh, you strip from your costume in the living room, not caring if anyone saw. You weren’t conscious about your body, and you didn’t care what anyone thought.

Dropping your costume on the floor, Winter scurried to pick it up with a pair of gloves.

“Thanks Win,” you mumbled, picking up your phone in just your bra and panties and filtering through your messages.

“Hey when’s your speech Anderson?” Still soaked in blood, you padded to the kitchen, opening the fridge and taking out something to eat.

“Couple of days,” he replied, stripped of his own costume and leaning against the kitchen counter in just his boxers. He didn’t care just as much as you.

Even with Serena Belinda’s blood on your hands you brought the apple to your mouth, taking a bite. Not even the blood of one of your victims provoked any care or bother from you.

“Right so, you’ve talked to Meadow about your plan?” You were too busy chewing your apple to notice Kai approaching you.

“Yes,” he said simply, before he was standing with his chest almost pushed against yours, his arms caging you in against the kitchen counter.

“What the fuck is your problem?” You let out a small laugh, as Kai’s dark eyes stared into yours.

“You, you’re my fucking problem.”

“Then why do you keep staring at me like you wanna fuck me?” You answer, dropping your apple core into the sink.

Kai sucks in an agitated breath, before he steps back.

“My room. Now.” His eyes rake over your almost bare body, soaking in the appearance of your smooth skin, covered in blood of the person you’d just savagely murdered.

“Okay,” you shrug, following him up to his room as he drags you by the wrist. You were unproblematically yourself, and although Kai despised it at times, it was also insanely hot. You understood him, you appreciated the method to his madness.

“So what do you want?” You ask, sitting on the end of his bed and crossing your legs, leaning back with the support of your outstretched arms.

Kai doesn’t wait another moment, his body lunging towards yours, his lips attacking yours in a passionate kiss. You’d be lying if you didn’t think about this once or twice during your time in the cult. Your main focus was the greater good of this country, the second, mostly on your own at bed time, your Divine Ruler.

“Kai!” You yelp, as his lips leave yours, wrapping around a small portion of skin on your neck, sucking harshly on your skin to leave a big bruise.

“I can’t tell you- how hot it is- when I watch you- do your service- for his group,” he breaths out between kisses, his big cold hands wrapping around your back and unclasping your bra.

Your breasts bounce freely from the constraints of your bra, Kai immediately taking one of your stiff peaks in his mouth and rolling his tongue around it. You let out a soft moan, his hands now at your hips, as you tangle your fingers in his sweaty blue hair.

“I was hard the whole time,” he admits, kissing down your stomach, licking at patches of blood, until he got to the waistband of your panties. Maybe that explains how quiet he was.

“Kai..” his name rolls of your tongue as you allow him to pull down your panties, exposing you wholly and completely to him. He marvels at the sight of your unclothed body, humming to himself in satisfaction.

“So beautiful,” he whispers, his kisses littering your hips bones and travelling lower. Usually you’d scowl at him for being so soft, but right now, his sweet words only ignited the fire in your abdomen.

His face becomes level with your throbbing heat, as he uses this thumbs to spread your soaking folds, before dipping his tongue in to taste you. You watch as he licks a thick strip up your slit, his lips settling on your clit and sucking softly. Your face screws in pleasure, as his assault on your clit continues, before another stripe is licked back down to your entrance. His tongue delves inside you, his nose brushing your clit as he looks up to meet your hungry eyes.

“Ohhh, fuck,” you groan, lolling your head back into the bed, kneading your own breast in your hand as he continues to work his tongue on your pussy.

His finger prods at your entrance, a “please” escaping your lips, begging him to stretch you out. He does as you ask, his finger evading your warm silk walls, letting out a moan as he feels you contract around it.

“You like that?” He asks, kitten licking your clit, his finger moving at a slow, steady pace inside you.

“Yes- oh my god- yes, more,” you beg, biting your bottom lip between your teeth.

He chuckles at your eagerness before adding a second finger. He scissors his fingers, stretching you out blissfully, before curling his fingers expertly up to hit your spot of intense pleasure.

“Kai!” You call his name again, his pace fast, his tongue still steadily lapping at your engorged clit.

“Cum, cum on my fingers,” Kai encourages, before the knot in your stomach unties and your legs begin to shake under his touch. You buckle your hips up to meet his face, as he licks you through your delicious release.

Kai removes his fingers as you pant under him in a frenzied mess, leaving a soft kiss on your clit.

“That was so hot,” he breathes out, provoking a laugh from you as you lean up on your elbows.

“Didn’t know you were so good with that tongue Anderson,” you tease as he crawls over you, pulling his boxers down his legs.

“How about I show you how good I am with my cock too?” You watch as his throbbing erection slaps against his stomach, as he folds your legs up to slot between them.

“Go on then,” you smile, as he leans in and connects your lips in another kiss. Your tongue enters his mouth, as he groans, running his tip back and forth against your entrance.

“Fuck me,” you whisper, kicking a stripe from his mouth to his ear, tasting the blood that stained his face.

“You’re such a dirty whore,” he groans, pushing himself inside you as you nip at his ear lobe.

He bottoms out inside you, a lightning shock of pleasure coursing through your core as you experience the ultimate fulfilment.

“Fuck you feel so good,” Kai moans, savouring the feeling of your heated core pulse around his hard cock.

You wrap your legs around his hips, caging him in before flipping yourselves over so you were straddling him. He lets out a surprised gasp, as you take control, rising and falling on his cock.

“Holy shit,” he groans, reaching out and grabbing ahold of your breasts, his thumb flicking over your nipple. It was a heavenly sight, your naked body, blood soaked and bouncing on his dick.

He held your hips tightly in your hands, as his thrust up into you to the beat of a silent drum, his balls slapping against your skin at a rapid pace.

You bask in this moment, pleasuring your divine ruler by riding him, watching his face as it screwed in carnal desire, desperately needing to hit your deepest point with every thrust of his hips.

“That’s it, fuck I’m- I’m cumming,” you’d never seen Kai so vulnerable, withering beneath your body as he coats your internal walls with his warm seed, letting out a low moan in gratification.

You slow your movements, leaning over and resting your sweat sheen forehead against his, as you both try and catch back your breaths.

“Why are we only just doing this now?” He asks, with a small chuckle.

“Because I’m a bitch, and you’re our divine ruler,” you tease, Kai pushing you off him and crawling back on top of you.

“You do act like a bitch sometimes but, you’re the only one who’s as committed as I am,” he says honestly, “maybe you’re who should have my messiah.”

You let out a laugh, pushing him by the chest and making him fall backwards. You get up off the bed, not ignorant of his eyes as they’re pierced into the side of your head.

“I’m not having kids Kai,” you say shortly, “kids don’t belong here. With us.”

“They won’t see anything,” he gets up, now stuck on the idea, “the child will be sheltered from our movement until they’re old enough to understand.”

“I’ll think about it, now stop being so needy and annoying,” you put a hand up to stop him from coming over to you and leave his bedroom, with a blanket wrapped around your body.

“Y/N!?”

You turn to see Winter, her mouth open in shock, her eyes wide. You offer her a closed lip smile.

“You should’ve seen it coming Win, your brother is just as insane as I am.”

[clementine-writes-things]

I'm so glad the IT fandom is back! Yes! I would love to see some Reddie fics!!!

Maybe Richie confesses his love to Eddie?

Your wish has been granted, anon! ALAKAZAM! (sorry if this sucks I haven't written in what feels like eons)

Fuck Them - R.T+E.K

♡Summary: In a moment of panic, Richie confesses his love to Eddie.

♡CW: Explicit language, blood, homophobia, brief mentions of religion, fluff, and angst if you squint.

♡WC: 5.5K

♡Song: I Won't Hurt You - The West Coast Pop Experimental Band

(pls listen to the song it's literally Richie talking to Eddie)

Nothing could have prepared Richie for what happened that night in the Niebolt house. To be fair, no one in the Loser’s Club was prepared to even step foot in the rickety building. Everyone knew what was awaiting them at the bottom of the well. The thing they had been fearing for the majority of their Summer. The thing that had been tormenting them.

It was down there.

The thing that took Bill’s brother. The thing that brought back Mike’s past. The thing that played off of Eddie’s phobias. The thing that delighted in Beverley’s abuse. The thing that lingered in Ben’s studying. The thing that roamed around Stanley’s synagogue. The thing that knew Richie’s deepest, darkest, most hidden secret.

That was what was down that damp well.

Going down there, even though they were all around 19 and 20, made them feel like little children. Children who were scared of the dark, afraid of what was hiding in the shadows, and afraid of the monster under their bed. It struck a chord deep in their souls, igniting that fight or flight instinct. At first, Bill was the only one who wanted to go. But, just like the tight knit group they are, they all went in. No Loser walks alone.

After going through the funhouse that Pennywise created for them, they finally reached the well. They traversed through the dark sewers, banding together in the grey water to fight against the ancient monster. And, remarkably, they did it. Together, they all beat that horrendous clown, putting an end to its reign of terror on the children of Derry. But it came with a cost. A terrifying and heart stopping cost.

He had gotten hurt. Badly.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, we’ve gotta get him back to the surface, guys, come on!” Richie shouted, holding his bleeding friend in his arms.

Everyone rushed to Eddie, helping him up and hurriedly carrying him towards the exit. Frantic footsteps fumbled around in the murky water. It splashed up, covering Eddie’s shorts, as well as the rest of the friends’ legs. The stench was almost too much to handle, especially mixed with the iron aroma of blood. Pennywise had thrown Eddie against a rock, causing his chest to gain a laceration from the sharp jagged edges. He was lucky that it hadn’t penetrated any vital organs, but still, the bleeding was enough to cause alarm. It certainly caused Richie to spiral into panic, breathing heavily, thinking that he might need a puff from Eddie’s inhaler.

“C-Can you guys movie any faster?! Shit! Shit! Shit!” Eddie cried out.

“WE’RE TRYING!”

Beverly, Stanley, and Bill removed Eddie’s fanny pack. Together, they rummaged through the contents, knowing that he would be carrying enough supplies to support an entire hospital. Meanwhile, Ben and Mike were trying to keep Eddie calm as they got things sorted out. And, Richie, who couldn’t bear to see Eddie in pain, removed his button up shirt and pressed it firmly against his chest to stop the blood. It elicited a wince of agony from him.

“Eddie, Eds, you’re gonna be ok! We’ve got you, buddy! I’ve got you!”

Tears formed in Richie’s bug eyes. Not even a second later, those drops trickled down his cheeks, falling onto the bloodstained yellow shirt of his friend. The grip he had on the collar of it was strong, worried that if he let go, he’d lose Eddie forever. If he let go of Eddie, he’d drown in a pool of his own blood and leave him forever. If Eddie died, he’d lose the love of his life. Hell, he hadn’t even admitted it to him yet. None of his friends knew about his sexuality, let alone his crush on Eddie. That was his dark secret. Though to be fair, his friends, including Eddie, have probably caught on by now.

Down in the sewers, when they were battling the horrible creature, it transformed into everyone’s fears. For Beverly, it was her father. For Mike, his dead parents. Etc, etc. And as for Richie, well his fear is clowns. But lately, because of his hidden love for Eddie, his new fear was being outed. It was hard enough being gay in the 80’s, but to be exposed without any input? That was truly terrifying. He was scared about how his friends would react, how they would treat him, and how Eddie would feel about him. And that was what It used against him. In the sewers, it transformed into Eddie, saying that he knew about Richie’s feelings, and that he hated him for it.

“I could never love a trashmouth like you!”

“I know your secret, Richie!”

“You shouldn’t think about friends like that! Pervert!”

Everyone saw. Whether they picked up on the meaning of it or not, Richie wasn’t sure. But it was obvious. The idea of Eddie knowing made him sick to his stomach. It embarrassed him and put him on edge, worried about how he would feel. But then again, the idea of Eddie not knowing scared him as well. Especially in a moment like this. Eddie could die without knowing the truth. That would live with Richie forever. Haunt him. He couldn’t bear that. So, in a moment of vulnerability, he let it slip. While the other members of their group were patching him up, comforting him through the pain, Richie spilled his guts. It was unlikely that Eddie would die, but Richie’s fear was through the roof. He was overwhelmed with emotions. It weakened his defense.

“Eddie…”

He grabbed his hand, thumb brushing over Eddie’s knuckles. It was a tender moment amidst the chaos. Blood on everyone’s hands, tears in eyes, and heavy breathing filling up the decrepit living room of the abandoned house. At the touch, Eddie’s glazed eyes flickered down to his hand. Richie’s hand was rough, but not in a working man kind of way, but a living life kind of way. His hands were rough and worn from riding his bike everywhere, the grips creating blisters on his palms, and from woodworking—his new hobby.

“Y-You’re my best friend and…and I need you here. I…I love you…”

Eddie’s eyes were wide, despite his heavy lids from exhaustion. He heard Richie loud and clear—so did everyone else. But still, no one commented on it. His confession, his singing of his heart, it all went unnoticed. Unrecognized. It was as if it was just a whisper in the wind. Now that…that truly terrified Richie. He would rather them comment on it, say something mean or hurtful, than have them ignore it. That hurt him the most.

And that was that.

Eddie hadn’t talked to him since. It had been three weeks, almost four, and he still hadn’t spoken a word to him. Richie had seen the other members, who had finally decided to talk to him about his confession. They were all supportive, their views of their friendship unchanging. It was a relief, that’s for sure, but that still left Eddie. His Eddie. Well, not his, but he wanted him to be his. The crush he had on him has been lingering around since they were 12. Eight years of a hidden love, battling sexuality, and feeling ashamed of who he was. It was nice to know his friends supported him and loved him regardless. But still…

Eddie.

He was on Richie’s mind every single day since the battle at Neibolt. When he woke up, he thought of Eddie. When he ate meals, he thought of Eddie. When he went to bed, he thought of Eddie. He was the first and last thing he thought about in a day. At his job, during his drive home, when he went to the library, when he went to the gym, and when he was whittling wood. Every. Moment. Was…

A knock.

There was a knock at his front door. It wasn’t his parents, because both of them were at work, he knew that. It kind of bothered him that he was 20 and still living with his parents, but he was working to get enough money to get a place of his own. It would just take time, that’s all.

He walked towards the door.

Plus, he was procrastinating on getting his own place. It was true, he wanted to live on his own, but he wanted to stay near his friends. Yes, he’d most likely look for a place in Derry, or at least a neighboring town, but it still meant he’d move just a little bit further away from…

“Eddie?”

Richie’s eyes widened, adjusting his glasses to make sure he wasn’t just seeing things. Sometimes he’d see Eddie out of the corner of his eye, mocking him for his love. It was all in his head, of course, except for the times it was Pennywise tormenting him. He didn’t have to worry about that anymore. It was gone. Pennywise was gone from Derry, killed by the seven of them. But he still felt tormented. Ever since his confession towards Eddie, he had this festering idea that he hated him now. Richie was convinced that he ruined their friendship. But now, he was here on his front doorstep.

The last time he saw him, he was covered in blood. Tears were streaming down his face, his cheeks red, and eyes puffy. It pained Richie to see him hurt and crying. Of course, Richie had seen Eddie cry before, but not like that. It reminded him of when he broke his arm. He hated that day. He wanted to sign his cast, put big hearts around it, and tell him he was sorry. He wanted to give him a big hug, take care of him, and tell him that everything was going to be alright. But his fear. His fear of being outed, being rejected, losing their friendship—it prevented him. He hated that it prevented him.

“Hey, Rich…”

It felt awkward. He held the door open for him but wasn’t sure what to do after that. Eddie just stood there, wiping his feet on the welcome mat repeatedly. For a moment, Richie could have sworn that he looked…nervous, perhaps as nervous as he was. But he wasn’t sure why. He wasn’t sure why Eddie was nervous. One thing he was sure of was that his own heart was racing, beating, practically thumping underneath his ribcage.

“Do you, uh, do you want to come in?” Richie asked.

He nodded.

Richie stepped aside, allowing room for Eddie to walk in his house. Even though he was nervous, he smiled when Eddie took his shoes off. It was classic Eddie fashion. Whenever he went inside someone’s house, he took his shoes off. In his mind, he wouldn’t want someone to track dirt in his house, so he wouldn’t do it in anyone else’s. And, of course, he still had a fanny pack. Honestly, he probably would never stop wearing one. Richie liked that about him though. It was charming in a slightly annoying kind of way.

Eddie followed Richie through the house, not knowing where they were going. It was a weird silence. Awkward and uncomfortable. Neither of them knew what to do about the situation. Richie didn’t know why Eddie was there and, hell, Eddie wasn’t quite sure why he was there either. Well, he knew, but as soon as he saw Richie at the front door, he started to have second thoughts. Was this a smart thing to do? He wasn’t even sure if it was true or not.

“I was, um, I was working on making a birdhouse in the garage.” Richie mumbled, opening the garage door and walking in.

Following right behind him, Eddie closed the door. He knew that Richie had taken up woodwork, but he had never seen him do it before. It was a recent hobby, only having done it for around two months or so. But man, oh man, was he good at it. The man, young adult, what have you, he was stunned at what he saw. It wasn’t like the garage was chock full of wood sculptures, because there were only a handful, but they were beautiful.

“Wow, these are nice. How often do you get splinters?” Eddie chuckled, trying to lighten the mood.

Richie shrugged, sitting down at the workbench that he and his dad shared. He picked up a knife, a rather sharp one, and started to shave away at a block of wood. It looked like…pine? Eddie wasn’t very familiar with wood, so he wasn’t sure. Regardless, it looks like a nice piece to start something with. It was almost poetic, really. Now that It was defeated, the Losers could start anew, enjoy the rest of their lives. And now, Richie was creating things, giving these inanimate objects a story. A new life to create new things.

“So, um…it’s been a while.” Eddie sighed.

This little comment elicited a scoff from Richie. He didn’t even bother turning around to look at his friend. Instead, he just continued to whittle the wood in his hand. It was unclear what he was intending to do with it. For now, it was something to take his frustration out on. It was like a stress ball for him.

“That’s one way to say that you ignored me for nearly a month.”

Eddie’s eyebrows furrowed, but then they relaxed, knowing that Richie had every right to be defensive. Truly, he felt awful for avoiding him for this long. It hurt him to be away from him for that long, but he needed time to recover from his injury, and to get his mind together. There were lots of things he needed to think about. But the majority of his thoughts were occupied by Richie Tozier himself. He just couldn’t get him out of his head.

“I-…’’

He cut himself off, not able to find the words. The palms of his hands began to get clammy, and he felt a sweat building up. How he was feeling was beginning to feel like an asthma attack. Of course he wasn’t actually having one, but it certainly felt like it. His chest heaved up and down with his heavy breaths, hand on his fanny pack in case he needed his inhaler. Richie cast a glance in his direction, seeing how...upset he was.

“I just…I needed time to think.” Eddie sputtered.

Raising an eyebrow, Richie turned around in his swivel chair. The piece of partially carved wood hung limp in his hand, the knife on the bench. Shavings littered the concrete floor beneath his feet, blowing ever so slightly from the fan turned on in the corner of the room. It was still Summer in Derry, and for some reason, it was a particularly hot one.

“Think? About what?” He queried.

A shaky breath left Eddie’s lips. Richie knew that because he was eyeing his lips carefully. He knew that Eddie was his friend, and that he shouldn’t be thinking about him romantically, but he couldn’t help it. It was hard to look at him without thoughts of hugging him, kissing him, and holding him close to his chest. It was all he ever wanted.

“I…Richie…are you…they told me you were gay? Is that true?” Eddie questioned, a little cautiously.

He groaned, burying his head in his hands. When Richie told them that, he didn’t expect them to tell Eddie. Sure, he figured Eddie already knew by now, but still. He wasn’t too mad, but he was a little irritated.

“Fuck…yeah. Yeah, it’s true, Ed. What, come here to ridicule me? Are you ashamed to be friends with me?”

Richie’s insecurities, his fears, they all came out in that moment. He regretted ever spilling his guts in that Niebolt house. If he could take it back, he would. Because right now, he felt like a bug. A pathetic bug that was about to be squashed underneath a giant shoe. He felt lower than dirt. His parents always knew, and they did not support him. None of his family did. Sure, the Losers did, but did Eddie?

“W-What? No! I-…that’s…that’s what I’ve been thinking about.”

That caught his attention instantly.

“Me being gay?”

Eddie shrugged his shoulders, tilting his head a bit.

“Well, I guess, yeah? Um…it’s more like…”

His eyes lowered down to Richie’s hands. While he was trying to gather his words, he had picked the knife back up, continuing to carve at the wood. His hand went back and forth, shavings falling to the ground. It was almost hypnotic, the movement of his hands and the subtle muscles he had in his arms. Even though he was skinny, he still had muscles. Eddie had always known, but right now, in this moment, he was very aware of it. The way they moved, flexed, and how the garage light illuminated them. They had caught his attention so much that he forgot what he was even saying in the first place.

Richie noticed this. He glanced up, not thinking much of it, but immediately looked back. Eddie’s eyes were fixated on his hands, then his arms, and then his chest. They were looking directly at his body. Observing his body. Scanning his body. Admiring it. Once Eddie realized Richie had noticed, he licked his lips nervously, moving his eyes to look at anything else.

“I, um, I was thinking about…myself, I guess. I took time to, uh…”

Eddie swallowed thickly as Richie stood up, walking over to him. The closer he got, the more nervous he became. Part of Eddie wanted to run out of the room, or back up into a corner. But he didn’t. He stood still and watched as his friend leaned against the workbench, elbow resting on top of it, wood in his palm.

“What about yourself, Eddie spaghetti?”

God, that stupid nickname. One of many that Richie would call him throughout their childhood. Even now, Eddie being 19—though turning 20 next month—and Richie being 20, he was still being called those nicknames. The other losers would call him nicknames too, but Richie had created most of them. He’d list them all, but it’d probably take too long. Eddie spaghetti was one that he hated growing up. Well, he didn’t hate it…but he pretended to.

It felt like there was a frog in Eddie’s throat, preventing him from speaking any further. Every time he tried to move his mouth, his body would get all warm. Each nerve in his body felt like it was on fire, burning under his skin. He regretted ever coming over to his house. For a split second he considered bolting out of the door and hightailing it outside. But something kept his feet glued to the concrete flooring. Something kept him there. With Richie.

“Well, I thought about what you said that day, in the Neibolt house.” Eddie’s eyes darted to the ground, unable to make eye contact.

Richie now stood up, open palm pressed against the workbench. The piece of wood he was working on had now been placed down. With his other free hand, he slid it in the pocket of his cargo shorts, weighing them down a bit. Briefly, Eddie flickered his eyes down to get a quick look, but he returned his gaze to Richie’s eyes just as quickly. The frog in his throat had traveled down to the pit of his stomach, sitting heavy and full. Instead of saying something, Richie simply nodded his head, gesturing to Eddie to continue.

“You love me, Richie?”

Shit. There was no beating around the bush anymore. It was a statement concealed as a question. Of course, Eddie knew, everyone knew, but he wanted to get it straight from the horse’s mouth. He needed to hear it come from his friend with no extra factors. No rotting building, no terrifying clown, and no one else around. It was just the two of them. Just them. Yet, somehow, it was still terrifying. Just, not in a “life or death” way.

“I…” Richie trailed off, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“…yeah. I do. I have since we were 12.”

It felt so good to finally get that off his chest. Not just a spur of the moment babble that was ignored, but an actual confession in private. Years, upon years, upon years of holding it in…all let out. He wanted to say more, lots more, but he didn’t want to make things worse than they already were. He just couldn’t.

Eddie nodded, rubbing his own arm up and down. It was something he did when he got anxious or nervous. But another one of his tics that was very noticeable was his constant lack of eye contact. In stressful situations, or when he was uncomfortable, Eddie would look absolutely anywhere other than the person he was talking to. And right now, he just kept looking at Richie’s feet. Plain white socks that ended just a bit above his ankles. It had a red and blue stripe as well. In that moment, every single detail of Richie’s pair of socks was vital, important information that he needed to know.

“A-Alright…”

What? That’s all he had to say in response?

“The hell do you mean ‘Alright’?” Richie huffed, eyes glaring behind his glasses.

“It’s just…well…h-how do you know? How do you know you love me as…as more than a friend?”

He needed to take a seat after that question. There were so many things to say regarding it. What should he share? What should he keep to himself? Questions spiraled in his mind, like a huge swarm of wasps, stinging his skill with a dull buzzing pain. Part of him felt like this was an elaborate prank—to ridicule him. But he knew better than that. He knew Eddie better than that. None of the losers, especially Eddie, would ever do something like that to anyone of them. He just needed to be honest. If that’s what Eddie wanted to know, then that’s what he would tell Eddie.

“I just want to know, Richie. Please?”

It took him a moment, but he shook his head.

“I…I know I love you because I think about you all the time. Ever since we became friends. When I’m with you I feel…good. I feel really good, like happy. It sucks when you’re not with me, Eds. I mean, like, I can handle it and I’ll be ok, but it doesn’t feel great. These past few weeks have been torture. I missed you. I missed your stupid fucking shorts that make you look like Richard Simmons. I even missed that fucking fanny pack because I think it’s cute on you! That’s how I know I love you, Eds! I freaked the fuck out when you broke your arm, man! I put it back in place because I wanted to be the one to fix you. And, God, I wanted to sign it so bad, but I was scared! Did you know I carry an extra inhaler on me, just in case you need it? Yeah. I do. I still have that card you got me for my 16th birthday. How do I know I love you? Seriously?!”

Richie was holding back tears and he didn’t even know why. Pouring his heart out like this, having to prove his love, it was overwhelming. And Eddie could see that. He could see the pain in Richie’s eyes, in the movements of his hands, and the tone of his voice. It was heartbreaking to see. Anyone would agree on that.

“Richie…”

He took a deep breath, putting an end to his ranting. His tongue felt like rubber from talking so much. It felt numb, like a big wad of gum inside of his mouth. Hues of pink dusted over his pale and freckled cheeks. God, he was so embarrassed. He wished Pennywise would come back and drag him down to the sewers. That would be better than standing here in front of Eddie, humiliated and defeated.

“I’m not mad at you, Rich. Honest. I just wanted to know how you knew because…I think…I think I do too…”

His head lifted up slowly, glasses on the tip of his nose. With a nervous swallow, he pushed them back up the bridge of his nose. His ears must be clogged. He must be dreaming. He must have died back in the Neibolt house. There must be some explanation as to why this was happening because it definitely wasn’t real. Was it?

“I meant like, being gay. Not loving you. Or, well, I do…I think? I…I don’t know.” Eddie sputtered.

A smile tugged at the corner of Richie’s mouth. He couldn’t help it. The tear that had rolled down his cheek was now partially dry, but he wiped the excess away with the back of his hand anyways. It left a faint outline on his skin. The fear that had been plaguing him for what seems like his entire childhood, was now subsiding slowly. It was evaporating into thin air, rising into the clouds, gone forever. He had hope. That’s all he needed.

“Wh-What do you mean?” He asked.

“Well, I like girls, though I’ve never kissed one, I just know I like them. But…I also have thoughts about guys, too. Like um, that one kid from our P.E class back in 10th grade? I thought he was…cute? And um…well, George Michael from ‘WHAM!’, but everyone finds him hot, right?” Eddie chuckled, trying to ignore the rapid beating of his heart.

Richie nodded, chuckling as well.

“And, uh, well…you, I think? I don’t know if it’s because you’re my best friend or what, but I…I don’t know. After hearing about your, uh, your feelings for me, and everything you just said…I think I feel the same?” Eddie’s voice was barely above a whisper.

The air in the room felt heavy, but that might’ve been because they were in the garage. It also felt hot, but Richie knew that it wasn’t just because it was August. It was because of the scenario. His cheeks were burning hot, no doubt a bright red, just like Eddie’s were. He wanted to lean over and cup them in his hands, brushing his thumbs on his soft skin before kissing him. That’s what Richie wanted more than anything. To kiss Eddie. To hold him. He’d do anything for it. Anything.

“You think? Or know?” Richie questioned.

“That’s what I’m trying to say, Richie. I only think. Well, I know I like guys…but I think I love you. I can’t be sure until…” He trailed off.

“Until what?”

Eddie took a step closer to Richie, only a couple feet of distance between them. At a closer proximity, Richie could see faint streaks of sunscreen on his face, most like because of his mother. Even if it was pouring rain out and very cloudy, Ms. Kaspbrak would make Eddie wear sunscreen all over his body. He practically smelled like it every day, but Richie didn’t mind it. In fact, he rather liked it.

“Richie, I…I want you to kiss me.”

His knees practically gave out, forcing him to press his palm harder into the workbench for stability. A cold sweat washed over his body, and he shivered hard. That was something Eddie had told him many times before in his dreams, but never in real life. This was like a dream come true for him. Richie wasn’t even that intense when it came to religion, but he prayed nearly every night for Eddie to love him like he loved him. He got on his knees, cried in his hands, and begged a higher power to let him be happy. And he could only be happy with Eddie.

“Eds, are you serious?”

“Yes, I am. It’ll help me figure out my feelings. W-Will you?”

Richie nodded, his heart skipping a beat, then another, then another. He felt like he might pass out on the floor right then and there. A few harsh blinks brought him back to reality, shaking his head a little bit like a wet dog. Clearing his throat, he tried to figure out where to put his hands.

“Just, hold on…” Eddie held up a finger, opening his fanny pack.

Doing his best to not let out a laugh, Richie watched as Eddie took a few puffs from his inhaler. At this point, he had figured out that he didn’t really need the inhaler, but it was like a psychological thing at this point. The placebo effect. Or “gazebo” as Richie would constantly remind him. He really would not let that little slip up go. Eddie couldn’t blame him though. It was pretty funny.

“Ok. Um, just a quick one, ok?” Eddie suggested, but it was more like a statement.

In response, Richie nodded and tried to calm his heart down. Even though he had dreamed about this numerous times, he wasn’t sure where to start. He couldn’t just do what he did in his dreams because…well he just couldn’t. So, slowly, he moved his hands up to Eddie’s face but was stopped when Eddie put some hand sanitizer in the palms of Richie’s hands.

“Are you fucki- whatever, I’m not really surprised.” Richie scoffed, rubbing the sanitizer into his skin as Eddie smiled.

Once that was done, and after reassuring Eddie that he had no STD’S and that he had brushed his teeth that morning, he finally cupped Eddie’s face with his hands. Unsure of what to do with his, Eddie just kept his at his side. He watched as Richie drew closer but closed his eyes right away. The second Richie’s lips touched Eddie’s, both of them could have sworn that their bodies were well over 100 degrees. Their skin felt like it was on fire, as if they were standing on the face of the sun.

Just as Eddie was about to kiss back, Richie pulled away, hands still holding Eddie’s face. He could feel the warmth radiating from his cheeks, which caused him to bite back a smile. The smaller friend looked as red as his shorts. A piece of his hair, which was usually combed back nicely, hung in his face. It was a clump of strands that curled upwards slightly. It made Richie’s stomach do backflips.

“So…how was it?” Richie asked softly.

Eddie stood still, almost paralyzed about what happened. His hands were firmly placed at his sides, inhaler poking out of his fanny pack. And, almost immediately, a tear rolled down his slightly tanned cheek. Then another, and another, and another from the other eye, followed by more. Pretty soon, Eddie’s face was littered with teardrops. Richie’s heart sank to his stomach, immediately pulling Eddie into a hug.

“God, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have…”

“I love you, Richie.”

It was just a mumble in his shirt at first, but then he pushed Eddie away slightly. Using his thumbs, he wiped the tears of his first love away. Once they were all gone, Richie asked him to repeat himself. He was certain that it was all in his head. God knows how many times Richie imagined Eddie saying those words to him.

“I love you, Richie. I really do. I know because…because I want you to kiss me again.” He sniffled.

“Is that a bad thing…?” Richie asked.

Eddie shook his head, a little smile on his face.

“No, no, I’m just…I’m sorry for avoiding you. I love being with you too, Rich. I was just…scared, I guess.”

Another tear threatened to leave Eddie’s blue-grey eyes. Not wanting that to happen, Richie pressed his lips against them, giving them each a separate kiss. It caused Eddie to giggle, swatting him away playfully.

“It’s ok. I know how scary this can be. But I’ve got you, ok? I promise.”

“What do you mean? Like…like you want to…?” Eddie’s eyes were wide and curious.

“Well, I’d like to be together. But only if you want to.”

With no hesitation, Eddie nodded his head vigorously. In that moment, everything felt right with the world. Richie was no longer worried about being rejected, being alone, or never finding love. He had it right here. He was right in front of him. With his lanky, yet muscular, arms, he wrapped his lover in a hug. It wasn’t too tight, but close enough to be comforting.

“Wow, so, we’re dating now…” Eddie let out an airy laugh.

Richie, who was still holding Eddie close, nodded. He didn’t want to let go of him. He never did. His dreams had finally come true, and he was happy. The happiest he had ever been in a long time.

“Yeah, fucking awesome. But being gay, especially right now in the 80s, it’s no picnic.” His voice, although soft, was cautious.

Eddie pulled away from the hug, giving his boyfriend a smile. He knew that it was the truth. The AIDS epidemic certainly wasn’t helping gay people feel welcome in the country. His mother would have a fit if she found out that he was dating a man, especially Richie Tozier. But it was his life, not hers. And as for everyone else who didn’t like people like him and Richie…

“Fuck them.” Eddie huffed.

Richie raised an eyebrow, smirking slightly. He always loved it when Eddie cussed. Maybe that was a weird thing to like, but he didn’t care. Any curse word sounds good coming from Eddie’s mouth. Then again, anything that Eddie said sounded good to Richie.

“Yeah, fuck them.” Richie chuckled.

[hippography]

This is an original 1935 photo of stablemates Omaha (on the outside) and Sir Beverley (on the inside) training at Aqueduct for the Kentucky Derby. American racing is enamored of sprinters and track records. Perhaps it is because most of American racing is dirt oriented where you can harrow and roll the track so it easily resembles cement with a thin layer of sand thrown on it. Maybe it is something in the American character that loves speed in all its manifestations. Whatever the reason, Omaha and American racing were out of sync. Certainly Omaha was successful on the track in the States, but he wasn’t truly appreciated for his talents. It would take a four year season in England to do just that. Omaha was a tall, just shy of 17 hands and tipping the scales at 1,300 lbs. chestnut colt with a striking white blaze. He was large in every sense of the word and wherever he was stabled, he required that the partition be removed between two stalls so that one roomy stall could be created for him. Unlike his famous sire, Gallant Fox, whose indolent nature was well known, Omaha enjoyed running. But he had one idiosyncrasy that was known to only a handful of people. If another horse bumped him, he would turn quickly and savage the other runner. This explained why his regular rider, Willie Saunders, took him very wide and around horses in most of his races. 

Horse racing Legends

[jamesnord]

Five minutes after meeting up in his hotel lobby we took the elevator down one floor to the parking garage. I’d only met the car's owner once before but was struck once again by the sense of motion and restlessness he exudes, like he isn’t a person you could imagine sleeping. Anyway, I was in town for work, but was sneaking in a ride in the Singer he had just taken delivery of the day before and as we crossed the overly polished floors of the hotel in Beverley Hills the car was tucked into a corner, blocked by a column. There is an electronic hum moments before the engine turns over, a kind of waking up that happens before the explosion of exhaust noise, which bounced around the walls of the parking garage. ⁣ ⁣ So I’m 20 feet underground in Beverly Hills, laughing like an idiot wondering, how the hell do you get in a car that expensive. All the sudden I felt like Edward Scissorhands clumsy and dangerous, and opened the door with the care of a surgeon removing a gallbladder. Finally settled in, I had to wonder if I should have taken my shoes off before sitting down? ⁣ ⁣ After some u-turns and wrong turns we made it onto Mulholland and as the accelerator neared the floor and my heart rate spiked above 150bpm, I wondered if maybe this was the best cure for depression. ⁣ ⁣ We stopped at an overlook to take photos and I couldn’t help but notice that while the engine was cooling down, my heart was still racing. Just looking at the car elicits a reaction, it’s like seeing someone particularly famous, your autonomic nervous system spikes and I had to think that maybe that’s what makes these cars so special, that they are, well, special. Only 75 exist, only 35 will make it to the US and I’ll probably never see one again in my life, but I’ll never forget that drive and my sweating palms and stupid smile and a perfect thing that a group of people made because they wanted to see if they could.

[dubljarnasims]

Genevieve Vatore

Part of the 5th generation of my legacy, Genevieve is one of the friendliest and nicest sims around. Even Allison Volkov likes her. No CC included in the download - please see the list and links below.

Sibling(s): Julianna Vatore Partner(s): Scottsdale Dubljarna

✨ DOWNLOAD HERE (Google Drive)

Clothing/Accessories:

Earrings - Overkillsimmer | Eun earrings

Glasses - Mint-Valentine | Abby glasses

Jumpsuit - Pixelette | Marigold jumpsuit

Nails - Bobur | Round nails

Piercings - Overkillsimmer | Aisha nose ring set

Shoes - Nell | Pixicat simple boots

Hair/Makeup/Skin Details:

Blush - Northern Siberia Winds | Blush n8

Eyebags - Kismet Sims | Eyebags plus

Eyebrows - Pralinesims | N151 sam

Eyelashes - Kijiko | EA eyelash remover

Eyelids - Magic Bot | Eyelid details

Eyeliner - Pralinesims | N100 ava

Eyeshadow - Pralinesims | N09 pearly cupcake

Freckles - Ratmaze | Bonbon freckles

Hair - Liliili | Beverley hair update 1030

Lips - RemusSirion | N320 initiation

Tattoo - Overkillsimmer | Sarah right arm tattoo

Tattoo - Reevaly | Female tattoo n6

Tattoo - Sims4Satan | Bohemian rhapsody head tattoo

Teeth - Simbience | Teeth #1

Defaults:

Skin - Luumia | Vanilla skin default

Eyes - Pralinesims | Oasis v2 default

🐌 Many thanks to the CC creators! 🐌

@bobur-tsr @kijiko-sims @kismet-sims @luumia @magic-bot

@mintvalentine @nell-le @northernsiberiawinds @overkillsimmer @pixelette-cc

@pralinesims @ratmazeplays @remussirion @reevaly @simbience

@sims4satan

[yr-obedt-cicero]

okay so i never fully remembered what my question was but!! i did remember that it had to do with philip’s social life or hobbies and so my new question is do we have any information on that? like if he had hobbies besides going to bars and not paying his bills or like who his friends were (besides price yk). i imagine there’s not much on this but anything helps!!! love you bestie <33

Philip seems to have taken notable interest in theater and literature. Both of his friends, Thomas Rathbone and Stephen Price had a considerable relation to theater. As Rathbone, one of Philip's old classmates, writes to his sister about his death;

At the theatre I was informed of it about 9 O'clock Monday evening - I immediately ran to the House near the State Prison from whence I was told they dare not remove him - Picture yourself my dear Girl my emotions which must have assailed me on my arrival at his room to which I was admitted as his old College classmate.

Source — Historical Magazine: And Notes and Queries Concerning the Antiquities, History, and Biography of America, Volume 1

Additionally, both Price and Philip were going to see the play, The West Indian by Cumberland, when they happened to encounter Eacker. [x] Stephen Price would also go on to be very influential to America's theater business, and became the founder of theater management.

Philip also enjoyed reading. At the young age of eight, he was already requesting books about geography;

I enclose for my little friend Philip a copy of the elements of Geography, which I mentioned.

Source — Tench Coxe to Alexander Hamilton, [10 July 1790]

He also seemed to have dabbled in poetry with Hamilton mentioning that Eliza would give him an Ovid, referring to the Roman poet, Publius Ovidius Naso, who is often ranked as one of the three canonical poets of Latin;

Your Mama has got an Ovid for you and is looking up your Mairs introduction.

Source — Alexander Hamilton to Philip Hamilton, [December 5, 1791]

Prior to his death he was also borrowing a book from the local library. [x] There is also the possibility of him being given his father's old books. [x]

When Philip was older, he was also part of a literature society. It was a Literature Society composed mainly of boys in their early twenties. It looks as though the members belonged to the same generational group, and were all rather acquainted with each other. A reappearing pattern being that; most of them were from New York, studied law, and graduated from Columbia in the 1790s.

About this time, Mr. Jones was a member of a literary society, (of which the late Peter A. Jay was president,) composed, among others, of Nathan Sandford, Charles Baldwin, John Ferguson, Jas. Alexander, Rudolph Bunner, Goveurneur Ogden, the first Philip Hamilton, William Bard, Wm. A. Duer, Philip Church, John Duer, and Beverley Robinson; of whom the last five are the only survivors.

Source — Memorial of the Late Honorable David S. Jones

Funny enough, there are a lot of familiar faces, and two of which would later assist Philip in his duel against George Eacker. David Samuel Jones, who was a 1796 graduate of Columbia College, would later help Philip convince his uncle John Barker Church to lend them his guns for the encounter and was one of his second's. Additionally, Philip's cousin also went there, Philip Church, who would also later be his second. Philip seems to have had a close relationship with his cousin Church, as Church was usually visiting the Hamiltons' and assisting his uncle Hamilton in Law or the Quasi-war.

Overall, Philip was quite “popular” and well-liked by many other boys his age, likely due to the importance of his surname. He was known for being very smart, gregarious, and handsome, with his charming rebellious side he appealed to plenty of adolescent men from his generation. The Evening Post considered him; “a young man of most amiable disposition and cultivated mind; much esteemed and affectionately beloved by all who had the pleasure of his acquaintance.” [x]

He seemed to make friends easily, other than just the previously mentioned Price and Rathbone, but also Washington's step-grandson; George Washington Parke Custis (Also known as Wash or Washy), who he attended school with for a period of time [x], they were also childhood playmates — as the Hamilton children visited the Washingtons' often when the two families lived in Philadelphia. Wash even wrote Hamilton a condolence letter after Philip's death, and in it he said; “We were brought up as it were, together in our earlier years and that mutual friendship which then existed between us, would I have no doubt have at a future time ripened into esteem.” [x]

There was also the small portion of time when Lafayette's son, Georges Washington de Lafayette, stayed with the Hamiltons' in 1795 while they awaited for conflict to die down so he could stay with Washington. [x] (Which actually brings up a funny story about Hamilton losing Lafayette's son) Georges and Philip were only three years apart in age, so it's imaginable they may have found each other's company agreeable. The only opposition being that Georges seemed in a state of despondency during his time with the Hamiltons' - likely missing his home country and parents - he was described as losing weight and being depressed, if not absent from their home and off with his tutor. [x] And later on he never wrote about his stay with them at all. So, I can't affirm it was a pleasurable experience for him, and there isn't any considerable evidence to suggest a friendship between the boys.

Another apparent interest of Philip's was traveling, and he traveled to Providence, Rhode island, and Philadelphia on his own during his youth. In a condolence letter, Rush says Philip was a charming guest at their residence during the last trip and says he made great friends with his son, who was likely Richard Rush since there was only two years difference between the boys;

It may perhaps help to sooth your grief when I add to that united expression of Sympathy, that your Son had made himself very dear to my family during his late visit to Philadelphia, by the most engaging deportment. His visits to us were daily, and after each of them he left us with fresh impressions of the correctness of his understanding and manners, and of the goodness of his disposition. To One of my Children he has endeared himself by an Act of friendship & benevolence that did great honor to his heart, and will be rememb[e]red with gratitude by Mrs. Rush, and myself as long as we live. My Son has preserved a record of it in an elegant and friendly letter which he received from him After his return to New York.

Source — Benjamin Rush to Alexander Hamilton, [November 26, 1801]

For even more options, there is a catalog of graduates at Columbia College which show the names of Philip's classmates. [x]

Hope this helps!

[amremovals]

Is It Worth to Hire a Professional Beverley Removals Company?

Moving your office or home supplies from point A to point B physically is one of the most important parts of any move. Because this is typically the part of the moving process that is also evaluated, it is even more important for you to prepare well and resist the urge to handle this portion of the move yourself. 

There are undoubtedly a lot of good reasons to work with a seasoned Beverley Removals firm. Our experts at AM Removals collaborate as a team to complete all relocation-related tasks as quickly as possible, including packing, unloading, weighing the cargo, transporting, bringing into the house, and so on. 

In addition to saving time, hiring professionals may save a great deal of family strife brought on by accidents, incapacitations, and reluctance on the part of some family members to participate actively in the process of relocating. 

What is the Work of a Beverley Removals company?

A professional service that can make relocating simpler is provided by Beverley Removals. A removal company may assist you with moving your belongings from your old house to your new one, albeit the specific services they offer may differ. They provide a variety of services, based on your requirements and financial situation. 

For instance, you might go with a basic service where you pack up everything you own into boxes that the removal company provides and they just transfer it from point A to point B. Alternatively, you may hire a full-service packing company or pack the majority of your stuff yourself and leave the more delicate pieces to the pros. 

Why Use a Skilled Removal Company?

Knowledgeable packers

Packing is an art for Removals Driffield firms; they'll make sure everything is packed securely to prevent breakage. You may also rest easy knowing that your things are in the capable hands of experts with the knowledge and tools needed to move them securely.

More dependable

The fact that removal firms are typically more dependable than enlisting the aid of friends and family for moving assistance is another benefit of utilizing them. There's a greater likelihood of things breaking or becoming harmed if you do it yourself. Additionally, a removal firm will be more dependable in ensuring that you are relocated out on schedule, since you'll probably need more time to do it yourself.

Less demanding

Since relocating may be really stressful, it's a good idea to hire a removal business. They will take care of everything, so you won't have to worry and can relax knowing that your possessions are in good hands.

Injury risk is lower

Because removal companies specialize in lifting large goods, using Removals Driffield services reduces the risk of injury. On the other hand, if you're not, you could damage yourself. A move-related injury is the last thing you want to happen since it might make you feel even more stressed. 

In summary

Hiring a removal firm to help with your relocation has several benefits overall. It can ensure that everything moves securely and safely while saving you time and frustration. The whole moving procedure might be considerably less stressful and more pleasurable with their assistance. AM Removals is a fantastic option if you want to work with a moving company that offers excellent services. 

They provide an upfront, transparent, and reasonably priced removal service. To guarantee you receive the greatest service, we make sure our cooperation is centered on honesty. They offer removals, packing, furniture disassembly, and storage to ensure that the process of moving house is as simple as possible. https://medium.com/@amremovals1/is-it-worth-to-hire-a-professional-beverley-removals-company-c5c778335252

[amremovalsblog]

Why Invest in Removals Services in Driffield is a Best Idea?

There are gazillion things to handle during relocation, from organizing logistics to packing and moving possessions. This is where skilled Removals Driffield services come in, providing knowledge, effectiveness, and comfort to ensure a smooth and stress-free shift.

[corainne]

Peter and Abigail, and their relationship

I think it is interesting that Peter and Abigail, as cousins, mirror each other in quite a few ways, they are both biracial, both grow up neglected by their parents in favour of a sick parent/sibling and thus are forced to mature more quickly and take care of themselves, have problems relying on and confiding in their parents, and find the home and attention they were missing in the Folly, and later Beverley. The only difference is that Abigail gets the support from the Folly while being significantly younger.

And because of that I find it quite understandable (and beautiful) that Peter keeps giving Abigail those opportunities he never got as a child. As far as we know Peter didn’t have any adult he could go to and trust when he was Abigail's age when he had a drug addict for a father and a mother who was too busy working to provide for her family to give him the emotional support he needed. He didn’t have anyone invested enough in his schooling to help him when he needed it. The only option Peter had was to run away because he couldn’t think of a better way to remove himself from a harmful situation.

And all the things he was missing Abigail gets from Peter and, through him, Nightingale. She can go to the Folly, and later on Bev's, when she wants to, she has four adults who are willing to give her the love and attention she needs, she gets tutoring from Nightingale, and through that someone taking an interest in her education that goes beyond expressing disappointment in her failures. She gets a second home, a second family.

Peter just keeps going out of his way to give Abigail what he never had, and I think thats beautiful

[williamvinegrad-2024-blog]

We return to ground gallery to catch up with artist William Vinegrad who helps run Ground Gallery on Beverley Road in Hull, to find out all about his work which aims to remove plants from their natural environments and capture them in new and innovative contexts.

[kissmyglassblog]

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