#Voids your insurance or at least it did ours

[phantasmechanical]

hello what is tumblr for if not ranting into the void, so allow me to tell the void things I wish I could tell the patients who come into the ER where I work

I do not need to see a picture of it

I do not need you to (re)move your clothing to show it to me

I do not need any details or context at all actually

Nope not your allergies either.

Anything you could possibly be coming into this particular ER for can be described in 10 words or less.

I am not clinical staff.

Oh my god I am not clinical staff

I cannot give you medical advice, I cannot give you medicine, I cannot do anything clinical because I am not. Clinical. Staff. That’s why they wear scrubs and I’m in business casual.

I am not trying to screw you over when I say I can’t discuss insurance with you. It is not just hospital policy it’s an entire law called EMTALA

Visitors: I’m gonna need you to put on your listening ears. When I say “I’ll open the double doors around the corner” to let you into the ER, that does not translate to “the single door directly next to you” just because that is the closest door you can see.

Visitors part 2: I don’t know who your mom is. She is not listed as “guy in tie dye’s mom” in our system. Tell me her name and I will tell you where to go.

I can’t tell you how long it’s going to be because I don’t know.

I can’t tell you when they’ll get your test results back because I don’t know.

If you leave your car running to come in and ask me how long the wait is, you are probably not experiencing a medical emergency.

A broken nail is not a medical emergency, especially when it didn’t even break past the quick. (yes this really happened)

Having “a glob of earwax stuck in your ear” is also not a medical emergency. (this literally happened tonight)

As a chronic pain sufferer, I completely understand that chronic pain can make you feel like you’re dying. I can see you’re hurting, and I sympathize, but you can afford a few minutes that someone who’s having a stroke can’t. Life or death has to come first, no matter how debilitating the pain is.

I know your self-pay estimate is unreasonably high. I know it’s ridiculous. What I don’t understand is how you can think that I have any control over that when I’m working hourly doing overnight registration.

Our doctors are not miracle workers. The meds we offer are not miracle drugs. Do not come back to the ER because it’s been 24 hours and you’re still having flu like symptoms. Sometimes time is the only option.

If you’ve been exposed to Covid, you tested positive for Covid, and you’re only having mild Covid symptoms, I truly do not understand why you’re standing at my window. You have Covid.

When I say “have a seat and fill this out, then bring it back up” that does not mean stand directly in front of the window and block other people while you fill it out. Peepaw behind you is having chest pain get the fuck out of the way.

You are a 32 year old man with a low grade fever and a sore throat, why the FUCK did you send your mommy up here to check in for you

I promise I will believe that you’re sick without you laying down on the floor in front of my window. The doctor will believe that you’re sick even if you don’t get up out of the wheelchair to lay down in the floor of the waiting room.

“I don’t need to check in I just need a work note because I was sick yesterday” no

“I just need a pregnancy test. I haven’t taken one at home but—” no

“Can I just get [insert piece of medical equipment]” no

“Can I wait in my car and y’all just text me when it’s my turn” no

I have heard someone tell me they feel like they’re going to pass out at least once a shift for the entire time I’ve worked here. Not a single one of them ever has.

Give your child medicine!! If you say she had fever we will not think you’re a liar just because the Motrin brought it down. We can see with our eyes that she feels sick we don’t think you’re trying to trick us somehow.

If you come in vomiting like you’re possessed and I can smell weed on you before you even get to the window, you are nooooot gonna like the diagnosis you’re about to get. (cannabis hyperemesis syndrome)

The main hospital doors have a big sign that says they close on the weekends and after 7pm in the evening. That big sign says to enter through the ER. I need you to read the words on the sign. I do not need you to tell me the main hospital doors are locked.

[meowymeowzers]

OwO? What do you take me for classpect wise? <>

alright :3 if anyone reading this is not familiar with homestuck/classpecting, i included a small glossary of important words.

i immediately ruled out the (both passive and active) destruction and stealing classes. this is prince (active destruction), bard (passive destruction, thief (active stealing) and rogue (passive stealing)

ive also ruled out aspects i view as logical, not emotional, which are light, time and mind. of course, time is also the destruction aspect, which simply does not feel right for you. i considered ruling out void, too, but did not.

at the moment we have exploitation, manipulation, creation, understanding, and embodiment classes.

im leaning towards a passive class, if only because to me you have never seemed like much of a fighter when not necessary.

now im ruling out rage and doom aspects, two aspects generally accompanied with well, anger and suffering. next goes breath, because you have always seemed like a leader (successful session leaders tend to be passive classes, looking at you karkat) that was one with their companions- not an independent figure that they simply look to for guidance.

we're left with space, blood, void, hope, heart, and life for aspects.

im going to knock off void, because while you are good at knowing and keeping secrets, it only shows itself in people you already know- not strangers. a void player would know anyone is keeping a secret no matter how little they knew them and how well they hid it.

next i remove blood from the cards. blood is the complete opposite of breath, meaning while you would have total freedom as a breath player, you would have absolutely none as a blood player. while you care deeply for your friends, blood showcases a complete dependency on them- at least in my, rather fanon, interpretation.

below, a list your possible classes (all are passive) and aspects:

class: page (explotation), heir (manipulation), sylph (creation), seer (understanding), and muse (embodiment)

aspect: space, hope, heart, and life

pages inspire others to use the pages aspect. it is, possibly, the most passive aspect that is not an embodiment class. this in between of regularly passive and the helpful passiveness of a muse doesn't seem like you- nor does the extreme slow build. im ruling it out, and seer for a similar reason-

seers are less of a slow build than pages, but knowing you, i think your knowledge of your aspect would be instinctual, even if much much more limited- even more so than a mage.

a sylph fixes their aspect. in kanayas case (sylph of space), she theoretically wouldve known how to teleport through space without harming it, or harming it the least. she could have mended rips in it, and could have made small pocket dimensions useful in frog breeding. you wouldnt have to worry about your aspect being harmed in the first place, maybe that reassurance is your inspiration reaching far into paradox space to insure it is safe, maybe its something else.

now, heir or muse?

heirs change their aspect, manipulating it and making it something easily manageable. of course, less so than a witch. lets use john (heir of breath) as an example. he can inspire change in the wind and in freedom, guiding breath while it guides him as well. hes constantly doing whatever the hell he wants, always being changed by his complete freedom.

muses are their aspect, in the most core manner. calliope, our only example of a muse, is creative in every way she can be. she becomes creativity to inspire through it. for not being an understanding class, muses understand their aspect in their core- even if it isnt conscious and more innate.

what was it again i said about you not being a seer because your knowledge was instinctual, not learned?

so, youre a muse. but what is your aspect....

space? ah, calliope. that wouldnt fit. you love drawing and writing, but you are not creativity itself. many think they are a space player because they enjoy the arts, but it is so much more than enjoying it, especially in the case of a muse.

a muse of life would be explained as brimming with life, never having a dull moment and always enjoying their life no matter what happens. i dont think that fits you very well, does it? everyone has their moments.

now...hope and heart. this is what ive been dreading the entire time. really, this couldve been a few sentences about you being a muse and the rest about hope or heart.

hope...you would inspire inspiration, basically. everyone looks to you knowing you can make what you want happen. because of your inspiration reaching everywhere, you could stare down the barrel of a shotgun and know you were to be saved soon. i always see an air of haughtiness behind the pure joy, the everlasting positivity. yes, you inspire people, but now you expect them to almost serve you. you believe you wouldnt even need to godtier, you wouldnt die because everyone loves you. i dont think you think like that, but maybe its the pale speaking.

muse of heart. you inspire people to express their emotions, becoming one with their inner selves. you help people bring themselves inner peace by helping them understand their turmoil.

youre the ultimate emotional support, the sessions crutch. and if you allow them to rely on you too much, they may become dependant on you- so be careful.

for fun, heres a muse of heart land i came up with: land of mazes and belonging. i can explain it more if u want me to :3

glossary under the cut

passive classes: classes that tend to strategize more than fight and normally do not engage in physical combat. generally better leaders than active classes. best example in canon is john egbert, imo

active classes: typically physical fighters, tend to wield their aspect as a weapon while passive classes use it as a shield. sometimes the de facto leader of a group, but in sburb they tend to fall out of this role with a passive class replacing them. best example is dave strider, with karkat vantas being a close second.

classes: one part of the classpect puzzle. sorted into groups of two, such as the destruction, stealing, and understanding classes. your class is how you wield your aspect.

aspects: the second part of the classpect puzzle. not sorted into groups, unless you count inverts- an aspects invert is its total opposite. they determine what your powers will manifest as.

[sharpinsurance]

How to Keep Your Home Insurance Current on Vacation

Taking a vacation is always exciting. Whether you’re headed out for an adventure, a family visit, or a trip somewhere warm, you’re going to be away from home for a while. Did you know that it’s part of your agreement with your insurer to have someone check in on your home? Insurance companies generally require a check-in every 48 to 72 hours if you’re away. If this isn’t done, you as the homeowner are at risk of a void insurance policy and potentially catastrophic repair costs. We’ll break down how to keep your home insurance current while

Why is my home insurance at risk of being voided? Home insurance is meant to offer coverage in the event of something catastrophic and sudden. That’s why it doesn’t cover regular home maintenance. When we purchase an insurance policy, we are inherently making an agreement with our insurance company. Part of this is ensuring our home is not left vacant for too long. Why? Vacancy means damage goes unnoticed for longer and it can also attract vandals, thieves, and other nefarious characters.

How often does a vacant house need to be checked for insurance purposes? How often should someone check your house when you are away?? Generally, insurers will require someone to check on your home at least once every 48 to 72 hours. You may also be required to turn off and drain the water if you are going away for an extended period over winter (and do not have someone living at your home full-time). The exact requirements vary by the home insurance policy.

How can I prepare my house before my vacation? While it is important to remember that every insurance policy is different, the majority of companies will call for similar requirements. Even if you are away for a small vacation, you are responsible for guaranteeing that your property will be looked over from time to time. Consider organizing a plan for a trusted family member or friend to come into your house every day while you are away to make sure that your house is in good shape. They should ensure:

Your heat is working.

There are no taps running.

There is no water in the basement or main floor (especially if it has rained).

Windows and doors are securely closed and locked.

Mail is picked up.

There is no damage to the exterior of your home from a storm or wind, such as loose roofing or fallen branches.

Concerned about pipes bursting? You could shut off your water supply and drain your pipes prior to your departure. Even though it might seem trivial, your insurance company wants to guarantee that it isn’t covering a house that is at higher risk than originally agreed upon.

The older your home is, the more beneficial it is to give your house a good once-over before you go. This is especially true if you’re leaving for the winter or any longer trips. Check your roof, your appliances, and so on to ensure they’re in good working order. Make sure your house’s doors are all locked when you leave, including pet doors and garage doors. This guide offers more thorough steps for preparing your home inside and out for your vacation.

How long can I leave my house unoccupied? Many people ask how long can you leave your house unattended, Many insurance policies impose a time limit on property vacancy, typically around 30 days. Exceeding this limit could render your policy null and void.

What are the home insurance rules for when I’m on vacation?

Duration of Vacancy: When your home remains unoccupied for over 30 consecutive days, it’s classified as vacant.

Policy Details: Dive into the nitty-gritty of your insurance policy. Understand the specific inspection requirements and compliance measures for your home, along with the permissible duration of vacancy.

Risks of Vacant Properties: Empty homes are magnets for risks like break-ins, vandalism, and water damage. Regular inspections are your shield against these threats.

Coverage Implications: Neglecting inspection requirements could lead to reduced coverage, policy cancellations, or claim denials if an incident occurs.

Consult Your Insurer: Don’t hesitate to reach out to your insurance provider. Clarify any uncertainties regarding inspection protocols and ensure strict adherence to policy terms.

By staying vigilant and implementing these measures, you can keep your home secure and your insurance coverage intact while you’re away.

Why do I need a house-sitter? There is a section in most home insurance policies that restrict how much an insurer is obligated to pay out if damages are incurred while a house is left vacant and unsupervised. It only takes an instant for a situation to arise, no matter how short of a time you are away for. Additionally, damages can be mitigated if they are stopped early enough – such as if a tap started to leak – but with no one to regularly monitor the state of your home these issues can grow out of control and cause some serious problems.

It’s not uncommon for costly repairs to arise due to negligence over a long period. But as long as you are up to date on the upkeep of your home and can demonstrate this to your insurer, your coverage should remain secure.

Vacation Planning: Navigating Home, Condo, and Tenant Insurance for Peace of Mind. When you’re planning a vacation, it’s crucial to consider how your home insurance, including condo and tenant insurance, fits into the picture. For homeowners, ensuring the security of your property during your absence is paramount. Before you embark on your journey, it’s advisable to notify your insurance provider about your travel plans. This can help in case of any unexpected incidents like burglaries or damages, as your provider can offer guidance on the necessary steps to take.

Condo owners should also stay informed about their condo association’s insurance policies. Typically, the condo association’s insurance covers the building structure, but personal belongings and improvements made to the condo may require additional coverage. Before leaving for your vacation, double-check your condo insurance policy to ensure you have adequate protection.

For renters, tenant insurance plays a significant role during vacations. It not only covers your personal belongings but also provides liability coverage. In case of an incident in your rental property while you’re away, tenant insurance can help safeguard your interests. Before you travel, make sure you understand the terms of your policy and have your insurance documents readily accessible.

In summary, whether you’re a homeowner, condo owner, or tenant, reviewing your insurance policies and communicating your travel plans with your provider is a prudent step before going on vacation. It ensures that you’re adequately protected and can enjoy your getaway with peace of mind.

Did you know? If you’re new to home insurance, here’s a quick fact: The average cost to insure a home in Calgary is $1,923, slightly higher than the provincial average of $1,837 per year. In comparison, the average cost to get a home insurance in Edmonton is $1,504 annually.

If you aren’t certain as to what your responsibilities are, consider reading over your home insurance policy. Alternatively, you could always ask your home insurance broker to clarify for you. By doing this, you can formulate an appropriate plan for this sort of situation.

ORIGINALLY FOUND ON- Source: Sharp Insurance(https://sharpinsurance.ca/blog/home/how-to-keep-your-home-insurance-current-on-vacation/)

[law-office-of-spiro-k-pistiolas]

Denied Workers’ Compensation Claim? Consult Our CA Lawyers

When you pay an insurance provider a premium, you have the legal right to expect that the company will manage and act in an honest manner to pay out on any true claims you may have. If they don’t do this, they can be held legally responsible for what they did.

Each state has its own workers’ compensation system to try to cut down on the number of cases between employers and employees. Workers’ compensation means that if an employee gets hurt on the job, they are eligible for financial benefits. In return for these sure benefits, they promise not to sue their employers if they get hurt.

Reasons For Denying A Workers’ Compensation Claim

An insurance provider has a lot of reasons, some of which are good and some of which are not, to say no to your claim. Here are some of the most popular ones:

Insufficient coverage: They may say that your insurance policy doesn’t cover your claim. Check the “Exclusions” part of your policy to learn more about what is not covered. If the policy isn’t clear, it is interpreted in favorable terms for the person who bought it, not the insurance company.

Application mistakes: An insurance company could say that you lied on your original claim form in a way that makes your policy void.

Claim errors: Check your insurance policy to see what you need to do to let the insurance company know about a claim. Some deadlines are only 24 hours long.

Insurance fraud: False or inflated claims can be considered insurance fraud, which can lead to both civil and criminal penalties.

Bad faith denial: They won’t tell you this, but an insurance company might give you a lot of confusing reasons for why they don’t want to pay the claim.

There are also other reasons why a workers’ compensation claim might be turned down,

Not enough proof or paperwork

Not telling anyone about the accident quickly or at all

Not going to a doctor that the insurance-provider has approved

Conditions that already existed

When Can I File a Lawsuit Against the Insurance Company?

Every insurance company owes its clients a lot of things. They have to follow the rules of the deal (the policy), act honestly, and not do anything that is unfair to the business. Most of the time, these responsibilities mean that the insurance company can’t:

The claim was looked into too slowly and not well enough.

Declining to compensate for a claim when it is pretty clear who is at fault.

Not approving or rejecting a claim within a fair or set amount of time.

Putting an end to a claim with very little explanation.

Not defending you in an insurance case where at least one of the claims could be covered by your insurance policy.

Refusing a claim because of a mistake on the application after the time for appealing has passed.

Contact Our Lawyers

If your insurance claim has been denied, the trial attorneys at Pistiolas Law may be able to assist you. To schedule a complimentary consultation, please call (844) 414-1775.

[lesbianwyllravengard]

I'm actually so sick and fucking tired of people who think covid is comparable to the flu. Just bc you or a family member got it and didn't die doesn't mean it's not super fucking serious and life threatening, ESPECIALLY for disabled people/people with health issues/autoimmune disorders. Every time my father sees me wearing a mask he rants about how covid is just like the flu and that everyone is over reacting and [insert shitty conspiracy theory here] and it makes me so upset every goddamn time. I got covid half a year ago, despite doing everything right, thanks to my parents' stupidity. I was sick for 13 days, entirely bedridden and feverish for 9 of those days. I physically couldn't get out of bed, not even to piss, the entire first day my mother had to half carry me everywhere. Same thing the second day, when she dragged me to the doctor where I tested positive. The first five days, I couldn't even look at an electronic device and had to keep the lights off all the time bc I'd actually vomit. I had a migraine that didn't go away no matter what medicine I took, for the entire the first week. My nose was constantly stuffy and my sinuses were so backed up I couldn't breathe through my nose, which made breathing in general so difficult and painful bc my asthma was also exacerbated. So my chest hurt too. All my normal chronic pain was magnified tenfold. I had a 103 fever for three days in a row, then it fluctuated between 98-100 the rest of the time. Thinking about it right now I still remember the pain and how it felt. I've had strep throat, a lot as a kid. I've had chicken pox, and the flu several times, because my parents never fucking vaccinated us. I have never been more sick in my goddamn life than I was with covid. And this is just me. Yes I'm disabled and yes I'm still being tested for possible autoimmune disorders (my mom and her whole side of the family have them) but even still I'm not nearly as at risk as a lot of people, and I was still more affected than anyone in my entire family, who have all also gotten covid because of their own stupidity. My taste and smell were never affected, but I'm still losing hair from it, which is apparently also a symptom I never knew about.

Wear. Your fucking. Masks. Covid is still around, it's still super fucking serious, it is NOT just like the flu, and you had fucking better take it seriously. Even if you don't care about getting it yourself, at least show some goddamn consideration for others whose health and lives are at risk.

[black-coffee-and-sugar]

Azie killed it!!!

me praising a supergirl episode? i know, shocking. but 6x12 just came for me where i live! i knew it was going to be great but it surpassed my expectations. sister are really doing it for themselves! so many things to point out that were phenomenal but here’s what comes to mind rn:

- the camera work while kelly’s all distressed at the hospital, lil joey struggling to breathe, orlando looking so helpless > i was already stressed within 5 mins

- rankin literally saying “i’ll do everything i can to help these people” while rolling away to her private hospital room with access to trial medication when the residents of the heights probably don’t even have insurance or money to pay the bills. also rankin literally sucking the life out of this disadvantaged community, building wealth and pushing her political agenda on the backs of black people is the most realistic portrayal of true villainy that this show has ever given us

- kelly’s phone call to james in the stairwell, talking about how exhausting it is was so personal to me. i work in these types of communities all the time and it’s a hard fight. i get emotionally tired too. it does feel like screaming into the void, like one step forward and ten steps back. and i felt this for kelly.

- alex’s solution is to send respirators and nothing else? just makes me realize that while the super friends were protecting mxy and trying to capture nxyly, they were pretty much neglecting the heights. people who were literally dying and it’s horrifying to think of where their priorities lie. especially considering the fact that they could have handled the nxyly issue without alex so she can support her gf

- writer 1: how do we make the audience hate rankin some more?

  writer 2: have her kill a guy for a sandwich on white bread. it’ll make her look like even more of an asshole

but seriously, what kind of psychopathic shit was that?

- andrea has always been portrayed a shameless capitalist who only cares about grabbing eyeballs but it has never been highlighted as negatively as it was in this episode in that phone call with kelly 

- i think kelly reaching out to lena who isn’t even in national city really speaks to her desperation to have someone see her. someone hear her. someone fucking help and i’m glad she had at least diggle’s support

- that slim stack of bills is all it took for that woman to sell her soul to rankin? bruh...

- the super friends showing up to the heights, only concerned with tracking nxyly, not giving any amount of fucks about what kelly is trying to say enraged me. i know that was the point of the episode but STILL

- kara telling kelly that mxy can fix all this once they get him out of the crystal. what are you five? give me a goddamn break with this foolishness kara! so lil joey’s lungs are just supposed to hang on til whenever the fuck y’all save mxy? lena, please come and collect your wife

- kelly looking directly at kara when she mentions the word hope while dragging the super friends for their nonchalant behaviour > oof, a slap to the face

- i see nia had the one brain cell this week. she’s the only one who attempted to help kelly in whatever way she could. 

- brainy really said racism is still a problem in the 31st century and it did not surprise me. 

- seems like having tunnel vision is a danvers sisters trait. i get alex not being able to relate to kelly’s struggle but come on she’s your girlfriend. can’t you tell when she’s upset?

- i’m glad that they addressed j’onn choosing the appearance of a black man and how even though he may have been a target because of it, he still can’t relate fully to the experiences like kelly, james and diggle can. it’s optional for him. they don’t have that luxury to check out whenever it suits them

- kara talking about the anti-alien hate with the col and i would like to remind kara that she genuinely thought things were improving and that the division didn’t exist despite j’onn and brainy repeatedly telling her otherwise. because, once again, her physical appearance affords her privilege that no black person or visible alien will ever receive

- every kelly scene was so emotional i was bawling wtf. her talking about pushing her pain and anger down and trying to be positive and all smiles > 100% accurate 

- i can’t believe i’m saying this but i did not need the lena scenes. they should’ve just kept those out. on the other note, magical amazon package delivery

- guardian’s suit is so fucking badass!!! i’m glad little black girls will feel SEEN and INSPIRED in this episode. thank you azie

- kara was really out there getting her ass kicked by a human who just got powers for a few hours? stop nerfing her abilities!

- the way we got an actual scene of kelly carefully wrapping her hair, the say her name t shirt, the books on the coffee table > well done azie

- alex and kelly in the final scene was a good portrayal of an interracial relationship where one partner wants to but just will never understand the issue fully. alex just needs to be there for kelly and i’m glad that they didn’t make it a moment to educate her white gf about racial discrimination. they kept the focus where it needed to be. i’m also  glad that unlike the other soical justice topics we’ve had,  they didn’t try to make it seem like something that is so engrained into the fabric of society can be wrapped up with a neat little bow and be done with. there’s more fighting to do but at least it seems like kelly will have the support going forward

- the promo after such a powerful episode gave me whiplash. back to our regularly scheduled nonsense i guess

This episode holy shit. man it was amazing. azie is a talented writer and it’s easy to tell that she was drawing inspiration from real and personal experiences. it was very easy for me to relate to these scenes, especially the hospital ones. also makes me annoyed because they’ve been wasting all this potential and this episode is proof that the show and it’s storylines can be nuanced and still include superhero aspects. too bad this episode will likely become one of few in this show’s entire run that actually accomplishes that.

[tohellandbackanthology]

TH+B August Update 2020: a lesson in cross-border banking that nobody asked for!

Hi everyone! We know it’s been a hot minute since you last heard from our team, and that’s because we’ve been hard at work behind the scenes on editing, prepping, and designing the anthology. It’s the less glamorous part of the job, but it’s also been super enjoyable getting to experience the diverse stories, podfics, and poems our authors have written just for this project, as well as the unique art pieces our artists have created. Everybody’s effort and unique imaginations are on full display here, and we can tell you with certainty that as a finished product, To Hell + Back is going to be an absolutely beautiful keepsake.

Now, to get the the nitty-gritty of where we’re at in our timeline: we regret to inform you that we’ve been experiencing ongoing issues with receiving the funds we raised from Indiegogo (more on that at the end of the post), and aside from the situation being a general pain in our collective butt, it poses a very real roadblock to our ability to order books and order merch until it is resolved. As has been our stated intention from the inception of this anthology, we're 100% committed to not spending any fan money until we have it in hand and are certain the total can cover all necessary costs—we want to make sure all project expenses are paid directly from our stand-alone project bank account whenever possible, so that they can be easily tracked and reported as promised. Accountability is key. 

All in all, we recognize that this probably isn’t the greatest news to hear, but we want to assure you that we are just as hard at work as we have always been, and we continue to remain hopeful that we will be able to ship these books out well before our new projected shipping date of December 2020 (as soon as we are ready, we’ll ship—we won’t wait around for December if we can get these books to you earlier!). We also apologize as a team for not having had an update for you all sooner--the information we were receiving around the Indiegogo disbursement situation has changed weekly and sometimes daily throughout the summer, and to avoid mass confusion we preferred to provide one in-depth and accurate post rather than multiple conflicting ones. 

This project has been, despite all the difficulties that we have encountered, an invaluable learning experience and a real testament to the spirit of fandom and fannish activities as a whole. We remain confident that you will have these books well before Supernatural ends, and we hope our anthology and the wonderful creations within will do our little corner of fandom proud, because we certainly are after having had the pleasure of viewing and reading such awesome stuff during our editing process!

As always, we are 100% committed to transparency and accountability surrounding all aspects of this project. Should you have any concerns or questions, please do not hesitate to email us or reach out to us via our social media platforms! In the coming weeks, please know that you can expect to hear more often from us; we plan to have updates out at least every two weeks summarizing our further progress, and we are hopeful that very soon, we’ll be able to tell you that our funds have come in and that we’re once again back in full gear!

Thank you so much for sticking with us! We’ve had a lot of ups and downs, but we couldn’t have done it without the tremendous support that you all have shown.

Hoping to send you some amazing books very soon, sincerely and with much love,

Your 8 Vancouver nerds!

If you’re interested in learning the fine details of why we’ve been having trouble getting Indiegogo to deposit the fundraiser money to us, please click, “read more” below!

As you may know, the To Hell + Back: A Destiel Anthology fundraiser officially closed on May 21, 2020. Indiegogo first attempted to disburse the funds to the bank account on our file on June 4, and on June 8 we learned that the disbursement had failed for an unknown reason. We immediately contacted Indiegogo about the return via email, as that is the only avenue they offer for customer support, and did not hear back from a representative until June 16. That person let us know that our issue required investigation from a Payment Specialist and escalated our inquiry to that department; we received our first message from the Payment Specialist on June 24. He let us know that the payment had been sent via the specifically American direct deposit system known as ACH, and let us know that the (Canadian) bank account lined up to receive it was likely not able to receive a special transaction of that type. We also learned through further conversation that Indiegogo uses the company Stripe as an online payment processor, and that they were unfortunately not willing to send the funds to us via another type of transaction such as wire transfer. 

With this in mind, financial admin @justholdingstill​ cracked open the proverbial books and started doing a whole bunch of research on Canadian banks and the kinds of accounts that can successfully receive ACH deposits, learning in the process that cross-border deposits like this are not something widely well-understood by the average bank call center representative. We also learned that Indiegogo had quietly changed the way that they disburse funds in December of 2019, and seemed to be fairly unfamiliar with their new process of making international deposits involving USD. After dozens of calls back and forth with various institutions (during the height of COVID staffing-impacted wait times, no less!), we finally learned that opening a small business bank account with the Royal Bank of Canada would provide us with the ability to receive the funds. To do that, we had to write a Memorandum of Association designating our team as a not-for-profit community group, and formally outline our stated purpose as well the rules and restrictions on our “business” covered by our mission statement. 

Once that was ready, we opened our project account on July 13 under the name Perdition Street Press, updated the information with Indiegogo, and on July 23, the funds were again disbursed to us. Problem solved, right?

Not exactly, as it turns out. Over the next few weeks, the deposit was rejected twice more by our new bank, this time with the feedback that the account information didn’t match, although we had provided Indiegogo with a copy of a void cheque to ensure no mistakes. The issue was escalated to an even higher level of payment specialist, and after some investigations involving both them and RBC, we learned that we would need to have our bank help us fill out a specific form containing highly specific cross-border banking information that we hadn’t previously been made aware of. As of today, August 17, we are now in possession of that form! Since the form asks for a Tax ID or a Social Insurance number, we are currently awaiting an appointment with a local tax advisor who specializes in working with not-for-profit organizations—she will be able to let us know how to proceed properly, without risking an accidental gargantuan tax bill for any of us as individuals. The money you all so wonderfully helped us raise isn’t income or profit for us, after all;it’s for covering the associated costs of producing and mailing books and merch and nothing else. 

After that appointment, which will be paid for up front by @destimushi​ & @justholdingstill​ and then reimbursed from project funds once received, submitting the e-form 1700 to Indiegogo should be the last and final piece of the puzzle, and we are hopeful that we will be FINALLY able to accept the project funds shortly after that—please stay tuned for more, and know that we are as eager to move forward with the production phase of things as you are! 

[jesuscrab]

Saints Row Reboot thoughts, again.

When the annoucment happend, i said that it's way too early to say if i like it or hate it. From a cg trailer and a minute of gameplay it's really hard to have an opinion, y'know?

But now we saw a little bit more of the game, and i wanted to spout my opinions in the void for other fans to enjoy.

Go under the cut if you wanna see. It's a bit of a long one.

First things first: THANK GOD, shooting is still arcade-y and dynamic. I was so scared that they gonna pull a gta and do me dirty.

I feel like i really enjoyed that gameplay footage. Shooting looks fun, driving looks fun, it's very colorful and stylized. It's a bit too cartoony, maybe, but i dont mind it that much. They didint show much of the activities, but they seem okay. Insurance fraud is back, we now have heist - witch i hope will be more interactive and fun then GTAV's heist, becuse they sucked major ass. I hope they will have some new activities, i hope we get to see return of some oldies - as the only genki fan in exsitance, i hope we get to see some sort of spiritual succesor to that. One that preferablly is not kinda racist.

I do like the aspect of building your crimnal empire from scratch. It seems that the player has at least some influance over how the gang progresses, how they take over the city, how the gang grows. I like stuff like that, it seems fun.

I saw a lot of pepole complaining about the health bars... i dont mind it, and also you can turn it off. It's weird that they appear on ALL CARS THAT YOU SEE, but i think it's just an early build bug, i dont think it's supposed to be like that.

Wingsuit tease at the and feels out of place, but i'll take it.

Now, for the concerns:

I am still salty about the lack of purple. Sure, the characters are purple, we have the classic logo, yada yada. But it still feels a bit eh. The game is so colurful already, why not more color?

Speaking about color, the map seems like straight from 2010, becuse it's dark brown and dust. I do love the western setting, it's unique and new, but when they show our characters riding outside of town it looks like some sort of post-apocalipse game. Again, hope it's not a GTAV situation, when half the map is just boring padding with uninteresting and unnecesary wilderness.

I am still scared of the story. SR3 had such a terrible plot that to me, ruined a lot of the experience with the game. They can't really show the plot off in trailers, i get that. The things they said seem... weird? Everyone memes about the whole student loan thing, and i dont mind it honestly, but like... whats the rest? Is it really just "hey we are in debt, lets make a criminal empire and take over the city?" there has to be more stepts then that. I Want to see the plot focus on the whole aspect of growing as an empire, to see our naive protagonist grow more attuned to the gangster lifestyle. Would be so cool! So unique! But yeah, i just want this game to have a good story, becuse that can really break a game imo.

It feels weird that they havent shown off the character creator. They said in an interview that it's gonna be bigger and better then ever, so i want to be excited, but my deep cynism feels like something is off, so im holding out still. I hope the editor allows us to make fat characters that dont look like cartoon blobs. This is litterally only thing i want, lmao. I dount they would re-implement the SR2's system of cloth layers, but it would be cool if they did. Again, probablly won't happen.

I want to see more in deapth exploration of the activites too. I get that they are saving it as a suprise, but i want to see whats new! I cant get exicted for the game when you dont really say anything, volition.

Closing thoughts: while i am still a bit sceptial about the reboot, i have to admit that i am alot more interested now. It does, in fact, looks like a saints row game, and i love those games.

I am not hyped, but i look foroward to future updates with... hope? Is that too pretentious to say?

I dont really care.

Did you read this the whole way trought? If yeah, consider telling me your own opinions, i am very happy to hear them always.

[labyrinthof-fan-fiction]

Fever {2}

Jacob/Bella Twilight Fix-It Fic

Series Masterlist

A/N: Bella acquires some self-awareness. Team let all these characters say fuck. Again, if you don’t like it, don’t read it, this is just me screaming into the void.

Warnings: Depression, Anxiety, Abandonment

Summary: Months passed since Edward left and Bella has finally reentered the real world, maybe Forks will be normal.

Rating: M

Word Count: 2,478

Walking into school when I was aware of my surroundings was jarring after months of floating in existence. I muddled through classes, thankful that as a senior, most of my teachers taught in a lecture format and I could lose myself while they instructed, by now most had given up calling on me for answers. As I was packing my bag from English I heard a voice call my name. I snapped my head up, Mike stood in front of me. “What? Sorry, did you need something?” I asked.

“Are you working tomorrow?” He asked anxiously, every week he had asked this question. I had been answering on autopilot.

“Tomorrow’s Saturday.” I said with a shrug, I always showed up. Maybe in zombie mode, but I was there. And that paycheck was what would be filling my college fund. Or at least giving me a starting point for it.

“It is.” He nodded, seeming satisfied with the answer before he left the room. I finished packing up and wandered into the hallway. My first exchange with someone wasn’t horrible, but I dreaded the next with Jessica. She had been like a fly buzzing in my ear, but something told me that today, I would not be able to just tune her out.

I walked to my seat and glanced over at her. “Hi.” I said awkwardly with a small wave.

Her eyes widened for a moment. “Hello, Bella.” She stated in short accented bursts, but today, she didn’t give me a mindless deluge of her life. She remained silent, she stared at Mr. Varner as he lectured Calculus methods, but her eyes kept flitting over to me curiously. When class had winded down she turned to me. “Do you need help with calc?”

I gave her what I thought was a hopeful expression, “I need so much help.” Then froze, “With calculus, well with other things too, but that’s not your department.”

She chuckled. “I think I can handle calculus. I’m free tomorrow.”

I grimaced. “I work tomorrow.”

She nodded, “Mike had said you were working at Newton’s.” She tapped her pencil on her chin. “We’ll figure it out, we can always stay late sometime to work on calc. The library is open until 4:30.”

I smiled, then the bell rang, the day was over, I had two conversations with classmates who probably thought I was possessed after the past few months, but it was progress. Maybe if I shared it with Dad, he’d feel hopeful. I drove home, the constant weight that had made a home in my chest had lightened. I was surprised to come home and see Dad’s squad car parked out front, he had been working later, I was used to being home alone until he came back from work.

He was sitting in his recliner when I walked through the door, his eyes closed and a quiet snore escaping his lips. I tried to tiptoe in, to let him get a half-decent nap in, but his eyes opened when I closed the door.

“Good day at school?” He asked groggily.

“It was a day, at school.” I shrugged, setting my backpack down and sitting on the couch.

He nodded, “I got ahold of the therapist, Dr. Theresa Gilbert. She said she can see you on Monday after school. We can drive up, we’ll get there by 4 and she said you could start with a session, see how you feel. If you don’t get along she can refer you to another.”

I nodded, one session to start, I could handle that. “Are you sure we can do this?”

Dad quirked an eyebrow. “Your mother and I talked it over, we can swing it, you’re on my insurance plan, it’s not the best, but it will be fine.”

“So I’ll just leave school Monday and drive up to Port Angeles?”

“I’ll drive you.” Dad stated, I started to protest, but he cut me off. “Bells, I want to support you, you can go in yourself, I can sit in the car and wait. I won’t go in unless you want me to.”

“Okay.” I murmured, sensing there was something more to his wanting to go. Not a ‘I’m going to ensure you go’ but more of a ‘I have to be there.’

“You have work tomorrow?” He asked.

“Yeah, Saturdays are my day.” I nodded.

He let out a hum and stood up. “I’ll get dinner started. Let you know when it’s ready.”

I nodded and opened my backpack. I wasn’t worried about English or Social Studies, those two classes I could muddle through. But Calculus was going to be the bane of my existence. I continued working until Dad called me into the kitchen, it was spaghetti, a staple meal for him. Which, the past few months, I didn’t really notice how many times we ate it, but I imagine he did. “Dad, do you want me to start helping cook again?” I asked as I took a helping of pasta and sauce.

“Getting tired of spaghetti?” He teased, but added. “Only if you want to, you don’t have to take over. I can… get adventurous.”

I laughed. “I’ll start doing some meals, get some change in our diet.” I said taking a bite.

He smiled at me and we ate in silence. I washed the dishes before going up to bed, he turned on the TV to watch some game that was important to him. I closed my bedroom door behind me and took a deep breath. The throbbing in my chest was present again, my knees felt weak. It had been a good day, why now? I curled into a ball on my bed and willed myself to sleep. The dull throbbing lulled me to sleep as I counted my heartbeats.

Breakfast the next morning was silent, Dad had left a note on the fridge that he had to go to the station early. Forks barely ever had need of him this early, but after spending a year with vampires, I don’t know how much would surprise me anymore. I put my empty bowl in the sink and walked out to my truck. I let the engine sputter for a moment before it started, rap music started blaring through the stereo and I flinched back. When did I start listening to rap?

Mike was at the counter when I clocked in, “Hey, Bella.” He greeted.

“Hey, Mike.” I returned, putting on my vest and taking a seat next to him. “Busy morning.” I joked, gesturing at the empty store.

He glanced up at me, eyebrows almost in his hairline. “Yeah, busy.” He let out a small laugh. “How are you?”

“I’m here.” I answered, grateful for the bell to sound as a few customers entered. Mike nodded and went to help them. Early on, we learned that I was best at the cash register, and Mike was best with helping customers. Maybe that was just because I had been off this plane of existence for so long. But I was pretty hopeless when it came to the outdoorsy needs.

It must have been at least two hours that he spent going over different items with them before they finally checked out.

“I’m telling you, it wasn’t a grizzly, that thing was bigger than any grizzlies I’ve seen.” The first one, a big burly man with an unkempt beard started, tossing his items on the counter.

“I doubt it, there’s only black bear up here, and they don’t get that big. You’ve probably only seen young grizzlies.” The other, taller and lean with tan skin stated, throwing his items next to the first man’s.

“I’ve seen a full grown grizzly, and whatever was in those woods had at least three feet on a grizzly.” The first retorted, handing me cash when I gave him his total.

“Bullshit, you’re acting like you saw Sasquatch. Probably just your eyes playing tricks on you. You haven’t been the same since you stared into the sun.” The second teased, handing me his cash, a smirk on his face.

“That was years ago, and my eye sight is just fine. There’s a big ass bear in these woods.” Beardy grumbled, stomping out of the store to their truck.

“Don’t mind him, he always gets grumpy when we start trips.” The taller man said, taking his items and following the other out.

I glanced over at Mike who watched them leave then flipped the open sign to closed. He shrugged at me. “What? It’s not like there’s going to be a sudden raid for hiking equipment, especially with those two as our only customers. I can close up.”

“I’ll help, no reason for you to be stuck with the grunt work.” I stood from my stool and grabbed the broom. I started sweeping, I could feel Mike’s eyes on me. “You need something?”

He froze, his hand going behind his neck and he looked a little guilty. “We’ve missed you, Ang, Ben, even Jess, she won’t admit it.”

I felt a blush creep up my neck. “I guess I’ve been a bit of a hermit.”

“Yeah, just a bit.” Mike chuckled. “We’re here if you need us.”

I paused, taking in that statement. I had been so absorbed in myself the past few months, I honestly had forgotten what it was like having friends that weren’t…..them. I know last year I had been consumed by being a part of them that I had forgotten the people who were there for me first when I moved to Forks. “Thanks, Mike.” I continued to sweep, feeling a bit ashamed of the tunnel vision I had been in for the past year. The day I stepped onto the Forks campus I had been obsessed with him. And he didn’t want me, he left me, who was I without him? I finished up and gave Mike a quick goodbye, walking to my car faster than normal. I slammed the door and sped, well, moved as fast as my old girl would, and drove home. I made it halfway there before the tears started to fall. I pulled to the side of the road and threw the truck in park.

I pressed my head against the steering wheel as the sobs continued to tear through my body. I had given an entire year to him, lost myself in the fantasy of being his for eternity. I had been obsessed with immortality, the promise of never aging, never dying. And he didn’t want me, I was just a toy. I had served my purpose of amusement for a fleeting moment of his life, then I was thrown to the wolves. I almost died for him.

I froze when that thought appeared. I almost died…. For him. I put myself into danger for him. My blood was boiling, I had gone to that dance studio and been prepared to sacrifice my life. For what? A year, one fucking year and a few kisses. Kisses that were so controlled and choreographed they might has well have been a peck on the cheek. My radio broke me from my thoughts as a loud, angry song started. I looked over at my passenger seat, the old wrench sat there. Jacob had left it there, “Just in case the hood refuses to go back down, give it a good whack with this and it’ll be good as new.”

Jacob, I hadn’t seen him in a while… I shook my head and grabbed the wrench and slammed it into the radio. I kept going until the sound stopped, the radio that they had installed for my birthday was in pieces. I dropped the wrench onto the truck bench, I stared at the bent and broken plastic. The tears had stopped, the dull pain in my chest was back. I groaned, not sure how I was going to explain the mess I had made to Dad. A twig snapped in the woods to my right. I swore that I saw a flash of movement from the woods as I put the truck into gear. The two hikers had been talking about bears, maybe it was just a bear. Yeah, just a bear.

I tried to quiet my mind as I drove home, I thought today had been a good day, but breaking down in my truck and destroying the radio probably didn’t fit the definition of a good day. I had felt something though, months of floating in a void and I had felt guilty and angry. I pulled into the driveway, Dad still wasn’t home. I checked the messages on the phone, “I’ll be late tonight Bells, there’s leftovers in the fridge. Don’t worry about me. I’ll grab something when I’m home. Love you.”

That was something that had become more common in the past few months, Dad letting me know he loved me. He was always saying, love you, I love you. And I had started calling him Dad, not Charlie. Sure, it seemed like something that would be part of a normal father-daughter relationship. We weren’t normal, or weren’t, and now…. I might have been in another headspace, but somehow we grew closer. I walked up to my room, took a shower and crawled under my covers. “Please, just let me have a normal night.” I mumbled, and closed my eyes.

I was driving through the forest again. It was dark, the trees all looked the same. Every turn, it was the same trees. I glanced at the dashboard, the radio was back in place and the first verse of the song from earlier was blaring on repeat. The trees were a labyrinth, there was no way out. I slammed on the brakes, skidding on the wet pavement. Then I heard a branch snap and turned my head. And he was there, eyes crimson.

“Hello, Bella.” He sneered, I caught my reflection in the window. It was Grandma Marie’s face again. Blood dripped from his fangs. “I told you my world wasn’t for you.” He lunged and I woke up, my heart racing as I tried to catch my breath. I heard Dad shuffling by the door.

“Bella? You okay?” He called, he must have just gotten home, I glanced at my alarm clock, it blinked a one at me.

“Yeah, Dad, sorry, nightmare.” I called back. “Go to bed, I’m alright.”

He grunted, but I heard him shuffle to his room. What was he doing until 1AM? He used to work late when I was younger, I remember a few nights when he was home by ten, but this, something was going on. I laid on my back and closed my eyes. I just hoped that what was keeping him at work late wasn’t of the same nature as that keeping me awake.

[eighthxjune]

aixa writes black people + love #1 marriage: What are we subscribing to?

A couple years ago I caught up with a friend days before his wedding.  We chatted about our families, friends, the nearly ending summer and the marriage he was about to embark on, specifically why he didn’t believe in it.  The construct of marriage wasn’t something he regarded as true - a sentiment he openly shared years prior, even to his then girlfriend.  Though I respect his nonbelief, I didn’t understand how someone who feels that way would propose marriage at all.  “Because that’s what she wants.”  He insisted.  A thirty something year old Black man, who grew up in a two parent household and doesn’t think two people could be monogamous, was about to walk down the aisle and promise ‘til death’ to a woman who holds opposite views about matrimony.  So, what exactly is the basis of this foundation?  Because appeasing her want to get married won’t anchor ‘for better or for worse’.  Especially when her views don’t reflect his.  Whose vows are actually being honored here?  And moreover, why has society placed so much pressure on us to say “I do”?

For years we have all watched marriages grow together, fall apart, make unbelievable sacrifices, fail miserably sometimes disturbingly, and if we’re completely honest with ourselves, very few of them - possibly less than that - pose as a desired goal.  And I’m talking about the relationships we actually know, not the ones curated on social pages.

Don’t get me wrong, I actually would like to get married, well at least I wholeheartedly used to.  In these four chambers right here lives a blissful fantasy, to be swept off my feet, by a knight in shining armor whose self-assurance brings forth mental, emotional and physical stimulation.  But, when it comes to relationships I question whether it’s important to have a marriage or companionship.  Is a legal union even necessary if you have a committed companion?

Until the 16th century there was no Christian sacrament of marriage.  Saturninus, St Bernard, St Paul even Jesus damned marriage altogether.(1) One of them claimed it perpetuated the deviltry of women, being able to dominate men through the magic of sex.  When marriage did gain acceptance by the Christian church, the first rule - invented by men - insured monogamy.  An inferior move because men were considered powerless without a woman.  Prior to, in matriarchal societies, women were free to change lovers or husbands, but men weren’t into the loose and flexible arrangements favored by Goddesses.  There was this intense fear of women, and many men believed they should seize every possible advantage in forcing wives to be faithful.(1)  

So, the Anglo-Saxons created the original vows stating that the bride, not groom, be “bonny and buxom” meaning meek and obedient.  As a rule, women were driven into marriage by social pressures that made spinsterhood less attractive economically.  Patriarchal laws took property out of women’s hands and placed it in the hands of men.  Unmarried women became as helpless to support themselves as wives were.(1)  

Yes, women, we are that powerful, and the assumption that men and women weren’t viewed equally is still a battle today.

My parents have been married a little over 40 years, and they’re a remarkable team when you think of a partnership.  My father, the provider knows how to build and maintain a sturdy house, and my mother, the nurturer can turn any house into a home.  They love, and ride hard for each other, always making family a priority, creating a happy and healthy home.  And if that’s what today’s marriage is all about, they win, ten toes down.  However, I sometimes wonder how much of who they are individually has gotten pushed aside, ignored, neglected in order to care for their family.  They were raised like most old school Black American families: go to school - get a job - get married - buy a home - raise a family, raise them in church if you want them to be favored, and that’s it, that’s life.   Sounds good, right?  A solid and durable foundation to support others.  Yet, the tale I live in looks forward to a whirlwind of romance - one that makes me feel like I’m dancing among the clouds, one that could be the title of an Anita Baker track.  Otherwise, I’m honestly okay courting life joyously alone.  And much rather if my happiness is compromised.

My friend’s nonbelief in marriage isn’t rare.  As a matter of fact, we all recently became more acquainted with the term “entanglement”, when Jada Pinkett Smith described a relationship she had outside her marriage, and how something as such can arise when you’re seeking yourself.  If we actually lived life as our truest selves, in pursuit of our own happily ever after, we would be happier or simply just happy.  

I’m certainly not against marriage, as a formal recognition, but I also don’t think it’s for everyone, and shouldn’t be held as a societal standard.  It’s a very intimate commitment between two people.  Yet, my hope is that if you do decide to find yourself in a relationship, arrive intact, not relying on someone to fill a void, heal your trauma or mask the part of yourself you don’t like.  Be honest about what it is you value and what you can offer in a companionship.  Stay true to your wants and needs,  because your truest self is where your power lies.  

Take care of yourself.

(1) The Woman’s Encyclopedia of Myths and Secrets by Barbara G. Walker

[tsukuna]

Side by Side

Summary: You wandered into Red Grave City to warn the “Legendary Devil Hunter” of a certain… negative shift in the area’s energy. It was an energy you knew to be demonic, and it grew stronger by the day. But on your way to meet with the intermediary, a noisy bird caught your attention. A noisy bird that would bring you to a frail man on the brink of falling apart.

Rated M • Female Reader • Before the Events of DMC V• Under the Cut • Part 2

The news began to speak of the Qliphoth, or the “tree shaped object,” that emerged in Redgrave City. No one, from the average citizen to local police, had a clue that a powerful demon lurked inside. Despite repetitive warnings to take shelter, crowds loved to gather around the base and just stare. Ignorant fools, all of them. 

You observed the horde from a helicopter heading into the den. There was you, V, and Dante of course, but an additional two women accompanied. One had short, ebony hair and an eye of green, an eye of red--not to mention an enormous arsenal. The other was a near carbon copy of the woman you saw on Dante’s desk, and she smelled like a demon. Frankly, it was all perplexing, but you assumed questions would receive no answers. They are beautiful though. You admired their deadly radiance.

While the three demon hunters chatted amongst themselves, you looked to V. His demeanor was entirely muted, and his face showed little expression. There was a decent understanding between you too at this point though, and you could tell there was anxiety building in him. You would have given him a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder; however, you had a feeling the gesture wouldn’t be too well accepted.

“So,” the black haired one drawled. “Who are you?” She eyed you rather intensely.

You introduced yourself. “What about you two?” You looked back just as intense. The names Lady and Trish rang out. “Your names are pretty,” you smiled softly.

“Pretty?” Trish was surprised by the comment.

“Mm,” you affirmed. “I wouldn’t have guessed them. But they match perfectly.”

“Ahhh, so you think we’re pretty, huh?” The girl named Lady tried to tease.

“Extremely,” you said with confidence, not allowing yourself to show embarrassment.

Both of them seem more than satisfied with your answer. “How come you never pay us compliments, huh, Dante?” Lady complained.

“I don’t want to inflate the egos of two crazy ladies anymore than they already are,” Dante replied with a shrug. That seemed to spark an impassioned, yet silly argument. It was an interesting display of friendship for you. I never knew it could seem so… fun.

The light air wasn’t meant to last though. Once the helicopter landed, it was business. “Hey, Dante,” Lady spoke up. “I haven’t even heard the target’s name yet.”

“Uuh… hey poem kid,” Dante seemed peeved.

But in juxtaposition, Griffon began to laugh, “Hee hee hee, that’s our wise guy Dante! What a memory! V, he deserves some praise.” You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at the bird. So extra.

“... some said, it is Urizen.” It was a name you proposed after you met up with Dante before the trip.

“How about Urizen?” Those deep green eyes looked at you with a curious expression. “I read the story in your little book,” you explained.

“Ah yeah, right.” Dante seemed less than enthused. “Urizen, Urizen. You people keep it in mind for me.”

“Not a problem,” you whistled a tune while exiting to wait outside Devil May Cry once again.

“I’m surprised you remembered the name,” V admitted.

“How come? I spent quite some time reading the book while waiting for you.” There was a small pause before you giggled. “I was even pleasantly surprised by how soft your hair was. I thought about doing a little braid.”

“I’m glad it didn’t come to that,” V placed his palm on his face, but it didn’t fully hide the amused smirk on his lips. In spite of what was about to go down that night, you were glad you could provide some bit of comedic relief.

The skepticism on Trish’s face at the name made you a tad nervous, but whatever she was thinking, she didn’t bring it up.

“Looks like the party venue is still open,” Dante announced as you made your way into the Qliphoth.

“Shit, gross.” Your nose crinkled upon moving forward. But why does it seem similar to V’s faint demonic scent?

Lady affirmed, “Oh, it stinks in here.”

“I know. Smells like hot garbage.” Dante fanned himself with an irritated expression. But was it truly irritation, or something else? You couldn’t help but remember his reaction to the true name of the demon. Vergil.

V suddenly crumbled forward, and you caught him just in time before his whole body hit the (disgusting) bottom. His face looked similar to when he was on death’s door. “V?” There was no hiding your concern.

“This is far worse than I thought,” he whispered underneath his breath.

There was no time for questioning before Dante called out. “There’s no crime in turning tail. These things might be a little too much for ya.” He continued to walk while looking at him, hands cooly in his pockets.

“... you’re right.” V gritted his teeth. “I’ll leave the rest to you.” He turned on his heel, leaving both you and Griffon to stare in disbelief. Immediately, the demon flew over to question him in a panic.

Dante’s eyes turned to you. “What about you?”

You did consider your two options. You knew you could fight, and you could tell they needed all possible help. But could V make it without you? It seemed as though his health took a turn for the worst in the blink of an eye. “I’ll go with him, just in case.” Dante nodded before waving goodbye unceremoniously.

It was only a short jog before you caught back up with V. “One must always have an insurance policy,” he told Griffon. Strange. V acknowledged your presence with a nod. It let you know you weren’t unwelcome or a hindrance to whatever he was planning. Had he not given you the clear, however subtle it was, well… you supposed you would’ve turned back to rejoin the other there.

“What do you mean, insurance policy? Wait… Do you mean that brat?!” Griffon quite literally screeched. “Hey, hey… he got his right arm lopped right off,” he tried to reason with V. “He won’t be of any use in battle!” V mumbled some sort of reassurance to him, citing the blood of Sparda. It offered Griffon no comfort. “I said not to fall behind Dante, right? And then you just leave! If they kill him while we are out fetching some greenhorn, we’ll...” the little demon trailed off.

V glanced back. “That… won’t happen. I think.” It appeared this situation was worse than imagined.

“Perhaps I should’ve gone,” you thought aloud.

“I believe you would’ve died,” he paused. “And that would be rather unfortunate.” While V often omitted aspects of the truth, he didn’t seem to lie about what he did choose to reveal.

You, Griffon, and V made your way back to Morrison and the helicopter. His expression was confused. “Well, that was quick. Where’s Dante?”

“Inside. Send the helicopter now.” It wasn’t a question.

“Right now? And send where?” Clearly, the intermediary was puzzled.

“Fortuna,” V stated.

Fortuna--it was a place you heard about in passing. Rumors of mass destruction caused by demons and the existence of cults in the obscure city floated about. Is this where that “brat” resides? The entirety of the Qliphoth was once more in view. It was a disappointment, leaving before you had done a thing about the demon within.

Clearly, V noticed your irritation. “It will be solved in time. It must.” Though he said that to you, it also seemed like he was reassuring yourself.

“I simply wish it will be sooner rather than later.”

You fell back into a lull of science. Until the pilot broke it with annoyed chatter about these “boonies” having no heliport and how he’d have to look for a little landing spot.

“There is no time. We’ll meet below. I’m going ahead,” V prepared to jump from the helicopter, causing the pilot to panic even further. He turned to you and offered his hand. You hesitantly took it. You had a suspicion Griffon would be the way down, but you were skeptical on how well he’d do with carrying the weight of two people.

You clenched your jaw when the air initially hit your face. “God, fuck.” V seemed to laugh under his breath at you before pulling you a bit closer to make Griffon’s job easier.

“While I don’t mind helping out because, y’know, my life counts on it… try not work me too hard,” Griffon bitched. His complaints were met with no words of remorse.

Before your feet hit the ground, V began to discuss his plan. “I’m going through the window.”

“Alright, I’ll wait outside.” The distance to the bottom wasn’t far, so you let go, landing on your feet softly enough. At least I’m stealthy.

Over 15 minutes passed before your ebony-haired companion made his way back down. You looked around for whatever it was he came for. “He’ll be here shortly.” So it IS the brat.

The rattling of metal had you turning around, your eyes catching sight of a boy with blue eyes and silver hair--very similar to Dante. He looked to V, who he already met, then you with skepticism. Regardless, he moved forward to join you. “You’re telling me that’s our ride? Talk about posh.” When you looked at the city streets you assumed that yes, it was posh in comparison to what other residents typically saw. “...Don’t get it too close, the others will wake up.”

V was irked by the comment. “Do I look like I can contact it right now? Try jumping and telling the pilot in person.”

“Yeah, sure,” the other boy rolled his eyes. The conversational-less void quickly turned awkward, unlike the time you typically spent with V. You knew nothing about this boy though, and it’d be a lie if you said you weren’t semi-interested.

While still staring forward, you said your name. The boy turned to you with a questioning look. “Your name?”

He seemed to consider whether or not he even wanted to give it to you at first. “Nero,” he finally said.

Immediately upon landing in the Qliphoth, Nero seemed ready to rush in. But V warned him of the danger that waited. Shortly after, a gurgling sound came out from what you noticed to be Shadow’s “liquid” form. “I’m leaving,” V looked over his shoulder. “I doubt you two would get lost here, but still… I suggest you do not fall behind.” And so he did go ahead, using Shadow as a mode of transportation.

Nero’s face soured a bit, making you release a short laugh. “Not very personable, is he?”

“I can agree to that,” Nero grumbled. It wasn’t long before demons began to spawn, creating little roadblocks in your path. “Get behind me.”

“I appreciate the gesture, but I don’t need protection, y’know?”

“I don’t see any weapons on you,” he eyed you.

You sighed. “Why must one waste energy and space by carrying physical items?” You gave Nero a peace sign before allowing white-gold light to envelop your hand. With a small shake, the glow around your hand turned to light throwing needles. “You take care of half of them, I’ll deal with the rest from a distance for now.”

The demons crawled closer and he grudgingly understood there was no time to ask more at the moment, but oh man, you knew it’d be constant interrogation once there was time. Whatever. A disgusting creature with both the face of a man and an ant’s body caught sight of you. You lazily threw a needle at it, watching it explode once it was pierced between the eyes. They were clearly bottom of the barrel demons. They were quick work for you, and clearly Nero as well who finished shortly after you.

“So you gonna tell me what the hell that was about?” He placed his shoulder across his back as you two continued walking.

“Don’t think that’d be right,” you drawled, “I haven’t even let V know yet, and I’ve been hanging out with him longer.” Nero huffed. “But I will let you know that light exists to extinguish this darkness.”

“How poetic,” he rolled his eyes, which warranted you to bump you first on his head. “Hey! What the hell?”

“Don’t be a douche, Nero,” you stuck your tongue out. “But y’know what? I won’t give too much away from myself, but I have to say, for a kid with one arm, I’m rather impressed by your sword skills.”

“Tch. You should’ve seen me when I had both,” it was funny how quickly Nero could go from brooding to cocky.

A sideways smirk spread across your face. “Would’ve loved to spar with you and kick your ass.”

You both continued to banter and deal with anything in the way. It was actually fun, and, surprisingly, the pair of you laughed together. It took no time for you to see V in the distance once again.

Nero stepped forward. “Huh? What, did you come back?”

The comment undeniably miffed V. “I told you, had I not? Your presence is needed.” You still didn’t quite understand why he needed Nero. He was strong, yes, but he still only had one arm. And if the reaction V and Griffon had earlier meant anything, this demon was far out of Nero’s league.”

Speaking of the devil (or rather the demon), Griffon piped up. “Hey, hero, you do know your role, right?” Nero quirked a brow at the bird. “What I’m saying is get going. We’ll take care of the grunts.”

“Whatever,” he turned around. But then he called out your name, which had a surprisingly colloquial tone to it. “You coming with?” Dante asked the same thing, and you would give the same answer.

“This seems to be your fight,” you shook your head. “I’ll stay back and help here.”

“Gotcha,” Nero nodded and began to move forward.

Griffon cackled, “Fast friends, huh?”

“He’s a funny kid. But how about we focus on the issue before us, hm?” The demons, which Nero had let you know were called empusas, bubbled up.

“Work, work, work!” Despite the complaint, Griffon charged then released cracks of lightning onto the demons. “Fuck yeah!” Huh, I guess I never saw what he did. The bird then chided V for not helping.

“Don’t rush me,” he voiced as he pierced one of the empusas. “Garbage.”

“He, he, that’s the spirit. We gotta catch up to the kid! Even she is helping out!” Griffon was ranged, you noticed, so you took a more melee stance this time (as opposed to your strategy alongside Nero). Instead of conjuring the needles, you created an elegant scythe of light. While the hacking and slashing was entertaining, being splattered by rancid demon blood was a major downside.

“Ugh, disgusting,” you at least wiped it off your face. V looked at you, startled and speechless. “No time for a Q and A, we’re needed ahead.” You grabbed his (warm) hand and began to run forward. “I can tell they’re right up there!”

The first thing you saw was Nero already bloody and beaten. “Fuck, Nero!” You rushed towards him and continued to scan the scene ahead of you. Dante. Lady. Trish. All of them lying on the ground in defeat. The demon, the monster, who defeated the famed devil hunters sat at the far end, appearing bored on his “throne.”

“He lost?! How did this happen?!” Griffon’s panicked screeches rang in your ears. “Oh no… oh no… This is it. This is the end.”

V softly murmured “Dante…” It was as if that conjured him back from the grave.

“Round two!” He transformed into a devil right before your eyes. Who the hell are all these people I got involved with?

“Heeey, what do we do?! We could lose an arm too V!” Griffon flew around anxiously. “Earth to princess V! Get yourself together!” You joined his chorus of yells, however… the words did not reach his ears. Tears rolled down V’s face and you realized just how dire this situation was for him.

“V!” You and Griffon shouted, but he continued to stare ahead. “V!” This time you took him by the shoulder and began to turn him around. “We need to go!” His eyes finally came back into focus and he nodded.

“Get Nero out of here! This was a bad move,” Dante yelled out.

“I can still fight,” Nero screamed in response but you were already beginning to pick him up and drag him away. “Tch, shit, back off!”

“You’re just deadweight!” By expression alone, you could tell that Dante’s words reverberated through his whole being.

Even as the ground collapsed, Nero shouted, “Quit messin’, back off!”

“We have to leave here!” You and V both tried to shake sense into the boy. “He’s far stronger than we could’ve imagined…!”

“That bastard called me “dead weight”?! Don’t underestimate me!” Nero screamed out Dante’s name.

Your eyes widened with shock as V threw Nero against a wall. “If you’re frustrated then think of ways to get stronger!” You had never heard his voice ring so loudly. “If Dante loses… I need you to defeat Urizen.” Nero’s face was full of scorn, but he seemed to finally give up fighting you and V off.

“Yes Urizen, the demon king…” He’s the demon king? Fuck. “That’s the name of the demon who took your arm,” V explained to Nero. It was news to you that it was Urizen who stole Nero’s arm. First question you had was why? What was so special about his arm that the demon king needed it to ascend? Perhaps I can barter information with him another day. I’m sure we shall meet again.

A crisp snap cut the air, and suddenly the black from V’s hair dissipated, leaving only white behind. An enormous creature crashed down and busted the rocks. Its appearance seemed to be made of rock (though that would be too simple) and it had a single eye. Another of V’s familiars, huh? But unlike Shadow and Griffon, especially, it didn’t seem to have any conscience. “This is Nightmare,” V  whispered to you. Good to know he thought that you may want that information.

The descent was over and once the familiar gurgled away, V’s hair became black once more.

“Where’s Dante? Hey!” Morrison exclaimed, voice full of confusion.

“He’s buying us time.. But it won’t last long,” V answered smoothly, not showing his despair to the other man.

Morrison was stunned. “Dante lost?!”

[thesaltyace]

big rant/ramble below, you can safely ignore and move on to the next post in your feed.

Urgh

I shared the results of that autism screener with a quasi-friend who I thought would be "safe" (we used to work together and we connected over his being gay and me being visibly queer) but his response was blergh

Everyone has hints of autism.

okay yeah but this isn't just *hints* of autism. I'm answered yes to symptoms I've had since I was a kid that I've learned to mask or work around as an adult. But I still struggle with them.

He pointed out that he sees me as more ADHD than ASD.

Yeah, fair, and I'd need to see a professional to try to distinguish if my symptoms are ADHD, ASD, or both.

You don't hit the three prongs needed for a diagnosis.

But.... but I do. And the stuff I dealt with as a kid is still stuff I deal with today. I just mask it better. A short and not exhaustive list:

As I kid I had trouble interacting with peers. I didn't have friends, really. I didn't know how to make friends and I didn't try terribly hard to. I acquire friends when someone else "adopts" me and decides that we are friends. And once I became an adult, I have almost never had friends of my own - I share a friend group with my spouse who we're primary connected to through him. I'm okay with that. Maintaining a friendship entirely on my own power sounds impossible and exhausting.

I was okay with not having friends, I liked being alone, but my mom insisted on me being social. She made me join things so that I would have a list of people to invite to parties. I'd honestly have preferred a day of doing stuff I like or just a couple friends. As an adult, I want to be alone on my birthday. I will celebrate with certain friends, separately, usually over a quiet meal. That's it.

I had trouble understanding sarcasm and figurative speech. Like, I understand it now but I still think most figurative speech is annoying. I've been told the way I deliver sarcasm is weird, too.

I liked memorizing movies and quoting them start to finish, I thought it was fun but everyone else thought it was weird. I continued to do this into adulthood but I only quote aloud when I'm alone. Alamo Drafthouse quote-alongs are the BEST. I don't do this with every movie, either, just ones I really like.

Okay actually I also liked to listen to the same album or, in some cases, the same song over and over until I was sick of it (and sometimes even after that point). I mean, just endlessly looping on repeat. Not interspersed with other songs. I do this as an adult a LOT because it's easier with headphones to do this without annoying everyone else around you. Like, often it's fine for me to just put a playlist on shuffle, but I get into Moods where I just want the one album/song over and over. Yesterday I listened to Wellerman about 50 times in a row and only stopped because I had to get up and do something else and that song wasn't "good" for whatever I got up to do.

My special interest as a kid was cats. Literally everything cats, all the time - I sought out obscure facts and could tell you the difference between similar species, and wanted cats involved in literally everything I did. Adults laughed it off as childhood obsession. I was also pretty obsessed with the solar system. I thought asking my peers, as a trivia question, which of Jupiter's moons had its own asteroid (Io, in case you were wondering) was appropriate and interesting and was confused that they didn't know that. That was in fifth grade.

I watched the weather channel for fun. I would watch it for hours and absorb the weekly forecast info just... for fun? I never used it, could never tell you if you should dress a certain way or bring an umbrella or whatever. Everyone thought it was weird.

I was a know-it-all and literally could not stop myself from bluntly correcting people who were wrong. Didn't know or care that it was "rude". I'm still that way but I've learned how to sometimes swallow the urge long enough to find a more tactful way to point it out (but often fail).

I could read on my own before kindergarten, used vocabulary beyond what one would expect for my age, and had a special interest in spelling and grammar throughout my school years. I did not understand how other people weren't interested in learning about it and getting it right. I read at an undergrad level by 4th grade.

I hated loud noises and often covered my ears to block out irritating sounds. I could also hear high pitched noises that even other kids didn't seem to hear (or at least weren't bothered by them). Too much noise sent me into an internal meltdown, I'd just kinda shut down because I couldn't deal with it.

Textures and pressure on my skin bothered the absolute fuck out of me - sock seams, certain fabric materials, socks that weren't equally elastic, one shoe tighter than the other, tags.... all of that. (Also, fun anecdote I just unlocked - when I was 4 or 5 my grandmother started letting me use the soft silk sleep shirt she had as a young woman because I preferred it to anything else. Soft, smooth, no irritating qualities. Bliss. I wanted to wear it all the time.)

Don't get me started on food. Until I was in COLLEGE I mostly subsisted on pasta with either butter or alfredo sauce and chicken. I would eat other things, but pasta and/or chicken was (and still is) my biggest safe/comfort food. I'd eat other stuff mostly if I could control the balance of ingredients, get it made plain, or could confirm the texture wouldn't be offensive (so, like... plain burgers, plain cheese pizza, grilled cheese, mashed potatoes, etc.) I cannot stress this enough - from childhood through COLLEGE I did this. As a kid my mom had to make me a completely separate dish most nights to get me to eat something. My spouse was horrified at what little variety I ate. The only reason I eat so much variety now is that he knows what I do/don't like and tells me in advance if I'll find a texture or taste offensive. Of course, rather than wanting consistent texture like I did when I was younger, I now seek as much texture as possible (so long as they aren't Bad textures) so.... that's fun. But yeah most of my objections to Yucky foods is due to T E X T U R E. Even if I like the taste, the texture overrides it all.

I prefer animals to people. I will seek out animals and interact with them instead of people in the same room. And will pointedly focus on the animal to avoid interacting with people.

I'm perfectly happy with only myself for company. Being with just my spouse counts as me being "alone" though. Always has. I just realized last night that it's because I do minimal to no masking around him because he's a safe person to unmask with and always has been. Never batted an eye at the weird shit I do beyond asking questions about what I was doing or why. And then just "Okay."

Okay honestly just the fact that I want to vent into the void of tumblr instead of actually discussing this with a person - even my spouse! - pretty effectively shows how little it occurs to me to interact with other people directly. o_0

And there are so many more things that I won't list here because I could just go on and on. And like, sure, some of this may certainly overlap with ADHD but my point is that I have enough to point to ASD that it doesn't feel like having a "hint" of autism. And who knows - maybe it is mostly just ADHD and CPTSD stuff interacting in weird ways. Could be!

But just because I can make small talk and make eye contact and do the "normal" shit and I can interact "normally" doesn't mean I LIKE it. I had to LEARN to do those things to avoid having bad social interactions. When I'm by myself or with my spouse, I behave very differently than I do around anyone else. ANYONE. It's not just slightly changing my behavior depending on who I'm with - it's completely suppressing how I naturally would do things if left to my own devices.

Like, the things we recommended to our autistic students who wanted to know how to interact in ways that would help them blend in/be accepted by others ARE THE EXACT THINGS I ALREADY DO. Like, it did not occur to me at the time that neurotypicals literally do not have to think about doing those things. I thought, ah, these students just need to be told what the tricks are. Other people figure these tricks out on their own. It did not occur to me that other people, in fact, do not learn these tricks because they naturally do that behavior. They do not have to actively think about learning the trick, period. I literally thought other people also have to think as hard as I do about interactions. Evidently not.

So yeah, I'm feeling a little upset about the reaction I got from him because I'm like.... honestly, a diagnosis of ASD wouldn't change a lot about how I do things or think of things. But it would make me feel better about interacting with and participating in autism-related stuff if I am actually autistic. I realize I can use the resources and supports meant for ASD regardless, and for formal supports anything I can access due to my ADHD diagnosis likely covers anything I'd need for ASD. But having a diagnosis opens up more community. Right now I'm like yeah I'm ADHD but I totally relate to this ASD content. But I'm not going to interact much because I feel like I don't have the right to join in since idk if I do have ASD.

idk I have a lot of feelings. I had a bad email about the trans insurance coverage thing yesterday and I'm not in a great headspace, but finding out me and my spouse both scored very high on the autism screening stuff was honestly a high point because we ended up sharing a lot of how we view and interact with the world that was very eye-opening about why we interact the way we do, how we relate to others (and how other people think we're weird for how we relate to others), and just...everything. And having someone be skeptical after I've spent a lot of time trying to convince myself that I DON'T have ASD only to conclude that at the very least, I should probably be evaluated because I can't reasonably rule it out. Like, most people do not wonder if they have autism. The fact that I am spending this much time looking into it and trying to find examples to disprove it only to find I overwhelmingly can't in virtually every single diagnostic category.... just..... dismissing it outright is kinda hurtful.

Like, I recognize that ADHD symptoms overlap a fair bit, but seriously. My spouse (who definitively does not have ADHD) scored almost identically to me and we vibed on almost everything when we compared answers. We see most things similarly. We have similar areas of confusion about other people and for fundamentally similar reasons. I can't imagine all of the stuff that points to ASD for me is just ADHD in disguise, not when I vibe THAT HARD with someone else. Spouse does not vibe with me on ADHD content. At all. He can appreciate it since he does live with me, after all, and observes whatever's being discussed. But he doesn't vibe with it. He vibes with autism content, though. And I vibe with both.

idk this rant ended in rambling and I'm just going to go listen to Inside on repeat for a couple hours while I try to calm down a bit. o_0

[lachlann-macnab]

Task #16 Jukebox Musical/TV or Movie Soundtrack: come up with a playlist of at least 10 songs, write a scene summary to go with each one. Disclaimer under the cut.

Disclaimer: I, once again, decided to abuse the system. Nowhere on the prompt does it say that the scenes have to be related to a character I have, that's why I present to you: "The prompt, but short stories done with characters Jean would love to write but doesn't have the time to actually have".

Also, weeb rights.

*King  (English cover) -Will Stetson John Kingsbury 

Watch your back no warning warning Taking all my stress there's only just one thing to do Brace yourself for all my love's attack now Left side right side Bear your fangs it's time to fight Pa - pa - pa parade in shame tonight Left side. Right side. Bear your fangs and come alive Pa- pa - pa, Hah! You are king!

Mother always did like Richard best. 

Screw that, everyone always did like Richard best, even John liked his brother more than he liked himself. Even so, when he had been declared MIA during a mission with The Order, John quickly became the first option (the only option) for everyone -he was on cloud nine.

His new comrades didn't quite like him, but John didn't quite mind since he'd make sure that by the end of that year they'd be kneeling to him. Just  like he'd make sure that Richard never, ever came back, even if that meant making allies with a certain policeman and some Magicks whose information he'd make sure to erase from The Order's databases.

Pa, pa- pa Hah! He was (finally) King!

*La mer - Julio Iglesias cover  Basil Rathbone 

Mrs. Judson would have never expected to hear Julio Iglesias, of all things, coming from the flat. It was a strangely cheerful song for someone like Basil to hear, being the snob (not only musical, but general snob) he'd always been.

She was unsure about whether she really wanted to open the door, suddenly afraid of what she might find on the other side. Sometimes Basil would be immersed reading files upon files upon files, sometimes he would be languishing on the sofa while staring blankly at the roof, sometimes he would be walking around while talking to himself in a very obvious bout of mania -he was a wild card, that Basil, and the fact that she simply couldn't guess what he'd do next always worried her.

Worried as she was, she opened the door.

She found Basil staring at the portrait that hung just above the chimney, just...watching it. 

"I have always quite admired Le Carré's works" Basil merely said, without even looking at Mrs. Judson and instead keeping his attention on his own personal Karla while the song went on and on, silently hurting in all of the right places.

*Everybody loves me - OneRepublic  Kuzco Apaza

Get down, Swaying to my own sound Flashes in my face now All I know is everybody loves me Everybody loves me

Kuzco was on a roll. 

He felt the stares as he made the street his personal catwalk and kept (very loudly) chatting with his lawyers on the other side of the phone. The sun was shining surprisingly strongly that day (surprisingly for that side of the world, that is), it's rays hit his jewelry and clothes and made him shine almost as strongly as the star itself.

There was no way anyone could ignore him. And he couldn't blame them -he was fabulous! A gift of the gods themselves, almost as brilliant as the sun and twice (no, thrice) as charming!

...and he was shouting his plans to build a waterpark on Atlantis Lake. And, sure, people didn't seem to love the idea quite yet, but...?

At least they were staring. And they'd eventually learn to love him.

*Dramaturgy (English cover) - Will Stetson Hans Westergård 

All alone now no one’s looking, act out in greed deceiving all their eyes But there’s no real me that You’ll find if you believe and I can’t find a single role that showed what’s really there to see

He caught the eyes of his reflection by accident.

Hans had tilted his head and his eyes had almost immediately found his own reflection against the showcases, making him forget about his date (what was her name again? He couldn't, for the life of him, remember that but he certainly did remember how much her net-worth was and which medicines she needed to take at what hours of the day, just like her previous beau had needed to do before the "accident" had happened) and focus instead on his own eyes.

The thing is...he couldn't find anything in there; The baby blue went on and on but there was nothing beyond- behind it-

-when he moved his gaze, however, he found that he was smiling even if he didn't felt like it. And that his carefully selected clothes looked as they had been designed just for him to wear (and they had), and that his globed hands were still holding his date's recent purchases inside the yellow bag even if he found every item utterly tacky and a ridiculous expense.

He was smiling and looking good and doing perfectly. So why did finding his own gaze him the same effect as placing a mirror in front of another, creating a ever going loop of emptiness?

Was he not playing his part correctly? What could possibly fill that void?

*My Neighbor Totoro/Azumi Inoue Music Box ver - R3 Music Box Totoro Seishin 

Totoro decided to take a nap under the sun while Chu and Chibi were busy playing with some squirrels. It was a sunny day and there was no place he'd rather be but outside, basking and feeling the grass under him.

At one point, however, he felt some extra weight on him. He didn't feel like moving or particularly offended by something deciding to lay on him, it was just amusing.

He couldn't be bothered to open both eyes, so he only opened one, finding a sleeping girl against his chest as if that was the most normal thing to do.

He smiled, closed his eye and decided that was quite fine by him.

*Delusion Girl - Oktavia Cover (TW Suicide and Mental Illness) Bernard Newhart

Every hero knows when they’re needed, so, that’s just what he’s born to be A man who manages throwing out his hand, Who doesn’t care if his own life is spared Such a feat like that, it’s a selfless act only completed in dreams And it stays like that for me With a crash I’m trapped back in reality

Bernard wanted to help, he really did. He just...didn't always know how. Nor did he know if it really matter.

His partner always seemed to be five steps ahead and the Australian she'd taken a fancy to was just like her, if not a couple of steps ahead of even her. And it made Bernard feel like a third wheel, to question if he was really doing something worthy, if he had done something, anything sufficiently good ever and-

-he caught the girl's cellphone before she ever noticed it had slid out of her hands. And soon enough he was getting hugged and receiving many 'thank you's and- and maybe that was enough?

*The Lost One's Weeping (English Cover) - Will Stetson (TW   Depression) Martin Ambrosius (Merlin)

And no matter how much time passes us by, We’re drunk on sweet and hypnotic lies. With all our sources of hardened pride We try to erase and hide now

Martin would always act indignant at the question, and would always reply with a 'I am under no obligation to use my magic to explain or prove anything to the likes of you'.

He was Merlin's blood, for fuck's sake! He didn't have anyone to prove anything to save for maybe the Once and Future King himself!

Oh how he hoped, deep, deep inside, that he would never wake, that he would never ask any questions, that he would never do anything but keep dreaming his mythical dream and let him live his unmagic life.

He was a showman, he loved smoke and light and mirrors, he could fool anyone, anytime -but he knew that wouldn't be enough if (when) the time came, that the Once and Future King would need an actual advisor, an actual wizard.

He prayed that day never came to pass.

*When you're evil - Aurelio Voltaire Dr. Heinz Doofenshmirtz

It gets so lonely being evil What I'd do to see a smile Even for a little while And no one loves you when you're evil I'm lying through my teeth! Your tears are all the company I need

"Ah, Perry the Platypus! Don't shake too much or you'll make the laser sharks angry and- no, hey! the insurance doesn't cover laser damage to the roo- yeah, that's better thank you. You might be wondering what this is all about- you see, noone has decided to play ME so far so- BEHOLD, THE HEINZ DOOFEN-INATOR! (patent pending) WITH THIS DEVICE I SHALL HIJACK ONE UNLUCKY ROLEPLAYER'S DRAFTS AND SLOWLY BUT SURELY CONSUME THE WHOLE THING THEN THE OTHER POSTS ON THE DASH, THEN THE WHOLE BEING DISNEY PAGE, THEN- HEY! HEY, DON'T DO THA- I'M NOT DONE WITH MY EVIL MONOLOGUE!"

*DEAD HAND - anakin ft. IA English (Ferry Cover)  (TW  Nuclear Warfare mention) Major Francis Monogram

Oh this is overwhelming, time for the iron curtain call The panic is seeping through the fractured border wall My livid heart powers this reactor core “Oh this is all wrong” but I don’t mind at all Turn up the volume, execute the protocol You know it’s M.A.D. and it’s all about to blow What an unfortunate way to end this show I shed a tear as you vanish in the snow

Francis had zero interest in dealing with anyone's shit (save for his own or his son's, that is) ever again; He'd done his time and the whole thing during the fucking Cold War had done a number on his nerves.

He still could remember how all seemed lost, an adequately mad situation (of Mutually Assured Destruction, that is) had come to pass and everyone in the HQ was losing his mind and running around like a bunch of headless chickens-

-until he very calmly pressed a couple of buttons and the thing was ok once more. Some people cried, some people laughed, some people shouted.

(Dramatic bitches, all of them. They didn't have to cause a scene just because of the fucking coffee machine)

That was one of many situations that made him love his retirement and not want to let go of it.

*Gasoline - Halsey (Captain) John Silver

You're part of a machine, you are not a human being With your face all made up, living on a screen Low on self esteem, so you run on gasoline

'Phantom limb pain' sounded way cooler than it actually was. Silver would rather call it 'a pain in the ass' any day, but that'd be a misnomer since what hurt was his stupid (lack of) arm and not his ass and he was not risking some smartass trying to make a joke about his butt, thank you very fucking much.

Like, fuck, 'phantom pain' could be a sick name for a metal (heh) band. And hiding things inside his prosthetic was one of the few perks the whole thing offered, just like the fact that he could smack people with the thing without having to bother about hurting himself or dealing with that pain.

However, during that cold night he couldn't think of any possitives about the damned thing and cursed his rotten luck, his (lack of) arm and the thoughts that came along with them.

[altphilcmena]

𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐊 𝟎𝟎𝟑 ;; a collection of writings.

implications of trauma, death, murder, gun violence, mental illness / rehabilitation, general violence. 

𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 𝒊 𝒔𝒂𝒘 𝒕𝒐𝒅𝒂𝒚 ;; dated october 23rd, 2013. written in a moleskin journal.

the birds chirping

a broken wind chime

daisies in the windowsill

lysander and his boyfriend

elektra and her guitar

juno, alone

the setting sun

𝒔𝒆𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒔𝒐𝒐𝒏 ;; dated september 29th, 2015. written on yellow notepad paper, lost behind the vanity.

     mother, father, lysander, juno, orion, valora, and whoever else it may concern -

this is not goodbye, and it is not forever. explicitly, i am leaving home for an undetermined amount of time. i have respectfully decided to follow elektra in her pursuits - they are of passion, and of yearning, and i have felt this way for quite some time now. this is not a life of fulfillment, at least not one for me. i wish to experience more. i want to know more. i want to feel cultured beyond the texts of ancient greek and latin. i want to feel what elektra feels, and if she goes, i will be void of it. i have to go, but it is not forever. this is not goodbye. to lysander, i send my best regards. he will say yes. juno, i’m sorry. i am forever sorry. orion, valora - i will think of you both, everyday, and the people you become. mother, father - our intelligence is not yet aligned, but one day it will be. you will be proud, as you always are. you are admirable, and so will i. water the garden, take care of the stable, stay out of the woods.

                                                       evermore,                                                                            𝒑𝒉𝒊𝒍𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒂

𝒇𝒍𝒐𝒓𝒊𝒅𝒂 ;; dated may 6th, 2019. written on a napkin, and burnt with a lighter.

i have potentially done something terrible, today. we’re leaving in the morning, and i doubt we’ll ever return. some laws are stupid. i did not hurt anyone. i will never hurt anyone. i simply gave a warning shot.

𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒍𝒍 ;; dated may 30th, 2019. written on stationery, adorned with mushrooms. sent to the carmichael residence at woodside, california.

florence broke down in connecticut today. the sign says lovell. the streets are busy, in that small town way. it’s a small town - mostly college students. we are fine, please do not send money. it is always burned. i believe i may enroll at the university here, radcliffe. there is a floral shop that always smells sweet, and the boy behind the register always smiles at me. there are rumors of ghosts and misfortune that haunt radcliffe - but do not fret, i will not open unearthed boxes. i have learnt my lesson. i’m careful, now. more careful than i had been before. i’m smarter, too. i suppose i have you to thank for that. so, thank you. i am running out of space to write. with best wishes, philo

𝒕𝒐𝒅𝒂𝒚'𝒔 𝒉𝒊𝒌𝒆 ;; dated july 12th, 2010. written on construction paper, later torn and folded to make paper stars for a fancy paper stars jar.

i don’t like the police, they ask very many questions. they came to our house and asked us about our hike today. juno’s and i’s, to be very specific. it was only the two of us. but we are very smart. they asked what we saw. i saw many birds. blackbirds and bluebirds and a cardinal, too - those are red. sparrows and wrens. finches. i saw poison oak, but because i am very smart i did not touch the poison oak. i saw wildflowers. i saw a red scarf, and it was very odd. we went down a different path than usual, but there are no scarves in the woods besides on this path. it was a very dirty scarf, but my eyes are very good and i can see color very well. juno didn’t like the scarf, though. she hated the scarf. she liked it at first, but then she hated it after she touched it. the fabric must not be very nice. i don’t blame the scarf, however, for how it was made. it is just a scarf. but she screamed and screamed and screamed and the park ranger was called. he’s very nice, the park ranger. he called mom and dad. juno couldn’t, but i don’t know why. we’re home now, and the cops are gone, but juno has been very quiet. i hope she is okay. it was just a scarf. i hope we go on another hike soon. i miss the trees. they have things to tell me.

𝒈𝒓𝒐𝒄𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔 ;; dated november 5th, 2019. written in a tiny notebook with crayon.

brown sugar

almond milk

cat litter

bleach

bedazzling kit

eggs, brown

oranges

strawberries

blackberries

earl grey tea

hair ties

get well soon card

bandaids

𝒕𝒐 𝒅𝒐 𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 ;; dated april 17th, 2018. written on the window in dry erase.

dive for scraps at junkyard

weld

fast food breakfast

hang upside down to test blood flow

fish

fast food lunch

library

class :o(

meet elektra at bridge

diner dinner

moonlit walk across town

stargaze

𝒅𝒓𝒂𝒇𝒕𝒔 ;; dated april 28th, 2020. written in a notebook, later discarded.

leopold is a good person. leopold kristoff fowler is a good person. leopold fowler is a good person. leo fowler is a good person. i can testify this, because he is kind to me because i see him everyday, and he does not have a history of unwarranted violence. i believe that what you saw on that day was a fluke, a lapse in judgement power thought (come back to this) leo fowler is of noble character. i know this for fact. it is not disputable. i would trust my life in his hands. i do trust my life in his hands. trust holds more value above all else. my life has been in his hands before, matter of fact. i believe leo fowler saved my life, in fact (repetitive), after a very terrible accident in which i fell from several heights. it was one of the scariest things i have ever experienced. he was there as it happened, and took immediate action to insure i was properly taken care of. i fear that if it hadn’t been for him, i would be under very different circumstances. (handwriting becomes illegible, as if the rest had been scribbled away)

𝒕𝒐 𝒋𝒖𝒏𝒐 ;; dated feburary 1st, 2017. written on floral stationary and sent in an envelope (lost in the mail and never delivered).

     to juno, my dearly estranged sister,

it’s been some years now since we’ve last spoke, and i hope you are well. truly well. elektra and i are fine, as we always are. we are surviving, and i hope you are too. you’re one of the bravest people i know, maybe even more so than elektra (do not tell her that i said this, please) and i know i have hurt you in more ways than can be said, or imagined. i will not excuse my selfishness, but i urge you to see from my perspective. i am not dumb, nor have i ever. i have ears and eyes and very keen senses. i knew you were being sent away, and so did elektra. come to think of it, you are the only one who was left unaware. i can’t tell you if it was selfish, or if it was in their best interest for you. i’m afraid i’m biased, and i still cannot yet see from your perspective. clearly, at least. i wish i can, someday, and i wish to hear from you soon. i’m sorry that we left as we did. i’m sorry i didn’t tell you my plans. i’m sorry for abandoning you. i know we both don’t care for empty homes, that’s why i left when i did. i thought you’d be gone, longer, too. sometimes i have very poor judgment and i’m not ashamed to admit it. i am, however, ashamed to admit that i have misjudged you. you’re far more complex than i knew of, and i can only blame the ignorance of youth. it’s only been two years, but i’m far wiser now. please believe me. i wouldn’t leave you now, if i were the age i am now than i was then. one day when the cycle repeats, i hope i remember to do better by you. congratulations on your acceptance to columbia.

                                                      evermore,                                                                          𝒑𝒉𝒊𝒍𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒂

𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 𝒊 𝒔𝒂𝒘 𝒕𝒐𝒅𝒂𝒚 ;; dated may 12th, 2020. written in a moleskin journal.

the rising sun

pail sleeping on a pile of blankets

rosemary and basil and mint and thyme

my reflection

elektra, and her guitar

leo :o)

a murder of crows

my favorite tree

songbirds

the stars, far earlier than night

[danahmbisyosangdoktora]

I was a COVID19 Warrior

Dear future self,,,

That’s probably one of the Tumblr mainstream from years ago that I lowkey regret not doing.

Five years from now, I hope you finally achieve what you’re dreaming of.

I remember reading posts from other people with such hopeful words from their then present selves for their future selves.

Do you enjoy what you have now? Imagine, you were just dreaming of it years ago and now you’re here.

I probably might have written something that goes along those lines.

Must have been nice to read a letter from your younger self. I wonder what would I have written if I jumped into the mainstream? With my obnoxious big words to assert my then “lexical prowess”, I’m hundred percent sure I’m having a cringe fest right now.

On the contrary, it feels scary to be hit with the reality of how much your hopes for the future differ from the future. But I also wonder how it must have been to be able to differentiate your past, present and future point-of-views.

I never thought I’d regret something so trivial.

And because of that, I’m here writing for my future self.

DEAR FUTURE SELF,

I’m not sure what year you’ll be reading this but I hope that five years from now, you are different from what you are at present. I hope you’re finally able to find your purpose in life. I hope you’re able to get past all your inhibitions from doing better.

I hope five years is enough for you to find out what you truly wanted in life. And I hope life and time allowed you to do it.

Most importantly, I hope you finally realize that your existence matters. You were born with a purpose. You are not just a speck of dust.

To be honest, I’m not really sure what I meant by writing this letter. Was it because I wanted to validate your existence or I just wanted to rant about all the shit that’s happening around me and make this letter a proof that I was able to get through all of these if I get the chance to read this years from now? Probably the latter.

Nonetheless, everything we do and everything we own will eventually become artifacts in the future. This could also be one of the things the future could retrieve. I'm writing without a specific point. I'm sure this would sound like a diary entry. A Diary of A Young Healthcare Worker, am I getting copyrighted for that title?

///

You see, if I’ve written something like this five years ago when I was still a hopeful undergraduate dreaming of becoming a medical technologist... I would never imagine my current situation. Being in a pandemic as a fresh and young professional; idk, it feels unfair to me.

Did I really burn the midnight oil to become a sacrificial lamb?

Did I have to go through countless breakdown alone just to helplessly beat an invisible bug without any armor?

Did my parents really spent hundreds of thousands for my education just to become a slave of the health sector?

Was being called a modern day hero after dying because of a poor healthcare system worth it?

Was my life being at stake on a daily worth the struggle?

It took me long to finally own up being a “frontliner”. During the early part of the pandemic, I was never truly able to accept the title. It felt like an insult to those who are really in the front line if I call myself that. I used to joke I was just a “loob-liner” because I was just inside the Blood Bank. Not really a part of a Swab Team nor any COVID19 Response Team unlike some of my batchmates. I was scared. I never had the guts to volunteer. I’m not a frontliner.

I always felt the need to ask validation from my friends. I always ask if it’s okay that I don’t feel like fighting for the country. I always ask if they still accept me even if I turn against my oath.

You see, I feel like working in a government hospital in the province isn’t an ideal start for a budding professional. I was exposed to the crooked healthcare system of the country at an early time. My ideals became just ideals. Everything I expected turned into just expectations. Everything I learned in the four corners of the classroom turned into just theories. Maybe my workmates were right, I should’ve went to work in diagnostic clinics first before working in a hospital.

I was exploited as a starting professional. My four years in Medical Technology school didn’t prepare me for this.

Putting my cowardice aside, I feel like my current situation is the reason why I’m so afraid of fighting for the country. My hopeful undergrad self would have rolled her eyes on me if she’d see me right now. But then again, fighting for the country when the country doesn’t care for you is easier said than done.

I’m currently a job order employee. No hazard pay until the pandemic. No night differential even though we are full on 16 to 24 hours duties. My employer doesn’t pay for my PhilHealth nor SSS. We even have to beg for our employer to give us personal protective equipments. Our salary doesn’t have a fixed date of release. We should be thankful should it be released a week after the month of service. It’s normally delayed as long as three months before the pandemic happened.

I was never bothered by the virus because "I only work in the blood bank" no biggie... not until the hospital I work at became the ground zero in my province. No one told us. We only knew someone who should be classified as “probable” first was admitted in our hospital through social media and it was when the patient was already classified as “confirmed”. The local government likes to conceal confirmed cases. I don’t know what good will it bring to everyone though.

I originally never wanted to practice this profession, self. You know because of my internship trauma as well as my infamous phobia with needles. Just as when I was able to overcome it, this pandemic happened. I have never been so scared to go to work. It doesn’t really show on the outside but I’m really scared. Scared that everything that my parents worked so hard for would be put to waste once I contract the virus at work. Not just that, I might bring it with me at home... putting other people at stake.

It scary how there’s no assurance for my future at the moment. I was just starting!!! I was only working for a year! I was only eight months through with my St. Peter plan. I have yet to get life insurance plans for myself and my family.

I am now questioning myself for choosing my convenience over a better employer. Should I have endured being away from my family for a better employment? Had I known a pandemic would be a battle of who's the better employer, I would’ve set aside my internship trauma for a better employer. The thought makes me sick though.

It’s scary how I am almost nonchalant about dying. I have reached this point that I don’t bother thinking about my future anymore. This is actually the first time I thought of the future in weeks. It’s scary how I always agonize about how we would die because we will one way or another. It’s only a matter of time until the system kills us before the virus can.

I’m frustrated because I only go to work for the sake of salary. But I also swear, I do things with integrity. That's the least I can do. Due to the community quarantine, we are quite financially struggling. My mother being a government employee and my father, an overseas filipino worker plus me being a “government worker” as well automatically voided us of any financial help from the government. It’s fine for me because there are people who need it more than us but my blood boils whenever I see news of those being robbed of this help because of local officials’ greed. Do we deserve this?

Pro Deo et Patria.

For God and Country.

I used to use this as my email signature as well as work mantra.

Is it still worth it?

I don’t know who’s the real enemy anymore. The pandemic has exposed how broken our system and government is that we, the minority in government service has been seeing on a daily even before the pandemic made the exposé.

Are we going to get through this?

Am I still going to read this letter few years from now?

I’m tired.

Everyone’s tired.

The world is so crazy right now.

Fighting for life, I was a COVID19 Warrior.

Five years from now,

Was everything worth it, future self? Did I make it?

Did we make it?

[illshowyourhurricanes]

A Familiar Face (Part Five)

I’ve been struggling with this chapter since August 15 (but to be fair, I have written a few drabbles/one-shots since, so I’m cutting myself a break. After an even that’s jarred our reader’s life, Ryan swoops in like the angelic gentleman he is as her knight in shining armor. This chapter is a lot of set-up for things to come, and there may also be a surprise or two in store for y’all here!

Rating: PG

Word count: 1876

Tag list: @dylanobrusso @obscurilicious @the-blind-assassin-12 @something-tofightfor @ms-delos @madamrogers @lexxierave @benbarnestongue @yannii04 @gollyderek @carlaangel86 @poindexted @maydayfigment @thisisparadisemylove 

If you’d like to be added to or removed from my tag list, just ask!

Enjoy!

After packing a bag with clothing and other essentials and grabbing the pan of still unfinished lasagna, you and Ryan made your way to Georgie’s. It was absolutely freezing out, flakes of snow starting to float downward, relieving the heavy clouds above of their weight. The two of you walked the short distance in silence. Disjointed thoughts stuttered through your mind. Should you call the police? File a report? You need to make an insurance claim. You need to get an alarm system installed. How much did those run? When would it be safe to go back home? Instead, should you start the exhausting work of finding a new apartment for rent? You’d have to break your lease. That would be another hurdle to jump. You watched your breath turn to smoke, glancing at Ryan when he lead you onto a long gravel drive. His khaki hat was wet with snow: the tip of his nose was pink. 

When the house came into view, you were instantly charmed with it. It was an old cottage-style craftsman home, white paint peeling in several areas over the wooden siding. Despite the care it needed on the outside, there was a welcoming quality about it. It was quaint, much like the place you’d grown up in. There were a few overgrown shrubs lining the perimeter of the structure, and you noticed as you came closer that it was raised, several steps leading up to its entrance. A porch, supported by plain, square posts led up to the front door. A wooden porch swing hung from rusted chains, secured by hooks from the rafters. 

“Georgie ain’t home much.” Ryan’s voice cut through your assessment of the home. You looked to the man walking beside you, guitar case and pack almost like extra appendages. Silently, you fondly recalled the way he tried to take your bag or at least the baking dish. He’d make it work, he promised. His arms were free. You were quickly learning that Ryan was raised a gentleman. 

“Home more’n I’d ever be.” His boots thudded with each step he took on the porch floor, your own steps breaking his even rhythm into more of a staccato. As his hand delved into one of his coat pockets, you attempted to stomp most of the snow from your boots. Within seconds, Ryan unlocked the door with a quiet click, and a rush of warmth floated toward the two of you. With a deep bow of the head, Ryan motioned for you to walk inside before him-- there was that gentlemanly manner again-- and you did so quickly, allowing him to also step into the warmth of the house. 

The difference in temperature was stark. As soon as Ryan secured the door shut behind him, he set his guitar case just beyond the threshold, followed by his pack. Immediately after, he took the dish from you. Appreciation was apparent as you met his eyes. Ryan averted his gaze rather quickly, nodding in acceptance with a shy, boyish smile. 

You heard the squeak of the oven door and began to take your gloves off, finger by finger, followed by your coat and scarf. There was a bare, wooden coat rack by the door that you draped your discarded layers over. Taking a few steps to reach the oven, you saw that Ryan had already set it to 375 degrees. He simply shrugged with a grin and tugged off his coat, pausing momentarily  just before draping it over the back of a kitchen chair.

A note pinned to the refrigerator door had caught his eye, stuck haphazardly by a lone magnet:

Brenner,

Last-minute plans on the state line. 

Be back in a few days. 

You looked to him curiously as he took down the note, holding it up for you to see. “Looks like it’s just you ‘n me. Georgie’s headin’ outta town.”

Looks like it’s just you ‘n me. Ryan’s deep tenor of a voice echoed in your head, the lilt and lull of his drawl bouncing melodically inside your skull. The way he spoke was even mellifluent; this fleeting thought floating lazily throughout your mind was a pleasantry, but it didn’t translate physically. All your expression gave way to was surprise. You felt your eyes grow wide and your mouth fall open wordlessly.

“Oh.” It was the first thing that you said in response, and you were horrified. You felt the heat rising to your cheeks and wished for a sinkhole to appear and swallow you whole. In an effort to recover, you shrugged your shoulders in what you hoped would buy you at least a few seconds of time. Maybe you didn’t possess the words at that moment to tell Ryan how you felt about the arrangement, but through the residual shock and anxiety of the best kind clouding your head, you managed to meet his warm, dark eyes, and you smiled. And for the first time since you’d arrived stunned at an apartment that was no longer your home, that smile reached your eyes. 

Other than his name and street address, Ryan hadn’t gone into any details about his friend. “Is Georgie a musician too?” you found yourself asking as you abandoned your bag by the door. The size of his pack dwarfed your duffel, stuffed tight with whatever necessities you could fit inside. The smell of your lasagna teased your nose and you drew closer, sitting on one of the two wooden chairs at the table. 

“Georgie’s one of the best damn fiddlers there is. He’s got the spirit to go with it too.” Ryan paused momentarily, lifting the brim of his khaki cap and pulling it off, discarding it onto the counter top beside him. It was the first time you’d seen him without the barrier of the shadow caused by its brim, and the difference was almost starting. His hair was overgrown, thick and black. A chunk of hair fell over his forehead and he brushed it back absentmindedly. His eyes always radiated a warmth you’d never encountered before, yet in the light without anything to hide behind, you could swear that they glowed. 

“One of those types that you swear you’ve known for a lifetime an’ can’t help but talk to. No reason to hide. Hard to come by but close to feelin’ like a sense of somethin’ that sticks around when you’re always movin’.” A slight furrow of his brows, Ryan leaned back against the counter. His eyes looked faraway in thought. He missed the road. You’d never discussed it in depth, but just from things he said, little conversations you’d had, you knew Ryan wasn’t the type of man who could stay still for long. The hunger for change, for the promise of boundlessness that living on the road never broke… it wasn’t a way of life for him. It was life. The knowledge that he would be leaving, whether sooner or later, made your chest feel heavy, but you’d never ask. Somehow, that felt like an intimate question, one that you weren’t sure you qualified for an answer to. If there were things Ryan wanted you to know, he’d find a way to say them. 

Yet if he did offer that information-- if he decided it meant something to him to tell you just how many more days it would be before he hopped a moving train car to the next place he felt was right-- you didn’t feel as if you deserved it. Since the information that your apartment was no longer a safe place had sunken in, you’d known the answers to the questions he’d asked you-- did you know who did this? Was there a motive? Shell-shocked and suddenly exhausted, you shook your head and whispered a “no”. This man who offered you kindness, who brightened the dreariness of the relentless cold and over-forty-hour weeks you worked with the melodies he played without second thought, this man who had quickly grown to mean something to you hadn’t gotten the truth. He’d gotten a lie, multiple times. 

You wanted to tell Ryan Brenner everything. You wanted to tell him that your twin brother was an addict. You wanted to tell him that he’d gotten himself involved in dangerous things with dangerous people. You wanted to tell him that you know he was the person who had invaded your space and poisoned it with the residue of things you’d never be able to get out of your mind. You wanted to tell him that this was why you were a loner, this was why you worked so much. But this wasn’t the reason you’d grown so attached to Ryan. It was the one thing you couldn’t connect to all that had gone wrong with your brother, and it was jarring. Ryan’s words resonated in your mind : Hard to come by but close to feelin’ like a sense of somethin’ that sticks around when you’re always movin’. 

You were the one who stuck around while Noel was always moving. You’d been his constant through two failed stints in rehab. You’d gone to every NA meeting with him. You’d let him stay with you free of charge until he brought drugs into your home. That’s when the locks were changed. Irony struck you: perhaps Noel was the one who was the constant. 

Ryan noticed that way you had gotten quiet after he had told you a little about Georgie. It was the longest real stretch of silence the two of you had shared. In your short time of knowing one another, you’d talked without expecting  him to talk back in volumes, and that alone captivated him. You were free with what you offered him, and there was always a glimmer of excitement in your eyes no matter how long  or tedious your shift had been on any given day  

It struck him that your eyes seemed to stare past your surroundings, void of that glint he’d learned to always look for. In addition, there was a small furrow of your brow. He allowed himself to watch you for a moment, the expression of thought and confusion on your face: the tense set of your shoulders. Even lost in thought, you were beautiful, and he’d noticed thhat the first moment he laid eyes on you. He’d traveled for years and had seen his fair share of beautiful women, but you were different.. The element that made you so alluring above all the rest was that you saw yourself as a generic model of a woman. You didn’t put yourself down, but you didn’t put on a charade to build yourself up either. You came without pretense, and Ryan appreciated that. He found you to be captivating in your honesty. Maybe he’d tell you one day, but in that moment, he sensed defeating your demeanor and remained quiet, allowing you to organize your thoughts. 

The timer on the old oven buzzed loudly, yanking you out of your reverie with a start. Before you could rise from your chair, Ryan had a mitten hand in the oven and was pulling out a piping hot

lasagna, cheese bubbling over the top. The smell in the small kitchen grew stronger and you smiled at Ryan. 

“Hungry?”