#i waited like 2.5 years since buying it and man. man. was i a fool.

[ajarofpickledtears]

tfw there's still so much story left and things to unfold and issues to be dealt with but you've reached the last page of the book

[utterlyinevitable]

Could you please, please write OH3 Bryce X Becca angsty break-up piece but with happy ending this time? Please and thank you!♡

Of course 💕

[Part 1 is here.]

Bryce x Becca OHSY/OH3 Breakup (Part 2) 

Bryce didn’t know where he was going. It was late and he really didn’t want to do the 5-hour drive back to Boston. 

So he texted his sister. 

He could make it to her school in 2.5 hours if he caught the last ferry to Connecticut, that way he could decompress and wouldn’t have to drive for an hour.  

Becca sat in her apartment, stunned, for under two minutes. This couldn’t possibly be the end. Could it? 

In sheer panic, she threw on a cardigan and her slippers and ran downstairs. 

She hoped to god he was just sitting on the stoop stewing in their tiff. 

But he wasn’t. 

And his car wasn’t parked at the curb anymore. 

Becca ran back inside, taking the two flights of stairs two steps at a time, to call him. 

No answer. 

She called again. 

Nothing. 

And again. 

Straight to voicemail. 

So she texted. 

She texted everything she was feeling and every reason why she couldn’t decide. Why she didn’t know what she wanted. Why she was caught off guard and everything was moving faster than the earth on its axis. 

She told him she loved him, and that she never could have imagined the amount of happiness she feels with him. 

She told him everything. 

And she told him that she’s scared. That she feels like she’s been running away for a while. That there’s so much in life she didn’t know she wanted to experience. But she wanted to do them with him. 

She was afraid and it was a mistake and please just come back. 

Bryce didn’t get any of those messages. 

He muted her number until he got his head straight. 

Becca grabbed her computer and booked the next chartered flight to Boston. 

Bryce got to Keiki’s boarding school at 2AM. 

She was waiting for him in the visitor’s parking lot with a guest pass she printed off for the car.  “Are you okay?”  “I’ll be fine. Just need to sleep it off.” 

They walked to her dorm in relative silence. 

Her roommate was excited to have the hot surgeon brother stay with them. That excitement quickly faltered when he barely acknowledged her. 

The two teens complied as many blankets and pillows as they could get their hands on to make Bryce a comfortable makeshift bed on the floor. 

He didn’t care. He flopped into the pile, clutching a pillow and trying to will himself to sleep. 

It didn’t work. 

His mind was racing and he wanted to talk to her. He wanted to beg her to reconsider. 

He wanted to understand why she didn’t love him just as much. 

He also really really really needed a drink.  _

It was 4AM when she landed in Boston. 

Becca called the one person she could count on at world-shattering times like these. 

Ethan was waiting for her at arrivals. “Are you going to tell me what happened?” “That depends on if I can have my job back or not.” “Done. But that was a simple phone call. Why am I picking you up at the airport at such an ungodly hour?” 

She told him that she made the biggest mistake. She told him this is her grand romantic gesture. 

He drove her to Bryce’s apartment. 

Becca banged on the door. She made as much noise as she could to stir a possibly exhausted man on the other side.  

When nothing happened, she waited outside. Stubbornly sitting outside his apartment door for two hours before calling her friends. 

No one heard from him and Becca was less than inclined to tell them the full story of their fight. 

Instead of going right home, Bryce spent the rest of the weekend with Keiki trying to forget. 

Becca crashed with Sienna. She’d go back to Bryce’s every few hours to see if he was there. 

Her antics and worrisome pacing got so ridiculous that Elijah and Jackie reached out to Bryce, but all he responded was: “I’m fine.” 

Becca took the news better than any of them thought. She nodded one and plastered on a smile. 

Then she was out the door. 

Becca used the rest of her time in Boston wisely.  

Mostly liaising with Ethan about the job. 

She was erratic and wanted to start ASAP. She’d give up everything for Bryce in that moment. 

Her fear of losing him was greater than her career aspirations. 

Ethan wouldn’t let her make a rash decision based on frivolous emotions.  “Finish your last five months of residency at Weill. I can offer you a job immediately after.”  “It’s got to be now. You just don’t understand, Ethan.”  “Have you spoken with Lahela since the fight?”  “No, and that’s why I need to be back in Boston ASAP.”  “Don’t do something stupid and uninformed.” 

She stormed out of his office on the verge of tears. 

It had been 38 hours since Bryce left her in New York, and not a single sign of him coming back to her. 

The last time she knocked on his door was a half-assed effort. Her knuckles gently grazing the wood. She wasn’t hopeful at all. 

She also had two hours to kill until her train back.

Still no answer. 

Becca leaned her forehead against the door, regretting every single thing that happened to get them to this point. If she would have just put someone else first and not been so self-centered, she could have had that coveted Happily Ever After. 

Bryce was a once in a lifetime lover. 

She fell to the floor and cried one last time. 

She wasn’t sure how long she was huddled there. 

It was long enough for people to notice her. 

“Can I help you?” 

Becca looked up at the figure. 

Through her tears she could see him. 

Through her sobs she choked out, “I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry.”

He kept his hands deep in his pockets. He wanted to get past her and into his apartment. But he stood there. If he moved towards her he’d invite her in. Into his apartment, into his arms, into his heart. 

“What’re you doing here, Rebecca?” 

The tears started flowing freely, tragically. He never ever called her by her full name and now he’s done it twice. She was always ‘Becks’ to him. 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean- We can work through this.”  “I don’t think we can. You either want a life with me or you don’t. And from the looks of it, you don’t.”  “I do, Bryce. I do. Truly.”  “Could have fooled me.” 

She stood up finally. 

Bryce took advantage of the bit of space between them, enough to unlock the door. 

She felt the ice coming off his shoulder. 

So she reiterated everything. 

From her fears to her feelings to what she thinks she needs and knows she wants. 

And she told him about asking Ethan for her job back and moving back here for him.  

Bryce was stuck in place. In his doorway, stuck between shutting her out and letting her in. 

“I think you should stay in New York.”  “What-”  “Finish your residency. That’s the most important thing.” 

His broken amber eyes finally met hers. 

“Then what?”  He said the next words sarcastically and so full of light malice; “What do you want me to say?”  “Ask me. Ask me again.” 

Bryce watched the tears build up and the desperation overtake her. 

“Ask me to come back to Edenbrook. Ask me to move in. Ask me again, Bryce, please.” 

They implored one another. The silence between them getting greater and greater. Neither really sure of what they were doing anymore. What the point of all of this was. 

Every single memory and vision of their wishful future played out before him. 

Of them living in this apartment for the next few years. Of them moving out of the city and buying a house in the suburbs, somewhere near the beach. Of them at Keiki’s graduation and moving her into her college dorm. Of showing her where he grew up and having a romantic evening overlooking the sunset. Of her formally agreeing to everything. Of them planning the best party with all their loved ones. Of them welcoming the twins she’s always wanted. And of all the ways she’s looked at him with that sleepy smile every morning and every evening. Of them being there together every step of the way, side by side the way they belonged. 

The sweetness overcame him. 

“If I do, you have to promise me one thing. And you can’t take it back, it’ll be set in stone.”  “Anything,” she nodded. 

Bryce said the next words slow and with the most honest of intentions. They were confident and vulnerable. 

“Marry me.” 

Her eyes went wide. Suddenly all the tears had dried up and the stains across her cheeks stung. 

Bryce continued; “If I ask you again, you have to promise you’ll marry me when my residency is over. Three years. Because I’m not doing this for nothing, Becks. You’re it for me.” 

They looked at each other one last time. 

He had given her one last out. 

She wiped whatever remnants of the turmoil from her face with the sleeve of her cardigan.

“Ask me.” 

Bryce smiled. His megawatt smile peering through the sadness. 

“Move in with me, Becks? Let’s start our lives together right here in Boston.” 

She bit her lip. 

Becca smiled back;  “Yes.”  

[dillydedalus]

august reading

minus my women in translation month reads, because i’m still working on the last one but want to include it... that wrap-up will come in a few days once i’m done with the last book. 

not all dead white men: classics and misogyny in the digital age, donna zuckerberg classicist donna zuckerberg (facebook dude’s sister!) talks about how the alt-right, pick-up artists, incels etc. use the classics to assert & justify their misogyny and racism & portray themselves as the inheritors/saviours of western civilisation etc. the main examples she looks at are stoicism, ovid’s ars amatoria, and ancient narratives about sexual violence, which were all really interesting, but i feel like this could have been expanded a lot. 3.5/5

magic for liars, sarah gailey fun & cool crime story about a murder at a secret magical school (school nurse cut in half in magical library!), answering the burning question of what would happen if petunia dursley became a somewhat dysfunctional PI & had to solve a magical murder at hogwarts, where lily is a teacher. 3/5

the lie tree, frances hardinge frances hardinge writes the kind of middle grade/YA books i wish i could have read between like 10-14, where the world is spooky and the girls are angry spiteful stubborn resourceful sneaky things. i loved a skinful of shadows and i loved the lie tree, where curious snake girl (not literally it’s not that kind of a book) has to investigate her scandal-hounded natural scientist father’s death by spreading lies on the miserable island he died on and literally feeding them to spooky science-defying tree - and faith is very good at lying, and very angry, and very much willing to drag the whole island down with her. read for spooky trees, fake ghosts, and victorian male natural scientists being dumb and sexist & victorian female (& thus secret) natural scientist being smart & awesome. 4.5/5

the dead ladies project: exiles, expats & ex-countries, jessa crispin i have been at turns in love & really annoyed with crispin’s 2012 essay on william james, berlin & her own mental breakdown (x) since uh..... 2012 - it says some really interesting things about berlin’s capital-i Image as the city for self-destructive broke & weird messes, it’s very quotable, while also being some of the most irritating Anglophone Expat in Berlin Bullshit ever concocted (’we have surprisingly affordable rents’ sure didn’t age well.....) and saying almost nothing about the actual city outside of the Expat Bubble (apparently every single person in berlin is here because they feel like a failure.... YALL SOME PEOPLE JUST LIVE HERE). this book, structured around crispin’s soul-searching trip around europe, with each city being discussed in connection with an artist/writer/artist’s wife/etc who lived there, opens with that essay and i’m still torn. the thing is, crispin is smart & well-read & occasionally capable of some interesting insight & good writing..... she is also at times utterly insufferable, ranting at length about how she despises women who perform learned helplessness & prioritise men over everything else only to turn around & do the same fucking thing over & over, incl. going on endlessly about her torturous affair with a married writer, performing her ‘broke but independent woman traveller’ while uh.... staying at a friend’s luxurious farmhouse in switzerland for free... at one point she says she never felt at home in kansas bc based on her looks people don’t believe she’s really from kansas & constantly ask her where she’s REALLY from because.... y’all.... while she’s a good-looking white woman she has an ANGULAR FACE. sure jan. there is so much cool stuff in here, and i wish crispin had kept some most of the personal stuff out of it. 2/5 

mansfield park, jane austen hmmmm... austen is always good but this feels like it’s maybe the one novel of hers that is most negatively affected by values dissonance in that its morality feels like it’s from an alien culture which considers a private theatre performance to be the very height of impropriety (aka regency england apparently); as a result, fanny, a passive, timid, neglected girl of strong convictions often comes across as a moralistic prig (i will make no excuses for edmund, who’s just a patronising sanctimonious prig outright). there’s a quiet sort of triumph in fanny’s integrity & conviction in the face of a literal campaign of harrassment from everyone in her life including the dude she’s in love with to marry a reforming (maybe) rake & i love her for that, but her triumph in returning to mansfield park elevated in the esteem of everyone there (except aunt norris who is delightfully vile) feels empty considering that these are the same people who previously neglected her. also edmund sucks. 3/5 #justice4marycrawford #mary/fannyOTP #alsoarewegonnatalkabouttheslavery #guessnot

fool’s quest (fitz & the fool #2), robin hobb the first one in this trilogy was pretty much slow-paced set-up and character development... this one is much better: there’s a lot going on & the character development feels much more organic & complex - fitz seems to have come down from Peak Dumbass a bit & i really liked how it developed shun (shine!!!) and lant, who felt really one-dimensionally awful last book. also there are so many moments when the farseer family really comes thru for fitz & i cried literally every single time. so yeah. this one’s great, can’t wait for the next one but i also really don’t want it to be over :/ 4/5

what matters in jane austen, john mullan fun little collection of essays looking at specific details and minutae and their meaning/importance in austen’s work - like, how old are the characters (incl. age differences), how do characters address each other, what do games do they play, what about the servants, etc. don’t expect deep litcrit but it’s fun. 2.5/5

dead mountain: the untold true story of the dyatlov pass incident, donnie eichar hello i’m fred & i am obsessed with mountaineering disasters. the dyatlov pass incident refers to a night in 1959 where 9 russian hikers died in the ural mountains after they left their tent half-dressed without shoes for ~mysterious reasons. it’s pretty creepy & theories about it run from ‘avalanche’ to ‘animal [yeti] attack’ to ‘aliens and/or soviet conspiracy theory’. eichar too is super obsessed w/ this mystery and even went to the ural mountains & the dyatlov pass to investigate, which sadly makes for the least interesting (and possibly the longest) part of this book (the other timelines are the dyatlov group hike & the investigations after their deaths). the ‘59 timelines are both interesting tho & provide a good look into how weird the whole thing is. i enjoyed this, but i wish he had cut the endless chapters of him investigating, which is mostly russians being like ‘idk man aliens/radioactivity/secret govt agents?’ and him hiking around in a lot of snow, neither of which really added to his theory or my enjoyment. 2/5

if beale street could talk, james baldwin baldwin’s prose is staggeringly brilliant as always. this is a story about a young black couple (tish, who is the narrator, and fonny) in the 70s who are planning to move together and marry when fonny is wrongly arrested for rape by a racist cop with a grudge; tish and her family try to get him out, especially once tish realises that she’s pregnant. tish is a great narrator, at the same time kind of naive and soft, and full of world-weary cynicism about white institutions and racism, and her narrative voice at times drifts in and out of other characters’ minds, which i found an interesting effect. as many baldwin’s novels this is full of rage & violence & tenderness & tiny sparks of hope. 4/5

lady susan, jane austen epistolary novella about a 35-year-old lady susan, a scheming, ruthless, not-so-grieving widow, who is trying to get her timid daughter frederica married to a buffoon. while staying with her sweetly clueless brother-in-law vernon and trying to win over his much more suspicious wife, she makes the wife’s brother reginald (lol) fall in love with her. a very different protag and story for austen & while the end can’t quite commit to either punishing susan very much or letting her triumph, it is a lot of fun. 3/5

on a sunbeam, tillie walden this is an absolutely beautiful (the colours!) graphic novel about a spaceship crew (the spaceship is a fish) who fly around & restore old space buildings. it’s also a story about a romance between two young girls at a boarding school (in space) and about found families and deep space and there’s not a single man in this, just women and elliot, who’s nonbinary. lovely, dreamy and completely gorgeous. want me a fish spaceship. 4/5

between birthday books and birthday giftcards i also acquired uh.... 12 new books??? which is INSANE. i’m not committing to a book buying ban but i should probably chill a lil in the next few months. 

[shenanigans-and-imagines]

We’re the Bad Guys: Part 3

(Not my gif)

Masterlist

AO3 Link/ Support Me on Ko-fi

Poe Dameron x Reader (eventually), First Order!Reader

Summary: From the day you were born, you were taught the rebels and their New Republic were the bad guys. But, after you crash land on a remote moon with only the Resistance’s poster boy for company, things begin the change.

Based off of this drabble and headcanon 

A/N:  Regular release schedule; what’s that? But seriously guys, thank you for your patience.  I really appreciate it.  Also, PLEASE REBLOG AND COMMENT IF YOU LIKE THIS.  Nothing motivates me more.  I’m dead serious.

Word Count: 2.5 K

        You didn’t move from your spot until the sun had almost disappeared from the sky.  Neither you nor Dameron had said a word to each other since his declaration.  You knew you would have to be the one to break the silence, but you weren’t sure what to say.  Over the years, you had made a point not to find yourself relying on others.

        Your parent’s words came back to you.

        The galaxy does not dole out favors.  Every debt must be repaid.

        With little to occupy yourself, you had spent the time watching Dameron as he set up camp.  He kept quiet for the most part, occasionally talking with his droid and making trips off into the surrounding forest for firewood.  If he noticed you staring, he didn’t mention it.  His droid, however, was not so inclined.  Every now and again, its little round head would turn to you beeping and whistling in an accusatory tone.  You paid it little mind.

        Just as the sky finally turned from purple to inky black, the sparks of a fire could be seen across the clearing.  Dameron sat on a log near the fire poking at it idly with a stick.  A box sat across from it at a comfortable distance from the flames.  The intent was obvious, but he made no attempt to call you over.  

        You tried to resist.  Your flight suit would keep you warm enough, or so you told yourself.  

        A cold wind hit the back of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine and across your chest. Goosebumps were forming under your suit.  You let out a shuttered breath.  Even your gloved hands were getting cold. Your entire body screamed for you to move closer to the flames, but your pride refused.  You were not going to give Dameron the satisfaction.

        It was then you saw him get up from his seat and walk towards the forest.

        You waited a few seconds for him to return.  

        A silence came over the clearing, broken only by the crackle of the fire. It was so close.  You glanced back to the tree line.  

        Nothing.

        You gave in and pushed yourself off the log. Your leg clenched in pain with every staggered limp.  Your face contorted in pain, holding back your cries as you inched closer. After what felt like an entirety, you reached the fire.

        Your entire body sighed with relief the moment you sat down.  Your leg still ached from walking, but at least you were warm. Without thinking, you pulled off your gloves, and held them in front of the fire.  Feeling was starting to return to them as you clench and unclenched them for circulation.

        You caught a rustle of movement out of the corner of your eye.  Your body stiffened for a fight as you turned toward the forest.  You needn’t had bothered. Dameron stood before you holding a rather large branch at his side and wearing a concerned look.  

        “Don’t tell me you walked here by yourself,” he asked.

        You rolled your eyes. “Well, I didn’t teleport.”

        He opened his mouth in disbelief, before shaking his head.

        “Guess I got this for nothing,” he said, indicating the branch.  Never the less, he set it beside you.  Upon closer inspection, you saw it was the perfect height for a walking stick.  You blinked in surprise and lay it across your lap.  Had he really gone into the forest, at night to get you a walking stick?  You looked up to see him going through one of the survival packs.  He then crossed back over and silently held out a food packet.  

        Despite wanting nothing more than to shove it back in his face, your body betrayed you.  Your stomach twisted at the possibly of food and your hand reached for it before you could tell it otherwise.

        The pilot gave a small nod and turned to his side of the camp.  He didn’t expect anything from you, and, for some reason, that bothered you.  Without thinking, you gave a small sincere, “Thank you.”

        He paused, staring at you in stun silence.  Then, slowly, a sideways smile curled on his lip.  He didn’t say anything. He only huffed out a small chuckle before taking a seat across from you, the smile never leaving him.  You were grateful he hadn’t made a scene. You were certain your pride couldn’t handle it.

        You took a bite.  It wasn’t the worst thing you had ever eaten, but it wasn’t the best.  Still, it did its job and sated you.  

        Dameron pulled out a packet of his own, but stopped just before he took his first bite.  

        “Oh, almost forgot,” he said, breaking the silence.  He pulled a bag out of the darkness and tossed it over to you. “Thought you’d might like this back.”

        You caught it, trying to suppress the surprise on your face.  Opening the bag, you found an assortment of things which could had only come from your ship.  

        The first thing you found was your helmet.  It was surprisingly intact with only a handful of scraps along the sides. Next was an assortment of food packets and medical supplies.  Some of the sides were burnt and ash stained, but there was enough for a few days. Finally, at the bottom, was an emergency compact blaster.  

        Your heart rate suddenly spiked.  Slowly, you reached your hand into the bag, mindful not to let Dameron see what was inside.  Upon picking it up, you immediately noticed something was off. It was too light.  Turning it over, you saw the battery packs were missing.  You looked up to see Dameron giving you a sly grin. Without a word, he slipped his hand behind his back and pulled out the battery packs.

        “I’m not stupid, pilot,” he said, cheerfully.

        You let out a huff, letting the bag drop to the ground.  “You could have fooled me.”

        He grinned, brushing off the insult with a short laugh.  

        “You know, I still don’t know you name,” he said, opting to change the subject.

        “And you won’t.”

        “Well, I can’t just keep calling you, Pilot.”

        You shrugged, making it clear that “pilot” was all he was going to get.

        His expression was a perfect mix of humor and exasperation as he rolled his eyes. “Alright, Pilot, answer me this; what kind of person packs a survival bag with absolutely nothing personal inside?”

        “The efficient kind.”

        He shook his head.  “See, I don’t buy that.  I know pilots.”

        “Do you?”

        “You bet.  And they don’t go anywhere without something; a good luck charm, holos of loved ones, whatever.  And if it’s not in their survival pack, it’s on their person.”

        You jaw twitched at the observation.  He wasn’t wrong.  Even in the First Order where such superstitions were looked down upon, even Stormtroopers had small mementos either in their Tie-fighters on in their packs at all times.  

        “It could just be in my pocket,” you offered.

        “No, I checked that.”

        Your eyes narrowed, as a sudden feeling of being violated washed over you.

        Dameron seemed to catch your thoughts as he threw his hands up in defense. “I needed to make sure you weren’t going to stab me.”

        “Has that happened?”

        “A few times,” he said, with a little too charming of a smile.  “So, how come you don’t have anything?”

        Your expression remained completely blank even as your stomach twisted and the need to escape took hold of you.  “Nothing worth having,” you said, simply.

        Your answer caught him off guard, as his head cocked curiously to the side. “Don’t you have a family?”

        “Yes.”

        “And you don’t even keep a holo of them?”

        You had to roll your eyes at that. “They’re soldiers.  They’re not sentimental.”

        “So were mine,” he countered.

        You stared at him in confusion as he reached into his flight suit.  From around his neck, he pulled out a long chain. Dangling on the end, was a single gold ring.

        “My mom’s,” he explained.

        You weren’t sure how to respond.  It was too personal an item to share with a stranger.  He was getting too familiar.  

        “And that’s your good luck charm?” you said, skeptically.

        He grinned, tucking the ring back under his shirt. “I’ve had a good track record so far.”

        “Until today.”

        He didn’t say anything right away, taking the time to look up idly into the sky. “Well, I think that depends on who picks us up first.”

        You weren’t sure whether to be annoyed or impressed by his optimism, and so settled for something in the middle. “Whatever makes you sleep better.”

        “They’ll come,” he said with conviction.  “Resistance doesn’t leave their own behind.”

        “And you assume the First Order does?”

        He turned his eyes away from the heavens and back to you, giving you an ironic smile. “You said yourself, you weren’t raised to be sentimental.”

        Your entire body bristled at the implication.  “They’ll come,” you said, sharply. “And you won’t be able to luck your way out of it.”

        “Never say never, Pilot,” he countered, looking all too pleased at his ability to get under your skin.

        You let out a frustrated sigh, making a point not to look at him.  You wished the First Order would just get here already.  You weren’t sure how much more of Commander Dameron’s company you could take.

        “Can I ask you another question,” he asked.  

        “No,” you said blankly.

        “Okay, you ask me one.”

        “What makes you think I want to know anything about you?”

        “Mutual curiosity?” he said, giving a noncommittal shrug. “Believe it or not, I don’t get shot down that often.  Personally, I’d like to get the know the person who actually did it.”

        It was a trap.  You knew it was, but you couldn’t help yourself.  The man was utterly baffling.  There had to be something about him you could understand.

        “Fine,” you conceded.  “Why aren’t you still with the Republic Navy?”

        “What do you mean?”

        “I mean, you’re a brilliant pilot.”  

        His face lit up at the comment.  He opened his mouth to speak, but you stopped him with a raised hand. “It’s not a compliment, it’s an observable fact,” you continued.  “Your parents were obviously rebellion.  They fought for your future.  You undoubtedly had a promising career ahead of you in your New Republic, but you left. For what? Glory of a different kind?”

        “I’m not in it for the glory,” he defended.

        “Then what exactly?”

        He took a breath, running a hand through his hair.  He seemed to do that whenever he needed to gather his thoughts, or was frustrated.  You suspected this time it was a combination of the two.

        “My parents were rebels,” he said, carefully. “They fought against the Empire to bring peace to the galaxy.  That’s exactly what I’m doing.”

        You shook your head.  He truly was a fool.  “You’re fighting for chaos.”

        His eyes narrowed at your tone.  “You’re the one declaring war on us.”

        “Your Republic can’t even decide if they want to fight us or not. Seems pretty chaotic to me.”

        “At least we don’t terrorize innocent people into submission.”

        “Members of the First Order weren’t terrorized into anything,” you said, somehow managing to keep you voice calm. “The Empire was peaceful under the Emperor’s rule. We seek to restore that peace.  It was you rebels who escalated things.”

        He laughed.  It was a dark, hollow sound, completely alien from his easy features.  It disturbed you.  “Is that what they taught you in First Order history class?” he asked sarcastically.

        Your jaw tightened, as all the stories you had been told over the years poured into your mind, threatening to drown you in their depths.  He didn’t know you.  He couldn’t possibly understand.

        “It’s what my parents saw,” you stated.

        The building anger on Dameron’s face dissipated at your words.  What was left was begrudging understanding. “Well, my parents saw something else.”

        “So that’s why you fight,” you asked, “to prove your parents right?”

        “No.” He was firm in that.  The confidence was back as he met your gaze with determined eyes. “I fight because not fighting, when you know people are getting hurt, makes you just as bad as the people doing the hurting.”

        You wanted to laugh at his almost child-like naiveté, but you couldn’t.  It was too honorable a notion.  

        “Why do you?” he asked.

        “I fight for the life I should have been mine.”

        You froze at your own words.  You hadn’t meant to answer him.  Why you fought was your own business.  But you had answered.  How was he getting you to talk so easily?

        “Is that the one you wanted or the one your parents wanted for you?”

        Your eyes hardened at the question.  Too familiar.

        “Don’t pretend you know me,” you said, darkly. “You have no idea what the rebellion took from us.”

        “Enlighten me then.”

        You said nothing.  You didn’t have to explain to him.  You didn’t owe him anything.

        He let out a long-frustrated sigh. “You’re a stubborn pilot, I’ll give you that.”

        “That makes two of us.”

        There was a long silence.  It wasn’t comfortable, but it didn’t hold the tension you had thought it would.  

        This had been the longest conversation you had had with anyone since you could remember.  You hadn’t given Dameron much, but, it was more than you had ever told anyone.  Then again, you couldn’t think of a time anyone had asked.  

        There was a shift in the silence.  Both of you felt it. An understanding had passed between you even if neither of you knew what it meant.

        Suddenly, a long howl pierced the air, echoing in the clearing.

        “What was that?” you asked, spinning your head around in an attempt to locate the sound.  

        Another howl came, shorter and pain ridden.  Somewhere in the distance other creatures answered.  They seemed to be at all side around the clearing while at the same time, being a distance away.

        “I don’t know,” Poe said, turning his attention to the tree line.  

        The painful howl came back.  It was closer than the others, but you couldn’t pin point where.

        Dameron stood up, grabbing a lantern as he went.  “BB-8 keep an eye on them,” he ordered, before turning to you.  “Stay here.”

        “Wait, Dameron,” you protested.  But it was too late, he was already in the trees.

        “Dameron!”

        He didn’t respond. Silence filled the air, interrupted only by the wind and distant howls.  

        His droid cooed an uneasy whistle.  You understood the sentiment, exactly.

        Let him go, your mind told you.  If he wants to die in the forest let him.  It’s his choice.  This has nothing to do with you.  

        You stared out into the darkness.  The painful howl sounded once more, louder and more feral than before.  

        You gritted your teeth, knowing what you had to do. Every debt must be repaid. 

        “Damn it.”  

        You stood, grabbing your walking stick and empty blaster from your bag.

        “C’mon,” you told the droid.

        It beeped in understanding, following you into the woods.

        If the resistant pilot got you killed, you were going to haunt him in the afterlife. 

Permanent tag list: @sassy-satanunicorns, @roseslovedreams, @stargeek727, @kaliforniacoastalteens, @yourwonderbelle

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[ronaldmrashid]

Being A Landlord Tests My Faith In Humanity

I’ll never forget what James Carville, Bill Clinton’s lead strategist said to us at our high school commencement, “Always leave a place better than you found it.” His words have made me a more thoughtful person – always trying to pay for the bill, cleaning up after others long after a high school tennis match is over at a public park, and giving consulting clients more time without charging more.

The problem with being a thoughtful person is that unthoughtful people can drive you NUTS. If you want to save yourself from a lot of agitation, I suggest being a selfish person who only thinks about yourself. You won’t go very far in life because nobody will want to help you or do business with you. But at least you’ll be impervious to the negative affects of the selfishness of others!

For the past two years, I’ve had five tenants in my Marina single family house. They seemed like nice enough guys with nice enough jobs to pay the nice enough rent. There was just one problem. They didn’t give a FLYING F*CK about my property or the terms of the lease!

I’m writing this post to warn all of you folks who are considering being landlords that bad things can happen that will test your sanity. Anybody who believes that achieving financial independence early doesn’t take a lot of sacrifice is fooling themselves!

The other reason why I’m writing this post is to encourage myself to STOP trying to buy more physical property. I put in a all cash bid this week for $100,000 over asking for a house with ocean views. I lost because there were 10 other offers and the house was purposefully underpriced. Perhaps this post will help fight my property accumulation addiction!

My Pain In The Ass Tenants

If you haven’t figured it out by now, renting your house to five guys usually equals DISASTER, especially if all the guys were in a fraternity. I knew this when we agreed to the lease, but I also secretly hoped I wouldn’t find blowup dolls, pong tables, and kegs in the house (found them all in the first year!). Hope is a funny thing that makes people go against their best judgment.

Of course my good neighbors texted me to tell me whenever they threw parties way past curfew. Of course I also got notifications when they’d run across my neighbors’ roofs, drunk. If there was a San Francisco Tenant Blacklist, half of them would be on the list for sure.

The First Thoughtless Situation

Out of the 24 months they rented my house, their rent was late EIGHT times. Per the lease, any rent paid after the 4th day is considered late and subject to a $250 per day fine.

The first late payment, I wasn’t sweating it. I wasn’t worried about the second late payment either. But when the third late payment rolled around, I had a heart-to-heart conversation with the master tenant to start being more responsible and considerate since I had my own expenses associated with the house I had to pay every month. He agreed, apologized, and promised not to be late again.

Five months passed and once again they were late again. I asked him what was up, and he told me that his bank had some type of error. Uh huh. I knew he was lying, but I once again let it slide because the rent showed up a day later. Once again, I was too nice to enforce the $250/day penalty.

Then on July 4th weekend last year their rent payment was late again. This time, none of the tenants could get back to me about where the money was because they were all traveling. They finally paid the rent on the 10th, six days past the deadline. I was trying to find someway to get it through to the master tenant’s head that he was being completely irresponsible. So I used this analogy:

Imagine if your employer didn’t pay you on time every two weeks. Imagine if they decided to pay you whenever they felt like it? How would you feel? Because that is how I feel every time you’re late.

Once again, he nodded his head, apologized, and agreed to be more diligent. I forgave him again because I never felt he and the crew would not pay. I just felt they were completely thoughtless.

After the 8th late payment, I had a BRILLIANT idea. I told the master tenant, “Hey man, I know you’re having a tough time paying rent on time because you have to collect rent from four other guys, make sure everything clears, and then pay me at the bank. It sucks you can’t just automatically wire transfer the $9,000 each month. So here’s a solution! How about you cut me a written check and send it in the mail by the first of each month. I’ll wait until the 5th of each month before depositing it so that you’ve got enough money. This way, I’ll feel better knowing that at least I have a check in hand to deposit.”

He told me this was a fine idea, but never followed through. He proceeded to just go to my bank and deposit a check or cash into my account. It wasn’t the solution I wanted, but at least I was getting paid. Then just recently, they finally gave me their 31 day move-out notice, HOORAY!

One tenant needed to save money so he moved back home with his parents. Another tenant’s father bought him a one bedroom condo and will rent out his living room to one of the housemates. I’m not sure about the other two.

The Second Thoughtless Situation

Part of the lease states to maintain the yard and return it in the condition it was originally in. Maintaining the yard meant not letting the yard get overgrown with weeds, regularly watering the fruit trees, and not using it like a dumpster. I spent about $2,500 making the yard look nice a couple years before they moved in. They agreed to hire a gardner to maintain the yard twice a month.

Of course, they did no such thing. Here’s a picture of the yard during their time there.

Thanks guys for littering beer cans, breaking my bench, and letting the yard get overgrown!

They promised to get a gardener to make the yard look good again. But of course, the gardener never showed up four days before they planned to move out. Given they were consistently unreliable, I told them I’d do some leg work to make the yard look good again with my guy Luis, who ended up landscaping the back and front yard at my other single family home.

The tenants said OK. But then balked when I came back with the labor only price of $1,000. Then I told them if they were not willing to pay they should go ahead and do the work themselves, and they finally acquiesced.

After spending $1,400 (including materials) and two days completely overhauling the yard, a funny thing happened. As I was proudly showing the backyard to a leasing agent, I almost stepped in a pile of dog sh*t!

One of the tenants once again didn’t give a sh*t and decided after all that time and money spent, they’d bring a dog into the backyard, let him go #2, and just leave it there. Don’t you just LOVE it when dog owners let their dogs sh*t all over the sidewalk and never clean up after them? It’s infuriating. If you see a dog owner do such a thing, tell them to pick it up with their hands and dump it in their own house.

One tenant fessed up, “Sorry Sam, my girlfriend brought her dog to the house via the garage the other night for probably 5-10 minutes. I had no idea that happened, but my apologies. If not already cleaned up I will do it personally.”

Unbelievable.

The Third Thoughtless Situation

Two weeks before their move out date, I told the tenants to start getting rid of trash asap because the trash man would not pick up tons of extra trash that wouldn’t fit in the bins on their move out date. He might pick up one or two extra bags if he was in a good mood, but not a massive pile of trash.

My tenants ignored me.

Upon the final walk through, they were already running 1.5 hours late trying to get things out of the house. When I saw the mounds of trash on the side walk, I told them there was less than a 10% chance all of their trash would be picked up the next day. I told them to take some trash with them. They refused.

I told them to come back later that evening to get rid of at least some of the extra trash. Leaving so much trash out is a target for human scavengers and raccoons.

They refused. Why? Because I made the cardinal mistake of giving back their deposit. I took 9% off of the $17,000 on top of the $800 deducted for the yard work. Lesson learned: Landlords, wait several days before returning the deposit! You have the power.

Five extra bags of trash and overflowing bins will not all be picked up by the trash man. But my tenants couldn’t give a f*ck.

They added even more trash on the sidewalk the night before. I told them there was no way the trash would be picked up.

So guess what happened the very next morning when I came by to meet my floor refinishing guy and some prospective realtors?

Nothing! All the trash was still there and exploding on the sidewalk. I got another text message from my neighbor with this picture:

I couldn’t believe it. I texted the tenants angrily to get their asses over there to pick up the trash. And in the meantime, because I was so embarrassed with people coming over, I picked up the trash around the trash can.

Of course they didn’t come over. They apologized, and called 1-800-JUNK to pick everything up 2.5 hours after I shot them the picture.

All I Could Do Was Laugh

The way I get through stressful landlord moments is by reminding myself that everything is fixable with time and money. Then I remind myself I have a nice big deposit. If I didn’t cut them their deposit before the trash explosion, I would have felt less stressed. Lesson learned.

All I could do was laugh at the situation. I texted the picture to the realtors before they came and jokingly asked, “will this show well?”

I can unequivocally say this has been my worst landlord experience over the past 12 years. But I’m stronger for this experience. I will do my best never to rent to 4 or 5 guys anymore. Further, I absolutely will not buy another physical property for rental income. Every time I have an itch to buy physical real estate, I will refer back to this post to keep myself in check.

I’m all about simplicity now. Two rental properties plus a vacation property is the maximum I can handle. All new money that I originally planned to use for physical real estate will now go towards buying municipal bonds, REITs and real estate crowdfunded projects outside of San Francisco. A 4% – 12% potential annual gain with no tenants to deal with is good enough for me!

I’m too old for being a hands on landlord anymore. Before I retired in 2012, I thought real estate would pay for my living expenses happily ever after. Thank goodness for online income instead. I’m at the point where I’d rather just keep my house empty like a shady foreigner trying to park illicit money and forgo any rental income. I may even want to sell the rental house, but the 5% commission (~$130,000+) plus $20,000 in transfer taxes keeps me holding tight.

Any landlords out there have horrendous experiences they’d like to share? I need to hear them so I can feel better about myself! 

from http://www.financialsamurai.com/being-a-landlord-tests-my-faith-in-humanity/