#my calculations this year assume i am not taking black friday off. if i do i will recalculate

[quaranmine]

i just went to bed, then 15 minutes later got out of bed and turned the lights on, grabbed a pencil and sticky note, and began frantically calculating my total possible annual leave between now and December 2025. Again.

just in case anyone is wondering just how meticulous and obsessive i am over future travel and time off

[granddaughterogg]

What’s death’s reaction to his s/o referring to him as their husband? Like maybe they go out somewhere and s/o has to introduce death to a friend they ran into in public and the first thing that comes to mind while they’re all frazzled is “Oh! This is my /husband/!”

It was Friday afternoon - the worst possible time for a grocery haul.

You've tried to communicate this to your Nephilim a few times before, but the message bounced off them. The Horsemen were perceptive people, but they've spent most of their lives under very different stars (or sometimes under no stars at all.) Never before had they to fit their undertakings within a 24-hour timetable. The intricate ways in which human society works were also all but lost on them. Repeated explanations that certain stuff has to be done at certain hours probably hacked a few good years off your lifespan.

 Maybe one day they'll finally learn, you thought, slowly and tenderly losing your shit. Until then - your shared home life was a path full of organizational hiccups. Chaos often took over.

Anyway, you lived with four oversized individuals who didn't really have to eat, but they sure enjoyed it - and three of them consumed heaps. This week it just so happened that Strife went MIA (as he often would), Fury was having a Hair Maintenance Day and War really needed some bonding time with his steed. Or something.

Thankfully Death remained the reliable one. He grabbed you, summoned Despair from his pocket dimension (Death really wasn't the man for cars) and off to the supermarket you two went.

What you faced was a typical Friday after hours stampede. Tired, frustrated consumers teemed the aisles, filling their enormous shopping carts, crashing their carts into other people's backsides and running them over other people's feet. The air was stuffy, filled with maniacally upbeat music and high-pitched wailing of children. 

It was sheer hell.

"Let's make this quick", you pleaded into your companion's ashy ear. "I don't know how long I can take it. Can we split the shopping list? I'll grab the groceries, you go get all the cleaning stuff and we'll meet here, okay, love?"

Death nodded, straightened himself to his whole impressive height and stalked away. You watched his wide frame part the sea of busy heads. No matter how thick the crowd, people always seemed to just naturally skip out of Death's way. A sensible instinct. Many heads have turned, the expression on their faces something between dumbfoundedness and awe. You've heard quite a few stifled "Damn!"s.

You reached for packaged rice, smirking. Your man was seven and a half feet tall, his skin the shade of bone, and no, he wasn't wearing a shirt.

You managed to persuade him to leave all his jangly ironmongery at home. That's enough Fitting In for one trip.

Death's dark head finally disappeared behind the shelves and your thoughts refocused on filling the cart. You were picking up some broccoli in the produce aisle when a high-pitched voice uttered your name.

You jumped.

"No way!!!" Something big and bright filled your field of vision. You picked up the dropped broccoli, blinked a few times, and the yellow shape refocused into a head of hair - a shiny lob dyed sunny blonde. Not one hair stuck out of place.

"It really is you!!!" squealed the head in glee. It belonged to a rather attractive woman in big rectangular sunglasses, her lips very finely painted fuchsia pink. She always looked like those ladies portrayed in the so-called ladies' magazines. Thin and poreless, exuding easy confidence that comes from not being broke even once in her whole life.

"Hi, Julianne", you groaned. There was no escaping it now.

"Honey!!! So glad to see you!!" professed the woman, eyeing you shrewdly from head to toe. She probably calculated the price of your whole outfit in her head right now - and the contents of your cart while she was at it. Drawing conclusions. Always have been good with maths. Fucking Julianne.

"I wrote to you on Facebook so many times!!" Multiple exclamation points have been her thing; apparently, this hasn't changed since high school. "Why did you never answer, silly? We had so much fun during our class reunion..."

"Uh, I bet", you murmured. You wouldn't step back within your old school walls even if they paid you. "Sorry for going no contact. I've had a lot on my plate recently, you know -"

"Like what?" the woman tilted her shapely head, her attitude playful, but also slightly accusatory.

It made you angry. 

Remember the Apocalypse, Julianne? Remember when you slipped into non-existence among most of the human race? I bet you don't. I bet you decided to forget this ever happened. Like so many others did. Well, I didn't die, so I can't forget. Someone saved me and I got to traverse many different realms side by side with a Horseman of the fucking Apocalypse. And then he gave his life away, and later got brought back to life by his brother, who is also a Horseman - and we've been living together ever since...

Of course, you didn't say any of that out loud. You stood there, fondling the lush green broccoli in your hands. What even was the point?

"Oh, you know. I got into a relationship..." 

"You did?"

You looked her dead in the eye - blue and suddenly wide under the swanky shades - and could tell that this was a direct hit.

"Well, yeah." You smiled at Julianne. "Those things happen, you know."

"Sure, sure!! But frankly, out of all of us, I'd never suspect you to settle with a man and all..." 

"Excuse me?"

Julianne held at a strand of her perfect, shiny hair and then let go. "You were always quite the feminist after all..."

"What does this have to do with - " you blurted out and stopped mid-sentence because Death emerged from behind the shelves. His arms were full of various cleaning stuff.

"I've got everything from the list", he said. "I've also got at least partially deaf. Are we done here?"

A wide smile upturned the corners of your mouth - this time a genuine one because Julianne looked like a startled fish. She stared at you, then at the ashy, muscular, hulking giant at your side, then back at your beaming face.

Pettiness is the dish of the gods. 

"Death, love, meet Julianne", you said gracefully. "Julianne, this is Death. My husband."

The words slipped out of you on their own.

You tossed him a panicked, beseeching look, but your Nephilim was game. Maybe his eyebrow quivered a little; it happened so fast that Julianne would never notice. She was too busy ogling rocky abs of this man you've settled with.

"Pleased to make your acquaintance", said Death in his most velvety, bordering-on-indecent tone. Julianne just nodded back stiffly, as if submerged in a trance.

You left the supermarket soon after that.

A strange, playful little smile twirled your Horseman's lips while he loaded all the groceries into Despair's saddlebags. Thankfully those operated on the principle of magic, not physics, or the horse's spectral back would break.

"I assume that wasn't a friend." You spent all the way to the parking lot trying not to look him in the face. The words startled you.

"Hell no. She's a bitch."

"Ah." That was his whole answer. Finally, all the groceries have been stuffed into the magic pocket space. Death turned around, clasped his hands to your waist and lifted you onto the saddle. His movements bore such effortless grace. It happened so many times and you still weren't over how inhumanely strong this man is.

He sat right behind you. You clasped both hands on the saddle's horn, discreetly basking in this soothing feeling that being surrounded by Death's powerful physique gave you. 

His torso pressed into your back, his strong thighs almost touching yours. This bliss would never get old.

"You know, I can't help but wonder." Death's deep voice was like a silky needle, injected into your frayed nerves. "Why did you call me this word?"

"It...just felt right", you said, staring at Despair's pointy ears, wreathed with spectral discharge. The horse turned his humongous head as if asking: Can we go now? But your companion wasn't done yet.

"Do you wish for me to take your hand in marriage?"

You almost keeled over.

"Damn, D! Well...I...I don't want to force any more human stuff on you, you know?"

He leaned over; long, black strands of hair grazed your mouth. Death looked you in the face. You'd rather he didn't.

"Do you or do you not?"

"Damn, I do. I'd absolutely love to. But you have to live in this human world with me and you're constantly surrounded by alien stuff and alien customs which don't hold much meaning to you, and that would just be...another one of those things, right?" you murmured, lowering your head.

"I'm surrounded by alien stuff wherever I go", said Death softly. "I don't have a place I'd call home."

"I know! But it's hard!" you admitted. "You're always asking me what is it that I want. But marriage is one of those things that have to be desired by both people equally, or it means nothing..."

You suddenly felt very small and rather sad.

"I don't want you to get entangled in something that you have no use for", you whispered, pinning your eyes to the worn-off leather of the saddle. "Not just for me."

Death didn't answer for a good while. Then his big hand covered yours and squeezed it slightly.

Before you've met him, you always imagined that Death's touch must be freezing cold. That was not true.

"I understand", he said, "and I am grateful for your candour."

He nudged the horse and off you went, both unusually quiet.

[luthien-t]

Resurfaced Memories. Chapter four.

Loki X Female reader

summary: You finally talk to Loki, giving him one chance to explain himself.

1.4+K

A/N: so sorry for the late update, a lot has been going on and with classes starting soon i’ve been busy organising my schedule, also please forgive for any grammar or spelling mistakes -english is not my first language- HAPPY READING!!

-

The sound of the shops door opening immediately after flipping the ‘open’ sign caught you off guard. Turning your body towards the door, and there he was, Loki. He was wearing casual? Not the same suit as yesterday, rather a simple black shirt and jeans, he had a plain dark jacket worn over his shirt and an umbrella in his hand since it was raining all day. 

“You’re an hour early” You say with a small smile on your lips, you figured since you’ve agreed on this meet up? -Or maybe a date?- You might as well be nice to him.

 Linda was encouraging this and was more excited than you are about this. “This will all eventually make sense, besides, he is very helpful with the Avengers. Maybe he’ll come by every Thursday to bring you flowers” She even said. She was acting like the mother who couldn’t wait to see her daughters find true love or finally leave to college. “No one should go through this world alone, y/n. He’s immortal, he’s not going to die before you like you fear” Right in the heart, directed at your insecurity and worry. 

“I had no plans today so I thought I would arrive early.” He had a playful smirk as he walked towards one of the tables and chairs, taking a seat. “Would you like some tea? We have green, black, white and other herbal mixed teas.” You say as you hold onto your cup. “I’ll have what you are drinking” He said, removing his jacket. Well he’s getting comfortable, this is going to be a long day, you thought to yourself. You were thankful that it was a Friday, everyone was too busy with the last working day of the week to bother coming early for tea or flowers, besides, Linda told you to lay off today and just spend the day with Loki, she even wanted you to leave the shop but you refused. 

“So, Sigyn? Huh.” You say, setting the cup in front of him and sitting down the opposite side of the table. Feeling the awkward silence growing from the moment you started making him tea, sure you only agreed on this to get him off your back but this silence was bothering you even more. 

He lets out a chuckle and looks down at his cup of tea, mumbling a thank you to you before answering your question. “Well, you do look like her, so I just assumed- Ah, Forgive me for that interaction, I didn’t mean to startle you yesterday” You smiled at his apology and shrugged, something was itching in the back of your mind, like you needed to know more about her. 

“So…What happened?” He gave you a puzzled look this time, “I mean like, with you two?” This time he smiled weakly and took a sip from his cup. “We were happy, or at least I thought we were. Then one day she decided to disown Odin and left without a word.” His facial expression was slowly going stoic, like he was masking his emotions about this subject. Nodding lightly at his words, you look out the window. “Lets not talk about her, she must’ve had her own reasons to leave Asgard.” He said, his eyes following yours to the window. “I also don’t want to talk about something that makes you uncomfortable. I would like to know you as y/n, not Sigyn.” You smiled gently and then turned your head towards him. 

Conversations and subjects about everything sparked between you both, talking about the past and maybe the future, you even talked about the books you’ve been reading, shocked that he knows none. Somehow the conversations shifted to the realms and the creatures that exist out there, you were absorbing every single word he was saying about it, about the realms, the gods and the wars, they were different from the books you read.

“Okay wait, wait,” You say mid-laugh at something he said about Odin and how he is similar to the dictators that control this world. He gave out a pleasant hum with a soft smile on his face, indicating that he is listening to you. “How is it that you are a mother to an eight-legged horse?” Your arms tucked under your chin, interested in hearing the infamous story of Sleipnir from Loki himself. His face dropped, brows furrowed and mouth agape slightly. “I beg your pardon?!” His question earned a laugh from you, his face softening at the sound of it, but he was still trying to harden his face. “Sleipnir? You? Come on, it is one of the most famous stories in Norse history!” You defend yourself, noticing the offended look on his face, although it was playful. “You midgardians carry ridiculous stories about us, I am not a mother to an eight-legged horse.” He grumbled and took a sip from his -now cold- tea. You giggled at his reaction and shrugged. 

What was supposed to be an hour conversation was now pulled to a full day, you have spent the entire day with Loki, you can’t help how everything felt familiar with him. You started to question yesterdays interaction and if maybe it is not a coincidence. Although it sounds crazy, to be who he assumed you were, but you’ve lived for 75 years without a single wrinkle and your strength still holding you like you’re 25. Looking up at Loki, he was supposed to leave and head back to the tower, a question was creeping up slowly in your head, it could be the missing puzzle to all of this.

“Today was lovely, y/n.” He said, wearing his jacket and setting a bill on the table, you tried to protest with him that the tea was on you but he refused, like a gentleman. “Hey Loki,” You start, your heart beating faster, growing nervous at the question you are about to ask, his eyes were now on you, waiting. 

“How long has it been?” You busy your hands with putting the money in the register to hide your hands from shaking. “Since, uhm, Sigyn left?” You look up at him this time and his face was blank, staring at you, calculating what he should say next. 

“75 years, 3 months and 6 days.” He simply said and you hold your breath, your eyes roaming his face, unsure what to do with this information. You nod and then look away. “Oh, wow, okay. That is a lot.” You mumble before walking to the door before him and he follows, opening the door you watch him. 

“Will I see you tomorrow?” He looks down at you as he asks, too close to you and you look at his chest, still processing the words he said to your question but you nod. “That would be nice” You whisper before looking up at him, a smile was creeping up on his face and you have no choice but to mimic his expression, considering how contagious it is. He slowly leaned down and grabbed one of your hands in his, you were frozen in your spot, unsure what to do next. He pulled your hand up to his lip, planting a small kiss on your knuckles before stepping back. “It was lovely meeting you, y/n. Although it was under confusing circumstances, it was still lovely” He whispered to you before taking a step out of the shop and you just watch him, speechless. 

You watched him, the moment he was out of sigh you groaned and let out a long loud sigh. You grab the calendar that was hanging from the wall and started counting, it has been 75 years, yes, but with the more days you add you realise that it has been exactly 75 years, 3 months and 6 days. Your heart start to beat faster. 

Is it really possible?

Back in Asgard,

“Your Highness.” Heimdall stepped into the throne room, Odin sat on his Throne, his staff in his hand. Heimdalls voice grabbed his attention and he turns his head towards him. 

“You ordered me to alert you on this matter if it ever happens.” Heimdall starts. Odin tilting his head slightly, an eyebrow raised with amusement. He knows what matter Heimdall is talking about, it is the only matter that would allow him to leave the Bifrost. 

“Has it happened?” Heimdall can only nod and Odin lets out a small chuckle. “And does she remember?” This time he shook his head, earning a nod from Odin. “Order them to return, I need to have a few words with my sons.”

Taglist: @jessiejunebug , @hellethil , 

[anothertimdrakestan]

Set In Stone - Date Tim

If this is the first of this series you’re seeing click HERE

I put a read more so these don’t eat up my entire blog! Enjoy <3

Tim seemed like the choice you’d been wanting to pick since you came to Gotham with Dick that first day. So it only seemed fair that he get the first date. Calling and cancelling on Bart was the worst part of your Wednesday, you assumed you should give him at least 48 hours warning.

“Hey Bart, you busy right now?” your hands were a little shaky, but you knew he’d understand. 

“Nope! Wassup hot stuff?” his light hearted voice made your stomach drop, you didn’t want to hurt him, plus maybe if your date with Tim went poorly you could raincheck with Bart.

“I have to cancel our Friday date. I’ve got plans” you bit your lip waiting for his response.

“Tim’s a lucky guy huh” you choked on the air as Bart continued “it doesn’t take a genius. I noticed Tim swooning and just assumed you’d said yes to him too, I didn’t realize it was an either or kinda situation though. It’s fine. I’ll get over it. Have a good date, tell Tim to treat you right. Bye” and the once talkative, vibrant boy had hung up with you - his voice was dull like he was trying to hide how hurt he was. But he was right that he’d get over it, you were all teenagers and as far as he knew, nothing was set in stone. 

Tim had told you not to dress too fancy, that the date he had planned was casual and it sounded wonderful already. Smoothing the fabric of your favorite outfit you sat on your bed waiting for Tim to knock. Tim softly called your name and you got up, the door to your room sliding open showing Tim dressed in one of his red jackets with black pants, nothing out of the usual besides the red rose he was holding up. 

“For you! Ready?” Tim shoved the gorgeous flower into your hand, grabbing the other as he led you down to a car he had waiting. Even in the car he hadn’t let go of your hand and a blush sat constant on your cheeks, flaring up as he brushed his thumb over the back of your hand. The ride wasn’t far, you’d arrived at a fairly empty park and Tim led you over a little hill to where the cutest little picnic had been set up. There he had blankets and food ready as you sat down. “This is perfect Tim” you noticed his smile grow, “glad you like it! I figured a sunset date would be pretty fun, I calculated the best park by crossing it’s view of the sunset with it’s cleanliness then ranked them out, so I can promise you that this is the best part in the city!” 

“Why am I not surprised” you shook your head with a grin as the sun had began to lower towards the horizon. The date was so personable, you and Tim exchanged stories from your adventures and missions as well as diving deeper into your powers, you tried to explain what happens when someone does something that drastically changes the future and how it can be really painful. Tim listened, fascinated and in awe of the strength you held all while not trying to claw your brains out from the pain. It was heartening to say the least, he was one of the first people to truly understand and thank you for enduring years of pain to secure the safety of the world multiple times over. He was too kind. 

The date ended when the sun was completely set, you and Tim had laid back, wrapped up in blankets as he pointed out different constellations and you tried to remember each of their names. Tim took you back to the tower, walking you all the way up to your room even though it was on a different floor than his. After exchanging a few parting words Tim took your hints and gave you a peck goodbye. As he walked away you jumped on to your bed squealing into your pillow, it was a fantastic date. 

And it wasn’t the last one either, rather the first of many. Your relationship with Tim developed and grew, dates became more frequent until you were practically sharing the same room just a couple months later. Bart didn’t take it well when you two first started officially dating. He spent a few days avoiding Tim, arguing that he broke the bro-code. But they were best friends and nothing could keep them separated for long. Plus Bart apparently got a secret girlfriend just weeks after you and Tim became official.  

She was the only thing he kept a secret. Tim first noticed something was up when Bart began coming back from missions hours later than the rest of the team, even though he was normally the literal quickest to return. The next red flag was a smudge of what looks like red lipstick on Bart’s cheek. Follow that with his newfound desire to grow succulents all over his room and Tim knew for certain something was very wrong. You and Tim had confronted Bart, who immediately tried to run out of the room. 

“Who is she” was all you said as Bart looked at you sheepishly. “Promise not to judge?” Bart looked at you and Tim with pleading eyes. “Of course B-man just tell us!” Tim looked at you and you nodded in agreement. “Okay well, I met her a little while ago and somehow we like grew closer, and I know what you might think but she’s different okay?! And -” you cut him off. “Name. Now”

“Azores Ivy” 

“oh HELL no” you said the first thought that jumped out. “Bart you’re kidding, you can’t just date a villain. Or her villainous child. It’s like super hero 101!” Tim finished your thought for you. “But she’s not like that! She’s sweet and kind and she likes me for me! You’ve gotta meet her trust me you’ll love her!” you crossed your arms, it was really your fault for being too wrapped up with Tim to realize Bart was falling head over heels for a murder, Azores was known for her toxic grip and clearly she was latched on Bart. “C’mon guys just meet her it’ll be crash! Like a best friends double date! What do ya say?” you glanced at Tim who looked lost in thought. This decision wasn’t hard, you needed to meet Azores and see how strong her grip was on Bart so you nodded. “We’ll go. One chance Bart that’s it” and Tim agreed. Bart zoomed up to you, bringing it in for a giant group hug. “Totally crash! I’ll go tell Azzy! This is gonna be great!” 

That night as Tim was running his hand through your hair the two of you talked over a plan. It was decided, go on the date with Azores’ best interest at heart, but be ready if something goes wrong. Unfortunately, your powers weren’t showing you anything, it was strange and unsettling. It meant something big had to happen that even you couldn’t get a sneak peak of. But you had Tim by your side through it all. What could possibly go wrong. Besides one of your best friends dying - but that was gonna happen one way or another. 

Double Date!

[wavesmp3]

before you jump; hansol x fem!reader dystopian au  wc. 1.9k

a/n: same world as ‘to infinity (and beyond) but this piece was meant to take place many years earlier and mainly unrelated to jihoon’s fic. this piece is just really not the best of my writing, tbh not even sure why i’m posting it but yolo ig a/n 2: the first part is the beginning of the fic but the second part is supposed to be towards the end of the piece like around the climax or maybe it is the climax

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The chords of an old song echo from the depths of his car. It's an older model, a classic, they called these kind of cars Teslas. The first of its kind. Self driving, revolutionary. You had learned all about in classes you took. But now self driving cars were only used by those determined to hang on to the past and those who felt that they belonged in it. And of course those in the lesser districts. You were none. But he was one. 

You assume his fascination with the past (despite his future being right in front of him) began when he found his grandfather's tesla in his family's old house out in the brown district. They rarely visited. But it just so happened that the one time they did, it completely changed him. 

When he picked you up for primary class the next day in the outdated car, you almost puked out of embarrassment. You only agreed to step foot in the car once he confirmed that the car had gotten a cleaning. And a deep one at that.

(You realize now that the car had to be completely clean to pass the border wall screenings. You also know now the diseases from brown that you had been so afraid of weren't deadly at all. They weren't even real)

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“It's so nice that you two could join us for dinner today,” your grandmother gushes her voice laced with a sense of formality you imagine isn't commonly held when speaking with one's own family, yet here you are, sitting across from your mother at the long cyprus table in the common dining room of the minister's quarters otherwise known as your grandparents’ home. “It's a shame your husband couldn't join us Corinthia.” 

Your mother sets down her fork and knife, wiping her mouth with a napkin before taking a slow sip of her wine. “Yes,” she answers, “it is, isn't it?” And with the look your mother gives you, you have to bite back a chuckle at her so blatant defiance of her parents, yet your grandparents continue on with their meal indifferent or blind to your mother's almost teasing smile you couldn't tell. 

The four of you continue in silence the only ambiance being the clinking of silverware and the crackling of fire. You don't mind of course. It had been so long since you were forced to join your mother to her weekly friday night dinners with her parents. And now especially, after what you saw in the yellow faction, after your fight with hansol, you don't mind the silent treatment your grandfather gives you and your mother. You'd take the almost hostile silence to his lectures and preaching any day. You have to hear your grandfather preach his bullshit about the grandeur of Callademe every morning, you could go without it tonight. You catch your mother's gaze as she makes a face at you swiftly replacing your surfacing anger with a lift to the corners of your lips. 

“So child, how are your studies?” 

And as quickly as your smile had appeared, it disappears as well. You wait a couple beats too long before responding to your grandfather that your studies have been well. And when the last syllable leaves your lips your mother seems to let go of a breath you hadn't realized she was holding. 

He hums taking a calculated sip of his wine before setting the goblet back down on the velvet table cloth. You don't have to look at him to know exactly how he stares at you. You do anyways. His grey eyes have methodical glint to them resembling the sparkle of black ice. Deadly in its own twisted way. The two of you end up engaging in a staring match of sorts. You don't dare look away first. So he does, acquiring his goblet of merlot and finishing it in one long gulp. He snaps his fingers, and a butler fills it anew. “Have they now?” 

You don't respond scared the shaking in your hands might reach the tones of your voice. 

“Dad you should see her progress statistics and teacher evaluations,” your mother begins, and you can nearly feel the laugh boiling in the back of your grandfather's throat, “she has been doing exceptionally well this term.” 

You can't help but choke on your water when your grandmother says, “Isn't that wonderful, Corin?” 

He laughs. A loud bellowing sound. That fills the entire room like it's meant to be heard. Like it's meant to entertain. But it only fills your throat with bile and your mother and grandmother with bewilderment. You can't help but start choking more when he laughs at you. 

“Oh Corinthia, I don't remember raising you to be such a fool,” he spits and you can feel the hurt that paints itself onto your mother's face, “you've become so pathetic my dear Corinthia,” he taunts again venom seeping from the cracks in his teeth, “so pathetic that your own daughter can disobey you right under your nose.” Your mother's eyes turn to you. The same cold grey eyes as your grandfather but different, glassy and glazed with betrayal. You see the knife you've impaled in her back. She bleeds and bleeds, and with the pain that takes hold in you, you assume that somehow you've impaled your own back as well. 

“Corin! What are you-” 

“Thea can't you see?” your grandfather snaps cutting your grandmother off. He harshly stands making his chair fall to the floor with a dull thud and takes a hold of his cane moving behind your mother so that you can't avoid his gaze any longer. “We have a traitor sitting right next to us.” 

He points his cane at you. 

Three pairs of eyes watch your every breath, but you aren't sure if you're still taking any. 

“Tell them child,” he howls at you, “tell them how your studies are really going.” 

You feel tears threaten to fall, you don't want to answer but with the way your grandfather fumes you fear what'll happen if you don't. 

Your voice comes out smaller than its meant to be, more feeble than you'd hoped: “I haven't be-” 

Your grandfather throws his goblet, shattering it on the space next to your head. Your shriek is drowned by him screaming, “LOUDER!” Your grandmother doesn't even flinch. 

“I haven't been going to school,” you manage to cry over your grandfather's screams. The satisfied turn of his lips makes you want to vomit. Not only for the way your grandfather treats his family, but also for how he treats his so called people. You remember your fight with hansol, and it becomes apparent how right he was. Minister Callademe is no minister, he never was; he's a monster. And only you knew just how much. He had to be stopped, and because of who you are and the power your name alone holds, it had to be you to take him down. So you wipe the wine from your cheeks, and you continue. 

“No, grandpa, I haven't been going to school,” this time your voice has purpose dare say your voice has power, “but I've been learning more about Callademe then I've ever been taught in school.” 

Your grandfather scoffs, “Corinthia, I told you to keep her from that chwe boy. Look at the treason that spills from her mouth.” 

“Not treason, grandpa; it's the truth. Because I wasn't in school, I was in the yellow faction during the fires, and I watched as people burned and died and suffered. And I watched you do nothing. I am not the one committing treason, you are” 

“I'm afraid you don't understand-” 

“No, you're afraid I do.” 

He doesn't say anything. But he breathes as if each exhale contains fire. Although with the anger traveling through your nerves, you think it might. 

You wait for a response that doesn't come. 

“What were you planning to do grandpa? Let them die in the fires? Keep the other factions from knowing? And what'll that do for you? For Callademe? You aren't a minister. You aren't leading anyone. The only thing you are is a symbol. A symbol of why people should fight, should rebel. Your own people know that you're a monster.” The heat in your face only grows. The shaking in your hands is no longer due to fear, replaced with a bitter mix of anger and hate for the man who taught you everything, for the man you once idolized and loved, for the man you want to destroy. And it's because you've spent the last couple years avoiding your grandfather's rage, you're surprised to find him quiet but with a scathing scowl imprinted on his face. You're even more surprised to find that you aren't afraid. But you know your grandfather is like a grenade, eventually, with the right hit, he'll explode. 

“Dad,” your mother mumbles, “is this true? The fires in yellow? The-” 

“LISTEN TO ME CORINTHIA!” 

(boom) 

“YOU TELL YOUR CHILD TO BEHAVE PROPERLY-” 

“Corin,” your grandmother stands up, unaffected by the commotion, shutting up your grandfather with one word, “you should learn to keep your temper. The house keepers might hear.” 

You've known your grandmother to be the ideal picture of what a woman should be. You never knew if that was because she believed it or because she was taught to be so. But now, as she walks toward you with a manner perhaps more frightening than your grandfather himself, you think she's had you fooled all these years. Her face remains indifferent, but her eyes, which you knew to be kind and comforting, hold the brightest shade of venom. 

“Child,” she begins taking hold of your shoulder, digging her nails beyond the fabric of your blouse, “have you no sense? The fires were but a mere inconvenience. The yellow faction itself is no more than an inconvenience to our agenda. There will be no uprising. There will be no rebellion. The other factions will never be capable of such feats; they lack the means to do so. Do you think that because you and the chwe boy have seen the other factions, you understand Callademe? Do you think because you saw the yellow fires, you understand their oppression when you grew up in privilege? You don't know anything about Callademe, you are only a child. What makes you think that you and that chwe boy could lead a rebellion when you are the very thing they're rebelling against, when you carry the name they resent the most?” She pauses with a pitiful shake to her head, “You won't be doing anything in opposition to Callademe because you are one. You carry this name. It's time you acted like it.” 

“I'd rather live in brown, then be a Callademe.” You spit back at your grandmother. She doesn't move, keeping her painful grip on your shoulder as if waiting for you to take it back, as if waiting for you to repent. 

You don't.

“Well then,” she turns towards your grandfather, “Corin, you know what to do.” 

He nods, and you can see the panic settle into your mother's brows. She starts to beg and plead for them to stop; they ignore her. 

Your grandfather calls in two CouncilMen, and your mother's begging grows. 

He tells them to take you away. They ask where. 

Your grandfather gives you one last glare. “The chambers.” 

*********************

[ilovemygaydad]

part 5/? of punk!patton gets adopted by single parent logan

part one - part two - part three - part four - ao3 version - masterlist (includes asks and art!)

pairings: moxiety, eventual logince, background pining remceit, mentions of past thomas/female oc

warnings--these are very important this chapter: food mentions, stress, anxiety, kissing, flirting, divorce mentions, making out, mentions of murder (i’ll mark it out), attempted murder, guns, gunshots, gun wounds, head trauma, homophobic parents mention, homophobia, there’s so much swearing i am so sorry, maybe something else

a/n: no joke i’ve had this planned out since before the last part came out, but i literally just couldn’t write it all at once, and i’ve been having a really emotionally weird week. next chapter should start out pretty funny. idk. please enjoy this.

a/n 2: sorry that this took so long to get out. i don’t think it’s that great, but... yeah. whatever.

it’s friday night babey which means that it’s dinner time with the sanders, and logan and patton are freaking out

logan has been cooking/prepping food for the past day, and he immediately started finishing up as soon as he got home from work

patton, on the other hand, was feverishly cleaning the entire house 

it isn’t even messy, but he’s worried that virgil and/or roman are going to be upset

(which they aren’t????? but whatever)

and patton even cleaned himself up! he tried (and failed) to tame his wild curls into some sort of neat anything, and he wore his nicest pair of black jeans and a black sweater with floral designs that he’d bought at the mall with virgil a while back

it was a little out of his comfort zone, but virgil insisted that he get it because it looks very good on him

and, god damn it, you can’t say no to virgil’s puppy eyes

the doorbell rang just before five, and logan ran out of the kitchen to get it

patton literally vaulted over the couch, skidding to the door just behind logan

virgil is like

literally the cutest person on the planet

he’s wearing a white lace dress that has a flowy skirt, and he’s got a white flower crown on, and he looks like an angel

during the time that patton’s being a gay disaster, virgil holds out a bouquet of blue flowers and says, “dad made me get them for you”

patton smiles gently and takes them, pulling virgil in for a quick kiss before leading him inside

roman has, like, eight giant tupperware containers full of cookies and brownies and stuff in his arms, and logan’s like

what???? the fuck?????

“you didn’t need to bring desserts, roman. i have ice cream...”

and roman gives this cocky smile and says “my best friend, emi, loves to bake for us, but he doesn’t really know how to limit himself, so we have tons of baked goods lying around that we can’t eat. not to mention that i can’t keep up this fabulous figure if i only eat sweets!” wink wonk

and logan can feel his face heating up after that wink, but he pretends that it’s just the heat from inside

roman really does have a good figure...

logan chooses to not respond to roman, instead saying, “let’s go inside so you can put those containers down”

they turn to go, and they catch a glimpse of patton and virgil from down the hall

the kids are sitting on the couch, laughing and talking and exchanging the occasional kiss

the adults watch for a second because aw, but quickly move on to the kitchen

“you can set the containers down on the counter over there. i made a a couple of different things for dinner just in case you two didn’t like something that i made, so there’s spaghetti, pizza, and hamburgers. everything is absolutely gluten-free; i know because i triple checked with a list online and bought new utensils to reduce contamination. you’re free to have as much or as little as you like--i won’t be offended either way.”

roman kind of freezes because holy shit that’s so thoughtful and kind

“that’s... logan, that’s too much. you didn’t have to do all that for virgil.”

“what are you talking about? it’s only common courtesy to assure that your guest is able to eat without getting sick, especially when they have a disease that can cause irreparable damage to their body.”

“yeah, but a lot of people don’t care enough to ask or remember, so virgil often has to find something else to eat last minute... i brought an extra dinner just in case, which is very unfair to your person, but virgil has suffered too much for me to not be careful.”

“that’s...” logan starts, trying to express what he feels. “that’s just shitty.”

roman smiles and laughs a bit, replying, “yeah, it is, but at least you aren’t, you know, shitty”

and they have this little moment where they smile at each other, and both of them are like wow this man is... good looking but they snap out of it because

dumb gays

everyone in this au is a dumb gay

including yours truly but that is noT important

logan’s like “hey we should get the kids for dinner” and roman obvi agrees

but when they go to get them, they see the kiddos being all adorable and gay and logan turns to roman with this very serious expression like

we must spy on them. this is the cutest shit i’ve ever seen.

so they shuffle over to the edge of the doorway, just out of sight, and logan peeks his head in every now and then for visuals, and he’s repeating what he hears so that roman can understand what’s happening

logan’s in the middle of telling roman something when

dun dun dunnnn

a voice suddenly appears from behind them like

(the voice is virgil)

“what... are you two doing...?”

fucking busted

logan is like

aHa i can lie to these children!

and he says, “we were talking about work--”

but patton just cuts him off with this deadpan look and “you two are horrible liars”

cut to: roman gasping in offense that this emo nightmare of a child just called him a liar when he didn’t even say anything

so he says, “i didn’t even say anything”

patton, being... well, being the asshole that he is, says, “my point still stands”

roman splutters for a while longer, trying to look at virgil and logan for help, but virgil just shrugs and walks with patton to the table, and logan is still very embarrassed about getting caught

it takes a few seconds, but both adults recuperate and move on to what’s important

which is, obviously, dinner

logan walks virgil through what’s available and offers to cook something else if he isn’t feeling particularly happy with anything

virgil damn near cries at how nice logan is

dinner gets served, and they all start eating the (delicious--who would guess that calculator watch knew how to cook something that tasted like it was served in a fancy restaurant) food

after a few minutes of idle chatter and slight pda between the kids, logan offhandedly comments, “you know, i am extremely happy for the both of you that you didn’t cycle through numerous girlfriends before finding out that you’re queer like many of us do.”

and everyone at the table freezes because

logan’s gay????

“hold up,” roman says with a shocked expression. “you’re gay?”

and virgil sighs and shakes his head because “dad, you’re an idiot. he literally has a pride phone case, and there are multiple pictures of him at pride around the house--including one right behind you.”

he also elbows patton when the punk mutters out a very soft “what the fuck”

“i applaud your observational skills--”

“i assume neither of you knew that he was jewish, either”

and now it’s logan’s turn to be surprised because... who the hell is this kid

“you have a dreidel on the mantle that i assumed you forgot to put away after Hanukkah last year.” everyone stared at him. “oh, i’m sorry that i’m not as much of a dumb gay as my father.”

cue roman getting offended again

“excuse you! the role of ‘dumb gay’ is exclusively reserved for thomas f. sanders!”

poor patton hasn’t stopped being confused this whole time, but roman luckily jumps right back into his explanation

“my twin brother, thomas, didn’t realize that he was gay until he had been with a woman for six years and had a child with her. they amicably parted ways because, like him, she was also gay. i am not nearly as stupid as my brother, and i take great offense to virgil calling me a ‘dumb gay!’” he said matter-of-factly

virgil opens his mouth to say something, but roman cuts him off with a swift “if you so much as think about saying what you’re going to say, i will throw you into the ocean without a moment’s hesitation.” roman then very calmly turns to patton and says sweetly, “so, only good child at this table, tell me a bit about yourself so that i know what my devil child is getting himself into.”

unbeknownst to roman, virgil mutters “dumb gay,” under his breath, causing logan to crack a smile across the table

patton shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “my birthday is february nineteenth, my favorite color is blue, and i’m homoromantic asexual.”

roman waited for patton to say more, but the teen averted his gaze back on his food and took another bite

logan decided to pick up the slack after the few seconds of awkward silence “what about you, virgil?”

unlike patton’s less than enthusiastic reply, virgil perked up at the chance to speak

“oh, well, my birthday is june second, and i really like purple! i’m pretty sure that i’m pan, but i have a preference for guys. oooh! and i really want to be an elementary school teacher.”

that made logan perk up. “really? i currently teach first graders across town.”

“no way!” virgil gasped. “that’s awesome! i love little kids so much. they’ve got so much energy.”

“and their intelligence is unrivaled!”

“yes!”

roman and patton watched as the two excitedly conversed about kids and teaching

patton admired virgil’s enthusiasm, and was happy that he was getting along with logan.

and virgil looked really cute with his happy smile and the little glimmer in his eyes

patton may or may not have zoned out in favor of staring at his beautiful boyfriend

roman couldn’t really tell what logan and virgil were talking about (they were speaking far too quickly for him to follow), but he admired how excited logan looked when he was speaking

oh no

roman was falling for logan

time to not follow his own advice and pretend that his feelings don’t exist

after another half hour or so of chatting, the adults and kids split ways for a while

patton and virgil went up to patton’s room, and logan and roman stayed in the living room

the boys settled together at the end of patton’s bed, holding hands and leaning on each other

“you look paw-sitively purrfect, virgil” patton giggled

“is... are you saying that because i have cat-eye eyeliner on?”

“...maybe”

virgil smiled and pulled patton in for a kiss

they kissed for a little, but patton eventually pulled away

he looked worried, and he fidgeted with his hands as he said, “do you think that your dad likes me?”

“well...” virgil started. “he didn’t like you for a long time. after the first day of school, he kind of held a grudge on you.” patton winced, but he didn’t get the opportunity to say anything. “i think he’s forgiven you now.”

“really?”

“i promise. he just wanted to protect me because he’s my dad, but i think he’s realized that you’re not actively trying to hurt me, and you’re just a bit dumb at times”

“hEY”

virgil smiled and nudged patton “you know i love you”

“hnnnnnn i love you too”

“heLL YEAH!”

meaNwhiLE downstairs

logan led roman into the the living room and roman was

stunned

because logan had at least a thousand books meticulously organized around the room

“how many books do you have in here...?” roman asked, running his hand over an entire collection of encyclopedias 

“about one thousand two hundred on the shelves, but i have some children’s books in those baskets at the bottom as well as the books that are starting to fall apart like my copy of hamlet”

“how did you even get so many books? i’ve been collecting novels my whole life, and i only have a few bookshelves full”

“my mom is a librarian, and whenever they would get newer copies of books or get rid of unwanted books, she’d give them to me. i’ve bought a fair few of these myself, but there are only so many that i can buy on a teacher’s salary”

and roman’s like

????? hot

and logan keeps rambling on about books, and roman’s just having a gay crisis but it’s fine 

but then logan looks at roman expectantly, and roman hadn’t exactly been paying enough attention to read logan’s lips, so he played the “can you repeat yourself? i didn’t catch it” card

“sorry. i asked how you came to adopt virgil”

and roman obviously is like hey how about we spill a lot of sad life things with this almost stranger because he’s cute

~this is where the murder is mentioned~

“his mom was my best friend in high school. although we went our separate ways for college, she stayed supportive of me after i came out. she was... the only one from my old life who would even think to talk to me. even thomas hesitated to talk to me for fear of crossing our parents and their ridiculously catholic ideas.” roman sighed. “eventually, though, she got mixed up in some bad stuff, and she got with this drug addict who got her pregnant with virgil. when virgil was about a year old, the guy thought that my friend was cheating on him, and he shot her. the shot, luckily, didn’t kill her right away, and she was able to push him into the corner of a table and kill him before he could get to virgil. she called the police, but she died before they could get there. as soon as i found out, I went and started the adoption process. i had only been a year out of college at that point.”

~end of the murder mention~

logan was stunned. “that is... horrible, roman. i am so sorry for your loss.”

“it’s alright,” roman said with a shrug. “it was over a decade ago, and it led to me getting the best thing in my life. the circumstances were shit, but virgil has made me a better person, and i wouldn’t know what i’d do without him keeping my head on gay.”

“you mean straight...?”

“nothing about me is straight, logan. don’t be absurd”

eventually, it’s time for roman and virgil to leave

virgil and patton walk out to the car and leave the adults at the door because they wanna kiss each other goodbye without being spied on

on their way to the car, virgil whispers “how much do you want to bet that they’ll be flirting with each other by the time we leave”

“ten dollars. i mean, didn’t you see how your dad looked at logan? it was gross!”

meanwhile, at the door...

roman leans back on the doorframe and smiles. “this was a nice night, logan. virgil definitely had a lot of fun”

“that’s great; i’m glad”

“here--give me your phone. i’ll put my number in, and we can get together some other time to get to know each other better”

logan obliged, and roman sent himself a text using logan’s phone and set his contact name as “prince of your dreams”

they chatted for a minute or so longer, just to give the boys enough time to say their goodbyes, before parting ways

logan didn’t spend the rest of the night texting roman

don’t be ridiculous

to be continued

asks are loved and encouraged, and make sure to check out the amazing art people have made on the masterlist! 💖💖💖

tag list: @residentanchor @eeveeawesome @xionical@absolutesandersidestrash @stormcrawler75 @musikasworld @ironwoman359@a-weirdo-with-a-computer @thegaypotatoroyalty707 @darkrainbow333@ravenclawunicorn1 @noahlovescoffee @whymustibedraggedintofandomhell@romansleftshoulderpad @still-waiting-for-cookies @emounicorn2006 @lana–22 @angels-ofthe-sea @demonickittykat @lonelysoul43 @the-virgil-mary @five-second-cookies @noisywolfbatbakery @band-be-boss-blog @heck-im-lost@lamp-calm-sanders @patton-e @knightofbloodcancer @cloudchaser7@really-sleep-deprived-nerd @era-eclipsed @khadij-al-kubra @anxiousmorality@are-you-really-sure-about-that @today-only-happens-once@notalwaysthevillian @backatthebein @sunshineandteddybears @ultimate-queen-of-fandoms2 @emo-sanders-sides-loving-unicorn @dodos-in-damnation@some-lost-meme-boi @dead4sevenyears @spookyingarbageisland @the-poison-apple-of-art@radioactivehelena @the-melody-of-eliza @im-a-mess-aaaaaa @whycantihavemorethan32characters @broadwaytheanimatedseries@veryvirginvirgil @llamaavocado @unisaurioamorfo @caterpiller-tea@cornycornfriendo @simon-at-3am @calico-kiri

[hiirunakaarchive]

— to act in haste

↳ wisely and slowly; they stumble that run fast. (pt 2), (pt 3), (pt 4)

◇ pairing: ethan ramsey x mc

◇ genre: angst

◇ word count: around 6000 ?? sorry lol

◇ warnings: mild-ish ??/ nsfw

◇ author’s note: hey everyone! i know today’s strictly for nightbound and acor’s comeback, but i was so excited to get back into writing since the last fic i actually finished was 3 years ago. sorry if i couldn’t wait till friday, but please give this some love, it took me two weeks to write 🤡🤙🏼 i uhh,, recommend reading this on a laptop since the phone format is wonky but happy reading! might post a second part if people actually end up liking it, so feedback is greatly appreciated !!!

prologue 

Ethan Ramsey was a enigma.

For one, he never took cliche sayings to heart, and the one he found the most laughable was his own mentor’s advice.

“Ethan,” Dr. Banerji warned.

“That contemptuous smirk will one day be your own undoing.”

“I’m sorry,” the younger doctor replied, one corner of his mouth still twitching from amusement.

“I knew you were a sap, but at the very least, give me romantic advice that came from your own vocabulary.”

“Then I won’t be able to dumb it down enough for it to click in that thick skull of yours.” Banerji retorted, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he teased his junior.

Ethan threw his head back and laughed.

Appreciate what you have while it’s still there, Ethan. You never know when it might disappear.

Dr. Ethan Ramsey was a man of calculation and precision. He never believed in the concept of taking risks because acting without the basis of foretold outcomes was a dangerous and unworthy game to play; his ultimate philosophy.

He was resented for his misunderstood arrogance, but it stemmed from reasonable logic.

“You can’t afford to be scared.” He glared at the new batch of interns, his voice dripping with gravity.

“Cowardice clouds your judgement, and clouded judgement puts the life that your patient entrusted to you at risk. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, Dr. Ramsey.” Came a chorus of replies.

Edenbrook’s newest doctors returned his icy gaze with their own, gleaming with vigor and determination. For a split second, Ethan felt a sense of fondness for them despite his own principle of not picking favourites, for they reminded him of himself in his first few years of practice.

In the crowd of adults, however, one woman stood out.

The way her face contorted after Dr. Ramsey spoke suggested that she took his words way more seriously than he intended for her to. She wasn’t fiddling with her badge out of nerves, or socializing with her colleagues out of excitement. She kept her eyes on him from start to finish, and he almost found it difficult to ignore.

Scanning the audience once more before sending them away, his eyes landed on her again, meeting her gaze briefly before Ethan found himself looking away first.

He didn’t realize it yet, but in a single moment, those eyes stole everything from him.

thursday, februrary 15, 2018

“Haruna Sakurai,” I read her name aloud in my office, scrutinizing her letter.

Transferred from University of Tokyo to Oxford with a Bachelor’s in Neuroscience, graduated at the top of her class in 2017, and dabbles with robotics as a pastime.

“Her pedigree is outstanding,” Harper stared at the bundle of paper, flipping through the pages with narrowed eyes.

“Sayuri Aoyama and Ryoichi Sakurai...Ethan, do you know who these people are? They-”

“Each won a Nobel Prize for discoveries in cancer treatment and immunology.” Dr. Banerji interjected, struggling to contain a smile as Harper passed the application to him, examining it himself.

“Met at the awarding ceremony, fell in love, and, together, have contributed impeccable research in the name of medicine. Arguably the most respected couple since the Okazaki’s and their discovery in regards to DNA replication.”

“Naveen…” I said, my poker face never faltering.

“How… like you, to be caught up on the gossip. The Kardashians weren’t doing the job?”

“Oh, be quiet.” The mentor chuckled as he continued to scan the application.

“I’ve met the Sakurai’s at a conference in ‘88 just before their child was born. Besides, don’t talk to me about the Kardashians when you named your dog Jenner.” Naveen placed air quotes around my pet’s name.

“I-”

“Do you know what this means?” Dr. Emery said impatiently, bringing her palms down on the table and redirecting our attention to the main topic at hand.

“To have their daughter at Edenbrook will do nothing but promote the hospital’s already sterling reputation. We have to have her.”

“I agree.” I sighed, pushing myself away from my desk and folding my arms over my chest.

“Ethan?” Dr. Banerji raised an eyebrow in suspicion.

“I never would’ve pegged you for the type.”

“The type to what?” I inquired, my tone embodying more of a demand rather than enlightenment.

“To choose someone based off lineage.”

“Excuse me? I- no. God, Naveen, never. There’s just something about this one-” I reached for the application across my desk and Naveen handed it to me eagerly, his teasing smile never leaving his face.

Flipping through the stapled copies of recommendation letters and awards of recognition, I stopped abruptly near the end, my eyes skimming over the page before opening my desk drawer and placing the application gently inside. Amongst hundreds of hopeful applicants, I pushed an alarmingly thin stack of paper towards the doctors across my desk, saying,

“These nineteen and Sakurai. Contact them and inform them of their acceptance. This one-” I tapped the wood of my drawer, referring to Haruna’s application.

“I’ll keep with me. There’s something I want to check.”

Following Banerji and Emery’s exit from my office, I opened my drawer once again and pulled out Sakurai’s application, muttering to myself in a low voice as I read the closing paragraph of her letter.

“Genealogy has already established irrefutable evidence connecting a child’s intelligence to that of their predecessors.”

“Though I certainly acknowledge my lineage as a biological factor in terms of my academic success, I refuse to accredit my own achievements as solely dependent on my pedigree.”

“Sayuri Aoyama and Ryoichi Sakurai are medical figures whom I am still light years away from perfectly emulating. However, in order to find my place in their world as even a speck of dust, I must first find myself. Rather than being addressed as Haruna Sakurai, daughter of Nobel Prize winners, to me, Haruna Sakurai, rookie doctor in the country’s number one hospital is much more gratifying.”

Reaching the end of the conclusion, I placed the corner of the first page between my thumb and index finger, bringing it back to the front. I returned the bundle of paper to the brown envelope from which it came and reached behind the back of my head to lace my fingers together.

I looked up at the ceiling, wondering audibly.

“Rookie, huh?”

wednesday, may 8, 2019

The idea of pursuing romance at my age would have sounded unfathomable to me a year ago. In fact, I was almost certain I never wanted to get into a serious relationship at all. But it isn’t until you desperately try to abide by workplace ethics despite undeniable mutual attraction and numerous instances of sexual tension that you realize you’re only human.

“I think I’m ready, Naveen.” Ethan paid a visit to his mentor’s home, sitting at his bedside as he unloaded his lovelife woes.

“I know I’m rushing headfirst into it, hell, I’m probably not even thinking straight-”

“Ethan, slow down.” Naveen reached up from his bed and rested an encouraging hand on Ramsey’s shoulder.

“I just...we’ve only known each other for a ten months but I will most probably spend the rest of my life searching in vain for someone like her. I can’t let her go, Naveen. I won’t.”

The older doctor responded with nothing but a lighthearted chuckle, his teasing nature never having left him despite being ill.

“You really ended up taking my advice to heart, didn’t you?”

Ethan couldn’t think of a better way to reply apart from raising his hands in surrender, laughing alongside him.

“Damn it, you got me.”

friday, may 17, 2019 6:15am

“Rookie.”

Strolling through the ward as I made my rounds, I recognized the familiar streaks of red and black as Haruna stormed past me, loose hair cascading down her back like dripping ink on tilted parchment. As she heard me call out to her, she immediately turned on her heel and greeted me through a plastic smile, holding her clipboard to her chest in a white-knuckled grip.

“What can I do for you, Dr. Ramsey?” She asked in a strained voice masked with professionalism.

In the midst of the bustling hallway, all interns having come from the lobby to hear who won the fellowship, mine and Haruna’s brief interaction evoked glares of suspicion and lingering, questioning gazes from the surrounding staff. Though I anticipated an overwhelmingly negative response to her achievement, I couldn’t stomach the paranoia festering in my gut.

We slept together. Repeatedly.

And no amount of constant rejection or futile attempts at fighting my impulses could undo what had already been done.

“Congratulations, and welcome to the team. I expect your contributions to fall nothing short of phenomenal.”

I crossed my arms, assuming my default nature and Haruna’s often cold and intimidatingly vacant stare softened slightly as she let out a small smile, ducking her head in acknowledgment.

“Of course, I look forward to working with you. Excuse me.”

She resumed her natural air of discipline and turned the opposite direction, beginning her rounds in confident strides as I watched her retreating form disappear as she turned the corner. Years of people-watching as a meaningless pastime and my own skills of observation as a doctor hadn’t betrayed me in the sense that I could tell Haruna was troubled. 

But then again, she was never good at hiding her emotions.

4:57pm

Several hours had already passed, it being late afternoon before I encountered Haruna again. She sauntered mindlessly in my direction, not looking up from her chart as I looked both ways in the empty hallway. She released a silent gasp of surprise as I gently caught her by the elbow and used both hands to maneuver her into the ward under construction, which we mutually agreed became our spot for private conversations.

She raised an eyebrow as I looked over her shoulder, one hand still placed on her arm.

“In a rush?” I asked her, lowering my gaze slightly to meet her eyes.

She hugged her clipboard against her chest, one corner of her mouth tilting upwards in satisfaction before replying.

“Not at all, my patients this week have been nothing apart from pleasant. Treatment and the like.”

“Ah. I see.” I broke eye contact, feeling inexplicably bashful all of a sudden.

What are you doing? I thought to myself.

You’re not here to play Yahtzee, ask her if she’s free tonight.

I let my hand that rested on her arm fall limp at my side. Looking over Haruna’s shoulder a second time under the pretense of appearing mindful of our surroundings, she cleared her throat with avoidant eyes before holding her hands behind her back, rocking lightly on her heels. A painfully awkward moment passed before she broke the silence.

“Were you hoping to steal a moment with me, Ethan?” She teased, a playful smirk hinting at her lips as I choked on my own breath and looked at her with wide eyes.

“We are in a professional setting, Haruna. I would never-“ I began before I registered the childish expression she wore, obviously amused by my reaction.

A muscle in my jaw twitched as I kept myself from smiling as well, adamant on refusing to entertain her antics.

“No, that’s exactly it. In a sense.” I conceded, and the mischief in her eyes disappeared, replaced with her usual stern visage and...was that a grimace?

“After our shift is over, I’ll meet you here and we can go back to my condo together, is that alright?” I asked her hopefully and she returned my question with nothing but a look of repulsion.

“I don’t have any ulterior motives-” I initiated my panicked explanation before she sighed in defeat at my lack of humour.

“Calm down, I’m teasing. I’ll see you later then, there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you as well.”

The mystery behind her proposition made my heart skip a beat, and my imagination dared to deviate between the actual practicality of the situation and my own lewd fantasy. Of her lips racing to move hungrily against mine as soon as I shut the door behind her upon entering my home. Of me cupping her face in my hands as I slip my tongue past her lips. Of her moaning against my mouth as my hands move from her face, to her neck, and down to her chest, roving her body and ultimately dipping into her jeans as her own fingers fumble with my tie and the buttons of my shirt-

Ethan Ramsey, you fucking animal, focus.

Haruna touched my cheek in my momentary loss of self and was unable to mask her pleasant surprise as I reached upwards and placed my hand on top of hers, turning my head slightly and pressing my lips to her palm. She looked away and bit her lip in embarrassment, releasing her fingers from my grasp and beginning to make her way back to the main ward.

“Oh, and Rookie?” I called to her before she made a complete exit.

She whipped around, her eyes beaming with anticipation as if hoping for something more.

“Be sure to pop by Mrs. Reitman’s room today. She’s getting discharged this evening and insisted upon saying goodbye to you especially.”

I smirked in satisfaction at my own success in lightly teasing her and Sakurai rolled her eyes, but the smile that formed on her lips betrayed the air of vexation which she tried to exude.

“With pleasure, Dr. Ramsey.”

7:26pm

The ride together was unsettlingly quiet.

We met at the incomplete wing as promised, but she came in slow, exhausted paces. A disturbing sight in contrast to her usual march; one of which the nurses on the unit described as similar to a catwalk. Dr. Sakurai was poised and somewhat aloof, yet her natural character brimming with charisma made her intimidating aura seem almost insignificant.  

But there was none of that today. Her confidence, which everyone thought to be a well that never ran dry, appeared almost nonexistent as she trudged towards me looking distant and oozing fatigue; not from the work, but seemingly from everything else.

“You look bothered, Rookie.” I voiced my observation as she approached me.

She didn’t greet me with her usual smile, or shoot back a snarky response.

“I’m fine. Let’s go?”

“If you’re too tired, then this can wait until another day-”

“I can manage.” She interrupted, beginning to make her way to the elevators and to the basement parking lot.

Since then, neither of us had spoken a word. Between the brief moments I found to catch a glimpse of her, Haruna faced away from me and instead, looked out the window of my car, admiring the city that came to her in bright flashing lights. With the window rolled down just enough to welcome fresh air, she leaned her elbow against the armrest and closed her eyes.

My eyes darted to her resting figure as I caught the stoplight illuminated red, and the second I intended to be fleeting became more as I found myself unable to look away.

She shifted in her hollow dormant state, and her features previously hidden from my sight came into view as she turned her head towards me.

On the empty road tainted black, I mistakenly interpreted the casual eeriness of the night as serene. Haruna’s lips parted slightly as she slept and her hair, hauntingly jet black, fell across her face in poker straight strands. In that moment beneath lamp-lit streets, she was beautiful, and frighteningly so.

“You, Haruna Sakurai, are an enigma.” I sighed, leaning my head back against the headrest as I stared vacantly at the ceiling of my car.

Admit it, you useless coward. You love her.

8:02pm

As we pulled into my residence, I handed my keys to the valet, an eccentric old man who was a little too friendly for my liking, and undeniably nosy. Yet he held feelings of sentimentality for the doctors of Edenbrook because one saved his life seven years ago. I was that doctor.

“Dr. Ramsey! When’s the last time I saw you? Come home a little more often, you workaholic!” He guffawed and landed a solid clap to my back.

“Charlie…” I grimaced.

“You are the reason I don’t come home, you rotten old prune-”

“And you brought Dr. Sakurai along too! Always a pleasure, my dear.” He flashed me a wink and Haruna masked her fatigue with a gentle smile, nodding her head at him once.

“Mr. Panelo. Likewise.”

Maneuvering our way around Charlie’s attempts at small talk, we somehow made it inside the building and into the elevator, although a little short of breath. Haruna, a born people-pleaser, usually took the time to entertain the elderly man and his efforts at setting her up with his son, but after today’s brief meet and greet, she followed me wordlessly through the doors and pressed the button to my floor.

The ascent seemed to be longer this time, or maybe it was the ongoing silence between us that made time appear to go more slowly. She stood alarmingly close to me, our shoulders slightly touching and her hand hanging out of the sleeve of her jacket, begging to be held. As I spotted her beginning to lean her head into the crook of my neck, I reached out to take her hand, but the sudden ding of the elevator made us both jump.

Despite the both of us being aware of the moment we let escape, we left it unacknowledged as the doors slid open. I allowed Haruna to exit the elevator first, and I slowed my pace to match with hers as we walked to my unit. Reaching the door, I stepped aside and softly tilted my head in the direction of the keypad.

“Hah!” Haruna couldn’t help but laugh.

“You know me too well.”

Six familiar beeps and the click of the automated door into my flat made my heart race with anticipation, and I could see that it had the same effect on Haruna. As I opened the door and gestured for her to enter first, I saw her chest rise once with a suck of her breath before she stepped inside.

Her eyes wandered every inch of the room, familiarizing herself once again with her surroundings as I closed the door behind me. The last time she was here was last month, and I’ve been craving her since.

“Jenner, baby, are you here?” She abandoned her temporary facade to coo after my dog as I slipped off my shoes and hung my coat.

Haruna whistled a low tune as she continued to call for him, walking backwards into the living room like she was afraid to miss the sight of the pup bounding towards her in excitement. She lived for moments like that.

“Jenner, my good boy, come out. Mommy’s-”

She stopped in an abrupt mid-sentence as she felt her foot slip on what I recognized as one of Jenner’s toys, letting out a yelp of surprise.

I instinctively reached out, catching her and celebrating my inner relief as I felt her weight against my arms. Wounding them further around her, I looked down only to see that she, too, was looking up at me. Expectantly, and with our faces mere inches apart.

“—Oh.” Haruna breathed, registering the situation and looking to the side in order to avoid my gaze.

I placed my fingers under her chin, gently turning her head to face me again. She didn’t try to look away a second time.

“Dr. Ramsey-” She said under her breath, her eyes darting quickly to my mouth.

“Ethan when we’re alone, remember?” I muttered, beginning to lean in. Our lips were achingly close before she brought a finger up against mine.

“Ah, ah. No ulterior motives, I believe was what you said, Dr. Ramsey?” She challenged, and I withdrew.

“Yes, I- my apologies. Take a seat. Care to dine with me?” I gestured to the sofa and she indulged as I made my way to the kitchen, albeit slightly humiliated at this first instance of rejection.

From the kitchen counter I called to her,

“Do you like your steak medium or well done?”

9:14pm

I ended up finding out that she liked her steak strictly medium well.

Ensconced in the dining room and seated across from each other, I silently admired my handiwork as Haruna rose her fork to her mouth and beamed at my homemade cooking. She brought her hand to mouth to cover the subtle smile that formed on her lips.

“This is...delicious, Ethan. You’ve outdone yourself.” She said coolly, patting the napkin to the corners of her mouth.

“You don’t have steak often?” I asked her as I took a sip from my glass of red wine.

“No, my parents didn’t indulge much in luxury.”

“And your friends at your penthouse? Rumour amongst the other interns is that you five, the scalpel jockey, and occasionally the paramedic go out for fancy dinner every weekend.”

She scoffed at the discovery of strangers in her personal business, but fondly at the memory I seem to have triggered. But as if a switch had been flipped, the smile on her face faded as she bit her lip and returned to her meal, a solemn look in her eyes.

“We did. But some of us are...not on speaking terms as of today.”

My own guilt began to form knots in my stomach as I saw her expression grow more weary.

“Is this because of the fellowship?”

She laughed bitterly.

“When is it not?”

I eyed her silently as she picked at the small hill of carrots that formed at the side of her plate, pressing her tongue to the inside of her cheek in contemplation.

“I’m happy about this, make no mistake. Reaching such a milestone so early into my career makes me proud. It’ll make my parents proud. I know I didn’t come to Edenbrook just to play patty-cake with my own competition, but I-“

She stopped herself, and her lip quivered momentarily as she silently exhaled.

“I didn’t think I would be so unprepared for the consequences.”

I reached for her hand across the table, taking it in mine as she continued to look down at her feet. She tensed slightly at the sensation but didn’t pull away.

“Rookie. Listen to me.”

“You’re no idiot, and I’m not saying this to make you laugh because you know I don’t joke.” I told her.

“I’ve admittedly said things in the beginning to shake your confidence, and you yourself can recall all my moments of harsh critique. You were so easy to doubt yourself, and for a while I was concerned about whether or not you really belonged here. You’re sensitive. Appallingly sensitive, brash, and naive.”

“Is this supposed to make me feel better?”

“Let me finish.”

I looked at her and for the first time today she returned my gaze willingly, a piercing and penetrative stare that almost compels you to break eye contact.

“But in all those times, your wit, your inextinguishable resolve towards doing what’s right, and your near reckless selflessness proved yourself superior to your self-doubt. You deserve to be on the diagnostics teams for an infinite number of reasons and more, Rookie, and I would be extremely pissed to find that petty backlash made you question that. You’re noble. Almost to a fault. And your dedication, your natural character dripping with charisma, and your untouched innocence despite it all is exactly why I-“

I love you.

Yet the words caught in my throat.

I hesitated, and the three words I anticipated to declare to her all day disappeared from the tip of my tongue. It felt like sandpaper, and I brought a hand up to my neck instinctively as I cleared my throat, loosening my tie and taking a panicked sip of my wine.

“Ethan?” Haruna asked me worriedly and I reached my other hand across the table to grasp her fingers.

“Dr. Sakurai- no, Haruna. You have to know that I-”

I stopped myself again, and I recognized my reluctance to confess as nerves. Who knew that even after guest-speaking in numerous medical conventions and reciting speeches for just as many prestigious awards that telling one woman you loved her was all it took to stutter.

“It’s a blessing and a curse. Being number one, that is.” I bluffed.

Are you kidding me? Are you fucking kidding me? What kind of excuse is that?

But Haruna seemed to have taken comfort in my words, quite obviously pleased at me having sung her praises for longer than two seconds. She smiled, genuinely this time and I felt myself relax.

“You’re absolutely correct.” She agreed.

“Except I wasn’t.”

I froze.

My fingers still wrapped around Haruna’s hand in an almost childlike grip, she pried them off before taking her utensils and finishing her dinner.

“So why?” She asked me, not bothering to look up from her dish as she continued to eat. The nonchalance in her query was alarming and the fact that I immediately knew what she was referring to invoked internal panic.

I stayed silent, choosing to remain oblivious to the context of her question. Despite my failure to respond, Haruna continued to keep her eyes trained on the food fixed in front of her, as if allowing me time to conjure up an excuse. I kept my gaze fixated on her as her fork pierced her steak, and a painfully long and uncomfortable silence passed before she decided to repeat herself.

“The fellowship. Why did I win?”

friday, may 10, 2019

“I won’t let you do this, Ethan. It’s not fair for the other interns!” Harper’s voice boomed across her office as her nostrils flared in pure anger.

“And why the hell not?” I argued, pacing the room in equal frustration.

“She’s an outstanding doctor. She’s driven and passionate- no one deserves this more than Dr. Sakurai-”

“Except for the person who came first in the rankings!” The female doctor scoffed in disbelief, ripping the list from the corkboard behind her desk and aggressively pointing to the name at the top of the sheet.

“In case it wasn’t clear, ‘Aurora Emery,’ Ethan. She came first in the rankings, therefore, earning her place on the diagnostics team. That was the condition on which we agreed upon. No exceptions.”

“This was the condition which you and Naveen agreed upon.” I corrected her, the lingering betrayal tinged in my voice.

“Sakurai is fourth, still one of our best, so what difference does it make?”

“Only everything!” Harper roared.

I quickly looked at the updated rankings with a side eye, and indeed, Dr. Sakurai’s name was fourth from the top. After Aurora, Varma, then Olsen. 

Following her sudden outburst, Dr. Emery attempted to recollect herself, releasing a deep sigh before pinching the bridge of her nose.

“You know what, fine.” She hissed, still displeased.

“The fellowship will go to Dr. Sakurai but the updated list is still going up, and whatever chaos arises as a result, you will be dealing with the reparations.”

Harper shoved the single sheet of paper roughly against my chest before storming out of her office, slamming the door shut behind her.

present

“Ethan, answer me.” Haruna repeated, a little more firmly this time.

“I did it for you.” I said bluntly, failing to convey even the slightest notion of regret at my actions.

I heard her sharp intake of breath, and looking up from my plate I saw that her utensils, still dug deep into her meal, were frozen in place. Her lip quivered once and all I could do was pretend I didn’t notice, knowing full well the shallow breaths she took to steady herself were a failed attempt to keep from crying. And they were not tears of joy.

“Did you think it would make me happy?” She asked quietly, accusingly.

“Just consider it as...recompense” I answered, attempting to avoid her question, but the following silence, contrarily deafening, suggested that I only made things worse.

“Recompense.” She echoed, barely above a whisper as if she wanted to hear the word in her own voice. As if she was afraid to say it wrong.

“No,” I interjected, immediately realizing my mistake, “not like that. I’m sorry.”

I reached for her hand across the table but she recoiled from my touch and rose abruptly from her seat.

“What are you compensating me for, Ethan? Pray tell.”

She continued to glare, and I found myself unable to speak. Unable to breathe.

“That’s not how I meant for it to sound.” I tried to assure her, but to no avail.

“That’s how you made it sound.”

wednesday, november 21, 2018

I appeared at Haruna Sakurai’s penthouse in the pouring rain, half past midnight. She voiced her surprise as I paged her in the lobby, addressing her through the intercom.

“Dr. Ramsey?”

“Rookie.”

“It’s late. What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to see you.”

A brief silence passed between us before I heard the unlocking click of the entrance door. Stepping inside and unable to idle in anticipation for the elevator, I took the stairs to the sixth level.

Reaching the entrance to her penthouse, and Haruna whipped the door open after a single knock, as if waiting for me to show up.

“Dr. Ramsey, I-“

I took one large step forward, cupping her face in my hands and capturing her lips hungrily against my own as she stumbled backwards into her unit. I kicked the door shut and my clothes and hair, drenched from the rain, dripped onto her marble floor as the adrenaline from running up six flights of stairs resulted into me groaning in heavy breaths against her mouth.

A lustful disarray of lips and tongue, we persisted in our heated kiss as we tripped over ourselves in a backwards mess, hitting walls and furniture until her back lay flat against the glass of her living room window, the blinds up and allowing pedestrians below an inappropriate spectacle.

“Your roommates?” I muttered against her mouth and she smiled, grabbing the lapels of my jacket and pulling me in for a deeper kiss.

“Donahue’s. Now shut up and continue where you left off in Miami.”

I obliged. Grabbing both of her wrists in the single palm of my hand, I pinned them above her head as I removed my lips from hers and placed them on her neck. Haruna sighed in content.

“You don’t know how many times I’ve thought about this. About you.” I admitted.

I released her wrists from my grip and trailed my hands down from her arms to her chest, cupping her breasts as I kissed her jawline.

“That kiss in Miami left me wanting more and I have a feeling you knew exactly what you were doing to me the moment you let me put my hands on you, Haruna Sakurai.”

She found herself speechless as my fingers wandered over the silk of her blouse and reached under to feel bare skin, hot against my touch.

“Doctor-“ She began, only to bite her lip and suppress a moan as I reached a hand into her underwear.

Haruna buried her head in the crook of my neck as my fingers continued to work against her, breathing raggedly until she still found the energy to respond.

“Your perverted thoughts just couldn’t satisfy you anymore, could they, Dr. Ramsey?” She looked up at me mischievously and I pulled her chin to me in a rough kiss.

“And that mouth.” I breathed against her lips as she came up for air.

“The things I’ve imagined doing to that smart, pretty mouth-“ And it was her turn to silence me.

Reaching a hand to the back of my head and tangling her fingers into my hair, she pulled my face towards her again in a kiss fueled with fervor. At that point, we both knew I was wrapped around her finger.

“Enough talk, Ramsey. Show me.” Haruna demanded in a threateningly quiet voice, and I could do nothing but follow.

-

“Are you sure about this?” I clarified one last time, taut arms pressed on either side of her head as Haruna laid beneath me, both of us in the nude.

“I know how you feel about me, Dr. Sakurai, and I-”

Haruna reached up, her hands wandering from my lower abdomen and up my chest before cupping my stubbled jaw between her fingers. She silenced me by pressing a kiss to the corner of my mouth, then firmly against the parting of my lips, slipping her tongue in the brief opening she found as I gasped. Reaching around my neck and grasping my curls, I was pulled closer towards the woman beneath me until my head rested on her bare chest.

“I love you.” Haruna whispered against my hair.

“And I don’t care about whatever answer you have, whenever, just as long as you give me this. At the hospital, during the day, we can just be Dr. Ramsey and Dr. Sakurai. But at times like these, at ungodly hours of the morning when it’s just you and me, we can just be a man and a woman.”

“Pretend that you love me, even just for these nights, Dr. Ramsey. That’s all I ask. ”

I said nothing as I rose from her chest and propped myself back up. I felt Haruna’s eyes following my movements, anticipating whatever step next I was going to take, and I found myself drawing my face closer to her features. I kissed her forehead, her nose, then her lips before bringing my own to her ear, murmuring against her skin,

“Ethan, for tonight.”

I felt her smile against my cheek and in response, brought a hand to the opposite side of my face, turning me towards her just close enough for the woman to reply.

“Haruna, then.”

present

“Is it because I let you sleep with me?” She goaded, her brows raised and her eyes ablaze with spite.

“Because while I insisted on confronting whatever—”

Haruna gestured around her.

“—this is, you evaded me like a coward until you decided it was convenient?”

I couldn’t bring myself to look at her.

She reminisced bitterly at that rainy night six months ago, scoffing resentfully as she shook her head at herself. She regretted it, and it hurt that she wanted me to know.

“Is that it, Ethan? Do you pity me?” She spat.

“No!” My head shot up from its downward gaze to answer her sincerely.

And the way she looked at me broke me.

She was inexplicably angry. Hurt, and the contempt in her voice was something I couldn’t stomach. Her eyes glazed with tears threatening to fall, but she wiped at her eyes furiously before breaking eye contact, as if she couldn’t stand the sight of me.

“Haruna, no. Those nights we spent together were something completely apart, I would never-”

“Then why!” She fumed, her voice seething with disgust.

For once in my thirty eight years of living, I didn’t have an answer.

Her breathing came in short, jagged huffs and she pushed her hair out of her face, calming herself.

“You know what they’ve said? The others?” She laughed, despite herself.

“That I slept with you to land that spot on your diagnostics team.”

I couldn’t find words. Dozens of thoughts raced through my head, fueled with guilt and apology, yet for some reason, my mind failed to formulate proper English. I didn’t have the courage to respond to her, Christ, I couldn’t even look at her.

When did I become so weak?

“People know about us, Ethan.” Haruna continued.

“And if it’s not Haruna Sakurai, daughter of Nobel Prize winners, it’s Haruna, Ethan Ramsey’s gold-digging whore. I’m sick of it. So, so sick of it.”

She couldn’t keep up her facade. Her expression, once contorted in pure rage, softened as she let her tears fall freely.

“I’m sorry.” I said. It was all I could muster.

“Sorry isn’t good enough.” She made sure to place emphasis on the last two words, and began to make her way out of the living room and to the entrance.

“Where are you going?”

“Home. I can’t stay here for a second longer.”

“At least let me drive you home-”

“Just tell me this at least.” Haruna spun to face me, unyielding to anymore favours I tried to offer her.

She didn’t trust me anymore.

“That night you showed up at my penthouse-” She began, swallowing hard.

“You touched me like you loved me. Why?”

We both knew the answer to that, yet she insisted to hear it from my own mouth and in my own voice. Suddenly, what I’ve been trying to tell her all day became impossibly difficult to contain. I never imagined that I would have to tell her like this.

But she deserved to know. I owed it her.

“Because I did-” I answered, before hesitating. I looked away, and Haruna’s gaze was still insistent upon me.

You owe her this.

I took one deep breath, before looking at her again. I stated in correction,

“I do.”

She smiled to herself in reassurance.

“I thought so.”  

She shut the door behind her, her departure accompanied with a soft click. Once again, I was left alone in the resonating stillness of my vacant apartment.

I never thought I’d resent the silence this much.

[theliterateape]

From the Archives: Unpacking Branson: A Thanksgiving Improbability

By Don Hall

For Thanksgiving in 2012, I was single and Mom decided that I should come out to my step-sister's place in Branson, Missouri for a good old-fashioned country Thanksgiving. The carrot was family. The stick was Missouri.

In the late 1960s it was pretty much a tiny city in the Ozarks known for roadside stands peddling wares that proliferated the hillbilly stereotype. And, sure enough, there are still today roadside stands that exist only to continue to make fun of that stereotype. It's an odd thing to walk into a business in the middle of the Ozarks that sells you the stereotype it tries to escape from. Like buying a taxi cab medallion from an East Indian store or an “I’m a Wetback” T-shirt in a store that sells Mexican merchandise.

It is said you cannot judge a book by its cover.

This is true most of the time, but there are some things you can judge immediately by its cover and pretty much know what your getting.

An Ann Coulter book. Sean Hannity. A FOX News broadcast. Great America. Applebee's.

I assumed that Branson, Missouri would fall into this latter category. I was right and wrong. And the complexities made it a real trip to remember.

Branson is where the Beverly Hillbillies came from before moving to California.

A winding series of roads littered with signs and theaters and restaurants. Lots of bumper stickers that declare “I’d Rather Be Dead Than SOCIALIST” and random tributes to past GOP glory. In the three days we trucked around the city, I counted perhaps one hundred people of color the entire time — I didn't start the trip by calculating this but after a bit, it was hard to escape. Thousands of old white people with canes and wheelchairs abounded but that doesn't really look that much different than Navy Pier or the audience at Chicago Shakes — old white people like to be tourists and Branson is, after all, a haven of tourism.

My step-sister, Hannah, tells me that the crack business booms among the residents of Branson and there is evidence around if you’re looking for it. The place is slightly schizophrenic in its place as a home to rednecks and hillbillies while trying desperately to distance itself from that by appealing to the tourist trade. There are places that stink of what one expects in Ozarks — a biker bar called the Hawg Trough that even my pro-GOP brother-in-law avoids and a Smoke Shop that doesn't sell cigarettes and has a pit bull guarding the door. But there are surprises that popped up during my three-day Thanksgiving vacation that defied my pre-judged expectations.

The surprises came in weird ways. When I arrived, we ate at a place called the Rowdy Beaver — a place with T-shirts that trumpeted “I Like Bald Beaver” and “That's A Mighty Nice Beaver” and had washboard walls. The thing that surprised was that the food was out of this world. It was delicious and well prepared and not at all what I expected. “Our chef prepares everything from fresh ingredients,” trumpeted our waitress who seemed completely fine with her job at a place filled with such juvenile innuendo.

The Hollywood Wax Museum was fun but the wax figures left me a bit wanting — a frequent refrain of our visit was my niece saying “Who's that?” and me doing my best to figure it out. I tried to convince my family to go to Silver Dollar City so I could find and steal a urinal cake but it was $60 per person and even I couldn't argue that $300 was reasonable for me to complete a toilet cookie tale. We had tickets to a magic show billed as the World's Largest (by the way, every attraction in Branson is billed as “Show of the Year,” “The Most Amazing in the World,” and “Mindblowing”) but the show was cancelled due to illness. Turns out Kirby VanBurch’s greatest trick is to take your money and disappear.

Our replacement show for the afternoon was going to be either Jim Stafford (I desperately wanted to see this) or SIX (the nieces had heard it was awesome). Stafford only did an 8 p.m. show, so SIX at the Mickey Gilley Theater it was.

SIX is six middle-aged brothers who debuted on the Donnie and Marie Show and have fashioned themselves as sort of an older version of an a cappella boy band. As soon as they started with a cheeseball version of Don’t Stop Believin’, Hannah and I turned to each other with a look of pained resignation. These guys had pretty good voices and the arrangements were fine but the self-consciously hip pose and cornball attempts at cool banter was unbearable. I learned that wanting to see an awful Branson show and actually sitting through one are two different things. I also learned that I will never, as a middle-aged white guy, ever use the words “homie” or “peeps” ever again. To be fair, the second act was better — a selection of Christmas songs and a tribute to their dead mother. Apparently this tiny woman had ten children, all boys, and I suspect she isn't dead but just got the fuck out of there before having to bear an eleventh kid. But the damage of the first act left me scarred and a little terrified of that evening’s show — Legends at the Dick Clark American Bandstand Theater.

Legends is a show that debuted in Vegas and moved to Branson. It is a rotating cast of celebrity impersonators ranging from Barry White, Marilynn Monroe and Tim McGraw to the staples of Elvis Presley and Michael Jackson. Our bill was George Strait, Whitney Houston, the Blues Brothers, Liberace and Elvis. As we entered and sat down, once again surrounded by octogenarians, I steeled myself. This was going to be fucking awful.

And it wasn’t.

Really. In fact, it was a blast. The Whitney Houston knocked it out of the park, Liberace was funny but completely inappropriate in a callback to the dark days of The Gay Closet and the Elvis impersonator was so fucking good, if we had been sitting in the nose bleeds it would’ve been like actually seeing Elvis live. My mom, a huge Elvis fan from when he was alive, commented that he was the best Elvis impersonator she had ever seen. Hell, even my teenaged nieces enjoyed the show.

But we saved the best, most Branson-y show for Saturday. Yakov Smirnoff. Holy shit. I couldn’t wait. I was absolutely certain it would embody everything I expected Branson to be — cheesy, cloying, the very portrait of a has-been celebrity stretching out his 15 minutes of fame as paper thin as he could in the heart of the Vegas of the Ozarks. We were greeted by a giant Yakov head making awful jokes about... the size of his head! Inside, it turned out that Yakov was a painter and had his paintings for sale!

The beginning of the show was the longest version of the national anthem I’ve ever heard (who know there were, like, nine verses?) and then I was hit with another fucking surprise. On the video screens came an old Paul Harvey “The Rest of the Story” about a painter known as Jacob who painted and commissioned a painting in tribute to the fallen at Ground Zero in NYC following the Attacks of 9/11.  Painted on the side of a building overlooking the rubble, it was the backdrop to the first anniversary of the attacks. The painter was an anonymous Yakov Smirnoff. He paid for the commission out of his own pocket.

Some of his show was what I expected: a revisitation of his “What a Country!” schtick from the ’80s—a sketch of him as the president answering questions from the audience, and he actually quoted the Lee Greenwood God Bless the U.S.A. as a closer. But other parts were not at all what I anticipated. Turns out that Yakov went out and got a Master's Degree in psychology and decided that his show could also serve as a relationship counseling session as well. Sort of like Defending the Caveman meets a less arrogant Dr. Phill with the takeaway being that we begin relationships laughing and giving each other little gifts and that, if we simply return to giving each other gifts and finding laughter in our relationships, we’ll be happier, healthier people.

Was it a great show? Not really. The dancers were cheesy and only there to fill time, the jokes were funny in a “Yeah, I remember that one” sort of way, the political stuff was tame (although at one point, Yakov asked the audience who was happy with the results of the latest election — a smattering of applause that included my mother and I enthusiastically cheering — and who was ticked off by it — a thundering, slightly ugly ovation — with the Russian comic commenting “Yeah, that's about even...”) and the recurring pro-America stuff was hard to hear after a while. But the thing is... I liked him.

I mean, I really liked the guy. He was so overwhelmingly sincere and genuine. Christ, I wanted to hug him. And, while his show is corny and inoffensive and gentle and perfect for the Branson tourist crowd, this is a guy who lives in Branson, Missouri suggesting that people spend time laughing and loving one another instead of being shitbags.

Prejudice is a funny thing. Judging books by their covers is what we do as people. I imagine it’s a hard drive instinct. But, as I am often heard saying, while we are all unique and precious snowflakes and each of us is completely distinct, we are all made of fucking snow. We all are simply people trying our best to get along in the world. Yes, that means that our baser, uglier instincts come to play like ordinary people rioting in a Walmart on Black Friday to get a discount on a portable DVD player. It also means that our better, more generous nature comes into play, and sometimes it's nice to be reminded that even in Red State Hell, Yakov Smirnoff is telling thousands of people every week to just be fucking nicer to each other.

On Thanksgiving, the point is to be with friends or family and celebrate those things in our lives we are (or should be) thankful for. Sure, the holiday is laden with cultural markers that include the genocide of the Native Americans and our national quest to bequeath every American with diabetes but the point is gratitude. Gratitude can come from a lot of places and I’m thankful to remember the lessons I learned in Branson. 

[ddproductionsw77]

Perfect

Fandom: IT (2017)

Pairing(s): (Main) Reddie (Richie Tozier x Eddie Kaspbrak), (Secondary) Benverly (Ben Hanscom x Beverly Marsh), and Stenbrough (Stan Uris x Bill Denbrough)

Characters: Eddie Kaspbrak, Richie Tozier, Beverly Marsh (Hanscom), Ben Hanscom, Mike Hanlon, Bill Denbrough, Stan Uris, and Cassie Tozier (OC).

Rating: T

Description: Richie had honestly never even thought about kids. Why would he? He wasn’t cut out to be a dad, ask anyone... Anyone but Eddie, apparently. (AKA Eddie and Richie talk about kids. [Aged-Up to Adults])

Author’s Note: I love Reddie more than I should and my best friend, soulmate, sister and I came up with a ton of headcanons and this is the result of one.

“Do you want kids?”

Richie dropped the two plates in his hand, sending them crashing to the floor where they shattered on impact. The pieces of the plate had scattered across the floor, shooting in every different direction. Eddie had wanted ceramics and he’d gotten it but Richie still didn’t understand why they couldn’t eat off of paper plates.

Richie groaned and crouched down across from Eddie, who had also bent to pick up the fragments. Glancing up at his boyfriend, Richie was actually relieved he’d dropped the plates.

He did not want to see the conversation Eddie’s question would undoubtedly lead to. There were certain times when Richie would know instinctually from the start of a discussion with Eddie that it was destined to end in an argument.

This was one of those times.

Eddie, still in his scrubs from the twelve-hour shift he had just gotten home from before cooking dinner, stood with about a plate and a half worth of parts in his hands. He dumped the wreckage into the trash before turning on Richie, who was also standing.

He crossed his arms over his chest and remained expressionless as he asked, “So, I’m guessing that’s a no?”

Richie’s heart jumped into his throat and he fiddled with the ceramic in his hands. “Why ya wanna know, Spaghetti Man? Bevvie and Ben giving you baby fever?”

He knew the dodging and mocking would infuriate his boyfriend but he really didn’t want to talk about this and he knew that the only reason Eddie was even fucking bringing it up was because Beverly had announced to the rest of the Losers a couple months back that she was set to pop out a Hanscom in 5 months.

They were twenty-fucking-two, barely out of college, and struggling to make ends meet for just the two of them; Eddie had to be batshit to be thinking about kids.

“I want to know because,” Eddie dropped his arms to his sides and shrugged, scrunching up his face in that cute way he did when searching for words. “Because you’re my boyfriend and I feel like I should know.”

Richie moved past Eddie and dumped his own pile of the broken plate into the trash, “We’re dating?! Fuck, I totally forgot, man!”

“Richie,” Eddie turned to eye him, his tone frank. “Stop the bullshit and answer the question.”

“Come on, Eds.” Slumping to lean back on the kitchen counter, Richie moodily crossed his arms over his chest and shrugged, “Me, Trashmouth Tozier, a dad? That’s never gonna happen.”

There was a long silence in the kitchen and Richie couldn’t bring himself to look at Eddie immediately. When he did finally let his eyes trail upward, his chest restricted seeing Eddie’s jaw flex and the other boy’s eyes dart away.

Words attempted to crawl up his throat and throw themselves at Eddie’s feet. Words that would fix that repressed look of disappointment but that, Richie knew, weren’t true. He forced himself to stay silent, knowing it would be too cruel to give Eddie false hopes.

Richie had honestly never even thought about kids. Why would he? Like he’d said, he wasn’t cut out to be a fucking parent.

Ask anyone... anyone except Eddie apparently.

Goddammit, had his boyfriend lost his damn mind?

Richie had Mommy issues, Daddy issues and commitment issues to any person or thing that was not Eddie Kaspbrak. There were days where he felt like he was barely keeping his relationship together and if it weren’t for Eddie’s patience and understanding he doubted that would even be true. With a track record like that, why would Eddie even want to have a kid with him anyway?

“Why?” The silence was finally broken by Eddie and Richie rubbed the back of his neck, wishing the conversation would just end.

He awkwardly cleared his throat and shrugged, helplessly, "I’m a fucking poster child for neglect and child abuse, that’s why. I’d only fuck it up.”

Eddie’s eyebrows creased together and he turned his head to look back at Richie, eyes soft and brown, “You really think that?”

“Don’t think it, babe. Know it.”

Eddie sighed, looking contemplative for a moment before nodding, “Okay, so… do you just know that I’d fuck up a kid, too, then?”

“What?” Richie asked, bewildered. He couldn’t see a correlation between his statement and his boyfriend’s question.

“Have you ever met Sonia Kaspbrak?” Eddie inquired, floored, “If you’re fucked up because of your parents, then I definitely am too. So, do you think that I’d be a shit parent, too, then?”

“No,” Richie groaned, running a hand down his face, “That’s not— I didn’t say that.”

“I know, I heard you. You said—“

“Look, Eddie, I really don’t want to do this,” He gestured between the two of them. “I answered your fucking question. Drop it.”

“But—“

“Please.”

Eddie froze, clamping his mouth shut with the words he’d been about to speak still on his tongue. Richie and he argued all the time. Richie told him to drop things all the time. He hammered on without dropping them all the time.

But Richie never said please. It wasn’t his ‘style’ to beg, he always said.

Eddie swallowed hard, mouth still pressed into a tight line, and nodded.

Eddie was distracted, tapping the lid of his coffee cup nervously and nibbling at his lower lip. He was exhausted, having just worked yet another twelve-hour shift in a Friday night ER. It was difficult to run purely on caffeine and the adrenaline of the job that hadn’t yet completely faded as he waited in the cafe around the corner from Derry Home.

Still, Eddie loved being a trauma nurse.

It felt like proof of how far he’d come since he’d been a child with crippling hypochondria and the constant companionship of his inhaler. Sonia, his mother, had nearly had a panic attack herself when he’d told her his career goals back at the start of college but he’d powered on anyway.

He was a grown man now and the stress of the ER seemed to kick him into gear rather than shut him down. Being scared seemed to make him brave, somehow.

The seat across from him scrapped back, a body settling itself down into it.

Mike Hanlon grinned at Eddie, “So, what’s wrong?”

Eddie quirked a tired eyebrow, “What makes you think anything’s wrong?”

“You know I only say this out of love but,” Mike gave his friend an apologetic look, “You look like shit.”

The other man snorted and rolled his eyes, taking a swig of his black coffee, “Well, I appreciate your honesty, I guess, Mikey.”

Mike laughed and shook his head. After a moment though he sobered and looked back at his friend. Eddie had gone back to distractedly drumming on his cup.

“Are you going to tell me or not?”

Eddie eyebrows knit together but he continued to look out the window instead of meeting Mike’s questioning gaze. Bring a hand up, he rested his chin in his palm and tapped his lip with his jittery fingers. He felt like Richie, unable to stop moving.

“Richie doesn’t want to have kids.” He sighed and finally glanced at Mike before quickly darting his eyes away. “Like ever.”

Mike nodded slowly, taking in what his friend had said. He was never one to react in a snap. He knew rash, reckless remarks and advice could be given when one did that and Mike Hanlon was not rash or reckless. No, he was smart and calculating, but honestly clueless on a situation like Eddie’s. He’d never found anyone worth expanding the population with, never had something like what he’d witnessed over the year between Richie and Eddie.

“And I’m guessing that’s an issue because…” He trailed off, considering his next few words carefully, “You want them, don’t you?”

Eddie’s cheeks flushed red and he looked at the table, shaking his head, “It doesn’t matter if I do — If I did. I’d have to not be with Richie for that to ever happen and that’s just not an option.”

“I don’t know about that, Eddie,” Mike said, reluctantly.

Eddie looked up to raise a questioning eyebrow at his friend.

Mike sighed, “Richie had some screwed up parents. He pretends he’s fine all the time but I’m guessing you know better than any of us that he’s not, even now after all these years. So, maybe he’s just scared? Maybe he just needs time to think?”

Eddie nodded slowly, gaze level and steady with Mike’s. “Yeah. Maybe.”

Beverly sat up temporarily to allow Ben to slip in between her and the couch’s armrest before settling her back into his side. Ben threw his hand casual over her shoulder, running his fingers absentmindedly over her arm. At the other end, Richie sat bouncing his leg with Bev’s feet resting in his lap.

Looking up from the dress sleeve she’d been sewing, Bev eyed her friend in annoyance, “Richie, I can’t relax with you doing that.”

“Doing what?” Richie asked, looking away from the baseball game Ben had on.

Bev and Ben both eyed him and the redhead cocked an eyebrow, “You know what. That.” She gestured to his bouncing leg.

Instantly, he stilled only to start up drumming his fingers on the curve of Beverly’s ankle. Sighing, she looked over her shoulder at her fiancé and Ben shrugged wordlessly in reply.

Beverly crossed her arms over her chest and turned back to Richie, “Okay, Trashmouth, spit it out. How’d you fuck up this time?”

Quirking an eyebrow, Richie shot her a little glare, “Why do you assume I fucked up?”

Ben shifted awkwardly beneath Bev before asking, “Well, I mean… did you?”

“No, actually, I didn’t.” The other man replied, stubbornly.

“So… why are you here then? Eddie got off work,” Beverly grasped Ben’s wrist and red the time on his watch, “Two hours ago. Usually, you’d have run home the second the clock hit three.”

Richie shrugged, not meeting either of the couple’s prying eyes.

Beverly bit her lip worriedly before deciding to change the subject, “Benny, we really should start clearing out that spare room for the baby.”

Richie cringed, pinching his brow and drumming more furiously on Bev’s ankle. Goddammit, could he not escape baby-talk?

He watched from the corner of his eye as his best friend’s hand fell to cover the little swell in her abdomen. Fuck, he still couldn’t wrap his mind around the concept of Bevvie Marsh and Haystack Hanscom procreating…

It sparked an irritation in his chest that he knew was completely unwarranted.

Ben’s hand came up to twirl a lock of red hair and he nodded, “Don’t worry about a thing, my lady love. It all just Mike’s old stuff and he, Bill, and Stan said they’d come over to pick it up next weekend.”

“I still feel bad that Mike had to leave…” Beverly trailed off with a sigh.

“It’s not like your average twenty-two year old wants to be stuck in an apartment with a baby anyway,” Richie broke in, calling both Bev and Ben’s attention.

A bright red flush spread across Beverly’s freckles and she raised her eyebrows, “Excuse me? Ben and I aren’t stuck, asshole.”

“Oh, you’re not?” Richie asked in monotone. “Planned this whole thing, did ya?”

“You know what, fuckhead—“

“Richie! Let’s talk outside, maybe?” Ben broke in, carefully standing up so as not to jolt Beverly too much. He gave Richie a look that made it clear that his offer was not really optional. Sighing, the Trashmouth stood as well and followed Haystack to the hallway.

Closing the apartment door behind him, Ben crossed his arms over his chest and silently raised his eyebrows at Richie. “Well?”

“Well what, Benny Henny?”

“Why are you being even more unbearable than usual? You know Beverly doesn’t need that from you right now. You’re her best friend, what you think matters to her. Even when you think stupid.” Ben questioned.

Richie’s ear flushed in shame he’d never acknowledge and he shrugged, “I just don’t see the appeal, I guess. The whole kid thing? Seems a little overrated, little played out, to me. And seeing you and her act like fucking idiots over—”

“I’m going to stop you there,” Ben held up a hand, “Because if I don’t, I might hit you and I don’t need Beverly to be pissed at me.”

Richie opened his mouth to argue but Ben powered on, “Nope, sorry, my turn.”

He narrowed his eyes at the other man, “I don’t know why you’re suddenly being a dick about Bev being pregnant but figure it out and grow the hell up, Richie. Now, go home to your boyfriend because I’m pretty sure he’s the only one who can even deal with you right now.”

Probably true, too… Eddie was always the one to brave Richie’s shittest moods.

Richie sighed and ran a hand down his face, nodding slowly, “Yeah, Haystack. Tell Bevvie I said bye… and that I’m sorry.”

After a week of Richie and Eddie going through their motions without really acknowledging each other, it was obvious that something needed to be addressed. The problem was that neither of them knew which one of them was in the wrong.

Were either of them even wrong?

It was perfectly normal to want to be a parent, Eddie knew that. He’d kind of always assumed that one day, he’d be a father. It was a part of the natural progression he planned his life to take. He’d never brought it up to Richie because, well, he’d figured Richie thought the same way… and he shouldn’t have apparently.

On the other hand, Richie had every right to not want children. The world was a screwed up place and their circumstances as a same-sex couple made becoming parents more complicated than it was for couples like Ben and Bev. There was paperwork and long waiting lists involved and maybe Richie was right… maybe it wasn’t worth it.

Before the idea had been planted into Eddie’s head, he’d been perfectly happy and content with it just being him and Richie. They worked and they fit together just right… so why did it suddenly feel like something was missing?

Because, logically, nothing was missing!

Eddie was at the kitchen table, surrounded by bills, a notepad, and a calculator when Richie came tiredly crashing into the apartment. Eddie glanced up, smiled with exhaustion in his eyes, and returned to his financing.

Richie paused, looking over his boyfriend from the kitchen doorframe. He’d had to do soundboard for the late-night radio host and it was much later than he normally got home. He’d called Eddie, but still…

Slowly, he moved forward and slipping off his jean jacket, “You’re still up?”

Eddie glanced at the clock on the stove, 12:45 am, and shrugged, “Rent is due in a week and I was on-call today so I got started later than usual…”

“Oh, cool…” Richie muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. Eddie eyed him and his obvious discomfort in curiously. It took a hell of a lot to make Richie Tozier uncomfortable, usually something to do with actual emotion.

He dropped himself into the seat across from Eddie and sighed, “I wanted to talk to you actually.”

Eddie narrowed his eyes at the papers in front of him before nodding and looking up, “Yeah, okay. What do you want to talk about?”

Richie picked at his nails, not meeting his boyfriend’s eyes, “You want to be a dad, Eds.” The other man tensed and glanced away but remained silent as Richie continued. “And I… I think you’d be a really good one. I think you should be one.”

“Stop,” Eddie muttered, shaking his head. Richie finally looked up at him, eyebrows drawn together. “Don’t say shit like that, not when—“ He sighed. “Not when it’s never going to happen.”

“Never…“ Richie started but trailed off, nervously continuing to pick at his cuticles.

“It’s fine, Richie.” Eddie shrugged, “I’m fine with it. At the end of the day, I just want to be with you so if that means no kids, then that’s what it means.”

“You’d—“ Richie looked at Eddie with a sparkle of awe in his dark eyes, “You’d give that up for me? W-why?”

“Jesus, fuck, asshole! Why do you think?” Eddie exclaimed, bewildered and annoyed. “Because I love you, dipshit! I don’t know why most of the time but I do. So, yes, I would give up having kids for you. I mean— I am.”

He cleared his throat and Richie could tell he was trying to convince himself more than he was trying to convince his boyfriend. Guilt swirled in the DJs gut as Eddie finished, lamely, “So, you don’t need to talk about it anymore!”

Swallowing and looking anywhere but Eddie’s doe eyes, Richie murmured, “What if I want to talk about it… a little bit?”

Eddie’s eyebrows shot up from a look of irritation to one of shock, “You— Uh— What— What the fuck do you mean, Trashmouth?”

“I don’t know if I want to be a dad, Eds. I don’t know if I’ll ever want to be a dad but I am starting to think that maybe,” He tried to find the right words, “Maybe I want to see you be one and I’m not willing to give you up so… I want to keep talking about that.”

Nodding slowly, Eddie smiled down at the table before looking up at Richie with watery eyes, “Let’s keep talking about that, then.”

It took a literal fuckton of talking to get Richie where he needed to be to even consider agreeing to co-parent. Richie needed to know, without a shadow of a doubt, that he wanted to have a child. That he’d want one when they came along, that he’d want them a year after that—or ten, twelve, twenty. He refused to be like his parents. He never wanted his son or daughter to feel the resentment he’d lived with all his own life.

Eddie was patient, though. He figured they had time, right? They were only twenty-two after all…

In the end, it took a lot of talking but not much time.

Eight months after their 1 am conversation, Richie held Cassidy Beverly Anne Tozier for the first time.

He counted her ten little fingers and her tiny toes probably fourteen times, never once looking away from her angelic features and finding himself reluctant to even blink. The weight of her small six pounds, three ounces, nineteen inches felt so natural in his hands as she looked up at him with otherworldly baby blue eyes, filled with a complete and utter trust that he most definitely did not deserve.

She was perfect, every fucking inch of her.

She was perfect and she was his—his and Eddie’s.

The papers were signed, the deed was done, no backing out now.

Not that Richie wanted an out; now that he had seen her and held her and loved her, Richie knew it’d take the fury of Hell to tear her away from him.

“You okay?” A hand rested on his arm, another running gently over the tuft of dark hair on Cassidy’s head, and Richie didn’t have to glance up to imagine Eddie’s endearing smile and teary eyes.

Richie nodded, muttering, “Perfect.”

[austinpanda]

Dad Letter 052321

23 May, 2021

Dear Dad--

Sunday greetings! Yesterday was a big event; we had company for the first time since Thanksgiving. Same company, as it happens, plant scientist guy and husband of plant scientist guy, also known as Bryan and Andrew. By this past Friday, the last of us to get vaccinated--Zach--was two weeks past the date of his second vaccination. Since it’s now deemed safe for vaccinated people to mingle without masks or social distancing, we’re going to attempt to have a life outside the trailer again. So we celebrated this by inviting people into the trailer for an afternoon!

I’m not sure how it happened, but a plan developed for them to come by at 2:00 and make us all caprese salad. Then I would make corn dogs, and then we’d have rice pudding Zach made for dessert. We were going to have caprese salad because Bryan recently learned how to make it. Imagine a plate with six tomato slices on it, spread out, and each one has a slice of mozzarella cheese on it, with a basil leaf on top. Then you drizzle all six of those shits with olive oil and a bit of balsamic, and salt and pepper. That’s a caprese salad. I was making corn dogs because I made a joke about contributing corn dogs, but everyone likes corn dogs so much, it became part of the official plan. And we were all going to try the rice pudding because Zach wanted to contribute something without having to cook, and this was something he’d made (in accidental abundance) just the day before. Pretentious Italian salad, bourgeois hot dog snack, and, out of nowhere, rice pudding.

The visit was quite a success. The caprese salad was good, because any dish that allows you to stuff cheese into your mouth is good. And the rotten commie bastards at the grocery store didn’t have any corn dogs (I even asked, and they didn’t have any in the back, either.) so I got Johnsonville sausages (like big fat sausagey hot dogs) and buns. We watched some funny stuff and some high-def nature documentary stuff on the TV. I’d promised to tell them all the secret stuff about working in a casino that I’m not supposed to tell anyone, but when the moment came, I couldn’t think of anything. I haven’t learned any interesting secrets yet! I’ve just learned how to complete the daily food and beverage audit, and a couple others. If I started describing, in detail, how I do it, you’d quickly fall asleep.

Tomorrow should be an interesting day at work! The whole time I’ve been working there, the casino has been operating on its post-apocalypse business model. Two thirds of all the slot machines are simply turned off, so different patrons won’t sit too close to each other at the slot machines. Been like that for months. Tomorrow, however, they’re going to turn on all the slot machines for the first time since before the apocalypse began. I expect it will be weird. It’s like I’ve been on a cruise ship, but it was only at 33% capacity, only going 33% as fast as it could, with the lights only at 33% brightness. Now everything’s going back to 100% all at once. It’s going to feel noisy and unusual, I predict! But it’s all good. This is a step back toward normalcy.

The job is currently an odd mixture of comfortable familiarity and daily exposure to terrifyingly confusing new shit. To sum up, there are seven audits I will eventually learn. I’m starting to think of them as the seven pillars of bureaucracy. So far I’ve learned three. The potential iceberg that could sink this ship is this: when I’m doing audits, I’m interacting with some very important, complex, inter-connected spreadsheets, and there’s a very real potential that I could break something. Tyler has explained to me that some things I’m going to be doing involve the potential for me fucking up large and important things. I asked him, “We’re going to be real careful about training me to NOT do that, right?”

I have learned, to my dismay, that it’s ridiculously easy to fuck up a spreadsheet! Here’s an example. You make a spreadsheet, there’s columns, and headings, and numbers, and data, and let’s say there’s one box in the spreadsheet where you tell the spreadsheet to put the total of a bunch of numbers in the column above. You literally put a little equation into that cell of the spreadsheet, so that after you enter the numbers in the column, the spreadsheet calculates the total and puts it in that box automatically.

Now let’s say you’re doing your job, and instead of letting the spreadsheet put the total in that box, like it’s supposed to, you decide to be Mr. Initiative and just type in the total yourself. You enter the total into that box where you told the spreadsheet to calculate it. Well, congratulations, you’ve just broken your spreadsheet! Now, the next time someone puts the numbers into that particular column, the spreadsheet won’t put the total in the appropriate box, because the equation has been removed, by you, when you put the total in by hand yesterday. Now it just has that number you entered in that box, FOREVER. Someone has to figure this out, go back to the appropriate point, and replace the deleted equation so the spreadsheet works properly again. And the boss looks at you with a frown, and says frowny things about being careful where you put data on the spreadsheet. And I’m sitting there thinking, “I didn’t know this kind of fuckup even existed till five minutes ago.”

It’s just now full-blown spring here in Maine. And, to Zach’s great distress, it’s getting warm. We’re expecting our first day of highs in the mid 80s to come this Wednesday. That might not seem like much, but without air conditioning, that’s going to make it close to 90 degrees inside. I am therefore going to have to reinstall the window unit air conditioner that I bought last year. (Yes, I uninstalled it when the weather turned cold, so I could have the use of that window for the next 8 or 9 months.) It’s a strange kind of window unit, and I probably described it last year when I got it. It’s like a white suitcase standing on end, with a Black & Decker label, and there’s a dryer hose-type thing that pushes hot air out of a hole in the window, instead of the whole unit sitting in the window. So you don’t have a big, unsightly AC unit in your window, but you have a sleek white suitcase thing on your living room floor instead. It’s not ideal, but the suitcase then pumps out enough cool air to prevent you from sweating to death, and we’re in favor of that.

To add a degree of difficulty, I’ve resolved to install it in the living room window this time, instead of the smaller, easier dining room window. I don’t know how to install it into a window that big, so I may have to get creative (i.e. duct tape). This will solve one crucial problem, however: putting the AC unit in the dining area was kind of stupid, because no one spends time there. That was just the easiest window to install it in. It needs to be in the living room, where the people actually go. I’m curious to see what I’ll come up with, and how it’s going to look after I’m done.

The coming work week should also be interesting because we think corporate is going to allow us to take our masks off while we work, assuming we’re fully vaccinated, which I am. Having to work with a surgical mask when you also wear glasses is such a monumental pain in the balls, so lifting the mask mandate at work is going to be a very sweet occasion. Plus, there’s about two dozen casino workers who are going to see my face for the first time, and I predict at least a couple of them will spontaneously disrobe, because they like my beard, and my purty mouth, and my jawline (which I have one of, now that I’ve lost weight). Should be interesting!

More next week. All my love to you both!

[tigersplaygrnd1]

About YoI, “resellers,” and market depletion

Mostly ranting.

Recently, I went to the Bungou Stray Dogs Ani-kuji lottery event. For those who don’t know, Ani-kuji is Animate’s own anime goods lottery, in which you buy tickets and then get prizes. Much like Ichiban Kuji, there are no losing prizes, but the higher level prizes are not only rare but also exclusive. “Kuji” is translated to “lottery,” but I would liken the event more to a raffle, which has limited prizes and doesn’t necessarily get better with the more people who draw. Bungou Stray Dogs does not do any other lotteries, such as Ichiban Kuji; so often enough, the Ani-kuji is the only event to play this kind of psuedo-gambling for the series.

It was on a weekday, which means that I would have to take off time from my “day job” in order to go to it. I woke up at 4:30 am to see the sunrise and headed to the office to get my morning’s work done, as I expected that I would probably be standing in line all morning long.

To my pleasant surprise, when I arrived there were only about 5 people in line with three people already at the register doing their lottery pulls. At the previous Ani-kuji last November, I had arrived around an hour late but still managed to draw even though there was a line well out the door. I thought I was in good shape. I was wrong.

For the most part, there is no limit on the number you can draw. This system worked for the previous BSD Ani-kuji, as fans tended to be measured in their gambling and just do a few draws and then get back in line to draw again hoping the odds would move in their favor with more people drawing. This system works out for most, because as people are satisfied with different levels of prizes (i.e. I wanted the second-to-lowest prize), it helps people try for the item they want with the lowest amount of tickets necessary. This year, however, this did not happen.

There was a reseller, who was already there when I had arrived. I am not even sure how many tickets they had pulled, but it was well over 100. It is even possible he drew most of one box of prizes by himself. We were all standing in line. A few more fans showed up, like me, pleasantly surprised by the short line, but as we watched the reseller open each ticket one-by-one and then subsequently receive all their prizes one-by-one (necessary to confirm the winner is getting the correct prizes), we all became antsy and just generally not happy, even though we all walked into the store generally excited.

Now, the more cutthroat amongst us might be saying, “Well, there is no limit. That should be expected.” 

While that is true, that is definitely not in a JP BSD fandom context. Sure, some people will show up to the event ready to drop down $1000 on lottery tickets, but in general, they won’t. Who really wants to spend $1000 in one go anyway? They’ll space it out in order to play their odds and not hold up the line. Sure, there is a level of competition for prizes, but we are generally nice and polite to each other.

While standing in line, my phone battery died. I watched the same anime trailer over and over again on the staircase’s LCD TV while the three other people at the register waiting to draw started to get into a panic seeing all the prized go to this one person, who showed next to zero interest in the prizes, just stuffing them into bags with zero emotion.

The next two people drew 80 tickets and 60 tickets, respectively. Regardless, the number of tickets had dwindled, the atmosphere grew more competitive, as a woman, I assumed had already drawn, came back and asked if she could draw more, because she didn’t know there was no limit. She had to get back in line. Another fan asked to wait until the new box started because she didn’t want to draw if certain prizes were missing. It was, indeed, a cluster-fuck.

To add insult to injury, the Animate staff this time had zero competency to deal with the issue at hand. As you would expect at a retail establishment, the employees deferred to the manager, who I would say, is not a very good manager. She sat by and watched as the reseller spent over 45 minutes at the register and tried to explain to the fan who bought 60 tickets that she could not buy more, because they will start a new box, and she can’t buy from two different boxes at once. (Luckily it seems the 60-ticket fan hit her prizes, so she did not draw again after that. She was asking for 100.)

After the manager finally woke up and realized that they were running out of tickets, she went to the line and asked us one-by-one how many we wanted to draw. We, of course, are not sure. We wanted to know what was left before we decided how many to draw. If the prize we want is not there, we will not draw or we will draw less. It’s a pretty simple logic, but the manager seemed to not understand this. Even when questioned by the fan in front of me about why she was asking and if she was asking our maximum, etc., the manager brushed her off, explaining her own logic that she wants EVERYONE in line to have a chance to draw.

Most of us say we want 20-30 draws. This should have been expected. We don’t know what prizes are left. We don’t know how many tickets are left. Even if I’m only going to draw 10, I said 20. The manager goes to the calculator and then announces, “THERE IS NOW A 10-TICKET LIMIT, BECAUSE IT IS ONLY FAIR FOR ALL OF THE PEOPLE LEFT TO DRAW. PLEASE COOPERATE.”

This, of course, didn’t improve the atmosphere at all, and the workers were also showing signs of stress and were rushing, because the manager was rushing them. The did not update the remaining stock in time.

By the time I get up there, there are less than the limit of 10 tickets in the current box, and I am also restrained by the “no fishing in two ponds” rule. They show me the “remaining items.” There are still a slightly rare prize that my friend wanted so I agree to draw out the rest of the box. This should, by any logic, mean that I am guaranteed those prizes. I did not win those prizes. Instead I won all the lowest prize. (If I had known it was all the lowest prize, I would not have drawn.)

I got back in line with the few remaining fans, who all seemed to be dying for Chuuya, to finally be able to really draw 10 tickets. My first draw didn’t even feel like a draw. When I finally get to the counter for the second time, the manager is like, “Can I help you open the tickets?” More rushing, but I agree because I am not an asshole, but she is opening the tickets literally as I draw them. She opens an A prize, the highest prize, but she does not tell me. I don’t even know what my prizes are until she is running back with all my items, mostly can badges, but OH MY GOD IS THAT A BLANKET. It is literally in a bag before I can react.

[You can see some items I got from this event in the livestream I uploaded to YouTube. Yes, my double can badges are all missing from this image.]

Now, you might be thinking this is the manager’s fault, or there should have been a limit from the beginning. I asked, and at other stores, there were not really many problems with resellers or having to impose limits. This was in fact a special case, and indeed, they mishandled the situation. In my personal opinion, Haikyuu events are the most well run. Even if they run out of an item, they still have enough stock for at least 70% of their expected capacity. They also literally write they will refuse to sell to resellers, which means, even beyond the “limits” they can literally say, “No, you cannot buy here.” (Even if they don’t enforce the rule, it keeps resellers from even trying.)

Additionally, last year’s Ani-kuji, at the same Animate, was pretty well-run. They didn’t rush, but they also didn’t make any mistakes with what was remaining. In that kuji, I came up, and there were about 12 tickets left. I asked for 10, but she showed me the remaining items; and, after asking about what I was shooting for, she told me in more words, “Just buy them all.” I got all the prizes she showed me were remaining.

Then, there is the reseller. People might find it hypocritical that I am criticizing a reseller, because I am, after all, a reseller. For events, however, I never buy more than what is acceptable for one person to buy; and additionally, I respect the other fans and don’t hold up the line, by, for example, doing 10 at a time. I limit the number of requests I accept. I go with one or two specific buyers in mind, sometimes my personal friends, so I know what they want and am shooting for certain prizes, just like everyone else. I make measured decisions on how much I have to spend and try to spend less than quoted. I’m not just trying to buy the whole damn store. The reseller wasted our time by doing their pulls that way, when they could have done it all online. They also changed the atmosphere completely. Regardless of the”Black Friday” mentality of the culture I grew up in, I like and enjoy this fandom and like to share anxious moments with them, but this time was not enjoyable at all.

(As a perspective, the vast majority of attendees to non-kuji events, myself included, will buy 1-5 items max. Also, buying “gifts” for friends is a common practice in Japan, so I stay within my own limits of what that looks like. While there are fans that buy up to the store limits for themselves, it isn’t as common as you would think.)

What does this have to do with YoI?

I’ve known for awhile that certain resellers that sell to international fans ruin the atmosphere in similar ways at YoI events. In general, I don’t usually run into them as I usually don’t have the resources or time to go to an $80 event for just 2 people. Additionally, I go at different times as them, because, well, again, I’m busy and don’t have time to be there Day 1. Yes, this means I do miss out on some goods, but I usually can still get what my buyers are asking for, so it isn’t a big deal.

But, if I am being honest, if I saw one of these resellers in the line ahead of me doing this to me, I might say something to them. Much like the reseller at the BSD event, they seem to slip by because of stereotypical Japanese politeness. I’m going to say this in a rather rude way, but that is taking advantage of an otherwise friendly fandom. Much like the reseller at the BSD event, they are probably already out the door without realizing the chaos they have caused in their wake. I would stretch to say it is even worse, because we were just some 10 people in line being imposed a limit at a free event. It is no comparison to some hundreds of people who paid good money to attend an event but are faced with sold-out goods. That is just devastating. Sure, the event is partially to blame for not being clairvoyant, but then, you have to remember the resellers are making money from it.

The unpopular point. 

The main point I want to make is that these resellers are in seen as my competition. People think maybe because of my mediocre social media presence, I am somehow the same as them. I am not. I do not see them as my competition because I do not do “preorders.” I do get exclusive goods, but I get them the same as a normal Japanese fan: second-hand markets, trying to attend to events with the little time and resources I have. I get the bulk of my goods second-hand, which is being influenced and affected by these resellers, whether international fans realize it or not.

I even find the discourse on YoI prices laughable, as the international fans need to know the fact that they are willing to pay high prices and “requesting” large amounts of goods before they can even hit the Japanese second-hand market is indeed increasing the resell prices in the Japan. International fans aren’t just innocent bystanders at the whims of the Japanese fandom. I’m not saying international fans should stop buying. I am saying they need to be open-minded to the idea that international fans affect the Japanese market as well.

Finally, these items are in fact, exclusive goods, regardless of how easily they are to buy on the internet. Sure, there is a premium, but compared to the everyday Japanese fans who do not know about the international preorder market, the fandom is not expecting to be at the exclusive event and then being told everything is sold out before the event is even halfway in, or getting there four hours early to have to wait another hour for one person to finish their transactions. The average Japanese fan spends a lot of time and energy just to get one thing, but resellers can bulk buy and spread their premium out over dozens of buyers who aren’t even at the event.

Now, some people seem to think I am a fool for wanting to play by unspoken rules in the Japanese fandoms (that I enjoy and regularly interact with, btw). Others seem upset that I would even dare to say anything is wrong with the international preorder market or the business practices of my “competition.” I get that they are your “only outlet” to exclusive goods, but that just tells me that you do not see me as a viable “outlet.”

I have over a hundred unsold YoI items in my store. My only option is to turn back to the Japanese market and do a part of my selling again here.

I will still continue to sell YoI, but my stock will be much more limited then it is now. Thank you all for your support until now and your continued support in the future.

(Yes, beka army fam, Otabek goods will still be priority items for me.)

[unorthodork]

I don’t really like saying anything uber mega personal here, because I’m sorta just here to reblog relative stuff, and maybe write a little? However, I feel I need to get some stuff off my chest. Depression is perhaps the most devastating mental war there is. It is at moderate difficulty to enter such a war zone, although ridiculously easy to remain. You have no choice to vacate and return to your family, only to man the guns and arm yourself to endure this one soldier battle. The rivalry between joy and depression plays tug of war with your mental stability, a lone troop desperate to escape. Joy enrolls and deports you to the battlefield with little to no notice, a lingering presence of an infinite vast No Man’s Land. Tarnished terrain with jagged sharp branches that disperse from ash brown bark makes the land look like a filter. Not a single barricade in place, you trek onward with the assumption this first passage will be simple to cross. A few miles in, unsuspecting of such a disturbance, you fall into a trench. Luckily it isn’t very deep, minor as if it were unfinished. You dig your fingers into the Earth, flinching as you feel a rock attempt to slip beneath your nail. You check your flesh, unscathed as it has always been, many would compliment and envy your complexion and condition. Upon settling both feet onto the terrain, you step on a shard of glass that barely pricks the heel of your sneakers. “I may need a change of footwear more suitable,” you conclude, pulling out a pair of pristine combat boots. Your eyes dart between your current favorite pair of rainbow sneakers, and the midnight black combat boots. Reluctantly, you change pairs and stuff the favored item into your rucksack. Wiggling your toes and looking down, you realize you much preferred the saturated and colorful option over the grim, achromatic resort. The petal falls free from the rose, the first chip off the old block that is your happiness. The glass caught between the soles go unnoticed by your newly recruited self, properly suited for the rubble now. As your mind begins to wander and ramble, distracted you trip over a small sack barricade. A hand swats away dust and pebble nestled into the fabric of ocean blue denim jeans, yet again a favorite article of clothing. A light sigh slips between parted, plush lips as a set of leg pads jerk free from a small compartment. Strapped tight around plump thighs and durable knees, the color is a dim grey that instantly makes you miss the vibrancy of your trousers. Weeks fly by as quickly as the crows overhead, days of the week less monitored than prior. Was it Monday, or Wednesday? Perhaps it was a Friday or Sunday? The silver watch fastened around an overused wrist broke long ago, and so you lost your track of time. Barricades, debris, rivers and trenches have came your way and ultimately resulted in an entire change of your wardrobe. “I won’t be leaving this place with all intact.” Thought to be alone, the pistol within its holster is gripped firmly upon a shadowy figure approaching. “Hey friend, I’ll help you find your way about. It’s awfully lonely here, isn’t it?” spoke a scrawny civilian, decked in gear alike yourself which indicated they may have been a solider rather than common folk. You nod and accept the invitation of their company, friendship is a good thing after all; they appear wholly capable of surviving these harsh conditions, the battle will be easier together. What is it you’re looking for, pal?” “Um, it’s the guy who created all of this..destruction. The bodies,” You gesture your thumb towards one of the many surrounding piles of lifeless corpses, sided by various weapons. Their eyes widened in fear, taking a hasty few steps back before exclaiming in a shaky manner “Oh no, not it.” “You’re seeking it,” “Yes, I am? Who exactly are we talking about here?” They shook their head, retrieving a dull blade beside a body they for some reason took interest in. Aged blood the shade of rust was smeared by saliva coating a slim thumb, much to your surprise. “Not a who, a what. Maybe a who depending on how far gone you are.” You tilt your head in confusion. “It is a gastly demon you see, one I advise to steer clear of.” In a battle stance, you shake your head triumphantly, “I will act accordingly when I see it, then.” The following crackle of vocal cords startle you, this man hasn’t been so loud, every word spoken pillow soft. Anxiety racks your nerves and thought process, heart beat increasing. “You can’t see it, useless kid. Do you lack sense? It’s invisible or otherwise similar to dense smoke, kind too. It has to be to ensure the thoughts can get in, now let’s travel onwards.” You hadn’t thought much of the insult, as it’s been heard so many times you assume it’s likely correct, that you lack sense. Useless was a new one, however speaking up may not be quite beneficial, so you follow his lead now. A sickly crooked smile highlights already wrinkled features, skin crinkled even more so thanks to his expression as you begin to feel inferior in comparison to this solider. He knows more about this creature, after all. Months have sailed along in resemblance to the battleships that once littered the now surrounding body of water. During this journey you were fortunate enough to meet another survivor, and learn more about Sixten, the other occupant of your party. Anorexic and skeletal in result of such, he forcefully kept true to making his body reject all meals. You found this out the one night he’d stripped himself of his sweater and faced the dead trees, the only sound other than the roaring, luminescent fire being gagging and violent hacks. Sixten Davis, Luci Furr, and yourself. You and Luci have grown quite close, a relationship that blossomed gradually although now somewhat sketchy. Being with her, you've learned it's much to blame yourself over the latter; Hearing seemingly endless complaints and witnessing shed tears pool at the underside of her pointed chin. The loyalty established is as well questionable, as many a nights may you find hear her lilted giggling and Sixten's voice mingling in the distance. "We've met the end of land, sea is only ahead," You exclaim with a hint of sadness, the life and essence you once contained now in bottled amounts. "Make yourself useful then, and begin to craft a raft," Luci giggled at the intentional rhyme in his demand. "Perhaps you can help?" You inquire sharply, eyes narrowed and brows knitted together in irritation. Luci was quick to defend Sixten's honor, unlike yourself. "He's on watch for any more demons, don't be rude to him. We don't have to help you, you're luck to have us." Relax, the therapist once said it helps to breathe deeply. "This is why I must insult them, I don't get why they can't just learn." Your eye twitches, ire boiling in the pit of your stomach. Inhale. "It's their fault anyways, dragging us along on this trip," "Ungrateful as always." Exhale. "You both treat me like absolute trash! How is it my fault, when Luci is the one who ate all the rations? When you're the one who screwed the calculations and sent us on a run around in the forest?!" You soon regret this outburst, silence numbing your skin as it tingles and the palms of your hands grow clammy. A year has driven by now, and you've forgotten the type of car you'd once desired, otherwise you would compare the statements. Luci robbed you of your supplies and self esteem, whilst Sixten had vicked you of your prized physical attribute. A once clear complexion was now littered with scars from a sharpened blade, the same dull knife Sixten pocketed and spent time repairing afterwards. To spite you, he'd carved many insults into the flesh of your stomach and chest to remind you of who you are. Tired limbs swam through filthy waters to the next slice of land, fragile bones creaked and moaned like old wood from the constant maneuver of land not one bit level with the rest. Here you stand now, before the ghoul you've long searched for. It depressed you how many trials you'd suffered just to see it was exactly as Sixten described it, smoke. "Hello, it." "Please, call me friend." It's voice echoed and repeated as if someone played multiple audio clips at the same time from different tabs. It's tone was inviting, warmth enveloping you as it approached a single step closer. You shook my head hastily in rejection, fearing now what friendship's purpose was, and what it truly meant. It's hand was firm and constricting on your shoulder however, despite the vain attempt at warding it away. Physical contact has grown void in your life, it's hold served pleasant and home-like. "I cannot hurt you, my dear. Please, invite me in." It's request made little sense, nonetheless you accepted it. Everything sounded fuzzy and unclear with it's grasp growing uncomfortable now, the pain felt relieving though, you make no attempt to pull back. Slowly nodding, it smiles, "Good, very good." You realize it didn't smile, rather you visioned it. Charming little nothings were whispered softly and rotated about in your membrane, and the cold pressure of a pistol to your temple failed to wake you. "You've endured so much pain, why not join me, and lessen the amount of hurt you experience? You don't have to feel it any more." Hot tears streamed down cool blemmished cheeks, calloused fingers pressing tighter into the weapon. "Pull the trigger." For a mere moment you debated tugging it back, before your eyes widened upon seeing yourself stand upright before you. The curve of plush lips complemented untouched skin. A rainbow tie die t-shirt to match your rainbow sneakers, Converse brand just like you liked them. Ocean blue denim jeans. "The sooner you do, the quicker the pain will vanish." Beside that image was the current you, mirrored in horrific fashion. This wasn't the you everyone would recognize and remember, certainly not the one you'd wanted to be. Dusty combat boots that faded away from their once true color of midnight black, split from the now flat soles. Loosely hanging padding on your legs, arms, and chest. Greasy locks strewn about a grimey forehead, dandruff flakes caked onto your scalp. Ocean blue denims now faded to an ash color, a tiedie shirt near black and white. A trembling hand pulls up the shirt to reveal carved flesh, reading adjectives like "Stupid," "Useless," and "Weak." A violent scream echoes, and a bang follows. The trigger was pulled.

[dredshirtroberts]

So...things that happen in spring:

Weather - all of it at once.

Birthdays - all of them within spans of approximately 2 weeks between.

The changing weather this week has made me sore and achey all over. I don’t feel like moving, all my problem joints are acting up more than usual and my normal non-problematic joints are uncomfortable and stiff. But the world does not stop just because it’s 30°F one day and 70°F the next.

I wish it did tho.

They’re calling for snow this weekend. Cautiously optimistic about it, but definitely not holding my breath.

fuckin’ global warming man.

And birthdays. My mother just had hers on Monday. We had a family dinner on Sunday to celebrate. Next week is boyfriend’s birthday. Mine’s in three and a half weeks. 

I turn 25. 

You know what I want for my birthday? I want to celebrate with people who will value my contributions to the conversation and won’t talk over me when I speak. I want to celebrate with people who value my existence in this world as more than a status symbol and who appreciate my talents and worth. I want to be with people who acknowledge how fucking GORGEOUS I am, and smart and clever, and amazing I really fucking am. 

Most of the people who fit these requirements live far away and/or are very busy this time of year. None of them are my family.

So I guess it’s just gonna be me and the boyfriend - which is fine. I just also kind of...

I’ve been starting a depression spiral and I am fighting ever so desperately to keep myself above the black abyss of self-deprecation and hate. It would be nice to be with people who don’t drag me down and make me feel worse. 

Boyfriend has been amazing every time this sort of thing happens. I know why it happens - it’s because I hung out with my family and they...they do not appreciate how fucking amazing I am. Even when they try, it’s limited by the fact that they are utterly self-centered and more focused on how my amazingness reflects their “efforts” in raising me.

Oh and my parents praise the fact that they did neglect my sister and I. They don’t call it neglect but that’s what they did.

We have STORIES we share around the dinner table about my sister and I LITERALLY LEAVING THE HOUSE WHILE WE WERE STILL IN DIAPERS because no one was paying attention to us. I once went out in the snow in nothing but a diaper with a blanket. I have a very vivid memory of attempting to run away from home at age 3 or 4 with just my plastic Barbie backpack - my downfall was that I couldn’t tie my shoes on my own.

There are multiple stories about this.

My parents are completely alcoholic. They function well enough but they’re alcoholics. My mother went through almost an entire bottle of wine by herself during the 3-ish hours I was over at their house for dinner. My father made it through nearly an entire six pack - again, by himself - in the same amount of time. I then went to Sam’s Club with my father on Tuesday and he bought 7 bottles of wine that I know will be gone by the end of this weekend if not sooner. He laughed about the fact that they might last two days with my mother in the house.

He giggled as he put them in the cart, like he was just buying something normal like extra chips or some cookies or something. A treat, but one you’re “not supposed to have because society says DIE-BEETUS or something”. (not to discount anyone with diabetes. It was a bad example and I wish I had a better one but I do not and I am sorry).

But it’s 7 bottles of wine they don’t need because mom already had 2 bottles from dad, and I bought her one for her birthday (because, fuck it, it was easy and I didn’t have to put any real thought into it and it was relatively impersonal. also less than $7 and she was pleased with it). That’s 10 bottles of wine. Minus the 1 she was nearly done with by the time I left on Sunday. 9. Minus one for every day in the week so far. Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, and we’ll count todays too, because it’s Friday. that’s 5 more. She has 4 bottles left.

We’ll assume because it’s Friday they’ll “treat themselves” to extra. Add another bottle to Friday for 3 left out of the nine they had by Tuesday. Tomorrow will be at least one more bottle of wine. Maybe 1.5 because they have church on Sunday. which leaves 1.5 left for Sunday dinner and to pregame for Monday. This is also assuming they haven’t bought anymore since Tuesday, or drank more one night than I’ve accounted for here.

Not to mention the beers, or if they went out anywhere for dinner or with friends. 

This is how it’s been for my entire life. I learned how to open a bottle of wine and pour it when I was 12. I learned how to pour a perfect beer (not too much head on it now, tip the glass and pour down the side, make sure the glass is frosty from the freezer that’s a girl) at roughly the same time. My life goal at 16 was to be a bartender and own my own pub because it would make my parents proud and I thought drinking that much every night was *normal*. 

A note for the bottles of wine now that I think about it - these are standard bottles, not the giant ones you can get. Though, to be fair my mother can, will, and has put away a whole giant bottle plus half another in one night before. And I’m not talking an all day drink-a-thon (though they do that too). I’m specifically talking about the hours between 6 and 10. Four hours. 5 servings of wine (at least).

And that’s the easy one to calculate. If they have beer? Forget it. Who knows how many they’ve had until the next day when they line up all their conquests into a nifty little beer-amid they then instagram to their facebook because hee hee look at how much we had last night - and every night!

And god forbid if I start talking about myself or anything I’m interested in. If I want to share it has to be easily adaptable to something my sister can talk about herself with, or something my parents agree with/also like. Because if not, forget it. I would be better off not even there.

And I’m MAD about this. I am so upset about the fact that this happens every time I’m with my family. EVERY TIME.

I’m so angry. I’m so frustrated. And I know it’s because I want them to be better. I want them to be that family I thought I had growing up that I realize now was just my brain trying to protect me from the fact that no one loved me while I grew up. No one gave a shit about me. I didn’t have anyone give a proper shit about me until 2014. Maybe not even 2015.

That fucking sucks, you know? 

My therapist said to make sure I engage in the emotions I feel and let myself feel them. It hurts but in order to move forward you have to let yourself be in the moment with those feelings.

So here I am, at work - thankfully alone, pissed the hell off and heartbroken that this is my fucking life. this is the family I was given to. They didn’t even WANT me. I was an accident.

It’s not okay. But I will be okay. I have a support system and friends who love the shit out of me. People I would gladly take a bullet for, or punch a nazi (though frankly I’d do that anyway) for, or support in any way I possibly can. Because they have my back, and I am incredibly grateful for them. 

I also have a boyfriend who loves me, who cares for my wellbeing and who understands that I am still healing because I have wounds I don’t even know about. Or at least consciously acknowledge. 

I’m broken on the inside but they sell duct tape in fun colors and patterns now so I can mend myself with my own style. And I’ll be loved while I do it and I will love with my entire being - broken pieces and all - just to spite them

Because I have to.

Because I need to heal.

[auswriteforyou]

My Father’s Daughter. (Chicago PD Fanfiction)

Chapter One; Little One.

Opaque grey eyes stared at her through the mirrors' grime, shaky hands smoothing stringy, matted brown hair. Her pink dress was too big, she kept having to pull at the straps to keep it from slipping off her shoulders. She had told them it was too big but they, he, wanted her to look good for their friends. They should have put her in red not bubblegum pink if they wanted her to look less like a nine year old girl and more like the teenager she was being passed off as.

"малютка, are you ready?" She could only make out his deep brown eyes from the dark corner he stood in but he was friendly, she could feel it. They only called her little one when they were nice. She opened her mouth to respond but the only sound that exited her cupid's bow lips was the blare of a siren.

Her body recognized where she was before her mind did, body in an upright position as she pulled the covers to her chest and tried to calm her racing heart. The mauve walls, the brown bedsheets and lilac duvet were tale tale signs of her bedroom but the fear coursing through her was still trying to seize her. The sirens whizzed by her windows, lights spinning through her room before trailing off as they had since she had moved in a few months ago. She was still adjusting to living so close to the 21st district.

"Jeez," She sighed as she rooted around her nightstand for her might-be-dreams-might-be-memories journal, pulling it and he favourite pen from it's spot and jotting down a few words that she could flesh out when she wasn't so exhausted. A small mewl broke through her focus, her notebook being abandoned for the small ball of fur that lunged into her lap.

"Oh hi little-" Cutting herself off, a flash of her dream floated through her mind as she decided that she needed a new nickname for the small black and grey cat - actually she just needed to name the cat she received as a gift two days ago. "Did you sleep well? Hmm?" The kitten nudged her hand, purring loudly as she closed her ice blue eyes.

"I am taking that as a yes." Giggling, she allowed herself a long moment to bask in the early morning sun filtering through her window, how warm she was in her covers and the feel of the kitten's fur. The weird dream-memories she had been having really messed with her sleep schedule - and her sanity. It was nice to have a moment to herself.

My baby don't mess around, she -

"What do you want?"

"Morning to you too, sunshine."

"Morning, hi, what do you want?" The man on the other side of the call could practically see her widened eyes, scrunched nose and pursed lips as she tried to figure out why he was calling her at 7 a.m.

"Were you asleep?"

"No, kind of, why?" He laughed, knowing she wasn't going to let it go til he told her. She was predictable in a lot of ways, mostly in her ability to be curious of literally everything. She didn't mind being predictable in the slightest; to her, predictability was dependability.

"I have to be at work for the deposition briefing but I was calling to make sure we were still on for dinner tonight but now I'm not so sure." He teased, her eyes rolling as she looked at the calendar on her wall. It was their anniversary tomorrow but seeing as their anniversary was on a Friday, they didn't want to deal with a crowded restaurant so they were celebrating tonight with a nice dinner and spending tomorrow curled up in bed. Of course they were still on for dinner.

"Dyl, do you really have to ask?" She cursed as she stepped out of bed onto her cold hardwood floors, following them to the cold tile bathroom floor. "Of course we are. You, me, Montiago's at 7?" Her heater was pumping as hard as it could but it wasn't doing much to keep out the bitter Chicago chill. She had been perfectly content in her bed but she needed to get ready for work, feed the cat and herself, adult really.

"Yep, can I expect you there at 7:30?"

"I am not always late!" She argued, regretting her decision to wear a sports bra and leggings to bed. "I can be there at 7, promise." She was met with a heart laugh, she could practically see his dimples popping.

"I am only teasing you babe." She could hear someone calling his name as she pulled out her toothbrush from the medicine cabinet, wincing at her appearance in the mirror. It was going to take a lot to fix this. "Hey, I have to go do some work so I can actually afford this dinner but I'll see you in a bit. I love you."

"Yeah, yeah, I love you more." Clicking out of the call, she smiled at her ghastly appearance as she slid the phone into the speaker dock. Dylan Mann was the definition of 'a catch'. He was 25 with bronze skin, jet black hair and piercing green eyes. Not to mention the muscular build, slight stubble and thick rimmed glasses that perched on his nose.

He was an attorney in one of the biggest law firms in Chicago, spending his nights at his private office in the slums of Chicago helping those who couldn't help themselves. He had been raised in the affluent Canaryville but his parents had raised him right, teaching him that money and respect were earned through hardwork. He was smart (4.0 GPA and graduated summa cum laude), tall (like 6' 5" tall), funny (aka sends her memes with the captions 'is this you' or 'same') and somehow head over heels for the girl from the slums he works in - please, why can't he have one flaw? - and who can't remember the first ten years of her life bar weird dream-memory things that no one can confirm.

She was lucky, she knew that.

Turning the shower handle to as hot as it would go, she stripped off her clothes and groaned as it got even colder. Hand brushing the scar she'd had on her right hip that spanned up her side to her ribs that she had, had for as long as she could remember, she sighed to herself. She had no idea what it was from, hopefully some dumb childhood incident that had given her a bad enough concussion to cause memory loss. She didn't know if she could handle it being anything else.

As she stepped into the shower, a small piece of her told her something was off. That something felt out of place. She shouldn't have shrugged it off because if she had just glanced up, she would have noticed the blinds halfway up on the small bathroom window. And perhaps she would have noticed the man peering through it.

-

It had been three years, long and painstaking as they tried to hunt down this guy. Gunner was evasive, smart, calculated and he went underground whenever they got close enough to grab him. It was pissing him off but he had made a mistake, popped up in a recent case and they had the best lead they'd had since Mirabel gave them his street name.

"Listen, you either roll on your good buddy Gunner or go to jail for the murder of his girlfriend Candy and five other victims that we can tie to your group, Hall." Leaning into the man's face, Voight let a smile fall on his lips as he spoke. "One of which was in New York, where they offer the death penalty. Your choice."

"I don't know nothing about them murders or his operation, aight? All I got is a name. Chase Olat, some white boy from the rich sida town. But I ain't ever met him, swear."

"Chase Olat, 27 and just like Hall said he's a rich boy from an affluent family that fell into the wrong crowd. He doesn't have a record but his 'friends' have mile long ones that I assume they took for him." Kim Burgess was the newest member of the Intelligence unit, already proving herself and pushing through any gender and personal grudges. "He doesn't have an address on file but a bunch of his friends have ones on the same block and I figure the best way to keep track of his crew is to live with them."

"Gear up, we bringing him in."

[gyrlversion]

British actress had sex with Warner boss ‘because she fancied him’

The text from billionaire film financier James Packer to his girlfriend, British actress Charlotte Kirk, could not have been clearer. ‘I have the opportunity of a lifetime for u,’ it read. ‘Come to [the hotel] Bel Air now. You will never be able to repay me.’ He was promising to introduce her to ‘the most important man you will ever meet’.

Small-town dreams have always been at the beck and call of Tinseltown’s money and power, and Charlotte, then 21, didn’t hesitate. The film boss to whom she was to get a golden introduction that night was one of Hollywood’s biggest names – Kevin Tsujihara, chairman and CEO of Warner Bros.

She spent an hour with the two men in Packer’s suite in the Bel Air, sharing industry gossip. Before she left, she exchanged phone numbers with Tsujihara, setting in motion a sex-for-auditions scandal which has detonated just as communications giant AT&T completes a £63 billion takeover of Time Warner.

Tsujihara, 56, is under investigation and has had to apologise publicly to every one of his employees as well as, one assumes, his wife.

British actress Charlotte Kirk (pictured) became involved with Warner boss Kevin Tsujihara 

Charlotte has been portrayed as a modern-day Becky Sharp, the Vanity Fair heroine who cynically uses her looks and charm to secure advancement. The Hollywood casting couch looks as rumpled as ever and accusations of extortion, blackmail, lying and hypocrisy have all followed.

Most toxic of all is industry speculation that the undoubted charms of Charlotte were used as a sweetener for a £350 million film deal Packer’s company was doing with Warner. (Denials by all parties have done little to quell this gossip.)

Until now, Charlotte has publicly protected Tsujihara and her own reputation by denying anything improper passed between. Today, however, she admits they did become lovers after an evening drinking Grey Goose martinis in a West Hollywood boutique hotel. That was in February 2014 and they met up for a second time before the incipient affair fizzled out.

There is speculation that Charlotte’s charms were used as a ‘sweetener’ for boyfriend James Packer’s £350 million film deal

It would have remained their private business but for the fact that a sensational string of texts covering a three-year period from 2014 to 2017 have been published by The Hollywood Reporter.

Their contents – the actress asking for help to get auditions, Tsujihara agreeing, Packer and his business partner Brett Ratner trying to help him back out and keep Charlotte quiet – serve to drag the actress, the movie boss, the billionaire financier and his partner into an imbroglio from which no one emerges well.

‘It was not casting-couch sex,’ says Charlotte, 26, and back in London preparing to shoot a new movie. ‘Kevin might have thought I was on his casting couch but my sense of self-worth is such that I thought I was just having sex with a man I fancied. Like any normal women, I kept on good terms and in touch afterwards.

‘Hollywood pivots on helpful friends. You can talk to someone differently after you have been intimate with them. There is a connection. You don’t say, “Get me a role”, but you expect openness and honesty when you have been lovers and you expect them to be there for you as a friend. In my case, that meant him potentially directing me towards auditions, helping me get into the room.

‘Whatever work I got from an audition would be on my own professional acting ability and merit.’

Charlotte’s career was indeed flourishing with roles in blockbuster movies Ocean’s 8 with Cate Blanchett and Sandra Bullock and How To Be Single alongside Dakota Johnson and Rebel Wilson.

‘If I’d been a man I would have had a pat on the back,’ she says. ‘Instead, because I am a young woman, I am accused of being a slut and a conniving, calculating one at that. Women like powerful men. Power is attractive – anyone who doesn’t believe that needs to look at the history of Hollywood or politics or big business. I liked Kevin, there was chemistry.

The leaked text messages included the actress asking Kevin Tsujihara (right) for help to get auditions, and James Packer (left) and his business partner Brett Ratner (centre) trying to help him back out and keep Charlotte quiet

‘Los Angeles is full of very talented people working in bars, not in front of cameras. They are never discovered, sadly. Luck plays a part in making it. So does timing. The stars have to be aligned.’

However, it’s clear that by September 2014, the studio boss was becoming evasive.

‘I value myself, I have sufficient confidence in who I am to think I shouldn’t not matter to someone else, however wealthy and powerful they are. I did not come this far’ – she means from her working-class Kent roots – ‘to be treated as though I’m disposable as a friend.’

It’s hard to square this sense of self-worth with a young woman who admits she’s turned on by older, powerful men undoubtedly in a position to advance her career.

What’s more admirable is that, having had choices she squared with her own conscience made explosively public, she has chosen not to hide behind the MeToo movement and fake a victimhood that she clearly does not feel. ‘That would cheapen all the men and women who have genuinely been exploited. That’s not me. I had a relationship with Kevin because I wanted to.’

‘Hollywood pivots on helpful friends. You can talk to someone differently after you have been intimate with them. There is a connection. You don’t say, “Get me a role”, but you expect openness and honesty,’ says Kirk

There are perhaps three elements at work which help explain this almost reckless honesty – most notably seen in her heartfelt texts, many of which she now regrets.

First, Charlotte is on the autistic spectrum, having been diagnosed with Asperger’s syndrome when she was six. She doesn’t think before she speaks and she doesn’t do social nuance, either face to face or verbally. She believes what she is told and has rigid expectations.

‘I don’t use it as an excuse but I guess it might explain some things,’ she says ruefully.

Second, she’s been slugging it out in Hollywood since she arrived there as an Italia Conti-trained hopeful aged just 19. Her mother is a carer, her father an electrician. She was raised in Bexley and only turned to drama as a way of helping her cope with her Asperger’s. She remains determined to make it in Hollywood. ‘They [Packer, Ratner and Tsujihara] may be rich and powerful but they massively underestimated me,’ she says.

Third, and most curiously, was Charlotte’s genuine relationship with Packer, the son of Australian media tycoon Kerry Packer now perhaps best known for his failed engagement to singer Mariah Carey.

By Charlotte’s account, theirs was a full-blown seven-month romance which, when it ended, broke her heart. The night she received the Bel Air text from Packer, it came at a time when he was returning her calls and messages less frequently.

She was just 20 when she met him at an industry party where Warren Beatty was the VIP guest. Packer, more than twice her age, called her the next day and in a scene straight from the Pretty Woman playbook, said he wanted to take her shopping. ‘You can have whatever you want,’ he told her. ‘Cars, clothes…’ Soon they were on Rodeo Drive, LA’s most prestigious shopping street.

He bought his date a £50,000 diamond-encrusted Rolex she admired and would have bought more but, Charlotte says, she stopped him.

A week later she became Packer’s girlfriend and spent many happy hours with him in the Bel Air. ‘It was a proper relationship, I wasn’t hidden away, we were cosy together, lying on the bed watching a movie and sharing a bag of Haribos,’ she says. Their pet name for each other was Boo. This is the hinterland to that ‘opportunity of a lifetime’ text which came within days of Packer and Ratner, a producer and director with major credits on films such as Leonardo DiCaprio’s The Revenant and Johnny Depp’s Black Mass, concluding their deal with Warner.

‘That was my Cinderella story. I loved James. I thought we had a future. Since when was Cinders criticised for running off with her prince?’ she says. It’s telling, however, that when Packer met a woman he really did want to spend the rest of his life with – Carey – he presented her with a £10 million 35-carat diamond engagement ring.

Kevin Tsujihara (pictured) apologized to WarnerMedia staff on Friday after his alleged affair with British actress Charlotte Kirk was exposed

Back then, Charlotte was scrabbling on the foothills of fame with appearances in some films that she admits she’d be happy to forget. But she had also enjoyed other more substantial projects, including a Bruce Willis movie, before she encountered Tsujihara.

After her split from Packer, Charlotte was free to network as she chose with Tsujihara: he was married but she was unattached.

She was saddened by the end of her relationship and believed herself to be on the rebound. Her texts to Tsujihara, though, do not make for savoury reading: ‘You’re very busy I know but when we were in that motel having sex u said u would help me and when u just ignore me like you are doing now it makes me feel used. Are u going to help me like u said?’

His response – ‘Sorry you feel that way, [an executive] will be reaching out to you tonight’ – suggests he was initially keen. There are many others between them, ranging from flirty to demanding. There are also screeds between Charlotte and Packer and Ratner, with both demanding that she stopped asking for Tsujihara’s help. Some appear to show Charlotte complaining she’d been used as ‘the icing on the cake’ for the finance deal between the trio, saying ‘It’s gross what you all did to me.’

Today she says she does not believe this to be true. ‘I don’t recognise some of the texts and I believe they may have been doctored. Certainly, they have been chosen and weaponised for their lascivious value and taken out of context. I said some stupid things. Everyone speaks in the heat of the moment and says stuff they don’t mean. You say something face to face and it’s gone – in a text it is there for ever.

‘I might have felt used at the time but I don’t now. Not at all. I was sad it ended badly. I did not pick a fight but I had to fight when one was brought to me. I was not intimidated or embarrassed and my real regret is that those friendships turned out be fragile.’ Indeed they did, with Packer eventually telling her: ‘Get back in your box.’

The key question is who released the texts which hurt Charlotte and must surely threaten Tsujihara’s ascendancy within the new power structure at Warner Media. She adamantly claims they were stolen from her phone by a former friend who knew of her relationships with Packer and Tsujihara and betrayed her. Industry sources suggest she leaked them herself in a headline-grabbing act of vengeance, but she says: ‘I didn’t. That would have been an act of supreme self-sabotage.’

The texts emerged in 2017, but Tsujihara denied them. They surfaced again a year later but an inquiry revealed no sign of misconduct. Now the executive has been forced to admit ‘mistakes in his personal life and embarrassment to the company’. Last night, a Warner spokesman said: ‘As far as any personal details relating to Mr Tsujihara, we wouldn’t comment.’

Charlotte said: ‘This was a regrettable period when I was young and naive. I’m a professional and I work tirelessly to improve my craft.’

She has just finished shooting Nicole And O J, a movie about O J Simpson, in which she has the lead female role. She is also developing a writing career and will soon start filming a movie called The Reckoning with British Game Of Thrones director Neil Marshall.

‘It’s about an innocent woman being persecuted for being a witch,’ says Charlotte. ‘Talk about ironic.’

Sensational texts with a film backer 

After meeting Tsujihara in early 2014, Charlotte texts Packer: ‘His [sic] not very nice. He just wants to ****, nothing else, does not even want to say anything!’

March 2014, Tsujihara to Charlotte: ‘I’ve got a dinner in santa monica next Thursday night – u want to meet up after?? We’re also beginning to cast some cable tv pilots.’

September 2014, Charlotte to Tsujihara: ‘So your going to speak with Richard [Hollywood producer Richard Brener]?’

October 2014, Charlotte to Packer: ‘Putting me in one of your many movies shouldn’t be a big deal… I did help u out with Kevin which was hard for me but I did it for you.’

When Charlotte then threatened legal action, Packer replied: ‘Can’t wait tough girl… Get back in your box or let’s fight.’

March 2015, Charlotte to Tsujihara: ‘When we were in that motel having sex u said u would help me and when u just ignore me – it makes me feel used.’ 

The post British actress had sex with Warner boss ‘because she fancied him’ appeared first on Gyrlversion.

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Where can I get auto insurance at a reasonable rate in the GTA?

I am a teen driver and just got my G2 license, and I'd like to buy a car (I'm in school and I have a job) but would like to know if I could find reasonable insurance rates ($0 - $150 MAX) in and around the Greater Toronto Area. Please list companies or brokers. Thanks in advance.""

What are a few cars that are cheap to insure and cheap to run for a 17 year old?

Wanting to know 4 or 5 cars that you think are ideal for a 17 year to insure and be able to run?

Can you pay car insurance for the whole year at once?

i see that many people pay per month, can i pay the whole year? and also for an 18 year old how much would insurance cost?""

Is my car insurance in place.?

basically i applied for a car insurance and in the quote i put in a false licence held date as i only had my licence a month ago but i put in march 2012. They have taken the deposit of 300 already from my account so does that mean i got away with the lie about the licence held date and does that mean my insurance will be in place soon. I lied because i think insurance is cheaper if you have old licence. thanks

Is it possible to cancel my car insurance?

I am a new driver and I have to pay around $135 a month. I am a guy by the way so this may be why it is so high. I have a job, but it's part time and doesn't pay well. I don't plan on driving the car often, just to school and work only 2-3 days a week and taking the bus the other days. I also do not plan on driving in the winter months. Is it possible to cancel my insurance while keeping my license from Dec. to March? My policy is under my parents and we have an extra car that just sits in the garage and it's the one I drive. Also, the insurance people said I could wait until January to lower my insurance rate to $110. I like the idea, but I don't want to wait hehe. Can I cancel my insurance then return to it a couple months later?""

18 year old car insurance quotes?

I passed my driving test 2 months ago live in a small village and have a full time job i am 18 years old.recently i have been looking around for car insurance quotes for the obvious 1st cars 106s,corsas etc and the lowest quote iv had is still over 3 grand these are all of compare sites aswell as admiral quinn and direct line, surely this carnt be right? this is on my own insurance as the main policy holder, because apparently you carnt go on your parents insurance anymore. would appreciate any help Thanks""

I need cheap auto insurance fast ! Can you recommend a good place ?

Also , can they start coverage for the month previous ? Thank you.

Does anyone know which agency has the cheapest car insurance for liability?

Does anyone know which agency has the cheapest car insurance for liability?

Does Obama think $600 per month is a low price for health insurance?

Does Obama think $600 per month is a low price for health insurance?

Short Term health care insurance plan in California?

I am looking to get insurance for a short period of time - 2 months. Which plan and provider be appropriate ?

Buying Car Insurance Help?

ive called a few companies... usual 300+ Down and 200+ Monthly... they keep asking me if i have car insurance Now.. should i lie and say yes i do..and give em my amazingly Low rates from my last insurance... which was 1/2 of the one they are trying to sell me..?

What are the best/ cheapest private health insurance providers in wisconsin?

23 yr old male, good health medical, dental, and vision plans? Thanks!""

Car title and insurance question?

If my name was put on the title of a car (I'm 18), would it affect the insurance rates even if the car was insured under my parent's policy as a occasional driver? Does the insurance company have the right to change the rates on a car depending solely on whose name is on the title?""

Car insurance fraud am i paying too much ?

we got a new car out of the dealer and as u know it requires u to get full coverage.we went to are present insurance witch i had my 3000gt i asked if i could add the new car the guy who got us the insurance,he told us we needed to pay down payment again witch is weird when i wanted to add my 3000gt to my dads insurance they did not charge the down payment.but we also dont have licence and shes 23 and i am 25""

Low Cost Health Insurance (Indiana)?

I was apart of the Medicaid program but then some way some how lost my eligibility for the program. I am 24, and do not smoke. All of the companies I have looked at quotes for are way to high. While I know it is ridiculous to think that I will receive a monthly payment as low as I was receiving while I had Medicaid, which was only $16 a month, I need to find a company, and plan that provides coverage to low income individuals fresh out of college that don't have a lot of money to spend. It would be nice if it was under $50 and still managed to cover most of the things that I need, generic drug coverage, and doctor office visits. Does anyone have a clue where and how I would be able obtain some kind of insurance that will not bankrupt me in the process? And my employer is not an option because they do not offer benefits packages. Please help!!""

I was in an auto accident without insurance. What am I facing?

I was in a car accident yesterday. I live in California. I had no insurance at the time, although I was unaware that my girlfriend had not sent in my quarterly paryment and was actually driving without insurance for almost 3 months. The day after the accident I went in to the Highway Patrol's office and spoke to the officer who took the report and informed him I discovered I had no insurance. He didnt seem all that concerned and thanked me for going in. As for the accidnet itself, I belief I will be found at fault as I did not brake in time and rear end a small car who in turn hit the car infront of her. I was traveling at about 30 mph when I started to brake and I heard the firefighter at the seen tell the chp he thought it was 25-30 mph. If anyone could tell me what I am facing legally and finacially. I read online I will automatically have a one year driver's license suspension. Is this accurate and is this all? WIll I ge a ticked or fine? I would also like for someone to rule out jail time. The driver immediately infront of me had good damage to the back of her car and was taken to the hospital with minor injuries. Her daughter called me the day after the accident and told me she was at her house but wanted her car fixed soon because she wanted to return home in another state. I suggested she call her own insurance and let them know I was inot insured. THe other driver in front and her passenger were also taken to the hospital with minor injuries and their car had minor damage when I looked at it at the time of the accident. I have not heard from them. Financially can anyone tell me what I am facing? I understand I will be responsible, but I also understand that the other parties' insurances will have to cover their own drivers. If so will I simply be responsible for their deductable. I am more concerned with the legal aspects than the financial. I am an single father of three and need to be there for my kids. Thank you to whoever can help!""

Do insurance rates really increase depending on if you drive a coupe or a sedan?

I heard insurance companies charged more to cover a teen who drives a coupe than a 4 door sedan.

Can you register car w/o insurance & 1967 Mustang Steering wheel..?

I do not have my license or permit yet. I plan to have my permit by early September. I don't plan on insuring the car until September or Feburuary but can I REGISTER the car before I get insurance? (So it won't get towed.. does that ever really happen?) How much would a 1967 wheel cost and how much to have it installed?

Do I need to buy additional car insurance when renting a car?

I have full coverage with State Farm but I wasn't sure if I had to purchase additional insurance when I rent the car or does my policy handle renting a car? I have full coverage right now and I will only need the car for the weekend.

Can a dealership sell you a car without car insurance?

I bought a car, thinking I had car insurance, and I want out. I didn't put any money down, yet i signed the paperwork and drove off the lot with the car. I brought back the same day, but of course they didn't take it back. Can they hold me to the loan if i didnt have car insurance and i have no job? I am only 19 and want a way out.""

Affordable Health Insurance for Student in MA?

Hi, if you go to school in MA, you would know that the insurance company offered by school are overpriced. I'm looking for affordable, low-cost, health insurance for college student in Massachusetts. Thank you.""

Can my car and I be added to my boyfriends car insurance policy?

I'm buying a car tomorrow and insurance for myself only is going to be over a $100 a month. If I get added to someones policy its wayyy cheaper. My boyfriend has progressive insurance. Could my car and I be added to his policy?

Is it a legal requirement to advise your car insurance company of a speeding fine?

My 24 year old son has his car insurance renewal coming up soon, and unfortunately he picked up a fixed penalty speeding fine and 3 points on his licence for this first misdemeanour he has had in 4 years of driving. With his insurance still over 1000 for a 10 year old Rover 25! he doesn't really want anything to make this cost any more (it's not as if it is a serious offence). However, I have told him it is best to advise his insurance company of this offence as if they find out in future renewal years he has withheld this information, he may be penalised worse. What's the legal standpoint on this matter? Keep schtum or confess?""

Re. Car insurance?

Anyone work in insurance buisness? I have 2 cars, my mobilty car and a smaller car. I origionally bought it for my wife as she doesnt like driving my mobility car as its too big. I was advised by insurers to keep car in my name, Using my insurance in my name with my wife as a named driver and my 18 year old son who as of yet cannot afford a car as he is attending college and only gets 30 a week EMA if he attends. My wife and I want to give him the car as a joint 18th and christmas present. Now I am stuck if I hand ownership to him and he is pressured into taking out his own policy, my insurance that I have built up over nearly 35 years will possibly be voided and if I need to insure another car in next 3 years after my mobility car is handed back, I may loose my max NCD. Can I legally keep car in my name also my insurance and make him a named main driver, my wife as second and me as third. I have life threatening illnesses and want to give my kids their own cars. cont'd""

Car insurance?

i have a license and live in CT and i have a question about insurance the web page says the vehicles should be insured. my dad and mom have insurance for their them but i dont so i dont have to get insurance because the vehicle is insured? or everyone should have insurance who drives on the road?

Looking for individual dental insurance?

I'm trying to find an affordable good dental insurance company. I've looked online quite a bit and can only find insurance with a 6 mos waiting period or a dental plan that you pay like $100 a year for a discount which seem useles. I'm 30 and live in Ohio if that makes any difference. Any help would be greatly appreciated!

Anyone know pricing on auto insurance for a Cadillac CTS 2003?

Anyone know pricing on auto insurance for a Cadillac CTS 2003?

Car insurance!! :(?

Right...Passed my test.. got myself a lovely corsa sri 1.4 16v But i cant get it bloody insured with a good quote! Best ive found was quinn-direct with 2700 per year.. thats with pass plus? does anyone know some really good car insurance companies that will insure me for that kinda car? baring in mind im only 17 =[ Thankssss.. Any help greatly appreciated!

Get medical insurance or pay out of pocket ???

currently live in Southern California and work part-time with no medical coverage. I was recently accepted to NYU College of Dentistry and will be moving there in July. Before that though, I need to get physical & immunizations. I will definitely get medical insurance once I move out there, but my concern is before that time. Things I need for sure: Physical, TB skin test, Hep. B, and Meningitis immunizations. My question is: Should I purchase a short-term insurance coverage to get the necessary physical/immuzations done or should I just do it out-of-pocket. Also, if it is worth getting insurance for this period, would you guys please recommend couple of plans for me. ( I am 24, Male, non-smoker). THnaks in advance.""

Does my fully comp learner-driver car insurance cover the accompanying driver or must they be insured too?

I hold a UK Provisional Drivers License. I am insured (fully comprehensive) on my own car. Does the fully licenced driver which I have to have with me at all times have to be insured to drive my car as well (either as a named driver or covered by their own insurance to drive any car) or will my fully comp insurance cover them too? Please no answers telling me about compare sites as I am already insured, I just want more info as to whether my companion driver is covered by this. (I recently asked a similar question and got nothing but links to compare sites so decided to be more precise)""

Car insurance does anyone know of an inurance company that is both cheap and reliable?

having had a dispute with my insurance company i was advised by the office of fair trading to cancel my car insurance policy and reclaim I only own a small car and having searched the internet i find that i can not find insurance for less than 500. Does anyone know of a reputable insurance company that is cheap and reliable?

Whats the average price on owning a 125cc bike a month?

Im planning on buying a honda cbr 125cc bike and pay it up over three years im wondering if anyone knows the average cost of running this bike including insurance price of the bike and road tax and fuel. Im 20 years old if that helps with the insurance thanks.

I need cheap auto insurance fast ! Can you recommend a good place ?

Also , can they start coverage for the month previous ? Thank you.

UK car insurance groups?

Is there a website or some kind of directory that will tell me the costs of different insurance groups? I'm shopping around for a second-hand car and a lot of cars are listed as insurance group 7 or insurance group 14 etc etc, but I don't know what that means, I've been entering the details individually of cars that I'm interested in, but that quite laborious.""

""Car Insurance, i passed my Drving test yesterday,Insurance Premiums?""

I live in Manchester(longsight), passed test yesterday, age:17...,can anyone plz tell me that how much will be the insurance premium for me(new driver), i asked from some of the insurers and most of them told that my insurance premium will be at least 2000. is it? Can any one tell me about some cheap insurance company who's price is 1000 or near about. Thanks.""

Where does the money go that everyone pays for car insurance?

If I pay $100 a month for car insurance for 20 years that's $24,000. I know 5 people in my family who pay approximately that so that's about $120,000. So with everyone who drives pays about that, where does all that money go? To pay for car wrecks? Government? What? (No, I've never had a wreck or used the insurance to pay for anything)""

""If you take drivers ed online, will it still reduce your insurance cost?

I am fifteen almost sixteen and i want to take drivers ed online instead of during the school year. If i take it online will it still reduce my insurance cost? I also live in the state of Montana.

Insurance and Driver License MN?

I just started my policy with 21 insurance and I moved from home to my grandma to now to chaska. Which is closer for work. Im getting a new driver license. But I told the insurance company my old address since I didn't get the new card for driver license. Is this bad will my rate go up ? I told the insurance company I work 3 days a week and its 45 min one way. But now im closer to work.

Young drivers car insurance?

Okay i know this has probably been asked alot but here here it is, im 19 and passed my test last month, ive been searching round on some sites but cant find anything for under 5000. Does anybody know what car is cheapest and through which insurer?""

What insurance group?

I'm interested in the Mazda RX8 but would like to know the insurance group without having to go for a quote. I'm not looking at a specific car just love the cars and am interested.

Do we need land lord insurance?

A close family friend is living in a property that have been left to my brothers, sister and myself by our mum but not paying rent do we need to get landlord insurance.""

Best time to buy car insurance renewal?

my car insurance runs out on the 28th of this month and i'm planning to change companies. when is the best time to buy it (going to pay it off in full), now to start on the 28th or closer to the time like the week before to start on the 28th? is there any difference in price?""

How does and underage affect insurance?

A friend of mine was just charged with an underage but was accepted into the ARD program. We are wondering how this is going to affect her auto insurance policy.

Can i change my car insurance over to a new car after 2months ?

Is this possible and how does it work ? Can i change it over , let me know please , Thanks I have car that i only plan on having for 2months and then getting new car , is it easy to change it over to new car and what does it cost ?""

In texas can they deny u car insurance?

I got a new car today and my bf got a ticket in my old car today. I heard if u have an unpaid ticket than I cant get car insurance on my new car... Is tht tru

What is another way to say free insurance seminar ?

My insurance office is going to host a seminar to the public explaining personal lines (home, auto, commercial...) insurance coverage. What is a catchy headline for the flyer?""

Im looking for a car thats as fast as any normal 1.6 but is cheap on insurance?

Im 20 years old and i am looking for a car with the same acceleration or bhp as a normal 1.6 normal but i would like one that's cheaper on insurance

""I'm 17, can a go under my parents insurance for my car?""

Hi, im going to buy my first car soon, im looking at a Pergeot 106, with a 1.4L engine. I've had a quote to insure it under my name, and lets say it's more than i can afford. So i know it's cheeper to under my parents insurance. Is this safe and how much would it cost for this car im looking at? My parents havnt had any crashes if this helps? Thanks so much""

Car insurance help please ?

hi i know if you want alloys on your car you have to let your insurance know and they will charge you more but im after a vauxhall corsa sxi and they come with alloys as standard so should i mention i got alloys or will the quote already include that...... thanks.

Is there a website where I can use a calculator to get an estimated insurance quote for a car I may buy?

I want to figure in the insurance as part of my outlay in this purchase without a bunch of insurance agents harassing me, calling me, emailing me and so forth. It would help me make the final decision on which vehicle I purchase.""

Explanation for Insurance quote in Oregon?

Hi folks, I just moved to Oregon from CA. I got a quote from State Farm which suits my need. I just got a quote from an agent. She mentioned something like this in the quote. I have me and my wife as drivers. Automobile liability with W/P $25000 50/100/50. I mean to ask what does W/P $25000 mean? Is it mandatory to have PIP in Oregon? Thanks for your help.""

""I am looking for a good,affordable place to rent out to throw a party.In sacramento and surrounding areas?""

Does anybody know a good place.I just want to have fun and make sure people are safe ,but at an affordable price ?""

Do i need ful coverage if i have GAP insurance?

I just financed a new car and i got GAP insurance. Here in California u MUST have insurance on all vehicles. Since i purchased GAP, do i NEED full coverage or will liability be ok?""

Whats the best car insurance for young drivers?

I'm 16 and about to get my license and have been looking for cars online. my parents said i can have a a mustang V6 if i can save up for it (which i can) and yes, i realize insurance can be kinda high for mustangs but read somewhere that the 1996-2000 mustangs aren't AS MUCH to insure. i was just wondering if anyone knew of what the best car insurance was for young drivers.""

Is it cheaper for a first time driver to insure a van?

Hello, If I were to buy my first car, the insurance is about 3k at lowest of the low. But do you think a van would be cheaper? Can a 17 year old get van insurance?""

""How much money do you pay for insurance, and what is your age?""

I am 21 years old and I just got my license.I use to be a listed driver on my mother's geico policy a couple of years ago.But, I got caught driving without a parent in the car and my learners permit wa suspended. I now live in a diffrent state and have a license. I went on geico.com and my quote was $155 with the license violation included. I am pretty surprised because I thought people my age pay well over $200 for their policy. Maybe it is low because I was once an insured driver under my mother's policy?""

What motorcycle security products give the biggest insurance discount?

Hi there, I'm looking to buy and insure my first motorbike in the nest few weeks so have been getting some quotes from insurance companies. There are so many chains/locks/immobilisers and alarms to choose from I am wondering what people use themselves, and if they can make a big saving on insurance prices. My insurance is obviously high as it's my first year, but I would like to try and keep costs down and also my bike secure :) Thanks""

Will my car isurance be cheaper if Im a second driver on someone else's policy?

My insurnce got terminated due to ONE missed payment, I tried talking to my previous insurers but to no avail, I have a claim still to be resolved, hence any new quote is coming bak with ridiulous premiums. So I was wondering if I add my name as second driver on someone else's policy will it be cheaper? Please help. I need to get back on the road as soon as possible, my job depends on it.""

I need cheap auto insurance fast ! Can you recommend a good place ?

Also , can they start coverage for the month previous ? Thank you.

https://www.linkedin.com/pulse/car-insurance-discrimination-simon-kinch"