#talk to my mom because i need her insurance

[woobifykamukura]

(sending an ask instead of reblogging that post again)

Assigning you Just Evil. I feel like you'd be a discourse character.

oh bro you are so on the money its insane. like not to hashtag traumadump but i had a bit of an Unusual Disposition surrounding my abusive mother in my teenhood (read: i would hit her and actively wanted her dead and be very open about the fact that i never loved her)

this was legitimatley a contentious topic among various friendgroups ive had over the years. to this day i dont understand why (shes my mom not yours, at least im not a doormat unlike you people, she treats me like shit so why cant i treat her like shit back, etc) other than "violence and murder is scary so people have a knee jerk reaction to it"

but it was legit A Topic Of Discussion, so much so that once someone started a whole argument IN A PUBLIC SERVER about how since i had detailed fantasies about killing my mom, that i a) would 100% do it without a doubt and b) this was a bad thing. like bro i wish but unfortunatley the police exists

and that's just a) the historic stuff that b) anyone with sense will agree is a total banger move on my part. i feel like ive gotten even more contentious over the years. the stuff i do with soulbonds would curl toes (but most people dont think that shit is real or it matters so i get away with it 🎉)

all this to say that u are 100% right and i would be the kokichi 😔

[bijoumikhawal]

I'm gonna get my mother

[buysomecheese]

Crazy question + I'm not expecting much response but. DOes anyone have experience in signing up for medical insurance. Specifically Medicaid and specifically New York Medicaid. Even more specifically as a student. Bonus points if you're transgender and on HRT

[cleolinda]

Phone scam gothic

So my mom sits down and starts telling me about two weird-ass phone calls she had today—she was returning a missed call, and the woman who answered just… sobbed for a minute. I’m sitting here asking, like, a whole minute? Nothing else, just sobbing? Who did you THINK you were calling back?

“United Healthcare, they have my Medicare plan. They’ve been calling me for weeks without leaving any voicemail.”

(Are you sure it was United Healthcare? “It was the same number that’s on my card, I checked, and that’s who the caller ID said it was.”)

Are you sure it was a whole minute? Did YOU say anything?

“Yes, like sixty seconds while I kept going ‘Hello? Hello?’ It sounded like she was having a nervous breakdown, I kept waiting to see if she’d tell me what was even wrong. Finally I just hung up.”

And then my mom turned right around and called back again, because she was gonna get to the bottom of this.

This time she got a different woman, perfectly calm, who wanted to set up “your in-home direct patient care home health visit.”

At this point (at this point?) I’m staring, because no one here currently has anyone coming to the house to help with any kind of medical care. My mom might honestly be the healthiest member of the household, but even I don’t use any home services, herniated discs and all. “Did they have you… confused with someone else?”

“No, she repeated my full name and phone number back to me.”

This lady then started ARGUING with my mother. Why don’t you want us to come to your house to manage your direct patient care? Don’t you need home health care to be managed? Why don’t you need home health care? Why would you not want home health care? “I JUST KIND OF HAVE HIGH CHOLESTEROL?” But don’t you want us to manage your home health care? “WHY DO YOU NEED TO COME TO MY HOUSE TO MANAGE HEALTH CARE I DON’T USE?”

My mom finally hung up on this lady as well, without giving her any real information.

The more we talked about it, the more things we started to notice:

I was incredibly creeped out by the unsolicited use of the word “manage,” for some reason. Very sinister “write me into your will” vibes for some reason—I don’t know what these people want, but they’re gonna get you to sign something over.

My mom got especially stuck on “WHY DO YOU NEED TO COME TO MY HOUSE?!”

My mom has used home health services before… years ago, before she was on Medicare. But this company wouldn’t know about that. However, if you’re on Medicare, you’re over 65. Having not ever dealt with my mother before, someone calling a Medicare user might be playing the odds that a person over 65 is 1) in frail health and 2) old enough to get easily confused.

Fair play to my mom, she’s the one who thought of number spoofing. I’m so busy not answering the phone ever and arranging all my medical communications to happen through passworded portals that I didn’t think of it.

Hey, are you guys, like… holding someone hostage…?

So at this point, I google “United Healthcare scam.”

The “health insurance counselor”

This fraudster will offer help navigating the health insurance marketplace for a fee, capitalizing on people’s confusion about the state-based health exchanges created through the Affordable Care Act.

What to know

This sort of assistance is indeed available and is legitimate, but the people who offer it – also known as “navigators” – aren’t allowed to charge for their services. Also, remember that people with Medicare coverage don’t need to use the state health exchanges. The exchanges are for people under the age of 65, who are looking to enroll in an individual health plan.

Change “navigate” to “manage,” and I think this is it, although the lady on the phone never mentioned any fees. Either my mom didn’t let her get that far, or this is the point of actually getting into someone’s house: persuading them face-to-face to pay something, and potentially refusing to leave until the scammer has worn their target down.

Medicare does not make unsolicited phone calls.

Okay, so it was a scam no matter what it was about. As far as I’m concerned, my mom should contact Actual United Healthcare about it, and I’m here to spread the good word of Never Believing Anyone on the Phone 2k24. I don’t know what to tell you about the lady having the nervous breakdown though.

[theood]

I've been making so many adult phone calls recently and now Im playing will my doctor fill my t prescription, they haven't gotten back to me I've been off T since the day after my one month mark, they needed PA for my insurance to cover it, "we'll get back to you in one to two business days" it's been much longer, the pharmacy wont tell me when PA is required leaving me to wait longer, I still don't have a job, I have to call my doctor tomorrow to ask whats going on. If I get told anything with my insurance is fucky, that the PA didn't go through, I have to pay out of pocket I can't afford my T. I was so fucking happy to start it, I was over the moon I FELT happier, I was so excited to wake up every day, I haven't felt like that in so long and it all got torn from under me and I am trying to hard to stay positive and that it will all be okay because it HAS to be okay because I chose to live, because I chose to keep going, because I want to be alive, but all of this really takes it toll and I am just tired. I am so tired of being the adult. I've been playing adult for so long I want to step back and I cant and I have to keep going because that's just life and I just want one stable thing again

I want to be on T again. I want to be happy. I want to be myself. I chose to be happy why is that so hard too keep

[cardentist]

"yes trans mascs experience transphobia, but there's no such thing as trans mascs experiencing bigotry Specifically Related to them being men/from being related to men"

my mom, after some time sorting her feelings and sifting through trans resources, was accepting of my being a trans person. it took work, but it happened. she sought out trans media from trans people, she took initiative to inform other family members and put herself between me and them.

and she completely refused to even start the process of Maybe getting me on testosterone for 10 years, until I aged out of being covered by her health insurance and couldn't afford to do it myself.

Specifically And Entirely because she was terrified that testosterone was going to make me an angry, violent person. that it was going to, in her own word, "give me roid rage."

for years she made vague pantomimes about eventually seeing about transitioning, but That reasoning would still come up no matter how I tried to explain it to her otherwise.

I am not a particularly violent person, if maybe stubborn. but that didn't matter. what Mattered is that my mother had a preconceived notion of what testosterone does, what Masculinity Does, and that notion was an inherently negative, scary one.

and Because Of That I was denied access to resources That I Need for Years. something that has carried over into the rest of my adult life.

and I see sentiments like hers online, even and sometimes Especially in trans spaces, all the time.

this vision of men as inherently violent, of masculinity as inherently dangerous, and the onus placed in the laps of Trans Men (and often, on Trans Boys) to diminish and shrink themselves to Prove that they're non-threatening enough to be tolerated.

and it bares pointing out that this Isn't just something that affects trans men. trans Women are just as affected by this association with maleness as an inherently corrupting factor. and so to are butch women and nonbinary people presented as violent and scary.

likewise, I see Similar sentiments pushed at butches and trans mascs that it's their job to Protect other people within the queer community, that image of violence and anger filtered through a softer light designating their Use. you're Allowed to be a Scary Masculine Creature as long as you dedicate yourself to protecting the weaker frailer other (which is, you know. Sexist And Weird).

but it's like. people don't Want to think about different kinds of trans and gnc people having overlapping experiences, so instead people like to decide which Kind of people are allowed to have this experience and cut other sorts of people out of those conversations.

it's not about what a particular person's gender or presentation Is, it's how that person Is Perceived and the way that they're treated Because Of that perception. sometimes this transphobia that fears masculinity looks like a perception of scary men trying to pretend to be women, sometimes it looks like a perception of women Becoming scary men, and everything that lies in between (with combinations therein).

finding a term that is used to describe this is Useful not just for giving trans mascs a way to talk about their experiences without encroaching on other conversations about transness. but Also in giving us words to describe a specific phenomenon that Can affect All trans people (and gnc people, and genderqueer people, etc), but that is difficult for us to recognize as a shared experience because people seem to think that sharing experiences is either impossible or a bad thing.

[lunaraindrop]

We Are Not the Kissing Space Twins (part 2)

Fic by lunaraindrop

Well, you asked for it! Let's find out about Steve's secret twin!

The red numbers mocked her as her digital clock blinked over to 4:27 pm.

Robin's nerves were frazzled like the feather on her band uniform.

Tonight was supposed to be a fun night! Vickie had asked her last week if she wanted to come over to her house and have a movie marathon...and a sleepover. Of course she jumped at the chance! (Steve had said, excitedly and with way too many winks that Vickie was putting the moves on her.)

Robin had not known if it was a "friend movie marathon" or a "i-like-you-makeout movie marathon", but she had prepared for both.

But then Vickie called her earlier that afternoon to postpone. Apparently, her entire family got a stomach bug, and their house was a cesspool for germs.

Bummed, Robin tried to think of something else to do.

Hanging with Steve was out. His parents decided to grace him with their *lovely* presence after four months away on "business." They insisted on having a "family dinner." Steve always gets ultra stressed when he has to do the staunchy dinners in The Harrington Dining Room with the real silver, cloth napkins, and the Fine China that cost probably as much as his car. Telling him that her "maybe date" was off was just going to disappoint him too.

Eddie wasn't going to be any fun, either. All Eddie would do would be pine over Steve, try to sneak in a smoke, and eat whipped cream out of a can.

Nancy was spending the day with Jonathan. The kids made sure they all had things to do because Steve couldn't take them anywhere.

Then she had what she thought was a great idea. She could get her learner's permit! She had studied the written test bookelett front to back, as well as gone over all the driving rules and tricks with Steve and Eddie.

She wasn't working that day, and she was completely free. Perfect timing! All she had to do was get her birth certificate.

Which...proved to be harder than she thought.

Robin paced her bedroom, probably wearing a path in the carpet.

She never caught on that her parents were reluctant to give her her birth certificate. When she would suggest getting her permit or license, they would talk about how they couldn't afford to have her driving. A car and insurance cost a lot of money. Then they would guilt trip her into not driving at all with fears of her getting into an accident. She never knew her name, but that was how she was told her bio mom died.

She would always let it go when they talked about the "angel that gave them their precious baby girl."

But she knew now that they were hiding something from her!

When she pressed until they gave in, she saw what on her birth certificate. She felt so betrayed! How could they lie to her like that?

The taunting clock on her nightstand changed to 4:30. The DMV was now closed. Not that it even mattered!

She couldn't take it anymore! Robin picked up the phone.

"Hey, Nancy? I hate to ask, but could you and Jonathan come pick me up? I really need a friend right now."

---

In the Byers-Hopper living room, Nancy blinked up at Robin. "So, you are actually a year *older* than you thought you were?"

Robin threw her hand in the air. "Yes! And they didn't tell me! Evidently, it wasn't just that I took longer than the rest of the babies to walk! Oh no, I was in the NICU for *months*! I was so far behind in my milestones that my parents decided to just tell me I was a year younger and enroll me in school a year later than everyone else!"

Jonathan dodged a flailing arm and handed Robin a cup of tea. "Here, sit down and drink this. It's my mom's chamomile. I think you need it."

Taking a breath, Robin nodded her thanks and took a sip. Then made a face. "This tastes like laundry detergent and bourbon."

Jonathan shrugged with a small smirk. "I said it's my mom's."

Nancy went into investigation mode. "Okay, so your parents adopted you three days after you were born. Closed adoption. Your biological mother died, and no information about your biological fatherm. Instead of 1968, you were adopted in 1967."

Carefully putting the mug down on a magazine on the table, Robin ran her fingers through her hair. "Me being adopted is old news, Nancy. I've known I was my parents 'miracle baby' since I was able to walk...which I don't know when that is now! Was it *actually* six months after most kids, or *a year and six months* after most kids?!?"

Nancy waved her hand to cut Robin off. "Robin! I understand. I'm just trying to understand how nobody knew this information."

Jonathan raised an eyebrow. "About Robin being adopted?"

Nancy sighed. "No, about how Robin could go through the whole school system and sign government NDA's without getting flagged that her birthday was wrong. I'm wondering if her adoption records say something else."

She got up to grab a notepad and started scribbling. "The information given to the Buckley's, if they can believed- sorry Robin- is that the adoption was a closed adoption. Having records sealed makes sense, but not a closed adoption. There was no father, according to Robin's parents. Just her biological mother. Who died in a car accident. So...who made sure it was a closed adoption? Who isn't supposed to be contacted? Does that have anything to do with the year change?"

Jonathan got up and pulled out his wallet. "Robin, you've never had a physical ID, right?" He showed off his own driver's license with his awful bowl cut hair picture.

"No. I haven't even had a permit yet. At nineteen! I'm so far behind!"

Jonathan nodded and looked to Nancy to continue. When she nodded back, he handed Robin his license. "If you've never had an ID, the only time you would see your birthday written anywhere would either be at school or by your parents." He turned to Nancy. "If her school records say she was born in 1967, then they knew she was a year older, but didn’t say anything... If they filled out her forms saying 1968, then they lied to the Roane County Board of Education, and they didn't check her birth certificate."

Nancy pointed a pencil at Robin. "You might have accidentally uncovered a hidden adoption scheme in Hawkins."

Robin flexed her fingers. "That's nice, you guys. Really nice. I may be a part of some big adoption conspiracy. But the fact remains, I'm a year older than I ever thought I was, and my parents lied to me about it."

Nancy and Jonathan both flinched.

Right. Comfort Robin now, investigate later.

Nancy walked over and stilitingly pat Robin’s shoulder. She wracked her brain for something to cheer the woman up.

"Well, you and Steve can actually pretend to be twins, now! Your birthdays are now only three days apart!

Part 1 here:

[roosterforme]

The Younger Kind Part 31 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley knows there's only one way to contend with what Carl did, and he will gladly do it for you. All he wants is his house, his kid and his girl. You on the other hand don't know quite how to deal with anything that's going on, because it all seems out of your control. 

Warnings: Angst, swearing, fluff, fighting, blood, and age gap (18+)

Length: 3500 words

Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader

Check out my masterlist for more! The Younger Kind masterlist.

You were so anxious for your first day of work, you actually woke up way too early and spilled blazing hot coffee all over your scrubs, forcing you to make a detour back to the bedroom to get changed. All you seemed to be able to think about was that video. That goddamn video. You wished you never looked in that box in the attic.

Once again, you were on the verge of tears as you pulled on a clean top and went to wake Noah up for the day. Everything felt like too much right now unless he was with you. The fact that you were as dependent on Noah as he was on you was probably nothing to brag about, but he really lit up every time you read to him or made him food. And you felt much better inside when he was snuggled up with you or holding your hand. 

You felt like his mom. You felt like you belonged here with him. He trusted you to take care of him, and you always would. But your confidence where Bradley was concerned felt stunted now, and you couldn't even talk to him about it. If you were even strong enough to bring it up at all. 

Noah climbed out of bed and went right to you for a hug, never questioning if he was welcome with you. "Morning, sweet Noah," you whispered against his soft hair. "Did you have happy dreams?"

He yawned and said, "Yeah. I was a pink dinosaur, and all of the other dinosaurs were afraid of me. So I got to eat all the Skittles."

"Wow," you said with a laugh as you carried him into the kitchen for breakfast. "That's the best dream I've ever heard of."

"Yeah, I know." 

He ate some eggs while you successfully drank your coffee and vanilla creamer without spilling it this time. And when you dropped him off at daycare, the same girl was working at the front desk.

"Hi, Noah," she said sweetly before handing you the clipboard to sign with a bland expression. You kissed Noah on the cheek and watched him walk in with the other kids before you signed your name. "And will you be picking him up again today, or should we be expecting another babysitter?"

You froze, and a startled laugh escaped your lips. "I'll be picking him up. And I'm the only babysitter." She appraised you again, so you added, "Only the best for Lieutenant Bradshaw and his son," before you spun on your heel and strolled out to the parking lot. 

You were driving the Bronco. You were in charge of Noah. Bradley was acting like some sort of sugar daddy boyfriend with the credit card you had tucked in your wallet. You shouldn't have been feeling insecure at all. You tried not to think about anything except getting to work on time for your first day. 

And being out of the house did help. You met all of the doctors and other nurses, and some of them were your age. Dr. Kelly treated you to lunch, and you got to chat with her a bit. You learned you'd get to assist with a few special needs kids later in the week. It was exciting. You had your own tiny workspace. Being there occupied your mind. 

But when you were asked to fill out a small stack of new hire paperwork in the afternoon, your pen stopped on the page multiple times. You hesitated twice before you eventually wrote Bradley's address as your own. You wrote his name and phone number down as your emergency contact, but you felt ridiculous writing 'boyfriend' where it asked for your relationship to him. After a brief debate, you wrote it anyway and moved on. And a beneficiary for your life insurance? Well, you didn't really have anyone else, so you put Noah. 

And then when you handed everything back in, you felt kind of like you were pretending to be an adult. 

----------------------------

Bradley waited on his bunk for Carl to return. It was getting late, and he wondered where the fuck he was. Without completely dismantling the tiny room, Bradley had searched through as much of Carl's shit as he could. And that was after confirming that he was only missing the one polaroid that you sent with him. 

His ears were ringing. Fingers twitching. He was absolutely repulsed by the thought of anyone else looking at that picture. But especially Carl. That was a line you just didn't cross with a bunkmate. Bradley had seen some wild shit in his days, walked in on some things he wished he could unsee. But you simply did not mess with personal items. And you certainly didn't take anything under any circumstances without permission. And if it was anything pertaining to a wife, girlfriend or significant other, it was absolutely forbidden. 

And if you broke any of these unwritten rules, well... you should know what you were in for. 

When Bradley heard a key in the door close to midnight, his hands automatically curled into fists. Your pretty face popped into his mind, smiling up at him, a teasing smirk on your lips. Even though you weren't here, you deserved to be defended right now. He'd protect you and Noah until he used up his dying breath. And that just meant things weren't looking too hot for Carl at the moment. 

The other man strolled in wearing his gym clothes, and it struck Bradley that Carl was probably a little older than he was. He was in good shape, too, but that wouldn't stop Bradley from beating the absolute shit out of him if necessary. 

"What's up, Carl?" he asked, remaining seated with his fists planted on either side of him on the bed. When Carl seemed barely able to meet his eyes, Bradley knew for sure.

"Hey," he replied awkwardly. "Just wanted to hit the gym when it was empty."

Bradley just watched him for a few seconds, silently demanding eye contact. When Carl finally stopped bumbling around and met his eyes, Bradley slowly stood. "Where is it?"

Carl's eyes flashed with panic as Bradley rolled his shoulders and took a step closer in the already limited space. "What? What are you talking about?" He tried to back away, but there was really nowhere to go. 

"If you make me ask again, it's going to be a lot worse for you, man."

"I... I..." Carl's eyes followed Bradley's left hand as he loosened his fist. And then Bradley slammed him back against the door. 

"You know better," Bradley growled. "This isn't your first deployment. You know the rules. And it belongs to me. Where. Is. It?"

"The photo?" Carl whispered as Bradley pressed the heel of his hand against his sternum with even more pressure. 

Bradley raised his voice. "Where the hell is it? It better have never left this fucking room."

"I have it!" Carl swore, and Bradley released him.

"Get it," Bradley said as calmly as he could, but his voice was shaking. He watched Carl dig around in his bedding, procuring the photo of you and your perfect tits and your barely concealed pussy. Bradley had a flashback to Noah's birthday party when Jake kissed you. Then he pictured you at the fraternity house, drunk and helpless. Carl was about to pay a pretty large price. 

"Here," he grunted, extending the polaroid out to Bradley. Once he set it down on top of his dresser, making sure the photo was still perfect, he turned back to Carl and sucker punched him right on the nose. 

Blood was gushing onto his gym shirt as Bradley said, "That's fucked up, Carl. You had my photo in your bed."

He was holding his nose, looking at Bradley with guilty eyes. "Sorry," he mumbled.

"That's my girl, you piece of shit." Bradley was seething as he rammed Carl back up against the door. 

"She's your girl?" he asked, trying to stop the bleeding with both hands now. "She looks barely legal. How old is she?"

Bradley released him and took a step back before he did more damage than he intended to. "Do you really think it's a good idea to ask me that, Carl? You probably jerked it to my girlfriend after you stole my photo, and now you're asking me how old she is?" He was panting, letting the rage flow through him, and then both hands curled into fists again.

"Shit, I didn't- I wasn't-"

"You're not very bright, are you?" Bradley asked, cutting him off. "I'll let you walk out of this room with your face mostly intact as long as you guarantee that you'll wear your bruises around this carrier without even so much as looking in my direction. And don't you dare visit the infirmary. Your indiscretion doesn't blow back on me. You got it?"

Carl looked resigned as he lowered his hands from his face and nodded. "Yeah. I got it."

Then Bradley landed one more punch, hard as hell, and Carl staggered around the room for a few seconds before he managed to take himself out into the hallway and toward the bathroom. Bradley carefully picked up his polaroid, and his heart ached. He was yours, and he'd have done anything to see your beautiful face in person right now.

And if Carl didn't so much as speak to him or look at him again for the rest of the deployment, it would be just fine with Bradley.

-------------------------

You always felt like you were rushing around. When you got out of work an hour early one Wednesday, you decided to use the time to go grocery shopping before you picked up Noah. It was easier to get just the necessities this way. The downside was that you were definitely getting lost in your own thoughts as you stood in the produce area selecting apples. 

It was almost a relief that Bradley hadn't contacted you yet. If you had to look him in the eye right now, you weren't sure you could do it without crying. That USB drive was currently on top of the refrigerator where you couldn't see it, but it was still enough to upset you when you thought about it. But at the same time, you missed your boyfriend and wanted him to come home, and you knew Noah would benefit from talking to him.

You wasted so much time looking at fucking apples that you were going to be late if you didn't get going. You winced as you used the purple princess credit card to pay for the food, and then you organized everything in the back of the Bronco. You loved driving it and briefly wondered if he'd still let you after he got home. 

You pulled into the gas station that was just a few blocks from Noah's daycare, once again using Bradley's credit card. You sighed as you inserted the card for payment and then started to fill the tank. And then you looked up toward the next row of pumps, and you were sure you knew that BMW. A second later, you met Meredith's gaze, and a chill went through your body.

You were afraid your voice was going to shake, but you called out, "You're not supposed to come near me."

She laughed maliciously. "This is a gas station, and I was here first. So maybe you should stay away from me."

"With pleasure," you snarled. You had to close your eyes against the sick feeling that rose inside you. Naked. You could picture her naked. Bradley used to love her. 

"You already ruined my life," Meredith snapped. "So your little restraining order stunt really doesn't matter to me." Then she was climbing into her car, and you watched her peel out of the parking lot and into traffic, heading in the opposite direction from Noah's daycare. 

Your hands were unsteady as you finished up at the gas pump. She was right; she had been at the gas station first. She was with Bradley first. She was Noah's mom before you ever came into the picture as his babysitter. She was everywhere, and she wouldn't go away.

----------------------

Bradley emailed you days ago to let you know he would be able to FaceTime with you and Noah tonight, but you'd only written back, "Sounds good." You didn't give him any updates. You didn't call him Daddy. You didn't say anything else. 

Sounds good.

He grunted as he worked out in the gym. The sooner he could get this deployment completed and get home, the better. Carl's face was starting to look better now, but Bradley smiled every time he saw the bruises. He had no idea what excuse the other man had given for looking like a raccoon with two black eyes and a bent nose, and he didn't really fucking care. If anyone assumed he was the one who caused the bruising, they probably also assumed it was warranted. 

Those polaroids were wrapped up and put away now. But Bradley wanted the real thing. Your body and your voice. He'd been thinking about how insufficient it felt to call you his girlfriend. Just the same way you'd always felt like more than Noah's babysitter to them. But now with your lack of a real response, Bradley felt a little foolish for thinking about proposing to you. 

When it was time to make the call home, he sighed deeply. And when you answered your phone on the living room couch, your expression was hesitant. 

"Princess," he rasped, holding the iPad with both hands. "Baby. I miss you."

It felt like an eternity before you responded. "We miss you, too." 

He had so much he wanted to say and talk about, but your voice was just a little too soft, and your eyes were just a little too sad. "What's wrong?" he asked, but you were already shaking your head.

"Here. Talk to Noah." And then you were out of the frame, and Noah was there. Bradley laughed as he talked about daycare and making something called peanut butter snails and going for hikes. He held up some of the coloring sheets he had worked on, and Bradley noted that you had dated all of them. You always did little things like that. Now he'd be able to see which days his son worked on the coloring sheets when he got home. 

"I miss you so much, bub."

"Will you come home soon?" Noah asked, and Bradley's heart absolutely melted. 

"Really soon. And we can go to the beach and maybe take a little vacation, okay? Now can you sit with Princess so I can talk to her, too?"

And then you were immediately back in the frame and scooping Noah onto your lap. So you must have been standing right there the whole time. 

"That's better," Bradley sighed. His house, his kid, his girl. "You have no idea how much I wish I was on that couch with you." 

You smiled softly. "Do you know when you'll be back?"

"I'm not sure, Baby. Not soon enough. Tell me about work."

So you indulged him in a few stories, and it sounded like you fit in there. You liked your coworkers, especially Dr. Kelly. You loved all the kids you got to talk to and care for all day. But you still seemed a little distant.

"Are you sleeping okay?" he asked. "Any issues?"

You pressed a kiss to Noah's cheek and said, "We just miss you. That's all."

"We want you to come home," Noah whined. 

"Please?" you added softly. 

"So soon," he reiterated, wishing he could give you both a kiss. "Watch for my emails?"

"I will," you promised. 

"I love you. Both of you."

Then you and Noah said in unison, "I love you, too." And then he had to end the call.

------------------------

Well it was done now. You were on your way to get the last few things from your place with Noah before you turned your key over to your landlord. Or former landlord. You were done paying rent here, and now you could start helping Bradley pay his mortgage. In fact, he would be home in a few days, and you'd talk to him about it then. There were actually a lot of things you wanted to have a conversation about.

"Do you remember when you came here for dinner? And I made you spaghetti in my little kitchen?"

"That was a long time ago," Noah insisted, and you held his hand as you walked up the sidewalk. "You live at my house now."

"Yep," you replied softly as you let go of his hand and dug around in your bag for the key you hardly ever used now. "Let's just hope that makes your Daddy happy and not annoyed since I never really gave him a verbal answer," you mumbled, finally locating the key. 

As you shoved it into the lock, Noah knelt down and picked something up from the porch. "What's this?" he asked, reaching his hand up to you.

Your eyes went wide. "Drop it," you said right away, and he let the piece of broken glass fall back to the porch. But there was more. Both of you were standing in it, and when you reached to turn the knob, there must have been a shard there.

"Shit," you gasped as your right palm started bleeding. Your heart was pounding in your ears as you kicked the door fully open. One of the panes of glass in the door had been smashed, and there was more of the mess on the floor inside. "Don't touch anything," you hissed, and Noah started crying. 

You kept him close enough to take a few pictures as soon as you were able to fumble with your phone. You took seven photos of all the glass plus the item that had been left. For you. It was just a dollar store coloring book, but there was a note on top of it written in crayon. Have fun playing house.

It had to have been from Meredith. Who else could have done it? She was already claiming you ruined her life. And ever since you saw her at the gas station, you were nervous that wasn't the last of her.

Blood was starting to pool a little bit in your upturned palm, and there wasn't much you could do at the moment except for ruin your shirt. "Let's get out of here," you whispered, and the two of you walked back across the porch, the glass crunching beneath your feet. 

You were able to buckle Noah with one hand, but even when you got back to Bradley's house, you were still bleeding. And the glass needed to be removed. So you finally caved and called Natasha. 

"I kind of need your help," you told her vaguely over the phone.

She laughed in response. "I kind of need a lot of things. What can I do for you?"

"Can you come by and help me remove a piece of glass from my dominant hand?"

"Fuck. Of course. I'm on my way," she replied, all tones of joking  gone. 

She was there in less than fifteen minutes, and she washed her hands right away. Then she used the sterilized tweezers that you handed to her to carefully remove the glass. "Just the one piece?" she asked, meeting your eyes. 

"I think so. I already checked Noah really thoroughly."

Nat's expression darkened. "Why don't you tell me what happened?"

You were pressing some gauze against your palm now. You might need stitches. You would probably benefit from getting stitches. But you couldn't do them yourself with your left hand, and you didn't want to leave Noah right now. Not even with Nat. He was watching a Mickey Mouse cartoon on the couch, and you didn't want him further away from you than that. 

"It was just some broken glass," you replied. 

"Here?" she asked, looking around the kitchen.

"No. At my old place. It's fine. I just need to tell my landlord about it, and I'll replace it." You were amazed how easily you were able to keep your voice steady. 

"Right," Nat replied with an unamused look. "Bradley will be home in a couple days? Do you want me to stay here until he's back?"

"Of course not. We're fine," you insisted, averting your gaze.

She stood to leave and sighed deeply. "Please call me back if you need anything, okay? And do us both a favor and don't lie to Bradley when you pick him up."

You pressed your lips together and nodded. "I won't," you said softly. And after she left, you took Noah into bed with you and snuggled him tight. 

---------------------

I hate Carl. I hate Meredith. I want Daddy to come home. Hope you enjoy your fic, @beyondthesefourwalls And thank you @mak-32 !

PART 32

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@swthxrry

@chassy21

@yaboid19

@solacestyles

@avoirlecoupdefoudre

@daisyhollyxox

@throwinsauce

@awesomebooklover17

@wintercap89

@whosyourgnomie4

@rosesinmars

@blog-name6996

@bcon24

@wishfulwithwine

@backinwonderl4nd

@tetragonia

@gingerbreadandpaper

@emptyloverofmine

@chaoticassidy

@missmirandafe

@changlingkhat

@sugarcoated-lame

@avada-kedavra-bitch-187

@katiebby04

@marantha

@averyhotchner

@abaker74

@heli991113

@k-k0129

@noz4a2

@tallyovie

@shanimallina87

@teddyluvs2sing

@little-wiseone

@ccbb2222

@lilyevanswhore

@o-the-o-grim-o-reaper-o

@xoxabs88xox

[novankenn]

So in a universe where Jaune seduced Salem into stopping the shadow war for now are living in a nice house with Salem Pregnant. Cut to them stressing out over taxes because Jaune was never taught and its been so centuries since Salem had to do any. Cue stress, confusion, and anger. Maybe Mama Arc comes in to help keep Salem calm for the baby and teach Jaune taxes.

Officially no one knew what caused the Grimm to cease their predations. What serendipitous act ushered in this new Golden Age for Remnant. Well no one accept for a very small contingent of young huntsmen and huntresses. It was almost funny for them all that "Love at First Sight" would be what saved the world.

Well maybe not that exactly. It was more desperate tackle by a overwhelmed blond knight upon evil incarnate... turned accidental kiss that really pulled everyone's ass out of the fire. In that single moment Salem Queen of the Grimm instantly became smitten with one Jaune Arc.

Three month into their instant marriage, The Arcs decided that EverNight Castle and the Grimmlands were not the place to raise a family. So they moved. They moved to Vale.

Jaune: ARGH! *Throws a pen across the kitchen table* This is INSANE!

Salem: *Rocking in a rocking Chair hands on her belly* Jaune, honey it's okay. It's okay. You don't need to...

Jaune: Salem this HAS to be done. If we don't file, we won't be able to access the VCB, or get our share of the Dust Rebate.

Salem: VCB?

Jaune: Vale Child Benefit.

Salem: We don't need those things. I have more than enough gold to last a hundred life times.

Jaune: Yes, gold coins with your face on them. Gold Coins that need to be converted to lien because in today's society gold is not used for direct purchases.

Salem: Seems like an oversight.

Jaune: Well exchanging the gold for lien means we are selling assets, which is means we are liable to pay the capital gains tax on 50% of the proceeds of sale...

Salem: Ridiculous

Jaune: AND seeing as all your coins predate known historical civilization figuring out the Adjusted Cost Base to properly account for what the actual profit from the sale... is almost impossible.

Salem: Vale should just use the Tithe system.

Jaune: We've just gotten you a Social Insurance Number, thanks to Os...

Salem: Don't mention his name, around the babies!

Jaune: Fine. I still need to do T1 couples return for us, and I'm not sure if I have to do a T2 Corporate Return for EverNight, or a T3 Trust return.... I don't think I can do this...

Salem: We have the money, dear. Hire someone.

Jaune: Like who? Who do we approach and say, here's all our paperwork, oh and by the way we have like 600 million lien worth of gold in the Grimmlands in addition to my Huntsmen Pension. Who?

Salem: Oh, they just kicked!

Jaune: Maybe I'll just start over? Maybe I should get a program?

Salem: Jaune, darling... come here.

Jaune: That could work, but we still need to figure out as birthday for Salem, and get a birth certificate...

Salem: Jaune, sweetie... come here... they're kicking!

Jaune: Maybe I should talk with Mom? She's been doing hers and Dad's taxes for years...

Salem: Jaune... JAUNE!

Jaune: Ah! What?

Salem: Forget about that. Come here.

Jaune: But...

Salem: Come here. You've stressed over those papers enough. Come.

Jaune: *Rises from his seat, and walks over.*

Salem: Here. *Takes Jaune's hand a placed it upon her belly* You feel that?

Jaune: Yes. Yes I do.

[sentient-cloud]

Ok so. Hi. Me again! Last time I swear. Hopefully. I’m Tavian. Me and my mom and our cat have been through some things. We’re homeless, lack of a better word. We’ve been living in various hotels for about 3 years. Lost jobs from health issues, my moms been in and out of the hospital and has heart failure. I’ve got health issues myself that make holding down a job hard to impossible, especially if we’re going to keep the insurance that my moms depending on to keep her heart alive right now. That said I acknowledge I am far from a stranger for coming on here and begging for money in the past. I know I’ve asked for more than anyone can ever expect and I am beyond grateful for the help that’s allowed us to stay somewhat afloat. Words can’t describe how thankful I am the generosity of others has allowed us to quite frankly stay alive.

I need to acknowledge this isn’t the level of emergency past things have been. Especially now, when maybe people are in much more dire need than us.

That out of the way, we’ve been given an opportunity that quite frankly feels life changing. If we can come up with $300 by November 1st (or well as soon as possible, it’s what will lock the apartment for us) we can move into an actual apartment. A real lease, kitchen, bedrooms. No mold or bugs. She’s extremely generous with working with us to pay extra rent until we catch up with the full $2,400 amount that’s the technical move in cost. The only sticker is that extra $300 on top of what we can offer. If we can get that we’ll be able to move into a real place and out of hotels for the first time in years.

I acknowledge this is a big ask, but fuck man I have to try don’t I? I’m technically planning for $400, because this would allow us to get an air mattress to share and a month of service on my phone (so my mom can contact her work and so that I can have a way to get in contact with y’all about commisions and such.) But $300 is the bare minimum to have a real house.

I know this is a lot to ask, I can offer commisions, pay what you want, if anyone’s interested in my art. I have PayPal and Venmo and cash app, if anyone’s able to help. I also can promise I will refund your money, if you send in money and the deal falls through in the meantime. I’ll even still give you that commission. Dm me for details I guess? Fuck man. Fuck.

400/400. !!!

I’m speechless. Thank you all so so much, I will keep everyone updated (we tour the apartment tomorrow? And talk about when the money will be exchanged and the lease can be signed. I really can’t express enough how life changing this is for us. As I promised, i will keep everyone updated, and if this opportunity falls through (I’m scared of allowing myself to be too hopeful, haha it doesn’t feel real you know?) I will let everyone know and issue refunds, it’s the least I can do. I really can’t express enough how grateful we all are.

[hellodragonkit]

Beetlejuice Beetlejuice Opinions and Points.

SPOILERS... obviously.

Ok I watched the movie, and ... some things that are my own personal thoughts and possible points I noticed. And some things I have seen others point out to where this is just my over all opinion and its kinda long.

The backstory lets not forget beetle is a unreliable narrator as proven by the first movie as Julliard and Harvard did not exist while he was alive, and unless he was possessing someone when they graduated its unlikely he said the truth. - so I don't think he gave us the full backstory. Maybe yes he did marry her, but given he never dies on screen and previously stated point. I just find it hard to believe that he drank a poison then had enough strength to chop her up as much as she was, if it was actually effecting him. i find it far more possible he had already been poisoned so often he was immune at that point. and was just pissed his new wife tried to do him in. Also in first movie it was suggested with the red mark he hung himself... maybe he tried to take over the death cult and had to do himself in for a quicker death?

the Newspapper. Yes it did say people were falsely accused of offing themselves at death, I think this was to help clear up the plot hole that would have been with Astrid's dad. And maybe be a red haring for Beetle. Next few points are BeetleBabes related so if you don't like the ship, please move on.

He gave her autonomy in his power. During the therapist scene when he "sewn" her mouth shut, it was less truly sewn and more duct taped. She had the ability to remove it, yeah he had it stick long enough for a gag, but not much more. He didn't force her.

The Contract and Nullification of it. Beetle wrote the contract, and he worked as a dead con man for years, he knew the handbook inside and out. He wrote up the contract for Lydia to sign and save her daughter, knowing there was a Massive Loop hole. even blowing a hole in the "back door" of the Neither to insure the loop hole was as big as it could be the second he had her sign, obviously with a bit of theatrics for both signing and explosions. But would we expect anything else from him?

Delia calling him: when Delia died, she called him asking to go to Lyd's wedding. He did so no questions no strings. Any other deal he always asked for something in return but for Lyd's step mom he didn't charge a dime, possibly because he felt Lyds would be upset if she missed it, and didn't get to say good bye.

Rory Beetle obviously didn't like him, could tell he was scamming Lyds, and yeah he probably could have sent him off but instead had to prove to Lydia why that guy was bad, hence why he used truth serum. He need to make sure she wouldn't go back to that guy once he was gone again. It was even hinted he heard her talking in the graveyard rushing to the church that she was not ready to marry.

He planed to go away. His song at the end, was not one of love and togetherness. MacArthur Park is more of loss and remorse. He was saying Goodbye to Lydia! Not permanently anyway

He set up sending away Deloris and helped the contract become Null When Deloris burst in through the door, the wind didn't effect Lydia, or Beetle, or Delia but the book slid to Astrid as easily as it had moved away, He moved it to her, conveniently on the page to summon sand-worms and how to brake the contract.

He stalled for the cops I find it funny how in the first movie he summoned a Man of the cloth and the guests. But this time he had both, and unlike the first time he wasn't rushing... he took his time to sing a whole song and to let the Neither cops show up, possibly also baiting Deloris to take care of her but I'm still not sure on that bit. ether way He had won, he had Lydia, the pastor, and guests. But instead he did a song and dance, a song that I already pointed out was one more of goodbye.

He let Lydia send him away. Beetle loves to make a entrance, he also may love to make a exit. he has also shown he can silence someone for just saying his name once. But instead of silencing her or taking over her voice as he had before. He started a dramatic plea, showing her he was getting sent away, showing her he was going to let her send him off.

The ending given the fact he may have over heard about Rory, And all the other notes, he could probably see Lydia wasn't wanting marriage at that time. But I also feel... he just likes the chase. What fun would it be if the Coyote already caught the road runner? he didn't mind her sending him away, because it means he could keep trying to get her to call him willingly. Over all this is just my ramblings that I don't have any friends irl who may appreciate them or be able to properly counter lol And if you made it this far thank you. And I hope you liked the movie as much as I did.

[sleepynegress]

THIS ISN'T COMMON KNOWLEDGE BUT SHOULD BE...ABOUT MEDICAID....

If you ever find yourself in the position of living in the home of a parent who is disabled and requires full-time care and you are their primary caregiver for at least 2 years, and they intend to leave their assets to you after they pass, make sure to transfer ownership of their assets, home/land in your name ASAP...or they will require you to pay back any benefits received and claim those assets even out from under you, as soon as your loved one passes. This is yet another way that generational assets /wealth are easily taken out of marginalized communities. It is a loan.

And the sharks circle as soon as your loved one passes. Here's an article about it:

Decided to add context. I don't like to talk about it here, because ehh, social media is for my vapid entertainment thoughts for me. It's a hobby/getaway/ place to get semi-social with strangers and online friends with shared interests, but I don't want anyone else to go through what I am... Of course, this applies specifically to the U.S.'s broken healthcare system. So, for those who don't know, my mom passed recently. I am an only child with no siblings or children. My whole life during that time was 24/7 care. She had insurance, but it wasn't enough to cover everything that she needed, so Medicaid was the obvious solution, right? The government takes care of our disabled elderly who have worked until retirement, right? It seemed like the routine thing to do, I had never heard anything during the process about having to pay it back,but sure enough, less than 12 weeks after her passing, I was hit with a warning (which I followed up on and was told I would NOT be charged because of my caregiver status) and then 2 weeks later the "bill". The lady I spoke to, totally changed her attitude from the first time I spoke to her to the point where I felt scammed. Out came a patronizing voice certain people use with children, that measured whiny thing (it's always a red-flag to me and makes me instantly dislike you if you do this even with kids, btw... speak to kids like PEOPLE). I feel like an idiot. I have been doing this for over a decade and didn't think to transfer any assets of hers during that time because it *was* hers. I wanted her to feel as empowered about that as possible.

Not a single soul said I should transfer those assets to keep this from happening and now I'm facing down what feels like some kind of weird conspiracy to take the land and house.

FYI, there have been weird inquiries, the census came to mark down my mother's death literally *immediately* after she passed...and odd timing called the day of the notice to "help", with all the southern Christian signifiers (bless your heart we'll be praying for you).... It feels so seedy. Anyway, all this to say if you find yourself in a similar position....

TRANSFER THOSE ASSETS INTO YOUR NAME 2 years into caregiving or they will take them from you, house etc..

[stargazing-imagines]

Invisible — Conrad Fisher x Fem!reader

Description: every summer you always join your grandparents at there beach house at cousins beach because of your problems with your mom, but this time… let’s just say you aren’t the only grandchild to come along

Warnings: reader being ignored, mild abuse (just a slap on the face that’s all) hurtful words are said, and bad writing

Fandom: the summer I turned pretty

Requested: no

( Read part two here )

Every summer, your mother would drop you off at your grandparents house so she could have her freedom, but this summer was the one that changed your relationship with your family forever

Your grandparents have decided it would be a great idea for your oldest cousin and her two boys to stay with you guys during the summer because of her nasty divorce.

Of course you were excited about this, but you weren’t as excited with all the attention your cousin have gotten because of this

So this caused you to stay away from your grandparents beach house to hang out at the fishers beach house instead.

“Hey y/n!” Said Steven as he saw you enter the house “trouble at home?”

You looked at Steven before nodding your head, this time things were different.

The oldest son of your cousin was bragging about how he was the better one and talking about having his own insurance for his car when he turned 15, while you were trying to engage in a Conversation, let’s just say that you got talked over.

“Yeah, I needed to get away from the huggy and the wuggy that aiden watches.” You lied as you sat on the couch

“Hey, maybe you can bring Aiden over to play some video games with me and Jere.” Suggested Steven “that is if he wants to.”

“He probably will… is Conrad around?” You asked looking around the house

“H-“

“Y/n! What brings you by?” Asked Susannah as she gave you a hug “oh I heard what happened with your cousin, that’s horrible for her to go through a nasty divorce.”

“Yeah, it’s been pretty rough on her.” You said as you tried to fake a smile

Surely a divorce is awful, but it isn’t the end of the world.

“I remember playing with her when we were kids, she was a life of a party when it comes to parties.”

“Yeah… anyway is Conrad home?” You asked “I really need to speak to him.”

“Yeah, he’s around.”

“Thanks, I’ll just find him.”

With that you left,

After thirty minutes of finding him, you finally find him, so you walked over to him sitting next to him on the sand

“Hey y/n.” Said Conrad

“Hey.” You said with no expression, as you looked down at the sand

“What’s wrong?” Asked Conrad with concern laced in his voice

“My family been ignoring me again.” You said as you crossed your arms on your knees placing your head on your forearms

“Y/n, I hate to see you like this.” Said Conrad “you just need to stick up for yourself.”

“I know but sometimes its just hard ok.” You said as you were on the verge of tears “it doesn’t help when they have been doing it for years.”

After you said that, Conrad’s eyes lit up

“They’ve been ignoring you for years?” Asked Conrad “but… your relationship with your grandparents are great.”

“That’s because they raised me Conrad.” You said “and I get called shit because of it.”

“What do they call you?” Asked Conrad as he placed an arm around you, pulling you into an embrace

“They think I’m spoiled rotten and a burden to my grandparents.”

At this point, Conrad was fuming, just because your mom was a horrible mother doesn’t mean you are an attention seeker.

“I’m sorry, you had to endure that y/n.” Said conrad “if I could take the pain away I would but-“

“Just… hold me.” You said “that’s really what I need right now.”

You came back home and it was midnight, after staying with the fishers and conklins for a few hours, you finally returned home.

You opened the slide door as you carefully shut it not wanting to make a bunch of commotion, you walked further into the house before being stopped by your grandmother

“Y/n, why are you out there this late at night?”

“I was visiting the fishers and the conklins.” You said, slowly turning around

“Your always over there, I think it’s high time that you start staying on house arrest.”

“What so I can listen to Kelly nag and nag about how shitty her life is?” You asked “I don’t want to.”

Your grandmother eyes widen at the language that we’re using

“And you are to not hang around that Conrad fella either.” Said you grandmother “I don’t need you going around saying things like that when there are children in this house.”

At this point you were furious, so you did what you always did, run away from your problem, but that didn’t work because you were grabbed by the arm pulling you back

“Let go of me!” You shouted “your hurting me!” As you tried to free you arm from your grandmothers grasps

“You think I’m hurting you?” Asked your grandmother “this is hurting you, I never seen a girl that is so selfish that all she thinks about is herself!”

With that, you were slapped on the cheek, sending your hand to the sensation of the burn. In shock

“I hate you!” You shouted as you ran upstairs, and with with tears running down your face that. You cried yourself to sleep that night with a red mark on your face

——

Expect a part two of this coming soon!!

The summer I turned pretty masterlist

[lightdancingwords]

Come Find Me - Part Eight

Pairing: Beau Arlen x F. Reader

Series Summary: You are a new arrival to Big Sky, Montana, and found gainful employment with the local insurance department next door to the sheriff’s department. A whole new life with your past haunting you, while Beau is still dealing with the entanglements with his ex-wife. Can either of you succeed in overcoming your ghosts?

Word Count: 3,369

Tags/Warnings: Fluff, mentions domestic violence/intimate partner violence, mentions police work, a little bit of angst, communication problems, profanity, discussion of teen sex (18+ character)

A/N: Comments, Likes, Reblogs, Kind feedback are always highly appreciated. Please let me know if you want to be added to the tag list! Please see this post regarding future story posts.

Divider: credit to @tsunami-of-tears

Chapter Eight: A Bump In The Road

It had been almost a week since you and Beau went on your official ‘first’ date. Life complications kept interfering and being a sheriff meant Beau was busy, especially when he was coordinating calls about cars sliding off the road and citizens needing help.

You absolutely understood and had no problems waiting… because now you knew something was happening with him. Every time you flashed back to that kiss, to that restaurant, you felt your heart swell with love and adoration.

Doris caught you that Monday morning with the goofiest smile on the planet and keyed right in. “Well, it’s about damned time!”

You blinked at her, startled. “About time..?”

“Oh don’t get me started with your innocent look,” she said with a fond scoff. “Beau’s been walking about with the same silly smile.”

You couldn’t help it, you grinned. “Really?”

Doris rolled her eyes and smiled. “Yes, really. He isn’t on Cloud Nine. I think he’s in Cloud Heaven.”

Your smile warmed and widened. “We kissed,” you confessed. “He took me to Ciao Bella and oh, Doris… it was wonderful.”

“I’m glad,” she said, and there was a firmness to her tone that spoke volumes. “You two deserved some happiness.”

You paused, then admitted, “I didn’t think I could trust again, Doris. But every step of the way, Beau proved I could, even when I didn’t ask him to.”

“He’s a rare man,” she said with a nod. “Stubborn, Lord yes, but a good man.”

“I’m scared.”

Doris studied you for a long moment, then said, “It’s okay to be scared. Even when I knew it was going to happen, I was scared of facing this life alone without my Stan. I loved that son of a bitch and I also hated him. When he was gone and I was free, Adam snatching me up terrified me.”

“How… how did you get over it?” You dreaded asking that question. Doris seemed so strong, you envied her strength of character. You hated how you constantly felt weak.

“I did it anyway. That fear only works if it wins in holding you in place. So do it scared.”

You thought back to how you finally confronted Beau. It worked, because it gave him the kick he needed… and where your relationship was now.

“Do it scared,” you mused.

“Exactly.”

You thought about that all day as you fielded phone calls from clients who needed their insurance because they apparently forgot how to drive in snow. Just as you were grabbing paper from the printer, you heard the door chime. “Hi, I’ll be right with you,” you said absently, and then turned around.

With a start, you saw it was Emily! With a smile, you got up and greeted her. “Emily, hey! Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.”

“Hey Y/N,” she said with a shaky smile.

That cued you into realizing something was up. “Is everything okay?”

“Um… can I talk to you? A-and you won’t tell my dad?”

Your brows swooped up. Carefully, you sat back down and regarded this young woman. You recalled Beau telling you Emily had just turned eighteen, so legally, she was an adult. But she was also just a kid….

“I can’t make that promise, Emily,” you said gently.

“It’s nothing bad! I just… I can’t ask my mom because she’s my mom, but I also need to talk to a woman.”

Baffled, you stared at Emily. Alarmingly, you worried if it was because maybe she was pregnant and wanted a ride to an abortion clinic. “I… um…”

“C-can I just… tell you?”

You nodded, praying you wouldn’t be caught in a situation where you’d have to help someone in a difficult situation.

“So… I’ve been with this guy, Tyler, for a few months now. He… I guess he’s my boyfriend—”

“You guess?” you asked in disbelief.

“We never really made it official,” Emily said defensively. “He said he wasn’t ready and I didn’t want to be one of those girls who pressured the guy, you know?”

Oh God. You had an inkling where the conversation was going, and prayed you were wrong. “Yeah, I’ve… been there. Go on, Emily.”

“Well, Tyler wants to take me on this really romantic date and… I think he wants us to do it.” The way she fidgeted made you think of Beau, and you wondered if he was ever an awkward teenager.

“‘It’?”

She blushed, and looked away skittishly. “You know… it.” She dropped her voice to a loud whisper despite no one else was in the office with you. “Sex.”

You found yourself wishing a giant sink hole would form and swallow you up. You actually waited several seconds, before deciding you weren’t so lucky.

“Emily… are you a virgin?”

Her face turned redder and she ducked her head. “Oh God,” she said, rubbing her face. “I… y-yeah. I really want it to be great and I really like Tyler. I just… don’t know what to do!”

“Emily, this is really something you should talk to your parents about—”

“No, I can’t!” She let out a breath. “Dad would turn all red and stutter and mom… when she gave me the ‘talk’, she kept harping on how love is really special and…”

“You felt patronized and shamed at even thinking about sex without love,” you hazarded. For some reason, Carla gave you that impression. Emily confirmed it a moment later.

“Yes! And I just… oh God, this is so embarrassing!”

She had no idea. You took a breath and decided to do your best. “Emily,… I was in college before I slept with a guy. We were both rather drunk and it was so embarrassing, I ended up being single for a year after that.”

Her eyes widened at your bluntness. She leaned forward, listening.

“Sex… can be really great. Exciting, even, especially if it’s with someone you have great chemistry with… but you shouldn’t rush into it.” You tried to articulate your thoughts. “You shouldn’t have sex just to get it over with or think it’ll make the guy love you. You should have sex when you feel ready for it. Whether it’s a one night stand or the beginning of a relationship, you need to be the one who decides to take that step for the right reason.”

Emily pondered that, biting her lower lip just like the way Beau did when he was lost in thought. “Does it ever get easier?”

“Relationships?”

“Yeah. Like… it’ll get easier… right?”

“I wish,” you said with a rueful smile.

“Ugh. Great.” She fixed a curious look on you. “Is it getting easier with my dad?”

“It is, actually,” you admitted. It was so weird having this conversation with Emily. She was your—God, did you dare call Beau your boyfriend?—she was Beau’s daughter.

“Can I ask how did it change?”

You thought of a random text message that you boldly sent, of the way you confronted him after he began avoiding you. Of how he gave you the space you so desperately needed, that when it finally happened, it was perfect.

“I found my voice and I used it,” you said. “I took that bold step, put my heart on the line, and I got so lucky.”

“Wasn’t it scary doing that?”

“God, yes,” you admitted with a breathless chuckle. “Your father could’ve ignored me, turned me away, but he didn’t, because we were actually wanting the same thing. A relationship works when the two in that situation feel the same way.”

In that moment, you caught a glimpse of the person she might turn into. Wise, intelligent, with enough sense of humor to balance her out. “Thanks, Y/N… I really needed this.”

“You’re welcome,” you said kindly. “I hope your decision is, whatever it turns out to be, makes you happy.”

“Thanks.”

—

“God, darlin’,” Beau grumbled over the phone as you drove home Friday night. “It was supposed to be our third date and instead I have to cancel, again. I’m about to go mad.”

You chuckled. Beau sounded so frustrated, because even as he grumbled, he’ll do his job. He wouldn’t leave people without help. Oh, he could have assigned his deputies to it, and he was, but he was one of the rare specimens of leadership where he actively participated as well as ordered. He refused to sit in his warm trailer while people were out in the cold.

Montana had the rare bout of snow every night and chilly days that left slick patches of ice everywhere. Friday night was the first night in a week that didn’t have snow. However, there were issues with black ice and a particularly bad accident on a bridge led to numerous calls to redirect, assist, or otherwise manage.

“Well, TGIF? You can always stop by afterwards and we can at least see each other,” you suggested as you carefully turned a corner.

“Careful there, darlin’,” he said, and a trace of flirtatious energy came through. “I just might use that invitation to neck you all night.”

The mental image of your neck covered in hickeys had a flash of heat through your core. “That actually sounds like fun. I’ll pencil you in up until midnight.”

He groaned through the phone. “Christ, darlin’. Just midnight? I was thinkin’ at least ‘til dawn.”

“Someone’s ambitious,” you replied, your voice rich with humor.

“Someone has a gorgeous neck that I wanna—Jesus Christ, Pop!” You heard him cuss a blue streak, the phone held away. “Just five minutes, darlin’,” he sighed when he returned to the phone. “Just five goddamned minutes with my girlfriend. That’s all I ask. The universe is conspirin’ against me.”

Your breath hitched at being called his girlfriend, and smiled shyly. “No matter how late it is tonight,” you decided then and there, “I want you to come knock my door.”

“Yeah?” He sounded so hopeful, it warmed your heart.

“Yeah. Knock on my door, Beau.”

“And what will I get when I do?”

“The best kiss this side of the Mississippi,” you offered, pulling into your driveway.

“Now that, darlin’, will make putting up with this insanity worth it,” he declared. “Best prepare those lips of yours. I’m claimin’ them tonight.”

You grinned. “I look forward to it.”

“I gotta go, darlin’, but…” He paused and you wondered at the hesitation. “I’ll see ya tonight.”

—

It was supposed to be a quiet night. Some tea, maybe a book to read. A chance to spend a minute with Beau. Everything positively domestic, peaceful, something you needed after the weeks of heightened anxiety and the mess with Mark. Instead, you got a call.

From Emily.

Seeing her name pop up on the Caller ID surprised you. For a moment, you couldn’t recall why she’d be bothering you late on a Friday evening. Then you remembered it, her visit to your office.

“Hello,” you answered.

The sudden crash of sobbing and a partially hysterical Emily was not what you expected.

“Emily?” You sat up straighter in your easy chair. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“C-can you come get me?” she asked, hiccuping as she swallowed air to calm herself down.

Dread flooded your being. What if she’d been—You couldn’t even finish that thought out of dread. “Of course I can,” you said instantly. “Where are you?”

She rattled off an address. “I… I got into a fight with Tyler,” she said sobbing. “I’m at the gas station. He refused to take me home.”

Anger boiled in your belly. Tyler was definitely rapidly going down the list of men you disliked. “I’ll be right there,” you said firmly, getting out of your easy chair. “Just hold on, okay?”

“Okay,” she said, sniffling in the background.

You hung up and quickly grabbed your winter boots and coat. You barely paused to snatch up your car keys and headed out the door, the sound of her crying echoing in your mind. You should call Beau, you knew that, but he was busy and Emily… she needed a friend more than a parent.

It took you longer than you liked to get to the gas station due to the black ice. Your car barely crawled across the ice and you didn’t want to be added to the list of people needing help. When you got there, you saw her outside, eyes red-rimmed and puffy. At first glance she looked okay, but you had to make sure.

“Emily,” you said, getting out of the car.

She let out a sob and nearly bowled you over in a desperate hug. “I’m so sorry, I just didn’t know who else to call and if I told my dad he’d kill Tyler and—”

“It’s okay,” you said soothingly, cutting her off. You wrapped your arms around her and rubbed her back. “Just tell me: are you okay? He didn’t… he didn’t force himself or anything?”

“No,” she said with a firm shake of her head. You felt the knot of fear in you loosen. Thank God. It would not have been a conversation you’d want with Beau. “He just…. C-can we talk about it in your car?”

“Of course. Come on, honey,” you said gently, leading her to the car. Once she was in the passenger seat, you went to the driver’s side and sat down. You turned on the car for the heat, and faced her. “What happened?”

Emily sniffled, wiped her eyes. “We… we were at this party. He took me to one of the rooms, locked the door, and was all ‘I’m so glad you decided to do this, baby’,” she said in an approximate male voice, then screwed her face in disgust. “I actually felt like he… like…” She made a sound of frustration.

“Like you were a prize to claim?” you suggested, watching her.

“Yeah! It was like that! I felt so gross. I told him I changed my mind and he… he was mad, asking if I didn’t love him, and—and I just told him I wanted to go home,” she said, the distress leaving and anger took its place. “He said that because I wasn’t going to be a loving girlfriend that I should just leave. So I said fine! I’ll leave!”

You smiled, feeling a spark of pride for her. “That was very brave of you.”

“I just… y-you said that it should feel right. And it didn’t.” Emily looked at you beseechingly, seeking reassurance.

“Hey… if you weren’t ready, you weren’t ready. I’m not the one who gets to decide that, Emily, you are. Not Tyler, you.” You placed a hand on her shoulder and gave her a reassuring squeeze. “That Tyler didn’t respect that is unfortunate. But you did the right thing by leaving and calling someone.”

She swallowed hard and rubbed her face. “I don’t know what to do, Y/N.”

“Tell you what… why don’t I take you back home with me, get you some tea, and then I can take you home?”

“Yeah…. Yeah, please?”

You nodded, started the car, and drove her back to your home. She rode the way quietly, calming down. At one point she looked at her phone, rolled her eyes, and turned it off. She said nothing, and you decided not to press the point.

However, when you got home, you saw Beau’s truck. He was outside your door and turned when he heard you pull into your driveway. “Darlin’, hey, there you—Emily?”

Beau froze at seeing his daughter come out of your car. He glanced at you, then at her, more than a little confused and uncertain. “Em, everythin’ all right?”

“Hey dad. Yeah, I’m okay,” she said. She was quite the sight, red-rimmed eyes and puffy.

He frowned and walked over to her. He put one hand on her shoulder and pulled her into a hug. “I’m here for you, honey,” he murmured.

Your heart ached at seeing the worry on Beau’s face. Maybe you should’ve made her call Beau, but you wanted her settled and feeling safe first. This kind of conversation would be a difficult one at any age, for any parent or child.

Beau gently pulled Emily away, and you heard them speaking in low, indistinct voices. You stood there, uncertain, and decided to just wait. Yes, it was cold, but you’d be okay. Right now, Beau having this conversation with Emily was more important. He was important to you, and by extension, so was Emily.

“He what?!”

You looked up, saw the fury on Beau’s face. Emily was desperately trying to calm him down.

“That son of a bitch—”

“Dad, stop!” Emily grabbed a hold of Beau’s arm.

“Beau,” you said his name gently. “Listen to your daughter.”

He closed his eyes, and mustered up his composure, his calm. He took a few breaths, let them out slow, misting in the cold air. “You’re right, darlin’.” He turned back to Emily, gave her a weak smile. “I’m sorry, Em. Just… God, I’m sorry ya went through that.”

Beau pulled his daughter into another hug, planted his lips in her hair. “I just want to protect ya, honey. I know there are some bad people out there.”

“I know, dad,” she said, clinging to him for a long moment. It broke your heart at how tender the sight was before you. “But… nothing bad happened. I left, I called Y/N….”

“Em, why didn’t you call me? Or your mom?” Beau asked, his puzzlement clear.

“I just…” Emily looked down and mumbled, “I was afraid you would get mad.”

“God, no, Emily, never,” Beau insisted, pulled her into another hug. “Mad at him, God yes. But never you. I promise, never you.”

Emily burrowed into her father’s arms, clung to him. You watched, absurdly feeling like an outsider in a family moment. Maybe Beau picked up on that, because he glanced over at you, and fixed an intense look of adoration on you.

“Thank you, darlin’,” he said quietly. “Thank you for being there for my Em.”

You smiled slowly, warmth blooming in your heart. “You’re welcome, Beau.”

He took Emily into his truck, planning to take her back to Carla’s home before he headed home. Once she was settled in the passenger seat, he came right over to you. Without a word, he pulled you into a passionate kiss that took you by surprise. Then you let out a soft sigh and melted, returning the kiss with fervor. He lingered, savoring the moment, cherishing you. When he finally broke the kiss, he rested his forehead against yours.

“So much for neckin’,” he whispered to you with a smile.

You let out a small laugh, your heart racing. “That’s okay. Maybe tomorrow.”

He met your gaze, pulled back enough to brush his hand across your cheek. Something flickered in his eyes and your breath hitched, wondering what it could have been. “Tomorrow, darlin’. Maybe lunch?”

You smiled, leaning into his touch. “Absolutely.”

He kissed you again, a quick peck this time. “Good night, darlin’.”

You watched them pull out from the curb. Emily waved at you from the passenger window, and you waved back with a smile. It made your heart ache to watch Beau leave. How did he become so wrapped up in your life that just him leaving made you miss him that much?

He called you his girlfriend. The thought still made your heart flip and swell. He was just so… you couldn’t even find the words. You smiled to yourself; the first throes of a relationship were always jittery, exciting, and full of energy that made you bounce everywhere. You definitely couldn’t get enough of him. It was different now than it was when you just went over to sleep outside his trailer.

You took a deep breath and went back inside your warm home, your heart full, even as you missed him. Just as the door shut and locked behind you, your cellphone pinged with a text message. Curious, you looked and your smile widened.

It was from Beau.

It read: I miss you already.

Tag List: @spxideyver, @deadlymistletoe, @bitchykittenconnoisseur, @aarpfashionvictim, @stoneyggirl2, @foxyjwls007

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for making my mom cry (in the hopes of continuing a years (?) long lie)

starting off: BIG SHINY ED TW

Context/Background:

• I’ve had an ED (OSFED) since I was 14

• I went to treatment (forced) as a teen. I hold zero anger over this by now and understand why my parents did it. I would have done the same.

• Both times I coasted until discharge, at which point I went back to ED behaviors, just more secretively.

• I’m now 22(F), living w my parents

—

The Lead Up to The Predicament:

• Relapsed age 21, and kept it secret

• My mother eventually noticed, and recommended treatment; I agreed, & got taken into IOP

• I’m still on my parents’ very good insurance, so treatment was covered pretty much entirely

• I did treatment with the same strategy I’ve used before: coasting until discharge, then keeping it secret. I have no intention of ever pursuing actual recovery, and do not believe it is possible. I don’t want to get rid of this problem, but I want it to be my problem only.

• Unfortunately, this means I essentially have to lie to everyone, because they won’t discharge you if you say “I’m doing this purely so I won’t run myself into the ground, and so my mom will leave me alone”. So I lied my ass off.

• I’m continuing to lie to my nutritionist, who recently approved me for “as-needed” appointments, and I kept putting off finding a therapist until my mom forgot and stopped asking about it, because I just don’t have the energy to continually lie to a therapist, and conversely, I don’t want to actually, honestly talk to a therapist.

—

The Predicament:

• Bill for $600 (part not covered by insurance) came from the treatment center

• Mom offered to pay it; I said no, I’ll pay for it

• Did this because I could not live with the guilt of my mom paying for treatment that she thinks actually put me on a path towards health, that I secretly used to lull her into a false sense of security

• She insists, and I insist back

• I pay it that night

• She finds out I paid it and breaks down crying because she thinks I did it because I assumed she couldn’t afford it and now she thinks she has failed me because I don’t think I can rely on my mother

• I try to explain that I’m an adult and it was my issue and my treatment and that I work full time and should be expected to pay my own medical copays

• This makes her feel worse and she expresses that my trying to pay my own way has been a pattern since I first got a job at 14, and that she should’ve asserted herself as a financial caregiver when she had the chance

• I freeze, because I don’t know how to explain what I really mean without admitting that I lied for months in an attempt to get people to stop worrying about an admittedly possibly-fatal illness

• I let her continue to cry

—

AITA FOR: Not explaining and just… letting her believe that?

What are these acronyms?

[textsfromthetva]

I would have made a post sooner, but I've been too distressed to even talk about this.

Mobius is sick. That's my cat, for the uninitiated. He started throwing up food Thursday night, like, a lot, so we went to the vet on Friday, who concluded he had a fever, but other than that and the nausea, there were no symptoms. So that's an infection, right? No telling where, but he got a shot of anty-nausea meds, a shot of antibiotics, and I got a box of catch-all antibiotics in pill form, and home we went.

Problem is, he kept getting worse. Cats do this thing where, when they feel a bit under the weather, they go 'guess I'll die 🤷‍♂️' and stop eating and drinking, like little drama queens. So you need to keep them from starving themselves to death until medication starts working. Friday night I had to start force feeding him, which in the case of cats means mixing wet food with water, forcing their jaw open, and using a syringe (without a needle, obvs) to squirt food into their mouth, holding their head back to force them to swallow. It's not fun for either party, and for 36 hours I did that every other hour, including throughout the night. But he continued to get worse. He was sluggish and dehydrated. I kept feeding him. No improvement. He was miserable, I was miserable, it was fucking horrible.

Sunday night we went to an emergency vet clinic, because I couldn't handle it any longer, I needed someone to have another look. She concluded that his fever had gone up, despite him being on antibiotics. This is obviously very troubling. She convinced me to pay for some blood work, just the basics, and he's insured, so whatever. I told her the Good Girl died two months ago, from FIP (feline infectious peritonitis). When she came back she looked very grim, and had brought scanning equipment. A ton of stuff was totally fine, but there was one thing, that was alarming. A number that should be over 8 in healthy cats, with 4-8 being troubling, and under 4 being 'that cat probably has FIP' was clocking in at a 3 for Mobius. But his red blood cells were fine and his organ markers were fine, so she did an ultra sound to look for fluids in his abdominal cavity, which is another sign of FIP. There was nothing. She's worried that it's just because we caught it super early.

But, we decided to proceed as if he's got a crazy infection, he got another injection of anti-nausea medication, new antibiotics, some fever-reduction pills, and an appetite stimulant that's a cream you rub on the inside of their ears, so it's absorbed through the skin.

He started perking up a lot. Still wasn't eating though. So this afternoon my mom stopped by with ten different kinds of wet food they had lying around (cat breeder behaviour), and we created a huge buffet on the kitchen floor. All my plates are in play. And eventually he started eating some shredded chicken in jelly. I don't know if you've ever cried from watching a cat eat, but I was fucking sobbing.

At this point, 12 hours later, I've had to refill the plate with that single fucking kind of wet food four times. He's almost halfway through a big can by now!

So I'm choosing to be delulu right now. I'm choosing to believe that those numbers were off because he hadn't eaten. Because he's completely back to normal now, behaviourally, and surely, surely he would not get better like this if he was fatally ill and about to die.

Anyway, if he does die I'm going to break. Just FYI.