#wishlist: richard price.

[sacrialege]

plot wishlist for richard price.

there are many people available to watch rosalie, richard’s little girl, but one day he decides that he wants an outsider. he wants someone completely unconnected to crime, someone he views as safe, to babysit rosalie when he’s away. the hiring process includes extensive background checks, public and private records pulled, etc. he’s overly cautious with the whole thing because that’s his baby girl, of course! after almost a month of continuous work and rigorous research and interviews, richard decides to hire your muse. they’re just a regular person with no connection to the crime world—not even a speeding ticket on their record—and they’re completely unaware of richard’s businesses. all they know of him is what the public knows: he’s a philanthropic rich man in a three-piece suit. he’s intimidating. he loves his daughter. after working for richard for a time, they begin to put together the pieces, possibly overhear a conversation or two they definitely weren’t supposed to, and maybe they begin to consider blackmail as an option to get a big lump sum of cash from richard. drama and angst ensue. also: give me the sweeter alternative to this, where they become aware and slowly start helping out more because of it. they accept richard’s late-night calls to look after rosalie, they don’t ask questions, they offer richard help whenever he needs it. they become an ally to richard and his business and eventually a friend of the family—and richard takes care of his family.

richie is a well-known face in his city and i want more plots centered around the concept!!! give me someone confronting him on horrible rumors when he’s spotted alone in a movie theater; give me interactions at big galas and business parties he’s invited to; give me sudden, awkward meetings between richard and a family member of an old associate who was killed on the job; give me someone going to richard for advice on starting a business, even though they’re very wary of him, because they know he’s really good at it; give me random meetings with strangers who recognize him not because of his rumored crimes, but because of public speeches and announcements he’s made; give me people coming to him for help because they’ve heard of his generosity instead of his cruelty; give me “fans” and people who attempt to get in good with him because they think it will get them places; give me people attempting to exploit him, loving him only for the doors it will open and the advantages it will give; give me eventual in-depth relationships that will build character development!!!

give me that one plot where a law enforcement agent goes deep undercover to infiltrate richard’s life in order to get information (either on him or someone he associates with) but then they end up falling for each other like crazy and by the time the secret comes out it’s already too late because he’s getting sent to a max security prison and the undercover agent is on the other side of the glass so they have to work together in 30-minute visitation rooms and through 5-minute phone calls to secretly plot his escape and then a getaway out of the country for the both of them because neither can go back to their previous lives after this. or, in another version, the secret comes out in a heat-of-the-moment confession (before any real harm has been done or maybe even in the thick of it) and richard’s first reaction is to take care of the threat as he’s always done: by killing them. but this time it can’t possibly go that way because he loves them. so now he’s basically got an undercover agent held hostage in some secret concrete room while he’s pacing around outside, torn and clueless on how to proceed, and the agent has to constantly remind him that if they don’t check in with their superiors every so often that the whole thing is going to go to shit anyway because the police will be at his door in minutes... and there’s just so much physical aggression but also soft touches in small moments of weakness that leave them both so confused. idk just give me the betrayal and anger and angst and sadness and all the feels pls thnx!!!

give me… more angst. one of richard’s closest men dies tragically on the job, leaving behind a struggling wife and kids. richard is a family man and he considers those involved in his crime enterprise to be family, and that doesn’t end simply because they are no longer with him. this man in particular was one of richard’s closest confidants and friends; having their families over for every holiday, birthday, and life milestone. for years now, both their families were intertwined in some way. his kids even referred to richard as “uncle.” so, richard grieves honorably and tries to make sure the family is taken care of in any way he can. he sends a sizable check (which is labeled as some kind of “workplace insurance” money on paper), food, and offers his help wherever and whenever possible. at the funeral, however, richard and any of his men who came are ran off before it begins. the wife doesn’t want them there. she blames richard for her husband’s death and, while she isn’t necessarily wrong in that, richard is heartbroken that she feels this way. she may or may not know what kind of work her husband was doing (dependent on plotting). richard doesn’t even get to apologize to her, however little it might have meant to her. give me richard trying his hardest to make amends; give me tears and anger and shared grief between the both of them when they finally talk again for the first time; give me the kids asking their mom when they’re going to see uncle richard again, but she knows she doesn’t want them around whatever richard has going on; give me richard’s daughter, rosalie, asking when she’s going to be able to play with her “cousins” again, but richard is unsure of what to tell her and he’s heartbroken again knowing that she might never get to; give me yelling and slammed doors when richard tries to come over and talk, declined calls and cold shoulders when the wife sees him in public; give me an eventual resolution—or not—and everything else that comes from that!!

[sacrialege-archive]

plot wishlist for richard price.

there are many people available to watch rosalie, richard’s little girl, but one day he decides that he wants an outsider. he wants someone completely unconnected to crime, someone he views as safe, to babysit rosalie when he’s away. the hiring process includes extensive background checks, public and private records pulled, etc. he’s overly-cautious with the whole thing because that’s his baby girl, of course! after almost a month of continuous work and rigorous researching and interviews, richard decides to hire your muse. they’re just a regular person with no connection to the crime world—not even a speeding ticket on their record—and they’re completely unaware of richard’s businesses. all they know of him is what the public knows: he’s a philanthropic rich man in a three-piece suit. he’s intimidating. he loves his daughter. after working for richard for a time, they begin to put together the pieces, possibly overhear a conversation or two they definitely weren’t supposed to, and maybe they begin to consider blackmail as an option to get a big lump sum of cash from richard. drama and angst ensue. also: give me the sweeter alternative to this, where they become aware and slowly start helping out more because of it. they accept richard’s late-night calls to look after rosalie, they don’t ask questions, they offer richard help whenever he needs it. they become an ally to richard and his business and eventually a friend of the family—and richard takes care of his family.

richie is a well-known face in his city and i want more plots centered around the concept!!! give me someone confronting him on horrible rumors when he’s spotted alone in a movie theater; give me interactions at big galas and business parties he’s invited to; give me sudden, awkward meetings between richard and a family member of an old associate who was killed on the job; give me someone going to richard for advice on starting a business, even though they’re very wary of him, because they know he’s really good at it; give me random meetings with strangers who recognize him not because of his rumored crimes, but because of public speeches and announcements he’s made; give me people coming to him for help because they’ve heard of his generosity instead of his cruelty; give me “fans” and people who attempt to get in good with him because they think it will get them places; give me people attempting to exploit him, loving him only for the doors it will open and the advantages it will give; give me eventual in-depth relationships that will build character development!!!

give me that one plot where a law enforcement agent goes deep undercover to infiltrate richard’s life in order to get information (either on him or someone he associates with) but then they end up falling for each other like crazy and by the time the secret comes out it’s already too late because he’s getting sent to a max security prison and the undercover agent is on the other side of the glass so they have to work together in 30-minute visitation rooms and through 5-minute phone calls to secretly plot his escape and then a getaway out of the country for the both of them because neither can go back to their previous lives after this. or, in another version, the secret comes out in a heat-of-the-moment confession (before any real harm has been done or maybe even in the thick of it) and richard’s first reaction is to take care of the threat as he’s always done: by killing them. but this time it can’t possibly go that way because he loves them. so now he’s basically got an undercover agent held hostage in some secret concrete room while he’s pacing around outside, torn and clueless on how to proceed, and the agent has to constantly remind him that if they don’t check in with their superiors every so often that the whole thing is going to go to shit anyway because the police will be at his door in minutes... and there’s just so much physical aggression but also soft touches in small moments of weakness that leave them both so confused. idk just give me the betrayal and anger and angst and sadness and all the feels pls thnx!!!

give me… more angst. one of richard’s closest men dies tragically on the job, leaving behind a struggling wife and kids. richard is a family man and he considers those involved in his crime enterprise to be family, and that doesn’t end simply because they are no longer with him. this man in particular was one of richard’s closest confidants and friends; having their families over for every holiday, birthday, and life milestone. for years now, both their families were intertwined in some way. his kids even referred to richard as “uncle.” so, richard grieves honorably and tries to make sure the family is taken care of in any way he can. he sends a sizable check (which is labeled as some kind of “workplace insurance” money on paper), food, and offers his help wherever and whenever possible. at the funeral, however, richard and any of his men who came are ran off before it begins. the wife doesn’t want them there. she blames richard for her husband’s death and, while she isn’t necessarily wrong in that, richard is heartbroken that she feels this way. she may or may not know what kind of work her husband was doing (dependent on plotting). richard doesn’t even get to apologize to her, however little it might have meant to her. give me richard trying his hardest to make amends; give me tears and anger and shared grief between the both of them when they finally talk again for the first time; give me the kids asking their mom when they’re going to see uncle richard again, but she knows she doesn’t want them around whatever richard has going on; give me richard’s daughter, rosalie, asking when she’s going to be able to play with her “cousins” again, but richard is unsure of what to tell her and he’s heartbroken again knowing that she might never get to; give me yelling and slammed doors when richard tries to come over and talk, declined calls and cold shoulders when the wife sees him in public; give me an eventual resolution—or not—and everything else that comes from that!!

[mostlysignssomeportents]

This day in history

Catch me in Miami! I'll be at Books and Books in Coral Gables on Jan 22 at 8PM.

#20yrsago Kodak gives up on film cameras https://web.archive.org/web/20040401104936/http://www.msnbc.msn.com/Default.aspx?id=3948032&p1=0

#20yrsago Tim O’Reilly’s 2004 wishlist https://web.archive.org/web/20040119133107/http://www.oreillynet.com/pub/wlg/4117

#20yrsago Gene Wolfe interviewed by Neil Gaiman https://web.archive.org/web/20040407120711/http://www.bordersstores.com/features/feature.jsp?file=gaimanwolfe

#20yrsago S-Train blogger confronts a troll in meatspace https://web.archive.org/web/20040211084754/http://s-train.kaphmedia.net/archives/000318.php

#15yrsago Complete fan-reading of my essay collection “Content” https://archive.org/details/CoryDoctorow-Content_268

#15yrsago Bush official: we tortured Gitmo detainee https://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2009/01/13/AR2009011303372_pf.html

#15yrsago Thomas Edison’s crappy, price-fixing EULA https://web.archive.org/web/20090125121517/http://www.alchemysite.com/blog/2009/01/eula-end-user-license-agreement-edison.html

#10yrsago Why fiction works https://locusmag.com/2014/01/cory-doctorow-cheap-writing-tricks/

#10yrsago Holding mirrors up to police lines at #Euromaidan https://web.archive.org/web/20140113120206/http://www.kyivpost.com/multimedia/photo/mirror-action-in-memory-of-nov-30-334467.html

#5yrsago China has a very Orwellian reason for banning typing “1984” on social media, while allowing people to read Nineteen Eighty-Four https://www.theatlantic.com/ideas/archive/2019/01/why-1984-and-animal-farm-arent-banned-china/580156/

#5yrsago Hannu Rajaniemi’s Summerland: a midcentury spy thriller, with the afterlife https://memex.craphound.com/2019/01/13/hannu-rajaniemis-summerland-a-midcentury-spy-thriller-with-the-afterlife/

#5yrsago Not customers: doctors have patients, libraries have patrons, lawyers have clients and teachers have students https://memex.craphound.com/2019/01/13/not-customers-doctors-have-patients-libraries-have-patrons-lawyers-have-clients-and-teachers-have-students/

#5yrsago Trump chose a thin-skinned, blowhard ignoramus as ambassador to Germany, and now no one will talk to him except Nazis https://www.spiegel.de/international/world/u-s-ambassador-richard-grenell-is-isolated-in-berlin-a-1247610.html

#5yrsago An embroidered computer whose circuits are ornate, golden thread https://ireneposch.net/the-embroidered-computer/

#1yrago Booklist on "Red Team Blues" https://pluralistic.net/2023/01/13/marty-hench/#red-team-blues

I'm Kickstarting the audiobook for The Bezzle, the sequel to Red Team Blues, narrated by @wilwheaton! You can pre-order the audiobook and ebook, DRM free, as well as the hardcover, signed or unsigned. There's also bundles with Red Team Blues in ebook, audio or paperback.

[trillian-anders]

four christmases

pairing: ransom drysdale x reader

warnings:  slight violence, angst, fluff, smut && SPOILERS

word count: 16k

description: part 2 of 5. CONTAINS MAJOR SPOILERS, PLEASE DO NOT READ IF YOU HAVE NOT WATCHED THE FILM. you’ve been working for the thrombeys for four years now,the last three years of your service being a glorified babysitter to the most annoying, self-absorbed, dickhead hugh ransom drysdale. These are the four christmases you’ve spent with the thrombey/drysdale clan during your times of service. 

a/n: this story is brought to you by season 4 of schitt’s creek and maybe 12 cups of coffee. it felt like it took forever to write, but i’m happy to bring it to you. this is the follow up for my other ransom one-shot ‘the assistant’. i hope you guys like it! 

2018

What a fucking asshole. 

“You have to be there, it’s your job.” Ransom huffed indignantly. You rolled your eyes from the passenger seat of his beamer, tablet open in your lap as you scrolled through your sister’s amazon wishlist. 

“I have a family too Ransom. I can’t just abandon my own family on Christmas just because you can’t get along with yours.” His knuckles turned white against the gear shift. Nothing else mattered, only him it seemed, and his whining Mommy complex. 

“You were hired to assist me,” Ransom pulled into the drive of his house, tires crunching on the gavel, “So assist.” What a fucking tool. He quickly exited the car not looking behind him to see if you were following into the house, but leaving the front door wide open with the expectation that you were coming right behind. 

You had just hopped onto this assistant gig a few months ago. There you were minding your own business as fall began, working for a temp agency, when Linda Drysdale rang you up and asked you to come work for the family again. You had recently been tutoring one of the youngest of the clan, Meg, with her English coursework for her last school year. The pay was good and you were kind of let down when they opted not to keep you on after summer concluded. 

Babysitting Ransom paid well, better than it had been to help Meg out, but was it really worth the price? Ransom was a fucking child. You cooked his meals, washed his laundry, and were forced to tail him as he went about whatever business he deemed worthy of his days. Just until 9 pm, that’s all you had to do. Twelve hours a day, five days a week. Off Sundays and Mondays. 

It felt like too much and not worth the paycheck. Even if the trust-fund asshole spent his days flirting around from one party to the next. More often than not he found himself a body to bring home leaving you to get an uber back to his place just so you could get your car to go home, or worse yet having you sit awkwardly in the backseat of the car as whoever was in the passenger seat desperately tried to give him road head. 

He loved it. You know he did. Eyes flitting to yours in the rear-view mirror as a girl ten years younger than him fumbled with his belt. A fucking smirk on his face. You wanted to punch him, but your sister’s private school tuition held you back. 

You followed him into the house, one you had just spent the entire morning cleaning as Ransom slept off his hangover. The prick had dropped his coat on the floor adjacent to the coat hook, shoes haphazardly kicked off beside it, glaring at him as you picked them up while he drank orange juice straight from the carton. 

“I’ll pay you time and a half if you come.” He bartered. 

“You don’t pay me anything,” You scoffed. “Your Mom pays me.” 

“Exactly.” He tossed the carton back in the fridge, coming around the counter to get closer to you. He dropped his voice in what he probably thought was a seductive whisper. The fire it lit in your core would lead you to believe that it actually was a seductive whisper and you just fucking hated him. “I’ll make it worth your while.” He drug a finger down your cheek softly. It only caused you to roll your eyes, batting his finger away and stripping yourself of your coat you turned back to him, 

“I want triple.” 

Your sister was going to be pissed, but she’ll survive once she realizes you were able to get her a new laptop for school. A compromise. 

She cried. 

The Thrombey’s were probably the worst people you’ve ever met in your entire life. Harlan was prideful, pompous. He cared about his family, to an extent. He created them after all, his monsters. 

Linda was okay, but she was a lot like her father. She felt as though she was better than everyone else simply because she ‘built herself from the ground up’ yeah, if the ground was a million dollars gifted from Daddy. Her husband, Richard, was a glorified sugar baby, you were sure at one point he was a real estate broker, but Linda had the business, he just rode on her coattails. 

Walt was a whiny bastard. He was meek. He walked around with a cane and you weren’t sure he even needed it. It could totally be a ploy to try and gain more sympathy from his father. His wife was a drunk, you couldn’t remember her name, but it didn’t matter because she wouldn’t talk to you anyway. You can’t talk if you always have your mouth wrapped around the lip of a martini glass. Their son, Jacob, was a little alt-right shit. Every comment that came out of his mouth was a dig on some less privileged 99% and if you didn’t need this job you’d shove his head in the toilet yourself.

That leads you to Joni and Meg. Joni and Ransom had both been given an allowance every month. That’s the way they were mostly the same. How they differed was that Joni was at least attempting to have some sort of entrepreneur business where she gained some income, but not enough to live the lifestyle she was accustomed to. She had Meg in this expensive ass private school that cost more than your salary a month and Meg found this group of liberal women and now she was becoming the extreme opposite of Jacob. They often bumped heads, with Meg slowly giving in. She always gave in. This was her family and as much as she wanted to fight for the 99% she never actually wanted to be one. 

But it was fine. 

It didn’t really matter. 

You just wanted to go home. 

Ransom hasn’t had an empty hand all day thanks to you. “If I’m ever without a drink,” He said on the way over, “You’re walking home.” So this is where you’re standing, with Marta and Fran, you sipping on a weak mimosa that Marta had compromised on, waiting for the day to be over. 

Ransom’s eyes met yours from across the room, hand raising his glass, the last little mouthful swishing against its side. You sighed and rolled your eyes, turning to grab the decanter behind you, walking over to fill his glass. “So I told him to shove it up his ass,” Linda was telling Harlan a story, “If you think for one moment I would give in to anything less than market price you’re out of your mind.” Please love me, she was saying, please see that I’m the best child you have. Harlan’s eyes were dazed, not looking at hers. Thinking. He was always thinking. 

The only time Ransom didn’t need you was when he disappeared into his Grandfather’s office. Presents were handed out just before, new iphones, apple watches, macbooks, cartier bracelets, rolexes, a couple of little bonus checks to their allowances, the spirit of Christmas was definitely lost on this family. 

It doesn’t matter. 

You had just filled Ransom’s glass before he entered the study and you knew he wouldn’t need you until some kind of argument broke out with his Grandfather and you had to be ready to leave the house at a moment’s notice. 

“How’s it goin’ kid?” Richard always kind of made you uncomfortable. He seemed normal, but you were uncomfortable in a ‘this is a rich older white man who liked to corner you alone’ kind of way. For the most part he’s been harmless. 

One time, this was early on when you first started to tutor Meg, he found you in a similar way. Alone, in the kitchen. This was one of the first times he had met you and he was sure to let you know, “You’ve got a really pretty face, you know that?” Ew. Thanks? He had gotten close, too close. “How’d a pretty girl like you end up as a tutor?” That’s worse. And cheesy. This looked like one of those times, except he’d been drinking since 8 am. 

“I’m fine thanks.” You had been trying to find a minute of peace. There was always someone talking in this house, during ‘debates’ there were usually three or four. This was supposed to be a break. Ransom having been passed off to another wet nurse he could suck off of while you got some rest, and maybe sneak a couple of those expensive chocolate artisanal cookies for good measure. Richard grinned at you, not in the way Ransom would when he was fucking with you, but something more predatory. He was feeling ambitious. 

“I just wanted to give you this,” He slipped an envelope across the counter to you, hand resting on it, waiting for you to take it. As your hand met the envelope, he did the fucking worst thing he could possibly do in this moment, and took your hand. Your heart was racing and you felt wildly uncomfortable. He held your hand, taking a step into your space, body crowding yours against the counter. You stared him down, please just let me go. Please just fucking let me go. “How’s my son treating you?” He asked. What exactly did he think you were doing for his son?

“Fine.” You swallowed harshly. Please just let me go. You could smell the whiskey on his breath, face coming closer to yours. 

“If you ever need anything…” Closer and closer. You wished you could pull back completely, get out of this situation, but the vice grip he currently had on your hand was making it difficult. 

“Y/N.” Your eyes snapped over to the doorway, Ransom. His jaw was clenched, face flushed from what you were sure was an argument with Harlan. “We’re leaving.” Richard turned and smiled at his son, releasing your hand. You quietly slipped the envelope into your jeans pocket, backing yourself away from him, and joining Ransom across the room where his eyes hadn’t yet left his father. It wasn’t until you made it to the front door, grabbing your coat from the coat rack did he stomp his way out of the house, digging his car keys from his pockets. 

“Ransom I don’t think you should be driving-” You started, but he turned to you, eyes wild. This scared you. 

“Get in the car.” He demanded. Fuck, he’s drunk.

“Ransom you’re drunk, you can’t drive right now.” His eyes looked behind you and you turned to look at his family, peeking out through the curtains to watch the show. He quickly grabbed your arm, tugging you to the passenger seat, wrenching the door open and shoving you in, slamming the door behind you to circle around to the drivers side. “Just let me drive.” You pleaded. He slammed his own car door, revving the engine and quickly whipping the car out of the driveway. 

He wasn’t saying anything and Ransom always had something to say. 

“Ransom-”

“Shut the fuck up.” His knuckles were white against the wheel, eyes staring straight ahead as he began gaining speed. 

60 mph,

65 mph,

70…

“Slow down!” He was scaring you, these roads were winding and dark, his high beams only did so much and you weren’t sure how many deer you’d be seeing tonight. His foot was heavy on the accelerator. 

75

80

85

“Ransom please!” You cried. His breathing was heavy. His eyes were moving wildly left to right as he moved the wheel to turn.

90

95

100

You were going to die. This was it, this was the end. The car hit the open road, the interstate, and to the left of the on ramp you had just flew through was a cop. Their lights started flashing, red and blue filling the car as Ransom kept accelerating. It wasn’t late at night, probably around nine or so. There were other cars here as Ransom kept gaining speed, swerving in and out of traffic. “You’ve got to pull over!” You yelled at him.

105

110

115

“Ransom for the love of god, fucking stop!” His eyes looked in the rearview, two cops now. It was then he began to slow down, moving over to the side of the road, your heart still racing in your chest. You relax your fingers which you didn’t even realize was gripping Ransom’s bicep in a steel grip. Both of you breathing heavily inside the car. It wasn’t until the cop heavily banged on the window that either of you even moved. 

“Sir, I’m gonna have to ask you to step out of the vehicle.” A bright flashlight in your face as you dug around for his registration and insurance in the glove box. Exiting the car and circling to the trunk as Ransom was handing the four cops bills from his money clip. Why the fuck did Ransom have a money clip full of hundreds? Ransom’s eyes met yours as he stuffed his money clip back in his coat pocket before tossing you the keys which you caught awkwardly. 

“Take me home.” 

You looked over at the cops who were getting back in their squad cars before quietly getting in the driver's seat and shutting the door. Your heart was still pounding and as the adrenaline began wearing off you suddenly grew very tired. 

“Drive.” You didn’t want to hear his voice. You never wanted to see his face again. You never even wanted to hear his name again. 

“You’re the fucking worst.” You could feel yourself crying. That was the most terrifying experience you’ve ever had in your life. 

“Well you’re fucking my father so,” He sunk down in his seat. “I think I have some competition.”

“I’m not fucking your father!” You exclaimed, hand hitting the steering wheel. You hear him scoff from the passenger seat.

“Not today since I walked in on you. Which is funny, you put on this whole show about not wanting to be around my family and what was it all for? A fucking ploy so I didn’t know.” Ransom didn’t fucking know how much of a goddamn idiot he was being right now. 

As the gravel crunched beneath the tires of the beamer, your argument continued. “I’m not fucking your father, I’ve never fucked your father, and I never will fuck your father.” He wasn’t hearing you. 

“Is this why Linda pays you so much?” He scoffed, exiting the car. He looked at you from over the roof and continued, “So you keep Richard out of her bed?” You hadn’t stopped crying. Still half going from fear and the other half from frustration. It was so goddamn cold out that the tears were freezing against your cheeks. 

“Ransom, I am not fucking your father!” You yelled, “The reason she pays me what she does is because the exact fucking thing you’re doing right now.” He rolled his eyes, walking up to the front door of his house, 

“Give me my keys.” 

“No.” You were still standing by the car, keys fisted in your hand. “You’re being a fucking asshole right now.” 

He clenched his fist, slamming it into the front door before turning back to you and yelling, “Give me my fucking keys Y/N.” You both looked at one another for a moment. 

You took a deep breath. “I have nothing to do with your father Ransom. My only job is to wait on you like a fucking servant and that is what I get paid to do. Not be your fucking punching bag when your family turns out to be a bunch of dicks-”

“Give me-”

“I’m not finished!” You screamed. Tears were still streaming heavily down your face and Ransom stood five feet away from you awkwardly letting you continue. “I don’t deserve this Ransom. I really fucking don’t. You literally almost just fucking killed me. So you’re going to say you’re sorry, you’re going to go into your fucking house, you’re going to give me what you promised me for even having to deal with this shit tonight, and you’re going to give me the rest of the week off.” 

It was silent for a moment. The two of you standing in the cold Massachusetts air in silence. Your face was starting to burn and as the silence stretched on you began to doubt everything you just said. Fuck this could cost you the job. The envelope Richard had handed you weighed heavily in your pocket. Hopefully it would be enough to hold you over until you could get back to the temp agency. 

Ransom let out a breath he had been holding, turning fully to you, and walking down the two steps of his porch. You flinched back away from him, looking at his knuckles that were split and bleeding from punching the door. His eyes met yours and he looked like he was debating something. 

“I’m sorry.” His words were soft and whispered, hand coming forward with an open palm, waiting for his keys. You gently gave them back to him. That soft, whispered, ‘I’m sorry’ stunned you. You didn’t expect your yelling to actually work. You expected to be fired. His keys jingled as he reached in his pocket and brought that money clip back out, extracting a bundle of hundreds and holding them out to you between two fingers. “Go home.” 

That was never spoken of again. The thing with Richard in the kitchen, being pulled over on 95, the screaming match that ensued, and nothing was ever said about the solid gold, $6,500 cartier bracelet that was by no doubt wrapped at the store that was waiting for you when you arrived back at work five days later. 

2019

“What did he do?” You were sweating. It was so fucking hot in here, but you were afraid to take off your coat. The fanfare in which the detectives had pulled up to your apartment complex was embarrassing, quickly bringing you down to the police station and shoving you in an interrogation room. 

“What did who do?” The man who had introduced himself as Lieutenant Elliot asked you. Shit. What the fuck did Ransom do? The death of Harlan Thrombey was sudden, right after his birthday just two weeks ago. It was unsettling, the suicide. The funeral was uncomfortable to say the least. Ransom told you to go and then didn’t go himself so you stood there like some weird interloper on the tails of everyone’s grief. 

You were going to throw up, you’ve never so much as gotten a speeding ticket but suddenly you had a kilo of coke on you and an unlicensed gun. “Where were you the night Harlan Thrombey committed suicide?” You picked at your fingernails. 

“I was at the party,” Your throat was so dry, you were afraid to touch the glass of water they had set before you, “I always feel strange around the family so unless Ransom needs me I try to hide out in the kitchen.” 

“You’re his assistant?” Elliot asked, “He doesn’t have a job, so what exactly do you assist with?”

“I’m pretty much his babysitter.” You explained, “I make sure he doesn’t get into too much trouble…” It’s ironic right? You bit your bottom lip. “Why am I here exactly?” The other man in the room, Wagner, spoke up, 

“Hugh Drysdale has been arrested in the murder of Harlan Thrombey’s housekeeper.” Elliot gave him a dirty look. 

“Fran’s dead?” The shock was evident on your face. You leaned back in the uncomfortable metal chair, discarding your coat and scarf and taking a large mouthful of water. 

“You seemed surprisingly absent from Hugh’s side throughout the aftermath of Harlan’s suicide, why is that?” The third man spoke up from his spot sitting in the corner of the room, the thick southern accent was almost comical. 

“Ransom gave me time off,” You recalled, voice trailing off as you finish your sentence, “He said I could go to my sister’s cello recital…”  Did he really kill her? “Why would he kill Fran?” It made no sense. “I mean, he’s an asshole, but murder?”

They played a recording. Ransom in his own, self-righteous, pompous voice. Fuck me. What a fucking idiot. “So tell us where you were on the dates in question, spare no details.”

You had thought it strange, Ransom had left you stranded at the Thrombey house and you were forced to find your own way back to his house to get your car. It wasn’t at all strange that when you got to his house his car wasn’t there. You’d just assumed he’d gone out. It wasn’t uncommon for him to go out after finding arguments with his family. But the next day when he suggested that you take the week off, spend time with your sister, go to that recital you didn’t know he knew about, you checked his forehead with your wrist.

“Are you sick?” You had asked. He gently pushed your wrist off of his forehead, giving you a terse look. 

“Harlan committed suicide last night, the funeral is tomorrow, but after that you should take some time. I need some time.” Your heart broke a bit. Yeah Ransom and Harlan butt heads all the time, but they were practically the same person so it made sense to you that they would fight. Both prideful assholes. 

“I’m so sorry Ransom.” Should you hug him? You didn’t know. You two didn’t have any physical contact really. You’d never seen him hug anyone. So no, no hugs. “Is there anything I can do for you?” You opted to just gently lay your hand on his wrist. His eyes met yours for a moment, silence. 

“Just come to the funeral.” With that he stood up and walked away. 

That’s why it was so off-putting when the bastard didn’t even show up to the funeral and as you stood there with his sobbing family you figured next time you saw him you were going to spit in his coffee. 

“I haven’t seen him since the day before the funeral.” You admitted to the officers. “He asked me to go, and didn’t even show up.” 

“If we have any other questions we’ll let you know.” And you were released from questioning, but you had so many questions yourself. Arson? Fran? He attempted to murder Marta. Was this worth it? The fucking asshole never had to work for anything in his life, and even now as you stood in the courtroom waiting to see what bail would be set as so you could relay to Linda, you wanted to smack his pretty little face for being such a fucking idiot. 

A bailiff read out the case number and in walked Ransom. You’d never seen him in any outfit that cost less than your rent and here the bastard was, walking in with a black and white striped jumpsuit, the county jail logo stamped in red on the back.  You were the only person that showed up for him. Linda was half waiting for you to text her a dollar amount so she could pay his bail, the other half of her was debating on whether to leave him there or not. At least, that’s what she told you anyway. 

You could only imagine what you looked like to him. Your eyes were puffy and red from just crying in the parking lot for an hour in between getting questioned and coming to his hearing. Before that the detectives had taken you practically from your bed. But you were here, in yoga pants and a sweatshirt, coat pulled over the ratty thing, and snow boots on your feet. It started snowing this morning. 

His eyes caught yours as soon as he entered, but he quickly looked away. It was like a goddamn movie, his wrists cuffed to his waist, a chain leading down to the cuffs around his ankles. 

Ransom Drysdale murdered someone. 

A chill went down your spine, “Bail set at a million dollars.” And a gavel. Cameras clicking behind you. Thirty minutes later you were waiting for his release. You handed a dry cleaning bag with clothes to the officer at the front desk. 

Ransom Drysdale murdered someone. 

It wasn’t long before the secure, thick, metal door behind the metal detectors opened and Ransom was walking through it back to you. He wouldn’t meet your eyes, quickly circling to the desk to get his phone, wallet, and keys back. The garment bag was shoved back in your hands containing the clothes he was wearing when he was arrested, and then he was out the doors of the county jail, speed walking to your car. His was taken in as evidence. 

You used your key fob to unlock the car, Ransom wordlessly climbing in the passenger seat and slamming the door behind him as you settled in the driver’s. This was uncomfortable. You drove in silence for a minute, awkwardly leaning over to turn on the radio. The song only played for a second before Ransom leaned over, smacking the button to turn it off again. 

“Just say it.” He spat out at you. Your hands gripped the steering wheel tightly. 

“Say what, Ransom?” You were scared of him now and he could tell. He breathed harshly through his nose. You could feel his eyes on you. 

“Aren’t you going to ask me if I did it? Why I did it? Yell at me for being a fucking idiot?” He threw his hands up in frustration. There was a beat of silence more, “Say something.” 

“I don’t know what to say!” You really didn’t. What do you even say? You’ve been cursing him for a while. In your head. Cursing him since you left the interrogation earlier. You didn’t know what any of this meant for your job, if you’ll be able to keep your sister in school, if you’ll be able to even afford the apartment you two live in right now. And all because Ransom wasn’t getting anymore fucking money from his Grandfather the fucking prick. 

“Anything. Fucking say…” He leaned over in his seat, growing close to you. “Are you scared of me?” He smirked. Not in his, I’m playing with you and getting my way, smirk. And not in his, I’m making you weirdly uncomfortable and it really gets me off, smirk. But some sick sinister type of smirk that made your stomach roll. 

“You fucking murdered someone Ransom.” You said between clenched teeth. He studied you for a minute before settling back in his seat. Silence took over until you made it to the front door of his house. Lawyers should be coming by in about an hour to start working on his case, his parents should be here soon as well seeing as they were backing all of this. 

“You think I would hurt you?” Ransom asked as he stripped himself of his coat, purposefully letting it fall to the floor just so you’d have to pick it up. You left it there. He turned to look at you, still in the doorway of his house. “I killed Fran because I had to.” He spat. “It was for the bigger fucking picture. You want to be paid don’t you? You like having money right?”

“Your Mom pays me Ransom.” You stated calmly. His voice was escalating in volume as he continued.

“So fucking what? Who bought you that fucking coat, huh?” He was talking about the expensive wool coat you are currently wearing. He bought it for you after seeing that your old bubble coat had stuffing pouring out of the right pocket. You didn’t ask for it. “Who pays for your fucking phone, huh?” You had a month-by-month plan before. Ransom gifted you and your sister iphones sometime in the spring, saying that he needed to be able to reach you without having every call get dropped due to bad reception. Your sister’s was just because they were buy-one-get-one, or so he said. You didn’t ask for it. “And that fucking bracelet on your wrist too? Is my Mom buying you jewelry? Or just me and my fucking Dad?” He was still under the impression that something had gone on between you and his father apparently. 

“That’s it! I’m done.” You yelled back at him. “I fucking quit.”  You stripped the coat off your shoulders and tossed  it on the floor beside his watching his mouth snap shut. You wiggled the bracelet off your wrist and threw that down on top of it before slipping your phone out of the side pocket of your yoga pants and throwing that on the pile. “I’ll mail Julia’s phone back to you.” You still hadn’t stepped foot inside the house, turning to walk back to your car when Ransom’s thundering footsteps could be heard behind you. 

Fuck he was going to kill you. 

It had continued to snow throughout the morning, the soft white stuff still falling heavily from the sky as you rushed to your car, you had to get away. You didn’t make it far before Ransom’s arms wrapped around your body from behind, tugging you tightly to his chest. You let out a loud scream before he covered your mouth with his hand. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” He whispered quickly into your ear. “Please stop, I’m sorry.” His large body was bent over your back as you were crouched over trying to get him to release you, both of you breathing heavily as you settled against him. “Y/N I’m sorry.” He slowly started walking the two of you back toward the house, “I’m not gonna hurt you!” He shouted as you tried to bite his hand. He uncovered your mouth, arms loosening. “I’m not gonna hurt you,” He repeated a little more calmly. 

He brought you back into the house, shutting the door softly behind him. You wanted to leave, eyes tearing up. What the fuck were you supposed to do now? Ransom stood for a moment with his back against the door before peeling the wet socks off of his feet. You hadn’t realized that he took his shoes off when he originally came in. His feet were bright red from the cold. You glanced to your left at the knife block there, slowly backing away. 

“No, no, no, I’m not going to hurt you.” He sunk down to his knees. He looked like a fucking idiot, face flushed from the cold, kneeling in front of the door. He slowly made his way over to you, not rising from his knees, shuffling forward with his hands open and facing you. Your heart was racing as he stopped at your feet, slowly moving his arms to wrap around your waist, burying his face in your ratty old college sweatshirt. 

He was hugging you. Actually hugging you, on his knees, face turned into your belly. You could have sworn he whispered, “Please don’t go.” But you couldn’t be sure. 

A pot of coffee was made, coats picked up, and floor mopped before the lawyers and his parents arrived. The only evidence of your earlier fight was the absence of the cartier bracelet you refused to put back on. It sat heavily in Ransom’s pants pocket. Their discussion was loud in the living room and no one looked up as you lay the coffee and finger foods on the coffee table, Ransom’s cup unmade for him out of spite. As you turned to make your way back to the kitchen, Richard’s hand shot out to grab you harm, halting your movements, 

“Grab me some Macallan for me, would you sweetheart?” Your eyes flit over to Ransom, who’s jaw twitched, sharing a look with you before looking back to his lawyers and mother. 

This was none of your business, but you needed to know what your future was going to look like. Were you out of a job? If Ransom went to prison there would be no one to babysit. So yeah, you would be. He admitted on tape to arson and murder. Pre-meditated arson was minimum of 10 years, Murder was 30 years. He’s looking at at least 40 years in prison. He would be an old man before he was even allowed parole. 

The group grew silent, or you couldn’t hear them as you started dinner for that evening. You were sure the four of them would be staying. “Y’N, would you come here please?” That was Linda. 

You made your way over to the group, shuffling nervously in your wool socks. “Yes Mrs. Drysdale?” Linda smiled, 

“It’s back to Thrombey now, but that’s another issue.” Hmmm. “If I was willing to pay you…. Say four times what you’re making now, would you take Ransom’s house arrest? That is, if we are able to work the judge down to that.” 

“House arrest?” You looked to Ransom confused, he wasn’t meeting your eyes. “Murder and Arson-”

“The only proof they have is the recording, the only thing they’re going to be able to pin on Mr. Drysdale here would be the attempted murder of the nurse.” A chill went down your spine, 

“You tried to kill Marta too?” You asked Ransom, incredulously. He didn’t respond, popping a cube of cheese into his mouth. His lawyers made you uncomfortable, they were definitely sleazy and you knew money could get you far in the justice system. If that recording was 75% of the evidence against Ransom and it was suddenly and accidentally destroyed, they would only have what was actually witnessed. 

“Well, would you?” Linda asked again. 

“I uhm… I have a sister who lives with me, I can’t just-”

“I’m sure there’s someone else who can take care of her. How long would it be for?” She looked to the lawyers, “Two or three years?” This was impossible. You couldn’t. Linda looked back at you. “How about this…” She leaned over and clasped your hands softly. “We will pay for your sister’s school, her housing, everything she needs while you’re doing this for us, and you’ll still get paid what I originally offered.”

“If Ransom gets house arrest?” You asked. 

“Yes ‘if’.” She was selling it hard. Julia could stay with your aunt. She didn’t live far from where the two of you currently reside. The majority of your income went to her school, books, clothes, rent, and groceries. Having all of that taken care of would mean you’d be getting four times your current salary and not having to spend any of it. Just for a couple years. 

“If Ransom gets house arrest,” you looked over at him, his eyes briefly meeting yours, studying you it felt like, “If he does, I will do what you need me to do. But I don’t even know how-” Linda’s hands quickly released yours. 

“We will figure that out when the time comes,” Linda has a shit eating grin on her face, “Write up a contract.” Directed at the lawyers, “Now, how are we going to get our hands on that recording?” That’s it. You were dismissed until they needed you again. 

“Why would you do that?” Ransom asked you. Everyone had left a little bit ago, you were busy washing the dishes, knowing as soon as this task was finished you’d be able to go home and this day from hell would be over. 

“Do what?” There was a piece of cheese melted on the side of the casserole dish that wouldn’t fucking come off. 

“Agree to take my punishment?” You paused in your scrubbing, 

“That’s if they actually settle on house arrest.” You finally unwedged the cheese, rinsing off the casserole dish and placing it in the dishwasher. 

“Hmpf.” Ransom had been cold and distant since he burrowed his head into your belly. Has to make up for his extreme weakness then. “But why?” He asked again.

You turned to him, eyes staring directly into his. You watched him fiddling with the gold bracelet you had taken off earlier, it was in his hand down by his side. “It’s what you said earlier right?” You scoffed, removing the rubber gloves from your hands and throwing them in the sink. You walked closer to him, not breaking eye contact. “Because I need the fucking money.” 

The two of you didn’t talk for the rest of the weekend. Usually there was texting here and there, ‘Where are my grey socks, the ones I usually wear with the navy Ralph Lauren slacks?’ or ‘Next week when you meal prep for my weekend can you make me this?’ with a link to a recipe. ‘Pick me up a pack of magnums on your way in.’ Fuck you. 

You got him regular Trojans. 

Monday was Christmas luckily enough, and you knew you weren’t going in. Ransom didn’t even text you to see where you were. His account was rapidly depleting funds, you checked every once in a while. 

234.72 ETRN-STD

523.50 DRNK

435.62 HAWTHNE

The list went on. Multiple spots a day over the weekend. That’s who he was going to be now, the old fucking white dude who sits at a bar all day hitting on girls uncomfortably too young. How many giggling 18 year olds would you kick out crying and screaming the next day? Disgusting.  

“Do you have them?” Them meaning the cookies that were currently at the bottom of your reusable Aldi bag. Your sister, Julia, was off to your right, setting a pot with water on the stove to boil. It was Christmas, just the two of you, and with the aftermath of everything that was going on with the Thrombey/Drysdale clan, you were happy to get some time off to relax. You might even push it so that you wouldn’t have to work tomorrow. We’ll see if Ransom texts you. 

“Of course I do.” This bag has been in your closet all weekend. There’s a bakery near your apartment that your Mom would take you to all the time, every time you got an A, won a game, gotten an award. Everything they made reminded you of her, and it was something you craved more than anything. Every Christmas they would make these fresh baked cookie packs with all kinds, chocolate chip, double chocolate chunk, snicker doodle, gingerbread, white chocolate macadamia, chocolate and peanut butter. 

Every Christmas, after dinner, you and your sister would slouch in front of the TV with scalding hot cups of hot chocolate and devour almost the whole box. Every year except last year when at the time your sister was home alone watching The Grinch you were in a car with Ransom going over a hundred miles an hour and scared for your life. This Christmas, Ransom would not be getting between the two of you, food was cooking, lights in the living room were dimmed. The tree was all lit up and the presents you had exchanged earlier that morning sat unwrapped beneath it. 

Christmas music was playing softly on the tv as you heard someone knock on your front door. 

“Coming!” You yelled. It wasn’t uncommon for a neighbor to have forgotten something, sugar, butter, milk, that they needed for dinner. It wasn’t uncommon for you to answer your door without looking through the peephole. What was uncommon was Ransom Drysdale standing sheepishly on the other side. His cheeks, nose, and eyes were red. The cheeks and nose from the cold, the eyes probably from the alcohol you could smell on him. You sighed heavily, feeling a headache coming on, “What are you doing here?” 

“Bar called me an uber and I didn’t want to go home.” He explained quickly, words slurring slightly. 

“Your parents-”

“Fuck my parents!” He yelled, you quickly shushed him, looking down the halls to see if anyone was peeking out into the hallway. “Fuck my parents.” He said quietly. 

“Ransom…” You sighed, stepping out into the hall, closing the door softly behind you. “What do you want?” His eyes were glazed, he shrugged dumbly, swaying forward. “Okay big guy,” I guess this is happening, “Come on.” You quietly ushered him inside, shutting the door softly behind you. 

“Who is it? Oh, woah.” Julia’s eyes bugged out of her head, shifting over to you. ‘Murderer’ she mouthed. 

“Go set the table.” You ushered Ransom over to the small table that could barely seat the two of you let alone a third, quickly brewing a pot of coffee and keeping an eye on your sister who was scared to get to close to him. “He’s harmless Julia.” You reassured her, or were you reassuring yourself so that you didn’t feel like such a bad guardian, letting a murderer into your home. He was past angry drunk Ransom, which is probably why the bar kicked him out, he was sad Ransom right now. You’d never seen him cry but this was probably the closest you were going to get to it. He was quiet, sat in the chair just staring as you and your sister finished dinner. 

You poured him a cup of coffee and a glass of water, hoping to sober him up enough that you could safely send him home later on. The three of you sat down to eat. Ransom staring listlessly out the window. You made him a plate and told him to eat. And he did. You told him to finish his water. And he did. You told him to finish his coffee. And he did. This was almost terrifying. He hadn’t said anything since ‘fuck my parents’, and he looked dead on his feet. 

“Send him home,” Your sister pleaded. The man hadn’t moved. Cleanup had already started and finished, he was still nursing the third glass of water you’d given him. Cookies were warming in the oven. His eyes were less glassy now. He was slowly sobering up. The large helping of mashed potatoes and three bread rolls he ate didn’t hurt either. 

“He’s my boss, I can’t really kick him out.” You explained, “Let me get him sober enough that I know he’s okay and then he’ll go home.” She rolled her eyes at you, stirring the pot of hot chocolate on the stove, adding more chunks of chocolate to melt. Ransom, still unspeaking, didn’t protest when you moved him into the living room, setting him up in the recliner with his own cup of hot chocolate and three cookies, before snuggling down with your sister and watching How the Grinch Stole Christmas. You moved only once when he tapped the mug against your arm. 

More.

“I’ve never done anything.” He said. “Never went to college, barely graduated high school.” He was rambling to himself, maybe to you? “I’ve spent the entirety of my adult years inside someone’s cunt.” 

“Alright, Julia. Time for bed.” You ignored her whining protests. The movie wasn’t over yet. “Please?” You begged her. She hated Ransom. You knew this. She knows you know this. ‘All he does is take you from me.’ is what she once said to you. Just to treat you like shit. 

“I have no money.” Ransom’s eyes met yours. “None.” 

“I know Ransom.” He scoffed. 

“I’m no better off than you now.” 

“You still have your house. I’d say you are still better off.” You started cleaning up around him, letting the asshole sit in his self-pity. 

“C’mere.” It was a quiet request. The Grinch was packing up his sleigh in the background. You dropped the two mugs you were holding onto the counter, circling back to the recliner. Ransom’s hand came out soft, wrapping around your forearm and gently guiding you to sit in his lap.

“Ransom, I don’t think this is appropriate.” You tried to pull away, heartbeat beginning to pick up. His still bloodshot eyes raised to meet yours. 

“Please hold me.” Fuck. What were you supposed to do with that? Heart melting you sunk into his lap, wrapping your arms around him and pulling him in tight. It was quiet for a while. Sitting with the credits rolling, Ransom’s arms wrapped around your waist while yours were wrapped around his shoulders. Comforting him from whatever crisis he was currently going through. 

“Marta ruined everything” He whispered into your neck. 

“No Ransom, you did.” 

2020

The trial, fuck me, the trial. The whole fucking family showed to watch Ransom crash and burn and get exactly what he deserved. Well that and to stare down Marta Cabrera who sat with the prosecution in some shiny new digs, a stunning gold cartier bracelet on her wrist. That was familiar. Ransom’s cheap bought apology. There was a tension there, you knew. He always had a thing for ‘the help’. You wondered if that’s where he had been this past week. But it’s strange isn’t it? This whole situation. It was unsettling and for some reason you felt irreversibly used.  

“I knew the knife was a prop.” And that was that. Audio recording gone, attempted murder charge whittled down to aggravated assault. A slap on the wrist. Two years of house arrest. And here you were, in Ransom’s home with a fucking house arrest bracelet making your ankle itch. Unfucking believable. Ransom had sat in the courtroom, head raised, armani suit, legs crossed and body relaxed. He knew he was getting out of this from the minute he walked in. 

The Thrombey trial that was supposedly going to last three months only lasted a week. You still had a job, and in a remarkable turn of events Linda Drysdale and their legal team got exactly what they predicted. 

“I’m going out.” Was the first thing Ransom told you as you unpacked your clothes. He had half thought to buy you a bed and a small dresser that he haphazardly got someone to shove between his Pam Anderson Baywatch poster and the unplugged Space Invaders original arcade console. This was a 90s teenage boy’s dream bedroom. And now it was yours. He didn’t give you much time to respond and he was gone. 

They say that you never really know someone until you live with them. And you’ve never felt that saying more true. Ransom was a fucking asshole. 

During your previous employment schedule you would come in at 9 am with breakfast and let him know of anything he needed to do that day, if his Mom needed him for whatever reason, events his was scheduled to go to, dates he promised he’d keep. He’d let you know what to cancel and what he would get ready for, and then you were off. Cleaning and maintaining the home to the best of your ability, binge watching tv shows, trying new recipes from pinterest. 

Ransom was disgusting. 

Clothes discarded all over his floor, bedroom, living room, hallways. Beard trimmings all over the sink and what you would hopefully assume were more beard trimmings lining the bottom of his shower. You really didn’t want to think about Ransom’s pubic hair situation. He would do things like take his coffee mugs into his room or into the study and leave like a sip left in each one, letting it sit there until the milk began to curdle. Wet towels shoved into corners and every morning when you went in to make his bed it was like he was running in his sleep, loose and fitted scrunched in the corner of the foot board, duvet thrown off and pillows with half off shams. 

He was doing this shit on purpose. 

And you hated him for it. 

It wasn’t long after the trial that he began a steady routine. Gym, breakfast, some puttering around the house, making plans and then he would go out. And that’s when we come to this, 

“He said he would be back and we would have breakfast together.” The girl was pretty, but her voice was annoying. 

“I’m one hundred percent sure he did not say that.” You stood with arms crossed in the doorway, watching her fix her face in the mirror propped against his bedroom wall. An old antique thing that didn’t match with the decor of the house at all. 

“Hmpf.” She glared at you, “Fine, when he gets back, we’ll see who is right.” This was before you became practiced at this kind of thing. 

You felt your phone buzz in the pocket of your jeans, 

Is she gone yet? 

Fucking prick. 

“I’ll have him call you when he gets in,” You explained, “He has a lot to do today, I’m sure if he said you’ll go out for breakfast it’ll probably be another day.” 

“I said.” She stepped up to you, “I’m staying.” Fuck. You rolled your eyes and walked past her into the room, 

Not leaving, come deal with her yourself

He had been waiting down the street like a psycho, waiting to see her leave so he can come back home, but it’s not really working out in his favor. You could feel her eyes on you as you made the bed and picked his laundry up from the floor, tossing them two feet away into the laundry basket you left in his bathroom in hopes he would actually use it. The socks left discarded beside it was a clear message of disregard, a ‘fuck you’ from a petulant child. 

You could hear the door slam downstairs. Great, you looked at the girl who was scrolling through her phone curled up in the reading chair in the corner of his room, he’s pissed. You could hear his stomping feet climb the stairs and the girl looked up from her phone hopeful towards the door. 

“Alright, time to go.” He huffed, coming into view. The girl stood from the chair, shifting over towards him and trying to wrap her arms around his neck. “Nope. Let’s go, your uber is here.” 

“But, I-” She began, you could see tears welling up in her eyes and you began to feel bad for her. 

You were never one to have one night stands. You had one serious boyfriend when you were in college, but when your Mom got sick you had ended it and moved back home. You hadn’t dated or been with anyone else since. You just didn’t have the time. That being said, this girl honestly thought Ransom had a heart. She was naive and young, younger than you. Your heart hurt for her, but honestly, no one should be with Ransom anyway. 

His birthday dinner had soon come and gone. Linda and Richard sat around the dinner table eating Ransom’s favorite foods you’d spent the day cooking for him. Drinking whiskey and wine, Ransom’s glass never empty. You’d had a few glasses yourself with the tapas style dinner you’d put together. A beautifully iced spice cake sitting on the counter with unlit candles for dessert. 

This was the night that Ransom blew up on you for the last time. The night he cried into your neck, drunk and unstable. Clutching desperately at your body for comfort, burying himself against you all touch starved and needy. This was more intense than last Christmas where his dry eyed stare begged you to hold him in an uncommon moment of weakness. 

He was so hard to read sometimes and you were never quite sure where you stood. You knew you really hated him sometimes, other times… not so much. The more you knew his parents, the more you understood why Ransom was an ungrateful shit to begin with. You almost couldn’t blame him for how he turned out.

Almost. 

“Help me with this.” He stood in the doorway to the small office he never used. It was pretty much just for show. A large wooden ornate desk, his macbook, and a bookshelf full of books you know he probably never read. Including the ones penned by his own Grandfather. 

There were beginnings here. Multi-colored post its lined the desk, laptop left on the seat of one of the chairs in the room. 

“What is this?” You asked him, fingers plucking a post-it from the desk,

Crime of Passion?

He had been watching a lot of true crime documentaries lately. It didn’t help but creep you out. This man, a murderer, suddenly extremely into serial killers and murder itself. 

“I’m going to write a book.” He explained. His face was in a grin, almost giddy. 

“A book.” You looked at him incredulously. Your eyes drifted over to Harlan’s novels sitting stacked on another chair, spines finally cracked and pages thumbed through, sticky tabs stuck throughout the pages. You pointed to them, “A book?”

“Yeah,” He gestured around to the post-its, “What do you think?” It’ll keep him busy that’s for sure. You sighed, sticking the post-it back on the desk and looked at him. He was waiting, expectantly, why did he care what you thought about this?

“Is it gonna be about Fran?” You asked awkwardly, he scoffed,

“No, I’m gonna write books like my Grandfather wrote,” He plucked a post-it from the desk, showing you,

Wife murders husband?

“I’m gonna write a mystery novel.” 

He was good. You couldn’t lie about that. And you wouldn’t. This was a strange thing. The routine changed. Gym, breakfast, writing, lunch, writing, dinner, and then he would go out. His mind was moving faster than his fingers could and you were left reading a new chapter or two every night. You’d once loved Harlan’s novels. Your Mother was obsessed with them. It was partially why you had even taken the job tutoring Meg in the first place, but you know what they say. Never meet your heroes. 

Harlan was kind in some ways, funny, but proud. His pride is what eventually killed him you’ve found out. The medicine Ransom had switched wasn’t his cause of death, his refusal for help was. 

Ransom was as good as he was, better even. 

“He’s got a lot of me in him,” Harlan said to you once, “He could have everything I’ve ever had if he would pull his head out of his ass.” 

This was promising. 

You were honestly afraid when Ransom first said he would be writing a novel. What if he wasn’t a good writer? Could you really lie and try to support him even though it was absolute garbage? You supposed you would have to. You were relieved to find out that it was unnecessary. 

He slipped a red pen into your hand when handing you this last chapter, the book almost finished. “I want to see how you react to everything,” He explained, the book was coming to the climax, you were a chapter away from the big reveal and the aftermath, his hands gently massaged your shoulders before he bent at the waist, wrapping his arms around you from behind as you sat on the sofa. “Do you like it?” His hot breath brushed against your ear, a tingle went down your spine. 

“Ransom,” Your hand came up to lay over his forearm, brushing the skin with your thumb, “It’s amazing.” You could almost feel the grin that stretched across his face, he turned, pressing his face into your hair where you could swear he laid a soft kiss before releasing you. 

“Of course it is,” Here we go, “I’m a fucking Thrombey.” His fucking smirk. That's what he left you with, returning to his office to pound out the last two chapters. 

It was a process. The editing, printing, shipping off to multiple publishers. He got replies after a month. 

Eager replies. 

Whatever Ransom wanted, Ransom got. The lucky bastard stayed lucky.

“Look Babe.” Ransom dropped a heavy box on the table in front of you, “Look at this shit.” He grabs a knife from the block on the counter, slipping it under the packing tape to open the box revealing glossy black covers. He first fucking novel. There. Printed. A picture of a fireplace, chair facing it, empty. A blood soaked carpet. He picked one from the box, opening it. And there in the forward, the dedication, Harlan’s name…

...and yours. 

“Don’t get all big headed about it kid.” He smirked. Your heart was racing in your chest. 

“Why would you…” Your fingers gently traced the letters of your name, there in print, as it would be on every copy sold. 

“Wouldn’t have been able to write it without you being chained to my house, only seems fair.” He shrugged. “We can call it even.” You scoffed,

“Dedicating your book to me hardly makes my doing your house arrest for you even Ransom.” He smirked again, flipping through the pages, seeing his words in bold print. 

“I think it’s plenty fair,” Okay, now you wanted to smack him, “You live here for free, you eat here for free, and you get paid pretty well to do so.” His devilish eyes met yours over the top of the book he was still thumbing through. “If anything you’re still ahead because you’re the kept woman of a bestselling author.” 

“A kept woman?” You dropped the book onto the table. “I’m not your fucking whore Ransom.” 

“Not yet.” Audibly you made noise of protest, internally your core thrummed with heat. 

“Never.” You packed up your tablet and the new book, attempting to walk around him to go sit out by the fire pit for a while. His large hand gently grabbed your upper arm, tugging you into his body, wrapping his arms around your shoulders, your arms trapped between you.

“Tell me you’re proud of me.” He whispered into your hair, his voice suddenly soft, heartbreaking. 

“I am proud of you Ransom.” You shifted your belongings to your left hand, tugging your right from against his chest to wrap around his torso. “I’m very proud of you.” 

Book published, royalties rolling in, Ransom was making his own money now. He was more cocky than ever. Proud. The, I-don’t-need-you-anymore-mom, attitude. But can you still pay my babysitter? The girls came more easily than ever before, not that they didn’t come easy before the bestseller. 

Every. Night. 

Sometimes two girls were leaving in the morning, gently ushered out the door with promises of a phone call and a, “I’ll let him know.” It made you feel dirty, betraying almost. Like you were supposed to be on these girl’s side instead of cleaning up after Ransom’s mess. 

You could gag. The milky condoms, two of them, tossed haphazardly aside on the hardwood floor of Ransom’s bedroom. Disgusting. You could hear him laughing at you now. 

“It could be you,” He says, “Just say the word.” If you weren’t so irritated with Ransom for this very thing your panties would be dripping with the thought. 

He’s sitting at the kitchen island forking soft scrambled eggs into his mouth, cheesy with peppers and onions, the way he likes them, the way you made them, when you come downstairs. “You could at least throw the condoms in the fucking trash Ransom.” He looked up from his eggs to you, peeling off the latex gloves you’d just used, smirking. 

“Where’s the fun in that?” Asshole. 

“You’re disgusting.” You begin on the dishes, taking a sip of your now lukewarm coffee. You hear the stool scoot back against the floor, “That wasn’t an invitation.” You said, hearing his approach. His arms wrapped around your middle as you began to scrub. His head rested on your shoulder. 

“You love me.” He slowly rocked your body side to side, “You love how disgusting I am.” You tried to shrug him off of you, but he held you tighter. Since last Christmas when you curled up in his lap and held him for two hours until he was sober enough to leave you he’d been slowly getting more and more affectionate with you. He was touch starved, hungry for it. The intimacy of holding and being held. 

You didn’t picture Linda as much of a hugger.

The house was decorated. It was the least he could do for you really. This was the first Christmas since your Mother died that you and your sister wouldn’t be completing your tradition, but you tried not to think about it. Ransom humored you just after Thanksgiving, bringing home a fake Christmas tree, ornaments and lights. You’d ordered a couple of extras online and three stockings were on the mantle, Christmas lights lined the windows giving the house a warm glow. 

“I’m sending everyone in my family a copy.” He told you, “a signed copy.” Of his book. Rubbing their noses in it. The book has firmly held the number one spot on the New York Times Bestseller List for weeks. Already over a million copies have been sold. Whether its due to the fame of the not-murder trial or Harlan’s legacy you couldn’t be sure, but even without those things the book was incredibly good. 

Ransom could have made it on his own, a long time ago. 

“You don’t think that’s a little crass?” He released you long enough for you to finish loading the dishwasher, watching you place the pod of soap and shut it like he didn’t realize that’s actually what you’re supposed to do. 

“Fuck them,” He scoffed, “They’ve always hated me.” 

“To be fair,” You turned to the soft sweater clad man leaning against the kitchen island, “You’re an asshole.” 

He smirked, “Yeah, but that’s why I’m so charming.” You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. 

It could almost be domestic. The way things were now. So different from before. Yeah Ransom was still bringing a new girl home almost every night and sure you could hear them fuck from your bed on the other side of the wall, but for the most part it was always just the two of you. 

His parents never ventured out here much anymore, since his book was published he had a deadline for the next book that needed to be completed so he wrote almost every day now, sometimes for hours. You made his every meal, on the odd occasion you’d order out. Sometimes when he needed a break he would come sit on the sofa with you as you watched whatever show you were currently obsessed with. One time you walked in on him watching Love Island by himself and you hadn’t let him live it down yet, maybe not ever. 

He grew soft, sweet almost. A kiss against your palm. Hugs from behind as you worked at the stove. A snuggle of feet under his thigh as you watched Miracle on 34th Street by a crackling fire. Wordlessly anticipating each others needs. It spoke to a high level of intimacy. Something you both chose to ignore. 

It was nice. 

He didn’t go out on Christmas Eve. Not only because his usual bar was closing earlier than normal because of the holiday, he assured you, but because he wanted to stay in. Snow was falling thick outside, a foot of it already blanketed on the ground. To tell the truth you didn’t want him to go out in this weather anyway. You knew he was willing to drive a little drunk and he didn’t exactly obey speed limits. It was safer here. 

You were still reeling from the argument you had with your sister earlier in the night. You called her to see what she was doing, but she was at a friends house and wanted nothing to do with you. Since the house arrest you haven’t exactly been on speaking terms. She wasn’t Ransom’s biggest fan and didn’t really understand why you needed to do this. You could kind of blame it on yourself for her having no idea how much money you needed to keep her in school, her cello and lessons weren’t cheap and nor are the electronics she seemed so attached to. This two year sentence you were playing out for Ransom would put you in the green, far in the green, so far in the green that you were willing to put up with all his petty bullshit and be okay with your sister hating you if it meant your futures were secure. 

After all this was over, you might just be able to go back to school. 

“Are you hungry?” You removed your feet from their spot beneath his thigh, grabbing both of your now empty mugs, padding over to the kitchen. Your stomach had just begun to growl. The stew you had simmering on the stove was ready to eat. 

“Yeah,” Ransom replied, not turning away from the television. Santa’s trial had just began. It was a strange thing, having him watch classic Christmas movies, soft in sweats and a comical christmas sweater you jokingly bought him. “I look good in anything.” He said. He wasn’t lying. 

You poured two bowls full, bringing over a plate with some crusty bread he was kind enough to go out and grab for you earlier in the day. “Thank you,” He said softly as he took the bowl from your hands, eyes still not moving from the screen. He quickly spooned some into his mouth, 

“It’s hot.” You said, his only reaction being trying to rapidly cool it in his mouth, his tongue probably burned. He gave you a glare, before resting the bowl on the coffee table. This could almost be a relationship. The two of you together. In this oddly domestic moment. He was the only man in your life right now, it wasn’t like you had many options for seeking others. 

That’s why you would get so hot and bothered with him. And that’s the only reason. 

He had never seen A Miracle on 34th Street before. You’d think with how old fashioned Harlan was he would have at least seen it once or twice, but then again, any time spent together as a family was always strained and argumentative. 

Even when he was a kid though? He was the first grandchild. His mother was the first child of Harlan. You were sure when he was a child he was spoiled rotten, more toys than he could play with, never wanting for anything. But that wasn’t exactly true. The touch starved trust-fund baby didn’t get the one thing kids need the most, more than presents, toys, electronics. Real genuine love. 

His Mother loved him to an extent. It’s why you were the one on house arrest instead of him, but she thought loving him meant giving him whatever he wants. When we all know that’s not what kids want. They want to be told no, given structure, rules. How many times have you gotten into arguments with your sister because you didn’t allow her to go roam the streets at night without supervision or give her money for some stupid thing she wouldn’t be even bothered with in two weeks?

But you could also see how no one really knows how to raise a child and you just try your best. Having Harlan for a Father couldn’t have been easy. 

Under the tree that you’d decorated and in the stockings you’d hung were presents. Ransom had everything he’d ever wanted, but you couldn’t help but want him to have something to open tomorrow morning. Granted it wouldn’t be much, but it’s the thought that counts. In the fridge you already have most of what will go into tomorrow’s dinner made. Hopefully your sister thinks about your extended invitation and Ransom can go pick her up at some point tomorrow. You missed her, a lot. Your heart ached with wishes that she was here right now. 

Ransom’s eyes had gotten shifty. The movie was coming to an end and his bowl was empty. “Did you want more?” You asked him, thinking that would be the cause of his shiftiness, maybe indecisive? 

“No.” He cleared his throat, “I’m not going to be home for dinner tomorrow.” You weren’t sure you heard that properly.

“You’re not going to be home….” You started, picking his bowl up from the coffee table and standing, “For dinner on Christmas?” 

He was scared to tell you, that’s cute. Your body was bristling with anger as you took the stew off the stove to cool before you could properly store it. He didn’t move from his spot on the couch. 

“My Mother wants me to go to this dinner with-” 

“So every other time your Mother wants you to do something it’s ‘fuck you’ and ‘eat shit’, but when we’ve already made plans for tomorrow and my sister-” You felt tears prickle in your eyes. “What the fuck Ransom?” His face was stoic from the couch. 

“Why does it matter?” He asked, “I stayed home tonight!”

“And that makes up for it?” You stood at the kitchen counter, staring across the room at him. “I already started on dinner, Ransom. You couldn’t have maybe said something while I was prepping all of this?” You gestured to the fridge. He shrugged. 

“I didn’t know that was all for tomorrow.” His face still betrayed no expression. 

“She can come here,” You offered, “We can have dinner here.” His eyes shifted away from yours to watch the rolling credits. 

“She doesn’t want to.” He stood from the couch, rounding towards the tree slowly, searching. 

“Why not?” He was being shady about this, the whole situation was strange. “I already have all of this food prepared and I can’t pick up Julia myself… Ransom?” 

“She doesn’t like being around you.” He stated honestly, he picked a box out among the presents under the tree, eyes meeting yours as he fumbled with it. 

“What?” You get it. She’s technically your employer. But she’s never had any issue dropping in for dinner or putting you to work on some task for herself. 

“Listen,” He came closer to where you still stood, your chest tightening. “Y/N, I hate my family-”

“Then why are you going to-”

“I have to do this.” His cheeks were flushed, you could tell he was uncomfortable. “My therapist… I don’t want to do this.” He slid the box across the counter top. “I don’t want to go, but I have to.” 

“Is this supposed to make me feel better about it?” You scoffed, picking up the gold wrapped box. His mouth opened and then quickly shut without speaking. You sighed heavily, a headache coming on. “I’ve got nothing, Ransom. All I wanted to do tomorrow was spend some time with my family and if you’re not going to be around…” 

“I know, I can maybe go pick your sister up in the morning?” He offered. Your eyes watery, staring at him. He doesn’t get it. Your heart was aching a bit. 

“You’re such an asshole.” You spat, leaving the present still wrapped in front of you, thumbing the thick wrapping paper. 

“I know.” He swallowed. 

“What does your therapist want you to do?” You never talked about what went on in his therapy sessions. He was too closed off after them, drank too heavily, lashed out too easily. You’d let him slowly work through his refractory period and let him cozy up to you once he was feeling better. 

Ransom felt awkward, you could feel it. He was uncomfortable. 

“Why does this matter so much to you?” He asked. He was turning. He got too emotional. “It doesn’t matter what I have to do or where I have to do it. I said I would go pick Julia up, I’m giving you what you want.” 

“Fine.” You were staring each other down. “I’ll let her know you’ll be there to get her around noon and then you can go have dinner with the people you hate.” He rolled his eyes, 

“I don’t know what you think this is, Y/N.” He scoffed, “You still work for me, we’re not playing house here.” 

“Then stop making me.” You spat back at him, both of you in a similar stance, hands gripping the edge of the stone counter top. 

“I’m not making you do anything.” There was a rage growing in his eyes. 

“You are, Ransom. I take care of you like you’re my own fucking child. I clean up all of your messes, I cook all of your fucking food, I do everything for you.” 

“I don’t ask you to.”

“You don’t have to! You literally just expect it of me.” You yelled. 

“Because it’s your job.” He laughed, throwing his hands into the air. “I have no loyalty to you Y/N. None.” Fine.

Fine.

You hated him. You fucking hated him. You were doing all of this for him. And you’ve never felt more dumb in your life. The house arrest bracelet on your ankle felt heavier than ever. It itches like mad. 

“Fuck you Ransom.” You rounded the counter, moving towards the stairs when he grabbed your arm. 

“Take the gift.” He slapped the box into your hand. 

“I don’t want the fucking gift, Hugh.” He looked taken aback for a moment.

“Don’t call me that.” His hand fell from your arm, stepping closer to you. 

“That’s what you want, right?” You asked, “You want me to do all of these things for you and take care of you and fucking hold you when you need comfort but when I’m fucking trying to make things easier for you, you’re all the sudden ‘I have no loyalty to you.” 

“Wait a fucking minute,” He growled, “I take care of you too. Who the fuck buys all the shit you want on a fucking whim? You’re in the mood for curry, I get you curry. You make a comment about how you really want to decorate for Christmas and who fucking gets you everything you need to do that? You say that you really want to get into fucking knitting and who gets you all the fucking shit you need to fucking knit?” 

“Buying me things doesn’t mean you care about me Ransom.” You shook the box in your hand for emphasis. “All I wanted to know is what your therapist wants you to do tomorrow, you can go have dinner with your Mother. It’s fine. I just wanted you to fucking open up to me.” 

“I am open with you!” He yells, “You know more about me than anyone else in my fucking life, it’s hard for me okay? I can never escape you, you’re always fucking there. I don’t get to fucking-” He placed his hands on his hips, turning from you. He let out a heavy, slow breath. Calming himself down. “I don’t want to go tomorrow, trust me Y/N, I really don’t, but I have to.” His eyes met yours, softer this time. 

You felt like some part of you was being irrational. This dinner might help his growth. Whatever milestone he was reaching with his therapist, this could be really good for him. But you also felt a little selfish, you wanted him here, with you. You felt more like his family than anyone else. Or at least, he felt more like your family and he should be here to spend Christmas with his family. You knew he felt at least somewhat the same, if the gifts addressed to Julia under the tree from him were anything to go by. You wanted him here, but he wasn’t yours. 

“I’m sorry.” You whispered, the tears that were once threatening to spill, now did. “It’s fine.” Your head was pounding. “It’s fine.” 

“I know it’s not,” He said softly. “But we can maybe do presents and lunch before I go,” He gestured towards the tree. “I should be back in time for the Grinch.” You were shaking a bit as he approached you, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you tightly against his body. “I’m sorry baby.” He was so warm, a little sweaty from arguing, but warm. “I’ll make it up to you.” A soft whisper into your hair. 

The little gold box was soon opened, a new rose gold cartier bracelet slipped onto your wrist and Ransom left you and your sister the next day wearing the sweater you had so carefully knit for him. 

2021

Your breath hitched in your throat, back arching, a loud moan breaking from your lungs. How was he so good at this? Ransom’s tongue was at work between your thighs, large hands cradling your hips, burying his face in your moist heat. You were so close to cumming. And he knew it. 

“Oh god,” you moaned, bucking your hips into his face as you rode your orgasm until your body was too sensitive to continue, Ransom moving his attentions to press his lips sloppily against your thighs before making his way up your body. 

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he lamented as he pressed his lips to your flushed cheeks and panting mouth, parting your thighs fully around his hips to tease your opening with the blunt head of his cock. “So fucking beautiful.” He moaned into your open mouth as he breeches you. 

He felt so fucking good. You’d never get over it, you were sure. Ransom was patient, biding his time. He wasn’t that guy who had to be as deep inside you as possible, chasing his orgasm by stabbing your cervix. Over time he mapped out the location of your g-spot, shifting his hips and cock to brush against the spot with every thrust, working you up and making your eyes roll back in your head. 

Those girls screamed with good reason. Just as you did now. Gushing wet around him as you came for the second time, looking up wantonly into his flushed face, lips swollen from first kissing and then pulling you apart with his tongue. Your fingers curled in his chest hair as he picked up pace, chasing his own release now, your hips lifting off the bed to aid him.

“So fucking good baby,” His eyes screwed shut as he moans, arms trembling, “You fuck me so good baby.” He sat back on his haunches, pulling your hips roughly to his, your sensitive clit grinding against his pubic bone almost bringing you over again as he cums. Hips stuttering into yours as you feel him empty himself into you. 

His head tilted towards the ceiling, eyes dropping to find you, hands still gripping your hips and as much of your ass as he can manage. “I love you.” 

It never gets old. 

He said those words to you ever chance he got. It was as if he was trying to make up for a lifetime without it. Love. 

Early morning sleepy soft kisses, I love you.

Silent breakfast with your feet in his lap, I love you.

Scratching his back as you peered over his shoulder while he was writing, I love you. 

Feet stuffed under his thigh watching Outlander and drinking hot tea, I love you.

Buried deep inside you, panting mouths a breath apart, bodies flushed and sweaty, sheets damp with cum, I love you.

“I think you’re the only person I’ve ever loved.” 

It was intense. His love for you.

He tried hard. He didn’t know how it was supposed to work. A real relationship, a real honest to god loving relationship. But he was trying. 

The first few months of the relationship you gained a lot of new jewelry, a new iPad, clothes, shoes. “You don’t have to buy me things to prove that you love me, Ransom.” 

Then came flowers and lots of them. Sometimes just one, sometimes a bouquet. Regardless there were multiple vases that stayed filled throughout the house, always with fresh flowers never given time to fully wilt. 

After that was the touching. Always some sort of physical contact. Whether you were cuddling on the couch or a blink away from sleep with his ankle wrapped around yours, if you were in a room together there was always some sort of contact. 

Your house arrest bracelet was removed, and a gold anklet replaced it. You were free to leave, live on your own. Move out and back into that shitty apartment with your sister, but this was early days in the newfound relationship with Ransom. 

He’d bought you a house. 

He’s paying for your sisters school.

He’s paying you to still work for him.

It was a Victorian. The house. Not at all like his contemporary cube he knew you despised. A rich dark brown with a large porch. Much too big for just you and your sister, so 6 months after the two of you moved in, Ransom sold his house and moved in too. 

Julia was warming up to him. At first she wasn’t a fan. It took a long time, many dinners with Ransom, ‘family outings’, you hoped she could see the way he treated you now. The way he’s kind of always treated you. Her love was easily bought with the new house, her latest generation iPhone and the fact that she now had a monthly allowance. It didn’t stop you from making her get an after school job at the school library though. 

Now with a house of your own, you were doing something you’d always dreamed of. Watching Ransom try to hang Christmas lights. 

“I’ll just pay someone to do it,” He offered, looking skeptically at the boxes you had placed on the dining room table, “I’m not going up there to do it.” 

But there he was, up there doing it while you looked up at him from the bottom of the ladder. “This is the fucking worst.” He exclaimed, taking the light clips and attaching them to the roof. “Why are we doing this?” 

“Because you love me and you want to make me happy.” You laughed. He rolled his eyes, squinting against the sun. 

“I’m not so sure,” He attached a few more clips within reach before steadily climbing down the ladder. “I think you’re trying to kill me.” 

“I’m the beneficiary on your life insurance right?” You jokingly asked as his feet hit the ground. He laughed at your bad joke, 

“I think that’s in pretty poor taste, but…” He pressed a kiss to your forehead, “Yes.” 

“Julia should be home soon and then we can decorate the tree,” You wrapped your arms around his middle, capturing his lips with your own, “And make some cookies,” You kissed him again, 

“And have a drink.” He smirked against your lips. 

“You have a therapy appointment today,” You walked over to the steps, “You’re not having anything to drink.” He rolled his eyes at you once more, shooing you into the house as he re-positioned the ladder to go back up and finish stringing the lights. 

You had to be proud of him. Court mandated therapy ended when your house arrest did, but he still went every week. At first it was due to a little pushing by you, but eventually he made the appointments on his own. He was getting better. Still a dick, but that was his nature. He wasn’t quick to anger anymore, his emotions took a more level head. And he was now publishing books twice a year. He’s got five books out now, and almost 100 million copies sold. Which is incredible. 

You started back to school, Ransom wanting to start his own publishing company, “I’m paying for you to go to business school as an investment in our future.” He claimed. Once you were done with school your job would be to then help him open his own publishing company where you’d overlook everything. A daunting task, but it was hard not to believe in yourself when Ransom made himself your own personal cheerleader. “You’re brilliant,” He would say, “You’re so smart, you’ve just been dealt a bad hand until now.” 

And now he was stacking that hand to the best of his ability. 

Finals had been last week and you still marveled at the fact that as you poured over your last assignments and studying, Ransom would make you coffee and massage your shoulders whereas you would usually do the same for him as he was finishing a book. 

You’d gone to a couple therapy sessions with him, the first time he’d invited you was strange and you didn’t know what would even be discussed, but as you sat in the session and he was finally completely bare to you, you couldn’t help but feel like it was his idea and not his therapist’s. 

That session changed the dynamic between the two of you for sure. 

After the dam broke, the two of you having sex for the first time and Ransom’s admission of love it wasn’t easy. He was still an asshole and as someone who had never been in a relationship before, this first real relationship, he didn’t really know how to behave. 

You had one session a month together and it was probably one of the best ideas Ransom ever had. 

He was a little sullen when he came home later that night, coming to curl himself around you as you placed the cookies you and Julia had baked earlier into the decorative metal tins you had just bought. 

Sometimes it was like this, sadness. His lips gently pressing themselves against your cheek, his body tightly pressed against yours trying to pull as much comfort as he possibly could. “I don’t want to talk about it,” He whispered softly, “Not yet.” 

“Okay.” You knew what he needed and what he needed was a little bit of time. You offered him a cookie, chocolate and peanut butter, still warm. He took it gently from your fingers, pulling away to go to his study, but not before pulling you into a soft lingering kiss. An apology for what you knew would be a distant night. A ‘I don’t know when I’ll be coming to bed’ night. You were sure you’d have three new chapters to go over in the morning.

You loved the snow. Almost a foot of it had fallen overnight, frosting the windows and giving your home a beautiful Christmas glow. It made your home feel cozy and well slept as you stretched your limbs out, hand coming to run across Ransom’s back. So he did come to bed after all. You rolled over to face him, laying on his belly, arms folded under his pillow facing you. 

God he is beautiful. 

You hated it about him. So handsome. You brushed his fallen hair out of his face, pressing a kiss to his scrunched brow. He was letting his beard grow out for the winter. It made him even more attractive, the bastard. 

Julia was just getting up for school, standing in the kitchen in her uniform, eating toast and facetiming a friend. She was in a carpool, this house you lived in, while comfortably distanced from others, was in a neighborhood of other kids that went to her same school. Something you’re sure Ransom took into account when buying this house in the first place. You drove the kids to school on Friday when you didn’t have any classes. Today was a different parent’s turn. 

“Can I take some of these to school?” She asked, picking up a tin of cookies. 

“Yeah, but take the red one.” You popped a k-cup into the keurig. “Those haven’t touched any nuts.” 

“Mila’s Mom said we can go to the mall after school to go get presents for the pollyanna our class is having, is that okay?” She was such a good kid. Getting older now, she was almost ready to learn how to drive, something you’d been dreading, but for whatever reason Ransom was really looking forward to. 

“You have money still?” You asked, preparing a second cup of coffee for the sleeping bear upstairs. 

“I mean,” She smirked, “Unless you want to give me more…?” You rolled your eyes, turning towards your younger sibling. 

“What time will you be home?” The car had just pulled up outside, horn letting out a quick ‘honk’ to let her know they were here. 

Julia shrugged, hugging you, “We might get dinner, but probably no later than 8. I’ll text you.” She shrugged her coat on, opening the front door as you called behind her, 

“Text me when you get to the mall and when you’re on your way home!” 

“Okay!” She yelled back, trudging through the snow to the car.

“Keep your location on!” You could almost feel her roll her eyes at you, 

“Okay!” Annoyed this time.

“I love you!” You shouted as she got in the car, slamming the door behind her. Your phone chimed with reply, 

love you too

With that you went to rouse the sleeping man upstairs. 

He groaned unhappily when you woke him up, but it was quickly soothed by the coffee you’d supplied him with. 

Christmas was quickly approaching. The first Christmas you’d be spending together as a real, honest to god, family. In your own home, ready to begin your own traditions. The house was beautifully decorated and almost always smelled like cookies and a Christmas movie or music was always playing in the background. 

There was a truly sweet moment you’d wanted to commit to memory for the rest of your life. Julia rolling out cookie dough, Christmas music blaring obnoxiously loud and Ransom coming out from his study yelling, 

“I can’t write anything in a house this loud!” Walking over to the sound system and turning it down to a soft ambling. Your sister and you looking at him and laughing, the red faced lumberjack quickly losing steam as he realized he was wearing the hideous Christmas sweater you’d jokingly bought him last year. “It’s the warmest sweater I own.” He claimed. Sure. Sure it is. 

He turned the music back up a little louder, coming to a happy medium. His embarrassment waning as he looked at the two of you in the kitchen. A family that didn’t argue with every other word. People who genuinely loved each other. Something he never knew he wanted or needed. He came over to you, gently clasping your hands before tugging you into his body to ridiculously dance around to Jingle Bell Rock. The three of you peeling with laughter. Was this even real life anymore? With a soft parting kiss and a peak over your sisters shoulder to steal some cookie dough he was reluctantly walking back to his study, coming to join you twenty minutes later after finishing the chapter he’d been working on all day. 

The three of you spent the rest of the night in the living room, watching the cheesy A Christmas Prince series on Netflix and eating what was sure your body weight in popcorn. Cozy with your little family. 

“Do you think she’d like a puppy?” Ransom whispered into your neck one night. 

“Do not.” You were close to sleep, just about to drift off, when his question stirred you awake. 

“I always wanted a puppy when I was a kid.” He pressed a kiss against your neck, fingers gently tugging your nipple. 

“I’ll be the one taking care of it,” You whimpered as his other hand sunk between your thighs, “Do not get her a puppy.” His lips met your shoulder and you turned in his arms, thighs parting as he lightly stroked your clit. 

“You’ll get there.” He pressed his lips against yours, teasing your entrance with his fingers, his now hard cock nudging against your thigh. “You’ll warm up to the idea.” 

“No…” You whined, his fingers beginning to stroke your g-spot, his body coming to lay over yours, his eyes half lidded and lips wet and red came to meet yours as he removed his fingers and replaced them with his cock. “Fuck.” His fingers laced themselves through yours, pressing your hands against the sheets as he began to rock his hips slowly into yours. 

“You’re so sweet on me baby,” He mouthed against your lips, “So sweet on us.” He moaned. Your hips ground against his with every thrust. This slow love making that was making you gush around him, pussy making obscene sounds with every tilt of his hips, gently brushing the parts of you that make your legs shake. He chest close to yours, the begging in his eyes, 

“You’ll be such a good mother,” His hips met yours a little harder on that one causing you to gasp, pussy clenching around him. “Gonna give me what I want for Christmas?” He asked. He did this sometimes, knowing you were still on birth control and the actual relationship was still relatively new, the two of you had been together for almost a year now, you knew that he’d been toying with the idea of having a baby. You’d talked about it in therapy recently. 

“I love you,” He moaned, his hips build up a little speed as your legs came to wrap high around his waist. “I can’t wait,” He groaned, “So good to me.” His lips capturing yours passionately as his hips stalled, grinding himself against your g-spot, pubic bone rubbing your clit as you found your orgasm, pussy gushing wet dripping down his thighs onto the bed as you moaned into his mouth. 

“You’ll be such a good mother baby, such a good fucking mother.” His hips picked back up in pace, “I’d do anything for you baby. Anything.” He was chasing his release now, thrusting against your sensitive clit making you reel again before releasing your hands and grabbing your thighs, pushing them back high against the bed, just making you take it. You both had to try to be quiet here, your sister on the floor above you, your hand covered your mouth as you tried to muffle the loud obnoxious squealing that came uncontrollably as his hips slapped against your ass in this position. Sweat forming on his brow and head thrown back as he groans through his teeth, feeling him empty his seed deep against your cervix. 

In all the years you’d known him Ransom was never a kid person. He didn’t like small children, but he also didn’t come into contact with them often which is why it was so strange two months ago when he originally brought up the idea. “I think we would make pretty okay parents,” He said, “Better than mine definitely.” It made your heart flutter, thinking of a life with him. Knowing that he was also thinking about a life with you, but it’s just not the right time. 

What wasn’t surprising about any of this was on Christmas morning, after breakfast and the exchanging of handmade sweaters, new books to read, a couple new apple watches, and your sister and you receiving matching earrings, a gorgeous little blue nose pit bull puppy, one that reminded you of your childhood dog was brought out with a little pink bow around its neck. Ransom ignored your glare as he handed the sweet little thing to your sister, who was crying in happiness. 

He would remind you later on that he found you cooing to the sweet little thing only a few minutes after that, the puppy curled up in your arms, licking your fingers in earnest. 

“Don’t you have something else?” Julia asked him. 

“Julia this is plenty,” You scolded, “He’s gotten you enough.” She rolled her eyes. 

“It’s not for me.” She laughed. The little puppy sleeping in her arms and you scratched it behind it’s ears, turning to Ransom who shifted nervously to one knee, a ring box open in his hand. 

“Stop it.” Came out from a very watery smile. He licked his lips, tugging his bottom one between his teeth before starting, 

“You’re the only woman I’ve ever loved.” 

.

.

.

TAGLIST //

@littlechillies @hellizhelusive2 @notbexmader @marvelouspottering @whitequeenasitbgan @Thegraylaway @readermia​ @i-believe-in-unicorns-and-you @princess-evans-addict @perplexed3001 @deidrashouseofpain @hailmary-yramliah​ @sleepycvpid​ @joannaliceevans-fanficblog​ @starlywars​ @gifsbysimplysonia​ @rocknbasil​ @imnotelasticheart​ @wannabegonnie @d1sconnect3d​ @heyguyz13 @unimomajo @this-is-serenaa​  @bookish-shristi​ @auroussss​

[dat2ndaccount97]

What’s Left on my Doll Wishlist (as of 12-12-19)

 As I was waiting for the game awards I started thinking about dolls I wanted, I thought about making this post, now 4 hours later after that Depressingly Awful Game Awards Here’s what’s left on My doll Wish list, a list of specific Dolls I want, some of which are holy grail dolls. Over this 10 years of being into dolls and almost 7 years of collecting, I Built up this ever growing list and started getting some of the ones I really wanted Like My Holy Grail Silver Label Supergirl Barbie, My TNT Barbies, My Disney Store Ariel doll, and others. But There’s still plenty on the list, and here’s what’s lefy (In Mostly no particular order):

- Those Mid 00′s Marvel Barbies. Always Kinda wanted these for the longest time as a Guy who���s really into comics and really into dolls. Also Funny Story I almost Went as Reed Richards for halloween in like 7th grade because I thought that would’ve been an easy way to get that invisible woman doll but passed because I figured it probably wouldn’t work. 

- The Toy Biz Spider-man Collectors Series Mary Jane Doll: Another Marvel Doll, and another red head. Basically in the mid 90s Toy Biz made a bunch of “12 Inch collector Figures” of Various Marvel characters from some of their marvel lines, They made Wolverine, Storm (who I do want for her clothes), and Rogue From the X-Men, Ghost Rider Spider-Man, Spectacular Spider-man/Scarlet Spider, and Mary Jane From Spider-Man, with Reg. Spider-Man and MJ being based off the Animated Series. The Female characters were just Off Brand barbies, but have a weird charm to them, plus i’m diggin’ MJ’s Not barbie face.

- Bath Time Fun Ariel: One of My Holy Grail Dolls. She’s V E R Y Impossible to find Rare. I absolutely love Her Insanely Long Red Hair.

- This Curvy Barbie with Dark Purple Hair, Really like this face combined with her cool Dark Purple Hair

- Pepsi Spirit Barbie: Love her crimped hair and how much of an unapologetic Pepsi Shill she is.

- Pizza Party Skipper: Love this Face, Love Pizza, and I Like Pizza hut for the most part, as far as the big chains go they’re pretty good, and I usually dig the weirder pizzas they come out with.

- The Superman Returns Superman and Lois Lane Barbies: Have a strong nostalgia Spot for this movie (not that bad honestly, and Routh Killed it recently on crisis) and I really like hoe these dolls Look.

- The other 3 2008 DC Comics I don’t Have (Especially Batgirl). While the 2008 Silver Label Supergirl was always the #1 Holy grail doll for Years I also really wanted batgirl and later on the other 2, as both a comics fan and as a Doll guy. I love how these look! (save for Batgirl’s Cowl and the painted glove hands)

- Holiday Angel Barbie: Not quite a holy grail doll but she is a little rare. Saw her a my local thrift store on day some years ago, Immediately loved her, not knowing who she was, and was about maybe $10, but I didn’t get her (Don’t remember if it was lack of funds in that moment or deciding weather or not to spend $10 on a thrift doll). Later that week I think I came back she was gone and I super regret not getting her and/or not coming back sooner.

- Feelin' Groovy Barbie: Love the outfit, Love the Steffie Face Mold with the Jet black hair with the bangs. Big Big Love her and super want her!

- 25th Anniversary Totally Hair Barbie:  Really like how we finally got a repro 90s barbie, really liked this repro turned out, really like the Long Crimped hair of TH barbie, and would probably look greta on a MTM Body

Those X-men Barbies from this year: Same reasons as the previous Comic Barbies I mentioned, They Look great but the painted glove hands and not being articulated as a MTM doll kinda kills it a little for me. Hopefully they go down in price or on sale Some point.

- This KOTOBUKIYA ACTIVE STYLING Doll/Figure of Athena from The King of Fighters: I don’t talk about it here but I’m super into Fighting Games, and am always happy to find out some of those characters I like have dolls of them even if they’re kinda rare japan only dolls.. King of Fighters is a great game series with a great Cast of characters, and one of those characters I main is Athena. She doesn’t have rooted hair but I still really like How she Looks and how articulated she is/looks

The KOTOBUKIYA ACTIVE STYLING  Doll/Figure of Yuri From King of Fighters: Same reasons as athena, though I really don’t main her outside of KOF 14 and maybe Capcom vs SNK 2.

- the Takara Real Bout Fatal Fury Mai Shiranui doll: One more SNK Doll. Love Mai and love how this doll looks. It looks pretty accurate to her design and has a certain 90s charm to it.

- The Blonde and Brunette Earring Magic Barbies and (Another) Earring Magic Midge. Adore 90s barbies so much, love how these dolls look overall, the always classic superstar facesculpt, the crimped hair, and I really dig these outfits. I did get EM midge recently But I do wanna get a new one New in box, and I wanna get the other 2 new in box (I take my dolls out of the box But I still want them new lol)

- a Dollikin/Action Girl Doll: Really like her face, her cute hair, and her surprising amount of articulation for a doll her age, she’s from the early 70s I think.

Lastly here’s the The Rest of My Holy Grail Dolls The One’s I R E A L L Y want:

- Jewel Hair Midge: I Love Red heads, Love 90s barbies, and I  Really love 90s midge. I know the hair on the JHM dolls becomes a problem almost immediately out of the box but I Just love the 90s midge face sculpt with her insanely long red hair and the blue outfit she has.

- The Super Excellent Series Vampire Savior Morrigan Doll from Marmit: Morrigan’s a character who i’ve always mained and has been on the waifu list forever, and always really really wanted a doll of her. I even tried giving my dolls bangs and coloring their hair green with marker back when I was a dumb teenager. It never turned out well. This is the closest I’ma Get to the Morrigan Fashion doll I always wanted. There is another japan only morrigan doll, but she Looks Bad.

- 2009 Barbie Fashionistas Glam. The other Original Holy Grail Doll I wanted since Day 1 next to supergirl. Love her outfit, her hair, and always get nostalgic for that late 00′s/early 2010′s Barbie Face.

Last but not least

- Red Head/Titan Hair Twist N Turn Barbie: Next to 80s/90s barbies and late 00′s/early 10′s barbies TNT Dolls are my ABSOLUTE Favorites. I have 2 Vintage TNT Dolls and a Repro Hair Fair Doll. I also REALLY like Red Heads and Love the Red Head/ Titan Hair TNT barbie. The red Hair Just Looks so Good with this face!!

And I think That’s all of them For now.

[linuxgamenews]

Out of the Park Baseball 23 reveal and game discount

Out of the Park Baseball 23 OOTP 23) game opens up pre-orders for Linux, Mac, and Windows PC. All due to the efforts of developer Com2uS. Getting ready to make its way onto Steam soon. But you can pre-order now with a discount. Com2uS, is a global mobile, and online game development and publishing company. Who just announced Out of the Park Baseball 23 (OOTP 23). Which is the award-winning sports strategy series, launching on April 22, 2022. In addition, Com2uS, Major League Baseball, and MLB Players, Inc. have renewed their licensing agreement. All due to continue to bring the unbeatable level of authenticity of OOTP and other MLB mobile games and experiences. Doing so for the next five years. Out of the Park Baseball 23 is the next evolution of the beloved strategy series. Which also features new 3D visuals and all-new layers of customization options. Along with in-game tutorials that will appeal to rookies and veterans alike. All coming natively to Linux, Mac, and Windows PC. “Each year, it’s our goal to evolve and build on the legacy of OOTP’s unrivaled authentic baseball management experience. With Out of the Park Baseball 23 we’ve pushed these upgrades further than ever before,” said Richard Grisham, Director of Business Development at Com2uS. “Out of the Park Baseball 23 is a love letter to all baseball fans. While including an array of new tutorial features. Also making it the most welcoming entry point into the series yet. Adding all-new layers of customization and depth to the experience that we know our passionate community loves most about the game.”

Out of the Park Baseball 23 - Teaser Trailer (Linux, Mac, Windows PC)

“Out of the Park Baseball provides baseball fans worldwide the unique opportunity to manage their favorite players,” said Evan Kaplan, Managing Director of MLB Players, Inc. “Now Out of the Park Baseball 23 levels up this incredibly authentic gameplay. Doing so by allowing fans to take charge of their own baseball destiny. We’re looking forward to working with Com2uS. All so we can continue to bring fun and unique baseball games and experiences to fans for years to come.” In the coming weeks, baseball fans can tune into Out of the Park Developments’ Twitch channel. So you can get a first look at various aspects of Out of the Park Baseball 23 before launch.

Trailer Reveal - Catch a sneak peek of the exciting new features heading to Out of the Park Baseball 23 with the game’s first trailer reveal on Thursday, April 7 at 9 PM ET.

Gameplay Overview - Tune-in to watch the Out of the Park Developments team chat. With MLB Network’s Scott Braun and Markus Heisohn about the new gameplay features. All due to be apart of Out of the Park Baseball 23 to make it the most authentic, accessible. and entertaining version of the game yet. This is coming on Thursday, April 14 at 9 PM ET.

Perfect Team 23 Deep Dive - Check out the new features and gameplay enhancements heading to OOTP’s beloved “Perfect Team” feature. With an overview and gameplay reveal. Which is coming from Out of the Park Developments on Monday, April 18 at 9 PM ET.

This Week In Perfect Team Season Debut - All the brand new cards, missions, and other content surprises. Due to kick off a brand new season of Perfect Team on Thursday, April 21 at 9 PM ET.

Pre-order now:

Out of the Park Baseball 23 is now available to pre-order directly via the OOTP Developments website. Priced at $39.99 USD / £34.99 / 39,99€. Which will also be able to be Wishlisted soon on Steam for Linux, Mac, and Windows PC. Players who pre-order or wishlist the game will receive a 10% discount. This way you can be among the first to draft a Perfect Team of current and legendary MLB, MiLB, and KBO players. All due to create a memorable stadium experience for fans.

[ghostlykidmaker]

In fighting cancer, look to what other animals do

New Post has been published on https://newsprofixpro.com/products/2019/06/29/in-fighting-cancer-look-to-what-other-animals-do/

In fighting cancer, look to what other animals do

IN 1977 RICHARD PETO, an epidemiologist at Oxford University, observed a contradiction. Cancer begins as a mutation in a single cell. Organisms with more cells should therefore have a higher risk of developing it. Elephants, which have 100 times as many cells… Read More

 Buy Now Technical Details Add To Wishlist Tell A Friend All Reviews All Offers Add To Wedding Registry Add To Baby Registry

   Apple ComputerClick Buy Now for Updated Price. Estimated Price: $1,799.99 Free Shipping

Macbook Pro has a new eighth-generation quad-core Intel processor with Turbo Boost up to 4.1GHz. A brilliant and colorful Retina display with True Tone technology for a more true-to-life viewing experience. The latest Apple-designed keyboard. And the versatile touch Bar for more ways to be productive. It’s Apple most powerful 13-inch notebook. Pushed even further.8Th-generation quad-core Intel Core i5 Processor Brilliant Retina Display with True Tone technology Touch Bar and Touch ID Intel Iris Plus Graphics 655 Ultrafast SSD Four Thunderbolt 3 (USB-C) ports Up to 10 hours of battery life 802.11AC Wi-Fi Force touch trackpad Macos Mojave, inspired by pros but designed for everyone, with dark mode, stacks, easier screenshots, useful built-in apps, and more

Buy Now

[redmoonherbs]

In our herbal library, we have an embarrassingly (not really, because I believe in a world where ALL of your books can spark joy and there are never really too many) fabulous number of books. Maybe a couple thousand? Maybe a few hundred. But it feels like an infinite amount of plant wisdom passed loosely betwixt and between Galileo and Culpepper and Hildegard and Hoffman and Wood and Gladstar and Buhner and back again (not forgetting the myriad of other female herbal authors whose voices have been far more shushed). ⁣ ~⁣ Right now, I'm reading Gathering Moss by Robin Wall Kimmerer (of Braiding Sweetgrass fame), The Overstory (an epic tree-based eco-melodrama) by Richard Powers, The Cabaret of Plants by Richard Mabey and I'm sort of always reading Naturally Healthy Babies and Children by Aviva Romm and The Wise Woman's Herbal (the green book) by Susun Weed. On my wishlist is The Untold History of Healing: Plant Lore and Medicinal Magic from the Stone Age to Present by Wolf Storl and Thinking Like a Plant. ⁣ ~⁣ What are YOU reading from your herbal library?⁣ ~⁣ February into March is perfect late winter reading time. We're discontinuing our for-sale herbal bookshelves in the shop (due pretty much entirely to the price-slashing of the conglomerate e-bookstore and everything-else-store that we all know of and don't need to name), so you can find the rest of our stock for 40% off + some⁣ ~⁣ Photo taken at the splendid @ladyluckflowerfarm cabin by the lovely @emilynicholsphoto https://ift.tt/2XmLsNP

[smartwebhostingblog]

Amazon’s Holiday Toy Catalog Is Advertising Parents Actually Want

New Post has been published on http://brummy80.com/amazons-holiday-toy-catalog-is-advertising-parents-actually-want/

Amazon’s Holiday Toy Catalog Is Advertising Parents Actually Want

Never underestimate the market-moving potential of a nagging child. “Mom, Dad, I want THIS for Christmas!” is a phrase that each year leads to billions of dollars of toy sales. And it’s a phrase parents can appreciate, because knowing what your kid actually wants to find under the tree helps minimize Christmas morning tears. Toy manufacturers and retailers spend millions of dollars each year to make sure their products are the ones on everyone’s wishlist, with TV and online ads, special retail displays, and old-fashioned toy catalogs.

The stakes are particularly high this holiday season, since one-time retail juggernaut Toys R Us closed all its US locations earlier this year. Even while its sales were declining, Toys R Us still accounted for around 12 percent of the estimated $27 billion total toy sales in 2017, according to Juli Lennett of NPD Group, the leading toy industry analysts in the US.

With Toys R Us gone, those sales are up for grabs, and Amazon wants them. The digital-first company was already beating Toys R Us in market share. And while it alone was not responsible for the demise of Toys R Us—poor business decisions and its sizable debt were also to blame—Amazon did put intense pressure on the toy store chain with extremely low prices, especially during the past few holidays seasons, using its familiar tactic of sacrificing profit for market share. Toys R Us couldn’t compete. Now Amazon hopes to feed from the carcass.

And so the ecommerce giant went retro this holiday season, mailing out its first-ever print toy catalog, like the one Toys R Us used to be known for. The “Holiday of Play” lookbook from Amazon is 68 pages long and features toys like the über-popular LOL! Surprise dolls, LEGO’s Star Wars Solo, and the Osmos Genius Kit for iPad. An Amazon representative told WIRED the catalog was sent it to millions of customers in November, but wouldn’t give exact numbers. It’s also available at Whole Foods and some physical Amazon store locations, or online in PDF and Kindle form.

The catalog may be made of paper, but it’s designed as a gateway to a digital transaction. What it lacks in pricing information it makes up in QR codes and stickers that kids can use to make note of presents they want their parents to buy. It also works with the Amazon app: Take a photo of the catalog item you (or your kids) want, and the app will pull up the listing and let you buy it from your phone.

“The great thing about a catalog is that it sits on the coffee table, where kids can find it,” says Steve Pasierb, CEO of The Toy Association, a trade group representing American toy manufacturers. “The catalog is a market share play. Amazon has a huge chance to win a lot of those holiday sales.”

Amazon’s top competitors for Toys R Us’ sales are Target and Walmart, according to experts—traditional retailers that have mailed out holiday catalogs for years. And in the wake of Toys R Us closing, both companies decided to devote more shelf space in their retail locations to toys, says Pasierb. With only a handful of physical stores in a few major cities, Amazon’s toy push comes in the form of a dedicated landing page for kids on its website, and its catalog.

“They’re emulating a proven method of doing business, which is the catalog, but using their muscle to engage at a particular time when there are just fewer retailers now that sell toys,” says Richard Gottlieb, CEO of research firm Global Toy Experts. Gottlieb was impressed with Amazon’s catalog, though he far preferred eBay’s catalog, full of weird and wild and expensive one-of-a-kind toys, which launched this season as well.

Amazon and eBay are joining the many other ecommerce companies still finding that print catalogs have value in the digital era. Catalogs are harder to ignore than the clutter of online ads, one footwear startup founder told Digiday earlier this year, explaining that his company gets a slightly higher return on direct mail versus digital-only marketing. Companies can also use data to target catalogs to customers they know are likely to spend more money. And they are a traditional way for families to compile gift wishlists.

“I’m old enough to remember the Sears catalog,” says Gottlieb. “I remember laying on the floor just going through it. I didn’t get much anything out of it. But you know, marking things, studying it in detail. It was wonderful and a wonderful way to communicate with your parents what you want.”

People really want and love catalogs. Take a glance at the reviews for the Kindle version on Amazon’s website. Plenty of customers posted bad reviews, not because they didn’t like the catalog but because they were annoyed that they didn’t get one.

“Why can’t we get a book and why didn’t we get one? We have been prime members for years, have 4 kids, buy lots of toys, and no book. And we can’t order one,” reads the top-rated review right now. “Would love to have the toy catalog delivered through the mail. The children love looking at it and circling what they like. I dont use Kindle. I’ve been a prime member for many years and did not get one,” reads another. A review from November 15 is even more direct: “Disappointed that I didn’t and can not now get a hard copy in the mail even though I have two small children and spend a ton on toys through Amazon Prime. I AM YOUR TARGET MARKET. Speaking of Target – I’ll be doing my toy shopping there because I am THAT petty.”

The disappointment those Amazon reviewers felt speaks to the reason catalogs have worked so well. They’re convenient, above all. Enjoyable, even. And this time of year, when millions of Americans are going to buy toys, it’s easier for children to thumb through a physical catalog that feels like a big book of wonders than a notoriously hard-to-navigate website.

Kids, especially, don’t have a great way to discover toys on the actual Amazon website. Even its dedicated toy section divided by age group is confusing to navigate. And while the site does have a wishlist feature, parents might not trust their kid to trawl through Amazon’s website on their account, since they could accidentally push one button and buy something. A print catalog is a way for Amazon to directly get its offering in front of children, while also giving parents a little bit more control over the process.

The toy catalog is a familiar marketing throwback in an otherwise rapidly evolving industry. Pasierb notes that with the growth in streaming entertainment for kids, the kinds of ads children see have changed. “Unboxing videos, the online kind of stuff is for a lot of our toy companies as important or now more important than traditional television advertising. A lot of our companies that no longer do traditional TV advertising do almost all exclusively digital,” says Pasierb. The highest-paid YouTube celebrity this year, according to Forbes, was a 7-year-old boy making unboxing videos of toys, earning an estimated $22 million in 12 months.

“[These kinds of ads] are entertainment in their own right,” says Lennett. “A lot of these kids, I don’t think they know the difference between watching a show—a real show—versus watching another kid playing with a toy on YouTube.”

“In my household, the word ‘TV’ is gone. Now it’s just ‘shows.’ Children have already fully internalized the idea of on demand, and that disrupts the ad model completely,” says David Carroll, professor of media design at the New School.

But Carroll doesn’t let his two kids watch YouTube, where they might see those ads. I don’t let my three-year-old son watch it, either. We are the exception; a recent Pew survey found that 81 percent of parents do allow their young kids to watch YouTube. Our reasons are less to do with fear of seeing ads than fear that we can’t control the algorithm and our children might get exposed to inappropriate, creepy, or ideological videos. Instead, our kids mostly watch on-demand shows on Amazon Prime, Netflix, iTunes, or Google Play—and those are largely free of ads.

“The only way [Amazon’s toy offerings] are getting in front of my children is through a catalog,” says Carroll. Only Carroll never got an Amazon catalog, despite his prolific Prime usage. Neither did I. Neither did Lennett, who says, “I’m mad I didn’t get one.” Though her kids are teenagers, she buys lots of stuff on Amazon and thought they’d receive one in the mail, as some of her friends did. An Amazon representative declined to comment on how the company decided who to send the catalog to, though the person offered to send me one. (I declined.)

For Amazon, a catalog also fits well with its bigger push into the physical world, with everything from actual store locations to Dash buttons you physically push to order goods. “[Amazon owner Jeff] Bezos has total world domination as the goal. So from that perspective it makes sense that they would not take a digital-only approach. They would take a whatever works approach,” says Carroll.

For world domination, Amazon has to be everything. And everywhere. Even in the living room, where your kid can find it and come up to you whining, “Mom! I want this!” That is, if Amazon sent you one.

More Great WIRED Stories

[hostingnewsfeed]

Amazon’s Holiday Toy Catalog Is Advertising Parents Actually Want

New Post has been published on http://brummy80.com/amazons-holiday-toy-catalog-is-advertising-parents-actually-want/

Amazon’s Holiday Toy Catalog Is Advertising Parents Actually Want

Never underestimate the market-moving potential of a nagging child. “Mom, Dad, I want THIS for Christmas!” is a phrase that each year leads to billions of dollars of toy sales. And it’s a phrase parents can appreciate, because knowing what your kid actually wants to find under the tree helps minimize Christmas morning tears. Toy manufacturers and retailers spend millions of dollars each year to make sure their products are the ones on everyone’s wishlist, with TV and online ads, special retail displays, and old-fashioned toy catalogs.

The stakes are particularly high this holiday season, since one-time retail juggernaut Toys R Us closed all its US locations earlier this year. Even while its sales were declining, Toys R Us still accounted for around 12 percent of the estimated $27 billion total toy sales in 2017, according to Juli Lennett of NPD Group, the leading toy industry analysts in the US.

With Toys R Us gone, those sales are up for grabs, and Amazon wants them. The digital-first company was already beating Toys R Us in market share. And while it alone was not responsible for the demise of Toys R Us—poor business decisions and its sizable debt were also to blame—Amazon did put intense pressure on the toy store chain with extremely low prices, especially during the past few holidays seasons, using its familiar tactic of sacrificing profit for market share. Toys R Us couldn’t compete. Now Amazon hopes to feed from the carcass.

And so the ecommerce giant went retro this holiday season, mailing out its first-ever print toy catalog, like the one Toys R Us used to be known for. The “Holiday of Play” lookbook from Amazon is 68 pages long and features toys like the über-popular LOL! Surprise dolls, LEGO’s Star Wars Solo, and the Osmos Genius Kit for iPad. An Amazon representative told WIRED the catalog was sent it to millions of customers in November, but wouldn’t give exact numbers. It’s also available at Whole Foods and some physical Amazon store locations, or online in PDF and Kindle form.

The catalog may be made of paper, but it’s designed as a gateway to a digital transaction. What it lacks in pricing information it makes up in QR codes and stickers that kids can use to make note of presents they want their parents to buy. It also works with the Amazon app: Take a photo of the catalog item you (or your kids) want, and the app will pull up the listing and let you buy it from your phone.

“The great thing about a catalog is that it sits on the coffee table, where kids can find it,” says Steve Pasierb, CEO of The Toy Association, a trade group representing American toy manufacturers. “The catalog is a market share play. Amazon has a huge chance to win a lot of those holiday sales.”

Amazon’s top competitors for Toys R Us’ sales are Target and Walmart, according to experts—traditional retailers that have mailed out holiday catalogs for years. And in the wake of Toys R Us closing, both companies decided to devote more shelf space in their retail locations to toys, says Pasierb. With only a handful of physical stores in a few major cities, Amazon’s toy push comes in the form of a dedicated landing page for kids on its website, and its catalog.

“They’re emulating a proven method of doing business, which is the catalog, but using their muscle to engage at a particular time when there are just fewer retailers now that sell toys,” says Richard Gottlieb, CEO of research firm Global Toy Experts. Gottlieb was impressed with Amazon’s catalog, though he far preferred eBay’s catalog, full of weird and wild and expensive one-of-a-kind toys, which launched this season as well.

Amazon and eBay are joining the many other ecommerce companies still finding that print catalogs have value in the digital era. Catalogs are harder to ignore than the clutter of online ads, one footwear startup founder told Digiday earlier this year, explaining that his company gets a slightly higher return on direct mail versus digital-only marketing. Companies can also use data to target catalogs to customers they know are likely to spend more money. And they are a traditional way for families to compile gift wishlists.

“I’m old enough to remember the Sears catalog,” says Gottlieb. “I remember laying on the floor just going through it. I didn’t get much anything out of it. But you know, marking things, studying it in detail. It was wonderful and a wonderful way to communicate with your parents what you want.”

People really want and love catalogs. Take a glance at the reviews for the Kindle version on Amazon’s website. Plenty of customers posted bad reviews, not because they didn’t like the catalog but because they were annoyed that they didn’t get one.

“Why can’t we get a book and why didn’t we get one? We have been prime members for years, have 4 kids, buy lots of toys, and no book. And we can’t order one,” reads the top-rated review right now. “Would love to have the toy catalog delivered through the mail. The children love looking at it and circling what they like. I dont use Kindle. I’ve been a prime member for many years and did not get one,” reads another. A review from November 15 is even more direct: “Disappointed that I didn’t and can not now get a hard copy in the mail even though I have two small children and spend a ton on toys through Amazon Prime. I AM YOUR TARGET MARKET. Speaking of Target – I’ll be doing my toy shopping there because I am THAT petty.”

The disappointment those Amazon reviewers felt speaks to the reason catalogs have worked so well. They’re convenient, above all. Enjoyable, even. And this time of year, when millions of Americans are going to buy toys, it’s easier for children to thumb through a physical catalog that feels like a big book of wonders than a notoriously hard-to-navigate website.

Kids, especially, don’t have a great way to discover toys on the actual Amazon website. Even its dedicated toy section divided by age group is confusing to navigate. And while the site does have a wishlist feature, parents might not trust their kid to trawl through Amazon’s website on their account, since they could accidentally push one button and buy something. A print catalog is a way for Amazon to directly get its offering in front of children, while also giving parents a little bit more control over the process.

The toy catalog is a familiar marketing throwback in an otherwise rapidly evolving industry. Pasierb notes that with the growth in streaming entertainment for kids, the kinds of ads children see have changed. “Unboxing videos, the online kind of stuff is for a lot of our toy companies as important or now more important than traditional television advertising. A lot of our companies that no longer do traditional TV advertising do almost all exclusively digital,” says Pasierb. The highest-paid YouTube celebrity this year, according to Forbes, was a 7-year-old boy making unboxing videos of toys, earning an estimated $22 million in 12 months.

“[These kinds of ads] are entertainment in their own right,” says Lennett. “A lot of these kids, I don’t think they know the difference between watching a show—a real show—versus watching another kid playing with a toy on YouTube.”

“In my household, the word ‘TV’ is gone. Now it’s just ‘shows.’ Children have already fully internalized the idea of on demand, and that disrupts the ad model completely,” says David Carroll, professor of media design at the New School.

But Carroll doesn’t let his two kids watch YouTube, where they might see those ads. I don’t let my three-year-old son watch it, either. We are the exception; a recent Pew survey found that 81 percent of parents do allow their young kids to watch YouTube. Our reasons are less to do with fear of seeing ads than fear that we can’t control the algorithm and our children might get exposed to inappropriate, creepy, or ideological videos. Instead, our kids mostly watch on-demand shows on Amazon Prime, Netflix, iTunes, or Google Play—and those are largely free of ads.

“The only way [Amazon’s toy offerings] are getting in front of my children is through a catalog,” says Carroll. Only Carroll never got an Amazon catalog, despite his prolific Prime usage. Neither did I. Neither did Lennett, who says, “I’m mad I didn’t get one.” Though her kids are teenagers, she buys lots of stuff on Amazon and thought they’d receive one in the mail, as some of her friends did. An Amazon representative declined to comment on how the company decided who to send the catalog to, though the person offered to send me one. (I declined.)

For Amazon, a catalog also fits well with its bigger push into the physical world, with everything from actual store locations to Dash buttons you physically push to order goods. “[Amazon owner Jeff] Bezos has total world domination as the goal. So from that perspective it makes sense that they would not take a digital-only approach. They would take a whatever works approach,” says Carroll.

For world domination, Amazon has to be everything. And everywhere. Even in the living room, where your kid can find it and come up to you whining, “Mom! I want this!” That is, if Amazon sent you one.

More Great WIRED Stories

[awesomecolorfulcollectorwombat]

Amazon’s Holiday Toy Catalog Is Advertising Parents Actually Want

New Post has been published on http://brummy80.com/amazons-holiday-toy-catalog-is-advertising-parents-actually-want/

Amazon’s Holiday Toy Catalog Is Advertising Parents Actually Want

Never underestimate the market-moving potential of a nagging child. “Mom, Dad, I want THIS for Christmas!” is a phrase that each year leads to billions of dollars of toy sales. And it’s a phrase parents can appreciate, because knowing what your kid actually wants to find under the tree helps minimize Christmas morning tears. Toy manufacturers and retailers spend millions of dollars each year to make sure their products are the ones on everyone’s wishlist, with TV and online ads, special retail displays, and old-fashioned toy catalogs.

The stakes are particularly high this holiday season, since one-time retail juggernaut Toys R Us closed all its US locations earlier this year. Even while its sales were declining, Toys R Us still accounted for around 12 percent of the estimated $27 billion total toy sales in 2017, according to Juli Lennett of NPD Group, the leading toy industry analysts in the US.

With Toys R Us gone, those sales are up for grabs, and Amazon wants them. The digital-first company was already beating Toys R Us in market share. And while it alone was not responsible for the demise of Toys R Us—poor business decisions and its sizable debt were also to blame—Amazon did put intense pressure on the toy store chain with extremely low prices, especially during the past few holidays seasons, using its familiar tactic of sacrificing profit for market share. Toys R Us couldn’t compete. Now Amazon hopes to feed from the carcass.

And so the ecommerce giant went retro this holiday season, mailing out its first-ever print toy catalog, like the one Toys R Us used to be known for. The “Holiday of Play” lookbook from Amazon is 68 pages long and features toys like the über-popular LOL! Surprise dolls, LEGO’s Star Wars Solo, and the Osmos Genius Kit for iPad. An Amazon representative told WIRED the catalog was sent it to millions of customers in November, but wouldn’t give exact numbers. It’s also available at Whole Foods and some physical Amazon store locations, or online in PDF and Kindle form.

The catalog may be made of paper, but it’s designed as a gateway to a digital transaction. What it lacks in pricing information it makes up in QR codes and stickers that kids can use to make note of presents they want their parents to buy. It also works with the Amazon app: Take a photo of the catalog item you (or your kids) want, and the app will pull up the listing and let you buy it from your phone.

“The great thing about a catalog is that it sits on the coffee table, where kids can find it,” says Steve Pasierb, CEO of The Toy Association, a trade group representing American toy manufacturers. “The catalog is a market share play. Amazon has a huge chance to win a lot of those holiday sales.”

Amazon’s top competitors for Toys R Us’ sales are Target and Walmart, according to experts—traditional retailers that have mailed out holiday catalogs for years. And in the wake of Toys R Us closing, both companies decided to devote more shelf space in their retail locations to toys, says Pasierb. With only a handful of physical stores in a few major cities, Amazon’s toy push comes in the form of a dedicated landing page for kids on its website, and its catalog.

“They’re emulating a proven method of doing business, which is the catalog, but using their muscle to engage at a particular time when there are just fewer retailers now that sell toys,” says Richard Gottlieb, CEO of research firm Global Toy Experts. Gottlieb was impressed with Amazon’s catalog, though he far preferred eBay’s catalog, full of weird and wild and expensive one-of-a-kind toys, which launched this season as well.

Amazon and eBay are joining the many other ecommerce companies still finding that print catalogs have value in the digital era. Catalogs are harder to ignore than the clutter of online ads, one footwear startup founder told Digiday earlier this year, explaining that his company gets a slightly higher return on direct mail versus digital-only marketing. Companies can also use data to target catalogs to customers they know are likely to spend more money. And they are a traditional way for families to compile gift wishlists.

“I’m old enough to remember the Sears catalog,” says Gottlieb. “I remember laying on the floor just going through it. I didn’t get much anything out of it. But you know, marking things, studying it in detail. It was wonderful and a wonderful way to communicate with your parents what you want.”

People really want and love catalogs. Take a glance at the reviews for the Kindle version on Amazon’s website. Plenty of customers posted bad reviews, not because they didn’t like the catalog but because they were annoyed that they didn’t get one.

“Why can’t we get a book and why didn’t we get one? We have been prime members for years, have 4 kids, buy lots of toys, and no book. And we can’t order one,” reads the top-rated review right now. “Would love to have the toy catalog delivered through the mail. The children love looking at it and circling what they like. I dont use Kindle. I’ve been a prime member for many years and did not get one,” reads another. A review from November 15 is even more direct: “Disappointed that I didn’t and can not now get a hard copy in the mail even though I have two small children and spend a ton on toys through Amazon Prime. I AM YOUR TARGET MARKET. Speaking of Target – I’ll be doing my toy shopping there because I am THAT petty.”

The disappointment those Amazon reviewers felt speaks to the reason catalogs have worked so well. They’re convenient, above all. Enjoyable, even. And this time of year, when millions of Americans are going to buy toys, it’s easier for children to thumb through a physical catalog that feels like a big book of wonders than a notoriously hard-to-navigate website.

Kids, especially, don’t have a great way to discover toys on the actual Amazon website. Even its dedicated toy section divided by age group is confusing to navigate. And while the site does have a wishlist feature, parents might not trust their kid to trawl through Amazon’s website on their account, since they could accidentally push one button and buy something. A print catalog is a way for Amazon to directly get its offering in front of children, while also giving parents a little bit more control over the process.

The toy catalog is a familiar marketing throwback in an otherwise rapidly evolving industry. Pasierb notes that with the growth in streaming entertainment for kids, the kinds of ads children see have changed. “Unboxing videos, the online kind of stuff is for a lot of our toy companies as important or now more important than traditional television advertising. A lot of our companies that no longer do traditional TV advertising do almost all exclusively digital,” says Pasierb. The highest-paid YouTube celebrity this year, according to Forbes, was a 7-year-old boy making unboxing videos of toys, earning an estimated $22 million in 12 months.

“[These kinds of ads] are entertainment in their own right,” says Lennett. “A lot of these kids, I don’t think they know the difference between watching a show—a real show—versus watching another kid playing with a toy on YouTube.”

“In my household, the word ‘TV’ is gone. Now it’s just ‘shows.’ Children have already fully internalized the idea of on demand, and that disrupts the ad model completely,” says David Carroll, professor of media design at the New School.

But Carroll doesn’t let his two kids watch YouTube, where they might see those ads. I don’t let my three-year-old son watch it, either. We are the exception; a recent Pew survey found that 81 percent of parents do allow their young kids to watch YouTube. Our reasons are less to do with fear of seeing ads than fear that we can’t control the algorithm and our children might get exposed to inappropriate, creepy, or ideological videos. Instead, our kids mostly watch on-demand shows on Amazon Prime, Netflix, iTunes, or Google Play—and those are largely free of ads.

“The only way [Amazon’s toy offerings] are getting in front of my children is through a catalog,” says Carroll. Only Carroll never got an Amazon catalog, despite his prolific Prime usage. Neither did I. Neither did Lennett, who says, “I’m mad I didn’t get one.” Though her kids are teenagers, she buys lots of stuff on Amazon and thought they’d receive one in the mail, as some of her friends did. An Amazon representative declined to comment on how the company decided who to send the catalog to, though the person offered to send me one. (I declined.)

For Amazon, a catalog also fits well with its bigger push into the physical world, with everything from actual store locations to Dash buttons you physically push to order goods. “[Amazon owner Jeff] Bezos has total world domination as the goal. So from that perspective it makes sense that they would not take a digital-only approach. They would take a whatever works approach,” says Carroll.

For world domination, Amazon has to be everything. And everywhere. Even in the living room, where your kid can find it and come up to you whining, “Mom! I want this!” That is, if Amazon sent you one.

More Great WIRED Stories

[lazilysillyprince]

Amazon’s Holiday Toy Catalog Is Advertising Parents Actually Want

New Post has been published on http://brummy80.com/amazons-holiday-toy-catalog-is-advertising-parents-actually-want/

Amazon’s Holiday Toy Catalog Is Advertising Parents Actually Want

Never underestimate the market-moving potential of a nagging child. “Mom, Dad, I want THIS for Christmas!” is a phrase that each year leads to billions of dollars of toy sales. And it’s a phrase parents can appreciate, because knowing what your kid actually wants to find under the tree helps minimize Christmas morning tears. Toy manufacturers and retailers spend millions of dollars each year to make sure their products are the ones on everyone’s wishlist, with TV and online ads, special retail displays, and old-fashioned toy catalogs.

The stakes are particularly high this holiday season, since one-time retail juggernaut Toys R Us closed all its US locations earlier this year. Even while its sales were declining, Toys R Us still accounted for around 12 percent of the estimated $27 billion total toy sales in 2017, according to Juli Lennett of NPD Group, the leading toy industry analysts in the US.

With Toys R Us gone, those sales are up for grabs, and Amazon wants them. The digital-first company was already beating Toys R Us in market share. And while it alone was not responsible for the demise of Toys R Us—poor business decisions and its sizable debt were also to blame—Amazon did put intense pressure on the toy store chain with extremely low prices, especially during the past few holidays seasons, using its familiar tactic of sacrificing profit for market share. Toys R Us couldn’t compete. Now Amazon hopes to feed from the carcass.

And so the ecommerce giant went retro this holiday season, mailing out its first-ever print toy catalog, like the one Toys R Us used to be known for. The “Holiday of Play” lookbook from Amazon is 68 pages long and features toys like the über-popular LOL! Surprise dolls, LEGO’s Star Wars Solo, and the Osmos Genius Kit for iPad. An Amazon representative told WIRED the catalog was sent it to millions of customers in November, but wouldn’t give exact numbers. It’s also available at Whole Foods and some physical Amazon store locations, or online in PDF and Kindle form.

The catalog may be made of paper, but it’s designed as a gateway to a digital transaction. What it lacks in pricing information it makes up in QR codes and stickers that kids can use to make note of presents they want their parents to buy. It also works with the Amazon app: Take a photo of the catalog item you (or your kids) want, and the app will pull up the listing and let you buy it from your phone.

“The great thing about a catalog is that it sits on the coffee table, where kids can find it,” says Steve Pasierb, CEO of The Toy Association, a trade group representing American toy manufacturers. “The catalog is a market share play. Amazon has a huge chance to win a lot of those holiday sales.”

Amazon’s top competitors for Toys R Us’ sales are Target and Walmart, according to experts—traditional retailers that have mailed out holiday catalogs for years. And in the wake of Toys R Us closing, both companies decided to devote more shelf space in their retail locations to toys, says Pasierb. With only a handful of physical stores in a few major cities, Amazon’s toy push comes in the form of a dedicated landing page for kids on its website, and its catalog.

“They’re emulating a proven method of doing business, which is the catalog, but using their muscle to engage at a particular time when there are just fewer retailers now that sell toys,” says Richard Gottlieb, CEO of research firm Global Toy Experts. Gottlieb was impressed with Amazon’s catalog, though he far preferred eBay’s catalog, full of weird and wild and expensive one-of-a-kind toys, which launched this season as well.

Amazon and eBay are joining the many other ecommerce companies still finding that print catalogs have value in the digital era. Catalogs are harder to ignore than the clutter of online ads, one footwear startup founder told Digiday earlier this year, explaining that his company gets a slightly higher return on direct mail versus digital-only marketing. Companies can also use data to target catalogs to customers they know are likely to spend more money. And they are a traditional way for families to compile gift wishlists.

“I’m old enough to remember the Sears catalog,” says Gottlieb. “I remember laying on the floor just going through it. I didn’t get much anything out of it. But you know, marking things, studying it in detail. It was wonderful and a wonderful way to communicate with your parents what you want.”

People really want and love catalogs. Take a glance at the reviews for the Kindle version on Amazon’s website. Plenty of customers posted bad reviews, not because they didn’t like the catalog but because they were annoyed that they didn’t get one.

“Why can’t we get a book and why didn’t we get one? We have been prime members for years, have 4 kids, buy lots of toys, and no book. And we can’t order one,” reads the top-rated review right now. “Would love to have the toy catalog delivered through the mail. The children love looking at it and circling what they like. I dont use Kindle. I’ve been a prime member for many years and did not get one,” reads another. A review from November 15 is even more direct: “Disappointed that I didn’t and can not now get a hard copy in the mail even though I have two small children and spend a ton on toys through Amazon Prime. I AM YOUR TARGET MARKET. Speaking of Target – I’ll be doing my toy shopping there because I am THAT petty.”

The disappointment those Amazon reviewers felt speaks to the reason catalogs have worked so well. They’re convenient, above all. Enjoyable, even. And this time of year, when millions of Americans are going to buy toys, it’s easier for children to thumb through a physical catalog that feels like a big book of wonders than a notoriously hard-to-navigate website.

Kids, especially, don’t have a great way to discover toys on the actual Amazon website. Even its dedicated toy section divided by age group is confusing to navigate. And while the site does have a wishlist feature, parents might not trust their kid to trawl through Amazon’s website on their account, since they could accidentally push one button and buy something. A print catalog is a way for Amazon to directly get its offering in front of children, while also giving parents a little bit more control over the process.

The toy catalog is a familiar marketing throwback in an otherwise rapidly evolving industry. Pasierb notes that with the growth in streaming entertainment for kids, the kinds of ads children see have changed. “Unboxing videos, the online kind of stuff is for a lot of our toy companies as important or now more important than traditional television advertising. A lot of our companies that no longer do traditional TV advertising do almost all exclusively digital,” says Pasierb. The highest-paid YouTube celebrity this year, according to Forbes, was a 7-year-old boy making unboxing videos of toys, earning an estimated $22 million in 12 months.

“[These kinds of ads] are entertainment in their own right,” says Lennett. “A lot of these kids, I don’t think they know the difference between watching a show—a real show—versus watching another kid playing with a toy on YouTube.”

“In my household, the word ‘TV’ is gone. Now it’s just ‘shows.’ Children have already fully internalized the idea of on demand, and that disrupts the ad model completely,” says David Carroll, professor of media design at the New School.

But Carroll doesn’t let his two kids watch YouTube, where they might see those ads. I don’t let my three-year-old son watch it, either. We are the exception; a recent Pew survey found that 81 percent of parents do allow their young kids to watch YouTube. Our reasons are less to do with fear of seeing ads than fear that we can’t control the algorithm and our children might get exposed to inappropriate, creepy, or ideological videos. Instead, our kids mostly watch on-demand shows on Amazon Prime, Netflix, iTunes, or Google Play—and those are largely free of ads.

“The only way [Amazon’s toy offerings] are getting in front of my children is through a catalog,” says Carroll. Only Carroll never got an Amazon catalog, despite his prolific Prime usage. Neither did I. Neither did Lennett, who says, “I’m mad I didn’t get one.” Though her kids are teenagers, she buys lots of stuff on Amazon and thought they’d receive one in the mail, as some of her friends did. An Amazon representative declined to comment on how the company decided who to send the catalog to, though the person offered to send me one. (I declined.)

For Amazon, a catalog also fits well with its bigger push into the physical world, with everything from actual store locations to Dash buttons you physically push to order goods. “[Amazon owner Jeff] Bezos has total world domination as the goal. So from that perspective it makes sense that they would not take a digital-only approach. They would take a whatever works approach,” says Carroll.

For world domination, Amazon has to be everything. And everywhere. Even in the living room, where your kid can find it and come up to you whining, “Mom! I want this!” That is, if Amazon sent you one.

More Great WIRED Stories

[lapeaudelamemoire]

I think what people have on their wishlist is v indicative of who they are or what they're like so here's the top two things I currently really want: - Some Anatomies of Melancholy by Richard Burton (the Penguin Great Ideas book) - The Communist Manifesto, also the Penguin Great Ideas one Also a bunch of other titles in that series but yeah basically I'm collecting this book series according to what I find most interesting Well those and also it would be nice to have a copy of Milosz's poetry anthology A Book of Luminous Things bc I saw that, kinda wanted it, didn't want to blow $35 on it (yep that's the price at the local bookstore)

[steammopbuy-blog]

Neato Botvac D7 Connected review: Price drops by £300 in the January sales

Create healthy, nutritious soup with minimal hassle – this is our guide to picking the best soup makers to buy Love it or hate it, soup has been doing the rounds since 20,000BC. It’s a versatile dish that makes a tempting appetiser to a main course, or a cost-effective meal in itself, and it can always be stretched to feed more mouths. However, few of us have time to endlessly chop vegetables or stand over a pan to prevent our broth from burning – and that’s where the novelty of modern technoloy can really come into its own, revolutionising the preparation process of this traditional dish with electric soup makers.

Soup makers take all the hassle out of the process – simply pop your ingredients in, sear if required, add stock and the soup maker will do the rest. Steer clear of creamy blends and a soup maker makes for a dieter’s dream – you really couldn’t ask for a quicker, easier route towards getting your five-a-day.

See related Best stand mixers: Superb mixers from KitchenAid, Sage, Kenwood and Swan Best blender: The best smoothie makers from £20 Best food processors: Save time on meal-prep with these food processors from £47 If that sounds like just what you’ve been looking for, then it pays to make sure that your soup maker has really earned its place on the worktop. The best soup makers need to be simple to clean, and easy enough to operate that you don’t have to pore over an instruction manual every time you’re in the mood for chowder. Not sure what to look for? You’ll discover all the key features to look for in our guide below, followed by our picks of the best soup makers from £50 to £150.

How to buy the best soup maker for you What’s the difference between a soup maker and a blender? While some may resemble blenders (and others look a bit more like a kettle), soup makers have a heating element so they can cook soup in around 20 to 30 minutes. These soup makers work differently to blenders that will make soup using the friction of the spinning blades to heat the soup while blending, such as the Nutribullet Rx or Vitamix. If you’re opting for the latter type, it’s worth noting that you’ll need to avoid certain ingredients that require more prolonged heating/cooking, such as onion, or it may dominate the flavour of the soup. A good rule of thumb is to only use ingredients you’d be happy to eat raw or lightly cooked in a blade-friction soup maker, such as most vegetables, cooked meat and yoghurt. Alternatively, you can sauté ingredients in a pan beforehand.

Soup makers with a heating element may also allow you to sauté food, such as onions or meat, before adding the rest of your ingredients. You can then set the time and temperature (or use a preset programme) and get on with something else. Some will require meat to be cooked beforehand, so there may still be some preparation involved. During or after your soup is cooked, the maker will blend it to the required consistency. As blending hot liquids produces steam and can be potentially hazardous, this final step is the reason why soup-making capacity is less than that for blending cold liquids. Your soup maker should have a vented lid or one that locks into place for this reason.

How much should I spend? A good guide is to consider how much you’d spend on a blender and add a bit on. Basic soup makers can be picked up for around £40 while the more feature-packed models cost up to £140.

What sort of capacity do I need? A litre of soup is around three servings, so a soup maker that can accommodate over this should make a good batch. If you plan to make a lot of soup, opt for 1.4 litres or more.

What other features should I look for? The amount of functions tends to correspond to price but a few specific ones will help you get the most of out of your machine. Preset programmes are ideal for taking the guesswork out of recipes while a sauté function that enables frying at the start of cooking will result in more flavourful soup. Blending options allow you to choose your preferred consistency, plus for extra convenience, look for an appliance with a keep warm function. For more control, you can find soup makers with pause buttons that allow you to add ingredients, and stir functions so you can prevent ingredients from being overcooked. For fuss-free soup, look for makers are easily cleaned. Most need to be washed by hand or have a dedicated cleaning programme but a non-stick base, and a glass jug rather than plastic, will make life easier.

The best soup makers to buy from £50 1. Salter EK2411 Electric Soup Maker: Best for superfast soups Price when reviewed: £100

Aimed at those that regularly love to sip homemade soup but just don't have an abundance of time to prepare it, this Salter Electric Soup Maker enables users to so in just 20 minutes.

The stainless steel jug has a large 1.1l capacity which you can load with fresh ingredients, and features an easy pour lip. There's also three automatic settings, allowing you to choose between puree, chunky and blend, to achieve whichever soup thickness floats your boat.

With an intelligent control system, the soup maker can prevent overspill and dry burning, so you can leave the soup while it cooks, a little like a slow cooker. The jug detaches from the unit for quck and easy cleaning, so you can enjoy simple soup making without worrying about a pile of dishes to clean afterwards.

Key specs: 1.1 Litre capacity, 1000W, Stainless Steel

Image of Salter EK2411 Soup Maker, 1.1 Litre, 1000 W, Silver Salter EK2411 Soup Maker, 1.1 Litre, 1000 W, Silver £42.94 Buy now 2. Tefal BL841140 Easy Soup: The best soup maker under £100 Price when reviewed: £80

The Tefal Easy Soup resembles a kettle, with clearly labelled buttons on top and blades extending downwards from the lid, and its compact design means that it takes up minimal worktop space. On the minus side, you can’t see your soup as it’s being made and there’s no sauté function, so you may need to brown some ingredients in advance. There’s only one temperature for cooking – 100C – and no option to toggle cooking time. However, if ease of use and cleaning is on your wishlist, this appliance can create an endless supply of soup or compote in two clicks and without any mess. A detachable power cord makes for simple storage while a self-cleaning programme removes the need for scrubbing.

Key specs – Capacity: 1.2 litres; Programmes: Smooth, chunky, compote; Functions: 1 blending speed, 40-min keep warm, self-cleaning; Power: 1,000W

Buy now for £85 from Argos

3. Morphy Richards 501020 Total Control Soup Maker: A feature-packed soup maker Price when reviewed: £110

This kettle-style soup maker will make leftover soup a thing of the past thanks to its innovative portion control – instead of having measurements on the inside of the appliance, they’re on the outside. Simply fill to the level required, select the 2, 3, or 4 portion size using the dedicated button and it’ll adapt the cooking time to suit the volume. An auto keep warm after cooking is handy but even cleverer is the option to reheat, so it’ll work around a busy lifestyle. There are three options for the smoothness, unlike the standard two, plus a self-cleaning programme and the ability to blend drinks. Even better is having recipes on the brand’s Cook and Create app.

Key specs – Capacity: 1.6 litres; Programmes: Smooth, medium, chunky, drinks; Functions: 1 blending speed, sauté, reheat, pre-clean, 30-min keep warm, portion setting; Power: 1,160W

Image of Morphy Richards Total Control Soup Maker 501020 White Soupmaker Morphy Richards Total Control Soup Maker 501020 White Soupmaker £82.79 Buy now 4. Lakeland Touchscreen Soup Maker: A versatile high end soup maker Price when reviewed: £125

As one of the more expensive soup makers on the market, you’d expect to find features such as sauté or reheat, but this machine has neither. However, what it does have to justify its price is a sleek touchscreen; four automatic cooking programmes; and the choice to cook manually by varying time and temperature, and a slow blending function that means you won’t accidentally get purée when you wanted chunky and rustic. As well as soup programmes, it makes sauces, taking the effort out of béchamel and cooked dips, while its ice-crushing programme can be adapted for fresh lemonade and other drinks.

Key specs – Capacity: 2 litre jug, makes max 1.4 litres of soup; Programmes: Smooth, chunky, sauce; Functions: 3 blending speeds, low and high temp settings, 60-min timer, 20-min keep warm, ice, auto clean; Power: 1,000W heating 500W motor

Image of Lakeland Touchscreen Soup & Smoothie Maker - Black and Silver Lakeland Touchscreen Soup & Smoothie Maker - Black and Silver £129.99 Buy now 5. Cuisinart Soup Maker Plus SSB3U: The best soup maker under £150 Price when reviewed: £140

Cuisinart have been making soup makers for some time, so it’s no surprise to find that the Soup Maker Plus has evolved into more than just a blender with a heating element. As well as the supremely useful carrying handles at the side and a sauté function for browning ingredients, a slow stir function means you can use it to make risotto and curries. The lack of any preset programmes means that it’s more of a hands-on soup maker than some models here, but on the plus side this allows keen cooks to get a bit more creative. It can also be used like a standard blender for sauces, smoothies and crushing ice, plus it comes with a recipe booklet. A glass jar and non-stick base make clean-up simple.

Key specs – Capacity: 1.75 litre jug, makes max 1.4 litres of soup; Programmes: None; Functions: Four blending speeds plus pulse, simmer, sauté and high heat temps, slow stir, 30-min timer; Power: 1,000W heating 500W motor

Image of Cuisinart SSB3U Soup Maker Plus, Silver Cuisinart SSB3U Soup Maker Plus, Silver £124.94 Buy now 6. Scott Simplissimo Chef All In One Cook Blender: The most versatile blender Price when reviewed: £159

While it features buttons for smooth and chunky soup programmes, the Simplissimo Chef has been designed to be far more than a simple soup maker. As well as blending, with an auto programme for smoothies and ice and three manual speeds, it includes a steamer basket for poaching eggs in their shells and steaming fish and vegetables, alongside sous-vide capabilities. There’s also a manual mode with temperatures ranging from 40 to 99˚C and an eight-hour timer. Plus, for those who dread cleaning up after a soup-making session, it’s a dream. All the integral electronics mean that neither the two-litre glass jar or lid are dishwasher-safe so instead, there’s a self-cleaning programme to do the hard work for you, and a slim brush for scrubbing away stubborn debris.

Image of SCOTT UK - Simplissimo Chef All in One Cook Blender SCOTT UK - Simplissimo Chef All in One Cook Blender £159.00 Buy now Key specs – Capacity: 1.75 litres cold (1.4 litres of soup); Programmes: Chunky soup, smooth soup, sauce and smoothie/ice crush; Functions: Power: 1,100W

7. NutriBullet Rx blender and food processor: The best soup from scratch maker Price when reviewed: £127.99

Not content with whipping up super-healthy smoothies every day, Nutribullet’s Rx model will also make hot soup in seven minutes, using just the speed of its blades and its 2.3hp motor. Beefier than a basic machine, the Rx comes with a 352ml short cup and 1278ml oversized cup for smoothies as well as a vented one-litre SouperBlast pitcher with a removable blade unit that fits all three. To make soup, simply pop ingredients in the pitcher and hold the button on the front to start the heating cycle. As well as steaming soup, it’ll make hot sauces and nut butters, with all the parts dishwasher-safe (except the blades) so you can clean up quickly. On the downside, the soup is only heated to around 70C and there’s no reheat or keep warm function, so if you want it any hotter, you’ll have to turn to a pan or the microwave.

[heinzduthel]

Die Teufelsbibel-Trilogie: Drei Romane in einem E-Book

Die Teufelsbibel-Trilogie: Drei Romane in einem E-Book

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Bastei EntertainmentPrice: Free

Erstmals alle Romane der hochgelobten Teufelsbibel-Trilogie von Richard Dübell in einem Band.

Im 13. Jahrhundert wird eines der größten und rätselhaftesten Bücher der Welt erschaffen. Es ist das Lebenswerk eines Mannes, dessen…

[linuxgamenews]

DRAG to bring new vehicle physics to Early Access

DRAG is an upcoming futuristic racing game for Linux and Windows PC. Thanks to developer Orontes Games. Due to arrive in 2020 on Steam. In terms of vehicle physics, completely new paths are available in DRAG. With the introduction of 4CPT-technology (4-way contact point traction). So expect dynamic wheel loads for true physical weight transfer. Also in combination with a soft body tire model. Since this mean every component of the vehicle is simulated in real time. Down to the grab mass of the tire profile. While taking inspiration from Richard Burns Rally. As well as Spintires and BeamNG. Work on the debut title DRAG started back in 2013. But now the game is now getting close to an Early Access release. With deliberate restraint of driving aids like stability control. The driving feel is as pure as it can be. Something unheard of among many modern racing games. While making DRAG a refreshing indie take on the racing genre.

DRAG - Early Access Trailer

It also comes with a damage model. This allows for a competitive multiplayer wheel to wheel racing in rallycross fashion. Driving fast on a loose surface in close proximity of your opponents is challenging. Also a bit hard to master and highly rewarding. How does it work? You can follow other drivers by utilizing slipstream. Hence the name of the game DRAG. If you follow your opponents closely you will also gain boost. Which is at your disposal for overtaking. But should be used carefully. If you get too close and ram another vehicle, you take permanent damage. So if you intentionally push your opponents off track. You will probably end up with a wheel or two missing. With the current more hardcore online game mode. There's also no respawn in online races. Which makes wheel to wheel racing extremely intense. To stay out of trouble or in case you can't pass another driver. Since you can risk damage, use the joker lap. That's a longer route that everyone has to take at least once in DRAG race. It's a strategic element you can use to your advantage to win the race.

Features:

24 Singleplayer challenges

Multiplayer wheel-to-wheel racing in online or split screen matches

designed to be played with gamepad or keyboard

(support for racing wheels will be added in Early Access)

Since the DRAG custom engine is being developed under Linux. The futuristic racing game also comes with native Linux support. Plus cross platform Linux Windows multiplayer. The release date is still TBA. As is the price, for now. But you can Wishlist the game on Steam.