#ah I see. Well unfortunately your opinion is garbage and you are wrong

[heather-chandlers-weirder-cousin]

You see someone say that Sasha Waybright had a messy arc and two days later it's revealed in an analysis post that they think that because they completely and fundamentally misunderstood her character

[dragons-hoard-of-fandoms]

(Murder Drones Episode 7 spoilers!)

THEY CHANGED THE INTRO V IS OFFICIALLY DEAD FUNERAL'S ON THURSDAY

Cult. It's a cult. This is definitely a cult. They probably don't even realize it but it is undeniably some kind of cult.

Nori what are you doing. Nori why are you like this.

The cross is a USB??

They're keeping the Drones themselves in the lockers??

Of course the unpaid intern whose opinion doesn't matter is the only one with any sympathy for them.

Pink Solver core?? SOLVER LIZZY?!?

Ah great, the Envy shippers are gonna be using this as "proof" that he's still in love with V.

HE IMMEDIATELY APOLOGIZED HE LOVES HER SO MUCH

Tessa. Stop. I was willing to give you the benefit of a doubt but you're not doing yourself any favours.

And now she's being racist. Way to go.

"The power of a black hole in the palm of my hand."

SEE TESSA ALL YOU DID WAS MAKE EVERYTHING WORSE

THEY'RE BACK THAD AND LIZZY ARE FINALLY RELEVANT AGAIN

Did they change Thad's VA? He sounds different.

Was that V? Is she already back?

N BABY NO DON'T SAY THAT YOU DON'T DESERVE THIS

Eldritch V??

I can't wait for people to meme about his perfectly cut scream there.

Not going near the corpse. Smart move.

Cyn stop. Cyn stop. CYN STOP PLEASE I'M BEGGING I WANT YOU TO BE SYMPATHETIC

She hugged him. That's probably a good thing, right? That's probably proof that the real Cyn is still in there somewhere, right? THAT PROBABLY MEANS SHE MISSES HIM AND IS GENUINELY SORRY RIGHT

Nothin' like a good old-fashioned Robot Uprising Apocalypse, eh? In other news, Skynet is suing the Solver for copyright infringement.

Those admin privileges comin' in handy. Unfortunately they don't do much in the physical world.

Uzi has absolutely no reason to be crawling and scuttling around like a creature right now except for the simple fact that she wants to. Never change, little gremlin.

Oh I don't think you should watch that. N was right, y'know, there's probably stuff down here you don't wanna see.

Why does this remind me of the garbage maze in FNaF Security Breach?

Okay so it's not some kind of disembodied Solver Lizzy core. Don't blame me, the lights looked pink before and the cat ears headphones reminded me of Lizzy's bow.

Familiar?? Nori??? DID N ACTUALLY KILL YOU AND WHY AREN'T YOU BRITISH/MOMMY LONG LEGS

Khan? A hunk? In the words of Professor Membrane, NOT SCIENTIFICALLY POSSIBLE!!!

"How do you know my daughter?" "Well y'see, it all started when we tried to kill each other..."

Oh it was J. Is it bad to say I'm kind of relieved?

Are we getting the cool edgy Khan from the concept art??? Bro why are you so nonchalant about it being the end of the world.

INB4 people go frame-by-frame through the list looking for the most Russian-sounding name and say "THERE, THAT'S DOLL'S DAD"

Tessa was that really necessary? You're giving really bad vibes right now.

Patch? So the Solver can be removed? And she knows? Again, major bad vibes.

*FNaF 2 Foxy jumpscare*

I'm starting to suspect Yeva either can't or chooses not to talk.

Is she saying the Solver wiped her memory of the labs? I guess that would explain a few things.

N being so polite and cute as always.

What do you mean, "found its way back?" Where did it go? Is the timeline completely wrong? Did it start on Copper-9 then go to Earth then return to Copper-9? I'm so confused.

Nori why are you so casual about the prospect of your own daughter being a planet-eating eldritch abomination. This is exactly why I'm worried about the fandom giving you the Rose Quartz treatment.

I told you not to watch it, Uzi.

Welp, so much for Doll. Consider this karma for killing V. But "fight back?" Does that mean it can be resisted?

So now we know where Uzi gets it from.

Tessa no. Tessa stop. Tessa STOP. TESSA STOP YOU'RE NOT EVEN TRYING TO PRETEND TO HELP ANYMORE

YEAH N SAVE YOUR GIRLFRIEND

Whoa, didn't see that coming. No face reveal?? Does that mean she really is a Drone???

WHY CAN'T YOU JUST LET THEM BE HAPPY

Imagine meeting your daughter for the first time and she's currently being possessed by an eldritch abomination masquerading as her boyfriend's dead sister.

Every time I think this episode's about to end on a cliffhanger it doesn't.

EVEN WHEN SHE'S BEING POSSESSED BY AN ELDRITCH ABOMINATION MASQUERADING AS HIS DEAD SISTER HE WOULD RATHER DIE THAN LET HER BE HURT AND IT WAS ENOUGH TO SNAP HER OUT OF IT FOR LIKE HALF A SECOND HOW COULD ANYBODY SAY THEY'RE NOT IN LOVE

Oh no, now people are gonna write fics about Nori being vored by her own daughter.

"Hang out" is code for "date." "Hang out" is code for "boyfriend and girlfriend." "Hang out" is code for "madly in love with each other." "HANG OUT" IS CODE FOR "WE MAKE SWEET AND PASSIONATE LOVE TOGETHER EVERY SINGLE NIGHT WE'RE ALREADY PLANNING THE WEDDING AND I'M GONNA WEAR THE DRESS AND WE'RE GONNA NAME OUR KIDS GLOCK AND BAYONET"

Literally smacked the sense back into her.

Imagine meeting your mom for the first time and you don't know who she is and she's a gross little fleshy crab-spider-thing similar to what your boyfriend's jerk boss turned into so you punt her into a bottomless pit and she makes a dodgeball noise.

LOOK AT HER REACTION SHE KNOWS EXACTLY WHAT "HANG OUT" IS CODE FOR SHE JUST DIDN'T REALIZE HE THOUGHT OF IT THAT WAY TOO

My last two brain cells while watching this episode. Now would be a really good time for you two to kiss.

Oh good gosh she's not dead. Okay it wasn't at all necessary to put your head on backwards.

CYN IS HUMAN NOW??? OR IS SHE WEARING TESSA'S BODY LIKE ENNARD DID WITH MICHAEL

NO JUST LEAVE THEM ALONE ALREADY

Sorry J but you're still not plot relevant yet, you're not allowed to participate.

J: *sees the railgun* *has war flashbacks*

UZI YOU CAN'T SACRIFICE YOURSELF RIGHT IN FRONT OF HIM AND TELL HIM TO "DIE MAD" AS YOUR LAST WORDS THAT IS LITERALLY NOT OKAY

*Uzi falls* *screen fades to white* *UNDERTALE*

The Void???

Glitch I beg of you please don't make us wait another half a year for the next episode. And Liam please don't let it end after one season.

[tedturneriscrazy]

Another Saturday, another episode! Let's take a look at Keeping Up A-fear-ances!

(Good lord I'm starting to make myself sound like some sort of content creator)

Oh, okay, we're just starting at that level of intensity, huh?

Chest gem origins

Gwendolyn not being satisfied with managing the curse and determined to cure it? I'm sure this won't be a real world allegory in the slightest.

Oh, so Eda literally just stumbles upon the portal? I could call that contrived, but honestly it's not dissimilar to how Dipper found Journal 3. For that matter, the entirety of Lord of the Rings is predicated on an accidental discovery like this and nobody gave Tolkien shit about it.

Was the eye on the portal cracked in previous episodes? I don't remember.

Seems like Gwen is the "well-meaning but ultimately misguided" flavor of mom.

As an aside, I am now quite curious about how Eda's first trip to the human realm went. Maybe a future episode will cover it? At any rate, I smell a new favorite fic prompt.

The screaming alarms in the Demon Realm will never not be funny to me.

Also, that is a worrying number of hearts. Eda is straight up murdering these poor creatures.

For some reason the gold fang being removable never occurred to me as a possibility, and now I feel like a kid who's discovered that Santa isn't real.

Oh hey, the new outfit! I'm also impressed how close to symmetrical that tearing was.

I need to get a screencap of Luz sleeping on that stack of books because she is adorable.

Also, staying up all night researching? This season seems determined to completely eradicate the notion of Luz being dumb, and I am here for it.

I have a feeling the Hexside mug will be making its way to The Mystery Shack in the near future.

Lilith's first experience with transformation and she seems understandably horrified.

The curse acting stronger when stressed? That seems...important.

Ah, so the dismemberment is from the curse! A surprisingly useful side effect from what we've seen so far.

Can I just say that I appreciate how Eda's reaction to Lilith's first taste of transformation is immediate remedy, explanation, and reassurance? And doesn't make any snarky comments along the lines of "now you know what it's like?" Whatever happened in that week and a half must have been cathartic as hell.

"Always. Always curious." Luz is the TOH fandom.

(Also, Eda, you know she is, considering how much she went on about your "mysterious past" at the Covention)

"Magic bird tornado?!" Luz has a way with words that's just *chef's kiss*.

"Gwendolyn." Eda is already just fucking done.

"MOM?!?!" Jeez, Lilith, you're just now hearing all this?

I was charmed by how motherly Gwen was acting toward Eda, but then she kinda just...dismissed Lilith, and now I'm somehwat less charmed.

(Sweet flea as a term of endearment is kinda cute, though might have some unfortunate implications depending on how you want to interpret it)

"Who knows what they put in those nasty concoctions?" OH WE GOING FOR THE ANTI-VAXXERS NOW YESSSS

Luz and Lilith's reaction to that whole exchange is priceless.

Everyone's perspective here makes perfect sense for who they are and what they've been through.

Poor Lilith. Her cursing Eda is beginning to make more sense.

Ah, thus begins the collaboration.

"We'll be consulting someone very special." Why does that seem so...ominous?

Is there anyone who watched this episode for the first time whose bullshit detector didn't go off immediately when Gwen mentioned finding someone who promised a cure?

Heh, Palm Stings.

Nonbelievers will be blinded by the power of the tome? I'm sure they will be, Wartlop.

I must say, as something of a scientist myself (okay that's not true, I'm a QA tech for a food manufacturer, but I do have a chemistry degree), I am 100% here for the swings being taken at faith healing/"miracle" cures/anti-vaxxers in this episode

Oh, we Wile E. Coyote now, huh?

Also, interesting how much apple blood is being played up in this episode.

Lilith please you're projecting your mommy issues on a literal child

OH WE REALLY JUST WILE E. COYOTE HUH?

You're right, Luz, Gwen's bicep game is goals.

(Somewhat disappointed the scars are from questing and not beastkeeping, but eh)

Why do I get the feeling there's gonna be a future episode where everybody stages an intervention for Eda's apple blood problem?

"Those feathers mean we're driving the beast out" Gwen no

Hooty is holding the brain cell? Oh no...

If that ice cream came from the Night Market it would explain why Lilith sounds drunk.

(Side note: I can't be the only one getting flashbacks to Mermista's ice cream binge, right? Different context, but still)

"Abomi-berry" "Franken fruit" "Key slime pie" These are A+ flavor names.

Oh, there's the transformation...

I must say that whole segment kinda rubbed me the wrong way. The way King's opinion on his dad was changed seemed...I don't know how to describe it. I get that they needed a trigger for Lilith's transformation, but honestly if any part of the episode is contrived it's this.

"¡It really is that good!" So that's what an accent slip in written form looks like. (The upside down exclamation point is used in Spanish, in case anyone didn't know)

I keep half expecting Eda to say "Beep! Beep!" at this point.

Luz is finally asking questions. Took long enough.

Ah, the classic "moving the goal posts to extract more money from a desparate family member" technique.

Luz channeling Scorpion, we love to see it.

There is an exquisite irony in Eda's mom being scammed, I must say.

Ah, so that's where the elixirs went. Dammit, Gwen.

Luz is definitely thinking "Are you fucking kidding me right now?!"

Beast!Lilith is massive.

"Sweet flea?" Gwen just realized she done goofed.

"I can see you still need a little time." God Luz is so fucking smart.

The con revealed.

OH DAMN SCARY MAMA

(Also I am terrified of bees/wasps, so extra scary mama in my book)

The scam is revealed, goblins, getting back into the Wartlop disguise is kinda pointless.

She joined the Beast Keeping coven entirely to cure the curse? That's dedication. A shame you couldn't have spared some of that for Lilith.

Still, I do like badass scary mama Gwen. I'd be down to see more of that.

Owl Beast fight!

I am slayed by the fact that the portraits are now officially a recurring gag 😂

Aw, here's The Moment™️

"My turn to drive" Does this imply cars are a thing on the Boiling Isles after all?

Lilith crying almost immediately💔 She was holding onto a lot of pain.

Yes, King, she was trying to do her best. I mean, road to hell or whatever, but at least Gwen got there in the end.

WHAT?! YOU'RE BREAKING UP LULU AND HOOTCIFER?!?!?!?

Terrace, that's just cruel. (Worthless brownie points for whoever understands that reference)

No, seriously, you can't just give me my favorite inter-character relationship in the series after Lumity and just...take it away like that, come on! 😭😭😭😭😭😭

I know I should remark on how Lilith told Gwen about the circumstances of the curse, how Gwen rightfully accepted responsibility for the whole situation, and how Luz finds the big hair aspirational, but...NOOOO DON'T END THE ADVENTURES OF LULU AND HOOTCIFER WHYYYYYYYYY💔😭💔😭💔😭

"BUT I CAN'T HOLD A PEN!"

I will never emotionally recover from this.

Okay, I think I got that out of my system. Anyway...

Not the only human, huh? Cue the "Belos is a human" theorists going into maximum overdrive.

That said, a tantalizing lore dump.

We certainly do have a lot of garbage. Some of it even holds office. HEY-O!

Setting up the next episode, too. Continuity!

Camp's over, huh? That means it's been three months.

Way to misdirect with Camila, guys. That said, we have now seen Camila cry and I HATE it. (In the right way, I think)

WHAT THE FUCK

HOLY SHIT

CREEPY LUZ IS REAL WHAT

OWJEIWHQGIWWOPQ

(It's hard to keysmash on a phone, even with autocorrect off)

That wraps it up! The flaws in this episode seem more pronounced than any others in the season so far, but the good stuff was really good! Overall a solid episode! I know everybody's looking forward to library Lumity in the next one (so am I), but I'm personally eager to see what they do with Gus. His part is the A plot, after all.

Anyway, I'll be back at this next week! Still hard to believe this is a thing, but that's life, I guess.

[rina-writes]

Mom and Dad II

Part one: link

Summary: Sequel by popular demand! You and the Dolan Twins head home for Christmas, just in time for your six month anniversary with Grayson.  The only downside is that you fighting for Grayson’s attention with another girl....your toddler cousin, Monica

Your eyes fluttered open at the sound of that accompanied the seat belt sign flicking on.  You lifted your head off of Grayson’s shoulder and blinked the sleep out of your eyes.  The sweet smell of his cologne filled your nose and you resisted the urge to nuzzle into the crook of his neck.  You looked at him with a soft, slepy smile.  Grayson looked a bit bashful, his eyes glancing at your peripherally. You could tell he was pretending to not notice you waking up as he stared at his iPad in front of him. You pressed your lips to his cheek and his eyebrows raised slightly.  He turned to look at you and grinned, the little gems in his incisors sparkling in the low light of aircraft cabin.  His head dipped down and his lips pressed on to yours in one quick motion. You kissed back, massaging your lips softly against his.  Grayson’s hand slipped up your arm and he rested it at the back of your neck to pull you closer.  You adjusted yourself and tried to pull your weight in the kiss, but you had to be honest. The position was uncomfortable.

With the arm rest down and your seat belt digging into your stomach, you felt like you were in some kind of torture device.  But, you were kissing Grayson Dolan.  Correction, you were kissing your boyfriend, Grayson Dolan. This was going to be the first of many kisses over the next two weeks.  All your teenage fantasies of dating Grayson back in Jersey were going to come true.  Making out in the hot tub on the back patio, riding on the back of his ATV as your chin rested on his shoulder, baking cookies for Santa and then staying up all night watching movies and eating the treats yourself...the list went on. 

So, the fact that right now, your knee was a bit numb and you weren’t sure if your pinky was still working, you were still thrilled at what was to come.  Nothing could bring you down. You were dating your best friend.

“You two coming up for air anytime soon?” The flight attendant asked, making you both break apart with urgency.

You watched as Grayson’s face turned red, and wondered if you were blushing just as hard.  You tried to think of a retort, but the flight attendant just shoved the garbage bag toward you.

“Trash?” She asked, her Jersey accent reminding you of your own relatives.

“Nope.” You shook your head and Grayson did the same.

The flight attendant looked at Grayson, her red lipstick painted lips smacking together. Her eyes darted back at you before giving you an approving nod. “Not bad...” She said before moving to the next aisle.

You and Grayson stared at each other wide eyed, trying not to laugh.

“How freaking rude...” You muttered. “...no one asked for her opinion.”

“At least she said, I’m not bad...” Grayson’s eyes twinkled with a fake bravado as he stretched his arms over his head.

“Uh huh...” You rolled your eyes trying to hide your smile. “I’m glad she has reduced you to a piece of meat...and with a half-assed compliment at that.”

“You want to talk about rude...” Ethan said, slowly sitting up.

Oh yeah, the other reason you were uncomfortable was because your boyfriend’s twin’s head was as heavy as a boulder and it was resting on your arm the entire flight. Ethan had collapsed on your shoulder before the security video even started.  To be fair, it was early for him at 9am in the morning and Grayson wasn’t kind when waking him up.

“How are you going to make out with your brother right here?” Ethan asked, shaking his head as he leaned over to look at Grayson.  He then looked at you.  “I expected more from you, Y/N.  You’re way too mature for PDA.”

You blushed, once again at a loss for words. Had you been away from Jersey for too long? What happened to your clap back skills?

“Hey!” Grayson said, leaning over to look at Ethan. “You’re the one using my girlfriend as a pillow without asking.”

“I was using my BEST FRIEND as a pillow.” Ethan said, grabbing your arm and pulling you closer.  Not that he really needed to get closer.  Your seats were so close together, the twins’ thighs were infringing on your seat. Never again will you take the high ground and insist on traveling economy.  Not with the two largest twins in the world squishing you on a six hour flight.

“Oh here we go...” Grayson argued, grabbing your other arm.

You started to rub your temple and sighed.  With one hand still on your head and the other hand raised, you announced your signature move.

“I’m going to count to 3....” You warned, putting up a single finger. “1...”

“But, babe...” Grayson whined. 

“2...” You continued counting, another finger going up.

“Ugh, fine.” Ethan grunted, folding his arms.

The two silently faced forward, sulking.  You let out a sigh of relief.  If there was one perk about being the Mom friend, it was being able to control tantrums for all ages from age 2 to 20.

In the quiet of the plane landing, you couldn’t help, but start to drift back to your fantasies of you and Grayson over the winter break. By far,  you were most thrilled about your six month celebration.

 You didn’t have anything planned, but given the fact that Grayson went all out for your first month (a couple spa package followed by a candle-lit dinner), you couldn’t even fathom what he would do for six months. You even planned out your outfit. You found a similar red dress to the one Mariah Carey wore in ‘All I Want For Christmas is You.’ 

While you and Grayson hadn’t gotten frisky yet, you also splurged on a pretty number to wear underneath the dress as well.  Whether he got to see your undergarments or not, you had also prepared a more “family appropriate” gift that you were sure he would love. 

Your thoughts were interrupted by cabin lights flickering on.  You all hastily got out of your seats along with the other passengers, happy to feel your legs again. 

Once you were off the plane, Ethan and Grayson were back to the usual playful selves.  They were competing to see who could find and get all the suitcases off the belt the fastest.  You sat on the bench and called your parents to let them know you landed.  You glanced the boys and made the executive decision to call  their mom to let her know that you made it. 

With the responsible actions were complete, you sat back and watched the boys jumping over each other to grab suitcases.  You chuckled any time they grabbed the wrong suitcase and awkwardly apologized to the actual owner 

You smiled softly every time Grayson looked back to check if you were watching him.  It warmed your heart that he always wanted to impress you.  You gave him a little wave and he grinned brightly, like a little kid.  Whenever you were together, it felt like you catapulted back to your pre-teen selves, with you being the quiet cheerleader and him being the adventurous goof making you laugh.

Before you knew it, all the luggage was claimed.  Unfortunately, the winner of the challenge was indeterminate.  As the boys argued over who took the most cases and which ones were heavier, your parents called to say they were here.  Ethan hugged you first, knowing that Grayson’s goodbye was going to be longer.

“See you after Christmas!” Ethan said, rocking you from side to side in his bear hug. “Hopefully, Grayson doesn’t hog you too much at the ski resort.”

That was another reason you were over the moon about winter break.  Your family and the Dolans coordinated to go on a ski trip together.  This included some of your and the twins’ extended family as well. 

“I won’t let that happen, E.” You grinned. “We’ll all going to have a great time.”

You turned to Grayson who looked like he would explode if he had to wait a moment longer.  He hugged you tightly, pressing a kiss into your temple.  He was holding you like you weren’t going to see him in five days. 

“I can’t wait to see you.” Grayson cooed in your ear.  “Text me, okay?”

“Of course.” You smiled and pulled back to peck his lips. “Now, let’s go before my dad gets a ticket.”

“See you soon, baby.” Grayson gave you another kiss just below your ear, knowing it sent shivers up your spine. You smiled at him softly, willing your knees to not go weak.

“Come on!” Ethan said, grabbing one of your bags and gesturing for Grayson to grab the other.  

The boys greeted your parents and helped you packed the car.  You gave quicker hugs the second time around. The twins waved you off until you could no longer see them in the rear view mirror. You tried to hide your disappointment as you caught up with your parents.  You were happy to see them and wanted to tell them about school.  At the same time, you were counting down the days until the ski trip.

The day of the ski trip came faster than expected. You and Grayson didn’t text as much as you had hoped, but you had a great holiday.  You were grateful for the gifts you received and your family equally liked their gifts as well.  You also got to hang out with your favorite cousins, including Monica.  It seemed like she grew up so much in the last six months.  She was a lot more talkative now, mostly asking questions about everything she saw.  She was also adventurous and enjoyed climbing on top of things two to three times her height before jumping off. You had sent Grayson a few snaps of Monica’s tricks and he joked about being a proud papa. It made you miss him even more.

As your family checked into the ski lodge, you scanned the lobby for the Dolans who were eagerly awaiting your arrival.  You saw them instantly and waved dramatically before running over. Grayson hugged you tightly and immediately bent down to give you a strong kiss. It wasn’t super long or sensual, but there was enough force to remind you that he missed you dearly.

“Oh weird,” Cameron said from behind Grayson.  “I forgot you guys are together now.”

You blushed. “Ah yeah, I guess...” 

“No, no it’s good.” Cameron comforted you, moving to give you a hug. “The tension between you two was way weirder.  I’m happy for you. Both of you.”

You hugged her back. “Thanks, Cam.”

You hugged Ethan and their mom as well, engaging in the usual small talk until your family came over. 

“Grayson, so good to see you again!” You heard someone call from behind you. You glanced over your shoulder to see your cousin and his husband walking toward you with Monica holding your cousin’s hand.

“Hi!” Grayson said, more toward Monica than your cousins, but he was respectful enough to give your cousins hugs first before crouching down to talk to Monica.

While your cousins introduced themselves to the rest of the Dolans, you watched Grayson interact with Monica.  

“Do you remember me?” Grayson asked. “I’m Grayson.”

“I remember Gray.” She said, her voice soft and a shy. “Do you remember me?”

“She called me Gray!” Grayson said, turning back to look at you, his jaw dropping excitedly.  You walked closer to him and his eyes followed you, his head craning upward to meet your eyes.

“Apparently, Gray and beret were the only things she remembered about our trip.” You laughed. “Oh and dinosaur.”

“Not that is a competition,” Grayson smirked smugly. “But Gray is definitely a sign that she likes me more.”

“Whatever...” You rolled your eyes. “...if I had gorgeous hazel eyes and a dynamite smile, I’m sure toddlers would be fawning over me too.”

Grayson stood up and cupped your cheek. “You have the most beautiful eyes and the most stunning smile I’ve ever seen in my life.”

You blushed and glanced away. “D-Don’t say things like that with such a serious expression. It’s weird...”

Grayson chuckled before glancing down at Monica.  She reached her hands up to show she wanted to be picked up and Grayson obliged. 

“You want to meet my twin?” Grayson asked her.  Monica nodded and Grayson marched her over to Ethan to introduce the two. You were pretty sure Monica had no idea what a twin was, but she was just happy to be carried by someone.

You couldn’t help but laugh seeing Monica’s head turn from twin to twin. She stuttered out the word “G-Gray?” as she looked between the two men unable to comprehend why there were two of him.

“Babe,” Grayson laughed as he waved you over.  “Look at Monica’s face.”

He handed Monica to Ethan who took her laughing.  Monica gripped Ethan’s cheeks with her tiny hands and Ethan went the extra mile to suck in his cheeks and make silly faces for her.  Grayson took the opportunity to wrap his arms around you from behind and lay a soft kiss on your cheek.  Monica, seemingly realizing that she was not being held by Grayson, reached to go back into Grayson’s arms.

This earned laughter from the group as your cousin intercepted to take his daughter. Monica hugged on to your cousin, but her eyes didn’t break away from Grayson.

“I guess she has a type...” Ethan joked.

“Maybe it runs in the family.” Your cousin’s husband teased, earning more laughter.

You blushed as you and Grayson both chuckled nervously.

Monica was starting to fuss in your cousins arm.  She reached out to Grayson who finally relented. The warmth from his body disappeared as he pulled Monica into his arms.

Seeing Grayson with Monica warmed your heart.  At the same time, you couldn’t ignore the pang of jealousy in your chest. It was stupid, but for some reason, you were a bit worried that Monica would steal all your attention.  You scolded yourself.  This was your six months anniversary and winter vacation.  There was plenty of Grayson’s attention reserved for you that you could share with Monica.  

Or so, you thought.

The first day of the trip, Grayson and Ethan went off to go skiing.  This was understandable, as it was ski trip.  Except, you were quite new to the sport.  You had this fantasy of Grayson putting on your skis, and helping you go down the hill.  

You worked with the ski rental representative to get your skis on.  You balanced on your ski poles. Grayson chuckled as he walked over to adjust your goggles. 

“Don’t you look cute.” Grayson commented.

“I’m pretty nervous.” You said, looking down at the hill.  “You have to show me how to go down.”

“Oh...”Grayson’s voice trailed off as he looked behind him.  

Ethan was putting on his own skis and seemed to be waiting for Grayson to do the same.  Grayson bit his lip and looked at you sympathetically.

“So, I promised Ethan that we would start with the black diamond.” Grayson explained.

“Oh? Where is that?” You asked, looking around.  You looked down the hill to see if there was some kind of marking on the hill.

Grayson chuckled, “No, babe, it’s over there.”

Grayson pointed to another hill that was triple the size of yours, littered with trees and other obstacles.

“Oh...I see why this is called the bunny slope now.” You said, sadly.  “Maybe E would like a warm up.”

You and Grayson looked back at Ethan who looked like he had enough adrenaline coursing through his veins to jump out of an airplane.  Grayson looked at you and you smiled.

“It’s fine...” You nodded.  “...I’m sure I will surpass you soon enough.”

“Good luck, Y/N.” Grayson said with a smug chuckle.  “Don’t eat too much snow.”

You let out a “Hmph” sound as you turned to ski down the hill.  You couldn’t tell if you were screaming in your head or if the sound was actually leaving your lips. The tears streaming down your face, however, were very real.  You heard people yelling at you to make shapes with your feet, but it was too late.  Your were tumbling down and rolling like a ball to the end of the hill.  One minute you were staring at your feet and the next moment you were staring at the sky.  You coughed and sat up slowly.  You put up a thumbs up for the people who were watching you and they applauded.  You continued coughing and realized your tongue was like ice from...eating snow.

After three attempts down the hill, you were utterly humiliated.  As people, most parents, skied over with advice, you continued to struggle. As you walked back up the hill, your jaw dropped to see Grayson still at the top.  Ethan was nowhere to be found, and in his place was a little Monica.

 In that moment, you realized that Grayson had probably seen your embarrassing displays of your (apparent lack of) athleticism.  To avoid his teasing, you attempted to go back down the hill, really trying to impress.  As you landed on your butt, you were shocked to hear your boyfriend giggling...no actually giggling.  Except, it wasn’t at you, but at Monica. 

 If you weren’t so annoyed, you would have found it cute. Grayson’s large frame was contorting itself to fit on a little sled while he held Monica up on her skis. Her eyes danced between being wide open and clenched shut, the 2 mph speed probably feeling faster to her.  Grayson couldn’t stop laughing as her little winter coat bundled arms remained frozen in an outstretched position. 

Normally, you would have made a quip, but, you entire body was numb.  Unlike Monica, you were not as cozy in your jacket. Your confidence was also at an all time low and you also felt a bit lied to by Grayson. You left in a huff, ripping off your skis with great difficulty and marching back to the lodge to have hot chocolate.

When he and Monica reached the bottom of the slope, Grayson carried her back up with his sled underneath his free arm.  He was sweating and blotchy by the time he reached the top, suddenly realizing the weight of a toddler going uphill. He handed Monica to your cousin’s husband and Monica seemed more than ready to go back inside.

Grayson glanced around look for you, dusting his damp, dark brown hair from his eyes to get a better view.

“Where’s Y/N?” He asked, still out of breath.

“She went back inside.” Your cousin’s husband explained as he hugged Monica to his chest.  “Poor dear, couldn’t manage to stay up for longer than a few seconds.”

“Hah oh man I saw that,” Grayson managed to crack a smile. “I was hoping to help her out a bit. Oh well, maybe tomorrow.”

He motioned to go back to find you, but then Ethan approached him on bailing.  They both decided that they would switch to snowboards and go down shirtless.  He figured he would have a chance to cuddle and console you later, but the opportunity to be a savage with his twin, once in a....day.

Unbeknownst to Grayson, this decision just allowed you to stew in anger even more.  You were quiet and huffy at dinner. You also opted out of after dinner games and went to bed early.  

Grayson tried to hide his disappointment, as he didn’t want to guilt you into staying.  He walked you to your room and kissed your forehead.

“Are you sure you’re okay? I know you had a nasty--” He teased. 

You put a hand up to stop him. “I’m fine. It’s too embarrassing...”

Grayson chuckled and hugged you tightly.  “Sleep tight, love bug.”

“Yeah, you too.” You gave him a half smile and a weak hug.

As you turned to go into your room, Grayson grabbed your arm. He pulled you toward him with a gentle tug that didn’t hurt you, but still enough for your body to flow into his. The hairs on the back of your neck stood up as you met his eyes.  You were surprised to see them so soft.

“Are you mad at me?” He asked, his voice small and childlike.

“What? No...” You said, unable to look at him directly.  

“Come on, Y/N.” Grayson sighed. His tanned hand reached to your chin to force you to look at him. “You’re one of my childhood best friends, I think I can tell when you’re upset.”

“It’s stupid.” You said, suddenly feeling a jump in your eyes. You didn’t want to start crying over something so ridiculous.

“Nothing you do is stupid.  Just tell me, baby.” He smiled softly. “You know it’s been awhile since I’ve dated...I’m a little rusty. Tell me if I’m messing up”

“I really wanted to ski with you today.” You admitted, your voice quivering a little.

“Oh...” Grayson’s lips remained rounded as he nodded a bit. “Are you mad that I left you for E? Because I did think about...”

“No, no of course not.” You said, shaking your head quickly.  You hoped Grayson knew you better than that. “I don’t ever want to get between you and E.”

“I know! That’s why I’m kinda confused.” Grayson admitted, but he seemed relieved. “I’m guessing whatever it is...it’s why you decided to leave? I saw you still on the slope when I was coming down with Monica and then you just disappeared.”

You opened your mouth to speak, but then you closed it, hesitating.  Grayson used the bad of his thumb to rub your cheek as he waited patiently for your response.

“I guess, I had a hard time skiing and I was bummed that you didn’t help me, but you helped Monica.” You spoke quickly, your words almost blending together.

“Oh, baby...” Grayson said, his voice in between humored and consoling.  “I’m sorry...I guess I got a bit carried away taking care of Monica. I didn’t mean to make you jealous.”

“You’re laughing at me.” You complained, folding your arms.

Grayson grabbed your arms and pulled them down to rest at your side. 

“Just a little...” Grayson gave a soft laugh.  “But, you do realize that you’re my number one girl, right?”

You nodded and Grayson pursed his lips.  Using both hands he cupped your face and kissed you softly. Your eyes fluttered closed as you kissed back, instantly parting your lips for him.  His tongue slid in easily and quickly found yours. A soft moan left your lips which seemed to drive Grayson wild.  He backed you into the wall next to your hotel room door and pressed you against as he deepened the kiss. Your hands ran up and down Grayson’s chest and he grunted softly.  The sound of a door opening ripped you two apart.  You didn’t make eye contact with the elderly couple who walked past you, snickering.

Grayson looked at you and laughed, making you laugh as well.  He nibbled on his lower lip and kissed your forehead.

“I’ll make it up to you tomorrow. I know you have a day planned with your family, but tomorrow night, you’re mine.” 

That sent a shiver up your spine and a shy smile crossed your lips. “Okay...”

“That’s my girl.” He kissed your lips. “Love seeing that smile.”

“Love that you’re the cause of it.” You grinned. “Good night, baby.”

“Good night.” Grayson said, biting his lip again as he watched you open your door.  You gave him a final wave and closed the door behind you.  Once you heard his footsteps down the hall, you let out a little squeal.

The next day, it was girl’s day with your mom, two of your aunts and two of your cousins.  One of your aunts was single, traveled all the time, and always came back with fun stories and presents.  Your other aunt was the mother of your two cousins, who was known to be a bit more high strung in her recent years, but a wild child in her younger days.  Your two cousins were a bit younger than you and were the ones who kept you up to date with all the trends and internet drama.  You dating Grayson Dolan was probably the most fun thing in their life, even if they weren’t allowed to talk about it given the privacy of your relationship.

The plan was a “Girls’ Day” where you were going to the spa at the ski resort. The adults had a show or something to go to later that night, so they were going all out.  The youngsters were going to fend for themselves and probably wreak havoc on the hotel. You were hoping that you and Grayson would be able to sneak off somewhere since it was your official six months date.  You were disappointed that none of his snaps or texts so far mentioned the significance of the day, but you figured he was building up anticipation.

You sat in the sauna, your towel neatly wrapped around your chest. You pointedly ignored your adventurous aunt sprawled out, naked, as did her sister and your cousins.  Your mom wasn’t a huge fan of saunas, so she went to do face masks with Lisa and Cameron.  You weren’t a big fan of sauna either, but it had been awhile since you hung out with your female cousins and didn’t want to miss the chance to hear what cooky things your aunt would say.

“You know,” One of your cousins said, “They have a deal on waxes today.”

“Have you ever gotten a wax, Y/N?” Your other cousin asked.

You shook your head.  You thought about the lingerie you had stashed in your bag.  The underwear was pretty high cut.  Maybe this would be a good opportunity to get waxed for the first time.

“I would be down to try.” You said, not wanting to sound too eager.

“You’re dating that big, tan boy, right?” Your aunt said, sitting up and closing her legs in the process.

You nodded. “Grayson.” You and your two cousins said at the same time.

This caused a bit of giggling and you pretended to give them disapproving faces.

“Yes, well what does he like?” Your aunt asked, back on the topic of the wax.

There was a mischievous grin on her face that told you this was not about the wax, but more about how far you two had gone.  Your other aunt seemed to pick this else.

Your other aunt gasped, covering her mouth. “You can’t ask her that! She’s...”

“In her twenties!” Your aunt reminded her sister in a loud voice.  She turned back to you. “I guess since you haven’t gotten it before, he wouldn’t have a preference. Or at least you haven’t talked about it.  What are you thinking?”

“Uhm...” With all eyes on you, you felt under pressure. You didn’t know any wax names so you just said, “...everything?”

“Oh honey, no!” Your aunt shook her head.  “He needs a little landing strip.”

“Okay!” You other aunt stood up, holding her towel to her body. “Don’t you think this is a bit inappropriate?” She sighed and looked at you. “If you’re going to get a wax, do it for you, hon,not a man.”

Your wilder aunt snapped her fingers with approval. “That is true! Ooh, you should get a little design...”

“A design?” You and your cousins asked in unison.

“Oh boy....” Both aunts looked at each other knowingly. “You ladies have a lot to learn...”

Four hours later and you were laying on your hotel bed with and ice pack on your crotch.  You had been falling in and out of sleep, but a text from Grayson put some pep in your step.

GrayBear: Come to your cousin’s cabin ;)

Your jaw dropped.  You completely forgot Monica and her parents were staying at a cabin.  The resort had different types of rooms you could book.  From the website, you knew the cabins were drop dead gorgeous.  They were on the other side of the resort from the hotels and allowed you to view the sunrise each morning. It was single story, but had a full kitchen, a Jacuzzi bath tub and king sized beds in each bedroom.  Your cousins had opted for the two bedroom in case any of the “young people” wanted to stay with them for a night.  You guessed that Grayson got his bid in pretty early.

You tried not to get too excited as you texted him back.  You crawled off the bed, putting the ice pack in the freezer.  You took a quick shower, unable to stop staring at your newly manicured crotch.  The “heart attack” style with a little heart on top really made it look cute.  Once out of the shower, you made sure to spritz on your Wakeheart Grayson Dolan fragrance before putting on the lingerie.  You moisturized with a body butter, styled your hair and put on some light makeup: eyebrow pencil, mascara and a tinted lip gloss. 

Then you put on the red dress that hugged your shape.  At first, you were concerned because you could see the intricate lacing of the top of the bra under the dress.  With a bit of adjusting, you were able to make it seamless.  You debated putting on the Santa hat you got, but decided against it. You put on some boots that were a bit more on the fashionable side as they went up to your knees.  With a final glance in the mirror, you smiled to yourself.  You grabbed Grayson’s gift and put on a jacket that hid your outfit while keeping you a bit warm.

The walk to your cousin’s cabin felt longer than you expected.  The cold air stung your cheeks and your thighs shivered each time wind pushed past your zipped jacket.  You double checked the number on the cabin before ringing the bell.  When Grayson answered the door, you couldn’t help, but smile brightly.  He was wearing a button down shirt and dress slacks, adorned with his favorite design accessories.  You could tell he even styled his hair the way you liked.

“Hey,” Grayson said, his voice coming out deep and husky.

“Hey...” You replied, your voice coming out high pitched and squeaky.  

You both laughed and Grayson stepped to the side to let you in.  You were surprised to see Monica watching television in the living room area.

“Oh, is my cousin still here?” You asked, taking off your boots.

“Nope, it’s just us.” Grayson said, walking over to the dining table.  “I’m watching Monica for them.”

You jaw dropped. “Grayson...why would you choose to babysit tonight?” You asked, the irritation evident in your voice.

Grayson frowned and he turned to look at you. “Well...they needed someone to watch Monica if they were going to the show tonight.”

“But it could have been anyone else, Grayson.” You complained. “I’m not exactly dressed to babysit tonight.”

You removed your jacket and Grayson’s eyes widened.

“Wow...Y/N...you look breathtaking.” He made his way over to you, his hands going for your hips.

“Oh no you don’t...” You wagged your finger as you side stepped. “I am not scarring her for life by getting frisky in front of her.”

Grayson pouted, following you as you walked to the living room. His breath hitched in his throat when you bent down to pick up Monica and he got an eyeful of your thighs.

“Geez....are you even wearing anything under there?” Grayson muttered mostly to himself.

“You’ll never find out now, will you?” You quipped, turning back to look at him. Monica seemed comfortable in your arms as her eyes remained glued to the tv. You sat on the couch and Monica adjusted herself on your lap, but was clearly entranced by the cartoon program.

“Are you still jealous of Monica?” Grayson asked, putting his hands on his hips.

You remained focus on the television, avoiding his eyes. You groaned as you started to speak.

“This isn’t about her. This is about you not prioritizing our alone time.” You finally looked at him, his annoyed expression mirrored on your face. “You didn’t have to choose our six months date to babysit.”

“Babe, don’t you get it?” Grayson groaned.  “I only asked to babysit so we would have this place to ourselves.  Monica goes to bed at 8:15, our dinner is set to arrive at 8:30 and we have the place to ourselves until midnight.  Sure, the first hour is going to be a bit lame, but I thought it was kinda fitting, you know? I mean Monica is the reason we are together right.”

Your eyebrows went up in surprise. “Wow, Gray that was actually...”

“Well thought out? Insightful?” Grayson filled in with a cocky smirk.  “Babe, did you really think I would mess this up?  I didn’t wait years to date my dream girl to lose her after six months.”

You moved Monica off your lap and placed gently on the couch.  She looked at you as if she was seeing you for the first time.

“Pretty!” Monica said, before turning back to the tv.

“Hey, she’s mine.” Grayson joked, taking you hand to pull you off the couch and into his arms. “And I’m not sharing.”

You pecked his lips. “I’m sorry for doubting you.”

“It’s alright, you can just make it up to me.” Grayson teased.

“Oh, you better get ready.” You winked. “I may just give you a heart attack...”

A/N: Definitely let me know if I should continue this with their first time smut.  Thinking of making it more fluffy and cute kind of smut, but I’m not sure if the people who like this fic are a fan of smut.

[hankwritten]

Long Time Listener, First Time Caller

Demoman/Soldier, 2k

Request for @tokyotrain, Music

1. Reveille

There had never, ever, in the history of time or space, an instrument Demo hated more.

The bugle reverberated through the open window that someone had conspicuously left open, just in case the man in bed wouldn’t have been awakened by its bellows piercing through the glass. Not that that would ever happen. Demo was pretty sure he could’ve heard that damn instrument all the way in Hell, and grasped blindly for the pillow he could smother his own face in. It didn’t help. He shouldn’t be able to taste the cacophony the bugle was making, but there was the sting of copper on his tongue, as though his gums were bleeding in revolt.

“I’m going to kill him,” he muttered into the three layers of feathered pillows.

By the time he stumbled down to breakfast, there were bags under his eye, diluted homicidal intent on his face, and his fluffiest robe around his shoulders.

“And he’s finally up,” Mum said, and sipped her tea. Usually she’d be giving him an earful about his lazy behind tarrying in making her morning cup, but since she was smirking at his disheveled state, Soldier must have brewed it for her.

“Grrnn…” her son replied.

Coffee was the only thing that would make this morning better. Thankfully, there was a pot already brewing; Soldier wasn’t that heartless.

“I see you have acquired your morning cup of Joe!” Soldier said when he finally retired from his routine, sweeping into the kitchen on a wave of wholly unwelcome cheer. Beyond him—since the mansion didn’t have a flagpole, he’d found ways to make do—a rake was shoved into the lawn with a Stars ‘n Stripes bandana tied around it. This he erected every day at dawn. “Excellent! Now that you are refreshed and full of energy, you are capable of participating in post flag ceremony drills!”

Demo skipped the not on your life and went straight to, “I’m going to take that bloody thing and re-twist it until you can hang yourself with it.”

Mum laughed, and Soldier grinned jubilantly, confident in the knowledge that he would always win mornings.

2. Taunt

“Whomp whomp whaaaa,” the stupid bloody trombone played at him.

Half delirious from blood loss, Demo bared his teeth at the smug BLU above him who, as soon as he finished taunting, promptly executed his unwilling audience with a shotgun blast to the head.

This was the fifth time this had happened today, and Demo was pissed. Where was Soldier even keeping that thing? Every bloody time there was no sign of the instrument whatsoever, then as soon as victory was assured he reached into hammer space and pulled out five feet of tubing! It was ridiculous to drive a man crazy under the best of circumstances—but having it be your partner was something that garnered a certain degree of necessary revenge.

Demo had had enough. It was about time he did some stooping to Soldier’s level.

The next day, Demo managed to shove Soldier off Upward’s scaffolding with a well-timed shield bash. He couldn’t have hoped for a better opportunity, perfectly executed so Soldier hadn’t even gotten a kill on him that day, which might have ruined the ‘surprise’. He stood, one foot on the Soldier-shaped hole in the wood, and leaned on his knee.

“Nice of you to drop in!” he called.

“Eugh,” Soldier grumbled, impaled haphazardly on various bits of wood.

“As long as we’re both taking a breather, mind if get a bit of piping practice in?”

Not waiting for a reply, Demo pulled out the bagpipes that had been eagerly awaiting their time in the sun. Sitting as they had been for the past five years in the attic, derelict ever since he’d purchased them on a lark, he didn’t blame them. When he flexed the bag, dust came out the mouthpiece.

“Oh no,” Soldier said.

“Oh yes!” Demo disagreed, and began to play.

Soldier was in a very unfortunate situation, arm broken the exact wrong way to keep him from covering his own ears. Thus he was forced to listen as Demo played out a belching and eardrum-bleeding anti-tune, rippling the open air above the drop off with painful ineptitude.

“Never played a day in me life,” Demo said cheerfully as he ceased blowing into the bellows.

“And you should never do so again!” Soldier accused. “The only positive thing I can say about your first attempt is that thank God it is over!”

“Over?” Demo smirked. “Nah, there’s another four movements to get through.”

Soldier’s head flopped back in defeat, helmet rolling off into the abyss and eyes pointing at the sky. “Jesus and Thomas Edison, please give me strength.”

This was not heard over the resuming of what only the foolish and the damned would refer to as ‘music’.

3. Radio

“Do not touch that dial, maggot!”

“I’m shotgun, I get radio privileges.”

“Guh,” Soldier complained as Demo flipped until the NMDX began to flow from the box, polluting the airwaves with its electronic beats. “What even is this hippie garbage?”

“It’s disco, laddie!”

Demo was already grooving in his seat, dead set on enjoying the new wave in direct defiance of his partner’s annoyed twitch. Or, perhaps, maybe because of it.

Soldier grumbled. “Doesn’t make any damn sense! What’s a duck doing at a disco in the first place?”

“He wasn’t a duck when he went there,” Demo scoffed. “It’s like you’re not even listening to the song.”

“I’m trying not too.”

“Fine then! What do you like to listen to in the car?”

Soldier hummed quietly for a second, the fading carols of Rick Dees and His Cast of Idiots catching on the notes and escaping into the hum of the highway. After a moment of contemplation, Soldier peeled his eyes from the road and began to rummage about in the center console. This caused him to swerve wildly along the highway, other cars blaring their horns as the blue Camaro glided over the dotted line. Demo watched these events with mild interest.

“Aha!” Soldier exclaimed, emerging with an 8track clasped triumphantly in one hand. “This’ll get us to Springerville without all that play-it-backwards-to-alter-your-brainwaves nonsense!”

He slid the track into the Camaro’s player.

“…Welcome to the audio edition of the Farmer’s Almanac, for the year of our lord, 1972.”

“Oh god…”

“Hah!” Soldier brightened. “Now this is what I am talking about!”

It was going to be a long four hours.

4. Folk

Demo didn’t mind Soldier’s record, to be honest.

It seemed to be about something at least, more than he was used to the things Soldier liked being ‘about’ anything that wasn’t unquestioning patriotism. Sometime he wondered why, of all the folk records in the world, Soldier had decided to settle on Dust Bowl Ballads as his fixation in the realms of music. Americana of all kinds of blended together in Demo’s opinion, but despite the repetitive twang of the banjo and the stifling trite melody, even he could tell there was a story of deep melancholy to be found between the harmless little tunes.

So it wasn’t the fact that Soldier had a record. It was the fact that Soldier had a record, singular.

The idea that a person might purchase multiple albums over the course of their life and play them at different times when the mood struck them never seemed to have been explained to the Soldier. His concept to the record player was this: play the first side. When it was finished, flip it over and play the second side.

Repeat.

For hours.

No matter how sweet Woody Guthrie’s crooning was, having it repeated over and over again day in and day out could give anyone’s otherwise delightful performance all the dulcet notes of prison moonshine. It didn’t bother Soldier one bit it seemed—he would hum to himself merrily as he sat on the chaise, perfectly content to dissemble his shotgun on the coffee table while the same fifteen songs played.

“Y’know love,” Demo tried. “The reason records don’t come glued on to their players is because you can put other ones on. Look.”

He delicately switched out Ballads for something from his own collection, setting the needle so it could fall where it willed.

Soldier eyed the player dubiously as an entirely different style began to fall from the trumpet’s maw, grease rag in hand.

“I don’t get it,” he said as the first refrain came to a close. “You can’t understand a word she’s saying. What’s the point if you don’t know what’s going on?”

“You can’t understand it because it’s in Gaelic, lad.”

Soldier furrowed his brow. “Are you being vulgar at me right now, maggot?”

“Ach, no! I…” Demo sighed. Sometimes why he wondered why he even bothered. “Gaelic’s the language. It’s rare that anyone’ll make records in traditional tongues, but I had a few and I just thought…ah never mind.”

Gently he slid the record back into its sleeve and put Ballads back on.

“…Okay,” was all Soldier said, still frowning as Demo exited the room.

Demo wasn’t so callous to admit he hated the damn thing aloud, not when he could tell it made Soldier honestly, genuinely happy. They’d rib each other for their interests all the time, but not for something this important, and he resigned himself to having Woody as an unwanted houseguest for the rest of time.

That was, until a dreadful cold found him alone in the living room and unwilling to move.

The sickness (and Mum) had demanded he get plenty of bed rest, but he was just so bloody tired of spending all his time between the same four walls and occasionally the bathroom. He’d thought, well, there’s no harm in a quick trip downstairs, only to discover that once he’d gone horizontal on the couch, he lost all motivation to go back up those stairs.

That was how Soldier found him, cocooned in every blanket in the living room, blinking up pitifully as sniffled at his partner. To his credit, Soldier didn’t chastise him for sneaking out of bed; he simply sighed, moved the tissues box closer, and got Demo a cup of tea.

This was all unsurprising, if sweet. What was surprising was—as Demo lay with his back to the majority of the room—the sound of a record sliding into the player. A moment later the room was reendowed with Fear a Bhàta, the song flowing over his senses as he huddled for warmth under his blanket pile. He lifted his head to look at Soldier, who merely shrugged. That was all. Then he sat down on a chair near his Demoman and opened up an issue of Guns & Haircuts.

After that, sometimes Demo would come home to find a piece from his library playing, wafting through the mansion’s halls with no objection from its audience. If Jane had truly changed his mind, or was just doing it for Demo’s benefit, Demo couldn’t tell, but he appreciated the gesture all the same.

5. Piano

“Nothing?” Demo asked as his hands stilled across the keys, the last notes echoing in the music room to the resounding absence of symphony. The only thing left to fill it was the painfully normal sounds of two people simply being alive. “Not a single word of complaint?”

Soldier grinned, and shrugged. “Maybe we found something we can agree on.”

“And that something so happens to involve me doing all the work.” But despite that he grinned, taking Soldier’s hand and rubbing a thumb across the bones along its back, a private concert undergone and concluded. “You should help out. Grab a microphone, lay sultrily across my piano. That’d jazz up the performance.”

“Sounds like a good way to break a piano.”

“Excuses excuses.”

Soldier leaned down, capturing Demo’s mouth in a kiss, knees pressed against the back of the bench, hand still in Demo’s. When he they parted, Demo thought of how he always tasted like gunpowder, no matter how long it’d been.

Soldier smiled against Demo’s lips. “Play us another?”

“So demanding,” Demo smiled, and put fingers back to ivory.

[365daysofsasuhina]

[ @sasuhinabigflash2020 || Day One: Chance ] [ Uchiha Sasuke, Hyūga Hinata, Uzumaki Naruto, Haruno Sakura ] [ SasuHina, NaruSaku ] [ Verse: A Light Amongst Shadows ] [ AO3 Link ]

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With the end of the war and the aftermath all around it, Sasuke finds that what he feels the most is tired. Between the fighting, the politics, and his own personal struggles, all he wants to do upon securing his freedom is lay down and sleep for a thousand years. No more risks, no more struggling...just some peace and quiet.

But unfortunately, life waits for no man, not even Uchiha Sasuke. So, while he spends a great deal of his time cooped up at home, he eventually finds he can’t do so forever. While he has plenty on his mind, and could think himself through an entire day, there’s more that needs to be done.

Like work.

Missions are hardly a challenge, and he only takes them occasionally. Enough to support himself. Otherwise, he’s not too keen on supporting a system within a village that’s so cruelly wronged him in the past.

...but that’s what he devotes all of his spare thinking time into: it’s not going to be this way forever. So in the interim, he does what he must.

But that’s not all he finds himself unable to avoid.

“Oi! Teme!”

Lying on his stomach on a couch, Sasuke’s eyes peel open, gaze already murderous as Naruto quite clearly pounds on his door.

“I know you’re in there, ya bastard! Open up!”

Teeth gritting in a snarl, Sasuke takes to his feet and wrenches the door open. “What?”

Retreating half a step and looking ready to block a blow, Naruto hesitates a moment. “...jeez, what’s got you so crabby?”

“You, obviously. What do you want?”

“Well, uh...how to explain…” A finger itches at his chin. “The Academy’s putting on a fundraiser, and...I thought I’d ask if you could...help?”

“...help how?”

“Well the point is, it’s supposed t’be, like...a little carnival! Booths and all that. And you pay to play games or eat food or whatever. So, I thought, if you had some spare time tonight while it was going...you could maybe throw a few ryō their way…?”

Sasuke’s eyes narrow. “I can’t just make a donation or something?”

“Well, sure! But...c’mon man, that’s no fun! The kids have been working really hard on all their booths! And you know they’d be psyched to see ya!”

At that, the Uchiha’s expression painfully sours. “...I doubt that.”

“No, really! Look, I know…” Naruto sighs, a hand at his neck. “...I know it’s not easy. But these kids need people to look up to. And hey, you want people to know the truth, right? Well...where better to start than with kids? Before they get other garbage in their heads!”

He considers that. “...anyone else going?”

“I’ve got a few others roped in, but some of us are on missions right now. Sakura’s going, Kiba, Shikamaru...I think Ino said she’d think about it, and Hinata’s going!”

Though unchanged in expression, Sasuke internally brightens just a hair. “...all right, I’ll come out for a bit. Just...don’t expect much. I don’t want to be out late.”

“Oh please, they’ve all got bedtimes, too. The kids, I mean! It’s not gonna run all right or nothin’. It’ll open at two! So, y’know, you’ve got a little time.”

“Fine. I’ll be there.”

Naruto’s blues go starry. “Thanks, man! It means a lot! Iruka-sensei’s really excited about it!”

Ah, that explains a lot. Nodding, Sasuke watches the blond retreat before shutting his door. A little carnival, huh?

...sounds cute.

After a proper breakfast, some kata, and then a shower, Sasuke deems himself ready. Dressed as casually as any other day, he meanders toward the Academy grounds to see - as Naruto promised - little aisleways of booths.

...huh.

“Sasuke-kun!”

Repressing a cringe, he turns to see Sakura waving him over. Beside her stand Naruto and Hinata.

“See? Told you he’d come!”

“I’m a man of my word,” he replies blandly as he approaches.

“So, where to first? Games, food…?” Sakura asks, digging out her wallet.

“Games!” Naruto declares, hands thrown into the air. “I’m gonna win all of ‘em!”

“Carnivals are known for their rigged games,” the rosette counters with a grin.

“Pshhh, they’re kids! How much could they do?”

Heading for the proper booths, Sasuke stands idly toward the rear of the group, watching with guarded eyes. He hasn’t been to the Academy since…

“See anything you want to try, Sasuke-kun?”

Glancing to Hinata, Sasuke then roves eyes over the games. Most are...pretty basic. A ring toss, catching fish with a paper net, hitting targets...but one catches his attention. A game of chance, it declares.

“What’re the rules?” he asks the kid behind the booth, who quails slightly at the sight of him.

“We’d like to play, if that’s all right.” Coming up beside Sasuke, Hinata smiles charmingly. “But...we don’t know how.”

Glancing between the two, the little girl offers a set of dice. “...w-we roll. Whoever gets the higher number wins. The more rolls you do, the...the bigger the pot.”

“What are your prizes?”

After a pause, she fetches a little bag of...smaller bags? “I...made treats. If you win more, you get a bigger bag.”

“Well I like treats,” Hinata chirps in reply. “How about...two out of three to start?”

Nodding, the student hands Hinata a die, and they both roll. Hinata’s stops on a three, and the girl’s a five. Again. This time, Hinata’s six to her two.

In spite of himself, Sasuke finds himself watching the last cast a bit nervously. Hinata’s die lands with a five facing up. But the other spins and spins on a corner, landing on...a six.

“Aw, you got me!” Hinata laughs, handing over the proper ryō. “Want to try, Sasuke-kun?”

Eyeing the prizes, he admits, “...I’m not a big fan of sweets…”

“Well, maybe you can win them for me! And I’ll trade you another booth’s prize later.”

Again he glances to her, a flicker of uncertainty in his gaze. “...all right. Two out of three.”

Looking far more wary, the girl hands him a die. His first roll is a four, hers a one. Then his two to her five.

“Sure these dice aren’t loaded?” he teases, hesitating as she swiftly shakes her head.

“N-no! I just bought them this morning, I promise!”

“It’s all right,” Hinata gently cuts in. “He’s only joking. It’s all a game of chance after all, ne?”

“...yeah.” Taking up his die, Sasuke waits for the girl before casting. He ends up with a six, brightening only to see...a second six.

A tie.

“...roll again?” he asks, looking up.

Clearly unsure, the girl rapidly shakes her head again, and just hands him the bag. “T-thank you for playing!”

“...hey, I -?”

“Thank you,” Hinata intercedes, a hand on Sasuke’s arm before guiding him away.

In spite of himself, he feels his shoulders wilt. “...I just…”

“It’s all right, Sasuke-kun,” Hinata murmurs.

“No, it’s not. I knew coming here was a mistake,” he hisses bitterly. “I knew they’d -”

“Opinions are some of the slowest things to change. Sometimes...they never do. But not all of them matter.”

Watching a gaggle of students crowd around Naruto, Sasuke finds himself surprised by the painful pang in his chest. “...some matter more than you think.”

Softening, Hinata lays a hand upon his shoulder. “...it might not mean much, but...I’m not afraid of you, Sasuke-kun. I might not know or...understand completely, but I hope you know I’m on your side.”

Looking to her touch, Sasuke makes to reply...but soon finds himself interrupted as Naruto and Sakura rejoin them.

“Whoa, win some candy? Nice!”

“It took Naruto ten tries to beat the ring toss,” Sakura offers with a smirk, ignoring as the Uzumaki tries to make excuses.

Shaking his head, Sasuke hears Hinata giggle beside him, clearly amused by Naruto’s pleading.

...it brings another feeling to his chest, but...not quite the same as before.

“I vote we try some food next!” Sakura then offers, cutting Naruto off. “You can buy me my portion since you borrowed ryō for that game, Naruto.”

“But -! Sakura-chan, I -!”

“You want anything, Hinata?” Sasuke asks, following as the other pair start to move.

“No, thank you - I think the candy will suffice,” the Hyūga replies, smiling. “I don’t want to get a bellyache. Besides, I’m happy you won it for me.”

Ever so lightly, pink blooms along the bridge of Sasuke’s nose. “...hn. You’re welcome.”

Maybe this was all a good chance to take.

     Heya everybody! Long time no see! Not gonna lie, it feels both good and yet a little weird to be posting on this blog again, haha! Since I wasn’t able to participate in SHM this year due to the schedule change and my own busyness, I’m super psyched to be able to do this event. Admittedly I’m a little on the slow side writing lately (I recently took nearly a month hiatus from my main blog), but I’m going to do my best to do every day that I can, and try and keep the same word count average I had during the year-long challenge. That said, there might be days I skip if it keeps to be too much. But I’m hoping that will not be the case!      Anywho, just a little canon-divergent fluff-angst combo. I tried something in a modern verse first but it...flopped lol, so we have this instead which I like a lot better. Poor Sasuke...he has a lot to come to terms with and face upon his return after the war. But at least he’s got someone in his corner!      That said, it’s very late and my eyeballs are not happy lol, so I’ll be back tomorrow! Thanks for reading!

[cannotgiveafuck]

Shazam Week Prompt 2

I'm a day late and expect to do again, but I'm not quitting!

Heres prompt 2: Holidays

-

Halloween had always been one of Billy's favorite holidays. 

Before he was Captain Marvel, he would spend the day at the Fawcett Park Market, getting his face painted in preparation for trick-or-treating. The amount of candy he snagged would last him weeks, even far into December if he controlled himself.

Before he managed to permanently escape from his Uncle Ben, Billy enjoyed Halloween for the chance it gave him to be far away from the man. At least for the night. When he returned, he'd always have to hide a majority of his stash in his room, lest his uncle throw his entire loot into the garbage. 

Ever since becoming the Champion of Magic, however, Billy found no time for Halloween shenanigans anymore. He had a responsibility to uphold, civilians to watch over, monitor duty to attend. 

Billy Batson wasn't a kid anymore. 

"What do you mean, you're not going out? You're thirteen years old! Go throw eggs and TP at some old tosser's house, get sick from too much candy, and all of that!"

Billy didn't know where to begin, everything about what he'd said was just...wrong. "John, I'm twelve. And I'm on patrol tonight. Do you know how bad it would be if the League found out I… egged someone's house? I'd be toast!"

But the thought of throwing rotten eggs at his Uncle Ebenezer's house brought on a joy he was ashamed to acknowledge. 

On the other side of the mirror, Constantine took a long, contemplative drag of his cigarette. "Do you realize how mad what you just said was? You're twelve and you've got patrol for what? Fawcett? The entire bloody world?"

The familiar heat of indignation, of embarrassment, flared at his cheeks. "So what?"

When he sighed, smoke obscured part of his features, but his blue eyes - clear and crisp and so much deeper than others gave credit for - pinned Billy to his spot. It was an accusing stare. A look that challenged Billy, doubted him, was filled with more condescension than John's words could imitate. It was a look plenty of adults gave plenty of kids when they did something particularly exhausting. 

Billy hated that look.

He also knew that John hated the League, that Billy was even part of the League. Against all opinions of him, John was actually quite soft for children, became rather protective and reckless for them. Billy knew John thought of him as a child, heck, the magician looked out for him well enough, and Billy appreciated it, really he did. But…

"Know much about the spirit world and Hallow's Eve?" John asked, thankfully diverting the subject. At Billy's head shake, he continued. "The veil between alive, dead, and undead becomes thin, nearly open. All the planes of existence sync up. Get the most supernatural activity around that time. And I know the lot of em throw one killer of a ball."

Immediately, Billy had perked up, always interested in learning more about the magical community. But at the mention of a party filled with paranormal creatures?

Billy knew the glee on his face was evident as John chuckled.

"Unless, of course," he added, tone teasing, "you're too busy patrolling."

Ah, crap.

[[MORE]]

-x-

"Are you sure this will work?" Billy asked as he looked at John's handiwork. It was impressive and amazing, and Billy never got tired of seeing magic in action.

"C'mon now, lad, trust me here," he said with a face that did not at all look like John Constantine.

"It's not that I don't trust you, exactly…" 

They were currently in New York City, strolling down an alleyway that John was very certain lead into their destination. As they got ready earlier in the day, he had explained that the ball was a public affair, a yearly celebration that warranted total truce once entered. No murderous or underhanded conflict permitted on the property. The event was hosted by an affluent influence within the magical or supernatural community, though it took the effort of some key abilities to pull it off, to ensure the location was safe and secure. 

However, just because there was no guest list didn't mean anyone could waltz on in. Unless they were a plus one, a regular human or extraterrestrial could not enter the compound. Afterall, there was still so much that neither knew or understood about the world, about Earth and her inhabitants and patrons from all walks of existence. Only those immersed in the community and its secrets could be trusted to attend. 

Though, Billy was unsure how solid a definition of trust that they used. 

And then there were certain individuals or groups on a blacklist. No matter if they had attended before or were invited by someone going - once someone was banned, it took a great deal of influence to be welcomed back.

That is, unless someone was clever and crafty enough at magical tricks to sneak in.

Someone like the infamous and definitely blacklisted John Constantine.

"Think of it like any other Halloween party, yeah? Some folks go as themselves and that's fine, but boring, honestly, and others wear costumes. Nobody's gonna rip off someone's mask, right?" John smiled with far too many sharp teeth, with a face that was not his own. "That's how glamour is around these ilk."

It made sense, sure. But still, Billy couldn't help but feel...weird. Don't get him wrong, it was exciting getting to join in on this adventure, but looking into the mirror and instead of seeing himself, or even Captain Marvel, he saw a strange creature. It was creepy. 

Once John applied the glamour dust, Billy used his own magic to shape what he wanted to appear as - an aesthetic look inspired by his own Feyr. 

With Tawny's help, Billy became a tiger themed witch boy. Pointed ears and a gliding tail, sharp fangs and claws, wild hair and catlike eyes, a magically fitted black suit with striped markings that followed onto his skin, and eerie blood splatter across his hands and face - Billy so wanted to wear this for other Halloween parties.

(He doesn't actually believe he'd ever get the chance, but well, one could dream.)

Though, he admitted, he was sort of jealous of John's glamour. A full transformation into a stylishly decorated demon - large horns, full black eyes, fancy clothing and a grand colorful coat. He looked really, really cool.

"I could've gone as Marvel, you know. Being an adult seems easier for this," Billy commented. It would have also been safer. 

Great adventure aside, Billy wasn't stupid enough to ignore the dangers he was getting into. He may be magical inclined, but Marvel was the Champion of Magic. If things went south, he would prefer to have the Gods on his side. And great costume aside, something about attending a party as a kid, albeit a never aging one, seemed like it was asking for trouble. What if the glamour wasn't enough? What if his magic wasn't enough? What if someone saw right through them and realized Billy really was just a kid? If he got blacklisted from the coolest supernatural party of the year before he even turned eighteen, he would never live it down.

"You telling me that you want the entire place in chaos? That's what the Champion of the Gods would do. Half the party would swarm you for autographs and most likely try to pull you into rooms you do not want to go, and the other half would fall over themselves trying to leave the damn place. Some may even risk breaking the truce to get a piece of you."

"I thought that's what the glamour was for."

"A pretty costume can't hide the fact that he's the Champion of goddamn Magic. His energy alone would blind the lot like a beacon of divine fucking light." John stopped them before they reached a dead end wall practically oozing magical illusion. They kept a good enough distance, though he still lowered his voice. "I know you run with the big superhero league, but his reputation goes farther than you've been flying around in his cape. Near everyone knows about the Ancient Champions and their patron Gods, and half of those know about the Wizard and his lofty seat at the center of all Earthly magic. He's a bloody legend down here, so no shouting for your giant fuckall lightning, alright? You don't need to leave here with a massive target on your forehead."

Well, then. This was news to him.

"It'd be nice if you told me this before, you know, instead of when we are literally walking into the lions den!" Knowing that there could be powerfully magical beings who would want to hurt him… that seemed like important information.

"That's why I told you to stay as a kid, kid," John flicked at his forehead, infuriating and condescending all at once. Which wasn't an uncommon thing, unfortunately.

The response was immediate, Tawny's low rumble, warning John Constantine away.

"Yeah, yeah. I get it," he lead them forward and to Billy is felt like walking through a curtain to see what was covered on the other side. "Now, stay within eyesight of me, and don't accept drinks you haven't seen the bartender make. And even then, keep to what you know," John said. 

Billy knew what to do, thank you very much. He's had talks with his neighbor Candy, and he's heard older teens whisper at foster homes, and him and Freddy have watched teenage party movies. He knows what to do and unlike John, he doesn't go pissing off every magical being he comes across.

He'll be fine!

-x-

He was not fine.

Billy was very much not fine at all.

He felt sick and nauseous and all he wanted to do was throw up, but he couldn't and that made it worse. Thanks to John's quick thinking, he managed to get them out before Billy's glamour wore off. Though, with how fast John was walking, he was practically dragging Billy along, making the sidewalk blur and the street lights flare painfully. 

"That's what you get for accepting a drink from the eternal witch boy," John said, voice teasing. It was salt in Billy's wounds along with everything else right now.

Words seemed to escape him for the moment, so he gagged and spat on the ground at John's feet to let him know how he felt about that.

"Didn't take you for a delinquent," John continued. He sounded more amused and Billy hated it. "Not that I'm judging, mind you. I had my first taste of alcohol when I was ten."

"Didn't know," Billy muffled out. He'd tried beer before, him and Freddy had snuck out with a can each one time. They'd stolen it from one of the foster dad as he lay passed out on the couch. It was the most disgusting thing Billy had ever tasted.

"Yeah, can't blame you there. Mead tastes deceptively sweet. Either way, it was from Klarion and that's where you went wrong."

Okay, he really did not need a lecture right now. It was Halloween and he nearly blew their cover and he may have become an ally to Klarion and they almost got found out by Zatanna and all Billy wanted to do was sleep forever.

Still incapable of words, because talking required thinking and that was not going to happen - Billy groaned.

"No, no sleep yet. Gonna need some water and greasy food first, or you'll be feeling even more like shit come morning. Good thing I know a place and they won't ask questions." 

At the mere thought of food, Billy felt his stomach turn and finally threw up. Surprisingly, it made him feel better. 

"Hmm. Good thing you don't have monitor duty tomorrow, you're sleeping in. And no patrol, either. Consider it an extended holiday."

Halloween had never been this eventful before, at least at a personal level, but it all honesty, Billy didn't feel an ounce of regret. This was probably his favorite year yet.

Vomiting in the middle of the street excluded.

[canyouhearthelight]

The Miys, Ch. 42

Things are starting to return to normal on the Ark, and that means taking some things off Tyche’s plate!

Head’s up, this chapter has not been beta’d.  I feel like I’ve been saying that entirely too much, recently, but between my work schedule changing drastically and some things going on with @parisconstantine, getting the stories to her in a timely manner and still being able to post on time hasn’t been the most feasible thing.  Even then, her wifi situation is a bit sketchy.  So, any errors, please feel free to let me know in the comments, and they are all my errors, none are her fault. She’s going to see this at the same time all of you do!

Nervously, I ran my fingers through my hair as I made my way to the Council Chamber.  A part of me was hesitant about taking on a new assistant, no matter how necessary I knew it was.  Conor and Maverick’s speculation the night before had helped me none whatsoever. Names had been tossed around, along with opinions if either had any knowledge of the person in question. This one was rude, but that one was a toady… Around and around.  They had gotten me worked into an anxious mess by the time they started naming people who weren’t even being considered.  I could barely sleep the night before, and now looked like a not-so-fresh zombie staggering quickly to my office.

When I finally got there, it was something of a reassurance that Simon looked almost as bad.  Since leaving the Council and dumping his position on me, he had practically isolated himself from everyone on the ship.  For the past three months, however, he had been filling in and helping me.  It was more social interaction than he was used to, and the signs showed clearly on his face.

“You said my new assistant has been decided?” I asked as I walked over to the food console. “Did you eat recently?”

“Yes, and no but I’m fine,” he groaned as he leaned back and stretched his back.

I rolled my eyes hard enough that I hoped he could feel it, even though I was standing off to the side. “Bullshit. You better tell me if you like sweet or savory for breakfast, or you get whatever I pick.” I looked over my shoulder to see his face.

He yawned hugely before shrugging. “Just give me one of whatever you’re going to eat. I don’t care either way.”

“Biscuits and sausage gravy, it is.”

Once we were both settled with our food, I tried again. “So, you specifically asked me to come in today because the Council decided on my new assistant.”

Mouth full, he nodded before swallowing. “Yep. And before I tell you who it is, remember – I had no say in this, whatsoever. You vetted the list, and that constituted ‘our’ vote.  Xiomara’s approval was her vote, so this was decided by Eino, Pranav, Grey, and Huynh essentially.  It took forever, by the way, to reach a unanimous decision. Seventeen applicants? What were you thinking?”

“I was thinking that there were nearly a hundred before Xiomara, Derek, Tyche, and I went through them.” I gave him a pointed look as I finished of my breakfast and took a long sip of tea.

“Fine, fine,” he waved off and paused briefly. “Before I tell you who it is, we need to discuss training and integration.  You can’t just toss someone in to the deep end with something like this, Sophia.”

“I’m not an idiot, I know that.  The plan is to have them shadow Tyche so they can get familiar with the routines, specifically mine, and gradually take over from there.”

“That won’t work,” he told me bluntly, before looking sheepish and trying a different approach. “There may be a… personality conflict?” Looking away, he scratched the back of his hand.

Simon was hiding something.

I pushed a little harder, eyes narrowed. “She already agreed to do it, for all the candidates.”

“All of them?”

“Well, yeah. She was there when I went through the files.  Tyche manages work assignments, so she needed to have a head’s up of where to allocate more people. Especially considering some of the applicants – several were in essential functions.”

He tilted his head for a moment. “Yeah, some were shot down just because of that,” he conceded with a sigh. “It wasn’t that the Council had a problem with the applicant, more so with the best candidates for replacing them in their current roles.” He raised both hands in front of his face to fend of my coming protest. “Don’t get me wrong, Tyche chose the absolute best replacements for them, it’s not her fault that the options she had available were garbage. The Council is working on planning some vocational training to fix that, give us a better selection to fill those positions in the future.  It was practically a miracle that I was available to fill in for you the past few months.”

I nodded. “That’s a good idea.  Tyche wasn’t too happy with the people she had to select from, honestly.” That was a gross understatement.  She had been fuming when it came to some of the positions she tried to find candidates to fill.  There had been three applicants we had to reject, just because they were indispensable where they were, unfortunately.  The only thing that mollified my conscience was the fact that everyone on board worked to fill time, gain skills, and pull our weight.  None of us were paid, so becoming my assistant wasn’t exactly a promotion. It was just a different way to keep busy and help out.

Simon flicked a few files to my data pad. “These candidates were eliminated almost immediately. Two of them have a tendency to gossip, which means the Council wouldn’t be able to work on any projects without word getting out to the Ark. Things get twisted and turned around entirely too easily, so either person would be a damage control nightmare.” I just nodded in understanding. Derek had pointed out the gossiping tendencies, too, but hadn’t thought it was a large enough concern to eliminate anyone.

With a deep breath, my co-Councillor continued. “The rest in that group were eliminated due to either personal or personality conflicts with the rest of the Councillors or their administrators.”  Glancing through the files, I was surprised at just how many there were – how did seven different people piss off the Council that badly?  Definitely curious, I told myself.

“The last eight were all people in essential positions,” he admitted. I noticed he paused, yet again. It was unusual to say the least – Simon never grasped at his words. “Like I said before, we had to exclude a few of those, just because there was no good way to back fill their current roles. Not the way I would want this decided, but here is the winner.”

I flicked away my datapad without looking at the file. “Simon.  Is something wrong?”

A pause. Ah-ha! There it was. “With the new administrator? Not at all, why?” He blinked at me innocently.

“I don’t mean that, I mean with you. You keep pausing before you say something, and it isn’t like you. It makes me feel like you are hiding something, and you know I don’t like that. I thought you were working on that.” I was pleading, and I knew it. But at the same time, I couldn’t take any more intrigue and secrets right now.

His fact showed clearly the conflict going on inside, before he finally slashed a hand in front of him as though cutting someone off. It was not a gesture he made, and was made even stranger by the fact that I hadn’t said anything in several minutes. With both hands, he gave his face a brisk rub before looking at me guiltily. “I know that, in the past, I was really bad about not watching what I said, and it upset or offended a lot of people. There were several situations I handled incredibly poorly, including when you first woke up. So I… may?... have been running everything I was going to say by Miys and having them advise me on more diplomatic ways to say it.” He covered his face again, this time in embarrassment.

“Simon.” I equal parts touched and horrified: touched that he was trying to hard, but horrified that he felt the need to do this, even as we approached a year after his resignation from the Council. “How long has this been going on?”

“Only since I started filling in for you on the Council,” he admitted. “I isolated myself – well, pretty much all the time, to be honest. After, you know?” He waved ambiguously, but I knew he was referring to the night he explained I would be replacing him. “And that didn’t really help in the end. The entire reason I was so rude to everyone is because I spent a year with no one but Miys, and they had no concept of Terran manners at the time. To a degree, I had to be blunt with them to accomplish anything, until there were more Terrans on the Ark. And even then, you know quite a bit of our cultural niceties aren’t exactly universal.”

I thought that over for a bit. “So, you convinced Noah to be your ad-hoc speech writer and feed you appropriate manners for certain situations?”

“Maybe? Yes.  That’s pretty much what I did.  And it’s been working, honestly!” He laughed, but it sounded a little bitter. “It’s a hard pill to swallow, knowing that someone so alien to what we know is better at being human than I am.”

“For what it’s worth, Noah is a living computer and not exactly Superman,” I advised, trying to be comforting. When Simon looked confused, I explained. “I used to study comic books. You know who Superman is, right?” He nodded, so I continued. “Believe it or not, he was a really divisive character.  Sure, he was a hero, he was good, so on, so forth. Superhero stuff, in the beginning. But he was so perfect – handsome and strong, bulletproof, x-ray or heat vision, flight, and an absolute moral compass. Sounds great, right? Except for one detail, a tiny detail and yet a huge detail at the same time: this pinnacle of humanity wasn’t human.  He wasn’t even one of our gods.  He was a flat-out alien, from another planet. Sound familiar?” Simon glanced up before nodding with embarrassment. “You’re not alone, not by a long shot. Even comic book writers who were on the cusp of being the next big name would refuse to write for Superman, even if it meant stalling their career for a while.”

“I don’t hate Miys,” Simon objected.

“Oh, I know you don’t.  But it’s very normal, very human to feel how you’re feeling about needing him to tell you what to say.” I leaned forward, resting my elbows on the desk. “Noah isn’t Superman.  They are brilliant, and have access to so much data at once that they have an advantage in this.  Add to that, Noah is sentient, not an actual computer, so they pass the Turing test every time without breaking a sweat.  But have you tried just, doing it on your own?  Pay attention to how people react, apologize if you upset them, and adjust your approach? You know, like every human ever has had to do?” I quirked an eyebrow at him.

“Oh.”

“Yeah, dude.”

Simon glanced up at the ceiling again. “Hey, Miys.  I know you heard all that.”

“Correct,” came the flat buzz. Noah sounded a bit miffed.

“I’m sorry, dude. I’ve probably been bleeding resentment all over you for months, and you never even said anything. That’s horrible of me. You’ve been a super good friend, but I think Sophia may have a point on this one.”

A humming whine. “Simon, Wisdom is accurate in her explanation. Beyond works of entertainment, Terrans have shown the same reaction to deities in the past. There is significant historical precedent, so I was prepared for the possibility of this.  Also, I believe she is correct in regard to re-learning how to socialize with your people. Psychological studies indicate – “

“Thanks, Noah,” I interrupted.  This sounded like something they could ramble about for a while. Whether they admitted it or not, Noah did get excited about Terran psychology. “And thank you, for helping Simon for so long.  I know it couldn’t have been easy, on either of you.  You’re a good friend.”

“A pleasure, Wisdom,” they buzzed happily before turning off the communication system.

“So, try it the hard way?” I asked Simon, smiling gently.

He slid low in his chair, covering his face again. “If I have to, yes.  I can’t say I’ll do a great job, but I promise to try.” He peeked through his fingers. “Just… keep Tyche away from me for a bit? Until I get better at this?  I really don’t want her yelling at me again.”

I chuckled and nodded in agreement. “Now, let’s see who she’s going to be training.” One issue resolved, I flicked my datapad back in front of me. My eyebrows rose when I saw who my new administrator was, though I was only mildly surprised. “And this person somehow has no personal conflicts with the Council? None?”

He shook his head with a grin, relieved the topic was changed. “Being a pest doesn’t mean they can’t work with him. And honestly, it worked in his favor here. If nothing else, he showed dedication and determination.  Actually, the only person the Council was concerned he would have a conflict with is your sister.”

“And she included a letter of recommendation, if I remember right,” I muttered softly.  Clearing my throat, I spoke up a bit. “Believe it or not, she actually advocated for him when the file passed inspection.  So did Xiomara.”

“Better find those books, Sophia,” Simon leaned back and shook his head. “I think you have some crow to eat.  Hope you didn’t burn them yet.”

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[rebeccahpedersen]

Quick Hits!

TorontoRealtyBlog

“Little bit ‘a lotta things” today, as they say.

They who?  I don’t know.  But it sounded good when I wrote it.

I’m going to cover five or six topics today, all noteworthy & newsworthy, all free for your commentary.  Although I think I already know which one will get solicit the most opinion…

    How Can You Put A Price On Emotion?

If you didn’t read about this story a couple of weeks ago, then I’m so happy to be the one bringing it to your attention.

Sellers of a Beaches home have decided that they will not sell their property to the highest bidder, but rather, “a deserving young family who will benefit from the neighbourhood and preserve and enrich the community,” as the MLS listing states.

Here’s a Toronto Star article from May 15th:

“For sellers of this semi-detached home, a deserving family trumps price”

“This is about putting a nice young family in there. We’re not interested in a bidding war or anything like that,” the deceased seller’s daughter said.

As soon as this article came out, however, the reaction was just oh-so-perfect for the confusing times in 2018, in that the peanut gallery took a positive, and turned it into a negative.

That’s right; the peanut gallery started to call discrimination.

It is, I suppose.

Accepting the highest offer is an easy way to pick a winner.  But when you start examining people, their personalities, their lives, their values, and start putting a value on their self-worth, then surely that does become, by very definition of the word, “discriminatory.”

We’ll never know how the sellers decided to pick the winner, and for many, that’s the problem.

Personally, I think it’s the sellers’ right to sell to whoever they want, for whatever reasons.

But what if behind closed doors, they never intended to sell the house to a person of a particular race, age, demographic, sexual orientation, etc?

Wow.  Do you see what we’ve done as a society?  Our glass is half empty.  We create “what-if” scenarios, and then debate them.  I miss the 1980’s…

In any event, the clamouring died down a little bit, and the sale went forward.

Low and behold, the house sold for the asking price, and no more.

I wonder what it’ll be like for that new family, with everybody in the neighbourhood asking, “What did they do, or who are they, to ‘win’ that house?”

–

Who Doesn’t Love A New Tax?

Wasn’t this simply a matter of time?

“York Region demands power to bring in new taxes”

To the surprise of just about nobody, one of the taxes at the top of the list is a land transfer tax.

For those youngin’s out there, I do recall a time when the sale of properties in Toronto only had one land transfer tax!

Ah, the good old days!  When buying a $900,000 home only came with a $14,475 raping of the wallet, for absolutely no reason.

Then along came David Miller, who didn’t realize that “2 x 1 = 2,” and the tax doubled overnight.

Now it’s almost $30,000 to simply move.

Tell me I’m biased because I’m in real estate, but this tax, in my opinion, is the most bizarre tax I’ve ever seen.  The tax isn’t tied to anything!  Garbage pickup, hydro, sewer and water – all the services associated with a home are paid for via property taxes!  What is the land transfer tax tied to?  It’s a nothing tax.

In any event, York Region councillors are demanding that the government of Ontario give them power to increase, and create new taxes.  They’re facing a $220 Million budget shortfall, and while a fiscal conservative like myself might suggest reducing spending, the obvious answer for anybody in government is simply to increase taxes.

I think it’s prudent to keep in mind just how hard York Region has been hit with the decline in real estate prices in the last 12 months.

May I remind you of the chart from a blog post earlier this month:

(yes I know that chart is prettier than my usual screenshots from Excel, but I gussied it up for the Toronto Life presentation last night…)

York Region prices are down 20.6%, April YTD.

Adding another land transfer tax isn’t exactly going to help stabilize real estate prices, but perhaps the government doesn’t care?

–

F*** The Rich!

This is old news, but it was recently brought up again via an interaction I had with a buyer client.

This client is looking to purchase for $4,500,000, and was last active in November of 2016.

He’s been away for 18 months, and when calculating the expenses associated with his purchase, he was using his old spreadsheet – from 2016.

Little did he know, the government’s rebate on land transfer tax for first-time home buyers in 2017 was offset by an increase in land transfer tax for luxury homes.

Do you guys even remember this?  It’s like it almost didn’t make headlines.

Land transfer tax was increased from 2.0% to 2.5% on the portion of purchase price over $2,000,000.

That means an additional $12,500 in land transfer tax payable.

$12,500?

Really?  Am I making a fuss about this?

$12,500 in the context of a $4,500,000 house is a rounding error!

But what if I told you that the total amount of land transfer tax payable on this purchase was $197,950?  What then?

It’s tough to define the word “fair” in today’s world, especially in the context of politics and governance.

But I’d love to know what you all think.  As I alluded to in the previous point, people don’t really “get anything” for their payment of land transfer tax.  Is shelling out nearly $200,000, fair?  And would any of you subscribe to the simple theory that “These people can afford to pay it?”

–

Have You Seen My Agent?  I Can’t Find Her…

This is a great story.

And by “great,” I mean it’s entertaining.  But in reality, it’s sad, and pathetic.

I was set to receive offers on a listing last week, and I got a call around 5:30pm from a young lady who asked, “What time are offers?”

I told her we were going to review offers at 7:00pm.

I asked, “Are you an agent?” since I assumed she was.  But she said, “No, I’m not, but I’d like to submit an offer.”

I wasn’t sure if she meant through me, or not.  So I simply asked, and she said, “Maybe, I’m not sure yet.”

I dragged the situation out of her – it seems that she had a buyer agent working for her, who works out of Oakville, but she couldn’t get ahold of the agent.  She said she had been trying “all day,” and she knew “something was wrong” when her agent didn’t email her on the morning of offers (let alone, the night before…) to tell her that offers would be reviewed at 7pm, remind her she needs a deposit cheque, etc.

Imagine that.

You hire somebody to represent you, and they do anything but.

“What about somebody at the brokerage?” I asked her.  “If your agent is away on vacation, surely she has somebody to look after her business, right?”

“I don’t know,” she told me.  “I’m not sure how she runs her business; she’s often hard to reach.  What can I do here?  What are my options?” she asked me.

“If you want to make an offer, that can happen,” I explained.  “You can do so through any agent, any brokerage, whoever you want.”  I told her.

She asked if she could make the offer through me, and I explained that I was representing the seller, and while it’s technically possible, I don’t like multiple representation, and I’d rather her work with somebody from my brokerage.  Or another brokerage.  It was totally up to her.

I further explained the buyer representation rules and regulations, and explained the difference between a Buyer Representation Agreement and a Customer Service Agreement and that’s when she said something amazing: “I’ve already signed a buyer representation agreement with my agent.”

Well, crap.

“For me to speak to you about this property, a potential offer, and your options, technically, is interfering with a buyer under contract,” I explained.  “The B.R.A. is signed with the brokerage, not the agent,” I told her.  “So you can make the offer through anybody at the brokerage.”

Then I asked her, “Which brokerage is it?”

Even more amazingly, she said, “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” I asked.  “Re/Max, Royal Lepage, Homelife, Century 21, Chestnut Park, Keller Williams,” I went on, and on, and on.

“Nothing rings a bell,” she told me.

So I told her quite honestly, “You’re under contract with a brokerage, working with an agent that you can’t get in touch with.  I honestly don’t think I can help you.”

And this isn’t about commission, in case you’re wondering.  The truth is, I’m not sure if I could have even drafted the offer for her to sign, and submitted it on her behalf – with the full understanding that she was working with another brokerage, and they would receive the commission.  I just can’t interfere with somebody else’s client.  It’s very simple.

I felt bad for the girl.  I told her to call the brokerage, and ask for the manager or the broker of record, to see if they could help.

Then she reminded me that she didn’t know which brokerage it was, and I essentially gave up.

I don’t know that there’s a moral of the story, a conclusion, or any takeaway her.  It’s just really unfortunate.

–

“What Goes Up Must Come Down……Most Of The Time”

We see a lot of real estate “fluff” columns in the newspapers, so I love seeing something new and interesting; something I haven’t read about before.

Shane Dingman from the Globe & Mail wrote an interesting, albeit depressing piece last week:

“Elevators a let-down for Toronto condo dwellers”

According to the article, condominiums have the lowest rate of elevator “availability” at 93%, which translates to 25 out-of-service days per year.

But the really interesting part of the article was about one specific building in Toronto: 59 East Liberty Street.

Apparently none of the elevators were in service at one point, and residents were without options – other than the stairs.

One of the three elevators has been out of service for a year!

And what of the board of directors?

They told residents not to voice any displeasure; not to “tweet, talk to the media, or make waves.”

What a mess.

The article is a solid read – click the link above.

The post Quick Hits! appeared first on Toronto Real Estate Property Sales & Investments | Toronto Realty Blog by David Fleming.

Originated from https://ift.tt/2Jno6DI

[sonnefur]

I am going to cry

I’ve found the first hard evidence that my religion has been coopted by... troubling people. They’re bigoted, sexist, misogynistic, homophobic, anti-semitic hateful people. Nationalists. Presumably white. 

I feel... sick to my stomach. My heart hurts. I’m afraid. I’m so afraid. 

Content warnings for homophobia, misogyny, xenophobia, so much hate.

I’ll admit I started off kind of snippy, but then horror. I didn’t have the will to be snippy any more.

You both like paganism, and pagan.

Stranger: hey you

Stranger: you need to come to terms with reality

You: huh?

Stranger: there is nothing wrong with traditional patriarchal norms

Stranger: nor is there anything wrong with a masculine dominated polytheistic ethos

You: ill disagree with you there

You: probably because youve never been hurt by the patriarchy

You: but these things happen

Stranger: patriarchy will return

Stranger: no but it's okay to hurt people who aren't hetero males

You: unfortunately its never really left

Stranger: they are actually problematic

Stranger: it isn't strong enough

Stranger: we need full patriarchy

Stranger: not just implicit

You: im sorry you feel that way

Stranger: i am sorry but you have no right to tell me what to do

Stranger: I am born superior to you

Stranger: We need to bring back those values

You: thats cute but no

Stranger: you only exist like this because of the law

You: i exist as i choose to exist

Stranger: what if the law made you legally effectively a 3rd class slave?

You: thats all

Stranger: no you don't

Stranger: you have no rights

Stranger: you fucking faggot

Stranger: you owe me respect

Stranger: I am sick of having to live in this stupid monotheist nation

You: respect is earned not owed

Stranger: it is earned only by men

Stranger: never by faggots

You: cute but youre wrong again

Stranger: you're brainwashed by egalitarianism

Stranger: why does equality make sense at all?

Stranger: equality is a bad thing

You: and youre obsessed with your dick

Stranger: no

You: yeah

Stranger: masculinity is about chromosomes and testosterone

You: and your rage boner because you think your rights are being impinged upon

You: women have testosterone

Stranger: not as much

You: everyone has testosterone

Stranger: not even close to as much

Stranger: women are stupid trash

You: tell that to women with pcos

Stranger: look, the idea of love is another stupid idea

Stranger: any man who loves a woman or another man, romantically, is just a tool

Stranger: that shit is shameful garbage

Stranger: we need to bring back the roman value of gravitas

You: sounds like someone is bitter

You: hm

Stranger: i simply want to rule

You: solemnity?

Stranger: i want a new roman empire

You: you dont seem particularly solemn

You: i stand by my observation of the rageboner

Stranger: we need a class of highly selected highly intelligent males who can wield power

Stranger: no sissy talk

Stranger: you're just a fucking faggot who thinks he has any say in the world

You: wrong on two counts

Stranger: protip faggot: you shouldn't

You: You know who liked men?

Stranger: pure patriarchal power will return with brutality

You: Roman men

You: And Hellenic men

Stranger: actually romans considered the men who were penetrated low status

Stranger: and guess what freak

You: More rageboners?

Stranger: by the 3rd century roman culture had come to consider homosexuality a bad thing

You: Sources?

Stranger: the medieval world was roman-esque in culture, largely, and was homophobic

Stranger: homophobia was a step forward in civilization

You: Sources?

Stranger: we must revive romanitas

Stranger: oh my god faggot

Stranger: this shit is basic

Stranger: KNOWLEDGE

Stranger: you fucking FREAK

You: I'm quite familiar with Roman and medieval history

You: I'd like your sources

Stranger: this is incredibly basic, what am I wrong about?

Stranger: please, tell me anything I'm not accurate about

You: So you're saying you have none

Stranger: you're insane

You: No sources?

You: That's unfortunate

Stranger: you don't have sources for telling me caesar got assasinated either

Stranger: you dumb fag

Stranger: it's called common knowledge

Stranger: you're feigning ignorance to spread your aids

You: Not necessarily

Stranger: you filthy faggot freak

You: Maybe you should get the rageboner looked at

You: An erection lasting so long can't be good for you

Stranger: maybe you can go google if it's livy, or suetonius

Stranger: or someone else

You: Priapism is not healthy

You: Maybe it's Livy or Suetonius?

You: That's not a source

Stranger: you're very focused on erections, faggot

Stranger: maybe is maybe

Stranger: you don't fucking know either

You: And you're very focused on men who love men

Stranger: god you fucking pathetic sicko

You: How does it harm you, when a man loves another man?

Stranger: look, homosexuals are fine as long as they do their shit in private and hide it out of shame

Stranger: stay the fuck away from normal society and children

Stranger: and maybe your extra nice relatives won't throw you to the dogs

Stranger: maybe

Stranger: that's returning

Stranger: you'll see

Stranger: you think it's not? you're nuts

You: I'm curious

You: If homosexuality is fine, why bring up 'faggot' as a constant pejorative?

Stranger: I've been part of a nationalist pagan revivalist group since 2015

Stranger: we revive graeco-roman mores and religion

You: Oh?

Stranger: and by the way a more highly romanized form of christianity is acceptable

You: What's it called?

Stranger: but we must actually revive the empire itself

Stranger: i'd rather not tell you, you could easily use that info to find my real name and location

Stranger: it's all very public

Stranger: so no, I can't reveal that

Stranger: just know that the roman revival is coming

You: I have better things to do than try and look up some random person on the internet

Stranger: people think paganism is all viking fans

Stranger: we're here to bring back the romano-greek pantheon

You: Interesting

Stranger: and by the way the men of the iliad would strike you down just for being the sissy that you are

Stranger: sure the archaic classical world accepted homosexuality

You: Unlikely

Stranger: but they later came to revile it

Stranger: by the time of neoplatonism, homosexuality was reviled

You: Proper guest-host relations were very important to the Hellenes

Stranger: yes, as to the Germans

Stranger: common cultural traits

You: It would be a violation of xenia for me to be stricken down for simply existing and asking for hospitality

Stranger: Greeks were still barbaric until the 3rd/4th century

Stranger: Romans held onto some barbaric views allowing pederasty too

You: Incidentally, a massive violation of xenia was the cause of the Trojan war

Stranger: anything but normal male/female relations that can potentially produce offspring

Stranger: is evil

Stranger: and by the way there is no such thing as rape in marriage

Stranger: the woman belongs to the an in a state of marriage, sans abuse or beating

Stranger: my tribe believes strongly in this principle

Stranger: we raise our girls and our members to reject these post-christian ideas

Stranger: post-christian ideas like the individual who wants to divorce is more important than the collective of the married couple

You: Despite the fact that the Romans permitted divorce?

Stranger: but it was greatly limited

Stranger: also the early julian emperors heavily encouraged popular fertility

Stranger: high fecundity is a primary value of my group

Stranger: we see that christianity largely took over due to high fecundity

Stranger: it's up to us to trust in the Dei (Gods)

Stranger: and produce many, many offspring

Stranger: we need to carry forward the classical spirit

Stranger: and none of that included equality for women, foreign scum or perverts

Stranger: sorry but you are just tolerated as long as you lay down and shut up

Stranger: people like you make me deeply sick

Stranger: if your values are post 1800 then you really deserve to be flogged

Stranger: we need strong, primary, ancient values

You: Interesting idea of 'foreign'

Stranger: yes

Stranger: foreigners are 2nd class in any society

Stranger: that's only right

You: Who is a foreigner?

Stranger: non-Americans

Stranger: those who speak no English

You: Anyone can learn English

Stranger: yes

Stranger: they can assimilate

Stranger: but too any foreigners coming in too quickly can dilute a culture

Stranger: look at what happened to Dacia, you ignorant cumbucket

Stranger: educate yourself!

You: What are you afraid of losing?

Stranger: I'm not going down your rabbit hole, cocksucker

Stranger: you know very well why people naturally oppose foreign incursion

Stranger: the same reason the Gauls resisted Rome

You: I'm afraid I can't really agree.

Stranger: these basic universally applicable concepts are easily understood

Stranger: sorry, but you are just stupid or dishonest

Stranger: more likely the latter

You: Ah, not everyone who shares your opinions is stupid and uneducated, I see.

Stranger: they are though

Stranger: everyone outside my faith is stupid or uneducated

Stranger: if a smart person is educated properly, they will see it

Stranger: we have the supreme culture

Stranger: the knowledge

Stranger: the whole legacy of greece, rome and the west is ours

You: Is my father a foreigner?

Stranger: the gods chose us to bring back their holy epire

Stranger: he might be

Stranger: empire*

You: He's an immigrant. He's lived here for over fifty years

You: Speaks English, barely remembers his mother tongue

Stranger: where did he come from?

You: He shed blood for this country

You: Italy

You: He also isn't a US citizen

Stranger: well he is welcoe here especially as a son of the Romans

You: Is he a foreigner?

Stranger: not anymore

Stranger: but he should really study platonism, the pantheon, the classics, etc

Stranger: we need to bring the world kicking and screaming into a neopagan future

Stranger: monotheism out

Stranger: but a fresh off the boat disrespectful entitled foreigner needs to be slaughtered or beaten

Stranger: like the Romans slaughtered Celts

Stranger: we honor that

Stranger: the celts who sacked Rome are fine to kill

Stranger: they have no right to live as foreign invader scu

Stranger: m

You: And the people who come here seeking asylum?

Stranger: fuck that

You: Like my maternal family?

Stranger: if you don't benefit us economically, fuck off

Stranger: oh is your mother jewish?

You: Yes

Stranger: so surprised!

Stranger: not

Stranger: jews are a filthy people who brought the world monotheism

Stranger: that was the original evil action that made them cursed

You: I hope you rot for the rest of eternity in Tartarus. Shame on you for twisting the mos, and for twisting history to suit your hateful wishes. May the gods of the infernal realm make it so.

[rebeccahpedersen]

Quick Hits!

TorontoRealtyBlog

“Little bit ‘a lotta things” today, as they say.

They who?  I don’t know.  But it sounded good when I wrote it.

I’m going to cover five or six topics today, all noteworthy & newsworthy, all free for your commentary.  Although I think I already know which one will get solicit the most opinion…

    How Can You Put A Price On Emotion?

If you didn’t read about this story a couple of weeks ago, then I’m so happy to be the one bringing it to your attention.

Sellers of a Beaches home have decided that they will not sell their property to the highest bidder, but rather, “a deserving young family who will benefit from the neighbourhood and preserve and enrich the community,” as the MLS listing states.

Here’s a Toronto Star article from May 15th:

“For sellers of this semi-detached home, a deserving family trumps price”

“This is about putting a nice young family in there. We’re not interested in a bidding war or anything like that,” the deceased seller’s daughter said.

As soon as this article came out, however, the reaction was just oh-so-perfect for the confusing times in 2018, in that the peanut gallery took a positive, and turned it into a negative.

That’s right; the peanut gallery started to call discrimination.

It is, I suppose.

Accepting the highest offer is an easy way to pick a winner.  But when you start examining people, their personalities, their lives, their values, and start putting a value on their self-worth, then surely that does become, by very definition of the word, “discriminatory.”

We’ll never know how the sellers decided to pick the winner, and for many, that’s the problem.

Personally, I think it’s the sellers’ right to sell to whoever they want, for whatever reasons.

But what if behind closed doors, they never intended to sell the house to a person of a particular race, age, demographic, sexual orientation, etc?

Wow.  Do you see what we’ve done as a society?  Our glass is half empty.  We create “what-if” scenarios, and then debate them.  I miss the 1980’s…

In any event, the clamouring died down a little bit, and the sale went forward.

Low and behold, the house sold for the asking price, and no more.

I wonder what it’ll be like for that new family, with everybody in the neighbourhood asking, “What did they do, or who are they, to ‘win’ that house?”

–

Who Doesn’t Love A New Tax?

Wasn’t this simply a matter of time?

“York Region demands power to bring in new taxes”

To the surprise of just about nobody, one of the taxes at the top of the list is a land transfer tax.

For those youngin’s out there, I do recall a time when the sale of properties in Toronto only had one land transfer tax!

Ah, the good old days!  When buying a $900,000 home only came with a $14,475 raping of the wallet, for absolutely no reason.

Then along came David Miller, who didn’t realize that “2 x 1 = 2,” and the tax doubled overnight.

Now it’s almost $30,000 to simply move.

Tell me I’m biased because I’m in real estate, but this tax, in my opinion, is the most bizarre tax I’ve ever seen.  The tax isn’t tied to anything!  Garbage pickup, hydro, sewer and water – all the services associated with a home are paid for via property taxes!  What is the land transfer tax tied to?  It’s a nothing tax.

In any event, York Region councillors are demanding that the government of Ontario give them power to increase, and create new taxes.  They’re facing a $220 Million budget shortfall, and while a fiscal conservative like myself might suggest reducing spending, the obvious answer for anybody in government is simply to increase taxes.

I think it’s prudent to keep in mind just how hard York Region has been hit with the decline in real estate prices in the last 12 months.

May I remind you of the chart from a blog post earlier this month:

(yes I know that chart is prettier than my usual screenshots from Excel, but I gussied it up for the Toronto Life presentation last night…)

York Region prices are down 20.6%, April YTD.

Adding another land transfer tax isn’t exactly going to help stabilize real estate prices, but perhaps the government doesn’t care?

–

F*** The Rich!

This is old news, but it was recently brought up again via an interaction I had with a buyer client.

This client is looking to purchase for $4,500,000, and was last active in November of 2016.

He’s been away for 18 months, and when calculating the expenses associated with his purchase, he was using his old spreadsheet – from 2016.

Little did he know, the government’s rebate on land transfer tax for first-time home buyers in 2017 was offset by an increase in land transfer tax for luxury homes.

Do you guys even remember this?  It’s like it almost didn’t make headlines.

Land transfer tax was increased from 2.0% to 2.5% on the portion of purchase price over $2,000,000.

That means an additional $12,500 in land transfer tax payable.

$12,500?

Really?  Am I making a fuss about this?

$12,500 in the context of a $4,500,000 house is a rounding error!

But what if I told you that the total amount of land transfer tax payable on this purchase was $197,950?  What then?

It’s tough to define the word “fair” in today’s world, especially in the context of politics and governance.

But I’d love to know what you all think.  As I alluded to in the previous point, people don’t really “get anything” for their payment of land transfer tax.  Is shelling out nearly $200,000, fair?  And would any of you subscribe to the simple theory that “These people can afford to pay it?”

–

Have You Seen My Agent?  I Can’t Find Her…

This is a great story.

And by “great,” I mean it’s entertaining.  But in reality, it’s sad, and pathetic.

I was set to receive offers on a listing last week, and I got a call around 5:30pm from a young lady who asked, “What time are offers?”

I told her we were going to review offers at 7:00pm.

I asked, “Are you an agent?” since I assumed she was.  But she said, “No, I’m not, but I’d like to submit an offer.”

I wasn’t sure if she meant through me, or not.  So I simply asked, and she said, “Maybe, I’m not sure yet.”

I dragged the situation out of her – it seems that she had a buyer agent working for her, who works out of Oakville, but she couldn’t get ahold of the agent.  She said she had been trying “all day,” and she knew “something was wrong” when her agent didn’t email her on the morning of offers (let alone, the night before…) to tell her that offers would be reviewed at 7pm, remind her she needs a deposit cheque, etc.

Imagine that.

You hire somebody to represent you, and they do anything but.

“What about somebody at the brokerage?” I asked her.  “If your agent is away on vacation, surely she has somebody to look after her business, right?”

“I don’t know,” she told me.  “I’m not sure how she runs her business; she’s often hard to reach.  What can I do here?  What are my options?” she asked me.

“If you want to make an offer, that can happen,” I explained.  “You can do so through any agent, any brokerage, whoever you want.”  I told her.

She asked if she could make the offer through me, and I explained that I was representing the seller, and while it’s technically possible, I don’t like multiple representation, and I’d rather her work with somebody from my brokerage.  Or another brokerage.  It was totally up to her.

I further explained the buyer representation rules and regulations, and explained the difference between a Buyer Representation Agreement and a Customer Service Agreement and that’s when she said something amazing: “I’ve already signed a buyer representation agreement with my agent.”

Well, crap.

“For me to speak to you about this property, a potential offer, and your options, technically, is interfering with a buyer under contract,” I explained.  “The B.R.A. is signed with the brokerage, not the agent,” I told her.  “So you can make the offer through anybody at the brokerage.”

Then I asked her, “Which brokerage is it?”

Even more amazingly, she said, “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” I asked.  “Re/Max, Royal Lepage, Homelife, Century 21, Chestnut Park, Keller Williams,” I went on, and on, and on.

“Nothing rings a bell,” she told me.

So I told her quite honestly, “You’re under contract with a brokerage, working with an agent that you can’t get in touch with.  I honestly don’t think I can help you.”

And this isn’t about commission, in case you’re wondering.  The truth is, I’m not sure if I could have even drafted the offer for her to sign, and submitted it on her behalf – with the full understanding that she was working with another brokerage, and they would receive the commission.  I just can’t interfere with somebody else’s client.  It’s very simple.

I felt bad for the girl.  I told her to call the brokerage, and ask for the manager or the broker of record, to see if they could help.

Then she reminded me that she didn’t know which brokerage it was, and I essentially gave up.

I don’t know that there’s a moral of the story, a conclusion, or any takeaway her.  It’s just really unfortunate.

–

“What Goes Up Must Come Down……Most Of The Time”

We see a lot of real estate “fluff” columns in the newspapers, so I love seeing something new and interesting; something I haven’t read about before.

Shane Dingman from the Globe & Mail wrote an interesting, albeit depressing piece last week:

“Elevators a let-down for Toronto condo dwellers”

According to the article, condominiums have the lowest rate of elevator “availability” at 93%, which translates to 25 out-of-service days per year.

But the really interesting part of the article was about one specific building in Toronto: 59 East Liberty Street.

Apparently none of the elevators were in service at one point, and residents were without options – other than the stairs.

One of the three elevators has been out of service for a year!

And what of the board of directors?

They told residents not to voice any displeasure; not to “tweet, talk to the media, or make waves.”

What a mess.

The article is a solid read – click the link above.

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