Lana dating Hayes

Every Legal 4-Letter Word In Scrabble

2020.08.13 22:21 OB8O Every Legal 4-Letter Word In Scrabble

AAHS AALS ABAC ABAS ABBA ABBE ABBS ABED ABET ABID ABLE ABLY ABOS ABRI ABUT ABYE ABYS ACAI ACCA ACED ACER ACES ACHE ACHY ACID ACME ACNE ACRE ACTA ACTS ACYL ADAW ADDS ADDY ADIT ADOS ADRY ADZE AEON AERO AERY AESC AFAR AFFY AFRO AGAR AGAS AGED AGEE AGEN AGER AGES AGHA AGIN AGIO AGLU AGLY AGMA AGOG AGON AGUE AHED AHEM AHIS AHOY AIAS AIDA AIDE AIDS AIGA AILS AIMS AINE AINS AIRN AIRS AIRT AIRY AITS AITU AJAR AJEE AKAS AKED AKEE AKES AKIN ALAE ALAN ALAP ALAR ALAS ALAY ALBA ALBE ALBS ALCO ALEC ALEE ALEF ALES ALEW ALFA ALFS ALGA ALIF ALIT ALKO ALKY ALLS ALLY ALMA ALME ALMS ALOD ALOE ALOO ALOW ALPS ALSO ALTO ALTS ALUM ALUS AMAH AMAS AMBO AMEN AMES AMIA AMID AMIE AMIN AMIR AMIS AMLA AMMO AMOK AMPS AMUS AMYL ANAL ANAN ANAS ANCE ANDS ANES ANEW ANGA ANIL ANIS ANKH ANNA ANNO ANNS ANOA ANON ANOW ANSA ANTA ANTE ANTI ANTS ANUS APAY APED APER APES APEX APOD APOS APPS APSE APSO APTS AQUA ARAK ARAR ARBA ARBS ARCH ARCO ARCS ARDS AREA ARED AREG ARES ARET AREW ARFS ARGH ARIA ARID ARIL ARIS ARKS ARLE ARMS ARMY ARNA AROW ARPA ARSE ARSY ARTI ARTS ARTY ARUM ARVO ARYL ASAR ASCI ASEA ASHY ASKS ASPS ATAP ATES ATMA ATOC ATOK ATOM ATOP ATUA AUAS AUFS AUKS AULA AULD AUNE AUNT AURA AUTO AVAL AVAS AVEL AVER AVES AVID AVOS AVOW AWAY AWDL AWED AWEE AWES AWFY AWKS AWLS AWNS AWNY AWOL AWRY AXAL AXED AXEL AXES AXIL AXIS AXLE AXON AYAH AYES AYIN AYRE AYUS AZAN AZON AZYM
BAAL BAAS BABA BABE BABU BABY BACH BACK BACS BADE BADS BAEL BAFF BAFT BAGH BAGS BAHT BAHU BAIL BAIT BAJU BAKE BALD BALE BALK BALL BALM BALS BALU BAMS BANC BAND BANE BANG BANI BANK BANS BANT BAPS BAPU BARB BARD BARE BARF BARK BARM BARN BARP BARS BASE BASH BASK BASS BAST BATE BATH BATS BATT BAUD BAUK BAUR BAWD BAWL BAWN BAWR BAYE BAYS BAYT BEAD BEAK BEAM BEAN BEAR BEAT BEAU BECK BEDE BEDS BEDU BEEF BEEN BEEP BEER BEES BEET BEGO BEGS BEIN BELL BELS BELT BEMA BEND BENE BENI BENJ BENS BENT BERE BERG BERK BERM BEST BETA BETE BETH BETS BEVY BEYS BHAI BHAT BHEL BHUT BIAS BIBB BIBS BICE BIDE BIDI BIDS BIEN BIER BIFF BIGA BIGG BIGS BIKE BILE BILK BILL BIMA BIND BINE BING BINK BINS BINT BIOG BIOS BIRD BIRK BIRL BIRO BIRR BISE BISH BISK BIST BITE BITO BITS BITT BIZE BLAB BLAD BLAE BLAG BLAH BLAM BLAT BLAW BLAY BLEB BLED BLEE BLET BLEW BLEY BLIN BLIP BLIT BLOB BLOC BLOG BLOT BLOW BLUB BLUE BLUR BOAB BOAK BOAR BOAS BOAT BOBA BOBS BOCK BODE BODS BODY BOEP BOET BOFF BOGS BOGY BOHO BOHS BOIL BOIS BOKE BOKO BOKS BOLA BOLD BOLE BOLL BOLO BOLT BOMA BOMB BONA BOND BONE BONG BONK BONY BOOB BOOH BOOK BOOL BOOM BOON BOOR BOOS BOOT BOPS BORA BORD BORE BORK BORM BORN BORS BORT BOSH BOSK BOSS BOTA BOTE BOTH BOTS BOTT BOUK BOUN BOUT BOWL BOWR BOWS BOXY BOYF BOYG BOYO BOYS BOZO BRAD BRAE BRAG BRAK BRAN BRAS BRAT BRAW BRAY BRED BREE BREI BREN BRER BREW BREY BRIE BRIG BRIK BRIM BRIN BRIO BRIS BRIT BROD BROG BROO BROS BROW BRRR BRUS BRUT BRUX BUAT BUBA BUBO BUBS BUBU BUCK BUDA BUDI BUDO BUDS BUFF BUFO BUGS BUHL BUHR BUIK BUKE BULB BULK BULL BUMF BUMP BUMS BUNA BUND BUNG BUNK BUNN BUNS BUNT BUOY BURA BURB BURD BURG BURK BURL BURN BURP BURR BURS BURY BUSH BUSK BUSS BUST BUSY BUTE BUTS BUTT BUYS BUZZ BYDE BYES BYKE BYRE BYRL BYTE
CAAS CABA CABS CACA CACK CADE CADI CADS CAFE CAFF CAGE CAGS CAGY CAID CAIN CAKE CAKY CALF CALK CALL CALM CALO CALP CALX CAMA CAME CAMO CAMP CAMS CANE CANG CANN CANS CANT CANY CAPA CAPE CAPH CAPI CAPO CAPS CARB CARD CARE CARK CARL CARN CARP CARR CARS CART CASA CASE CASH CASK CAST CATE CATS CAUF CAUK CAUL CAUM CAUP CAVA CAVE CAVY CAWK CAWS CAYS CEAS CECA CEDE CEDI CEES CEIL CELL CELS CELT CENS CENT CEPE CEPS CERE CERO CERT CESS CETE CHAD CHAI CHAL CHAM CHAO CHAP CHAR CHAS CHAT CHAV CHAW CHAY CHEF CHER CHEW CHEZ CHIA CHIB CHIC CHID CHIK CHIN CHIP CHIS CHIT CHIV CHIZ CHOC CHOG CHON CHOP CHOU CHOW CHUB CHUG CHUM CHUR CHUT CIAO CIDE CIDS CIEL CIGS CILL CINE CION CIRE CIRL CIST CITE CITO CITS CITY CIVE CLAD CLAG CLAM CLAN CLAP CLAT CLAW CLAY CLEF CLEG CLEM CLEW CLIP CLIT CLOD CLOG CLON CLOP CLOT CLOU CLOW CLOY CLUB CLUE COAL COAT COAX COBB COBS COCA COCH COCK COCO CODA CODE CODS COED COFF COFT COGS COHO COIF COIL COIN COIR COIT COKE COKY COLA COLD COLE COLL COLS COLT COLY COMA COMB COME COMM COMP COMS COND CONE CONF CONI CONK CONN CONS CONY COOF COOK COOL COOM COON COOP COOS COOT COPE COPS COPY CORD CORE CORF CORK CORM CORN CORS CORY COSE COSH COSS COST COSY COTE COTH COTS COTT COUP COUR COVE COWK COWL COWP COWS COWY COXA COXY COYS COZE COZY CRAB CRAG CRAM CRAN CRAP CRAW CRAY CRED CREE CREM CREW CRIA CRIB CRIM CRIS CRIT CROC CROG CROP CROW CRUD CRUE CRUS CRUX CUBE CUBS CUDS CUED CUES CUFF CUIF CUIT CUKE CULL CULM CULT CUMS CUNT CUPS CURB CURD CURE CURF CURL CURN CURR CURS CURT CUSH CUSK CUSP CUSS CUTE CUTS CWMS CYAN CYMA CYME CYST CYTE CZAR
DAAL DABS DACE DACK DADA DADO DADS DAES DAFF DAFT DAGO DAGS DAHL DAHS DAIS DAKS DALE DALI DALS DALT DAME DAMN DAMP DAMS DANG DANK DANS DANT DAPS DARB DARE DARG DARI DARK DARN DART DASH DATA DATE DATO DAUB DAUD DAUR DAUT DAVY DAWD DAWK DAWN DAWS DAWT DAYS DAZE DEAD DEAF DEAL DEAN DEAR DEAW DEBE DEBS DEBT DECK DECO DEED DEEK DEEM DEEN DEEP DEER DEES DEET DEEV DEFI DEFO DEFT DEFY DEGS DEGU DEID DEIF DEIL DEKE DELE DELF DELI DELL DELO DELS DELT DEME DEMO DEMY DENE DENI DENS DENT DENY DERE DERM DERN DERO DERV DESI DESK DEUS DEVA DEVS DEWS DEWY DEXY DEYS DHAK DHAL DHOL DHOW DIAL DIBS DICE DICH DICK DICT DIDO DIDY DIEB DIED DIEL DIES DIET DIFF DIFS DIGS DIKA DIKE DILL DIME DIMP DIMS DINE DING DINK DINO DINS DINT DIOL DIPS DIPT DIRE DIRK DIRL DIRT DISA DISC DISH DISK DISS DITA DITE DITS DITT DITZ DIVA DIVE DIVI DIVO DIVS DIXI DIXY DIYA DJIN DOAB DOAT DOBS DOBY DOCK DOCO DOCS DODO DODS DOEK DOEN DOER DOES DOFF DOGE DOGS DOGY DOHS DOIT DOJO DOLE DOLL DOLS DOLT DOME DOMS DOMY DONA DONE DONG DONS DOOB DOOK DOOL DOOM DOON DOOR DOOS DOPA DOPE DOPS DOPY DORB DORE DORK DORM DORP DORR DORS DORT DORY DOSE DOSH DOSS DOST DOTE DOTH DOTS DOTY DOUC DOUK DOUM DOUN DOUP DOUR DOUT DOUX DOVE DOWD DOWF DOWL DOWN DOWP DOWS DOWT DOXY DOYS DOZE DOZY DRAB DRAC DRAD DRAG DRAM DRAP DRAT DRAW DRAY DREE DREG DREK DREW DREY DRIB DRIP DROP DROW DRUB DRUG DRUM DRYS DSOS DUAD DUAL DUAN DUAR DUBS DUCE DUCI DUCK DUCT DUDE DUDS DUED DUEL DUES DUET DUFF DUGS DUIT DUKA DUKE DULE DULL DULY DUMA DUMB DUMP DUNE DUNG DUNK DUNS DUNT DUOS DUPE DUPS DURA DURE DURN DURO DURR DUSH DUSK DUST DUTY DWAM DYAD DYED DYER DYES DYKE DYNE DZHO DZOS
EACH EALE EANS EARD EARL EARN EARS EASE EAST EASY EATH EATS EAUS EAUX EAVE EBBS EBON ECAD ECCE ECCO ECHE ECHO ECHT ECOD ECOS ECRU ECUS EDDO EDDY EDGE EDGY EDHS EDIT EECH EELS EELY EERY EEVN EFFS EFTS EGAD EGAL EGER EGGS EGGY EGIS EGMA EGOS EHED EIDE EIKS EILD EINA EINE EISH EKED EKES EKKA ELAN ELDS ELFS ELHI ELKS ELLS ELMS ELMY ELSE ELTS EMES EMEU EMIC EMIR EMIT EMMA EMMY EMOS EMPT EMUS EMYD EMYS ENDS ENES ENEW ENGS ENOL ENOW ENUF ENVY EOAN EONS EORL EPEE EPHA EPIC EPOS ERAS ERED ERES EREV ERGO ERGS ERHU ERIC ERKS ERNE ERNS EROS ERRS ERST ERUV ESES ESKY ESNE ESPY ESSE ESTS ETAS ETAT ETCH ETEN ETHE ETHS ETIC ETNA ETUI EUGE EUGH EUKS EUOI EURO EVEN EVER EVES EVET EVIL EVOE EVOS EWER EWES EWKS EWTS EXAM EXEC EXED EXES EXIT EXON EXPO EXUL EYAS EYED EYEN EYER EYES EYNE EYOT EYRA EYRE EYRY
FAAN FAAS FABS FACE FACT FADE FADO FADS FADY FAFF FAGS FAHS FAIK FAIL FAIN FAIR FAIX FAKE FALL FALX FAME FAND FANE FANG FANK FANO FANS FARD FARE FARL FARM FARO FARS FART FASH FAST FATE FATS FAUN FAUR FAUT FAUX FAVA FAVE FAWN FAWS FAYS FAZE FEAL FEAR FEAT FECK FEDS FEEB FEED FEEL FEEN FEER FEES FEET FEGS FEHM FEHS FEIS FELL FELT FEME FEMS FEND FENI FENS FENT FEOD FERE FERM FERN FESS FEST FETA FETE FETS FETT FEUD FEUS FEWS FEYS FIAR FIAT FIBS FICE FICO FIDO FIDS FIEF FIER FIFE FIGO FIGS FIKE FIKY FILA FILE FILL FILM FILO FILS FIND FINE FINI FINK FINO FINS FIQH FIRE FIRK FIRM FIRN FIRS FISC FISH FISK FIST FITS FITT FIVE FIXT FIZZ FLAB FLAG FLAK FLAM FLAN FLAP FLAT FLAW FLAX FLAY FLEA FLED FLEE FLEG FLEW FLEX FLEY FLIC FLIM FLIP FLIR FLIT FLIX FLOB FLOC FLOE FLOG FLOP FLOR FLOW FLOX FLUB FLUE FLUS FLUX FOAL FOAM FOBS FOCI FOEN FOES FOGS FOGY FOHN FOID FOIL FOIN FOLD FOLK FOND FONE FONS FONT FOOD FOOL FOOT FOPS FORA FORB FORD FORE FORK FORM FORT FOSS FOUD FOUL FOUR FOUS FOWL FOXY FOYS FOZY FRAB FRAE FRAG FRAP FRAS FRAT FRAU FRAY FREE FRET FRIB FRIG FRIS FRIT FRIZ FROE FROG FROM FROS FROW FRUG FUBS FUCI FUCK FUDS FUEL FUFF FUGS FUGU FUJI FULL FUME FUMS FUMY FUND FUNG FUNK FUNS FURL FURR FURS FURY FUSC FUSE FUSS FUST FUTZ FUZE FUZZ FYCE FYKE FYLE FYRD
GABS GABY GADE GADI GADS GAED GAEN GAES GAFF GAGA GAGE GAGS GAID GAIN GAIR GAIT GAJO GAKS GALA GALE GALL GALS GAMA GAMB GAME GAMP GAMS GAMY GANE GANG GANS GANT GAOL GAPE GAPO GAPS GAPY GARB GARE GARI GARS GART GASH GASP GAST GATE GATH GATS GAUD GAUM GAUN GAUP GAUR GAUS GAVE GAWD GAWK GAWP GAWS GAYS GAZE GAZY GEAL GEAN GEAR GEAT GECK GEDS GEED GEEK GEEP GEES GEEZ GEIT GELD GELS GELT GEMS GENA GENE GENS GENT GENU GEOS GERE GERM GERS GERT GEST GETA GETS GEUM GHAT GHEE GHIS GIBE GIBS GIDS GIED GIEN GIES GIFT GIGA GIGS GILA GILD GILL GILT GIMP GING GINK GINN GINS GIOS GIPS GIRD GIRL GIRN GIRO GIRR GIRT GISM GIST GITE GITS GIVE GIZZ GJUS GLAD GLAM GLED GLEE GLEG GLEI GLEN GLEY GLIA GLIB GLID GLIM GLIT GLOB GLOM GLOP GLOW GLUE GLUG GLUM GLUT GNAR GNAT GNAW GNOW GNUS GOAD GOAF GOAL GOAS GOAT GOBI GOBO GOBS GOBY GODS GOEL GOER GOES GOEY GOFF GOGO GOJI GOLD GOLE GOLF GOLP GONE GONG GONK GONS GOOD GOOF GOOG GOOK GOOL GOON GOOP GOOR GOOS GORA GORE GORI GORM GORP GORY GOSH GOSS GOTH GOUK GOUT GOVS GOWD GOWF GOWK GOWL GOWN GOYS GRAB GRAD GRAM GRAN GRAT GRAV GRAY GREE GREN GREW GREX GREY GRID GRIG GRIM GRIN GRIP GRIS GRIT GROG GROK GROT GROW GRRL GRUB GRUE GRUM GUAN GUAR GUBS GUCK GUDE GUES GUFF GUGA GUID GULA GULE GULF GULL GULP GULS GULY GUMP GUMS GUNG GUNK GUNS GUPS GURL GURN GURS GURU GUSH GUST GUTS GUVS GUYS GYAL GYBE GYMP GYMS GYNY GYPS GYRE GYRI GYRO GYTE GYVE
HAAF HAAR HABU HACK HADE HADJ HADS HAED HAEM HAEN HAES HAET HAFF HAFT HAGG HAGS HAHA HAHS HAIK HAIL HAIN HAIR HAJI HAJJ HAKA HAKE HAKU HALE HALF HALL HALM HALO HALT HAME HAMS HAND HANG HANK HANT HAOS HAPS HAPU HARD HARE HARK HARL HARM HARN HARO HARP HART HASH HASK HASP HASS HAST HATE HATH HATS HAUD HAUF HAUL HAUT HAVE HAWK HAWM HAWS HAYS HAZE HAZY HEAD HEAL HEAP HEAR HEAT HEBE HECH HECK HEED HEEL HEFT HEHS HEID HEIL HEIR HELD HELE HELL HELM HELO HELP HEME HEMP HEMS HEND HENS HENT HEPS HEPT HERB HERD HERE HERL HERM HERN HERO HERS HERY HESP HEST HETE HETH HETS HEWN HEWS HEYS HICK HIDE HIED HIES HIGH HIKE HILA HILD HILI HILL HILT HIMS HIND HING HINS HINT HIOI HIPS HIPT HIRE HISH HISN HISS HIST HITS HIVE HIYA HIZZ HOAR HOAS HOAX HOBO HOBS HOCK HODS HOED HOER HOES HOGG HOGH HOGS HOHA HOHS HOIK HOKA HOKE HOKI HOLD HOLE HOLK HOLM HOLP HOLS HOLT HOLY HOMA HOME HOMO HOMS HOMY HOND HONE HONG HONK HONS HOOD HOOF HOOK HOON HOOP HOOR HOOT HOPE HOPS HORA HORE HORI HORN HORS HOSE HOSS HOST HOTE HOTS HOUF HOUR HOUT HOVE HOWE HOWF HOWK HOWL HOWS HOYA HOYS HUBS HUCK HUED HUER HUES HUFF HUGE HUGS HUGY HUHU HUIA HUIC HUIS HULA HULE HULK HULL HUMA HUMF HUMP HUMS HUNG HUNH HUNK HUNS HUNT HUPS HURL HURT HUSH HUSK HUSO HUSS HUTS HWAN HWYL HYED HYEN HYES HYKE HYLA HYLE HYMN HYPE HYPO HYPS HYTE
IAMB IBEX IBIS ICED ICER ICES ICHS ICKY ICON IDEA IDEE IDEM IDES IDLE IDLY IDOL IDYL IFFY IGAD IGGS IGLU IKAN IKAT IKON ILEA ILEX ILIA ILKA ILKS ILLS ILLY IMAM IMID IMMY IMPI IMPS INBY INCH INFO INGO INGS INIA INKS INKY INLY INNS INRO INTI INTO IONS IOTA IRED IRES IRID IRIS IRKS IRON ISBA ISIT ISLE ISMS ISNA ISOS ITAS ITCH ITEM IURE IWIS IXIA IZAR
JAAP JABS JACK JADE JAFA JAGA JAGG JAGS JAIL JAKE JAKS JAMB JAMS JANE JANN JAPE JAPS JARK JARL JARP JARS JASP JASS JASY JATO JAUK JAUP JAVA JAWS JAXY JAYS JAZY JAZZ JEAN JEAT JEDI JEED JEEL JEEP JEER JEES JEEZ JEFE JEFF JEHU JELL JEON JERK JESS JEST JETE JETS JEUX JEWS JIAO JIBB JIBE JIBS JIFF JIGS JILL JILT JIMP JINK JINN JINS JINX JIRD JISM JIVE JIVY JIZZ JOBE JOBS JOCK JOCO JOES JOEY JOGS JOHN JOIN JOKE JOKY JOLE JOLL JOLS JOLT JOMO JONG JOOK JORS JOSH JOSS JOTA JOTS JOUK JOUR JOWL JOWS JOYS JUBA JUBE JUCO JUDO JUDS JUDY JUGA JUGS JUJU JUKE JUKU JUMP JUNK JUPE JURA JURE JURY JUST JUTE JUTS JUVE JYNX
KAAL KAAS KABS KACK KADE KADI KAED KAES KAFS KAGO KAGU KAID KAIE KAIF KAIK KAIL KAIM KAIN KAIS KAKA KAKI KAKS KALE KALI KAMA KAME KAMI KANA KANE KANG KANS KANT KAON KAPA KAPH KARA KARK KARN KARO KART KATA KATI KATS KAVA KAWA KAWS KAYO KAYS KAZI KBAR KEAS KEBS KECK KEDS KEEF KEEK KEEL KEEN KEEP KEET KEFS KEGS KEIR KEKS KELL KELP KELT KEMB KEMP KENO KENS KENT KEPI KEPS KEPT KERB KERF KERN KERO KESH KEST KETA KETE KETO KETS KEWL KEYS KHAF KHAN KHAT KHET KHIS KHOR KHUD KIBE KICK KIDS KIEF KIER KIEV KIFF KIFS KIKE KILD KILL KILN KILO KILP KILT KINA KIND KINE KING KINK KINO KINS KIPE KIPP KIPS KIRK KIRN KIRS KISH KISS KIST KITE KITH KITS KIVA KIWI KLAP KLIK KNAG KNAP KNAR KNEE KNEW KNIT KNOB KNOP KNOT KNOW KNUB KNUR KNUT KOAN KOAP KOAS KOBO KOBS KOEL KOFF KOHA KOHL KOIS KOJI KOKA KOLA KOLO KOND KONK KONS KOOK KOPH KOPS KORA KORE KORO KORS KORU KOSS KOTO KOWS KRAB KRIS KSAR KUDO KUDU KUEH KUES KUFI KUIA KUKU KULA KUNA KUNE KURI KURU KUTA KUTI KUTU KUZU KVAS KYAK KYAR KYAT KYBO KYES KYLE KYND KYNE KYPE KYTE KYUS
LABS LACE LACK LACS LACY LADE LADS LADY LAER LAGS LAHS LAIC LAID LAIK LAIN LAIR LAKE LAKH LAKY LALL LAMA LAMB LAME LAMP LAMS LANA LAND LANE LANG LANK LANT LANX LAPS LARD LARE LARI LARK LARN LARS LASE LASH LASS LAST LATE LATH LATI LATS LATU LAUD LAUF LAVA LAVE LAVS LAWK LAWN LAWS LAYS LAZE LAZO LAZY LEAD LEAF LEAK LEAL LEAM LEAN LEAP LEAR LEAS LEAT LECH LEED LEEK LEEP LEER LEES LEET LEFT LEGS LEHR LEIR LEIS LEKE LEKS LEKU LEME LEND LENG LENO LENS LENT LEPS LEPT LERE LERP LESS LEST LETS LEUD LEVA LEVE LEVO LEVY LEWD LEYS LEZZ LIAR LIAS LIBS LICE LICH LICK LIDO LIDS LIED LIEF LIEN LIER LIES LIEU LIFE LIFT LIGS LIKE LILL LILO LILT LILY LIMA LIMB LIME LIMN LIMO LIMP LIMY LIND LINE LING LINK LINN LINO LINS LINT LINY LION LIPA LIPE LIPO LIPS LIRA LIRE LIRI LIRK LISK LISP LIST LITE LITH LITS LITU LIVE LOAD LOAF LOAM LOAN LOBE LOBI LOBO LOBS LOCA LOCH LOCI LOCK LOCO LODE LODS LOFT LOGE LOGO LOGS LOGY LOID LOIN LOIR LOKE LOLL LOMA LOME LONE LONG LOOF LOOK LOOM LOON LOOP LOOR LOOS LOOT LOPE LOPS LORD LORE LORN LORY LOSE LOSH LOSS LOST LOTA LOTE LOTH LOTI LOTO LOTS LOUD LOUN LOUP LOUR LOUS LOUT LOVE LOWE LOWN LOWP LOWS LOWT LOYS LUAU LUBE LUCE LUCK LUDE LUDO LUDS LUES LUFF LUGE LUGS LUIT LUKE LULL LULU LUMA LUMP LUMS LUNA LUNE LUNG LUNK LUNT LUNY LURE LURK LURS LUSH LUSK LUST LUTE LUTZ LUVS LUXE LWEI LYAM LYCH LYES LYME LYMS LYNE LYNX LYRA LYRE LYSE LYTE
MAAR MAAS MABE MACE MACH MACK MACS MADE MADS MAES MAGE MAGG MAGI MAGS MAHA MAID MAIK MAIL MAIM MAIN MAIR MAKE MAKI MAKO MAKS MALA MALE MALI MALL MALM MALS MALT MAMA MAMS MANA MAND MANE MANG MANI MANO MANS MANY MAPS MARA MARC MARD MARE MARG MARK MARL MARM MARS MART MARY MASA MASE MASH MASK MASS MAST MASU MATE MATH MATS MATT MATY MAUD MAUL MAUN MAUT MAWK MAWN MAWR MAWS MAXI MAYA MAYO MAYS MAZE MAZY MEAD MEAL MEAN MEAT MECK MEDS MEED MEEK MEER MEES MEET MEFF MEGA MEGS MEIN MELA MELD MELL MELS MELT MEME MEMO MEMS MEND MENE MENG MENO MENT MENU MEOU MEOW MERC MERE MERI MERK MERL MESA MESE MESH MESS META METE METH METS MEUS MEVE MEWL MEWS MEZE MEZZ MHOS MIBS MICA MICE MICH MICK MICO MICS MIDI MIDS MIEN MIFF MIGG MIGS MIHA MIHI MIKE MILD MILE MILF MILK MILL MILO MILS MILT MIME MINA MIND MINE MING MINI MINK MINO MINT MINX MINY MIPS MIRE MIRI MIRK MIRO MIRS MIRV MIRY MISE MISO MISS MIST MITE MITT MITY MIXT MIXY MIZZ MNAS MOAI MOAN MOAS MOAT MOBE MOBS MOBY MOCH MOCK MOCS MODE MODI MODS MOER MOES MOFO MOGS MOHR MOIL MOIT MOJO MOKE MOKI MOKO MOLA MOLD MOLE MOLL MOLS MOLT MOLY MOME MOMI MOMS MONA MONG MONK MONO MONS MONY MOOD MOOI MOOK MOOL MOON MOOP MOOR MOOS MOOT MOPE MOPS MOPY MORA MORE MORN MORS MORT MOSE MOSH MOSK MOSS MOST MOTE MOTH MOTI MOTS MOTT MOTU MOUE MOUP MOUS MOVE MOWA MOWN MOWS MOXA MOYA MOYL MOYS MOZE MOZO MOZZ MUCH MUCK MUDS MUFF MUGG MUGS MUID MUIL MUIR MULE MULL MUMM MUMP MUMS MUMU MUNG MUNI MUNS MUNT MUON MURA MURE MURK MURL MURR MUSE MUSH MUSK MUSO MUSS MUST MUTE MUTI MUTS MUTT MUZZ MWAH MYAL MYCS MYNA MYTH MYXO MZEE
NAAM NAAN NABE NABK NABS NACH NADA NADS NAFF NAGA NAGS NAIF NAIK NAIL NAIN NALA NAME NAMS NAMU NANA NANE NANG NANS NAOI NAOS NAPA NAPE NAPS NARC NARD NARE NARK NARY NATS NAVE NAVY NAYS NAZE NAZI NEAL NEAP NEAR NEAT NEBS NECK NEDS NEED NEEM NEEP NEFS NEGS NEIF NEKS NEMA NEMN NENE NEON NEPS NERD NERK NESH NESS NEST NETE NETS NETT NEUK NEUM NEVE NEVI NEWS NEWT NEXT NGAI NIBS NICE NICK NIDE NIDI NIDS NIED NIEF NIES NIFE NIFF NIGH NILL NILS NIMB NIMS NINE NIPA NIPS NIRL NISH NISI NITE NITS NIXE NIXY NOAH NOBS NOCK NODE NODI NODS NOEL NOES NOGG NOGS NOIL NOIR NOLE NOLL NOLO NOMA NOME NOMS NONA NONE NONG NONI NOOB NOOK NOON NOOP NOPE NORI NORK NORM NOSE NOSH NOSY NOTA NOTE NOTT NOUL NOUN NOUP NOUS NOUT NOVA NOWL NOWN NOWS NOWT NOWY NOYS NUBS NUDE NUFF NUKE NULL NUMB NUNS NURD NURL NURR NURS NUTS NYAS NYED NYES
OAFS OAKS OAKY OARS OARY OAST OATH OATS OATY OBAS OBES OBEY OBIA OBIS OBIT OBOE OBOL OBOS OCAS OCCY OCHE OCTA ODAH ODAL ODAS ODDS ODEA ODES ODIC ODOR ODSO ODYL OFAY OFFS OFFY OGAM OGEE OGLE OGRE OHED OHIA OHMS OIKS OILS OILY OINK OINT OKAS OKAY OKEH OKES OKRA OKTA OLDE OLDS OLDY OLEA OLEO OLES OLID OLIO OLLA OLMS OLPE OMBU OMEN OMER OMIT OMOV ONCE ONER ONES ONIE ONLY ONOS ONST ONTO ONUS ONYX OOFS OOFY OOHS OOMS OONS OONT OOPS OOSE OOSY OOTS OOZE OOZY OPAH OPAL OPED OPEN OPES OPPO OPTS OPUS ORAD ORAL ORBS ORBY ORCA ORCS ORDO ORDS ORES ORFE ORFS ORGY ORLE ORRA ORTS ORYX ORZO OSAR OSES OSSA OTIC OTTO OUCH OUDS OUKS OULD OULK OUMA OUPA OUPH OUPS OURN OURS OUST OUTS OUZO OVAL OVEL OVEN OVER OVUM OWED OWER OWES OWLS OWLY OWNS OWRE OWSE OWTS OXEN OXER OXES OXID OXIM OYER OYES OYEZ PAAL
PAAN PACA PACE PACK PACO PACS PACT PACY PADI PADS PAGE PAHS PAID PAIK PAIL PAIN PAIR PAIS PALE PALL PALM PALP PALS PALY PAMS PAND PANE PANG PANS PANT PAPA PAPE PAPS PARA PARD PARE PARK PARP PARR PARS PART PASE PASH PASS PAST PATE PATH PATS PATU PATY PAUA PAUL PAVE PAVS PAWA PAWK PAWL PAWN PAWS PAYS PEAG PEAK PEAL PEAN PEAR PEAS PEAT PEBA PECH PECK PECS PEDS PEED PEEK PEEL PEEN PEEP PEER PEES PEGH PEGS PEHS PEIN PEKE PELA PELE PELF PELL PELS PELT PEND PENE PENI PENK PENS PENT PEON PEPO PEPS PERE PERI PERK PERM PERN PERP PERT PERV PESO PEST PETS PEWS PFFT PFUI PHAT PHEW PHIS PHIZ PHOH PHON PHOS PHOT PHUT PIAL PIAN PIAS PICA PICE PICK PICS PIED PIER PIES PIET PIGS PIKA PIKE PIKI PILA PILE PILI PILL PILY PIMA PIMP PINA PINE PING PINK PINS PINT PINY PION PIOY PIPA PIPE PIPI PIPS PIPY PIRL PIRN PIRS PISE PISH PISO PISS PITA PITH PITS PITY PIUM PIXY PIZE PLAN PLAP PLAT PLAY PLEA PLEB PLED PLEW PLEX PLIE PLIM PLOD PLOP PLOT PLOW PLOY PLUE PLUG PLUM PLUS POAS POCK POCO PODS POEM POEP POET POGO POGY POIS POKE POKY POLE POLK POLL POLO POLS POLT POLY POME POMO POMP POMS POND PONE PONG PONK PONS PONT PONY POOD POOF POOH POOK POOL POON POOP POOR POOS POOT POPE POPS PORE PORK PORN PORT PORY POSE POSH POSS POST POSY POTE POTS POTT POUF POUK POUR POUT POWN POWS POXY POZZ PRAD PRAM PRAO PRAT PRAU PRAY PREE PREM PREP PREX PREY PREZ PRIG PRIM PROA PROB PROD PROF PROG PROM PROO PROP PROS PROW PRUH PRYS PSIS PSST PTUI PUBE PUBS PUCE PUCK PUDS PUDU PUER PUFF PUGH PUGS PUHA PUIR PUJA PUKA PUKE PUKU PUKY PULA PULE PULI PULK PULL PULP PULS PULU PULY PUMA PUMP PUMY PUNA PUNG PUNK PUNS PUNT PUNY PUPA PUPS PUPU PURE PURI PURL PURR PURS PUSH PUSS PUTS PUTT PUTZ PUYS PYAS PYAT PYES PYET PYIC PYIN PYNE PYOT PYRE PYRO QADI
QAID QATS QINS QOPH QUAD QUAG QUAI QUAT QUAY QUEP QUEY QUID QUIM QUIN QUIP QUIT QUIZ QUOD QUOP
RABI RACA RACE RACH RACK RACY RADE RADS RAFF RAFT RAGA RAGE RAGG RAGI RAGS RAGU RAHS RAIA RAID RAIK RAIL RAIN RAIS RAIT RAJA RAKE RAKI RAKU RALE RAMI RAMP RAMS RANA RAND RANG RANI RANK RANT RAPE RAPS RAPT RARE RARK RASE RASH RASP RAST RATA RATE RATH RATO RATS RATU RAUN RAVE RAVS RAWN RAWS RAYA RAYS RAZE RAZZ READ REAK REAL REAM REAN REAP REAR REBS RECK RECS REDD REDE REDO REDS REED REEF REEK REEL REEN REES REFS REFT REGO REGS REHS REIF REIK REIN REIS REKE RELY REMS REND RENK RENS RENT RENY REOS REPO REPP REPS RESH REST RETE RETS REVS REWS RHEA RHOS RHUS RIAD RIAL RIAS RIBA RIBS RICE RICH RICK RICY RIDE RIDS RIEL RIEM RIFE RIFF RIFS RIFT RIGG RIGS RILE RILL RIMA RIME RIMS RIMU RIMY RIND RINE RING RINK RINS RIOT RIPE RIPP RIPS RIPT RISE RISK RISP RITE RITS RITT RITZ RIVA RIVE RIVO RIZA ROAD ROAM ROAN ROAR ROBE ROBS ROCH ROCK ROCS RODE RODS ROED ROES ROIL ROIN ROJI ROKE ROKS ROKY ROLE ROLF ROLL ROMA ROMP ROMS RONE RONG RONT RONZ ROOD ROOF ROOK ROOM ROON ROOP ROOS ROOT ROPE ROPY RORE RORT RORY ROSE ROST ROSY ROTA ROTE ROTI ROTL ROTO ROTS ROUE ROUL ROUM ROUP ROUT ROUX ROVE ROWS ROWT RUBE RUBS RUBY RUCK RUCS RUDD RUDE RUDS RUED RUER RUES RUFF RUGA RUGS RUIN RUKH RULE RULY RUME RUMP RUMS RUND RUNE RUNG RUNS RUNT RURP RURU RUSA RUSE RUSH RUSK RUST RUTH RUTS RYAL RYAS RYES RYFE RYKE RYND RYOT RYPE
SAAG SABE SABS SACK SACS SADE SADI SADO SADS SAFE SAFT SAGA SAGE SAGO SAGS SAGY SAIC SAID SAIL SAIM SAIN SAIR SAIS SAKE SAKI SALE SALL SALP SALS SALT SAMA SAME SAMP SAMS SAND SANE SANG SANK SANS SANT SAPS SARD SARI SARK SARS SASH SASS SATE SATI SAUL SAUT SAVE SAVS SAWN SAWS SAXE SAYS SCAB SCAD SCAG SCAM SCAN SCAR SCAT SCAW SCOG SCOP SCOT SCOW SCRY SCUD SCUG SCUL SCUM SCUP SCUR SCUT SCYE SEAL SEAM SEAN SEAR SEAS SEAT SECH SECO SECS SECT SEED SEEK SEEL SEEM SEEN SEEP SEER SEES SEGO SEGS SEIF SEIK SEIL SEIR SEIS SEKT SELD SELE SELF SELL SELS SEME SEMI SENA SEND SENE SENS SENT SEPS SEPT SERA SERE SERF SERK SERR SERS SESE SESH SESS SETA SETS SETT SEWN SEWS SEXT SEXY SEYS SHAD SHAG SHAH SHAM SHAN SHAT SHAW SHAY SHEA SHED SHES SHET SHEW SHIM SHIN SHIP SHIR SHIT SHIV SHMO SHOD SHOE SHOG SHOO SHOP SHOT SHOW SHRI SHUL SHUN SHUT SHWA SIAL SIBB SIBS SICE SICH SICK SICS SIDA SIDE SIDH SIEN SIES SIFT SIGH SIGN SIJO SIKA SIKE SILD SILE SILK SILL SILO SILT SIMA SIMI SIMP SIMS SIND SINE SING SINH SINK SINS SIPE SIPS SIRE SIRI SIRS SISS SIST SITE SITH SITS SITZ SIZE SIZY SJOE SKAG SKAS SKAT SKAW SKEE SKEG SKEN SKEO SKEP SKER SKET SKEW SKID SKIM SKIN SKIO SKIP SKIS SKIT SKOL SKRY SKUA SKUG SKYF SKYR SLAB SLAE SLAG SLAM SLAP SLAT SLAW SLAY SLEB SLED SLEE SLEW SLEY SLID SLIM SLIP SLIT SLOB SLOE SLOG SLOP SLOT SLOW SLUB SLUE SLUG SLUM SLUR SLUT SMEE SMEW SMIR SMIT SMOG SMUG SMUR SMUT SNAB SNAG SNAP SNAR SNAW SNEB SNED SNEE SNIB SNIG SNIP SNIT SNOB SNOD SNOG SNOT SNOW SNUB SNUG SNYE SOAK SOAP SOAR SOBA SOBS SOCA SOCK SOCS SODA SODS SOFA SOFT SOGS SOHO SOHS SOIL SOJA SOKE SOLA SOLD SOLE SOLI SOLO SOLS SOMA SOME SOMS SOMY SONE SONG SONS SOOK SOOL SOOM SOON SOOP SOOT SOPH SOPS SORA SORB SORD SORE SORI SORN SORT SOSS SOTH SOTS SOUK SOUL SOUM SOUP SOUR SOUS SOUT SOVS SOWF SOWL SOWM SOWN SOWP SOWS SOYA SOYS SPAE SPAG SPAM SPAN SPAR SPAS SPAT SPAW SPAY SPAZ SPEC SPED SPEK SPET SPEW SPIC SPIE SPIF SPIK SPIM SPIN SPIT SPIV SPOD SPOT SPRY SPUD SPUE SPUG SPUN SPUR SRIS STAB STAG STAP STAR STAT STAW STAY STED STEM STEN STEP STET STEW STEY STIE STIM STIR STOA STOB STOP STOT STOW STUB STUD STUM STUN STYE SUBA SUBS SUCH SUCK SUDD SUDS SUED SUER SUES SUET SUGH SUGO SUGS SUID SUIT SUKH SUKS SULK SULU SUMO SUMP SUMS SUMY SUNG SUNI SUNK SUNN SUNS SUPE SUPS SUQS SURA SURD SURE SURF SUSS SUSU SWAB SWAD SWAG SWAM SWAN SWAP SWAT SWAY SWEE SWEY SWIG SWIM SWIZ SWOB SWOP SWOT SWUM SYBO SYCE SYED SYEN SYES SYKE SYLI SYNC SYND SYNE SYPE SYPH
TAAL TABI TABS TABU TACE TACH TACK TACO TACT TADS TAED TAEL TAES TAGS TAHA TAHR TAIG TAIL TAIN TAIS TAIT TAKA TAKE TAKI TAKS TAKY TALA TALC TALE TALI TALK TALL TAME TAMP TAMS TANA TANE TANG TANH TANK TANS TAOS TAPA TAPE TAPS TAPU TARA TARE TARN TARO TARP TARS TART TASH TASK TASS TATE TATH TATS TATT TATU TAUS TAUT TAVA TAVS TAWA TAWS TAWT TAXA TAXI TAYS TEAD TEAK TEAL TEAM TEAR TEAS TEAT TECH TECS TEDS TEDY TEED TEEK TEEL TEEM TEEN TEER TEES TEFF TEFS TEGG TEGS TEGU TEHR TEIL TEIN TELA TELD TELE TELL TELS TELT TEME TEMP TEMS TEND TENE TENS TENT TEPA TERF TERM TERN TEST TETE TETH TETS TEWS TEXT THAE THAN THAR THAT THAW THEE THEM THEN THEW THEY THIG THIN THIO THIR THIS THON THOU THRO THRU THUD THUG THUS TIAN TIAR TICE TICH TICK TICS TIDE TIDS TIDY TIED TIER TIES TIFF TIFT TIGE TIGS TIKA TIKE TIKI TIKS TILE TILL TILS TILT TIME TINA TIND TINE TING TINK TINS TINT TINY TIPI TIPS TIPT TIRE TIRL TIRO TIRR TITE TITI TITS TIVY TIZZ TOAD TOBY TOCK TOCO TOCS TODS TODY TOEA TOED TOES TOEY TOFF TOFT TOFU TOGA TOGE TOGS TOHO TOIL TOIT TOKE TOKO TOLA TOLD TOLE TOLL TOLT TOLU TOMB TOME TOMO TOMS TONE TONG TONK TONS TONY TOOK TOOL TOOM TOON TOOT TOPE TOPH TOPI TOPO TOPS TORA TORC TORE TORI TORN TORO TORR TORS TORT TORY TOSA TOSE TOSH TOSS TOST TOTE TOTS TOUK TOUN TOUR TOUT TOWN TOWS TOWT TOWY TOYO TOYS TOZE TRAD TRAM TRAP TRAT TRAY TREE TREF TREK TRES TRET TREW TREY TREZ TRIE TRIG TRIM TRIN TRIO TRIP TROD TROG TRON TROP TROT TROW TROY TRUE TRUG TRYE TRYP TSAR TSKS TUAN TUBA TUBE TUBS TUCK TUFA TUFF TUFT TUGS TUIS TULE TUMP TUMS TUNA TUND TUNE TUNG TUNS TUNY TUPS TURD TURF TURK TURM TURN TUSH TUSK TUTS TUTU TUZZ TWAE TWAL TWAS TWAT TWAY TWEE TWIG TWIN TWIT TWOS TYDE TYED TYEE TYER TYES TYGS TYIN TYKE TYMP TYND TYNE TYPE TYPO TYPP TYPY TYRE TYRO TYTE TZAR
UDAL UDON UDOS UEYS UFOS UGHS UGLY UKES ULAN ULES ULEX ULNA ULUS ULVA UMBO UMMA UMPH UMPS UMPY UMRA UMUS UNAI UNAU UNBE UNCE UNCI UNCO UNDE UNDO UNDY UNIS UNIT UNTO UPAS UPBY UPDO UPGO UPON UPSY UPTA URAO URBS URDE URDS URDY UREA URES URGE URIC URNS URPS URSA URUS URVA USED USER USES UTAS UTES UTIS UTUS UVAE UVAS UVEA
VACS VADE VAES VAGI VAGS VAIL VAIN VAIR VALE VALI VAMP VANE VANG VANS VANT VARA VARE VARS VARY VASA VASE VAST VATS VATU VAUS VAUT VAVS VAWS VEAL VEEP VEER VEES VEGA VEGO VEHM VEIL VEIN VELA VELD VELE VELL VENA VEND VENT VERA VERB VERD VERS VERT VERY VEST VETO VETS VEXT VIAE VIAL VIAS VIBE VIBS VICE VIDE VIDS VIED VIER VIES VIEW VIGA VIGS VILD VILE VILL VIMS VINA VINE VINO VINS VINT VINY VIOL VIRE VIRL VISA VISE VITA VITE VIVA VIVE VIVO VIZY VLEI VLOG VOAR VOES VOID VOIP VOLA VOLE VOLK VOLS VOLT VORS VOTE VOWS VRIL VROT VROU VROW VUGG VUGH VUGS VULN VUMS
WAAC WABS WACK WADD WADE WADI WADS WADT WADY WAES WAFF WAFT WAGE WAGS WAID WAIF WAIL WAIN WAIR WAIS WAIT WAKA WAKE WAKF WALD WALE WALI WALK WALL WALY WAME WAND WANE WANG WANK WANS WANT WANY WAPS WAQF WARB WARD WARE WARK WARM WARN WARP WARS WART WARY WASE WASH WASP WAST WATE WATS WATT WAUK WAUL WAUR WAVE WAVY WAWA WAWE WAWL WAWS WAXY WAYS WEAK WEAL WEAN WEAR WEBS WEDS WEED WEEK WEEL WEEM WEEN WEEP WEER WEES WEET WEFT WEID WEIL WEIR WEKA WELD WELK WELL WELS WELT WEMB WEMS WENA WEND WENS WENT WEPT WERE WERO WERT WEST WETA WETS WEXE WEYS WHAE WHAM WHAP WHAT WHEE WHEN WHET WHEW WHEY WHID WHIG WHIM WHIN WHIO WHIP WHIR WHIT WHIZ WHOA WHOM WHOP WHOT WHOW WHUP WHYS WICE WICH WICK WIDE WIEL WIFE WIGS WIKI WILD WILE WILI WILL WILT WILY WIMP WIND WINE WING WINK WINN WINO WINS WINY WIPE WIRE WIRY WISE WISH WISP WISS WIST WITE WITH WITS WIVE WOAD WOCK WOES WOFS WOGS WOKE WOKS WOLD WOLF WOMB WONK WONS WONT WOOD WOOF WOOL WOON WOOS WOOT WOPS WORD WORE WORK WORM WORN WORT WOST WOTS WOVE WOWF WOWS WRAP WREN WRIT WUDS WUDU WULL WUSS WYCH WYES WYLE WYND WYNN WYNS WYTE
XRAY XYST
YAAR YABA YACK YADS YAFF YAGI YAGS YAHS YAKS YALD YALE YAMS YANG YANK YAPP YAPS YARD YARE YARK YARN YARR YATE YAUD YAUP YAWL YAWN YAWP YAWS YAWY YAYS YBET YEAD YEAH YEAN YEAR YEAS YEBO YECH YEDE YEED YEGG YELD YELK YELL YELM YELP YELT YENS YEPS YERD YERK YESK YEST YETI YETT YEUK YEVE YEWS YGOE YIDS YIKE YILL YINS YIPE YIPS YIRD YIRK YIRR YITE YLEM YLKE YMPE YMPT YOBS YOCK YODE YODH YODS YOGA YOGH YOGI YOKE YOKS YOLD YOLK YOMP YOND YONI YONT YOOF YOOP YORE YORK YORP YOUK YOUR YOUS YOWE YOWL YOWS YUAN YUCA YUCH YUCK YUFT YUGA YUGS YUKE YUKO YUKS YUKY YULE YUMP YUNX YUPS YURT YUTZ YUZU YWIS
ZACK ZAGS ZANY ZAPS ZARF ZARI ZATI ZEAL ZEAS ZEBU ZEDS ZEES ZEIN ZEKS ZELS ZEPS ZERK ZERO ZEST ZETA ZEZE ZHOS ZIFF ZIGS ZILA ZILL ZIMB ZINC ZINE ZING ZINS ZIPS ZITE ZITI ZITS ZIZZ ZOBO ZOBU ZOEA ZOIC ZOLS ZONA ZONE ZONK ZOOM ZOON ZOOS ZOOT ZORI ZOUK ZULU ZUPA ZURF ZYGA ZYME ZZZS
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2020.06.25 21:44 Percybhowal Each time my daughter wails, there's a death in the family. Recently, she wailed my name, and I'm terrified.

Nothing warms a father’s heart more than listening to the melody of his child’s laughter. I am no exception to the rule. Vanessa’s gullible, sweet-little smile is the most valued possession in my otherwise miserable life. Her happiness is like a drug to my ever-craving soul- she could go on giggling at one of my stupid dad-jokes for hours uninterrupted. She could be laughing like crazy to one of those “pull my finger” jokes she would see on a TV show. She could be secretly smirking at her mother’s funny pronunciation of the word “potahto” while her mother dejectedly sighed, “yes, real funny, Ness. Now be done with your dinner quick!”. She could be smiling endlessly- but I can never have enough of her happiness.
I cannot afford for my daughter to not be happy-never! Not just because I love her more than any father can ever love his child. Because I know the kinds of things she can unwittingly do when she’s sad. I am aware of the terrible things that can happen if my Ness starts crying. I do not look forward to hearing the sound of my daughter bawl- and I especially don’t look forward to hearing her pause midway between her tears, when she’d meet my gaze and coldly deliver the painful blow right to my paper-thin heart.
“I’m sorry, father.”
I certainly did not look forward to her saying that.
Like every other time it had happened in the past, I had no idea what had caused her eyes to well. For all I knew, she should’ve done anything but cried! I had just shown her the Coraline movie she had kept bugging me about for weeks. We had had dinner at her favorite fast-food place- burgers and French fries, if that qualifies for dinner in your book. And at the end of our father-girl night out, I had allowed her two scoops of her favorite honey-berry ice-cream instead of the usual one. “Gee, thanks, Daddy!” she had proudly beamed at me. God, how much did I cherish that strawberry smile of hers?
Everything was all hugs and smiles until I tucked her in bed. She had no reason to cry- we even read a chapter of The Diary of a Wimpy Kid book she so enjoyed! But then right when I shut the door of her room and started to head off towards mine, I heard her crying. Or wailing, if we’re going for the more technical term.
My heart froze. No, no, no- this shouldn’t be happening, I thought to myself. But it did happen, and the least I could do was take some of the grim-reaper responsibility that the situation demanded from me. Sighing, I opened the door.
And there she was- my darling Vanessa in her “wailing-state”, for the lack of a better word. No, wait, there is one- what was it called again? - ah, right. Banshee. My dear Vanessa, her form completely overwhelmed by the terrible curse that surrounded her. The jet-black hat of her short-cropped-hair now replaced by long-reaching, platinum-blonde locks. She had discarded her PJs, and was wearing a dull-white robe now. But the detail that credits the most attention was what my Banshee child was doing.
She was wailing. Sitting at the edge of her bed, her face away from mine, hands cupped over her face as she poured her teary-eyed pain into her cupped palms. The sounds of her wails loud enough to repel any stray animal that lived nearby.
“It’s okay, baby. I’m here. Who is it this time?”
My daughter paused. She turned around her head slowly as her now-bloodshot eyes faced mine.
Who will it be this time, I thought to myself? Paul, the cat Irene had bought her a few months back? Maternal-uncle Sam, who’s down to the final stretch of his year-and-a-half-long battle against leukemia? Her great Gramma Maureen? Full respect to the iron lady- but at 93-years of age, she had to have had it coming sooner rather than later, right?
“I’m sorry, father.”
My heart dropped.
“Father? That’s me, sweety! Are you sure, Vanessa?”
“Sure about what, Daddy?”
And just like that, she was gone. Banshee Ness’ job was done; I could only assume she was back in whatever spirit-realm she had come from. Staring at me now, was my black-haired, blue-eyed, sans-wailing baby-girl, Vanessa, sitting at her bed in her pajamas.
“Why am I awake, Daddy? I thought you had sung me off to sleep.”
“Huh?” Oh, right, the poor child had no recollection whatsoever of everything that had happened. “Ah, it was nothing, sweety. You just had a bad dream.” I intended to keep her unaware.
“Really? Huh. I don’t remember having any dreams. Hmm…hey, maybe I’m lucid dreaming?” she shrugged her shoulders at me.
“Maybe, sweetheart.” I smiled. “If you are having a lucid dream, you don’t want it to end so fast, right?”
“Right. Well, sweet dreams, other Daddy!” She was influenced by every film she watched, and remained in that character’s phase at least until a week. I shouldn’t have shown her that movie.
Then again, I didn’t have much time left to take annoyance to her new-found phase.
“Right, dear. Sweet dreams, honey” I shut the door as I braced myself for the real-life nightmare that awaited me.
***
Morgan Fletcher. 1982-2020. Died aged 42. Ghostwriter. Part-time English Teacher at the Tracington High. Loving Father. Douchebag ex-Husband, I’m sure Irene, my ex-wife would love to add to that description. Rests in Peace here.
Just the very thought of my obituary sent a wave of bile up my throat.
My head went back to the first encounter I had had with her- my daughter’s ‘wailing-form’. One fine weekend, we had been watching Tom and Jerry on our couch when I first heard her let out that ear-piercing cry. “I’m sorry, Gramps,” she had said back then. Of course, at the time, I was more worried about the physical-appearance side of things than trying to decipher the true meaning behind my daughter’s weird apology. And when she had recovered, she had no recollection whatsoever of anything that had happened. I had tried to pry her, but that only seemed to make her more upset, so I gave it a rest.
Irene had called me two days later to inform that Liam, her perfectly-healthy, 77-year-old father, had succumbed to a heart attack on the previous night. I wasn’t sure what to make of the eerie coincidence, but I knew that breaking out Vanessa’s wailing story to her would only complicate matters with my already-complicated ex-wife. I did my own research. That’s how I came across the term- Banshee, a running curse in Irish-origin families, where a certain-condition-satisfying-born first-girl-child is gifted with the divine powers of being a harbinger to a family member’s imminent demise.
So, yeah. Apparently, my darling-girl was just suffering from some grim-reaper-esque family curse. Nothing to be particularly worried about, right? I mean, it’s not like she’s the one causing the deaths herself.
Of course, it’s an entirely different story when you’re on the other side of it. I hadn’t realized that until now.
Prior to this, I had had five encounters with Banshee Vanessa. The spirit had never been hostile or otherworldly-savage towards me- she simply performed the job that her curse obligated to do, and once that was done, I’d have my daughter back. A job that, unfortunately, she was rather good at- up until this point, her strike-rate was a perfect five-on-five. Four of her five wailings had been for people from Irene’s side of the family- there was her father Liam, one of her aunts (diabetes), a distant cousin (ATV-accident), and the most recent and the most tragic instance of a nine-year-old niece (the poor child had drowned in a river). As surprising as it might sound, but this was actually the first time she had wailed for someone from my side of her family. Not too surprising- my folks had both died before Vanessa was born- and they were pretty much the only family I had. Except Ness, obviously.
Another family that I soon was going to lose. At least within the next twenty-four hours, if the past-records meant anything. That’s another observation I’d come up with- each of the people whose name Vanessa wailed in, had met their fate within approximately the time-span of the next day.
Technically, I could be an exception. I was, after all, the first paternal family-member she had wailed for. Maybe, just maybe- things could be different for me. I didn’t get my hopes too high, though. Her fifth successful wailing had been for Chester, our dear old Dalmatian. The greedy, old son of a bitch had poisoned himself in an unfortunate attempt at rummaging through a box full of dark chocolates. I still remember how depressed Vanessa was in his wake.
If only she knew…
Her predictions had worked for an entity even beyond the literal blood-relations. What were my odds?
Stupid as it might sound; but I spent the first half-hour of the rest of my life trying to actually figure out those said odds. Post those mathematical failures (obviously), another hour went wasted as I drank myself off to Lana del Rey’s Born to Die vinyl backgrounds. Midway through the title track’s bridge, I started weeping. My miserable, 42-year-old life flashed right before my eyes. So many plans, so many unfinished businesses I had.
No, I couldn’t just let it end like this. So I compiled a bucket list for the last, 24-ish-hours of my life. I’d end my existence on my own terms. At least as much as I could.
Crossing the first item of the list was, somehow, the easiest, and yet the most difficult task. The next morning, I drove over to Irene’s to drop Vanessa.
I know, Geez, Morgan, what was all that loving father rant in the beginning about if you’re not gonna spend the dying moments of your life with your darling daughter?
Believe me- it really was a tough call to make, but think about it; do any of you really want your child to be around when you know you’re about to die? I’m not talking death from some terminal illness, no- but the kind of death, that, just, strikes you randomly and ends your life even before you have a clue as to what just happened? You want your 10-year-old daughter to go through that kind of trauma?
I sound awfully insensitive. I’m sorry. I don’t mean to come off as this ignorant jerk who’s oblivious to the sufferings of others around him- because I am not that kind of a person. It’s just that, talking about all those painful emotions… I think it unearths a really unfeeling side of my character.
I gave Ness a long-timed hug before letting her go. She cast a confused glance in my direction. “Gee, Daddy, you know that I’ll be here just for this one weekend, right? You look really emotional!”.
My darling girl. She did not deserve to suffer. And I wouldn’t let her suffer, not financially, at least. Back in our house, I had already pinned a copy of my realtered will that granted Ness all of my wealth. Wasn’t all that much, but I wanted to ensure that she had some minimum financial-support to achieve her life goals.
“You know Morgan, it wouldn’t kill you to make a call in advance if you’ve got these unexpected visits planned.” Even in my-near death-state, it was foolish of me to expect any sort of empathy from Irene.
I sighed. No, Morgan. Don’t be a spiteful prick in the final moments of life. I pulled in Irene for an awkward hug- decidedly more awkward for her than it was for me. “Take good care of our Vanessa, Irene. Be the best mother to her.”
“Get off your Ganja smokes, Morgan. Honestly, what have you- yeah, honey? Don’t worry, it’s my ex-husband. I’ll be right back.” She had a guest. A male one, if I had to guess. Why didn’t that surprise me?
“Gotta go.” She slammed the door plumb on my face. I’m way too good at goodbyes, I sang to myself.
Item number one on the list. Check.
Item number two went much more smoothly. A first-ever, roller-coaster ride. Judge me all that you want, but that’s how uninteresting my life had been. Up until this ride, at least; a ride where I pissed off just about every co-passenger with my shrill and reckless screaming. And as a cherry on this already embarrassing sundae- the moment my joyride reached its end, I threw up all-over my crisp, white shirt.
I couldn’t help but grin at the grossed-out looks on my co-passenger’s faces. I don’t care if it’s disgusting, people! I thought to myself. Guess what? I’m dying, it doesn’t bother me if my throw-up makes you retch. I’m just thankful that my hernia didn’t act up on this wacky ride. YOLO!
The whole thing with the throw-up was a godsend, because it just made the third item on my list more fun- getting a makeover! I walked into the mall wearing just a cut-sleeved sweater over my upper body. More gawks and murmurings from the people. Oh, how much I enjoyed every bit of the attention!
I left the store dressed in a tacky, pinstriped, double-breasted, hideous lime-green suit which had set me back by a thousand dollars. My five-year-old beard and mustache were discarded; leaving my chiseled jawline exposed to the cold, November air. I had swapped my glasses, too- gone, were those broad-rimmed matte-black frames that made me look like a dork. These cat-eyed, cherry-red rimmed ones looked so much better.
Daddy? I could hear Ness squeak as she tried to hide her laughter. You look like Willy Wonka, minus the top hat!
Gay Willy Wonka, that is, Irene added. Seek help, Morgan.
I could only smile at their imaginary, innocuous taunts. Morgan Fletcher was already dead to me. This man here, living the final moments of his life- he was Tonto.
“Tonto Gonzales. But my friends call me Bubba.” I introduced myself on the karaoke stage. And then my pathetic, baritone, obviously not-meant-for-singing-voice totally butchered Wham!’s Careless Whisper. It felt kinda bad to make a mess of such an amazing song- I felt somewhat guilty when a gay couple flicked a couple of particularly nasty stares in my direction. I’m sorry, George Michael and Andrew Ridgeley. RIP.
Then again, I’d soon be joining them. It’s only fair that I got the chance to cross the last item off my list.
I’d have liked to breathe my final-breath back in the confines of my cozy home, but I was too hammered to drive. Even if I could, I had just given away my Prius and its keys to some hobo (What can I say? In my drunken stupor, I had totally bought into all those phonies, charity-before-you-meet-Jesus propagandas), so I didn’t have the means to head back there.
Take an Uber, I hear you say? Well… I knew that I was gonna die. It wouldn’t look good on my conscience to wittingly get some innocent, harmless cabby involved with the cops, post-mortem, insurance, yada yada yada. So no, pass.
Instead, like some estranged, inebriated fool, I kept exhausting the final-reserves of my finances on booze. Anytime the barkeep would try to stop, I’d tip him with a big, 100$ bill. The other customers kept shooting pitiful glances in my direction. But I was already past the point of humility. Because I had just added a new point to my list- Die on my own terms.
And so I would do, literally. How?
Simple. I would kill myself off alcohol poisoning.
My vision had already started to blur when he took the seat next to me on the counter. And the moment he did, I knew my end was near. Up until this point, I had tried to pass up his apparent omnipresence as mere co-incidence. Back in Irene’s driveway when I was reversing my Prius. Back in the roller-coaster, sitting right behind me. Back at the hairdresser’s, hidden behind a copy of Entertainment Weekly as his black eyes peered straight into my soul.
And here he was now. His black-leather-gloved hands busily tapping on the wooden-counter. His enticing, jet-black eyes meeting those of the barkeep.
Fate had finally found me.
And his voice was all I heard.
“I think I’ll have a glass of water. H2O,” he added, nonchalantly. He turned in my direction. Lips curled in a handsome smile. “How about you, pal?”
That I’d get what I deserve.
“Umm…ah, what the hell, why not? I’ll have H2O, too.”
The barkeep instantly hit me with a half-filled glass of the transparent fluid. I chugged it down in one gulp.
And then everything went dark.
***
Oh, I believe, in yesterday…
The static-sound of Paul McCartney’s vocals stirred me. I was riding shotgun in a car. He, was driving.
“Just in time, mate. You don’t wanna miss the talk.”
Out of all the fucked-up things that had been happening until now, this was the one that irked me the most- why was Death talking in an Australian dialect?
Not that I’d mention that to him, of course. Not unless I wished to be reincarnated as some insignificant, microorganism-esque being.
“Come now. It’s gonna be one helluva ride if Macca’s the only one that keeps talking. So, any regrets?”
There’s a shadow hanging over me…
“Umm. Yes. I do have a few regrets. I couldn’t finish reading Gone Girl.”
“Hmm. Yeah, that’s a bummer. Lucky for you, we’ve got a whole library full of books lined-up here. You can read all the books that you want to.”
“Really?”
“Oh, yes, we’ve got that. While we’re at it, why don’t I also look at getting your old high-school job back? “
Now I long for yesterday…
“You’re screwing with me.”
“The least I can do after you screwed with me. I spent two whole hours waiting at that dingy library, you know. So much for Read. Don’t die a fool. You can’t just cross out items like that, mate.”
Suddenly, I’m not half the man I used to be…
It had happened right after I disembarked off the coaster. Come on, Morgan. Don’t pass on your final moments being some nerd, book-reader, I had convinced myself. Go have some fun!
And fun I had had, at the expense of another item on my list. Read. Don’t die a fool.
“I wimped out. In those dying moments of life, I wanted to shed off my true identity. I was tired of living the nerdy, good, well-read, intellectual man life. I wanted to breathe my last breath as this- “, I gestured to my comical attire. “This whacky, crazy, life-of-the-party kind of guy.”
“Life of the party”, Death scoffed. “Sure, why not, if your party is one infested with Oompa Loompas?”.
I chuckled. It was good to have some closure before I passed on to whatever other realm awaited me.
“It’s all good, though. Long as you had fun. No regrets. Right?”
Ping! I could feel my head buzz as it began loading the images from my day. A scornful-stare from an old, hag of a woman as I got off that roller-coaster in my vomit-covered state. Some ill-mannered brat about my Vanessa’s age; a look of amusement plastered on his face as he gawked at my stupid, lime-green jacket. The gay-couple from the bar, their eyes rolling as I walked off the stage after my careless demolition. The barkeep, a sly grin on her face as I slipped her an umpteenth hundred-dollar bill.
Pity. Disgust. Ridicule. That’s how Morgan/ Tonto would go down.
Now it looks as though they’re here to stay…
“I wish I could say that. But in the process of reinventing myself, I ended up doing something I didn’t want to. I made a complete fool of myself! I’m an idiot. That’s it- all my life, I’ve tried to overcompensate, trying to be this big, ruminative philosopher. In reality, I’m just a big, fat, phony who has no idea about what he should actually be doing!”
That H2O2- thing I’d drank at the bar must have been causing me to loosen up. I had never been this open about my flaws and shortcomings. Until now.
Or maybe that’s just the kind of aura Death has. I didn’t find out.
“Hmm. Well, you hold on to that thought. Anything else you’d like to add?”
Now I need a place to hide away…
“Vanessa. I have been damn irresponsible to my baby. I deprived her of the truth. At a time when I should’ve been the best father to my child, I avoided her.”
“You had your reasons.”
“Maybe. But she deserves the truth. Not from her mother, or some friend she calls for a random sleepover- but from her father, the man who loves her the most. I had a big responsibility, breaking such an important secret out to her. And I just… abandoned her. Dear Lord- what have I done to my baby, Death?”
“Ah well. Fretting won’t do any good now. You’ll just kill yourself that way.”
That one called for a duh stare. I obliged.
“Oh…right. Sorry about that. Well, we’re almost home. Let’s try for one more, shall we?”
“You find this amusing.”
“Depends on how the player’s playing. Don’t flatter yourself, Morgan, you’re doing just average.”
Why she, had to go, I don’t know, she wouldn’t say…
“That’s what she said.”
Death gave me a nasty glance. “What?”
“Irene. The reason we aren’t together anymore. Just left me a voice-mail the morning she left, claiming that she was frustrated with my passiveness. She said she could do better. I always felt like she blamed Vanessa for our…you know, our intimacy issues. I mean, I think that’s unfair- we were having bedtime issues long before she was born. But that’s basically how we had separated- she just told me she wasn’t happy, and we divorced.”
“Hmm. And you don’t feel good about it?”
“I’ll admit that I was a much better single-dad to Vanessa than I was when me and Irene were together. She needs a certain amount of TLC and attention, and I’m not sure if me and Irene could’ve done that if we were married. It’s just that…the thing with Irene, it just happened and I never tried to reconcile, connect, or resolve any of those issues. I don’t know why, but- I can’t help but feel that if I’d had some closure with her, maybe we could’ve dealt with this better, you know. Vanessa, and her…”
“Oh, yeah, I know. But you know what they say, Could’ve, would’ve, should’ve.”
I stayed silent. H2O2 had lost its effect.
“Alright, now. Hold tight. This one’s a particularly lean stretch.” Death slowed down. I could feel his eyes on my face. I turned to face him. He smiled.
I smiled back. And then he cracked into a hysterical cackle.
“What?” I had to ask.
“You’re right, Morgan. You are a fool. A clueless idiot, and a big one at that.”
“Gee. Thanks for the reassurance.”
“Oh, we'll soon see if you’ll be thanking me, trust me. Now giddy up, mate”.
I knew something was amiss here- something really important. But as Death hit the race on his car, the only thing I could process was those final, beautiful verses in Paul McCartney’s reminiscing voice.
Oh, yesterday, came suddenly…
***
I wasn’t sure what to expect when I’d open my eyes. And I wasn’t excited when I saw her. Or rather, heard her.
“Daddy. You’re up.”
My vision started to clear. Heaven, hell- or whatever this god-forsaken realm was called, seemed awfully familiar. As did the face of my child standing right next to me. A cup of straw-ed milkshake in her hands.
“Vanessa? How come you’re here?”
“Mom drove me. She’s here too, but she doesn’t want to meet you while you’re buzzed.”
“Irene’s here? Wait, where am I? This- this is heaven, right?”
Vanessa let out a small giggle. “What’s funny?” I asked.
“You said heaven, like help-when, minus the ‘lp’ sound. But it’s called haven. Like, hay-when. You sound like mom when she says potato.” Another giggle. “Po-taat-to. How does she say that?”
Potato? Heaven? Haven? What was going on?
Even before I could start comprehending any of those things, a searing pain shot up in my head. For a couple of seconds, I thought they were burning the good-memories off my head. But as time went on, and my milkshake-sipping daughter didn’t just disappear right before my eyes, a realization hit me. I knew this pain- wasn’t something I experienced often, but one that I’d had the misfortune of enduring several times in my life.
A pain, that just about every self-loathing mortal my age is somewhat familiar with. The pain, of waking up with a head-splitting hangover.
Vanessa flicked her meek, little eyes in my direction. “Want milk?”
“No, I’m good, sweety. So, this place- we’re home? Like, our home?”
“Yup. Where’s your car, we didn’t see it in the driveway?”
“Hold up, hold up. So, you, and mommy downstairs- you’re real, right?”
“Umm. Yeah. Huh, I think I know why mom didn’t want to- “
“Sweety, what time is it? Like, what date and what time?”
“It’s 7 in the morning, dad. And the date’s- “
My throbbing-head struggled for a solid-minute doing the math. And then it figured.
Exactly two-days since I’d heard Vanessa wail for me.
I had lived. I hadn’t died. Death had spared me.
“Holy fucking mother of God!”
I tried jumping off the bed, only to succumb to the chastising grasp of my headache. I slipped on the floor, just about certainly cracking one of my teeth. Vanessa almost yelped at the sight of my bloodied smile, but I stopped her right in time.
“No, no, Ness, don’t scream! Oh no, you poor bastard- you have any idea how much trouble Daddy has had to go through because of your stupid screams? Come now, help your old-man get off the floor!”
She dragged me against the wall of the bed as I sat with my back arched-straight on the hardwood floor. Once set, I smothered her in a bear-hug.
“Gee Daddy, you seem really happy for a man who doesn’t know where his car is.”
“Shh, shh, Ness, no more talking about the fucking car, or the crap-load of money daddy busted his hump on last night. From now on, you’re just going to listen. Daddy has a lot of things to tell you, honey.
For starters, Daddy wants to say sorry for trying to leave you with that bitch mother of yours. Daddy promises that it’ll never happen again; no matter how bad things look, Daddy’s always gonna be there to solve help you with your problems. And secondly- and listen carefully, this is important- Daddy has a secret to tell you. It’s about a curse you’ve got- don’t worry, baby, I swear to Jesus that it’s not gonna kill you- but it’s time that you know that- “
“Great. Just great parenting, Morgan.” Irene’s condescending voice cut-off our father-daughter moment. “A forty-something drunk dad swearing right into the ears of your 10-year-old daughter. Where exactly do you get off calling me the bad parent?”
Crap. Just when I was about to make things right.
“Go wait downstairs, Ness. I’ll be there soon.” One command from her mother, and she was gone. Irene shut the door.
“Are you out of your fucking mind, Morgan? You have any idea the kind of example you’re setting with your behavior? Drunken stupors, late-night gambling, misplacing your car, cussing right in front of her- do you have any sense at all? And what’s all this I’m hearing about this strange curse and killing? Tell me at once- what the hell’s going on with you, Morgan Gerald Fletcher?”
I sighed. “Give it a rest, Irene, please. It’s nothing- the curse is a father-girl code we have when you visit. And I didn’t gamble last night. Or even misplace my car, for that matter- I gave it away to some homeless guy.”
“You did what?”
“I told you, I- look, let’s not play this the Simon Says way, Irene. My head’s literally exploding. I’ve wasted a ton of money on things that I’m now starting to regret- listen, I’ve had a really tough day, alright? Let’s talk when I’m feeling a bit better.”
My half-foot shorter wife walked right upto my nose, her angry breaths almost leaving a burn on my skin. It’s funny that even after two years of separation, I found her riled-up avatar so adorable. Maybe because it reminds me of my dear Ness. The sky-blue eyes, the jet-black mane of hair, her Lois Griffin-like nose, her cherry-lips- all features that she had inherited from her mother.
Come to think of it- she had just about none of my physical attributes. Her complexion had no iota of color to it, even though I, her father, had a natural tannish complexion. In fact, for a girl her age, Ness was quite short; considering how tall I and Irene (relatively) were.
A burning realization started to pore its way into my heart.
You’re right, Morgan. You are a fool. A clueless idiot, and a big one at that.
No, no- this couldn’t be. Please, don’t be.
Irene stifled back a sob, before she delivered the mind-numbing blow. “You think you’ve had a tough day? YOU THINK YOU HAVE HAD A TOUGH DAY, MORGAN?” she screamed, bringing my heart to a stop. “Then you better listen what happened to me. Toni, my milkman, just dropped dead at my front porch this morning. Just like that, right in front of my eyes!"
The last thing I heard before passing out was that sickening-cackle from Death.
submitted by Percybhowal to DarkTales [link] [comments]


2020.06.25 21:42 Percybhowal Each time my daughter wails, there's a death in the family. Recently, she wailed my name, and I'm terrified.

Nothing warms a father’s heart more than listening to the melody of his child’s laughter. I am no exception to the rule. Vanessa’s gullible, sweet-little smile is the most valued possession in my otherwise miserable life. Her happiness is like a drug to my ever-craving soul- she could go on giggling at one of my stupid dad-jokes for hours uninterrupted. She could be laughing like crazy to one of those “pull my finger” jokes she would see on a TV show. She could be secretly smirking at her mother’s funny pronunciation of the word “potahto” while her mother dejectedly sighed, “yes, real funny, Ness. Now be done with your dinner quick!”. She could be smiling endlessly- but I can never have enough of her happiness.
I cannot afford for my daughter to not be happy-never! Not just because I love her more than any father can ever love his child. Because I know the kinds of things she can unwittingly do when she’s sad. I am aware of the terrible things that can happen if my Ness starts crying. I do not look forward to hearing the sound of my daughter bawl- and I especially don’t look forward to hearing her pause midway between her tears, when she’d meet my gaze and coldly deliver the painful blow right to my paper-thin heart.
“I’m sorry, father.”
I certainly did not look forward to her saying that.
Like every other time it had happened in the past, I had no idea what had caused her eyes to well. For all I knew, she should’ve done anything but cried! I had just shown her the Coraline movie she had kept bugging me about for weeks. We had had dinner at her favorite fast-food place- burgers and French fries, if that qualifies for dinner in your book. And at the end of our father-girl night out, I had allowed her two scoops of her favorite honey-berry ice-cream instead of the usual one. “Gee, thanks, Daddy!” she had proudly beamed at me. God, how much did I cherish that strawberry smile of hers?
Everything was all hugs and smiles until I tucked her in bed. She had no reason to cry- we even read a chapter of The Diary of a Wimpy Kid book she so enjoyed! But then right when I shut the door of her room and started to head off towards mine, I heard her crying. Or wailing, if we’re going for the more technical term.
My heart froze. No, no, no- this shouldn’t be happening, I thought to myself. But it did happen, and the least I could do was take some of the grim-reaper responsibility that the situation demanded from me. Sighing, I opened the door.
And there she was- my darling Vanessa in her “wailing-state”, for the lack of a better word. No, wait, there is one- what was it called again? - ah, right. Banshee. My dear Vanessa, her form completely overwhelmed by the terrible curse that surrounded her. The jet-black hat of her short-cropped-hair now replaced by long-reaching, platinum-blonde locks. She had discarded her PJs, and was wearing a dull-white robe now. But the detail that credits the most attention was what my Banshee child was doing.
She was wailing. Sitting at the edge of her bed, her face away from mine, hands cupped over her face as she poured her teary-eyed pain into her cupped palms. The sounds of her wails loud enough to repel any stray animal that lived nearby.
“It’s okay, baby. I’m here. Who is it this time?”
My daughter paused. She turned around her head slowly as her now-bloodshot eyes faced mine.
Who will it be this time, I thought to myself? Paul, the cat Irene had bought her a few months back? Maternal-uncle Sam, who’s down to the final stretch of his year-and-a-half-long battle against leukemia? Her great Gramma Maureen? Full respect to the iron lady- but at 93-years of age, she had to have had it coming sooner rather than later, right?
“I’m sorry, father.”
My heart dropped.
“Father? That’s me, sweety! Are you sure, Vanessa?”
“Sure about what, Daddy?”
And just like that, she was gone. Banshee Ness’ job was done; I could only assume she was back in whatever spirit-realm she had come from. Staring at me now, was my black-haired, blue-eyed, sans-wailing baby-girl, Vanessa, sitting at her bed in her pajamas.
“Why am I awake, Daddy? I thought you had sung me off to sleep.”
“Huh?” Oh, right, the poor child had no recollection whatsoever of everything that had happened. “Ah, it was nothing, sweety. You just had a bad dream.” I intended to keep her unaware.
“Really? Huh. I don’t remember having any dreams. Hmm…hey, maybe I’m lucid dreaming?” she shrugged her shoulders at me.
“Maybe, sweetheart.” I smiled. “If you are having a lucid dream, you don’t want it to end so fast, right?”
“Right. Well, sweet dreams, other Daddy!” She was influenced by every film she watched, and remained in that character’s phase at least until a week. I shouldn’t have shown her that movie.
Then again, I didn’t have much time left to take annoyance to her new-found phase.
“Right, dear. Sweet dreams, honey” I shut the door as I braced myself for the real-life nightmare that awaited me.
***
Morgan Fletcher. 1978-2020. Died aged 42. Ghostwriter. Part-time English Teacher at the Tracington High. Loving Father. Douchebag ex-Husband, I’m sure Irene, my ex-wife would love to add to that description. Rests in Peace here.
Just the very thought of my obituary sent a wave of bile up my throat.
My head went back to the first encounter I had had with her- my daughter’s ‘wailing-form’. One fine weekend, we had been watching Tom and Jerry on our couch when I first heard her let out that ear-piercing cry. “I’m sorry, Gramps,” she had said back then. Of course, at the time, I was more worried about the physical-appearance side of things than trying to decipher the true meaning behind my daughter’s weird apology. And when she had recovered, she had no recollection whatsoever of anything that had happened. I had tried to pry her, but that only seemed to make her more upset, so I gave it a rest.
Irene had called me two days later to inform that Liam, her perfectly-healthy, 77-year-old father, had succumbed to a heart attack on the previous night. I wasn’t sure what to make of the eerie coincidence, but I knew that breaking out Vanessa’s wailing story to her would only complicate matters with my already-complicated ex-wife. I did my own research. That’s how I came across the term- Banshee, a running curse in Irish-origin families, where a certain-condition-satisfying-born first-girl-child is gifted with the divine powers of being a harbinger to a family member’s imminent demise.
So, yeah. Apparently, my darling-girl was just suffering from some grim-reaper-esque family curse. Nothing to be particularly worried about, right? I mean, it’s not like she’s the one causing the deaths herself.
Of course, it’s an entirely different story when you’re on the other side of it. I hadn’t realized that until now.
Prior to this, I had had five encounters with Banshee Vanessa. The spirit had never been hostile or otherworldly-savage towards me- she simply performed the job that her curse obligated to do, and once that was done, I’d have my daughter back. A job that, unfortunately, she was rather good at- up until this point, her strike-rate was a perfect five-on-five. Four of her five wailings had been for people from Irene’s side of the family- there was her father Liam, one of her aunts (diabetes), a distant cousin (ATV-accident), and the most recent and the most tragic instance of a nine-year-old niece (the poor child had drowned in a river). As surprising as it might sound, but this was actually the first time she had wailed for someone from my side of her family. Not too surprising- my folks had both died before Vanessa was born- and they were pretty much the only family I had. Except Ness, obviously.
Another family that I soon was going to lose. At least within the next twenty-four hours, if the past-records meant anything. That’s another observation I’d come up with- each of the people whose name Vanessa wailed in, had met their fate within approximately the time-span of the next day.
Technically, I could be an exception. I was, after all, the first paternal family-member she had wailed for. Maybe, just maybe- things could be different for me. I didn’t get my hopes too high, though. Her fifth successful wailing had been for Chester, our dear old Dalmatian. The greedy, old son of a bitch had poisoned himself in an unfortunate attempt at rummaging through a box full of dark chocolates. I still remember how depressed Vanessa was in his wake.
If only she knew…
Her predictions had worked for an entity even beyond the literal blood-relations. What were my odds?
Stupid as it might sound; but I spent the first half-hour of the rest of my life trying to actually figure out those said odds. Post those mathematical failures (obviously), another hour went wasted as I drank myself off to Lana del Rey’s Born to Die vinyl backgrounds. Midway through the title track’s bridge, I started weeping. My miserable, 42-year-old life flashed right before my eyes. So many plans, so many unfinished businesses I had.
No, I couldn’t just let it end like this. So I compiled a bucket list for the last, 24-ish-hours of my life. I’d end my existence on my own terms. At least as much as I could.
Crossing the first item of the list was, somehow, the easiest, and yet the most difficult task. The next morning, I drove over to Irene’s to drop Vanessa.
I know, Geez, Morgan, what was all that loving father rant in the beginning about if you’re not gonna spend the dying moments of your life with your darling daughter?
Believe me- it really was a tough call to make, but think about it; do any of you really want your child to be around when you know you’re about to die? I’m not talking death from some terminal illness, no- but the kind of death, that, just, strikes you randomly and ends your life even before you have a clue as to what just happened? You want your 10-year-old daughter to go through that kind of trauma?
I sound awfully insensitive. I’m sorry. I don’t mean to come off as this ignorant jerk who’s oblivious to the sufferings of others around him- because I am not that kind of a person. It’s just that, talking about all those painful emotions… I think it unearths a really unfeeling side of my character.
I gave Ness a long-timed hug before letting her go. She cast a confused glance in my direction. “Gee, Daddy, you know that I’ll be here just for this one weekend, right? You look really emotional!”.
My darling girl. She did not deserve to suffer. And I wouldn’t let her suffer, not financially, at least. Back in our house, I had already pinned a copy of my realtered will that granted Ness all of my wealth. Wasn’t all that much, but I wanted to ensure that she had some minimum financial-support to achieve her life goals.
“You know Morgan, it wouldn’t kill you to make a call in advance if you’ve got these unexpected visits planned.” Even in my-near death-state, it was foolish of me to expect any sort of empathy from Irene.
I sighed. No, Morgan. Don’t be a spiteful prick in the final moments of life. I pulled in Irene for an awkward hug- decidedly more awkward for her than it was for me. “Take good care of our Vanessa, Irene. Be the best mother to her.”
“Get off your Ganja smokes, Morgan. Honestly, what have you- yeah, honey? Don’t worry, it’s my ex-husband. I’ll be right back.” She had a guest. A male one, if I had to guess. Why didn’t that surprise me?
“Gotta go.” She slammed the door plumb on my face. I’m way too good at goodbyes, I sang to myself.
Item number one on the list. Check.
Item number two went much more smoothly. A first-ever, roller-coaster ride. Judge me all that you want, but that’s how uninteresting my life had been. Up until this ride, at least; a ride where I pissed off just about every co-passenger with my shrill and reckless screaming. And as a cherry on this already embarrassing sundae- the moment my joyride reached its end, I threw up all-over my crisp, white shirt.
I couldn’t help but grin at the grossed-out looks on my co-passenger’s faces. I don’t care if it’s disgusting, people! I thought to myself. Guess what? I’m dying, it doesn’t bother me if my throw-up makes you retch. I’m just thankful that my hernia didn’t act up on this wacky ride. YOLO!
The whole thing with the throw-up was a godsend, because it just made the third item on my list more fun- getting a makeover! I walked into the mall wearing just a cut-sleeved sweater over my upper body. More gawks and murmurings from the people. Oh, how much I enjoyed every bit of the attention!
I left the store dressed in a tacky, pinstriped, double-breasted, hideous lime-green suit which had set me back by a thousand dollars. My five-year-old beard and mustache were discarded; leaving my chiseled jawline exposed to the cold, November air. I had swapped my glasses, too- gone, were those broad-rimmed matte-black frames that made me look like a dork. These cat-eyed, cherry-red rimmed ones looked so much better.
Daddy? I could hear Ness squeak as she tried to hide her laughter. You look like Willy Wonka, minus the top hat!
Gay Willy Wonka, that is, Irene added. Seek help, Morgan.
I could only smile at their imaginary, innocuous taunts. Morgan Fletcher was already dead to me. This man here, living the final moments of his life- he was Tonto.
“Tonto Gonzales. But my friends call me Bubba.” I introduced myself on the karaoke stage. And then my pathetic, baritone, obviously not-meant-for-singing-voice totally butchered Wham!’s Careless Whisper. It felt kinda bad to make a mess of such an amazing song- I felt somewhat guilty when a gay couple flicked a couple of particularly nasty stares in my direction. I’m sorry, George Michael and Andrew Ridgeley. RIP.
Then again, I’d soon be joining them. It’s only fair that I got the chance to cross the last item off my list.
I’d have liked to breathe my final-breath back in the confines of my cozy home, but I was too hammered to drive. Even if I could, I had just given away my Prius and its keys to some hobo (What can I say? In my drunken stupor, I had totally bought into all those phonies, charity-before-you-meet-Jesus propagandas), so I didn’t have the means to head back there.
Take an Uber, I hear you say? Well… I knew that I was gonna die. It wouldn’t look good on my conscience to wittingly get some innocent, harmless cabby involved with the cops, post-mortem, insurance, yada yada yada. So no, pass.
Instead, like some estranged, inebriated fool, I kept exhausting the final-reserves of my finances on booze. Anytime the barkeep would try to stop, I’d tip her with a big, 100$ bill. The other customers kept shooting pitiful glances in my direction. But I was already past the point of humility. Because I had just added a new point to my list- Die on my own terms.
And so I would do, literally. How?
Simple. I would kill myself off alcohol poisoning.
My vision had already started to blur when he took the seat next to me on the counter. And the moment he did, I knew my end was near. Up until this point, I had tried to pass up his apparent omnipresence as mere co-incidence. Back in Irene’s driveway when I was reversing my Prius. Back in the roller-coaster, sitting right behind me. Back at the hairdresser’s, hidden behind a copy of Entertainment Weekly as his black eyes peered straight into my soul.
And here he was now. His black-leather-gloved hands busily tapping on the wooden-counter. His enticing, jet-black eyes meeting those of the barkeep.
Fate had finally found me.
And his voice was all I heard.
“I think I’ll have a glass of water. H2O,” he added, nonchalantly. He turned in my direction. Lips curled in a handsome smile. “How about you, pal?”
That I’d get what I deserve.
“Umm…ah, what the hell, why not? I’ll have H2O, too.”
The barkeep instantly hit me with a half-filled glass of the transparent fluid. I chugged it down in one gulp.
And then everything went dark.
***
Oh, I believe, in yesterday…
The static-sound of Paul McCartney’s vocals stirred me. I was riding shotgun in a car. He, was driving.
“Just in time, mate. You don’t wanna miss the talk.”
Out of all the fucked-up things that had been happening until now, this was the one that irked me the most- why was Death talking in an Australian dialect?
Not that I’d mention that to him, of course. Not unless I wished to be reincarnated as some insignificant, microorganism-esque being.
“Come now. It’s gonna be one helluva ride if Macca’s the only one that keeps talking. So, any regrets?”
There’s a shadow hanging over me…
“Umm. Yes. I do have a few regrets. I couldn’t finish reading Gone Girl.”
“Hmm. Yeah, that’s a bummer. Lucky for you, we’ve got a whole library full of books lined-up here. You can read all the books that you want to.”
“Really?”
“Oh, yes, we’ve got that. While we’re at it, why don’t I also look at getting your old high-school job back? “
Now I long for yesterday…
“You’re screwing with me.”
“The least I can do after you screwed with me. I spent two whole hours waiting at that dingy library, you know. So much for Read. Don’t die a fool. You can’t just cross out items like that, mate.”
Suddenly, I’m not half the man I used to be…
It had happened right after I disembarked off the coaster. Come on, Morgan. Don’t pass on your final moments being some nerd, book-reader, I had convinced myself. Go have some fun!
And fun I had had, at the expense of another item on my list. Read. Don’t die a fool.
“I wimped out. In those dying moments of life, I wanted to shed off my true identity. I was tired of living the nerdy, good, well-read, intellectual man life. I wanted to breathe my last breath as this- “, I gestured to my comical attire. “This whacky, crazy, life-of-the-party kind of guy.”
“Life of the party”, Death scoffed. “Sure, why not, if your party is one infested with Oompa Loompas?”.
I chuckled. It was good to have some closure before I passed on to whatever other realm awaited me.
“It’s all good, though. Long as you had fun. No regrets. Right?”
Ping! I could feel my head buzz as it began loading the images from my day. A scornful-stare from an old, hag of a woman as I got off that roller-coaster in my vomit-covered state. Some ill-mannered brat about my Vanessa’s age; a look of amusement plastered on his face as he gawked at my stupid, lime-green jacket. The gay-couple from the bar, their eyes rolling as I walked off the stage after my careless demolition. The barkeep, a sly grin on her face as I slipped her an umpteenth hundred-dollar bill.
Pity. Disgust. Ridicule. That’s how Morgan/ Tonto would go down.
Now it looks as though they’re here to stay…
“I wish I could say that. But in the process of reinventing myself, I ended up doing something I didn’t want to. I made a complete fool of myself! I’m an idiot. That’s it- all my life, I’ve tried to overcompensate, trying to be this big, ruminative philosopher. In reality, I’m just a big, fat, phony who has no idea about what he should actually be doing!”
That H2O2- thing I’d drank at the bar must have been causing me to loosen up. I had never been this open about my flaws and shortcomings. Until now.
Or maybe that’s just the kind of aura Death has. I didn’t find out.
“Hmm. Well, you hold on to that thought. Anything else you’d like to add?”
Now I need a place to hide away…
“Vanessa. I have been damn irresponsible to my baby. I deprived her of the truth. At a time when I should’ve been the best father to my child, I avoided her.”
“You had your reasons.”
“Maybe. But she deserves the truth. Not from her mother, or some friend she calls for a random sleepover- but from her father, the man who loves her the most. I had a big responsibility, breaking such an important secret out to her. And I just… abandoned her. Dear Lord- what have I done to my baby, Death?”
“Ah well. Fretting won’t do any good now. You’ll just kill yourself that way.”
That one called for a duh stare. I obliged.
“Oh…right. Sorry about that. Well, we’re almost home. Let’s try for one more, shall we?”
“You find this amusing.”
“Depends on how the player’s playing. Don’t flatter yourself, Morgan, you’re doing just average.”
Why she, had to go, I don’t know, she wouldn’t say…
“That’s what she said.”
Death gave me a nasty glance. “What?”
“Irene. The reason we aren’t together anymore. Just left me a voice-mail the morning she left, claiming that she was frustrated with my passiveness. She said she could do better. I always felt like she blamed Vanessa for our…you know, our intimacy issues. I mean, I think that’s unfair- we were having bedtime issues long before she was born. But that’s basically how we had separated- she just told me she wasn’t happy, and we divorced.”
“Hmm. And you don’t feel good about it?”
“I’ll admit that I was a much better single-dad to Vanessa than I was when me and Irene were together. She needs a certain amount of TLC and attention, and I’m not sure if me and Irene could’ve done that if we were married. It’s just that…the thing with Irene, it just happened and I never tried to reconcile, connect, or resolve any of those issues. I don’t know why, but- I can’t help but feel that if I’d had some closure with her, maybe we could’ve dealt with this better, you know. Vanessa, and her…”
“Oh, yeah, I know. But you know what they say, Could’ve, would’ve, should’ve.”
I stayed silent. H2O2 had lost its effect.
“Alright, now. Hold tight. This one’s a particularly lean stretch.” Death slowed down. I could feel his eyes on my face. I turned to face him. He smiled.
I smiled back. And then he cracked into a hysterical cackle.
“What?” I had to ask.
“You’re right, Morgan. You are a fool. A clueless idiot, and a big one at that.”
“Gee. Thanks for the reassurance.”
“Oh, we'll soon see if you’ll be thanking me, trust me. Now giddy up, mate”.
I knew something was amiss here- something really important. But as Death hit the race on his car, the only thing I could process was those final, beautiful verses in Paul McCartney’s reminiscing voice.
Oh, yesterday, came suddenly…
***
I wasn’t sure what to expect when I’d open my eyes. And I wasn’t excited when I saw her. Or rather, heard her.
“Daddy. You’re up.”
My vision started to clear. Heaven, hell- or whatever this god-forsaken realm was called, seemed awfully familiar. As did the face of my child standing right next to me. A cup of straw-ed milkshake in her hands.
“Vanessa? How come you’re here?”
“Mom drove me. She’s here too, but she doesn’t want to meet you while you’re buzzed.”
“Irene’s here? Wait, where am I? This- this is heaven, right?”
Vanessa let out a small giggle. “What’s funny?” I asked.
“You said heaven, like help-when, minus the ‘lp’ sound. But it’s called haven. Like, hay-when. You sound like mom when she says potato.” Another giggle. “Po-taat-to. How does she say that?”
Potato? Heaven? Haven? What was going on?
Even before I could start comprehending any of those things, a searing pain shot up in my head. For a couple of seconds, I thought they were burning the good-memories off my head. But as time went on, and my milkshake-sipping daughter didn’t just disappear right before my eyes, a realization hit me. I knew this pain- wasn’t something I experienced often, but one that I’d had the misfortune of enduring several times in my life.
A pain, that just about every self-loathing mortal my age is somewhat familiar with. The pain, of waking up with a head-splitting hangover.
Vanessa flicked her meek, little eyes in my direction. “Want milk?”
“No, I’m good, sweety. So, this place- we’re home? Like, our home?”
“Yup. Where’s your car, we didn’t see it in the driveway?”
“Hold up, hold up. So, you, and mommy downstairs- you’re real, right?”
“Umm. Yeah. Huh, I think I know why mom didn’t want to- “
“Sweety, what time is it? Like, what date and what time?”
“It’s 7 in the morning, dad. And the date’s- “
My throbbing-head struggled for a solid-minute doing the math. And then it figured.
Exactly two-days since I’d heard Vanessa wail for me.
I had lived. I hadn’t died. Death had spared me.
“Holy fucking mother of God!”
I tried jumping off the bed, only to succumb to the chastising grasp of my headache. I slipped on the floor, just about certainly cracking one of my teeth. Vanessa almost yelped at the sight of my bloodied smile, but I stopped her right in time.
“No, no, Ness, don’t scream! Oh no, you poor bastard- you have any idea how much trouble Daddy has had to go through because of your stupid screams? Come now, help your old-man get off the floor!”
She dragged me against the wall of the bed as I sat with my back arched-straight on the hardwood floor. Once set, I smothered her in a bear-hug.
“Gee Daddy, you seem really happy for a man who doesn’t know where his car is.”
“Shh, shh, Ness, no more talking about the fucking car, or the crap-load of money daddy busted his hump on last night. From now on, you’re just going to listen. Daddy has a lot of things to tell you, honey.
For starters, Daddy wants to say sorry for trying to leave you with that bitch mother of yours. Daddy promises that it’ll never happen again; no matter how bad things look, Daddy’s always gonna be there to solve help you with your problems. And secondly- and listen carefully, this is important- Daddy has a secret to tell you. It’s about a curse you’ve got- don’t worry, baby, I swear to Jesus that it’s not gonna kill you- but it’s time that you know that- “
“Great. Just great parenting, Morgan.” Irene’s condescending voice cut-off our father-daughter moment. “A forty-something drunk dad swearing right into the ears of your 10-year-old daughter. Where exactly do you get off calling me the bad parent?”
Crap. Just when I was about to make things right.
“Go wait downstairs, Ness. I’ll be there soon.” One command from her mother, and she was gone. Irene shut the door.
“Are you out of your fucking mind, Morgan? You have any idea the kind of example you’re setting with your behavior? Drunken stupors, late-night gambling, misplacing your car, cussing right in front of her- do you have any sense at all? And what’s all this I’m hearing about this strange curse and killing? Tell me at once- what the hell’s going on with you, Morgan Gerald Fletcher?”
I sighed. “Give it a rest, Irene, please. It’s nothing- the curse is a father-girl code we have when you visit. And I didn’t gamble last night. Or even misplace my car, for that matter- I gave it away to some homeless guy.”
“You did what?”
“I told you, I- look, let’s not play this the Simon Says way, Irene. My head’s literally exploding. I’ve wasted a ton of money on things that I’m now starting to regret- listen, I’ve had a really tough day, alright? Let’s talk when I’m feeling a bit better.”
My half-foot shorter wife walked right upto my nose, her angry breaths almost leaving a burn on my skin. It’s funny that even after two years of separation, I found her riled-up avatar so adorable. Maybe because it reminds me of my dear Ness. The sky-blue eyes, the jet-black mane of hair, her Lois Griffin-like nose, her cherry-lips- all features that she had inherited from her mother.
Come to think of it- she had just about none of my physical attributes. Her complexion had no iota of color to it, even though I, her father, had a natural tannish complexion. In fact, for a girl her age, Ness was quite short; considering how tall I and Irene (relatively) were.
A burning realization started to pore its way into my heart.
You’re right, Morgan. You are a fool. A clueless idiot, and a big one at that.
No, no- this couldn’t be. Please, don’t be.
Irene stifled back a sob, before she delivered the mind-numbing blow. “You think you’ve had a tough day? YOU THINK YOU HAVE HAD A TOUGH DAY, MORGAN?” she screamed, bringing my heart to a stop. “Then you better listen what happened to me. Toni, my milkman, just dropped dead at my front porch this morning. Just like that, right in front of my eyes!"
The last thing I heard before passing out was that sickening-cackle from Death.
submitted by Percybhowal to nosleep [link] [comments]


2020.06.25 21:41 Percybhowal Each time my daughter wails, there's a death in the family. Recently, she wailed my name, and I'm terrified.

Nothing warms a father’s heart more than listening to the melody of his child’s laughter. I am no exception to the rule. Vanessa’s gullible, sweet-little smile is the most valued possession in my otherwise miserable life. Her happiness is like a drug to my ever-craving soul- she could go on giggling at one of my stupid dad-jokes for hours uninterrupted. She could be laughing like crazy to one of those “pull my finger” jokes she would see on a TV show. She could be secretly smirking at her mother’s funny pronunciation of the word “potahto” while her mother dejectedly sighed, “yes, real funny, Ness. Now be done with your dinner quick!”. She could be smiling endlessly- but I can never have enough of her happiness.
I cannot afford for my daughter to not be happy-never! Not just because I love her more than any father can ever love his child. Because I know the kinds of things she can unwittingly do when she’s sad. I am aware of the terrible things that can happen if my Ness starts crying. I do not look forward to hearing the sound of my daughter bawl- and I especially don’t look forward to hearing her pause midway between her tears, when she’d meet my gaze and coldly deliver the painful blow right to my paper-thin heart.
“I’m sorry, father.”
I certainly did not look forward to her saying that.
Like every other time it had happened in the past, I had no idea what had caused her eyes to well. For all I knew, she should’ve done anything but cried! I had just shown her the Coraline movie she had kept bugging me about for weeks. We had had dinner at her favorite fast-food place- burgers and French fries, if that qualifies for dinner in your book. And at the end of our father-girl night out, I had allowed her two scoops of her favorite honey-berry ice-cream instead of the usual one. “Gee, thanks, Daddy!” she had proudly beamed at me. God, how much did I cherish that strawberry smile of hers?
Everything was all hugs and smiles until I tucked her in bed. She had no reason to cry- we even read a chapter of The Diary of a Wimpy Kid book she so enjoyed! But then right when I shut the door of her room and started to head off towards mine, I heard her crying. Or wailing, if we’re going for the more technical term.
My heart froze. No, no, no- this shouldn’t be happening, I thought to myself. But it did happen, and the least I could do was take some of the grim-reaper responsibility that the situation demanded from me. Sighing, I opened the door.
And there she was- my darling Vanessa in her “wailing-state”, for the lack of a better word. No, wait, there is one- what was it called again? - ah, right. Banshee. My dear Vanessa, her form completely overwhelmed by the terrible curse that surrounded her. The jet-black hat of her short-cropped-hair now replaced by long-reaching, platinum-blonde locks. She had discarded her PJs, and was wearing a dull-white robe now. But the detail that credits the most attention was what my Banshee child was doing.
She was wailing. Sitting at the edge of her bed, her face away from mine, hands cupped over her face as she poured her teary-eyed pain into her cupped palms. The sounds of her wails loud enough to repel any stray animal that lived nearby.
“It’s okay, baby. I’m here. Who is it this time?”
My daughter paused. She turned around her head slowly as her now-bloodshot eyes faced mine.
Who will it be this time, I thought to myself? Paul, the cat Irene had bought her a few months back? Maternal-uncle Sam, who’s down to the final stretch of his year-and-a-half-long battle against leukemia? Her great Gramma Maureen? Full respect to the iron lady- but at 93-years of age, she had to have had it coming sooner rather than later, right?
“I’m sorry, father.”
My heart dropped.
“Father? That’s me, sweety! Are you sure, Vanessa?”
“Sure about what, Daddy?”
And just like that, she was gone. Banshee Ness’ job was done; I could only assume she was back in whatever spirit-realm she had come from. Staring at me now, was my black-haired, blue-eyed, sans-wailing baby-girl, Vanessa, sitting at her bed in her pajamas.
“Why am I awake, Daddy? I thought you had sung me off to sleep.”
“Huh?” Oh, right, the poor child had no recollection whatsoever of everything that had happened. “Ah, it was nothing, sweety. You just had a bad dream.” I intended to keep her unaware.
“Really? Huh. I don’t remember having any dreams. Hmm…hey, maybe I’m lucid dreaming?” she shrugged her shoulders at me.
“Maybe, sweetheart.” I smiled. “If you are having a lucid dream, you don’t want it to end so fast, right?”
“Right. Well, sweet dreams, other Daddy!” She was influenced by every film she watched, and remained in that character’s phase at least until a week. I shouldn’t have shown her that movie.
Then again, I didn’t have much time left to take annoyance to her new-found phase.
“Right, dear. Sweet dreams, honey” I shut the door as I braced myself for the real-life nightmare that awaited me.
***
Morgan Fletcher. 1982-2020. Died aged 42. Ghostwriter. Part-time English Teacher at the Tracington High. Loving Father. Douchebag ex-Husband, I’m sure Irene, my ex-wife would love to add to that description. Rests in Peace here.
Just the very thought of my obituary sent a wave of bile up my throat.
My head went back to the first encounter I had had with her- my daughter’s ‘wailing-form’. One fine weekend, we had been watching Tom and Jerry on our couch when I first heard her let out that ear-piercing cry. “I’m sorry, Gramps,” she had said back then. Of course, at the time, I was more worried about the physical-appearance side of things than trying to decipher the true meaning behind my daughter’s weird apology. And when she had recovered, she had no recollection whatsoever of anything that had happened. I had tried to pry her, but that only seemed to make her more upset, so I gave it a rest.
Irene had called me two days later to inform that Liam, her perfectly-healthy, 77-year-old father, had succumbed to a heart attack on the previous night. I wasn’t sure what to make of the eerie coincidence, but I knew that breaking out Vanessa’s wailing story to her would only complicate matters with my already-complicated ex-wife. I did my own research. That’s how I came across the term- Banshee, a running curse in Irish-origin families, where a certain-condition-satisfying-born first-girl-child is gifted with the divine powers of being a harbinger to a family member’s imminent demise.
So, yeah. Apparently, my darling-girl was just suffering from some grim-reaper-esque family curse. Nothing to be particularly worried about, right? I mean, it’s not like she’s the one causing the deaths herself.
Of course, it’s an entirely different story when you’re on the other side of it. I hadn’t realized that until now.
Prior to this, I had had five encounters with Banshee Vanessa. The spirit had never been hostile or otherworldly-savage towards me- she simply performed the job that her curse obligated to do, and once that was done, I’d have my daughter back. A job that, unfortunately, she was rather good at- up until this point, her strike-rate was a perfect five-on-five. Four of her five wailings had been for people from Irene’s side of the family- there was her father Liam, one of her aunts (diabetes), a distant cousin (ATV-accident), and the most recent and the most tragic instance of a nine-year-old niece (the poor child had drowned in a river). As surprising as it might sound, but this was actually the first time she had wailed for someone from my side of her family. Not too surprising- my folks had both died before Vanessa was born- and they were pretty much the only family I had. Except Ness, obviously.
Another family that I soon was going to lose. At least within the next twenty-four hours, if the past-records meant anything. That’s another observation I’d come up with- each of the people whose name Vanessa wailed in, had met their fate within approximately the time-span of the next day.
Technically, I could be an exception. I was, after all, the first paternal family-member she had wailed for. Maybe, just maybe- things could be different for me. I didn’t get my hopes too high, though. Her fifth successful wailing had been for Chester, our dear old Dalmatian. The greedy, old son of a bitch had poisoned himself in an unfortunate attempt at rummaging through a box full of dark chocolates. I still remember how depressed Vanessa was in his wake.
If only she knew…
Her predictions had worked for an entity even beyond the literal blood-relations. What were my odds?
Stupid as it might sound; but I spent the first half-hour of the rest of my life trying to actually figure out those said odds. Post those mathematical failures (obviously), another hour went wasted as I drank myself off to Lana del Rey’s Born to Die vinyl backgrounds. Midway through the title track’s bridge, I started weeping. My miserable, 42-year-old life flashed right before my eyes. So many plans, so many unfinished businesses I had.
No, I couldn’t just let it end like this. So I compiled a bucket list for the last, 24-ish-hours of my life. I’d end my existence on my own terms. At least as much as I could.
Crossing the first item of the list was, somehow, the easiest, and yet the most difficult task. The next morning, I drove over to Irene’s to drop Vanessa.
I know, Geez, Morgan, what was all that loving father rant in the beginning about if you’re not gonna spend the dying moments of your life with your darling daughter?
Believe me- it really was a tough call to make, but think about it; do any of you really want your child to be around when you know you’re about to die? I’m not talking death from some terminal illness, no- but the kind of death, that, just, strikes you randomly and ends your life even before you have a clue as to what just happened? You want your 10-year-old daughter to go through that kind of trauma?
I sound awfully insensitive. I’m sorry. I don’t mean to come off as this ignorant jerk who’s oblivious to the sufferings of others around him- because I am not that kind of a person. It’s just that, talking about all those painful emotions… I think it unearths a really unfeeling side of my character.
I gave Ness a long-timed hug before letting her go. She cast a confused glance in my direction. “Gee, Daddy, you know that I’ll be here just for this one weekend, right? You look really emotional!”.
My darling girl. She did not deserve to suffer. And I wouldn’t let her suffer, not financially, at least. Back in our house, I had already pinned a copy of my realtered will that granted Ness all of my wealth. Wasn’t all that much, but I wanted to ensure that she had some minimum financial-support to achieve her life goals.
“You know Morgan, it wouldn’t kill you to make a call in advance if you’ve got these unexpected visits planned.” Even in my-near death-state, it was foolish of me to expect any sort of empathy from Irene.
I sighed. No, Morgan. Don’t be a spiteful prick in the final moments of life. I pulled in Irene for an awkward hug- decidedly more awkward for her than it was for me. “Take good care of our Vanessa, Irene. Be the best mother to her.”
“Get off your Ganja smokes, Morgan. Honestly, what have you- yeah, honey? Don’t worry, it’s my ex-husband. I’ll be right back.” She had a guest. A male one, if I had to guess. Why didn’t that surprise me?
“Gotta go.” She slammed the door plumb on my face. I’m way too good at goodbyes, I sang to myself.
Item number one on the list. Check.
Item number two went much more smoothly. A first-ever, roller-coaster ride. Judge me all that you want, but that’s how uninteresting my life had been. Up until this ride, at least; a ride where I pissed off just about every co-passenger with my shrill and reckless screaming. And as a cherry on this already embarrassing sundae- the moment my joyride reached its end, I threw up all-over my crisp, white shirt.
I couldn’t help but grin at the grossed-out looks on my co-passenger’s faces. I don’t care if it’s disgusting, people! I thought to myself. Guess what? I’m dying, it doesn’t bother me if my throw-up makes you retch. I’m just thankful that my hernia didn’t act up on this wacky ride. YOLO!
The whole thing with the throw-up was a godsend, because it just made the third item on my list more fun- getting a makeover! I walked into the mall wearing just a cut-sleeved sweater over my upper body. More gawks and murmurings from the people. Oh, how much I enjoyed every bit of the attention!
I left the store dressed in a tacky, pinstriped, double-breasted, hideous lime-green suit which had set me back by a thousand dollars. My five-year-old beard and mustache were discarded; leaving my chiseled jawline exposed to the cold, November air. I had swapped my glasses, too- gone, were those broad-rimmed matte-black frames that made me look like a dork. These cat-eyed, cherry-red rimmed ones looked so much better.
Daddy? I could hear Ness squeak as she tried to hide her laughter. You look like Willy Wonka, minus the top hat!
Gay Willy Wonka, that is, Irene added. Seek help, Morgan.
I could only smile at their imaginary, innocuous taunts. Morgan Fletcher was already dead to me. This man here, living the final moments of his life- he was Tonto.
“Tonto Gonzales. But my friends call me Bubba.” I introduced myself on the karaoke stage. And then my pathetic, baritone, obviously not-meant-for-singing-voice totally butchered Wham!’s Careless Whisper. It felt kinda bad to make a mess of such an amazing song- I felt somewhat guilty when a gay couple flicked a couple of particularly nasty stares in my direction. I’m sorry, George Michael and Andrew Ridgeley. RIP.
Then again, I’d soon be joining them. It’s only fair that I got the chance to cross the last item off my list.
I’d have liked to breathe my final-breath back in the confines of my cozy home, but I was too hammered to drive. Even if I could, I had just given away my Prius and its keys to some hobo (What can I say? In my drunken stupor, I had totally bought into all those phonies, charity-before-you-meet-Jesus propagandas), so I didn’t have the means to head back there.
Take an Uber, I hear you say? Well… I knew that I was gonna die. It wouldn’t look good on my conscience to wittingly get some innocent, harmless cabby involved with the cops, post-mortem, insurance, yada yada yada. So no, pass.
Instead, like some estranged, inebriated fool, I kept exhausting the final-reserves of my finances on booze. Anytime the barkeep would try to stop, I’d tip him with a big, 100$ bill. The other customers kept shooting pitiful glances in my direction. But I was already past the point of humility. Because I had just added a new point to my list- Die on my own terms.
And so I would do, literally. How?
Simple. I would kill myself off alcohol poisoning.
My vision had already started to blur when he took the seat next to me on the counter. And the moment he did, I knew my end was near. Up until this point, I had tried to pass up his apparent omnipresence as mere co-incidence. Back in Irene’s driveway when I was reversing my Prius. Back in the roller-coaster, sitting right behind me. Back at the hairdresser’s, hidden behind a copy of Entertainment Weekly as his black eyes peered straight into my soul.
And here he was now. His black-leather-gloved hands busily tapping on the wooden-counter. His enticing, jet-black eyes meeting those of the barkeep.
Fate had finally found me.
And his voice was all I heard.
“I think I’ll have a glass of water. H2O,” he added, nonchalantly. He turned in my direction. Lips curled in a handsome smile. “How about you, pal?”
That I’d get what I deserve.
“Umm…ah, what the hell, why not? I’ll have H2O, too.”
The barkeep instantly hit me with a half-filled glass of the transparent fluid. I chugged it down in one gulp.
And then everything went dark.
***
Oh, I believe, in yesterday…
The static-sound of Paul McCartney’s vocals stirred me. I was riding shotgun in a car. He, was driving.
“Just in time, mate. You don’t wanna miss the talk.”
Out of all the fucked-up things that had been happening until now, this was the one that irked me the most- why was Death talking in an Australian dialect?
Not that I’d mention that to him, of course. Not unless I wished to be reincarnated as some insignificant, microorganism-esque being.
“Come now. It’s gonna be one helluva ride if Macca’s the only one that keeps talking. So, any regrets?”
There’s a shadow hanging over me…
“Umm. Yes. I do have a few regrets. I couldn’t finish reading Gone Girl.”
“Hmm. Yeah, that’s a bummer. Lucky for you, we’ve got a whole library full of books lined-up here. You can read all the books that you want to.”
“Really?”
“Oh, yes, we’ve got that. While we’re at it, why don’t I also look at getting your old high-school job back? “
Now I long for yesterday…
“You’re screwing with me.”
“The least I can do after you screwed with me. I spent two whole hours waiting at that dingy library, you know. So much for Read. Don’t die a fool. You can’t just cross out items like that, mate.”
Suddenly, I’m not half the man I used to be…
It had happened right after I disembarked off the coaster. Come on, Morgan. Don’t pass on your final moments being some nerd, book-reader, I had convinced myself. Go have some fun!
And fun I had had, at the expense of another item on my list. Read. Don’t die a fool.
“I wimped out. In those dying moments of life, I wanted to shed off my true identity. I was tired of living the nerdy, good, well-read, intellectual man life. I wanted to breathe my last breath as this- “, I gestured to my comical attire. “This whacky, crazy, life-of-the-party kind of guy.”
“Life of the party”, Death scoffed. “Sure, why not, if your party is one infested with Oompa Loompas?”.
I chuckled. It was good to have some closure before I passed on to whatever other realm awaited me.
“It’s all good, though. Long as you had fun. No regrets. Right?”
Ping! I could feel my head buzz as it began loading the images from my day. A scornful-stare from an old, hag of a woman as I got off that roller-coaster in my vomit-covered state. Some ill-mannered brat about my Vanessa’s age; a look of amusement plastered on his face as he gawked at my stupid, lime-green jacket. The gay-couple from the bar, their eyes rolling as I walked off the stage after my careless demolition. The barkeep, a sly grin on her face as I slipped her an umpteenth hundred-dollar bill.
Pity. Disgust. Ridicule. That’s how Morgan/ Tonto would go down.
Now it looks as though they’re here to stay…
“I wish I could say that. But in the process of reinventing myself, I ended up doing something I didn’t want to. I made a complete fool of myself! I’m an idiot. That’s it- all my life, I’ve tried to overcompensate, trying to be this big, ruminative philosopher. In reality, I’m just a big, fat, phony who has no idea about what he should actually be doing!”
That H2O2- thing I’d drank at the bar must have been causing me to loosen up. I had never been this open about my flaws and shortcomings. Until now.
Or maybe that’s just the kind of aura Death has. I didn’t find out.
“Hmm. Well, you hold on to that thought. Anything else you’d like to add?”
Now I need a place to hide away…
“Vanessa. I have been damn irresponsible to my baby. I deprived her of the truth. At a time when I should’ve been the best father to my child, I avoided her.”
“You had your reasons.”
“Maybe. But she deserves the truth. Not from her mother, or some friend she calls for a random sleepover- but from her father, the man who loves her the most. I had a big responsibility, breaking such an important secret out to her. And I just… abandoned her. Dear Lord- what have I done to my baby, Death?”
“Ah well. Fretting won’t do any good now. You’ll just kill yourself that way.”
That one called for a duh stare. I obliged.
“Oh…right. Sorry about that. Well, we’re almost home. Let’s try for one more, shall we?”
“You find this amusing.”
“Depends on how the player’s playing. Don’t flatter yourself, Morgan, you’re doing just average.”
Why she, had to go, I don’t know, she wouldn’t say…
“That’s what she said.”
Death gave me a nasty glance. “What?”
“Irene. The reason we aren’t together anymore. Just left me a voice-mail the morning she left, claiming that she was frustrated with my passiveness. She said she could do better. I always felt like she blamed Vanessa for our…you know, our intimacy issues. I mean, I think that’s unfair- we were having bedtime issues long before she was born. But that’s basically how we had separated- she just told me she wasn’t happy, and we divorced.”
“Hmm. And you don’t feel good about it?”
“I’ll admit that I was a much better single-dad to Vanessa than I was when me and Irene were together. She needs a certain amount of TLC and attention, and I’m not sure if me and Irene could’ve done that if we were married. It’s just that…the thing with Irene, it just happened and I never tried to reconcile, connect, or resolve any of those issues. I don’t know why, but- I can’t help but feel that if I’d had some closure with her, maybe we could’ve dealt with this better, you know. Vanessa, and her…”
“Oh, yeah, I know. But you know what they say, Could’ve, would’ve, should’ve.”
I stayed silent. H2O2 had lost its effect.
“Alright, now. Hold tight. This one’s a particularly lean stretch.” Death slowed down. I could feel his eyes on my face. I turned to face him. He smiled.
I smiled back. And then he cracked into a hysterical cackle.
“What?” I had to ask.
“You’re right, Morgan. You are a fool. A clueless idiot, and a big one at that.”
“Gee. Thanks for the reassurance.”
“Oh, we'll soon see if you’ll be thanking me, trust me. Now giddy up, mate”.
I knew something was amiss here- something really important. But as Death hit the race on his car, the only thing I could process was those final, beautiful verses in Paul McCartney’s reminiscing voice.
Oh, yesterday, came suddenly…
***
I wasn’t sure what to expect when I’d open my eyes. And I wasn’t excited when I saw her. Or rather, heard her.
“Daddy. You’re up.”
My vision started to clear. Heaven, hell- or whatever this god-forsaken realm was called, seemed awfully familiar. As did the face of my child standing right next to me. A cup of straw-ed milkshake in her hands.
“Vanessa? How come you’re here?”
“Mom drove me. She’s here too, but she doesn’t want to meet you while you’re buzzed.”
“Irene’s here? Wait, where am I? This- this is heaven, right?”
Vanessa let out a small giggle. “What’s funny?” I asked.
“You said heaven, like help-when, minus the ‘lp’ sound. But it’s called haven. Like, hay-when. You sound like mom when she says potato.” Another giggle. “Po-taat-to. How does she say that?”
Potato? Heaven? Haven? What was going on?
Even before I could start comprehending any of those things, a searing pain shot up in my head. For a couple of seconds, I thought they were burning the good-memories off my head. But as time went on, and my milkshake-sipping daughter didn’t just disappear right before my eyes, a realization hit me. I knew this pain- wasn’t something I experienced often, but one that I’d had the misfortune of enduring several times in my life.
A pain, that just about every self-loathing mortal my age is somewhat familiar with. The pain, of waking up with a head-splitting hangover.
Vanessa flicked her meek, little eyes in my direction. “Want milk?”
“No, I’m good, sweety. So, this place- we’re home? Like, our home?”
“Yup. Where’s your car, we didn’t see it in the driveway?”
“Hold up, hold up. So, you, and mommy downstairs- you’re real, right?”
“Umm. Yeah. Huh, I think I know why mom didn’t want to- “
“Sweety, what time is it? Like, what date and what time?”
“It’s 7 in the morning, dad. And the date’s- “
My throbbing-head struggled for a solid-minute doing the math. And then it figured.
Exactly two-days since I’d heard Vanessa wail for me.
I had lived. I hadn’t died. Death had spared me.
“Holy fucking mother of God!”
I tried jumping off the bed, only to succumb to the chastising grasp of my headache. I slipped on the floor, just about certainly cracking one of my teeth. Vanessa almost yelped at the sight of my bloodied smile, but I stopped her right in time.
“No, no, Ness, don’t scream! Oh no, you poor bastard- you have any idea how much trouble Daddy has had to go through because of your stupid screams? Come now, help your old-man get off the floor!”
She dragged me against the wall of the bed as I sat with my back arched-straight on the hardwood floor. Once set, I smothered her in a bear-hug.
“Gee Daddy, you seem really happy for a man who doesn’t know where his car is.”
“Shh, shh, Ness, no more talking about the fucking car, or the crap-load of money daddy busted his hump on last night. From now on, you’re just going to listen. Daddy has a lot of things to tell you, honey.
For starters, Daddy wants to say sorry for trying to leave you with that bitch mother of yours. Daddy promises that it’ll never happen again; no matter how bad things look, Daddy’s always gonna be there to solve help you with your problems. And secondly- and listen carefully, this is important- Daddy has a secret to tell you. It’s about a curse you’ve got- don’t worry, baby, I swear to Jesus that it’s not gonna kill you- but it’s time that you know that- “
“Great. Just great parenting, Morgan.” Irene’s condescending voice cut-off our father-daughter moment. “A forty-something drunk dad swearing right into the ears of your 10-year-old daughter. Where exactly do you get off calling me the bad parent?”
Crap. Just when I was about to make things right.
“Go wait downstairs, Ness. I’ll be there soon.” One command from her mother, and she was gone. Irene shut the door.
“Are you out of your fucking mind, Morgan? You have any idea the kind of example you’re setting with your behavior? Drunken stupors, late-night gambling, misplacing your car, cussing right in front of her- do you have any sense at all? And what’s all this I’m hearing about this strange curse and killing? Tell me at once- what the hell’s going on with you, Morgan Gerald Fletcher?”
I sighed. “Give it a rest, Irene, please. It’s nothing- the curse is a father-girl code we have when you visit. And I didn’t gamble last night. Or even misplace my car, for that matter- I gave it away to some homeless guy.”
“You did what?”
“I told you, I- look, let’s not play this the Simon Says way, Irene. My head’s literally exploding. I’ve wasted a ton of money on things that I’m now starting to regret- listen, I’ve had a really tough day, alright? Let’s talk when I’m feeling a bit better.”
My half-foot shorter wife walked right upto my nose, her angry breaths almost leaving a burn on my skin. It’s funny that even after two years of separation, I found her riled-up avatar so adorable. Maybe because it reminds me of my dear Ness. The sky-blue eyes, the jet-black mane of hair, her Lois Griffin-like nose, her cherry-lips- all features that she had inherited from her mother.
Come to think of it- she had just about none of my physical attributes. Her complexion had no iota of color to it, even though I, her father, had a natural tannish complexion. In fact, for a girl her age, Ness was quite short; considering how tall I and Irene (relatively) were.
A burning realization started to pore its way into my heart.
You’re right, Morgan. You are a fool. A clueless idiot, and a big one at that.
No, no- this couldn’t be. Please, don’t be.
Irene stifled back a sob, before she delivered the mind-numbing blow. “You think you’ve had a tough day? YOU THINK YOU HAVE HAD A TOUGH DAY, MORGAN?” she screamed, bringing my heart to a stop. “Then you better listen what happened to me. Toni, my milkman, just dropped dead at my front porch this morning. Just like that, right in front of my eyes!"
The last thing I heard before passing out was that sickening-cackle from Death.
submitted by Percybhowal to Odd_directions [link] [comments]


2020.04.13 22:39 smileonnebornREdux Step-mom and me pt2 if i get enough upvotes.

My name is Greg Jennings and I can't believe what a slut my stepmom Monica can be. She claims dad knows and is okay with it and made me promise not to talk to him about it unless he brings it up.
To give you some background, when my mom Michelle died of cancer two years ago, while I was a junior in high school, dad and I both took it hard. He and mom had been married for 20 years. It was a year before he started dating again. During my senior year of high school, he dated a few women, all in their 40s or early 50s, a few them were very hot, but nothing worked out.
Last fall, while I was away for my freshman year of college dad called to say he found magic. He had started dating someone and within a month had fallen in love. When I came home for semester break he introduced me to Monica and I swear she looks like a blonde-haired Lana Rhoades. I asked dad what was going on, why was he dating someone my age instead of his own age. He said that he met her at a business networking event, they hit it off and started dating. She smiled, joked, was friendly and told me how much her and my dad connected. During the few weeks I was home on break I could hear them fucking down the hall and jacked off wishing it was me pounding her pussy.
A couple of months later, a few days before spring break was set to begin, dad called to say he had proposed and that they were getting married the first weekend in June. I was shocked and asked him why things were moving so fast and he told me he really connected with her and didn't want to waste time. Deep down I had a suspicion that she was just after his money as he was an investment banker and we lived in a large house in the Hollywood Hills, while he was happy to have a hot piece of ass he could show off as a trophy wife. I never heard fucking sounds like they make while mom was alive. I spent an alcohol-filled spring break in Florida (striking out with the girls) wondering what was going on back home. Turns out everything between them was fine. The wedding in June went off well and everyone seemed happy for them.
I stayed home for the summer working a local job. In July, while dad was in New York on a business trip, I came home from work early on a Monday and heard the unmistakable sound of fucking coming from the bedroom. I quietly walked down the hallway and saw the door open. I looked in and was shocked to see a tall dark-haired guy with lots of muscles and tattoos laying on his back as she rode his thick cock while a shorter brown-haired guy with no tattoos was standing behind her fucking her ass. Her tits were freely swinging as she moaned loudly, occasionally shrieking in pleasure telling the guys how good they felt.
"Oh Mikey, that's it, fuck my ass!"
"Jack I'm going to ride you until your cock breaks off"
Instead of shouting out and surprising them I unsnapped my pants and pulled them down a few inches, took out my thick seven-inch cock and started to stroke. It didn't matter she was my stepmom; I was watching an unbelievably hot woman getting some DP. It wasn't long until both guys were groaning they were going to cum.
She quickly stood up, got on her knees on the floor next to them and opened her mouth and stuck out her tongue. The guys stood in front of her beating off until they both came, Mike's shot landing on her tits while Jack shot into her mouth and on her face.
Moments later I shot my load, aiming it into my underwear to prevent any evidence of what I was doing from landing on the floor. I then snuck away back to my room to change.
While I was in my room I heard the shower running and her saying she was surprised the guys were up for round two so quick. I simply beat off again to the sounds of her moaning and shrieking in pleasure. Half an hour later I heard her saying goodbye to the guys.
I didn't say anything to her that night during dinner or after. But checked out her body more than usual as she was wearing Daisy Dukes and a halter top that emphasized her breasts. I did my best to conceal my growing hard-on but she noticed it and smiled at me.
"Is there anything I can do for you?" she asked.
"Nope, I'm good," I said.
She walked over to me, stood behind me, and dragged a hand across my lap and put her face next to mine and repeated the question.
"Are you sure there's nothing your new mom can do for you?" she said while running her fingers gently across my crotch.
"No, I'm kinda tired, long day at work," I said. "I'm going to go hit the hay."
With that I left the room and went to bed. I fell asleep dreaming that I had joined in the scene I witnessed that afternoon.
The next morning when I was in the kitchen finishing breakfast she walked in wearing a sheer pink teddy that gave me an instant hard-on.
"Anything I can do for you or to you?" she asked, flashing those seductive eyes of hers.
"Nope, gotta get to work, can't be late," I said and ran out the door.
Most of the day at work my thoughts were consumed and conflicted. My thoughts ran the gamut from I can't believe someone this hot wants me to can I get away with fucking dad's new wife and should I tell dad about what I saw. Although I'm loyal to dad and don't want to see him get hurt, eventually I hatched a plan to get her in the sack and punish her for cheating.
I was able to leave work early and once again I came home to the sounds of sex. This time I saw her getting DP from two different guys. One was a tall, thin guy with black hair and glasses, the other was an older guy with an average build and some grey streaks in his hair. The older guy was thrusting up into her pussy while the tall guy was pumping her ass.
In the hallway I stripped naked and beat myself until I was hard and my thick seven-inch cock was sticking straight out. Then I walked into the room and got close to them.
"Hi Mom!" I said.
"What the hell?" the guys shouted at the same time.
"Oh my God, Greg, what are you doing here?" Monica shrieked.
"Guys keep fucking her," I said. "I was doing the same thing as yesterday, beating off while watching you in action."
My comment seemed to inspire the guys as they kept right on fucking her.
"You saw me yesterday?" she panted.
"Yes," I said. "But today's going to be different. You are going to blow me while they fuck you or else I tell dad everything."
She took one look at my cock and reached an arm out, wrapping it in a hand and pulled on it.
"Come to mommy," she moaned and slowly lowered her lips and mouth over my entire length.
She cupped my balls as she slowly slid her mouth up the entire length, the head slipping out with a pop. She then started licking my balls while rapidly stroking me with the other hand. She did this for a minute or two before moving a hand back to my balls and running her tongue all around the head, occasionally wrapping her lips around it.
The guys started to groan they were getting close.
"Be back in a minute honey," she said as she let go of my cock.
She climbed off the one she was riding and got on her knees in front of them as they rapidly stroked their cocks.
"Give me your cum boys," she said as she opened her mouth and stuck out her tongue.
With that both guys started shooting on her breasts, face and hair.
"Thank you both for a great time, now I have to ask you to leave," she said.
The guys dressed and left.
She walked back to me smiling.
"Now where were we?" she said as she got on her knees in front of me.
She started to lick my cock up and down like it was a popsicle occasionally lowering her head over the entire length while teasing my balls with her fingers. I was alternating between watching her and closing my eyes and leaning my head back in pleasure. The few girls I had been with in high school couldn't deep throat me like Monica.
I don't know how long I received this oral treatment before I knew I was getting close and wanted to take charge to teach her a lesson. As she was lowering her head onto my cock I surprised her and put my hands on her head and thrust my hips forward pushing my cock deeper than she had been taking it. I held her head in place and fucked her mouth for another minute thrusting my cock in and out.
"Get ready, here I come," I groaned as I shot what felt like an endless amount of cum into her mouth and throat.
I let go of her head when she started to cough. She opened her mouth and stuck out her tongue to show me all the cum before swallowing it.
She stood up and grabbed my cock and started to stroke.
"You've been a bad boy for hiding this beauty from mommy and treating me the way you just did," she said. "I'm going to have to punish you somehow."
I reached down and fingered her pussy and leaned in to give her breasts a lick.
"You've been a bad girl fucking other men behind dad's back," I said. "I'm going to have to punish you before he gets home next week."
We both laughed and she spoke first.
"What did you have in mind for punishing me?" she asked while smiling.
"One part will definitely involve my spanking you hard while we fuck," I replied. "Trying to decide if the other part should be making you my slave the rest of the week where mine is the only cock you get or if I should arrange a gang bang where you get fucked senseless and will never look for other cock again. What did you have in mind for me?"
"Teasing you, getting you nice and hard and then putting a cock cage on you and tying you down, making you watch while I take on 3 or 4 guys at once," she replied. "Being tied up you won't be able to touch yourself and the cock cage will keep you hard to the point where you're begging to cum, but I won't let you. Then again, making you my boy toy sex slave and repeatedly fucking you to the point of exhaustion would also be a good punishment."
While we spoke of the punishments she had continued to stroke me and I had gotten hard again. I had also fingered her and she was moist as well.
I removed her hand from my cock, turned her around so she was facing away from me.
"Get ready for the first part of your punishment," I growled as I pushed on her upper back to bend her over.
I grabbed my cock and quickly thrust myself inside her moist pussy.
"My god, you feel so big," she gasped.
I grabbed her hips and started thrusting hard and fast, consumed by lust.
I took my right hand off her hip and smacked her ass hard.
"You've been a bad girl," I said. "A bad, bad, girl."
Each time I said "bad" I smacked her ass.
"Damn, how does your pussy stay this tight after all that fucking I've seen you do?"
"It's not tight," she panted. "You're just big and thick."
I continued to thrust hard and began to spank her again. You could see palm marks on her ass from the smacks.
I then slid my hands up to grope her breasts and squeeze them as I pumped.
"Yes! Yes! Yes!" she shrieked. "That's it fuck mommy nice and hard."
She reached back and tickled my balls with her fingers.
"My god, you feel so good," she moaned as her body started to quiver in orgasm.
"I'm getting close," I moaned as I pulled out.
She spun around to face me and wrapped her fingers tight around the base of my cock.
"You're not cumming until mommy's had another orgasm," she said.
She laid back on the bed and motioned for me to get on top of her.
I climbed between her legs and she eagerly grabbed my cock and pulled me inside her.
I started to thrust in a slow steady rhythm while leaning over to lick and kiss her breasts. She put her hands on my head and wrapped her legs around my waist grinding her pussy against me while moaning how good it felt. I lifted my head slightly and looked at her with a mischievous grin.
"You've been a bad girl and still need to be punished," I said and with that I my gentle kisses turned into hard nibbles leaving tooth marks on her areolae. Then I raised my head and gently pushed her legs apart before moving them onto my shoulders.
I reached down and smacked her ass again. Then I looked down at her amazing body and started slamming into her with wild abandon. No tenderness, no gentle screw. On my part is was simple lust-filled fucking, wanting to punish her. She kept moaning loudly how good it felt and begging me not to stop. But the sight of her tits bouncing, the sound of our skin slapping together, and her moans got to be too much for me.
"I'm gonna cum," I said before I pulled out.
"Give it to me!" she shouted.
I moved up and placed my cock in her cleavage and she pressed her breasts together.
I only needed to pump a few more times before I shot my load, with cum landing on her neck, face, hair and pillow.
I got up and looked down at what I had done.
"That's just the beginning of your punishment," I said.
"Good," she replied while she rolled over and stood up. "Is it going to continue in the shower? I need to get cleaned up."
I followed her into the shower where she proceeded to give me a hand job to get me hard while I soaped up her breasts and fingered her pussy. Then she turned around and bent over.
"Punish me some more," she said while looking over her shoulder and smiling at me.
I gave her ass a few more smacks before grabbing her hips and pushing into her. I slammed into her hard and fast as the water poured down on us. She put her hands on the wall and started to thrust her hips back at me. I leaned forward and grabbed her tits as I thrust, squeezing them hard. Then I gave her ass a few more smacks and groaned I was getting close She pulled away, got on her knees in front of me and grabbed my cock and alternated between beating me and blowing me until I shot into her mouth and she swallowed my load again.
We finished showering and drying off with no more sex or petting.
"I'm done for the night," I said. "I don't think I could get it up again."
"Go get your rest, you'll need it for tomorrow," she replied with a laugh.
After I went back to my room and climbed in bed, I heard loud moans coming from her room. I don't know if she was using a toy or her fingers to get off, but the sounds had me beating off.
The next morning, I got up early and out the door early for work before seeing her. I wanted to get in early so I could leave early, which I did.
This time when I got home early, expecting her to be alone waiting for her "boy toy" I was once again greeted by the sounds of sex. I stripped naked in my room and started to jack off to get myself hard for when I got to her room. I went to her room and got the shock of my life -- she was in the middle of a 5-man gang bang with one cock in her pussy, one in her ass, one in her mouth and one in each hand.
"Mom!" I shouted "What the hell is going on?"
"Just gearing up for your punishment son, boys do the plan I told you about," she said.
With that she let go of the two cocks of the guys she was giving handjobs. They came over and brought me to a chair they had set up in the room and proceeded to tie down my hands and ankles. Then she got up and came over to me, put a cock cage on my raging hard-on gave me a peck on the cheek and told me to enjoy the show.
"Now boys, where were we?" she laughed.
With that she got on the floor and lowered her pussy onto the cock of one guy and leaned forward slightly as another guy got behind her and started to fuck her ass. She opened her mouth and started to blow one guy and started to rapidly beat off the other two. I squirmed in my chair, wanting to stroke myself, but could only raise my hips slightly. When the guy she was blowing groaned he was going to cum, he grabbed her head and pushed his cock into her mouth harder as she came. When he pulled his cum-covered cock out her mouth, she spat the cum out onto his foot. The guy to the right pushed him out of the way and quickly offered her cock to her mouth and she quickly lowered her mouth onto it and started to suck. The guy fucking her ass groaned he was going to cum and pulled out and shot onto her back and ass. He was quickly replaced by the other guy she had been giving a handjob and he started to wildly thrust into her ass. The guy under her groaned he was getting ready to cum and she quickly got off him as his load shot straight up, coating her belly and pussy.
This continued for the next half hour with the guys moving around in a circle until each of them had a turn in her ass and her mouth. By the time they were done her breasts, face and ass were covered in cum. She said goodbye to them and then walked over to me smiling.
She grabbed a shirt and quickly wiped the cum off her face and tits.
"Did you like the show?" she asked. "I want more and It's your turn now."
She got on her knees and removed the cock cage. But she quickly put a cock ring on me and started to blow me.
Her tongue and lips were driving me crazy with pleasure and my cock was aching for release. She started to lick my balls while rapidly stroking my cock. I was moaning in pleasure with my head thrown back and eyes closed. The cock ring was making it impossible for me to cum.
She then stood up and straddled my lap, lowering her pussy onto my cock. She wrapped her arms around my neck and leaned in to kiss and lick my neck. She started to ride me slowly telling me how good my cock felt. She started to me harder and faster and I watched her breasts bouncing as she rode.
"Yes, yes, yes, oh my god yes," she panted. "Your cock feels so amazing."
The sound of our bodies repeatedly slapping together was almost as loud as her moans.
"Please remove the ring and let me cum," I pleaded.
"Yes!" she shouted as she slammed herself down on my cock throwing her head back in pleasure.
She had sweat dripping down her forehead and a huge grin on her face as she reached down and undid the ties on my hands.
My hands quickly went behind her back, and pulled her body close to mine as my mouth went right to her breasts and started to lick and bite.
She pulled herself away and got on her knees and undid the ties on my ankles as I reached down and removed the cock ring.
When she stood up, I pulled her close so I could feel her breasts pressing against my chest. I kissed her neck.
"My turn to punish you," I whispered.
With that I moved her near the bed and bent her over so her knees were against the foot of the mattress and her faced was buried in the mattress.
I grabbed her hips and plunged my cock into her ass with no lube.
She shrieked in a mix of pain and pleasure on the initial thrust.
"You need to be punished," I told her and smacked her ass hard with my hand.
I grabbed her hips and started to thrust hard and fast. Every few thrusts I'd smack her ass and tell her how bad she's been.
"Mmmmy god that feels good," she moaned. "You're so big. Keep going."
She started to rub her clit rapidly.
After another minute I groaned I was going to cum and thrust myself hard into her ass, shooting inside her instead of pulling out.
I grabbed her breasts and leaned over onto her back. Breathing hard I whispered in her ear.
"That was amazing, but don't think we're done yet."
I pulled my still semi-hard cock out of her ass and she turned around and looked at me smiling.
"We better not be done," he said as she got on her knees on the edge of the bed, reaching out to take my cock in her hand. "Let me clean this up for you."
In my first time experiencing ATM she gave me an exquisite blowjob. I lasted only five minutes before grabbing her head and pushing my cock into her throat, shooting my load. After I let go of her head she opened her mouth and stuck out her tongue, showing me the cum she had caught on it before swallowing it.
"Delicious," she said as she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.
We moved to the shower where we fucked one more time before getting dressed and having dinner.
I told her the sex with multiple strangers had to stop immediately if she wanted to keep fucking me and she reluctantly agreed if I promised to bring some friends over. For the next few days when I arrived home she was the only one in the house. We fucked multiple times every day in every position imaginable in multiple rooms.
IM NOT THE WRITER, ITS FROM A WEBSITE CALLED LITEROTICA
submitted by smileonnebornREdux to sexstories [link] [comments]


2020.01.03 16:37 sconce2600 The List: 2020

Edit 4/9/20: The lineup potentially leaked on the official website, bold names denote the names leaked (this may change upon an official release).
This is a list of acts that are potentially playing OSLs 2020. I intend to update this list via edit from now until the lineup drop. If you want to add someone to this list just comment below and I will modify the list and credit your handle next to the edit. If you want to find someone in particular quickly I suggest you use ctrl F.
POTENTIAL HEADLINERS
POTENTIAL UNDERCARD:
Playing five tracked festivals
Playing four tracked festivals
Playing three tracked festivals
Playing two tracked festivals
Playing one tracked festival
Added by users, not currently playing any heavy crossover festivals so far
The following have appeared at OSLs once before but have not released new material since their first stint and are therefore less likely to appear in 2019 (To date only Beck and Vance Joy have returned WITHOUT new material, making the following acts much less likely)
The following is a list of bands that have played OSLs more than once and the gaps between return performances, considering only five acts have ever played OSLs three times, all acts in this section should be considered less likely than acts that have played OSLs once or never. Note that no act has ever returned quicker than a three year gap, Givers, Fantastic Negrito, and Big Boi were all makeup performances for prior year cancellations.
Headliners
Threepeaters
Three year gap
Four year gap
Five year gap
Six year gap
Seven year gap
Eight year gap
Ten year gap
The following are past lineup drop dates, all lineup drops from 2012 to 2019 have occurred on a Tuesday:
ACTS CONFIRMED PRIOR TO LINEUP DROP:
Clement Marfo: cracked via bigpavelski35 from a Twitter clue video posted by OSLs Twitter.
Orville Peck
Zhu
Tyler, The Creator
Brittany Howard
The Hu
The 1975
Below are names on the potential lineup leak that occurred on 4/9/20 on the official Outsidelands website that were not included on either list:
submitted by sconce2600 to OutsideLands [link] [comments]


2019.12.30 03:47 Prolifebabe Article proving what prolife feminists have been saying all along: patriarchy likes abortion more than it likes pregnant women.

https://www.vanityfair.com/hollywood/2016/07/classic-hollywood-abortion?fbclid=IwAR2XegtThcL5CxWl5gFMmyeB6X8obpLSTYad8rBObrY_Cp6JOLmW8jVJ-AA

“Abortions were our birth control,” an anonymous actress once said about the common procedure’s place in Hollywood from the 1920s through the 1950s. While patriarchal political powers connive to block women’s legal access to abortion in 21st century America, in Old Hollywood, abortions were far more standard and far more accessible than they often are today—more like aspirin, or appendectomies. How and why did a procedure that was taboo and illegal at the time become so ordinary—at least, among a certain set?
Much like today, in Old Hollywood, the decisions being made about women’s bodies were made in the interests of men—the powerful heads of motion pictures studios MGM, Paramount Pictures, Warner Bros., and RKO. As Aubrey Malone writes in Hollywood's Second Sex: The Treatment of Women in the Film Industry, 1900-1999, “If you want to play in this business, you play like a man or you’re out. And if you happen to be a woman, better not mention it to anybody.”
From the very infancy of America’s film industry, abortions were necessary body maintenance for women in the spotlight. Birth control, including prophylactics, were about as new as “stars” themselves—movie performers who went overnight from being “Little Mary” or “The Vitagraph Girl” to “America’s Sweetheart” or “Sex Goddess.”
“These newly wealthy men and women didn’t know how to control their money, their bodies, or their lives, spending, cavorting, and reveling in excess,” writes Anne Helen Petersen in Scandals of Classic Hollywood. In the working environment of the Hollywood studio system, society’s 19th-century sexual segregation had fallen away. Women—flappers, It girls, sirens and seductresses—were spared their destiny in the kitchen, and for the first time, they earned large incomes they could spend on whatever and whomever they wished. Many believed the publicity they read about their own erotic powers, and they went toe-to-toe professionally with men. Sparks were bound to fly.
And so it became necessary for the studios to implement reformatory measures to prevent stars from destroying their value through scandal. In 1922, Will H. Hays Hays collaborated with studios to introduce mandatory “morality clauses” into stars’ contracts. Consequently an unintended pregnancy would not only bring shame to these top box-office earners—it would violate studio policy. “[I]t was a common assumption that glamorous stars would not be popular if they had children,” writes Cari Beauchamp in her book on powerful women in Old Hollywood, Without Lying Down.
These clauses may have extended to an actress’s right to marry. According to Petersen, rumor had it that “Blonde Bombshell” Jean Harlow couldn’t wed William Powell because “MGM had written a clause into her contract forbidding her to marry”—a wife couldn’t be a “bombshell,” after all. When Harlow became pregnant from the affair, she called MGM head of publicity Howard Strickling in a panic. Shortly thereafter, according to E.J. Fleming in The Fixers: Eddie Mannix, Howard Strickling and the MGM Publicity Machine, “Mrs. Jean Carpenter” entered Good Shepherd Hospital “to get some rest.” She was seen only by her private doctors and nurses in room 826, the same room she had occupied the year before for an “appendectomy.”
In the 1930s, vamp and man-eating thespian Tallulah Bankhead got “abortions like other women got permanent waves,” biographer Lee Israel quips in Miss Tallulah Bankhead. When virtuous singing sensation Jeanette McDonald found herself pregnant in 1935, MGM studio boss Louis B. Mayer told Strickling to “get rid of the problem.” McDonald soon checked into a hospital with an “ear infection,” according to Fleming’s The Fixers.
Many of these Silent Sex Goddesses either fell victim to their own hedonism, fell out of favor, or burned out, such as Theda Bara and Clara Bow. Others, like Joan Crawford, kept going. Kenneth Anger writes that Crawford was a “gutsy jazz baby” who marched through the “twin holocaust of the Talkies/Crash unscathed” to escape her dirt-poor origins. “Joan knew where she came from,” he continues, “and did not want to go back there.”
In 1931 Joan Crawford, estranged from her husband Douglas Fairbanks Jr., became pregnant with what she believed was Clark Gable’s child and Strickling arranged for an abortion. Rather than reveal the truth, Crawford told Fairbanks that during the filming of Rain on Catalina Island, she slipped on the deck of a ship and lost the baby.
Crawford’s rival Bette Davis also willingly chose to have abortions for the sake of her career. Davis was the breadwinner for her entire family—her mother and sister, and her husband, Harmon Nelson, whom she married in 1932. If she’d had a child in 1934, she told her biographer Charlotte Chandler in The Girl Who Walked Home Alone, she would’ve “missed the biggest role in her life thus far”—that of Mildred in Of Human Bondage, which earned Davis her first Oscar nomination. Other great parts—“Jezebel, Judith, Elizabeth, Charlotte, and Margo Channing”—may not have followed, either. “But I didn’t miss any of these roles, and I didn’t miss having a family,” she said. Later in life, Davis had three children.
Her first child, Barbara Davis Sherry—known as B.D.—was born when Davis was 39. As biographer Whitney Stine notes in I’d Love to Kiss You: Conversations with Bette Davis, “she was proud of the fact that, after her abortions, she could have a baby at last and a career, because her mother had always insisted that she couldn’t have both. She never tired of reminding [her mother] that she could be a mother and an actress.”
“A child could wait; her career could not.” That’s the reasoning Jean Harlow’s mother gave about her daughter’s own abortion at age 18. Ava Gardner, too, expressed a similar sentiment when discussing her abortion, which she had when married to Frank Sinatra—unbeknownst to him. “‘MGM had all sorts of penalty clauses about their stars having babies,’” Jane Ellen Wayne quotes Gardner saying in The Golden Girls of MGM. “‘If I had one, my salary would be cut off. So how could I make a living? Frank was broke and my future movies were going to take me all over the world. I couldn’t have a baby with that sort of thing going on. MGM made all the arrangements for me to fly to London. Someone from the studio was with me all the time. The abortion was hush hush . . . very discreet.’”
But things didn’t work out quite so well for Judy Garland. Famous primarily for playing Dorothy in The Wizard of Oz and struggling to maintain both her weight and her image as an ingenue, Garland was never free to make her own choices.
“Married or not, the MGM girls maintained their virginal image,” Wayne observes, and this was especially true of Garland. In 1941, at age 19, she married the bandleader David Rose without the approval of MGM, and within 24 hours was ordered back by to work. When she became pregnant by Rose, her mother, Ethel, in cahoots with the studio, arranged for Garland to have an abortion. Audiences loved her as a child—not as a mother. In 1943, Garland became pregnant from her affair with Tyrone Power, according to Petersen. Strickling arranged for her to have an abortion. Arguably, these incidents affected Garland psychologically; eventually she became the first public victim of stardom.
Tyrone Power also got Lana Turner pregnant. Again, Strickling arranged for an abortion. Power was one of a constellation of male stars—such as Errol Flynn, Clark Gable, and Charlie Chaplin—whose unbridled dalliances left women paying the price, according to The Fixers. (The phrase “In like Flynn” alludes to Errol’s ease at bedding women—and his good fortune at being acquitted of statutory rape of two teenage girls.)
Strickling, who was by now referred to as a “fixer,” had his hands full with Turner. The “Sweater Girl” allegedly found herself pregnant by bandleader Artie Shaw in 1941, and Strickling arranged an abortion during her publicity tour of Hawaii. The procedure took place without anesthesia, on her hotel bed. Turner’s mother covered her mouth with her hand to stifle her daughter’s cries. A studio doctor, paid $500 that was then deducted from Turner’s paycheck, performed the procedure. A week later, she was back on set filming Ziegfeld Girl, according to The Fixers.
Some actresses struggled with whether or not to keep their child. Mexican screen siren Lupe Velez committed suicide in 1944 because she was pregnant by her lover Harald Ramond, who wouldn’t marry her. A devout Catholic, she declined to call “Doctor Killkare” (“the joke name for Tinseltown’s leading abortionist,” according to Kenneth Anger in Hollywood Babylon), and downed 75 Seconal instead, according to Hollywood Babylon.
The decision was equally tragic for Dorothy Dandridge. Otto Preminger had directed her in Carmen Jones and made her a star. When she became pregnant by him in 1955, he refused to divorce his wife and marry her. Dandridge was forced to have an abortion; the studio demanded it, according to Scandals of Classic Hollywood, not only because a child would compromise her image as the sexy Carmen Jones, but also because Preminger was a white man. And, while miscegenation laws were repealed in California in 1948, nationwide they were still very much in place.
Ironically, the rebel of her day was Loretta Young—not because she had an abortion, but because she refused to have one. A devout Catholic, Young journeyed abroad in 1935 to recuperate from a ‘mystery illness,’ after she found herself with child by Clark Gable under shady circumstances—and avoided the press. She gave birth to her daughter at home in Los Angeles. Young initially gave the child up for adoption—and then, a few months later, officially adopted her, according to The Fixers.
In the heyday of the Hollywood studio system, women were at their most desirable and their most powerful—but it still didn’t afford them the right to choose when it came to governing their bodies. Hollywood’s production codes extended to women’s reproduction. In the hundred years or so that have passed since the birth of American cinema, everything has changed—though, then again, perhaps nothing has.
submitted by Prolifebabe to prolife [link] [comments]


2019.07.30 18:47 Jackice1714 Answers to the 2 most-asked (negative) questions about Qhira+Devs' comments about Qhira

* First off, can we stop stop whining about Qhira not being hero A, B, C, D, X, Y, Z... from other Blizzard games and take a moment to appreciate Qhira (a hero that was made with a lot of love, blood, sweat and tears just like other heroes by the devs)? And i think they release her for a good reason: I think the hero for Blizzcon this year will be Deathwing. The next hero (Qhira) is related to the Nexus so that they can expand the Nexus lore. Do you remember the reason why the Raven Lord released the Dark Nexus and wanted to conquer the realms? It's because he saw a "Cataclysm" coming to consume the whole Nexus, so he wanted to become stronger to "protect" it. Even with the Caldeum Complex event, the Chromie skin hinted that she also saw a "Cataclysm" coming. And i think that Cataclysm is Deathwing! ;)
* Now, I will answer 2 questions that A LOT of people asked about Qhira, and the comments of the devs about her are below:
* The questions:
  1. Why did the devs "waste" their time/resources on making a hero that "nobody wants/knows of" even after all the bad things that happened to the game/now that the time between hero releases are longer?
- Short answer: They were working on Qhira before all the bad things happened.
- Full answer: To me, Qhira is even more important than Orphea. Because she is the last hero that some former HotS devs worked on before they were moved to other projects (or even worse) and the first hero that some new HotS devs worked on (so the devs team do have new devs to replace some of the old ones. Yay!). So yeah, she was under development before all the bad things happened. So if you think that the devs wasted their time/resources on making Qhira instead of highly-anticipated heroes then you're wrong. It would have been much more wasteful if they decided to scrap the idea of making Qhira, delete her model and all the animations that had already been worked on.
  1. Why Qhira? Her kit is fun to play, but there are already-known Blizzard characters that fit her kit well (like Kargath), so why didn't the devs choose to make them instead?
- Short answer: The reason is partly like the answer above. But the main reason is her unique design that no other Blizzard characters have.
- Full answer: I will let the devs answer it for me. At the end of 2018 the Heroes of the Storm team revealed their first Nexus-original hero, Orphea. In July 2019 Qhira was revealed. Hero Designer Kyle Dates explained her creation: "Even before Orphea had launched, we were excited to explore the idea of other Nexus-born heroes and what that might mean for the game. We started off with a kit design for a hero who wielded a whip-like chainblade that could extend and retract on demand. One of the first ability designs was to extend the blade and attach to enemies, swinging around them in an acrobatic fashion. The idea of this hero moving about the battlefield so dramatically really excited us! There weren’t any Blizzard characters who matched this identity the way we liked so it made a lot of sense to us to deliver this in the form of a new Nexus hero."
Lead Live Designer, Brett Crawford, talked with InvenGlobal about how Qhira came to be and why she was revealed: "We had this really cool idea for a hero with a chainblade who swings around the battlefield, a really flashy hero. We wanted to just bring her in alongside Orphea, but they are not necessarily related, so [her design] was really more focused on the kit and just being a really cool hero rather than having any ties to Orphea." The design team didn't mince words when it came to how Qhira was created. It all starts and ends with the chainblade. As there were no existing characters in the Blizzard universe that rocked the deadly weapon of choice, they decided to create a kit and hero around that. Orphea, on the other hand, was designed first then had a kit built around the concept.
* Now, let's move on to the devs' comments about Qhira:
- Lana Bachynski: "Qhira is the result of a resilient amazing team and a ton of effort. Delighted to have worked with nearly the entire animation team on this one! @CareenaKingdom was the vision holdemain animator, with additional work by @BrittanyGleiter , @shumface and me! WELCOME TO THE NEXUS!": https://twitter.com/Latienie/status/1155897434586980352
- Brittany Gleiter: "Ahhhhh this was so much fun to animate!!! Hope everyone enjoys death dropping on their enemies! Thanks so much @Vipey_ for the gif! :3": https://twitter.com/BrittanyGleitestatus/1155915417816326144
- Felipe Pereira: "Qhira was my final audio contribution to @BlizzHeroes and holds a very special place in my heart! I used the tried and true Ben Burtt lightsaber recording technique + Serum for her sword and also referenced Guardians of the Galaxy for inspiration. What a fun hero to work on!": https://twitter.com/hay_felipay/status/1155902223295143936
- Andrew Kinabrew: "She’s super fun. Go play her on ptr!": https://twitter.com/akaTheBrew/status/1155894551292178432
Her story is "Not as deep as Orphea this time around but she’s our nexus hunter. There wasn’t a lot of explanation on boba fett the first time we saw him. She’s got that type of mystery attached to her. You get a hint from the trailer on her origins."
- Thomas Horwath: "Sending this out again because I want to mention that @MBruzzeseFX was the primary #fx artist bringing Qhira to life. The end result was a team wide #gamedev collaboration, but Marcus carried the torch! Great job on your first, amazing hero!": https://twitter.com/ThomasHorwath/status/1155901317547798529
- Marcus: "Here is the first hero I had the pleasure help make #vfx on for @BlizzHeroes Be sure the check Qhira out!": https://twitter.com/MBruzzeseFX/status/1155905299573874688
* What has happened has happened. What is done cannot be undone. There is no point in looking back and ruminating over the past. I am a forward-looking person, and you should be one, too! So if you don't like Qhira (even though her animations, visual effects and especially sound effects are just so satisfying and she's super fun to play), now, the best thing to do is giving them suggestions to improve the game! I will start first. I'm surprised that i haven't seen a suggestion to improve future Hero Spotlight videos. My suggestion: Without a narrator, the Hero Spotlights videos should have on-screen texts that describe what the abilities do.
* As usual, thank you for reading my post! Hope you have a great day! <3
submitted by Jackice1714 to heroesofthestorm [link] [comments]


2019.01.02 21:57 sconce2600 The List: 2019

The Lineup is out, bold denotes acts that ended up on the lineup
This is a list of acts that are potentially playing OSLs 2019. I intend to update this list via edit from now until the lineup drop. If you want to add someone to this list just comment below and I will modify the list and credit your handle next to the edit. If you want to find someone in particular quickly I suggest you use ctrl F.
POTENTIAL HEADLINERS
POTENTIAL UNDERCARD:
Playing eight tracked festivals
Playing six tracked festivals
Playing five tracked festivals
Playing four tracked festivals
Playing three tracked festivals
Playing two tracked festivals
Playing one tracked festival
Added by users, not currently playing any heavy crossover festivals so far
The following have appeared at OSLs once before but have not released new material since their first stint and are therefore less likely to appear in 2019 (To date only Beck and Vance Joy have returned WITHOUT new material, making the following acts much less likely)
The following is a list of bands that have played OSLs more than once and the gaps between return performances, considering only five acts have ever played OSLs three times, all acts in this section should be considered less likely than acts that have played OSLs once or never. Note that no act has ever returned quicker than a three year gap, Givers, Fantastic Negrito, and Big Boi were all makeup performances for prior year cancellations.
Headliners
Threepeaters
Three year gap
Four year gap
Five year gap
Six year gap
Seven year gap
Eight year gap
Ten year gap
The following are past lineup drop dates, all lineup drops from 2012 to 2018 have occurred on a Tuesday:
ACTS CONFIRMED PRIOR TO LINEUP DROP:
NAMES THAT ULTIMATELY ENDED UP ON THE LINEUP THAT WERE ON NEITHER LIST (26):
submitted by sconce2600 to OutsideLands [link] [comments]


2018.04.04 13:08 AnorhiDemarche Sydney This Weekend (7th & 8th)

Outside shit
Market shit
Tasty shit
Art shit
Performance shit
Gig Shit
Education Shit
Other shit
Last day shit
Shit you guys suggested
Trackwork This Weekend
Key
Now also available in website format. Share with non-reddit friends and family without potentially revealing your username and horrible, dark post history!
Need more? Resource list!
dark_skeleton made an applet so you can be notified when I post one of these threads.
We’ve got Biennale of Sydney, Seniors Festival, Children’s Festival, Spanish Festival, and Double Bay Dog Day this week!
submitted by AnorhiDemarche to sydney [link] [comments]


2017.12.23 08:20 bustedmagnets Finally Getting to Rewatch

So I finally had occasion to get Hulu, and one of the big reasons was so I could rewatch Smallville.
This post may be long, but I just felt like tossing down my thoughts on it, so if you read it, thanks, if you don't, well, no biggie!
I watched it when it was on new, and I enjoyed it a lot. But I don't think I really appreciated just how good this show is for two main reasons. One; at the time, my comic book lore wasn't very good. I knew Superman, and I knew the basics of his story and what he was about, but I didn't know a lot of the back story. Since then, while I haven't read any of the comics, I do surf various wikias on a semi-regular basis just reading lores and tidbits of past stories. Rewatching the show with new knowledge makes you appreciate all the more the subtle nods to the future. All the times Clark has an S on his chest that seems out of place. All the times Lois in her early seasons makes some reference to how she wouldn't date a guy with a dual identity or how she'll "be stuck sitting across from some nerd with glasses".
The second reason is a lot of the shows that aired on WB and CW had this kind of... aura of "its only for teens" or "it's only for girls" and stuff like that. Supernatural is another example, I never watched it, it always seemed like a "chick show" for some reason, but upon watching it, it became one of my favorite shows ever. One of the handful I choose to rewatch every so often just out of enjoyment.
But Smallville I really don't think I ever gave proper credit. The acting is great, most notable to me the episode where Clark and Lionel switch bodies. Tom Welling pulls off acting like John Glover, and Glover pulls off acting like Welling brilliantly. Their mannerisms change completely, their tone of speech changes, they both did a fantastic job portraying each other.
The music direction/sound editing is great as well, again most notably the episode Labyrinth where a Zoner makes Clark believe he's in a mental institution and his entire life is a delusion. That slow, almost melodic hum in the background through all the seasons of the mental institution almost makes you feel as uncomfortable as Clark must feel. Its that kind of sound that just kind of makes your skin crawl, makes you know something isn't quite right.
And one of the biggest things to me is how well they show Clarks burgeoning powers. I've been watching The Flash, I watched the first season and a half of Supergirl, and one thing that bothered me is that they don't always do a great job of really showing just how powerful those characters are. In one scene Barry might move faster than the other characters (or even the viewer) can blink, but then he'll be in a fight and he's travelling too slow to catch up to an enemy. Supergirl has some of the same problems.
Smallville, though, typically remains consistent with showcasing Clarks speed. Especially given that his speed noticeably gets faster as the series progresses. His strength is also handled very well. Jonathan will be lifting bales of hay, and he'll be struggling with both hands to move one off the truck, and Clark will come along and just grab two of them by the strap and effortlessly move them off. He'll toss an enemy into a wall as easily as you or I might toss a piece of paper into a trash can, and they do a great job of showing how easy it really is for him. Even when he has to move something extremely heavy, it's done in a way that makes it look like he's still not struggling.
The cinematography is great in the sense that they are very careful about thigns such as... in the midst of a heat wave, Clark is not sweating, not phased at all. Or how, early in the series while he's still learning that he's invincible, he'll block incoming attacks from hitting his head/face. In one fantasy sequence/delusion, Lex swings at Clark with a sword, and while even a direct shot into his head wouldn't phase him, in character Clark still reacts as someone that doesn't realize it's not gonna phase him, and instead it shatters off his forearm.
Bottom line, as I said at the start, I really don't think I gave enough credit to how good this show really is. They mix in just the right amount of nerdy references and nods to the future, with solidly paced action, and believable drama. You believe that Lana really loves Clark and doesn't know how to deal with it. And you struggle along with Clark trying to decide between telling Lana the truth and trying to keep her safe.
I'm midway through season 6, and I don't think I've enjoyed a TV show rewatch this much in a long, long time, maybe ever.
Thanks for reading! (If you got this far.)
submitted by bustedmagnets to Smallville [link] [comments]


2017.06.01 14:43 SqueeWrites Wonder Woman #13 - Fated Rendezvous

Wonder Woman #13: Fated Rendezvous

<< First < Previous
Author: SqueeWrites
Book: Wonder Woman
Arc: Conflict Forges a Hero
Set: 13
 
 
Diana floated in the air beside Superman, his eyes scanning the flooded city below them. Everywhere beneath them were submerged buildings, some destroyed while other remained nearly whole in a seemingly random pattern. "Two more that way," Clark said, pointing towards a half submerged house roughly a mile away. Diana nodded and the two heroes split. Diana diving towards the spot Clark had pointed out while he went to rescue others.
Water engulfed Diana as she dove under the surface, kicking her feet to accelerate as she entered. She could fly underwater, but actually swimming was faster and she needed that speed now. She zipped into the door of the house that had been shattered by the tsunami. Nothing stood out to her downstairs so she sped up to the second floor, head breaking the surface of the water near the ceiling.
Two voices cried out in the small space between the top of the water and the floor. A woman holding a child who appeared to be her son swam away before recognizing her.
"I've come to take you to safety. Will you come with me?" Diana asked in Thai.
The woman hugged her son close to her, agreeing fervently. Diana swam close grabbing the woman and her son easily in her arms. "Hold your breath," Diana said and the two both took big gulps of the remaining air. As soon as they're mouths were closed Diana sped through the water like a bullet, down the stairs and then up and out of the house. In seconds, they were floating above the remains of their house. The woman wept openly, clinging to Diana, but her son gazed out in wonder at the scene before him.
"So cool!" The boy said. His mother smiled despite her tears and Diana joined her.
"Here, let me get you to safety," Diana said.
With that, she flew the two to one of Flash's evacuation sites. Police and medical teams had already shown up and were making sure all of the people who'd been evacuated were all right. She let the woman and her boy down who thanked her repeatedly. Diana waved them off with a smile as Clark landed beside her a small family of four each clinging to him. Once they were on the ground, the family thanked him as much as the woman and boy had thanked her. As much as everyone they'd rescued today had thanked them.
Clark and Diana shared a glance and they were back in the air.
"I don't see any others," Clark said.
Diana turned in the air to face him properly. "We were lucky that Flash was here when it happened or we would have found more."
"We do all make a great team." He smiled at her, but his smile dropped. "Oh darn, I need to get back and meet up with Lois. We’re going to a wedding."
"Wedding? Chloe's aunt's wedding?"
"That's the one. I'm taking a plane over with Chloe and Lois today."
“Today?” Diana frowned. "Chloe informed me that it would be tomorrow. I knew it was strange to not have a proaulia."
"A what?" Clark asked, clearly confused. "No, the wedding is tomorrow, but air travel is slow, so guests generally stay over when traveling for these things.”
Diana eyed him suspiciously. A wedding that didn't even last a day seemed a bit improper to her, but she supposed Clark had no reason to lie. Still, it seemed very odd.
“Besides, there is a rehearsal dinner tonight too," Clark added.
“Yes, Chloe did mention something about that. Tell me, why would anyone have to rehearse consuming a meal?”
“There’s a little more to it than that, but I take it I’ll be seeing you at the wedding?”
"Yes, I shall see you on the morrow."
"Of course! Gotta fly!" With that, he flew away back towards Metropolis. Below her, the water had slowly started to retreat; she assumed that was due to Arthur's efforts. She studied some of Thailand's rubble filled streets.
"I have time. Perhaps, I can shift some of this rubble so their people have less difficulty with their automobiles."
 
WWWWW
 
Diana landed back in her apartment, armor and hair well since dry from the flight back. Etta, for once, was home at the same time as she. She sat on the couch, watching something on the television which seemed to be a pastime that Etta enjoyed. Smiling, she sprung up from the couch as Diana came in.
"Roomie! You're back. I was watching you guys on the news." Etta grabbed her into a hug before turning the volume of the television down and settling back on the couch. "Big date tomorrow, isn't it?"
"Correct," Diana said, sitting down beside her. "I am very excited to see how a modern wedding is performed in the United States."
"And..?" Etta said, probing. Diana merely blinked.
"And what?"
"You're going to get to meet Chloe's parents! That's a big step in a relationship."
"Ah," Diana said, studying her hands. "You are correct. That could be important if it is her intention. However, we have not actually discussed being in a relationship together so I am not sure if that's it."
"Pah," Etta waved her reasons away. "Chloe doesn't seem like a 'labels' kind of girl anyways. More like a 'hold me and kiss me, Wonder Woman' type of girl." She adopted a high pitched sighing voice as she that last bit and immediately laughed as though she'd made a hilarious joke.
"Well, we have not kissed yet so I'm not sure that is a good criteria either."
"What?" Etta's mouth dropped open, comically wide. "Diana," she said, pulling the couch pillow from behind her. She took it in one hand and struck Diana with it, each strike emphasizing a point. "Kiss. That. Girl."
Diana shielded herself from the blows, smiling, as neither the pillow nor the admonishment hurt. "I understand, I understand." Etta stopped her playful assault and adopted a faux harshness to her tone.
"And wear the heels."
"You are wise regarding relationships, Etta, but I refuse to wear those mini-stilts. How is a person supposed to move freely in those?"
 
WWWWW
 
Luggage on her back, Diana flew east and slightly north towards Smallville. She had her directions and an aerial map provided by Chloe, but she wondered if it might have been simpler, though longer, to fly in a plane. Eventually, she spotted a copse of a trees next to a field full of cylinders of hay. Near the center of the field was an old pickup truck, red more from rust than paint, and leaning against the side was Chloe.
Diana touched down in the trees before stepping out to meet her; she waved with a big grin at her approach. The two shared a hug before Chloe stepped back, checking out Diana's outfit. The pair of jeans she wore restricted her movements, but the violet “tank top” she'd gotten felt quite nice in the Smallville sunshine, though she wasn’t sure what the clothing had to do with a tank.
"Looking good, wonderful."
"And you as well."
And she did look good. Chloe often dressed very polished, if relaxed, but her current outfit was similar to Diana's, a pair of dark jeans and a v-necked t-shirt with a small pocket on the front. The look lent Chloe a rugged realistic air that Diana found particularly alluring. For a brief moment, the two studied each other, both sharing grins, and she considered kissing her, but Chloe's reaction when she'd attempted to hold her hand in the coffee shop stalled her.
Was Chloe not actually interested in a romantic relationship? Maybe going on a "date" was something different than Diana believed. Asking her seemed the best method, but she did not want to make her uncomfortable either. Before she could decide though, Chloe opened the truck door with a loud creaking sound and stepped up onto it with one foot.
"Go on around and I'll give you the tour of the small town I call home," she said.
"I would appreciate that."
Diana hopped into the truck beside Chloe, and with a rumble, the truck came to life, bouncing over the small lumps in the field until it made its way back on the road. For over an hour, they rode around Smallville with Chloe sharing memories. Most of them brought a wistful look to her face as she told me of her adventures, many involving Clark. Since Chloe hadn't fit in with most of the kids (she stated this matter of factly rather than upset about it), she threw herself into the Wall of Weird and often roped Clark into exploring strange things that she'd later write about on her blog.
Diana found herself feeling jealous. Her own childhood, much of her time in Themyscira in fact, had been spent learning away from many of her sisters. Even her relationship with Sable felt contrived since she'd been one of the few around frequently, though the emotions surely hadn't felt artificial. The thought of Sable brought Diana into a somber mood as it oft did. Her lover's death had struck her hard. That kind of loss was not common on Themyscira despite their deference to the wonder.
The truck succumbed to silence as they approached Chloe's house and Diana was comfortable letting it do so, instead watching farms pass as they drove. Eventually, the truck idled to a stop in front of a quaint house with pale yellow siding and a brick base. Shade from a large oak tree fell over the truck dimming the inside. Chloe clutched two hands to the steering wheel, studying the rough bark of the oak just outside her window.
"So..." Chloe looked over to Diana a strange expression on her face, almost as though she were in pain or afraid. "I want you to know that I like you, Diana, and I know that we've been a bit... flirty. Probably more than just a bit, but I..." She paused again clearly unsure how to say what she needed so Diana stepped in.
"I enjoy our time together, Chloe, but it does not have to go further than you wish. If simple friends we must be, I will relish having one as incredible as you."
Chloe's eyes shot open in surprise. "What? No, that's not what I...." She turned in her seat, taking Diana's hand in hers. Just as Diana had done unsuccessfully at the coffee shop a few days prior. "I absolutely want to be more than friends with you."
Diana's face twisted in confusion. "I do not understand. If you wish for more, why do you hold back?"
Chloe took a deep breath. "It's just that... Well, people here, especially in smaller places like this," she motioned around towards Smallville, "they don't always understand."
"Do not understand what? Love?"
Chloe blushed furiously at the word, but continued. ""Yes, exactly! They understand it between a man and a woman, but with two women..."
Diana's mouth dropped open. "But they're both women. In what way does that not fit? What foolish not-"
"Hey, hey," Chloe said, interrupting."Yes, it's dumb. I get it. I do. But that's just how some people see it."
"So you want to be with me, but you do not want others to know.”
"Yes... No! I mean, I just don't want them to know right now. It's my aunt's wedding this weekend and I don't want to ruin her wedding by coming out."
Diana's jaw tightened. "'Ruin' her wedding? Ruin it? How can love ever ruin a wedding? What kind of fami-"
Just as Diana's anger had reached its zenith, Chloe leaned across the truck seat, pulling close, but the sound of Chloe's front door opening caused her to nearly leap away from her. An older woman stood smiling at the door and gave a small wave before folding her arms beneath her breasts. Chloe waved back before returning her attention to Diana, eyes pleading. "Please, just for this weekend. For me?"
Diana scowled as her frustration roiled, but she gave Chloe a small nod. With a relieved smile in return, she hopped out of the truck and Diana followed shortly behind, but she took a few moments to breathe deeply, clearing her thoughts and attempting to work out Chloe's request objectively as Athena had taught her.
Any way she looked at the idea, it seemed some folly of the man's world, but a slight doubt did creep into her. Not a justification but an empathy of sorts. On Themyscira, any woman who was engaged with a man would be exiled and any that admitted to liking men was ostracized. It did not happen often, but when it did, it formed quite the scandal. While she'd never personally contributed to those acts, she did feel a slight guilt at her anger at Chloe. She still did not think it was right, but perhaps she should apologize later.
Diana moved around the truck, now able to see several vehicles including Chloe's own parked behind the house. A white arch flanked by two more oak trees facing several rows of metal folding chairs, and beyond those, several tables were arrayed in straight lines around the main area. At the door, Chloe ended a hug with her mom and motioned Diana forward.
"Mom, this is my friend Diana that I told you about. She lives on the west coast so hasn't really experienced a nice country wedding before."
"Pleasure to meet you, ma'am," Diana said, attempting to ignore the word 'friend.' Chloe's mom moved her hand out of the way before hugging her.
"Handshakes are for strangers, sweetie. We hug friends around here." Diana smiled, returning the hug before Chloe's mother stepped back. "Call me, Moira. Not everybody's here yet, but we've got some iced tea and deviled eggs in the kitchen." After motioning inside, Moira returned her attention to Diana, finally realizing just how far up she looked. To her credit, she only registered a mild shock before ushering the two of them through the door.
As they walked from the main hallway scattered with plants and old photographs and into the kitchen, two women and a tall man stood chatting in a semi-circle. The man and one of the women looked oddly familiar to her. The three of them turned their attention to them as they walked in. The familiar looking woman's sharp gaze studied Diana as though she too thought she looked familiar.
"Hey guys," Chloe said, "This is my friend, Diana."
The tall man adjusted a pair of dark rimmed glasses on his face before holding out his hand. "Hi, I'm Clark. Chloe's told me a lot about you."
Diana barely caught her surprise from registering on her face. She'd never seen Clark out of his Superman uniform before. How could he look so different? Perhaps I should invest in some glasses as well, she thought, shaking his hand. He gave her a sly wink.
The woman, who Diana now recognized as Lois Lane, held out her hand as well, but as Diana gripped her hand, Lois's own eyes lit up in shock. "Chloe," Lois said, "This is-" Chloe stopped her sentence with a hand over her cousin's mouth and pulled her away.
Diana introduced herself to the last woman, Lucy Lane, and the three of them stood there, a quiet settling over the three of them. Once Chloe had pulled Lois out of earshot of most people, but not Diana and Clark, she whispered furiously to her cousin.
"She's not technically my girlfriend."
"I wasn't-"
"My folks don't know and I don't want to start a scene so please don't mention it."
"What?" Lois looked confused, but leaned in even closer to Chloe to whisper. "No, that's Wonder Woman."
"Oh," Chloe said, staring at her cousin. "Uh, please don't mention that either."
Lois rolled her eyes. "Fine, but you should tell your parents."
"I don't want them to know she's Wonder Woman either!"
"Not what I- Chloe, you have to tell your parents you're gay eventually especially if you're-"
Clark cleared his throat loudly, drowning out Chloe and Lois's whispered conversation. Diana and Clark shared an awkward glance and he gave her a sheepish smile before turning to Lucy and asking her about school. Chloe and Lois returned a moment later, Chloe's face turning a bright shade of red as she caught Diana's eye, but soon they were all joking and laughing.
As the day wore on, Diana changed into the coral dress she’d picked out for the wedding with Etta and Chloe. She spent most of her time before the ceremony with Clark, Chloe, and Lois, but she was introduced to several of Chloe's other family members. Uncles, aunts, cousins, and even family friends rolled in as it got closer in time to the wedding. Many of the guests were rough faced men and women with calloused hands, a hard day's work clearly familiar to them. Others though were the exact opposite. Men in suits and women in heels, stiff backed but with soft hands.
With the more polished guests, it reminded her of speaking to the council members, politeness and light conversation abound. With the laborers, Diana felt as though each of them were a sister who'd spent the day at their life's labor. Unsure if it was due to the mix of people or some earlier incident, there was a bit of tension in the air. Chloe seemed to ignore it so she did as well instead focusing on the differences between this and a traditional Themysciran wedding.
Diana sat beside Clark, during the ceremony, on one of the small folding chairs. Chloe gave her a small wave from where she stood next to Lois beside the white arch, both wearing their pink bridesmaid gowns. The wedding unfolded not too entirely different than those in Themyscira. Words were spoken between Lois’s parents, music played, and several people walked slowly down a space between the folded chairs. It was much shorter than a traditional Themysciran ceremony though. Diana wondered if Lois’s parents would have not stayed married the first time if they’d taken the appropriate time for a wedding ceremony.
Afterwards, Chloe’s mother and other women in the family set out huge dishes of food from potatoes to several different types of meats and something called, “Macaroni and Cheese” which Diana found particularly delicious. The men’s world had a number of delicacies she’d discovered that she enjoyed immensely. Another was the “wedding cake” which Clark was quite eager for her to try.
As the afternoon slowly turned to evening, a speaker had been set up that played music and an area now dimly lit where the chairs had been hosted a number of the guests dancing slowly in time. Chloe and Diana sat in chairs that had been set up around the edges watching the couples dance. Clark and Lois sat beside them, but seemed hesitant to interrupt Diana and Chloe’s quiet conversation and instead stuck to an awkward silence between themselves. A wistful, glazed expression fell on Chloe’s face as she sipped her wine.
“Yesterday, they were all fighting, but today, they all look so relaxed in the arms of the person they love.”
Diana turned her attention from the crowd to Chloe. The wine had flushed her cheeks a light pink, barely visible on the outskirts of the makeshift dance floor. Her lips parted in a small breath and they shimmered from her recent sip. She cast her eyes to Diana, two twin pools that rivaled the beauty of the Fountain itself.
“Diana.” Chloe lay one hand on Diana’s exposed knee, the light touch sending a small chill through her. “Would you like to dance with me?”
“Is that something appropriate for friends to do?”
“Maybe,” she said with none of her usual mirth on her lips. Only that intoxicating stare that bid her heart to quicken. Chloe ran two fingers along her own lips as she awaited her response. Another shiver rocked Diana.
“I would love to dance with you.”
As graceful as a cat, Chloe floated to her feet, taking Diana by the hand, and leading her to the dance floor where the other couples still danced close. Other couples Diana mused. Chloe placed Diana’s hand on her waist and clasped her other in her own. Instinctually, Diana moved as Chloe did. Each step, each turn, they glided in time. Chloe pulled Diana with her eyes, leading her as adeptly as Ares with a foe, with all the confidence of Aphrodite herself. With a spin, Chloe rotated under her hand, Diana noting as their eyes broke contact that several of the guests had stopped to watch them. When Chloe spun back into her, she slid her hand along the cotton fabric of Diana’s coral dress, just under her breast, and rested her palm between her shoulder blades. Diana’s own hand moved of its own accord, slipping from her hip to the small of her back and pressing her close.
Chloe closed her eyes as Diana held her, their breaths moving in time as though their bodies strained to be closer. Closing her eyes as well, Diana rested her cheek against the top of Chloe’s head, thoughts only for her. Of Chloe’s boldness on their first meeting, standing defiantly on a rooftop waiting for her. Of her quick wit and quicker smile. She pulled back from Chloe and their gaze met again, hers searching Diana’s.
The song ended with soft, fading strings, but they did not part. Wrapped in each other’s arms, their eyes danced along their faces, taking in the wonder of humanity. Of love.
“Kiss me,” Chloe whispered.
And Diana did. Chloe relaxed into the kiss as their lips met, her body melting against Diana’s so that every curve of hers molded into her own. With their lips pressed together, time stretched and became more fluid than her time in Aeiea. That moment could have been minutes or hours, but Diana didn’t care. Small kisses between smaller breaths trailed the moment until it ended as they began, slightly apart with eyes captured by the other. Diana’s breath came heavier than she would have expected, but they both smiled.
“Chloe!” A woman’s voice said and Chloe’s smile immediately dropped. Chloe’s mom, Moira, stalked over to the dance floor, took Chloe by the hand, and drug her away. Diana followed them away from the light of the dance floor and watching eyes of their family underneath one of the tall oaks. As they stopped and Moira turned around with a stern look on her face, Diana watched as Chloe’s own expression turned from panic to resolve.
“Mom,” Chloe said with a tight edge to her voice. “I’m gay. Diana is my girlfriend and I… care about her deeply.” Chloe seemed to stumble over a different word before changing what she was going to say with a glance at Diana. “I know you may not-“
Chloe’s mom cut her off with a swift gesture, but adopted a nicer tone. “Sweetie, I know you’re gay. That’s not the issue here.”
“You knew?”
“Well, I had some suspicions in the years after Ollie, but when you bring your gorgeous ‘friend’ to a wedding and hang off of her, it gets a little obvious.”
Relief seemed to wash over Chloe’s face, but confusion took its place quickly. “Then why are you mad?”
“You two were making out in front of the whole family. I thought your younger cousins were going to have a pubescent stroke. Nothing wrong with a simple kiss, but I did not raise my daughter to act like some kind of hussy who hikes her leg up in public for just any bo… er, girl.” Despite her stern glare at Chloe, she leaned over and touched Diana’s arm with a smile. “Not that I think you’re just any girl, dear. You’re quite lovely.”
Chloe’s face turned a deep shade of red and she looked down at the ground. “I… hiked my leg up?” she asked. Goosebumps formed along the nape of Diana’s neck as she recalled their kiss and, yes, she did remember feeling Chloe’s thigh grazing across her own. Without waiting for an answer, Chloe continued in a quieter voice. “I’m sorry, momma. I guess I got a little carried away.”
Chloe’s mom pulled her sheepish daughter in for a tight hug. “It’s okay, sweetie. You’re not the first girl who’s ever been a fool at a wedding, but try and tone it down in the future. I thought you two were about to conceive me some grandbabies right there.”
“Yes ma’am, I will,” she said. Diana was somewhat impressed with the display of meekness. She hadn’t known Chloe had a meek fiber on her Thread. “So you’re not… upset that I’m gay?”
“Heavens, no. I won’t lie and say I wish you weren’t just so it would be easier for you, but it’s 2017 now, lots of things have changed in the last few decades so I hope it won’t be too bad. And if anyone gives you any trouble, you just send ‘em to Mama Sullivan and I’ll put them in their place.”
Chloe dove back into her mother’s arms and from her rasping breaths muffled in her mother’s blouse, Diana assumed she was crying. Mrs. Sullivan and Diana shared a smile. For as much fear and hesitation as Chloe had around telling her parents, such a positive reaction was heartwarming. Diana liked to think that most people were good as long as you gave them the chance.
Gabe, Chloe’s father, walked up from the house, concern filling his eyes when he realized that his daughter was crying. He looked from her to his wife.
“I heard some some commotion out here. What’s going on?”
“Chloe’s finally come out,” her mom said offhand.
“Come… out?”
“She’s a lesbian, honey.”
His eyes went wide and his mouth blubbered in shock for a moment. “A what?! But… what about Oliver Queen?” In the sea of unsurprised faces, he looked from his wife to Chloe to Diana, the last making him jump more as he realized her connection with his daughter.
Chloe rubbed some tears out of her eyes and took a deep breath before answering. “I’m actually bisexual, but I prefer women.”
Her dad mouthed the words “bisexual” and ran a hand through his hair. Chloe’s mom did not seem too pleased with her husband’s reaction, but somehow his reluctance to accept seemed to steel Chloe as though this was more what she’d expected.
“Well then, uh, sweetie, have you tried… just liking men instead?”
“Gabe!” “Dad!” The two women yelled at once and he immediately started to backpedal.
“Sorry, sorry, I just had to ask. You know your mother and I will support you with… whatever. I just… wow. I did not see that coming. Better than being on drugs, I suppose.”
At that last comment, Moira’s temper broke. “Excuse me, girls. I need to go have a private conversation with my husband. We do love you no matter what.” She stalked to her husband and Diana could just make out her growl. “You. Kitchen. Now.”
The two stomped off, Moira whispering fiercely in her husband’s ear. Diana jumped as Chloe started to laugh beside her. It began as a small relieved chuckle, but grew until hysteria tinted at the edges and she doubled over, one hand on a tree to support her. Not understanding the amusement, Diana placed a hand on the small of Chloe’s back.
“Are you well?”
After another minute of nods and attempts to breathe around her laughter, it finally slowed enough for her to speak. “I’m all right,” she said, taking a large deep breath almost as though she’d been submerged underwater. “Better than all right, I think. Just wow, did you hear my mom?”
Chloe spun in place, arms wide and grinning, but Diana still looked on concerned. “I did hear her, but I do not believe your father took it as well as she did.”
“With mom understanding, he will come around, I think. Better than I could have hoped. I was so scared. Look, Diana, look at my hand.” Chloe held up one of her hands. It quivered noticeably even in the dim light. She gave a small laugh, shaking it out. “I can’t believe it finally happened. I feel so light, I could fly like you do!” She threw her head back as though she intended to.
Diana bit her lip. “I… I believe I owe you an apology, Chloe. I became… frustrated in the truck earlier, and I don’t think I really understood how you felt. I couldn’t grasp the severity of what you were dealing with… around telling your family about us. I’d like to blame being raised in another culture, but truly, I should have asked further. Not doing so was wrong of me. I’m sorry.”
Chloe’s grin broadened and she kissed Diana, though much more chastely than they had on the dance floor. “You weren’t wrong though. Not really. I did need to tell her- tell them, but I appreciate you for letting me work it out in my own way. Apology accepted and no hard feelings from me.”
The two shared a smile with Chloe resting her hand in the crook of Diana’s elbow when Clark walked up and gave a small cough to announce his presence. Diana was sure Clark had probably heard their conversation and couldn’t help but admire his thoughtfulness to wait until they’d finished it.
“So, Lois was suggesting we hit up Wild Coyote,” he said, giving Chloe a look which Diana thought was supposed to say more, but Chloe’s face still flushed from the wine she had earlier. Diana was fairly sure that she’d missed any hidden meaning and when Chloe spoke again, she was sure of it.
“Wooo! Yes, party time! First round's on me, dudesters.”
Clark gave Diana a small shrug before Chloe gathered the two of them together, nearly hanging off of their shoulders due to the height difference, and directed them back towards Lois. She’d already called cabs and a short ride later, the five of them, including their cousin Lucy, were sitting in a bar. The dim lighting hiding any dirt along the polished oak bar. An old man and young woman stood behind the bar, serving drinks to various small groups of rough looking truckers and farmers, but a young couple Diana didn’t know stood out against the mostly rough looking men.
“Pete! Lana!” Clark smiled as the two turned. “I didn’t expect to see you two again so soon.”
“It’s called Smallville for a reason,” the woman said, that Diana assume was Lana. She watched as the woman eyed Chloe, Lois, and herself. She didn’t seem unfriendly, but the way she studied them seemed a bit penetrating.
“Hey guys!” Chloe said, nearly yelling. “What a great surprise!”
All of them sat down with the two already at the bar. Chloe, despite having calmed some on the ride over, insisted they all take “victory shots” for “new beginnings.” Diana learned that “tequila” was another thing she didn’t much enjoy and it did not have the same effect on her that it had on Chloe. Not drinking, Clark somehow managed to prevent any more shots, but the first kicked Chloe into an infectiously giggly mood which filtered into the group though most drank much less than she did.
As the night wore on, Clark, Chloe, Pete, and Lana started swapping old stories from high school, Lucy listening in to the older group, and Diana found herself seated next to Lois as the other conversation devolved into inside jokes and half sentences that seemed barely legible to her. Lois watched them, her smile turning serious for a moment, as she turned her gaze to Diana.
“I heard Chloe came out to her parents tonight,” Lois said. “Holding in a secret like that, it’s hard. I’m happy for her. And for both of you.”
“Thank you,” Diana said. Trying to avoid an awkward silence, she changed the subject. “May I ask you about you and Clark?”
It’s complicated,” she said automatically.
Diana gave a small chuckle. “You said as much to Pete earlier. Why is it so complex?”
“I don’t know. That’s what makes it so complicated.”
She laughed again, setting down her own glass on the bar. “I think I can understand though. Chloe has been fighting an internal battle that I was unfamiliar with. It too was complicated, but I think where I erred is that I did not communicate. I did not speak my concerns nor truly listen to hers. Perhaps you can learn from my mistakes?”
“Perhaps,” Lois said, looking thoughtfully into her glass before taking a deep swallow and hopping up from her seat. “Come on, we can’t let them have all the fun.” She pushed her way back into their still reminiscing friends, leaving her to follow.
She made her way back over and Chloe beamed as she noticed her, pulling her in close and entwining her fingers in Diana’s. She leaned part of her weight back into her, both enjoying the contact as Chloe nodded to something Lana was saying. The night continued from there. Diana and Chloe always touching in some manner- a hand on an elbow, a slight finger tracing an exposed knee- and Chloe sauntered from drunk to very drunk.
By the time the old man behind the bar announced the “last call,” Chloe rested her head on one arm along the bar and with the other traced Diana’s eyebrows. To her credit, her voice only slurred a little as she spoke. “You have amazing eyebrows. Royal eyebrows. Diana of the nice eyebrows.” Her head dipped a bit, but Clark came over still chipper and placed another cup of water in front of her.
“This one too, Chloe.”
“Yessir, Captain Man-sir,” She muttered, eyes now closed, but still with one hand on Diana’s brow. Diana propped Chloe up, helping her drink from the small cup.
“Cabs should be here soon,” Clark said, looking from Diana to the bartender who merely grunted. Lois, who unlike Chloe had taken the last couple hours to sober up, rubbed her cousin’s back as they waited. Pete and Lana left first, giving hugs to everyone, before the cab pulled up outside. Clark left a little extra money on the counter with a, “Sorry for staying so late,” as the five of them climbed into the two separate cabs.
Chloe nestled into Diana’s side as their cab rumbled along in the quiet of the late night. Lucy, who sat across from Chloe, watched the two women with a small smile, but didn’t break the silence. The cab finally stopped just behind the truck Chloe had picked her up in earlier that day, the lights of her parent’s house all out barring a single one on the front porch.
“You sure you don’t need any help with her?” Lucy asked.
“I believe I can get her to bed unharmed.” Diana nodded.
When Lucy was sure Diana did indeed have Chloe well in hand, she entered the Sullivan house, presumably for bed. Diana opened the unlocked door with one hand and as quiet as she could carried Chloe up the narrow set of stairs towards her childhood bedroom.
“I’m going to kiss you all over. All. Over. Everywhere,” Chloe whispered, a little too loudly. Diana tried to shush her, but Chloe leaned up attempting to nibble on her ear instead. While Diana did find the clumsy attempt cute, the seduction had little of its intended effect. Inside Chloe’s bedroom, dark posters with single words hung from the walls and contrasted with a sizable collection of stuffed animals. Diana stripped her of her clothes, folding them neatly and setting them on a nearby chair.
Once undressed, Chloe kissed her, but didn’t resist as she laid her down into the bed. As soon as her head hit the pillow, she gave up her attempts to seduce her, instead clinging to her leg and Diana caught the barest mutter of, “Tomorrow, Diana of the Nice Eyebrows.” Smiling, Diana kissed her forehead and ran her fingers through Chloe’s short blond hair until her breathing steadied and her grip on her leg grew slack.
Diana planted another kiss on her forehead. Chloe had been fighting a battle unknown to Diana, an internal one that pulled at even her significant bravery, and she hadn’t even been aware. If she intended to grow this relationship, for it to be stronger than even hers with Sable, she would need to be more vigilant.
“I swear that I’ll never let you fight alone again,” Diana whispered, accenting her words with another kiss. For several long minutes, Diana continued to run her fingers through Chloe’s hair, appreciating the soft curves of her face, and several times repeating her words of resolution to be with her.
As she sat on the edge of the bed, a slow music drifted along the breeze from Chloe’s open window. The faint melody tugged at her memory as it lazily danced into the room. A… flute? she thought and then her stomach knotted as she recognized it. Why here? Why now? Diana glanced down at Chloe sleeping beside her. She had to get away.
In haste, she slipped out of her coral dress and donned her armor that she’d brought with her luggage. She flew out of the window, the Golden Lasso streaming to her side and once in the air, shot forward, following the music. She passed rows of small, sleepy farmhouses in the dead of night until a small copse of trees came into her vision, separating two large farms outside of town. The music grew louder as she landed on just one side of the trees, but it halted as he came into view.
Wisps of dark shadow streamed from under his helmet where crimson eyes followed her descent. An ebony flute with white etchings along its surface disintegrated into the shadow that flowed off of him. He stepped out from the trees and into the moonlight which glinted off of his burnished armor, but even the light dimmed as it shined out from him.
“Diana.” His low voice rumbled. Countless battles fought against this man flashed in her mind. Years of losses with never a single victory. “Thank you for coming to die."
 
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2017.03.08 05:59 sconce2600 I have compiled all the data from this sub and broken down who is out and who is still in play, I will update this list daily until the lineup is released.

Edit 4/4: The lineup has dropped, bold denotes acts playing
This is a list of acts that are potentially in and are most certainly out for OSLs 2017, I mostly stuck to notable names so that I only had to turn over hundreds of rocks rather than thousands. I intend to update this list via edit from now until the lineup drop (within 30 days at this point I should think). If you want to add someone to this list just comment below and I will modify the list and credit your handle next to the edit. If you want to find someone in particular quickly I suggest you use ctrl F.
Out due to gigs at AT&T Park/Levi's Stadium in San Francisco and Santa Clara CA (May through November)
Out due to gigs at the Oracle arena in Oakland CA (May through November)
Out due to gigs at the SAP Center in San Jose CA (May through November)
Out due to gigs at the Golden One Center in Sacramento CA (May through November)
Out due to gigs at Shoreline Amphitheatre in Mountain View CA (May through November)
Out due to gigs at the Concord Pavilion in Concord CA (May through November)
Out due to gigs at the Greek Theatre in Berkley CA (May through November)
Out due to gigs at Bill Graham Civic Auditorium in San Francisco CA (May through November)
Out due to gigs at the Masonic in San Francisco CA (May through November)
Out due to gigs at the Fox theater in Oakland CA (May through November)
Edit 4/3/17 (undeadsinatra) added: Out due to gigs at the Mountain Winery in Saratoga CA (May through November
Out due to gigs at the Warfield in San Francisco CA (May through November)
Out due to gigs at the Fillmore in San Francisco CA (May through November)
Out due to playing Bottlerock in Napa CA (May 26th-28th, this is just the first several lines)
Out due to playing Santa Cruz American music festival in Santa Cruz CA (May 27th & 28th)
Out due to playing Colossal Clusterfest in San Francisco CA (June 2nd-4th)
Out due to playing Phono Del Sol Music and Food Festival in San Francisco CA (June 17th)
Out due to playing Id1ot Fest in Mountain View CA (June 24th & 25th)
Out due to playing Burger Boogaloo in Oakland CA (July 1st & 2nd)
Out due to playing San Jose Jazz Summer Fest in San Jose CA (same weekend as OSLs)
Out due to playing Flow festival in Finland (same weekend as OSLs)
Out due to playing Boardmasters festival in the UK (same weekend as OSLs)
Out due to playing Way out West festival in Sweden (same weekend as OSLs)
Out due to playing Smukfest in Denmark (same weekend as OSLs)
Out due to playing Oya Festival in Norway (same weekend as OSLs)
Out due to playing SonneMondSterne Festival in Germany (same weekend as OSLs)
Out due to playing Boomtown Fair in the UK (same weekend as OSLs)
Out due to playing Haven Festival in Denmark (same weekend as OSLs)
Probably out due to Sziget Festival in Hungary (same weekend as OSLs, note that this festival is seven days long and therefore it is possible that some of the names below will make it to OSLs, we'll know more when the day by day breakdown comes out)
The following are acts that were in the first six lines of OSLs in 2015 and 2016 that are not already ruled out above and can safely be assumed out for this year.
Headliners
2016
2015
Others that are out
Edit 3/11/17 added: The following are acts that played bay area gigs the same year as an OSLs appearance
2016
2015
2014
Edit 3/13/17 added: The following is a list of returnees and the gaps between return performances
Headliners
No gap
Three year gap
Four year gap
Five year gap
Seven year gap
Eight year gap
The following are acts that are still in play that have been mentioned in this sub since January 1st, this does not mean that every name below is necessarily likely so much as not eliminated.
Potential Headliners
Potential Undercard
Edit 3/13/17 added: Past lineup drop dates:
Edit 3/27/17 added: Confirmations
Electric guest: Confirmed on 3/27/17 by A_lonerist https://www.reddit.com/OutsideLands/comments/61povt/electric_guest_confirmed/
Metallica: Confirmed on 3/29/17 by Ranger Dave and first reported by r-fitz_24 https://www.reddit.com/OutsideLands/comments/6290zj/osl_twitter_basically_confirmed_metallica/
Empire of the Sun Confirmed on 3/29/17 by Ranger Dave and first reported by 0kvn_prz0 https://www.reddit.com/OutsideLands/comments/5y60fc/i_have_compiled_all_the_data_from_this_sub_and/dfkrq94/?context=3
Sofi Tucker Confirmed on 3/29/17 by Ranger Dave and first reported by IrateDesperado https://www.reddit.com/OutsideLands/comments/62b3sw/new_hints_megathreadspeculation/dfl7nky/
Acts that were mentioned by no one that ended up on the lineup (in order of appearance)
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2013.09.11 10:43 tabledresser [Table] IAmA: I am movie critic and historian Leonard Maltin. Ask me ALMOST anything.

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Date: 2013-09-10
Link to submission (Has self-text)
Questions Answers
Be honest: what do you think of the Leonard Maltin game on Doug Loves Movies? Hi... I love DOUG LOVES MOVIES and I'm flattered that Doug built a game around my Movie Guide. I just wish I were a better player, when I go on the podcast...but nobody's perfect.
What advice do you have for a 15 year old girl whose life dream is being a professional movie critic? Hi... my advice is simply to DO IT, anywhere you can. If your community has a weekly shoppenewspaper, volunteer to write for it; these local publications are hungry for content and it's a great place to gain experience and possibly an audience. Of course, you can write to your heart's content online but the trick is building an audience, and that's where I think old-fashioned media can still be useful. It also teaches you certain disciplines, like meeting deadlines and space requirements. How someone gets a footing in this field professionally nowadays is a mystery I cannot solve. But the most important thing is to start writing and build from there.
Hello, Leonard! Fellow film critic here. How did you adapt to reviewing movies on screen? To what extent did you alter your style of prose? Did you have to structure your reviews so the film clips shown would be relevant? Did you have to narrow your focus to fewer elements to keep within the allotted time? Do you feel more suited to screen or print, and which medium do you think is better suited to film criticism? All right, now on to the important part of my post: The questions surrounding your guest appearance on Mystery Science Theater 3000. Do you know if you were purposely selected to appear in the episode on Gorgo, to which you notably gave a positive review, or was it a coincidence (with the references to your own opinions to the movie as an afterthought)? Did you agree to the role partially because you could plug your movie guide? Did you engage in any arguments with the cast and crew over movies, especially ones they covered previously and which you didn't feel deserved such treatment? Did you discuss references to you made in the previous episodes on Laserblast and The Undead? Hi... I underwent a learning curve to adapt my writing style to be heard, rather than read...and it took me time to get the hang of it. Now I find that all of my writing tends to be conversational in tone. As for MST3000 there isn't much to the story: they asked if I'd be willing to make a guest appearance, they suggested GORGO, which sounded like fun, and we taped it rather quickly here in Los Angeles without any real back-and-forth with the guys at home base. It was fun.
Has the internet helped or hindered film criticism? Or is it a little of both? Hi... I like the idea of people exchanging ideas, but too much of what I see online is merely name-calling and wiseguy remarks, which bear no resemblance to film criticism. On the other hand, the openness of the 'net has enabled a lot of intelligent and thoughtful people to express themselves, and that's good.
Thanks for doing this ama! My questions is did the creators of South Park offer you the role to play yourself in the Mecha-Streisand episode? Hi... no, I only found out about the SOUTH PARK appearance two weeks before it aired...and even that came from a press release, not from the show itself. But I was delighted with the result, and they still repeat that episode all the time. I even got to meet Isaac Hayes (Chef)some years later and hear him say my name out loud--in person.
Mr. Maltin. I just wanted to log on and comment because I took your Film Symposium class my senior year at SC 2 years ago. That really was a cool experience for someone who was a completely non-related major (economics) and surely one of the more diverse academic experiences I had as an undergraduate. It was truly eye opening to get a little bit of an insight into the film industry and some of the films we watched will definitely stick with me. (I've already showed so many other people Dale and Tucker v Evil) I guess the only questions I have are: 1) Do you plan on continuing the class at USC? 2) What has been the response of the industry insiders you bring to the lectures to addressing a crowd in that setting? Hi... I'm so glad you enjoyed the class. I'll keep teaching it as long as they'll have me. I love doing it, in part because I learn so much--from our guests and also from the students, who keep me on my toes. The response from the industry people who join us has been extremely positive. They're usually impressed with the level of questions the students ask. (I think our guests suffer through a lot of mediocre q&a sessions, and ours stands out by comparison) thanks for your kind words.
Do you think, as a critic, you have the ability to make or break a movie based on your experience of that movie? As films can mean very different things to many different people, how would you define the role of the critic? Hi... at one time (and it may still be true) the New York Times drama critic could make or break a new play, but this has never been true of film critics, as Roger Ebert agreed. If it were true, there never would have been a FRIDAY THE 13th PART TWO, let alone twenty years of sequels... and from the other side of the fence, the praise of critics for so many smaller, offbeat films would turn them into box-office hits. I wish we had more influence, but we do at least turn a few people on to worthy films they might otherwise miss. As for the role of a critic, at its best our work should make people think about the films they see. That's what I do when I read a really good essay by a critic I admire.
Do you ever find that your opinion of a movie changes over time, particularly in regard to movies that achieve cult status? It seems that some movies that are initially poorly received by critics can redeem themselves in the long run as they gain social acceptance, and I'm wondering if later viewings ever make you reconsider your original critique? Hi... yes, my opinion changes over time--as anyone's would, with a changing world and the ever-changing landscape of moviemaking. The problem is that I'm so busy seeing new films that I don't have a lot of time to revisit older ones. In a perfect world I would reassess every one of the 16,000 movies in my Movie Guide every year, but that's just not going to happen.
Hello Mr. Maltin, I know you are an avid fan of Buster Keaton. I saw The General and the Cameraman for the first time ever recently. I know his filmography is huge. Is there any essential Keaton viewing you would suggest for a newcomer to his work? And has there been anything Keaton related recently (exhibits, shows) you would recommend? Thanks a million. Hi... I'm so glad you've discovered Buster Keaton. To me, everything he did is worth seeing, because even in his weakest films he gives his all...and there's usually a nugget or two worth cherishing. But you certainly want to see his silent short subjects and every one of his silent starring features. Have fun! You might also check in at www.busterkeaton.com and become part of the Damfinos, a wonderful Keaton organization.
Hi Mr Maltin. Thanks for doing this AMA! Could you give us an idea of your typical day? How many movies do you watch on average per day? Hi... I don't have a "typical" day, as everything depends on the screening schedule here in Los Angeles. There are days I can spend at my home office, typing away, while other times I'm driving from one showing of a film to another. For the past four years I've also commuted to Albuquerque every other week to tape my show for Reelz Channel.
Mr. Maltin- what's your favorite category on Doug Loves Movies? Hi... I love the clever categories that fans send in. I don't have a talent for puns, so I admire people who do... like "Killem Dafoe," a list of films in which Willem Dafoe dies.
Hi Leonard, For the past ten years, my family has faithfully gone by your movie guide whenever we delve into a movie-watching experience. Thank you for that. My question is: Is there a movie that is near and dear to you, but you feel that not enough people have seen? Hi... thanks for using my Movie Guide so loyally! Every year there are movies I cherish that slip under the radar... it happens all the time. Two years ago I was very strong on SARAH'S KEY but it didn't make much of a dent with my fellow critics, or moviegoers, either. There are a couple of smaller films out there right now I'm championing like THE SPECTACULAR NOW and especially SHORT TERM 12.
When you review a movie, do you hold it against a set of standards or do you judge it in context? For example, no Michael Bay action flick is made to be an Oscar contender, it's just supposed to be mindless fun. Do you review it with that in mind, or do you pay attention for character and plot development, as well as meaningful dialogue? Hi... I try to take each film on its own terms, just as you suggest. One shouldn't expect HENRY V when you go to see a slasher movie. On the other hand, any movie should live up to its own standards: if it's a dumb teen comedy, I'd like it to be a GOOD dumb teen comedy. What bugs me about Michael Bay's movies is that they're so incredibly long and self-indulgent. Why should a TRANSFORMERS story take two hours and forty minutes to tell?
You were good friends with Roger Ebert, could you talk about your relationship professionally and personally and is there something you can share about Roger that we might not have ever known? Hi... I always liked Roger, but it was only when he put his newspaper backlog online that I got to read his reviews on a regular basis...and this made me admire him all the more. He was an extraordinary writer, and of course he had an unbelievable work ethic. I have no great insights to add... I certainly miss him.
Hi Mr Maltin, I enjoyed your book "The Disney Films" and "Of Mice and Magic" - I used to read those books from cover to cover as a kid and still occasionally reference them. I think the last Disney Films revision was in 2000, would you ever look to update it again? Also outside of Destino, do you know if there were ever any Disney Treasures planned that you know of, that were scrapped when Disney dropped it? Hi... thanks for your kind words about those books, which are near and dear to me. I may revise the Disney book some day, but on the other hand I feel that my covering Walt Disney's career from start to finish (and providing a brief overview of its aftermath) there's closure there. As for DESTINO, I participated in several "bonus features" for a proposed DVD release that never came about, sorry to say. The film, and a 90-minute documentary about it, do appear on the Blu-ray set for FANTASIA/FANTASIA 2000, but it's almost a state secret!
What do you mean historian? Can you elaborate? Hi... my first love was (and is) the history of film, and I've written a number of books on various aspects of the subject over the years, including THE DISNEY FILMS, THE CINEMATOGRAPHER'S ART: BEHIND THE CAMERA, THE GREAT MOVIE COMEDIANS, and others. I still love learning about the past--and how it affects the present.
Do you have an interest that people would be surprised by? Hi... I don't know if people would be surprised, or even care, but I do love jazz, and I've gotten to write about it from time to time. Way back in the 1970s I contributed articles and reviews to the VILLAGE VOICE and DOWNBEAT magazine. That was great fun. And I still host the annual Los Angeles Jazz Society's awards dinner every October.
If you could only watch one movie for the rest of your life, which movie would it be? Hi... if I had to boil it down to just one movie it would probably be CASABLANCA, my all-time favorite... though I do like to give it a rest every now and then, so that when I do revisit it I enjoy it with fresh eyes. That wouldn't be possible on that desert island, I know, but I'd probably get used to it.
Lately I've been watching a lot of "movies about movies" for lack of a better term. Things like "Tales From the Script" and "The Last Mogul." Any suggestions for fans of movies about the movie business? Hi... one of my favorite films about the movie business is fictional, but has the ring of truth: THE BAD AND THE BEAUTIFUL (1952), with Kirk Douglas as a ruthlessly ambitious filmmaker and Lana Turner as his leading lady. Awfully good. There's another documentary, off the beaten path, I'd urge you to see called PRISONER OF PARADISE (2002) about a German actor-writer-director who wound up in a concentration camp--where he was ordered to make a propaganda film praising it!
What are some of your favorite bad movies? (i must admit I have a soft spot for them) Hi... like a lot of movie buffs I enjoy tacky movies from the 50s like PLAN 9 FROM OUTER SPACE and ATTACK OF THE 50 FT. WOMAN. My problem with bad movies of recent vintage is that they're not fun--they're just bad!
Hello, Mr. Maltin! Thanks for doing this! I have always been curious what movie you have watched the most in your life? Maybe The Wild Bunch or The Bridge On The River Kwai? Maybe something silly like Caddyshack? Hi... because my job requires me to see new movies on a regular basis, I don't have as much time to revisit older films as I'd like... I rarely get to just relax and watch an old favorite, except if I stumble upon it while channel-surfing. But if I do stumble onto certain films I can't turn away--whether it be THE GODFATHER or any number of oldies on Turner Classic Movies. I should have a bumper sticker that reads "I brake for the Marx Brothers." I've probably seen their movies as much as any in my lifetime.
Hello Leonard, I'm a big fan. I was wondering, what film(s) influenced you to get into film? Hi... when I was growing up, television was a living museum of movies, and I would watch Laurel and Hardy, the Little Rascals and old cartoons every single day, plus Walt Disney's weekly show and the Mickey Mouse Club. All of these had a profound influence on me and still do, to this very day.
Roger Ebert hated the 1994 film North, but it's a childhood favorite. How do you feel about that one? Hi... I'm afraid I didn't like it--and I went in with high hopes. Sorry about that...
Hello Leonard, I've been a fan of your movie guide for the last decade and now its even an iphone app, but a lot of Christopher Nolan's films seem to be rated lower (Memento, Dark Knight, Inception, Prestige), I know not all the reviews in your book are directly from you but what do you think of Mr. Nolan's films? Hi... I must confess, I'm not a great fan of Nolan's work... I find him too self-serious for my taste. He's certainly talented but there's a pretentious streak that rubs me the wrong way.
Hi Mr. Maltin, First, I've been a fan and buyer of the paper copy of your book for the last 16 years. You have been one of the primary influences and reasons for my love of films. I have been doing film criticism non-professionally for a high-profile site (www.nextprojection.com) with over 80 pieces this year and would like to break into doing it professionally. Any suggestions on how to make a job out of this? Hi... as I said to another aspiring critic above, I don't know what prospects there are for making a living in this already-specialized field nowadays, with newspapers folding (and firing critics) and people who do have jobs clinging to them for dear life. The Internet is wide open, of course, but there aren't many established sites that pay a living wage and that's the real challenge. I've been awfully lucky in my career, but I'm not immune to these changes, and I'm glad I'm not starting out today. That said, if you love to write about movies, don't let anyone deter you--you just may have to do it as an avocation rather than a full-time job.
Hi Leonard, How are you? In your opinion, what is the worst Oscar win awarded over the last few years? Thanks! Hi... I think the Oscar voters have good taste, on the whole, but I don't always agree with their picks for Best Picture. The one that I disagreed with most, in recent years, would be A BEAUTIFUL MIND. But that's far from "worst."
Is the era of 'critics can make or break a movie' over? Hi... I answered a similar question below...but to repeat, critics never COULD make or break a movie. Rave reviews haven't made hits out of smaller films that critics love to champion, nor have bad reviews shut out a lot of terrible movies that go on to be hits.
What is the best film of 2013 so far? Hi... I think the best film this year, so far, is Jeff Nichols' MUD, an exceptional and bracingly original piece of work, with a fine cast and a great performance by Matthew McConaughey.
I use your app religiously, but was thinking about getting the 2014 movie guide this year. Are there any pros vs. cons with the app and book? Hi... I don't know if/when the people who produce the app are planning to update it with our new content... so for now, the book has a clear field. But I think it's a matter of which medium you prefer. Many longtime users like having the feel of a book in their hand, while others are more at home with a fingertip guide. The app does have some pretty great search features, I must admit.
I became a huge fan of yours from watching the Disney Treasures line of dvds, i always enjoy your insight and enthusiasm. Any idea why the Disney Treasures line ended? Do you think Walt's Disneyland tv series will every be released in season sets, or is that simply not practical? Hi... the Disney company gave me a golden opportunity for nine years with the Treasures series, so I can't complain. I wish we were still going... but even more, I wish they were doing something with their library, even online. They don't seem very motivated in that direction.
What is your opinion of the Leonard Maltin game as played by Doug Benson? Hi... as indicated above, I love the game and only wish I played it better!
Have you ever wanted to make a film and what genre would it be? Hi... I made some amateur movies when I was a kid but I could never scale my ideas to our limited capabilities--back in the days of 8mm silent film, no less. I'd still love to see someone make a film about the early days of silent moviemaking--which I did dream of doing long ago. A few people have come close, and Scorsese did a wonderful job evoking the work of Melies in HUGO...but I'd love to tackle old Hollywood in the days of Mack Sennett.
I am a teenager I am a teenager who wants to be a film director. I am constantly doing everything I can to see the most influential movies with the little time I have. So, I am constantly finding lists of "movies you must see" etc. What do you think of lists and do you recommend any for essential viewing? Hi... the more you see, the more you will learn. It's valuable to watch silent films to see how innovative they were--and how they told so much with images instead of words. It's important to see how smart, witty dialogue propelled films of the 1930s and 40s. It's interesting to see how genre films (Western, sci-fi) tackled serious subject matter in "code" during the 1950s. Just keep screening everything you can; it's bound to make you a better filmmaker youself.
What are your top 5 Three Stooges shorts? Hi... boy, that's tough, but off the top of my head: IN THE SWEEET PIE AND PIE, MICRO-PHONIES, AN ACHE IN EVERY STAKE, THREE LITTLE BEERS, and THREE SAPPY PEOPLE. So many to choose from!
I'm a big fan and just wanted to let you know from the ages 8-11(Now I use the app.) I carried your movie guide everywhere and spit out random movies to my parents constantly. I'd like to thank you for giving me decades of film knowledge in the span of a couple of years. Hi... and thank you for the lovely sentiments... which I greatly appreciate.
Last updated: 2013-09-15 08:04 UTC
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