#City to City Private Cab NY

[riversidecarlimo]

Experience the epitome of convenience with Riverside Car & Limo Service's Seamless City-to-City Private Car Service in NJ. Our expert drivers ensure a stress-free journey from one city to another, offering comfort and reliability every step of the way. Sit back, relax, and enjoy the ride with us. Book today!

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Big Telco’s fury over FCC plan to infuse telecoms policy with facts

I'll be at the Studio City branch of the LA Public Library on Monday, November 13 at 1830hPT to launch my new novel, The Lost Cause. There'll be a reading, a talk, a surprise guest (!!) and a signing, with books on sale. Tell your friends! Come on down!

Reality has a distinct anti-conservative bias, but conservatives have an answer: when the facts don't support your policies, just get different facts. Who needs evidence-based policy when you can have policy-based evidence?

Take gun violence. Conservatives tell us that "an armed society is a polite society," which means that the more guns you have, the less gun violence you'll experience. To prevent reality from unfairly staining this pristine ideological mind-palace with facts, conservatives passed the Dickey Amendment, which had the effect of banning the CDC from gathering stats on American gun-violence. No stats, no violence!

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dickey_Amendment

Policy-based evidence is at the core of so many cherished conservative beliefs, like the idea that queer people (and not youth pastors) are responsible for the sexual abuse of children, or the idea that minimum wages (and not monopolies) decrease jobs, or the idea that socialized medicine (and not private equity) leads to death panels:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/26/death-panels/#what-the-heck-is-going-on-with-CMS

The Biden administration features a sizable cohort of effective regulators, whose job is to gather evidence and then make policy from it:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/10/23/getting-stuff-done/#praxis

Fortunately for conservatives, not every Biden agency is led by competent, honest brokers – the finance wing of the Dems got to foist some of their most ghoulish members upon the American people, including a no-fooling cheerleader for mass foreclosure:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/03/06/personnel-are-policy/#janice-eberly

And these same DINOs reached across the aisle to work with Republicans to keep some of the most competent, principled agency leaders from being seated, like the remarkable Gigi Sohn, targeted by a homophobic smear campaign funded by the telco industry, who feared her presence on the FCC:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/03/19/culture-war-bullshit-stole-your-broadband/

The telcos are old hands at this stuff. Long before the gun control debates, Ma Bell had figured out that a monopoly over Americans' telecoms was a license to print money, and they set to corrupting agencies from the FCC to the DoJ:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/11/14/jam-to-day/

Reality has a vicious anti-telco bias. Think of Net Neutrality, the idea that if you pay an ISP for internet service, they should make a best effort to deliver the data you request, rather than deliberately slowing down your connection in the hopes that you'll seek out data from the company's preferred partners, who've paid a bribe for "premium delivery."

This shouldn't even be up for debate. The idea that your ISP should prioritize its preferred data over your preferred data is as absurd as the idea that a taxi-driver should slow down your rides to any pizzeria except Domino's, which has paid it for "premium service." If your cabbie circled the block twice every time you asked for a ride to Massimo's Pizza, you'd be rightly pissed – and the cab company would be fined.

Back when Ajit Pai was Trump's FCC chairman, he made killing Net Neutrality his top priority. But regulators aren't allowed to act without evidence, so Pai had to seek out as much policy-based evidence as he could. To that end, Pai allowed millions of obviously fake comments to be entered into the docket (comments from dead people, one million comments from @pornhub.com address, comments from sitting Senators who disavowed them, etc). Then Pai actively – and illegally – obstructed the NY Attorney General's investigation into the fraud:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/05/06/boogeration/#pais-lies

The pursuit of policy-based evidence is greatly aided by the absence of real evidence. If you're gonna fill the docket with made-up nonsense, it helps if there's no truthful stuff in there to get in the way. To that end, the FCC has systematically avoided collecting data on American broadband delivery, collecting as little objective data as possible:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/05/26/pandemic-profiteers/#flying-blind

This willful ignorance was a huge boon to the telcos, who demanded billions in fed subsidies for "underserved areas" and then just blew it on anything they felt like – like the $45 billion of public money they wasted on obsolete copper wiring for rural "broadband" expansion under Trump:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/02/27/all-broadband-politics-are-local/

Like other cherished conservative delusions, the unsupportable fantasy that private industry is better at rolling out broadband is hugely consequential. Before the pandemic, this meant that America – the birthplace of the internet – had the slowest, most expensive internet service of any G8 country. During the lockdown, broadband deserts meant that millions of poor and rural Americans were cut off from employment, education, health care and family:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/02/12/ajit-pai/#pai

Pai's response was to commit another $8 billion in public funds to broadband expansion, but without any idea of where the broadband deserts were – just handing more money over to monopoly telcos to spend as they see fit, with zero accountability:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/05/26/pandemic-profiteers/#flying-blind

All that changed after the 2020 election. Pai was removed from office (and immediately blocked me on Twitter) (oh, diddums), and his successor, Biden FCC chair Jessic Rosenworcel, started gathering evidence, soliciting your broadband complaints:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/03/23/parliament-of-landlords/#fcc

And even better, your broadband speed measurements:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/04/14/for-sale-green-indulgences/#fly-my-pretties

All that evidence spurred Congress to act. In 2021, Congress ordered the FCC to investigate and punish discrimination in internet service provision, "based on income level, race, ethnicity, color, religion, or national origin":

https://www.congress.gov/117/plaws/publ58/PLAW-117publ58.pdf

In other words, Congress ordered the FCC to crack down on "digital redlining." That's when historic patterns of underinvestment in majority Black neighborhoods and other underserved communities create broadband deserts, where internet service is slower and more expensive than service literally across the street:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/06/10/flicc/#digital-divide

FCC Chair Rosenworcel has published the agency's plan for fulfilling this obligation. It's pretty straightforward: they're going to collect data on pricing, speed and other key service factors, and punish companies that practice discrimination:

https://www.fcc.gov/document/preventing-digital-discrimination-broadband-internet-access

This has provoked howls of protests from the ISP cartel, their lobbying org, and their Republican pals on the FCC. Writing for Ars Technica, Jon Brodkin rounds up a selection of these objections:

https://arstechnica.com/tech-policy/2023/11/internet-providers-say-the-fcc-should-not-investigate-broadband-prices/

There's GOP FCC Commissioner Brendan Carr, with a Steve Bannon-seque condemnation of "the administrative state [taking] effective control of all Internet services and infrastructure in the US. He's especially pissed that the FCC is going to regulate big landlords who force all their tenants to get slow, expensive from ISPs who offer kickbacks to landlords:

https://www.fcc.gov/document/carr-opposes-bidens-internet-plan

The response from telco lobbyists NCTA is particularly, nakedly absurd: they demand that the FCC exempt price from consideration of whether an ISP is practicing discrimination, calling prices a "non-technical aspect of broadband service":

https://www.fcc.gov/ecfs/document/110897268295/1

I mean, sure – it's easy to prove that an ISP doesn't discriminate against customers if you don't ask how much they charge! "Sure, you live in a historically underserved neighborhood, but technically we'll give you a 100mb fiber connection, provided you give us $20m to install it."

This is a profoundly stupid demand, but that didn't stop the wireless lobbying org CTIA from chiming in with the same talking points, demanding that the FCC drop plans to collect data on "pricing, deposits, discounts, and data caps," evaluation of price is unnecessary in the competitive wireless marketplace":

https://www.fcc.gov/ecfs/document/1107735021925/1

Individual cartel members weighed in as well, with AT&T and Verizon threatening to sue over the rules, joined by yet another lobbying group, USTelecom:

https://www.fcc.gov/ecfs/document/1103655327582/1

The next step in this playbook is whipping up the low-information base by calling this "socialism" and mobilizing some of the worst-served, most-gouged people in America to shoot themselves in the face (again), to own the libs:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/12/15/useful-idiotsuseful-idiots/#unrequited-love

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/11/10/digital-redlining/#stop-confusing-the-issue-with-relevant-facts

Image: Japanexperterna.se (modified) https://www.flickr.com/photos/japanexperterna/15251188384/

CC BY-SA 2.0: https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0/

--

Mike Mozart (modified) https://www.flickr.com/photos/jeepersmedia/14325839070/

https://www.flickr.com/photos/jeepersmedia/14325905568/

https://www.flickr.com/photos/jeepersmedia/14489390566/

www.ccPixs.com https://www.flickr.com/photos/86530412@N02/8210762750/

CC BY 2.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/

[walks-the-ages]

Updated 4:16 AM EDT, Thu

May 18, 2023

CNN — Prince Harry and his wife Meghan were involved in a chaotic car chase with paparazzi in New York on Tuesday night that could have resulted in a “catastrophic” outcome, their spokesperson has alleged. The Sussexes were pursued by photographers after leaving the Women of Vision Awards at the city’s Ziegfeld Ballroom in a convoy that also included Doria Ragland, Meghan’s mother. The couple were left shaken by the incident, although ultimately no-one was hurt, their security detail told CNN. Police said “numerous” photographers made the Sussexes’ transport “challenging,” but that there were no reported collisions, injuries or arrests. According to couple’s account, the altercation with photographers was prolonged and risky. “Last night, The Duke and Duchess of Sussex and Ms. Ragland were involved in a near catastrophic car chase at the hands of a ring of highly aggressive paparazzi,” the couple’s spokesperson said. “This relentless pursuit, lasting over two hours, resulted in multiple near collisions involving other drivers on the road, pedestrians and two NYPD officers.” Two people involved with the couple’s security also described the incident as chaotic, with the paparazzi in numerous vehicles, including cars, scooters, mopeds and electrical bikes. The Sussexes had to switch cars during the chase, they say.

Thomas Buda, who runs a private security business contracted to help the couple, said the chase began the moment Harry and Meghan left the Ziegfeld Ballroom and lasted 90 minutes. Paparazzi wanted to find out where the couple was staying while they were in New York City, he said, and their vehicles ran red lights while pedestrians were in the crosswalks and drove into oncoming traffic on 34th Street in Manhattan, driving the wrong way down one-way streets, Buda said. Chris Sanchez, a member of the couple’s security team who spoke exclusively to CNN, said the incident was alarming. “I have never seen, experienced anything like this,” he said. “What we were dealing with was very chaotic.” The Sussexes were scared – but were relieved when they returned to the apartment where they were staying, he said. “The public were in jeopardy at several points. It could have been fatal,” Sanchez said. After what Buda described as an increasingly hazardous game of cat and mouse, security moved the Duke and Duchess to the 19th police precinct on East 67th street. From that location, a yellow taxi simply brought them around the block, back to the police station. Buda said the pair finally made their escape when the midnight shift of patrol officers turned out in their police cars to go out on patrol and effectively caused a chokepoint on the block that allowed security teams to get Harry and Meghan into traffic and away. The driver of that taxi, Sukhcharn Singh, spoke to CNN late Wednesday about the surreal experience he encountered. “I’ve been driving now since 2018, this was the first time I saw this. Other celebrities never got that much attention from the paparazzis,” he said, Singh recalled that after the the Duke and Duchess got in his cab – and before they could even tell him where to go – “all of a sudden the paparazzi just stormed the taxi. There’s flashes coming from every direction. They’re up against the car, taking pictures.” At one point, Singh said, a security guard in the cab with them got out to tell the paparazzi to move. Singh said that he didn’t personally feel in danger but the Duke and the Duchess appeared “very nervous.” “The look on their faces, you could tell that they were nervous and scared,” Singh recalled.

After a ten minute ride, Singh dropped Harry and Meghan at the 19th precinct in Manhattan. He told CNN that they gave him $50.00 for the ride, though the fare was just $17.50. Reckless driving In a statement, the New York Police Department (NYPD) confirmed the outline of the Sussexes’ account but described it in less colorful language. The NYPD “assisted the private security team protecting the Duke and Duchess of Sussex” on Tuesday evening and “there were numerous photographers that made their transport challenging,” said Julian Phillips, the NYPD’s deputy commissioner for public information. “The Duke and Duchess of Sussex arrived at their destination and there were no reported collisions, summonses, injuries, or arrests in regard,” he said. The couple’s spokesperson said that while “being a public figure comes with a level of interest from the public, it should never come at the cost of anyone’s safety” and urged the media not to publish photographs from the incident. “Dissemination of these images, given the ways in which they were obtained, encourages a highly intrusive practice that is dangerous to all in involved.” According to the account provided by the couple’s team, the incident involved around half a dozen blacked-out vehicles with unidentified people driving recklessly and endangering the convoy and everyone around them. Doria Ragland, the Duke of Sussex and the Duchess of Susseex at the Women of Vision Awards in New York City. Doria Ragland, the Duke of Sussex and the Duchess of Susseex at the Women of Vision Awards in New York City. Kevin Mazur/Getty Images A local law enforcement source corroborated some of the couple’s account, telling CNN that the couple were followed by a “swarm” of paparazzi in cars, motorcycles, scooters after they left the event on Tuesday. A protective team from the New York Police Department (NYPD) followed Harry and Meghan in another car, and was forced to make some avoiding maneuvers to get away from the paparazzi, the source said. Paparazzi on scooters and bikes zoomed down the sidewalk to keep up, the source said. There were many close calls, including short stops between front and backs of cars, but none resulted in a crash, the source added. The couple’s convoy was escorted to a police precinct, where they were able to regroup, the source added. Both King Charles’ Buckingham Palace and Prince William’s Kensington Palace told CNN they would not be commenting on the incident. Mayor condemns ‘reckless’ paparazzi The mayor of New York City, Eric Adams said the incident was “reckless” and “irresponsible.” “You shouldn’t be speeding anywhere, but this is a densely populated city, and I think all of us, I don’t think there’s many of us who don’t recall how his mom died,” Adams told reporters when asked about the incident at an unrelated briefing. “It’s clear that the paparazzi want to get the right shot, they want to get the right story, but public safety must always be at the forefront,” Adams said. The Duke of Sussex has been vocal about the security of his family, often highlighting parallels between his wife’s treatment to that faced by his mother, Diana. The late Princess of Wales died in 1997 after suffering internal injuries resulting from a high-speed car crash in Paris. In the couple’s Netflix six-part docuseries Harry pushed back against critics who have said the couple has a problem with paparazzi. “Back in my mum’s day, it was physical harassment – cameras in your face, following you, chasing you,” he said. “Paparazzi still harass people,” he added. “But the harassment really exists more online now. Once the photographs are out and the stories then put next to it, then comes the social media harassment. To see another woman in my life, who I love, go through this feeding frenzy – that’s hard. It is basically the hunter versus the prey.”

[zoomcab]

What Are the Best Transportation Options in Niagara Falls, NY?

Planning a trip to transportation in niagara falls ny, NY? This destination attracts millions each year for its stunning natural beauty and thrilling attractions. As you arrive, you’ll want a transportation plan to make your visit enjoyable and stress-free. From airport transfers and taxis to shuttles and buses, this guide will help you discover all the transportation options available in Niagara Falls, NY, with a special focus on the reliable services provided by Zoom Cab.

1. Getting to Niagara Falls, NY: Airport Transfers

If you’re flying in, airport transfers are the first step in getting to Niagara Falls from nearby airports. The two primary options are:

Buffalo Niagara International Airport (BUF): About 30 minutes from Niagara Falls, BUF is the closest major airport. It’s the most common arrival point for visitors.

Niagara Falls International Airport (IAG): Located just a few minutes from the city, IAG offers a convenient option for travelers on direct routes.

Best Transportation Options from Airports:

Zoom Cab Airport Shuttle: Offering direct, private shuttles from BUF and IAG, Zoom Cab is a hassle-free choice for airport transfers. With prompt pickups and drop-offs, you’ll avoid the wait and head straight to your destination.

Rideshares: Uber and Lyft operate in the area, though prices can vary, especially during peak travel hours.

Public Transit: NFTA (Niagara Frontier Transportation Authority) buses provide affordable transportation from BUF to Niagara Falls, though it may require transfers and extra time.

2. Local Taxi Services in Niagara Falls, NY

Taxis are an ideal way to navigate the area if you’re looking for convenience, speed, and comfort.

Zoom Cab’s Taxi Service: Zoom Cab operates a reliable, 24/7 taxi service with licensed drivers who know Niagara Falls well, providing prompt pickups and comfortable rides to your chosen attractions.

Benefits of Choosing a Taxi: Taxis provide door-to-door service, which is helpful if you’re traveling with family, have luggage, or simply want to avoid waiting at bus stops or parking.

3. Rideshares and On-Demand Transportation

Rideshare services like Uber and Lyft are also available in Niagara Falls, NY. However, rideshares have some considerations:

Availability: Rideshares are convenient but may experience delays during busy times, such as weekends or peak tourist seasons.

Pricing: Surge pricing is common during high-demand times, which can make rideshares more expensive than taxis.

Zoom Cab vs. Rideshare: Zoom Cab’s competitive rates are fixed, so you don’t have to worry about price fluctuations. For reliable and affordable transport, a taxi or shuttle from Zoom Cab is a smart choice.

4. Public Transportation Options in Niagara Falls

For budget-conscious travelers, public transportation can be a convenient option. Niagara Falls is served by the NFTA, which offers routes through Niagara County and into Buffalo.

NFTA Buses: The Niagara Frontier Transportation Authority (NFTA) provides bus services that connect Niagara Falls with surrounding towns and Buffalo. While buses are affordable, they operate on set schedules that may not be convenient for every itinerary.

Cost and Accessibility: NFTA buses are a low-cost option, though navigating the area by bus requires planning ahead, especially during weekends or off-peak hours.

5. Private Shuttle Services for Groups and Special Events

Private shuttles are ideal if you're traveling with a large group, planning an event, or have special requirements. They offer direct service and flexible scheduling.

Zoom Cab’s Private Shuttles: Zoom Cab provides private shuttle services that can be tailored to your specific needs, whether for airport transfers, corporate events, or weddings. Shuttle services offer a more comfortable and direct option for group transportation.

Benefits of Shuttle Services: Shuttles are perfect for day trips, wine tours, or event transportation, with drivers who can help plan efficient routes.

6. Renting a Car for Your Stay

Renting a car is an option if you want complete control over your schedule. However, parking around Niagara Falls attractions can be challenging, and rental costs can add up.

Rental Locations: Car rental companies such as Enterprise, Hertz, and Budget operate in Niagara Falls and nearby airports.

Considerations: Parking fees and availability can be issues at popular sites. To avoid parking challenges, consider Zoom Cab’s taxi or shuttle service as a more convenient and affordable alternative.

7. Biking and Walking Around Niagara Falls

If you enjoy outdoor activities, biking or walking around Niagara Falls can be a great way to see the area’s natural beauty up close.

Biking: Biking is popular in Niagara Falls, with bike rentals available at locations near Niagara Falls State Park. Pedal along scenic routes and enjoy views of the waterfalls and river.

Walking Tours: The city has pedestrian-friendly areas, especially around Niagara Falls State Park. Guided walking tours provide an in-depth look at the area’s history and attractions.

8. Visiting Niagara Falls Attractions: Best Transport Options

Some of the most popular attractions in Niagara Falls are easily accessible via taxi, rideshare, or public transit. Below are some recommended options for each key location:

Niagara Falls State Park: Easily accessible by Zoom Cab or NFTA buses, this park is the most popular attraction, with many visitors opting for taxis to avoid parking.

Whirlpool State Park: Located a bit farther out, this scenic area is best reached by taxi or private shuttle for convenience.

Old Fort Niagara: Located in Youngstown, NY, about 20 minutes from the Falls, this historic site is a great option for a day trip with Zoom Cab’s shuttle or taxi service.

9. Cross-Border Transportation to Canada

If you're planning to visit the Canadian side of Niagara Falls, remember that you’ll need proper identification to cross the border.

Zoom Cab Cross-Border Service: Zoom Cab provides transportation services that take you smoothly across the border. The drivers are experienced with border regulations and can make the process as seamless as possible.

Requirements for Border Crossing: You’ll need a valid passport or other approved ID. Zoom Cab’s cross-border services make it easy to reach Canadian attractions like Clifton Hill and the Niagara Fallsview Casino Resort.

10. Why Zoom Cab Is the Best Choice for Transportation in Niagara Falls, NY

When it comes to navigating Niagara Falls, NY, Zoom Cab stands out for its reliability, affordability, and variety of services tailored to meet the needs of all travelers.

24/7 Availability: Zoom Cab offers around-the-clock service, so you’re always covered, whether you need an early morning airport shuttle or a late-night ride.

Experienced, Local Drivers: With friendly, knowledgeable drivers, Zoom Cab ensures you’ll reach your destination safely and quickly.

Transparent Pricing: With competitive rates, Zoom Cab provides an affordable alternative to rideshares, especially during peak times when surge pricing may apply.

Customized Shuttle Services: For group events, Zoom Cab’s shuttles offer flexible, direct transportation to ensure everyone travels comfortably.

Whether you need a quick ride to Niagara Falls State Park or a shuttle to Buffalo Niagara International Airport, Zoom Cab has a transportation solution to fit your needs.

Conclusion

With the many transportation options available in Niagara Falls, NY, visitors have flexibility in choosing the best way to explore this breathtaking area. Whether you prefer the convenience of taxis, the affordability of buses, or the personalized service of private shuttles, Zoom Cab offers reliable solutions to make your trip stress-free. So go ahead and plan your itinerary, knowing you have a trustworthy transportation service to get you wherever you need to go. Visit Zoom Cab today to book your ride and enjoy a hassle-free visit to Niagara Falls, NY.

Frequently Asked Questions (FAQs)

What’s the best way to get around Niagara Falls, NY? Taxis, private shuttles, and rideshares are convenient ways to explore the area, with Zoom Cab offering 24/7 availability.

Are airport shuttles available to Niagara Falls? Yes, Zoom Cab provides shuttle services from nearby airports like Buffalo Niagara International Airport and Niagara Falls International Airport.

Can I take a taxi to the Canadian side of Niagara Falls? Yes, Zoom Cab offers cross-border transportation to the Canadian side, provided you have the necessary documents.

Is public transit available in Niagara Falls? Yes, NFTA buses serve the area, though their schedules may be limiting. Taxis and rideshares offer more flexibility.

How much does a taxi cost in Niagara Falls? Taxi fares vary by distance, but Zoom Cab offers competitive rates for local rides.

Do I need a passport to visit the Canadian side? Yes, a valid passport or similar ID is required to cross the border into Canada

[rankertopgoogle]

Private Taxi Service in Buffalo

Convenient and Reliable: Booking Your Sam Buffalo Airport Taxi Online to Niagara Falls in New York

Airport Taxi Book Online to Niagara Falls - When it comes to seamless travel experiences, the last thing you want is to worry about transportation. In the vibrant state of New York, specifically in the city of Buffalo, navigating your way from the airport to the breathtaking Niagara Falls has never been easier. Thanks to Sam Taxi Service, you can now book your airport taxi online, ensuring a stress-free and efficient journey from Sam Buffalo Airport to the iconic Niagara Falls.

Heading to the fall? Here's why Sam Taxi Service is your go-to choice:

At Sam Buffalo Airport taxi service, we offer quality corporate. Services across the entire buffalo NY, and Canada area at reasonable prices Buffalo Airport Taxi Book Online to Niagara Falls

Book Taxi Online Buffalo: Sam Taxi Service simplifies your travel plans with its user-friendly online booking system. From the comfort of your home or on-the-go, you can effortlessly reserve your taxi to Niagara Falls through their website: Samtaxiservice.com. The intuitive interface guarantees a hassle-free booking process, saving you time and ensuring a prompt confirmation.

Booking Taxi Online from Buffalo: Arriving at Sam Buffalo Airport? Say goodbye to long waits and uncertainty. With Sam Taxi Service, your pre-booked taxi will be ready and waiting to pick you up promptly. Experience the convenience of a reliable transportation service that values your time and prioritizes your comfort.

Private Taxi Service in Buffalo: The journey from the airport to Niagara Falls is not just about reaching your destination; it's about the experience. Sam Taxi Service takes pride in its team of professional and courteous drivers who go the extra mile to ensure your ride is safe, comfortable, and enjoyable. Feel at ease knowing you're in the hands of skilled drivers who know the ins and outs of the route.

Buffalo Airport Taxi Service: Budget-conscious travelers will appreciate Sam Taxi Service's commitment to transparency and competitive pricing. No hidden fees, no surprises – just a straightforward fare structure that allows you to plan your travel expenses accurately. Trust in a service that values honesty and integrity in every transaction.

Buffalo Airport Taxi Services: Whether your flight arrives late at night or in the early hours of the morning, Sam Taxi Service operates around the clock to accommodate your schedule. Enjoy the peace of mind that comes with a 24/7 service, ensuring you always have a reliable transportation option, regardless of your arrival time.

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[fallmutual]

i meant to take a good picture of this article hung up in the queue for the amazing adventures of spider-man, but alas, i did not. best i could find was a moment of semi-clear footage in this video. hopefully i’ll go back again someday and be able to take the good picture i want, but for now, i’m going to try transcribing the text as best i can with it being so blurry.

transcription under the cut:

SCREAM, NY! SCREAM! SYMEIOTE [sic] MAKES THINGS HAIRY IN MANHATTAN! By Remy Coup Staff Writer

NEW YORK CITY — The alien symbiote known only as Scream attacked and destroyed several blocks of downtown Manhattan last night in an unrelenting rampage that was only held at bay by the valiant efforts of Spider-Man.

The barrage began shortly after dark as Scream used her superhuman strength and ambidextrous locks of hair to wreak havoc on local merchants, cab drivers, and pedestrians as she made her way uptown. Police were at a lose to speculate on her motives.

“You got me stymied,” said Office Eric Parr, scratching his head in bafflement. “I mean she’s just a fruitcake.”

The random targets of Scream’s rage seemed to bear out Office Parr’s assessment. Scream destroyed a plate glass window at “Wiggles ’N’ Beer,” threw a telephone pole through the front door of “Fish for Less,” and pulled out the entire foundation of a family restaurant called “Eat It Up.”

Scream’s wild adventured continued unfettered by police attempts to restrain her, and seemed all but unstoppable until the arrival of New York’s own private hero, Spider-Man.

“Oh yeah, Spider-Man got knocked for a loop,” Officer Parr laughed. “He got his red and blue hiney[?] kicked but[?] good. But he didn’t give up.. No matter how angry she got, he just kept on bouncing back.”

Spider-Man and Scream’s violent confrontation carried them further uptown, nearly destroying a small ice-cream stand.

“They nearly destroyed my ice-cream stand!” said Gene Nollman, owner of the Lil’ Melty ice-cream stand. “This here’s my livelihood, you know. I can’t have no costumed koo-koos destroying my livelihood.”

Spider-Man finally gained the upper

Continued on Page A5 The Alien Symbiote “Scream” Wreaks Havoc Throughout Manhattan Photo by Peter Parker

[locallocksmithnewyork]

New York NY - The City That Never Sleeps

Located where the Hudson River meets the Atlantic Ocean, New York is one of the world's largest cities. It is home to the Empire State Building and sprawling Central Park, among other iconic sites.

Yellow cabs

Getting around New York City can be a breeze, especially with yellow taxis. These vehicles can get you anywhere in the five boroughs. You can get a ride by street hailing or calling in advance. They are the only vehicles with the right to pick up passengers in New York City.

Yellow cabs are a staple of New York City's private car transportation industry. Before the pandemic, 10,500 of these vehicles were in the streets on a daily basis. But the number has since dropped to just 13,587.

While yellow cabs have been around for many years, the industry has been faced with headwinds due to the rise of ride-hailing apps. However, they still make up 80 percent of all taxi medallions issued by the city.

Skyscrapers

Almost everyone knows about New York City's iconic skyline. The city has over 6,000 high rise buildings. These buildings make New York a prime location for luxury buildings.

The Empire State Building is one of the most iconic buildings in the world. This 102-story building is located in Midtown Manhattan. It is one of the tallest buildings in the western world.

The New York Times building is a 52-story glass and steel Midtown office tower. It is the eighth tallest structure in the city. This building has garnered positive feedback for its natural lighting and sustainability features. The building was designed by "starchitect" Renzo Piano.

The Bank of America Tower is also located in Midtown. It is 58 stories high and located between 42nd and 43rd Streets. This building has over 2 million square feet of office space. The building has achieved Platinum LEED Certification.

Famous districts

Known as the melting pot of the world, New York has many famous districts. It is home to some of the world's largest cultural centers, as well as the largest commercial centers.

The Upper East Side, for instance, is a quaint district that is known for its stately buildings and wide avenues. It is packed with museums, and offers a wide range of restaurants. It is a great place to visit, particularly at weekends.

The Flatiron District is an old part of Manhattan, and it has transformed into a hip art district. It is home to the Flatiron Building, an iconic triangular-shaped skyscraper. It is also home to several chic restaurants, as well as many galleries.

Cigar smoking in public places

Despite the fact that smoking is not commonplace in New York, there are some restrictions on where you can smoke in the state.

First, the Clean Indoor Air Act of 2003 bans smoking in indoor public spaces. That includes hospitals, malls, and museums. In addition, a local excise tax of $1.50 per pack of cigarettes is a bit on the low side.

Second, the New York City smoking ban covers much more than just public beaches and parks. For example, smoking is prohibited in marinas and recreational centers.

Finally, smoking is banned in sidewalks adjacent to parks. The law also prohibits smoking in playgrounds, except when there are children present. It is also prohibited in parks within residential property lines.

Infrastructural improvements

'The City That Never Sleeps', New York, NY has a complex ground transportation system, and infrastructure improvements are needed to sustain the growth of the city. It is estimated that deteriorating roads, airports, and school buildings represent some of the city's biggest vulnerabilities.

The American Society of Civil Engineers scored NYC infrastructure at mediocre or below in 11 categories. New York State and City officials will likely need to reassess intrastate infrastructure in the near future.

One of the major vulnerabilities of New York State is its aging water infrastructure. Many predominantly rural areas are underserved. New York State utilities are among the oldest in the nation.

Michael Jordan

Having Michael Jordan in New York would have changed the balance of power in the NBA. The Knicks had not won a championship in twenty years.

The team added a great new shooter in James Borrego, who would later count up 13 points in the last quarter of an NBA Finals game. But, they also threw in a gimmick, a reserve point guard with a chip on his shoulder.

The Knicks also had an intrepid CEO in the form of Dave Checketts, who was at least as smart as the player he served. The New York Knicks are among the most legendary franchises in the NBA.

Locksmith

Whether you are moving into a new home, or simply need to change your lock, a locksmith  midtown Manhattan can help. Locksmiths are professionals who are trained in the installation, repair, and adjustment of all types of locks. They also offer a wide range of services, such as high-security lock systems, intercom systems, and key control systems.

Locksmith Manhattan can also help you move into a new home or office. They can also install keyless access control systems, security gates, and fingerprint locks. They can also create new keys or remotes for your existing system.

Your Local Locksmith 554 West 50th Midtown New York, NY 10019 (347) 801-2481 https://www.yourlocksmithny.com/

[sloanexml]

Not everyone can say they’ve been to the Big Apple, but SLOANE MORRISON-LOCKE, a THIRTY-EIGHT year-old CIS FEMALE has lived in CHELSEA, MANHATTAN for 3 YEARS. This is the city of dreams and SHE knows it, because they came to NYC to be a PHYSICAL THERAPIST. Well, that and as a GRIEF COUNSEL FRIEND to NIA TINDEL. Living in the city means they meet all kinds of people, but everyone always seems to think they look like TIKA SUMPTER. They even got away with free cab fare once because of it!  [L, 23, she/her/hers, cst, n/a]

GENERAL INFORMATION

FULL NAME: Sloane Alexis Morrison-Locke NICKNAME(S): Sloane, Lo, Ona(oh-na) AGE: Thirty-eight DATE OF BIRTH: April 9 GENDER & PRONOUNS: Cis Female & She/her ORIENTATION: Heterosexual OCCUPATION: Physical Therapist RESIDENTIAL: Chelsea, Manhattan

APPEARANCE

FACE CLAIM: Tika Sumpter SCARS: N/A TATTOOS: One mid back PIERCING: Ears, belly, and cartilage LABEL NAME: ENNEAGRAM: 2 - The Supportive Advisor

                                                     ABOUT

Sloane has always craved love, in every way shape or form. She wasn’t particularly lacking, but it never appeared in the ways she wanted growing up. Maybe that’s where her slight obsession with it came from, though it was more apparent as she reached her college years.

Originally from Minnesota, Stillwater to be exact, she always knew she would leave the state. Though that was more what she said when winter came and she was donning boots and layers on top of layers just to leave the house for school. Snow specifically was never something she enjoyed, she was destined for Hawaii or somewhere warm with a nice beach. Her parents would always respond that Minnesota had beaches as well.

After finishing high school, for a minute she found bliss, abandoning the cold to obtain her under grad in Texas. Her love of country could be traced from there. For as long as she cared, she had been a firm belief in partaking in what the locals of the city she was in did. 

She’s still not sure how she ended up in NY, as if they don’t also get snow. Maybe that’s why she basically hibernates come snow. It’s either that or donning and stripping layers and hibernation seems so much more simple. She’ll show up to things she deems important but otherwise she stays in her home where it’s warm.

She didn’t come from a rich family, they weren’t rich… but they were fine. It was never a problem for her not until she started going to a private school a realized her family just didn’t compare to the kids around her. She never blamed her parents, but she couldn’t stand the constant comparison. That’s when she decided to pursue something that would make her money and something faster.

Although she started PT school primarily to make money; being a doctor takes too long and business is far from her thing, she actually enjoyed PT. She enjoyed being a travelling PT a few years after graduating. She loves the fact that she essentially has a better schedule than most people and the fact that she can work in multiple places and have different sources of income.

Money had been a sore spot in her life for many years after school. Whether it was the incredible difficulty of balancing finally having a salary and the desire to buy whatever made her happy, and balancing adult responsibilities as a new grad and years of debt. Going back to school for her PhD wasn’t the best decision financially, but it has taken her farther than she could’ve without it.

Sloane is loyal to an extent. Loyalty, love and trust are intertwined to her. As long as she loves you, she will be loyal to you and trust you with her heart but if you break either of those things, she will have to take a step back and reevaluate.

Loves gossip but lets things about her best friends fall on deaf ears. Call it peaceful ignorance. Or straight up lying to herself but this is how she’s survived so far.

Occasionally, Sloane tends to involve herself in single people’s business, even if they don’t invite her to. As a result, she can often be seen trying to matchmake people. Everyone should have love.

The first couple Sloane ever paired together didn’t work. Okay the first few couples, but it was middle school and what did they know about what was good for them. They would’ve worked if they tried. One actually did end up getting married later and regardless of what they say, Sloan takes credit.

Children have always been a part of her life, but her focus on what seems like everyone else but herself has left her with one secret child, and the yearning for more. If Sloane were honest, even at where she is now, the desire to have children seems to have grown.

Her home library is full of books she hasn’t yet read but plans to read but never gets too and she continues to buy more. Her closet is full of clothes she hasn’t had enough excuses to wear.

FULL BIO 

(coming eventually, maybe)

[amir-icle]

Not everyone can say they’ve been to the Big Apple, but  Amir Virani, a 30 year-old cismale has lived in Bushwick, Brooklyn for 30 years. This is the city of dreams and he knows it, because they came to NYC to be a receptionist. Well, that and as a Receptionist to Diana Wright. Living in the city means they meet all kinds of people, but everyone always seems to think they look like Dev Patel. They even got away with free cab fare once because of it!

BIRTHNAME: Amir Virani

ALIAS: @amirplays on Twitch

DOB: June 24th 1991

ORIGIN: Brooklyn, NY

RESIDENCE: Brooklyn, NY

OCCUPATION: Receptionist at a Private Paediatric Clinic

FAMILY: Gaurav Virani (father, deceased)

Amisha Virani (mother, 56)

Unnamed Sister (?)

POSITIVE TRAITS: honest, thoughtful, creative

NEGATIVE TRAITS: naive, awkward, shy

FAVOURITE SONG: Talking to the Moon by Bruno Mars

A NOTE ON THE ADMINISTRATION

tw: death

amir’s life had always been straight forward. he was never one for thinking outside of the box, he took things at face value and did all the things that he was supposed to do. he was happy that way, secure in a future that he thought he had. he was also a big believer in taking his time - always walking the long way back from school, never staying up late to finish whatever he had to do. he didn’t have many friends, but he was content in his ways.

it wasn’t until his father died unexpectedly when amir was thirteen that his outlook changed. he’d lived his life so far with limited responsibility - his father had always been stringent in making sure his children were never fully aware of the financial and personal struggles they were having. they were problems reserved for a man and his wife. overnight, the dynamic shifted and amir became the man of the house. his mother distanced herself and became a ghost. 

slow wasn’t an option any more. 

amir adapted to the role quickly, helping his mother with the store they owned and making sure his little sister had everything she needed. when it came time to decide whether or not to go to college, amir was hesitant. that had always been the path he thought he was destined for, but supporting his family as his mother continued to recede deeper into her own sadness? the choice was easy. 

for a while, he did lie about taking community college classes to his mother, but in time she stopped asking, knowing fine well that he was really picking up odd jobs to make ends meet. permanent jobs were difficult to come by. no one seemed keen to hire the young man just because, as he decided to make his leading attribute, he has a pretty good score on the SAT. 

a few years ago, however, he answered an ad for a paediatric clinic in need of an administrative assistant. a few embellished little lies about how he’d love to be a paediatrician some day - and this one stuck. 

although it can’t be said that amir is particularly good at his job, the kids and parents love his quiet charisma just enough for him to be a pretty good asset to the clinic. 

POTENTIAL CONNECTIONS

roommate! (0/1)

sister!  (0/1)

friends! (0/?)

tbd

[bigskydreaming]

Since I think a lot of people don’t know this - its actually a very, very, VERY long-running and consistent plot point in EVERY version of DC continuity that Dick Grayson has always made a point not to touch any money from Bruce unless there’s literally no other option and its not even for himself. Like, this is a BIG deal to him.

You know how Dick makes a huge deal about being Nightwing instead of Batman, and wanting to be his own man, and have things on his own terms instead of only being what Bruce made him or taught him or gave him? Like, its literally the same thing here. Dick is generally pretty consistent in the things he does.

So when Dick and Bruce were on the outs after Dick moved out and became Nightwing? Dick lived off the same funds as the rest of the Titans. When Dick moved to Bludhaven, he had a 9-5 job as a cop *shudders but forever blames right-wing Chuck Dixon for that, it wasn’t Dick’s fault* and when he moved to NY after Bludhaven was destroyed, he worked as a gymnastics instructor. When Dick bought Haly’s Circus, he explicitly did so with the money he’d gotten in the settlement from his parents’ wrongful death suit against Zucco’s estate, and he lost all of that money when his circus was destroyed by Firefly, on Blockbuster’s orders.

The only time Dick has EVER been shown living in any kind of luxury after moving out when he was a teenager (under eighteen for the record), was when he lived in the Wayne penthouse with Damian and Alfred, and operated out of it as Batman, in Morrison’s Batman & Robin run. And like, this was pretty much just for Damian’s sake, and because Alfred was living with them too, and because he literally couldn’t operate as Batman the same way as he had as Nightwing, just out of his own loft apartment. Not to mention he was expected to operate as the CEO of Wayne Enterprises in the wake of Bruce’s ‘death,’ even though as he consistently reminded people, he never ever ever wanted anything to do with the company. And its not really a coincidence that one of the first things Dick did as Batman was pack up the Batcave, close up Wayne Manor, and move into a considerably smaller location.

In the New 52, once AGAIN he was explicitly shown purchasing Haly’s Circus with his own money, his inheritance from the suit brought against the Zucco’s for his parents’ murder. This time around, it was an even BIGGER deal, because in the first arc of the new Nightwing series, when his family’s connections to the Court of Owls was revealed and three of his childhood friends who had stayed with the circus and thus been trained as assassins all turned on him and tried to kill him, no big deal there right.....like, the circus was wrecked in a big opening night event Dick was a guest at. So in the next arc, Dick decided he wanted to try and repair the circus, and he also wanted to do something for Gotham in general. He worked with Lucius Fox to present every bank in the city with a proposal for loans/funding to buy Amusement Mile, the destroyed ruins of what had once been the entertainment center of Gotham twenty or thirty years ago, at Gotham’s height, and he wanted to have Haly’s Circus stay in town as a permanent fixture at the heart of it. He explicitly said it was his way of trying to bring a little light back to Gotham and make a cheap, affordable way for all the city’s citizens to have a regular place to visit or gather for fun and family bonding, etc.

Every single bank in town rejected his proposal, because he specifically didn’t want to go to Bruce for the money or Wayne Enterprises, and because Dick himself was considered too high a risk because of everything that had happened with the circus in the previous arc. No one wanted to fund what they figured would be a losing venture. So, instead of going to Bruce for the money, STILL, Dick instead asked Lucius to go back to the banks and tell them he’d personally commit EVERY SINGLE CENT he had from his parents’ wrongful death suit, if a lender would match it.

Guess who the ONLY lender that would match it was? The bank run by Sonia Zucco, the freaking DAUGHTER of the very man who’d murdered Dick’s parents. And Dick STILL TOOK THE DEAL.

(Which for the record, resulted in the circus being targeted and burned down AGAIN in the very NEXT arc, this time by the Joker, who also murdered two of Dick’s childhood friends still left with the Circus, one of whom had been the one Dick personally worked with to try and get everyone to stay in Gotham. So, y’know. Just mentioning that).

But yeah, also, also, Dick is the only kid in the Batfamily (other than in YJ where he attended Gotham Academy) who attended public school, at his OWN insistence. In Robin: Year One, back in the pre-Reboot continuity, he fights Bruce on this when he’s still only like nine years old, because he refuses to go to a stuffy private academy if he can’t be homeschooled like he was when he was living with the circus. Additionally, he remains the only kid in the Batfamily who has CONSISTENTLY held down a regular 9-5 job, working in college and his early Nightwing years as a bartender, then a cop, then a gymnastics teacher, most recently a cab driver as Ric Grayson.....like, he doesn’t live off Bruce’s money. He refuses to. Always has. Its a thing with him. A really, really big thing.

So just saying, please don’t write Dick Grayson as some spoiled rich kid just because through no choice of his own he grew up in Wayne Manor either from the age of eight, ten, twelve or sixteen, depending on what timeline you’re referring to. (Especially if its just to make some kind of pissing contest between him and Jason and show how Dick has no idea ‘how the other half lives’ and is so privileged and out of touch, please, I am TIRED, that is not a THING with them, it has NEVER been a THING with him, because Dick is the only kid in the Batfamily who actually DOES get where Jason comes from with half his priorities).

But yeah, Dick Grayson is not some spoiled rich brat because of who his adopted father is (also also, don’t forget he remains the only Batkid who wasn’t adopted until well into his adulthood. Despite living with Bruce twice as long as any other Batkid, every single other Batkid was officially adopted and LEGALLY more of a Wayne and more Bruce’s heir than Dick was the ENTIRE time he lived with Bruce). He pays his own way, he prioritized public schooling, having his own income, and actively and consistently puts his OWN funds towards public works for the cities he lives in.

This spoiled, entitled, privileged Dick Grayson we often see in fanfics, who is out of touch with the common man or whatever, is literally the COMPLETE OPPOSITE of who he has ALWAYS been written as, in EVERY canon.

[sapphicsaro]

anya || (post) winter soldier

hello all. here is another edition to the “anya” series i’m writing. this part takes place immediately after winter soldier and includes natasha’s pregnancy. i hope you like it. its a long one! 

(here’s a link to the civil war chapter, if you missed it too! https://rechutexx.tumblr.com/post/186134602680/anya-civil-war)

thank you to @catching-vibes-and-stars and @jackxangelica for beta reading!

---

“Mister Barton, you have a message from Miss. Romanoff, shall I read it to you?”

Clint continued his practice, eyes locked on the swinging target in front of him. “Sure, JARVIS.”

“Alright. From Miss Romanoff at 2:37pm: ‘She’s already feeling excited. He’s only usually seen entertaining’. End of message. I’m sorry sir, I am not sure who she may be referencing for you.”

His arrow released from his quiver. Bullseye. 

“Don’t worry, JARVIS, I understand it. Thank you.”

“No problem, sir. Shall I turn your music back on?”

Clint placed the remaining arrows back into his quiver, and shook his head, “No, I believe I have to start packing up.”

“Alright sir.”

Clint folded his bow up, and placed it, along with his quiver, back into its case.

She was speaking in code like she always did when she needed to be conspicuous.

Safehouse.

She had been gone with Steve for a few weeks, as had become the routine. Strike Team Delta disbanded with the introduction of the Avengers, so now the two spies were free to work with any of the other members. Fury sought out Natasha, knowing she was ready for more missions, unlike Clint, who needed some time to recover from the Battle of NY. Fury asked Nat if she would keep Steve busy and give him something to help him adjust to contemporary society.

So, for the past two years, she had her new partner and was in and out of their home in the tower (which was a move for them that Stark had insisted they make).

But, he was equally as busy as her. Just not with her anymore.

SHIELD may have been utilizing him less, but Stark had found “Hawkeye” more useful for his own missions. Yeah, maybe they weren’t as eventful as the shootouts he would typically have at SHIELD, but he enjoyed the work just the same.

Stark got him home at a reasonable time and he would be in bed, hearing aids out, hours before Natasha would stumble in, kick off her boots and flop onto the bed, falling asleep almost instantaneously.

The two would eat breakfast together, swap stories, and spend a few more hours together before they would both hit the road again.

But she sent the message: safe house.

This was their secret (one of many) and they were the only ones who knew what this meant. The steps to follow were simple:

Text is sent.

Leave wherever you are as quickly as possible.

Don’t speak to anyone.

Send Fury an “x” (he would know what that meant)

Grab a file with new identities and get to the airport.

Step one was done. Time to go.

It took him six minutes to get upstairs, grab the necessities and toss them in their suitcase.

No weapons; those were at the house.

Grab their keepsake boxes.

Toss some clothes in.

Get the new passports.

Get out.

He was used to this. Although the safe house text was rare, he and Natasha were spies. Having to flee and get out quickly was second nature to him.

Clint put on his jacket and grabbed the new passports, hello Elise and Mark. Ugh, Mark? Of all names it had to be-

“Going on vacay, Birdie?”

Tony was leaning against his front door, which in his hurry, Clint must have left open. “Uh, yeah, SHIELD called. They-”

“No they didn’t.”

Fuck.

Tony smirked at Clint, walking into the spies’ home and heading into their kitchen. He opened their fridge, giving it the once over, “Didn’t you hear the news? SHIELD is done-so.”

What.

Clint froze, letting his bag slip slowly down his shoulder, “What are you talking about?”

Tony stuck his head out of the fridge, before grabbing a beer from it. “Oh yeah, it’s brutal. Steve just sent me a message. More like a warning, actually. Apparently a bunch of you were HYDRA. Don’t know which of you to trust.”

Clint couldn’t move, there was too much to process. If what Tony was saying was really true, that meant Natasha was out there fighting against people they thought were on their side. And now Tony thinks that he is HYDRA? 

Fuck this. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“You think I’m HYDRA?”

“Hmm, could be. You never know, you two lovers are very hush hush.” Tony gulped at the beer in his hands, “This is terrible. What is this?”

“I’m not HYDRA.”

Tony chuckled, “Wow, I feel much better. Thank you, Barton.”

He wasn’t dealing with this. 

“I have to go.”

“What if I won’t let you?” Tony eyed him up.

“You can’t.”

Tony nodded, “Interesting.”

Clint’s eyes never left Tony’s. If he had to, he could overpower Stark, right here, right now. He’s got no suit and Clint is way more experienced and trained. But, neither of them moved. Instead, they remained silent for a moment, two men, ready for a fight in a kitchen.

“Tell me where you’re going, Merida. Seems rather odd that Steve send me that message and I spot you about to flee the tower. You know, I thought we were becoming friends too. But all that time you were just spying on me. Huh.”

“It’s not what it looks like.”

“Oh no?” Tony’s beer was empty now. He placed it gently on the counter, spinning it a few times, eyes focused on the bottle. “Then why can’t you tell me where you are going?”

Clint was stuck. Tell Tony the truth? Risk the safe house. Lie to Tony? Risk everyone thinking he’s HYDRA. Fuck.

“Natasha texted me. She needed to talk. We’re are going away together.”

Tony pursed his lips, clearly not satisfied with his answer. “And I’m supposed to just believe you?”

Clint tries to respond, but he pauses. He gives a second.

“Yes.” Tony looks up, analyzing Clint’s expression as if he was one of his silly little equations.

Fuck this. Fuck Tony.

“Tony, look. I’m telling the truth, if you don’t want to believe me, that’s your problem. Because you just informed me that the place I’ve worked at, for a large portion of my life, mind you, turned out to just be one huge lie. And I brought Natasha there too; I made her leave her life for SHIELD. And now, we lost everything. She texted me. No, she didn’t tell me what happened, she just texted that she needs me; she asked me to go to her. So I’m doing that. Because I love her. And if you want to try and stop me from getting to her, you’re a damned fool.”

Tony stared the archer down once more, but this time, a small grin crept up on his face. He held his hands up as a sign of defeat and headed back toward the front door.  “Fine. Go to your girlfriend. But, if I find out you lied to me, I’ll be really upset, Katniss.”

————

Fuck airports. Fuck planes. Fuck old men who can’t keep their mouth shut.

Clint hated planes. Not the actual flying or any of that, but: the people. Dear god, how he hated the people. 

He missed the jets that Tasha and him would fly around. They were private; always just the two of them and whatever music she felt like playing that flight.

Public planes were dirty and overcrowded. And when you needed a last minute flight, you got stuck with the worst of the worst. Clint had to sit between a 90 year old man who clearly had been drinking while being on medication, and a middle aged woman who continuously claimed that he had been touching her and eyeing her up.

Clint wanted to put an arrow through his eye.

But the flight was over, he landed safely in Missouri, and he practically ran off the plane.

A 30-minute cab ride led him to the familiar, run-down storage unit where his baby was kept.

His truck. Oh man. For a man friends with Stark, you’d think an old, beat up pickup truck wouldn’t please him at all. But the memories Clint had in his truck were worth more than a thousand of Stark’s fancy, self-driving shits.

Clint dug through his bag, pulling out the keys, and made the familiar route home.

Home?

No, home was supposed to be their apartment in the city, not this “safe house”. But somehow the farm house felt more like his home than the sleek two bedroom in the Avengers tower.

No, this farm house was domestic, intimate. Natasha and him were not spies here; this was where they went to hide, to be “normal”.

Nat was always ‘Tasha’ here.

Here, she wore flannel shirts and baggy sweaters. She would cook food from the market and eat dinner at a real dining room table. She would hum around the house, and sometimes Clint would hear her sing softly when she thought she was alone. At the safe house, she was softer.

Here, she could still kill you in the blink of an eye, but you would die with a record crackling Fleetwood Mac in the background.

But they were rarely here; only when they had a bad mission. Fury would send them on a “mandatory vacation” for anywhere from a week to two months and they always ended up here. They never even discussed it.

So D.C. must have really kicked her ass if Natasha willingly decided to come here.

The drive back was easy, with little to no cars on the road. And when he got closer to the house, all the cars disappeared except for his. Natasha must have left her CD in the player because Clint was stuck listening to Dvorak’s Ninth World Symphony on a loop as the radio stopped working forever ago.

He pulled up; it was getting dark now. He could see a single light on inside. She was here.

He parked, gathered his bags and headed inside. The downstairs was quiet and clean, indicating that she had barely been down here. Her shoes lay sprawled next to the door, her jacket thrown over the railing. She was upset.

Clint slid his boots off, locked the door and made his way up the stairs. He saw the light on at the end of the hall and heard the soft tunes of Ella Fitzgerald playing on the record. “Tasha?”

No answer. Clint got to the bedroom door and slowly opened it to see her curled up on the bed, eyes watery. Shit.

She looked at him, not moving, letting her eyes tell the story.

He dropped his bag by the door and took his jacket off before sliding into the bed with her and enveloping her in his arms. She stayed silent. He did, too.

He cupped her face and ran his thumb across her cheek with his one hand as the other was tangled in her hair. She laid against his chest, arms curled near her face. She locked her legs in his and he kissed her head, breathing her in.

She rarely cried in front of him. She never cried in front of anyone else. Her tears stopped, but he knew that she must have been crying before he got here. The rare times he did see tears fall, they wouldn’t talk about it. Instead, he would silently hold her and she would let him. It was the dance of two people who needed comfort but were too stubborn to admit it.

They laid as the record kept spinning; now Dream a Little Dream of Me was ending and Natasha started to shift in his arms, indicating that she was going to sit up.

“It’s over.”

Her voice was rough, and it may have sounded normal to any other person, but this was his Tasha and he could recognize the pain.

“I heard.”

She shook her head, brows furrowed, but eyes starting too well slightly with tears. “This entire time, Clint. Who knew?”

Clint shrugged, sitting up across from her, “We didn’t.”

Natasha let out a small laugh. It wasn’t a genuine one. “Two highly trained spies couldn’t even figure out we were being double crossed.”

Clint smiled at her, bringing his knees up and folding his arms around them, linking his hands together. “I guess we’re shit, then.”

Natasha finally took her eyes off the wall next to her and looked at Clint, a small smile coming across her face. “Yeah, we suck.”

He didn’t want to prod, but there was a burning sensation that wanted her to tell him everything. He opened his mouth to speak, but was stopped. “I released everything.”

Confusion hit Clint like a ton of bricks, “Released what?”

“All of SHIELD’s secrets. And HYDRA’s technically. Everything. I released them. Now the world knows everything about me.”

Clint slowly nodded his head, trying to process everything she was saying. “That bad, huh?”

“They wanted to arrest me. I told them to fuck off.”

Clint chuckled, “I would expect nothing less.”

He had to take this conversation slow. He knew Natasha better than anyone else did. She was not a revealing person by nature, so if she was going to tell him anything, he had to keep his questions minimal and wait for her to feel ready to open up.

“Are you okay?” was what he deemed appropriate.

She sat for a moment, letting her eyes fall away from him. A short pause later, she looked back up, “No.”

Clint nodded, and stayed silent. This was different from any other time. Usually she would mask the situation, and he would follow along, pretending everything was fine until it actually was.

“We’re safe here. This is still off records. That’s why-” she let out a heavy sigh. “The public knows the person I was before. They’re not going to see me as the person I’ve worked so hard to become. The one who fought on the side of good. And now, with HYDRA, was I ever even on the right side?” She shook her head, “I need to hide out here; just for a bit. I need time for them to cool off so they don’t want to kill me.”

“Okay. We can do that.” Clint looked at her, giving her a half-smile. “It’s like another vacation.”

Natasha chuckled, “Yeah. I supposed so.”

Clint laid back down, a held out his hand, “C’mere.” She placed her hand in his, letting Clint pull her into him again. This time, she ran her hands all over his chest. Clint smiled, and held her tightly, placing little kisses on the top of her head. He reached over, clicking off the light as her breathing got heavier. “G’night, Tasha.”

————

When she woke up, the sun shined brightly through the window, glistening over Clint’s sleeping face. She was still comfortably against his chest, but she felt stiff and groggy.

She felt nauseous; crying for as long as she did yesterday (although no one saw her) would do that to you. She carefully slid out of his arms, as to not wake him, although he was the heaviest sleeper, hearing aids in or out.

She tiptoed to the bathroom, taking a glance in the mirror as she passed it. God, she looked terrible. The bags under her eyes highlighted the sleep she’d lost over the past weeks.

Her stomach hurt. Again.

All of the stress gave her horrendous stomach aches. She had lost everything she ever knew in the past weeks. Luckily, Steve was there for her, but the recent discoveries were still hard on her and it made her ill to think about where she would go from here.

Oh no.

She made it to the toilet before throwing up. Fuck. These stress aches were killing her.

“You okay?” Clint asked, standing in the door frame while rubbing his eyes from exhaustion.

Natasha stayed on the ground, head against the wall; the nausea was still there. “It’s just stress.”

“Stress?” He raised a brow at her, a slight look of confusion across his face, “Since when have you thrown up from stress?”

Natasha looked up at him, he wasn’t wrong.

The two locked eyes as if something was said, but neither spoke a word. If either of them asked the obvious, Natasha would explode. This was not an option. 

Nope. Not possible. There was no way.

Clint cleared his throat, “Um, so how long as this, uh, stress sickness been happening?”

“Two weeks.”

“Oh.” He nodded, acting as if this was a conversation about what they were having for breakfast and not a literal human baby.

Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfu-

“Is there a chance you’re-“

“Clint Barton, please do not finish that question.”

There would be no “p” word here.

But let’s just say he did ask. Yeah, they did have sex right before they left, but they always did. Besides, she was sterile. Nothing worked down there. Except for the extremely rare moments she would randomly bleed down there, the Red Room took away all chances of a “p” word happening. She even went undercover once to a doctor in the middle of Iowa to confirm her diagnosis. The doctor was mystified by what she saw, and her conclusion was that she was sterile. Natasha snuck out the building before the doctor could see her again.

“Okay.” He stayed against the doorframe, arms crossed, eyes never leaving her.

Natasha shook her head, still leaning it against the wall as she tried to control her nausea. “Clint, I’ve told you, it’s not possible for me to have a child.”

“I know. I’m just thinking that this is like what happens in the movies, ya know? The girl is all sick and then she pees on a stick and then-”

“Clint, I love you, but please shut up or I’ll puke again.”

“Sorry.”

Clint moved away from the doorframe, instead opting to sit atop the corner of the counter near Natasha. As she sat still, he kicked his feet, back and forth, back and forth-

Oh no.

It happened again. This time she threw up hard and it hurt her throat. Clint jumped off the counter, grabbing a cup and filling it with water. He quickly knelt by her side, “Here, here.”

Natasha took small sips from the glass as Clint rubbed circles on the small of her back. “Fuck,” she coughed out. “I’m gonna have to piss on a stick.”

———

Clint and Natasha were, undoubtedly, two of the toughest people out there. Clint has put more arrows in people than he has targets, and Natasha could kill a man with just her thighs. They’ve seen death, caused death, and have been at death’s door themselves. They’ve been shot, stabbed, bruised, tortured, you name it.

And yet, the two people who have seen the most gruesome ways to die, were scared of a piece of plastic.

The trip to the store was awkward. Neither said a word; Clint just drove all the way into town, got inside the store with Natasha, bought the stick (well, a few), and got back in the car to head home. The cashier smiled at the two and gave a small thumbs up to Clint as Natasha signed the receipt.

Clint didn’t know how to feel. A baby was never an option for them. He didn’t really care though; he was happy with her. And yeah, he loved kids, but he liked the fun parts about them, not the responsibility of having a child. He was the cool uncle who shot bow and arrows and taught little kids archery, not a father.

Could he even see Natasha having a baby?

Meanwhile, Natasha was out of it. Her mind was far away from the place she actually sat in their bedroom. No, she was trying to imagine one line, clear as day, on each of the three sticks. A negative would mean that they could laugh at the absurdity of the day, make dinner, fuck, and forget they even thought she could be pregnant. One line meant she would go back in the field soon. One line meant her whole world didn’t fall apart. Again.

Fuck three minutes feels like a lifetime.

Clint was the first to break the two-hour long silence, “What if-“

“It’ll be negative.”

“But what if-”

“Clint.”

“Okay.”

Back to the silence they went as they waited for the timer to go off. When it did, they both stood up, but Natasha pushed ahead of Clint to gather the tests. Clint sat back down, waiting for her to come back.

Natasha walked back to the bed, three sticks still in her hand.

“Are you...”

“I didn’t look.”

“Oh.”

Her knuckles were turning white with how tightly she held onto them. “Clint, I can’t do this.”

“I’ll look for you.”

“That’s not what I meant.” She took her eyes off the tests and shifted her focus to him, “I can’t be a mother. I’m not meant for that.” Instead of responding, Clint just nodded his head slowly. “I’m a murderer. We both are. We are not cut out for this.”

“You’re right.”

“So if- and it’s a big if- if they are positive, we cannot keep this child.”

“Understood.”

Natasha nodded and then flipped the sticks over.

Two lines, two lines, and a plus.

“Son of a bitch.” She threw her head back, letting her body flop on the bed while Clint stayed frozen, eyes locked on the tests.

“So you’re- wow.”

Natasha tilted her head towards him, “Are you happy about this?”

Uh oh. Clint didn’t know what to say. On one hand he wanted to say, no we can’t do this. But, Natasha just beat the odds, and this baby seemed like a miracle. No, not a miracle. Natasha doesn’t want the baby. It’s her choice.

Natasha had fully sat up at this point, staring Clint down as he stayed locked on the tests, deep in thought. “Clint, talk to me. I can’t hear you think.”

Clint shook his head, keeping it down, “I have a lot of thoughts…I just- I just don’t know. I don’t how I feel.”

Natasha placed a hand gently on his arm, “Talk to me.”

He moved his focus to her, her expression was soft as her hand stayed on his forearm. Clint placed his hand on top of hers and took a deep breath, “I…I feel conflicted. I know we are not meant for this, trust me, it’s almost impossible to picture us taking care of a child for even an hour, let alone forever. But there’s this part of me that’s just like: wow, we thought this was impossible and somehow this baby is there. It’s stupid, I’m sorry, I know we can’t keep a baby, it’s just we never got to even think about the possibility of this happening before.”

“It’s not stupid.” She began chewing at her lip, a nervous habit he noticed she had. “I feel similar.”

“Really?”

“Yes. I mean, I’ve had it in my mind that I could never have a child since my graduation ceremony. And now I’m looking at three things telling me otherwise? And I’m rushing to say we can’t do this and we are spies and not meant for this, but everything is changing and I don’t know how to feel.”

Her eyes welled with tears and Clint wrapped an arm around her shoulders, letting her lean her head against him. “Hey, it’s okay, Tasha.”

“No. No it’s not.” She began to cry, and hard. Clint rubbed circles across her skin, trying to soothe her as she let tears roll onto his shirt. “Why is there a part of me that wants this?”

What. 

Of all things he thought she might say, Clint did not expect this. He placed a kiss on the top of her head and gave her a tight squeeze, “So, what if we did?”

Natasha lifted her head off of him, wiping her cheeks, “What?”

“Let’s talk about this, for real. We have two options: keep or don’t. If you decide not to, then I take you to the doctors, we forget this happened, come back home and that’s the end of it. If you decided to keep it, then we hide out here for the pregnancy, have a baby and then-”

“And then what, Clint? Spend our lives hiding a human child from the public? I don’t know if you remember this, but the public isn’t too happy with me right now and I’m sure a lot of people would love to get their hands on the child of Black Widow and Hawkeye.”

“We wouldn’t let that happen.”

“How would we stay hidden for months without anyone needing us or calling us?”

“SHIELD is gone, the Avengers are fine, we have time. We tell the others we have our own mission and that we’ll be hard to reach.”

“And when it’s born? What do we do then?”

Clint shrugged, “We raise it. We can stay here, off the radar, or we go back to Avenger’s Tower and-”

“If we have a baby, we are not raising it in the tower.”

“Okay.”

The silence returned to the room, and both of them adverted looking at the other. They sat like this, on the bed, deep in thought for what felt like hours before Natasha turned to Clint, “We should call the team.”

———

Telling the Avengers that they had their own “mission” they were going on was challenging because each person asked too many god damn questions. Luckily, Natasha and Clint were trained spies; lying was easy. However, dealing with Tony Stark was not.

He asked for check-ins, calls every week, a secret way to contact them, the whole nine yards, but neither spy budged. Natasha calmly told him that they were going to be out of service for a while and to please clean out our fridge in the apartment, the food will rot.

Clint and Natasha didn’t talk about the baby again. In fact the next time the pregnancy was even acknowledged was three weeks later.

Natasha woke up in a pool of sweat, pain accumulating in her abdomen. Clint’s aids were out, so she lightly shook him awake. “Clint.”

Clint jumped up, “Wha-what?”

“Something’s wrong.”

Clint flicked on the light, and scrambled to her side of the bed, kneeling down next to her. “What’s happening, are you okay?”

Natasha sat up slowly, “It’s my left side.”

Clint ran to the bathroom, grabbing a washcloth and soaking it in cold water. He went back to her side, running the washcloth along her face, trying to cool her down. “Are you bleeding?”

Natasha shook her head, “No.”

“Okay.” He continued to wipe the cloth around her face, traveling down to her chest. She tried to slow down her breathing to help ease the pain as the cool water helped relieve her overheating body.

She groaned once more, this time gripping his arm tightly. He used his other hand to rub her back. “Do you want to go to the hospital?”

“Maybe. I don’t know.” She let out a small whimper as pain ran through her again, “Yes.”

“Okay.” Clint stood up and grabbed a duffle bag, piling in a new outfit for her and some of their essentials. Natasha slowly moved, placing her feet on the ground.

She groaned once more, “Fuck.”

Clint zipped up the bag and came back to her, “Can you walk?”

“If you help me.”

He leant down, and she threw her arm over his shoulder. He grabbed the bag with the other hand and slowly went down the stairs. She continuously groaned each step they took down. “Tasha, I can carry you.”

She didn’t say anything, just nodded, and he picked her bridal style. He carried her all way to the car and got her in the passenger seat before climbing into the truck himself and driving away.

He wasn’t going to pretend he wasn’t scared. Sure, they haven’t talked about the baby since they kind of decided to keep it, but he was getting more attached to the bump that was forming. And he thinks she was too. Sometimes when he would look over at her, she would have a hand resting on the bump, her thumb rubbing it slowly.

He drove as careful and quickly as possible, and Natasha had flicked on the CD player to cover the sound of her moans. When they arrived, she stayed in the car while Clint ran in, returning with a nurse and a wheelchair. He lifted her out and gently placed her in the wheelchair as the nurse raced inside with her.

Clint almost forgot their undercover identities as he checked her in, but when he finished, Mark was escorted to his wife, Elise’s, room.

When he got there, he passed the nurse who was exiting the room and stared at Natasha, laid back in the bed. “I hate the name Elise.”

Clint chuckled and sat in the chair next to her bed, grabbing her hand. “Me too.”

A nurse arrived with an ultrasound, and one exam later confirmed she was pregnant, and still pregnant. However, the nurse was perplexed by the exam and called in an OBGYN to take a closer look. Natasha knew the conversation that was about to happen and wanted to launch herself out of the room, but she still needed an answer as to what was causing the pain.

Natasha watched Clint throughout their time there, his eyes bouncing back from her face to the uncovered baby bump. He would deny that he was looking at it, but she knew he was. She couldn’t lie, she had grown more attached to the baby as well. The two of them were terrible at communicating their emotions, but if they were a “normal” couple (like Elise and Mark) they would be reading baby books and designing a nursery by now.

Right now, they were just at ease with the idea of a baby. They hadn’t quite grasped the reality of the situation yet, and especially not enough to plan for the baby to arrive. Granted, they had some time. But this was probably a wake up call for them to start some conversations.

Three hours later, they were settled back at home in bed, headed back to sleep. The doctor concluded that the pain was from her uterus stretching, but because of her “unique” situation down there (when he said unique, Natasha almost punched him in the throat), her pain was going to be more extreme. He gave her a prescription for painkillers approved for pregnant women and sent them on their way home.

Now they were back in their bed, Clint behind Natasha arms wrapped around her, hands landing on her bump. She placed her hands on top of his, scooting back to get closer to him.

Eyes closed, he kisses her hair, “G’night Tasha.”

——— 

Three months went by and Natasha’s baby bump grew larger to the point where her only outfits consisted of leggings and an oversized sweater. Since the hospital incident, Clint and her made some progress on getting ready for their child. He had emptied one of the upstairs bedrooms (not Kate’s though, that room still remained down the hall), and started to build the nursery. Natasha would stop by it sometimes, resting against the door frame, watching him build. 

The first thing he finished was a rocking chair for Natasha. When it was done, he didn’t show it off to her. Instead she noticed it the next morning and ran her hands over it, noticing how well done it was. She had almost teared up when she saw his personalization of it with a “⧗” engraved on the top, but she held her ground. 

One weekend, they decided to paint the room. Clint let Natasha pick out the color and she settled with a pale yellow, something Clint was surprised by. 

“It’ll look nice in the sunlight with those windows in there,” she had told him. 

And she was right.

Even with all the progress they were making, their actuals conversations about the baby were limited. No names were picked out, no talks about parenting, nothing. Natasha didn’t speak to Clint or anyone else about her growing belly. She would read parenting books by herself, and he would watch her as he would read some of his own, but they didn’t discuss it. 

Some people would be worried, but Clint knew that Natasha was never going to change into the stereotypical mother that some thought every woman should be like. Instead, she was reserved and kept her feelings to herself, but he knew she would love this baby just the same, if not more. 

Clint could tell that she was still apprehensive about having a baby. She had spent five months at the farmhouse so far, the longest they had ever stayed before, and there was still a lot of time left for them here. He did worry that Natasha wasn’t happy here, as she was used to the high intensity, fast-paced life of a spy, but she seemed good for now. The medication helped with pain, and Elise would go to the doctor’s for her monthly checkups with Mark.

At one of the earlier checkups, they got to hear their child’s heartbeat. Natasha didn’t know how to react. Clint started wide-eyed at the screen, trying to hide a smile from forming on his face. Natasha listened intently to the “drum beat” of her child’s heart; holy shit. 

At last month’s checkup, the baby started to look more like a real baby. They gave her and Clint each a sonogram to take home. Both of them had it on them at all times, sometimes taking it out just to see their baby one more time.

Natasha was mystified. Six months ago, she thought this was impossible. She thought that she could never conceive a child, but now there was a baby in her, growing day by day. 

And they had a heartbeat. 

It was a little scary. It reminded her that this was real; that in a few months Clint and her would have a child. She knew in her heart that Clint would be a great father, but she didn’t know how she would be as a mother. Truthfully, she wanted this baby now, but she was also ready to go back to work. 

Her whole life she spent fighting, and this “vacation” her and Clint were on was the longest she has ever had to just do nothing. She had new pains everyday, and yes, the medication helped but the feeling of being pregnant and carrying around a baby inside her did not feel like the “miracle” that other women had said it was. 

She felt like a different person sometimes. This “Elise” identity felt like it crept into her own and had brainwashed her into becoming more domestic. The old Natasha wouldn’t have taken this break. The old Natasha wouldn’t be buying a stuffed animal in the town’s shop. 

It wasn’t the baby that changed her though. It was the fall of SHIELD. 

Before her and Steve’s mission to D.C., she felt like herself. She had been working at SHIELD ever since Clint had brought her in all those years ago, and they became the best at the agency. Their team was the most trusted by Fury. They had a success rate of 99 (they don’t talk about the mission in Belize where all hell broke loose and they needed backup). 

So when she found out that HYDRA had infiltrated them, she felt lost. She had a purpose before; to fight on the good side and clean out her ledger. But, knowing that HYDRA had been there the whole time, she felt that all her hard work had been invalidated. She was still the same “bad” person she was before. 

And yes, her intentions of being a good person were still there, but it felt wrong. Sure, the Avengers were a thing, and she had fought with them to save the world, but she wasn’t ready to go back. Not after the public had gained access to all her dirty secrets. 

The timing of this baby seemed too convenient. She felt lost, needing something to do after D.C. and all of a sudden she was miraculously pregnant? ерунда. (Bullshit)

Maybe it wasn’t the best way to express it, but it felt like this baby was her next mission. Strike Team Delta was back, and better than ever. Except one of the members was heavily pregnant, and the other was obsessively building baby furniture. But here they were, the two best spies, in a Missouri farmhouse, reading baby books and buying stuffed animals. 

She wouldn’t admit it, but she wanted this baby. 

Yes, she would hesitate if you asked her, but that’s because she was scared to bring a baby into a world where their parents fought alien monsters and consistently were in shootouts. But she was filled with an overwhelming sense of needing to protect this child, and they weren’t even born yet. Some might not call that love, per-say, but keep in mind she was a trained assassin who grew up in the Red Room in Russia. She would never be the cutesy mom who wore proper maternity clothes and made scrapbooks. 

However, she was going to be the mother who would never allow her child to go through what she and Clint went through. She would protect this child until the day she died. Maybe she wouldn’t be going to the school’s bake sale or see the play, but she would be there when her child cried, and she would make damn sure that her child was well taken care of. 

Natasha had fallen asleep on the couch reading another maternity book while Clint was upstairs in the baby’s room, continuing to work on the crib when there was a knock at the door. 

Nobody ever came to this house. 

Clint jumped up, and instinctively ran to the bedroom to grab his gun. He slowly made his way down the stairs and peeked into the living room, spotting Natasha in the distance, still fast asleep. 

There was another knock. 

Clint stood frozen, gun aimed at the front door while he watched the doorknob twist and turn. Someone was trying to break in. They picked the wrong house. Clint was ready to fire, no matter what; no one was going to lay a hand on his wife or their unborn child. 

The knob twisted harder, until the sound of keys were heard and the door clicked unlocked. Clint took a deep breath, and the door was thrown open.

Fury.

“Hello to you too, Barton.”

“Fury? What the hell-”

“I’m sorry, my two best agents disappear for five months and you expect me to not know you’re here? Reminder that I’m the one who is keeping this house off everyone’s radar. Even after your wife published everything out there.” At this point, he had stepped into the house, walking right into the kitchen and looking around as if he had misplaced something. “Where is Natasha?”

Clint had unloaded his gun, putting the safety back on and placing it down. “She’s asleep on the couch. But I wouldn’t bother her.”

“I have to talk to you both. She can wake up.”

“Sir, I really wouldn’t-”

Fury had spotted her before Clint could finish. There she was, his best spy, asleep and clearly pregnant with a baby book on her lap. “You better tell me that’s fake and you’re really committing to being undercover.”

Clint cleared his throat and crossed his arms, “It’s real.”

Fury couldn’t take his eyes off of her, “How? I thought-”

“We don’t know. We just got lucky, I suppose.”

Some would think that this was a poor reaction to finding out someone was pregnant, but Fury face seemed softer than usual, even though it was definitely not overjoyed. 

When Natasha first came to SHIELD, Fury didn’t trust her. He wanted absolutely nothing to do with her until she proved her loyalty to him. Within her first year, she had completed every mission perfectly and could even get the job done in less time than any of the other spies. She was good. Fury liked her. She didn’t showcase emotions, just worked and did it well. Barton and her became his best team. He could trust them with the hard missions and they accepted the challenge gladly. 

After the many years they worked together, Fury had forgotten he once despised the young redhead. He had grown to care for her, almost like she was a daughter to him. 

So, when she started dating Barton, he wanted to kill the archer. He had indeed threatened him, stating that if Clint ever hurt her, he would kill him and no one would ever find his body. Luckily, the two seemed happy together and the relationship only helped their work instead of hindering it. When he proposed, the only ones who knew were himself, Phil, and Maria. The same three were the only ones allowed to know about their marriage as well, until the Avengers, of course. 

And now, they were having a baby. Fury didn’t know what to say. Was he upset? No. Was he happy? Maybe?

“Are you both quitting?” He turned away from Natasha, now staring Clint down. 

“SHIELD is gone, sir.”

“The Avengers aren’t.”

Clint nodded his head in acknowledgment, “We know.”

Fury chuckled, “And who is supposed to inform them that two of their members quit and decided to live Little House on the Prairie style, forgetting everything about their old lives?”

“We aren’t quitting, sir.”

Fury raised his voice, slightly, “Well, it sure seems-”

Clint shushed him, pointing towards Natasha. He headed toward the back porch and Fury followed suit. Clint leaned against the railing, while Fury took a seat on one of the wicker chairs. 

“We aren’t quitting, sir.”

“How?”

Clint folded his arms in front of his chest, “What do you mean ‘how’? Natasha has three to four more months before she gives birth and then we’ll take some time with our child before Natasha goes back to New York and I stay here with the baby.”

“When do you come back to New York, hmm?”

Clint shrugged, “I don’t know, when the timing is right? I’ll know after the baby’s born.”

Fury shook his head, “This complicates things far more than either of you realize, Barton.” Clint stayed silent; he knew Fury was right, but he would never admit it. “Sure, you can get through the next months doing what you’ve been doing. But once that baby is born, both of your lives change forever. You are underestimating how much that child will mean to the both of you. Natasha may never be ready to go back, and neither may you. And you better be careful. That child is going to need a lot of protection with the parents they’re gonna have. You may be whichever undercover names you are here, but don’t forget you are still Clint Barton and Natasha Romanoff.” 

He stood up from the chair, “When she wakes up, you tell her to take care of herself. And that’s an order.”

Clint nodded and Fury places a hand on his shoulder, “Keep me updated, too. I can’t protect you if I don’t know what’s going on. It’ll be just the three of us, none of Avengers will know.”

“Of course, sir.” 

Fury walks down the porch steps, “Oh, and call your little Kate Bishop friend, she’s been bugging the shit out of me.”

Fuck. Clint had been so preoccupied in the last couple months he didn’t realize that he had placed Kate on the back burner. 

It had been five years ago that he had discovered her trying to be a mini-Hawkeye. And after seeing some promise in her, he decided to began training her. She was a free spirit, and she sure acted like she hated him, but Clint had become very close to the teenager. 

No, he was nowhere near like a father to her, maybe more like an older brother? 

And he had his phone shut down for the past five months, only thinking about how the Avengers may try to contact him, and not Kate. Fuck, she was going to be pissed. 

Clint made his way back into the house; good, Tasha was still asleep. He went back upstairs, taking the gun with him so he could put it away. He went into their closet, spotting the burner phone they had for emergencies. 

He knew her number by heart, now he just had to pray she would pick up the phone. 

Three rings went by before he heard a dry, “If this is a telemarketer calling, get a life, dude.”

“Kate?”

“That’s my name. What do you want?”

“Kate, it’s Barton.”

There was a long pause. 

“Kate?”

“Fuck you.”

“I’m sorry, Kate, I-”

“No seriously, fuck you. Do you know how long I’ve been trying to contact you?”

“I know, I’m sorry.”

“You and Nat go on the run, and you don’t even tell me?”

“It’s more complicated than that, Kate, I’m sorry-”

“Stop saying that!”

“Okay.”

“Look, I know you’re on your little farmhouse and when you guys need a break, I can’t just show up but you could’ve at least kept in contact with me. You just abandoned me for the past five months.”

“Kate, I can’t apologize enough. I never meant to abandon you, something just came up and we had to lose all contact with everyone and I just forgot.”

“Glad I’m forgettable.”

“You know that’s not what I meant.”

“Fine. But what the hell happened that was so important that you completely cut me off from your life? Hmm?”

Clint didn’t know what to say. I mean, he knew he had to reveal his little secret, but this was he first time telling anyone about Natasha. 

“Hello? Earth to Barton? What happened?”

“It’s Natasha.”

“…is she okay?”

“She’s pregnant.”

There’s a small pause. 

“Shut up, you’re lying.”

“No, I’m not, I promise.”

“How? I mean, I know ‘how’, but like I thought she couldn’t, ya know, have a baby?”

“We aren’t sure. But she is. She’s a little over five months today.”

“Damn…Barton’s having a baby. That’s wild.”

“You can’t tell anyone about this though, okay?”

“Of course.”

“You should stay over soon, you got to see the nursery. I built everything from scratch. It’s pretty nice.”

“For sure. I’ll let you know when. I’m kind of busy doing some small missions of my own here and there. Nothing too intense, but I was trying to keep busy.”

“Good, I’m glad. I should go though, I should probably check on Natasha.” 

“Yeah, do that! I’ll see you soon, okay?”

“Bye, Kate.”

“Bye, birdbrain.”

———

Natasha was six months pregnant when she brought up baby names. Clint was in the nursery (which looked like a construction zone at this point) and she took a seat in the rocking chair, asking him if he had any ideas.

It took Clint by surprise, but he stopped his work, sat on the ground and looked back at her. “Honestly, I’m not sure.”

Natasha placed a hand on her bump, which had grown a great deal at this point. “I think it’s a boy.”

Clint laughed a little, “You do?” 

“Yeah, I do. Why, you don’t?”

Clint shook his head, “I have no clue. I mean I don’t really have a way of knowing.”

Natasha started rubbing small circles across her bump, feeling the baby shifting around. Last month she felt a kick for the first time. She grabbed Clint’s hand while they laid on the couch together, placing it gently on the bump as the baby kicked for him as well. Clint couldn’t believe what he was feeling and he didn’t take his hand away for a while. Natasha let him enjoy these moments with the bump, as she knew that she got much more experience with the baby daily than he did. 

“It might be a girl,” Clint stated, fiddling with a piece of wood in his hands. “A little redhead who looks like you.”

Natasha gave him a small smile. He liked this. This little moment was nice. Sure, it was a little late in her pregnancy, but he would have never rushed her. 

“And if it’s a girl, what do we call her?” she asked. 

“Hmm. I don’t know. I kind of like shorter names like Ellie or Meg. Why, did you have anything in mind?”

“I was thinking either Sophie or Anya.”

Clint smiled, “Anya? I like that.”

Natasha looked up, “You do?”

“Yeah. It’s pretty. And Russian?”

Natasha nodded, “Yes. It means grace.” 

“Well, I think it’s perfect. What if it’s a boy? Do you have a Russian name in mind too?”

“I was thinking Sasha. Or Misha. The first means defending men, the second is gift from God.”

“I like Misha. It’s cute,” Clint replied, leaning back against the finished crib. “I think they should have your last name.”

She raised her brows, “Mine?”

Clint shrugged, “Yeah. We could like hyphenate it like the young kids do now. You know, Romanoff-Barton?”

“Hmm. I’d like that.” 

They sat in silence for a couple minutes before she spoke again, “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

Natasha shifted in the chair, moving her focus to her hands, still resting on the bump. “For not talking much. For keeping to myself. For not being overly excited. There’s a lot.”

Clint moved closer to her, placing his hand on her knee, “Tasha, you have nothing to be sorry for. This baby was a lot to take in, and you’re the one doing all the hard work. You can be quiet. You don’t have to talk to me about things you don’t want to. We both are new to this, we’re not going to do everything by the book.”

“Maybe we could start talking about the baby more, though.”

Clint smiled up at her, “Yeah, I’d like that.”

Natasha took one of her hands off her knee and placed it on her belly, “They’re kicking.”

———

Kate stayed over when Natasha hit seven months. She only stayed for a couple days, and she definitely was weirded out. Sure, it was all very exciting, but it was very odd. The woman she knew for five years, who she had seen bloodied, bruised, shooting a gun, throwing knifes into targets, was now folding baby onesies into a dresser in a pale yellow nursery. 

It was weird. 

And now, Barton, the most sarcastic man in the world, was being gentle around her. 

Everything was changing, and Kate didn’t know if she liked it. 

For the three days she was there, she tried to keep things like normal. Clint took her shooting in the backyard, which was nice. Then she helped him in the nursery. When she first walked in, it was strange. She would have never pictured this. 

The old gray walls were now pale yellow. There was a crib, a changing table, a dresser, and a closet that had the beginnings of a child’s wardrobe. There were a few stuffed animals, a few books, and a blanket draped over the crib. 

“Wow,” she said.

Clint smiled, “I know. Weird, huh?”

“Extremely.”

Clint and her started to work on a wooden rocking horse that he had seen in one of the baby books. They fell right back into their old selves, joking around the entire time, each throwing lighthearted insults at the other. 

Kate had really missed him. He was the only strong male figure who stayed around in her life, and truthfully, she had grown to love him like family. Sure, she would never say that to his face, but, yeah, it was true. 

“So, you, uh, got a name for the little assassin yet?”

“Natasha picked some out. We got Misha Ryan Romanoff-Barton for boy, Anya Arianna Romanoff-Barton for girl.”

“That’s a mouthful.”

“Hey, I’m not doing any of the hard work, so why should the kid just be a Barton?”

Kate handed him the hammer, sitting back as he used it. “This is weird.”

Clint kept hitting the wood piece into place, “Well, it’s not finished yet so don’t-”

“Not the horse.”

Clint stopped and looked up at Kate, whose face had turned somber. “Oh.” He placed the hammer down next to him, “Do you want to talk about it?”

Kate adverted her eyes away from his, “It’s just…It’s just going to be so different.”

“Yeah, it will be. But it’ll be exciting too.”

Kate bit at her bottom lip, “Maybe for you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing.” She began fiddling with the tools in front of her, picking one up to examine it, and then placing it back on the floor. 

Clint, still seated in front of her, grabbed the tools from her hands. “Talk to me, Hawkette.”

She half-smiled at his nickname for her and looked up at him, “This baby is so important to you guys. I just don’t want our relationship to change.”

Clint nodded, placing a hand on her shoulder, “Kate, that won’t happen. Honestly, the baby will probably make us closer. We’re definitely going to need your help with them. And I want the little bugger to have their Auntie Kate around to teach them and play with them. You can stay here with us, in your room. We aren’t going to change that. You can come here any time you’d like, just as long as you tell us beforehand. We love you, Kate. And yeah, the baby is going to change some stuff, but I promise we are all going to be okay.” 

Kate nodded, grinning a little, but still looking unsure. “Okay.”

“I promise you. You’re going to be such a huge part of this baby’s life.”

Kate smiled at Clint, picked up his hammer and handed it to him, “Let’s finish this horse.” 

——— 

Natasha was officially eight months pregnant when she awoke in the middle of the night with severe pains, and a puddle of warm liquid between her legs.

The baby was coming. 

She shook Clint awake, “Clint. Clint.”

“Wha-what?”

“I think I’m in labor.”

With the word ‘labor’, he jumped awake, scrambling out of bed, “It’s time?”

Natasha let out a long moan, “Fuckkkkkk-“

“I take that as a yes.”

She shook her head, “It’s only eight months, we aren’t ready for this.”

“I don’t know if the baby is going to wait any longer.” He reached his hand out, “Here, let me help you. We have to get to the hospital.”

“No, no,” Natasha breathed out.

“No? Tasha, what are you talking about? Come on,” he reached for her again.

“Clint, we can’t. We can’t have anybody know about the baby. We have to do it here, we can hide them here, no one will know, we can-”

“Tasha, you aren’t being logical. We have to go to a hospital, we don’t want anything to go wrong.”

Natasha gripped her belly, another contraction slamming her hard. She moaned through it, “I don’t want them to take my baby!”

Oh. 

Clint bent down to her side of the bed where she was sitting, feet on the floor. He took both of her hands in his, “Tasha, look at me. No one is going to touch that baby, okay? We’ll go as Mark and Elise, and we’ll give them a fake baby name too. We can call Fury after and sort it all out. But, I’m not risking your life or the baby’s by staying here. I’m not qualified to deliver a baby, and I know you aren’t either. So please, come with me. Please?”

Her eyes welled with tears, and she nodded her head, “Okay.”

Clint got her down the stairs carefully, her groaning in severe pain as she took each step. It felt very reminiscent of when she was two months pregnant, heading to the hospital the first time. Except now, they had a finished nursery with all hand-made furniture, a car seat, a high chair, stuffed animals, books, and more onesies than either had seen in their life.

They seemed like real parents.

And they were about to be. Very soon.

It was difficult to stay undercover for both of them. Especially when the one’s in pain, and the other is trying to comfort them. Natasha had to be careful not to call him ‘Clint’ in front of the nurses who got her all set up in her hospital room. Clint had almost slipped and called her ’Tasha’ while she squeezed his hand through a particularly painful contraction. 

So, here they were, posing as Mark and Elise Leonard, about to give birth to either to Amy Marie or Alex Tyler Leonard. 

It was ridiculous. 

But they couldn’t risk anyone finding out. 

Natasha had gotten paranoid at anyone who looked at her longer for five seconds, but luckily, this town was so small that there were less televisions than there were tractors, so most of them did not known the Avengers well, or at all. 

The doctor immediately came to check on her when she arrived. He was concerned that the baby was coming too early, as she had three more weeks before she hit her due date.

One ultrasound later revealed that the baby was okay, and that they would just need a careful delivery. Hearing that made Clint feel so much better about coming here, and thankful Natasha agreed with him. If he was alone at home, he would have been so scared that something would have happened to either Natasha or the baby. Or both.

Of all the injuries Natasha had had in her life, nothing was more painful than this. This was the one thing that was most accurate about what she had heard about having a baby. 

Labor sucks ass. 

She tried to breathe through the contractions, but they hurt like a motherfucker and the fact that she had to be undercover was making her more irritable. 

Clint was there for her the whole time, like he had been for this whole pregnancy. She was so grateful for him, but in this moment, she wanted to strangle him for putting this baby in her. 

Three hours. 

She got through three hours before she was able to receive the epidural. A long needle was shoved into her back, and the nurse was stunned by how well she took it. Clint smiled at her confused face, needles had no effect on the master assassin. 

But contractions did. 

Luckily the epidural kicked in and relieved her of the pain, but this was still a lot for Natasha. 

Four hours of contractions, sweat, tears, and Clint’s hand going numb later, Natasha was at her breaking point.

“I need to push, I need to push, I need to-”

A short nurse came over to the bed, placing a hand on her leg, “You can’t push just yet, we need to make sure you are fully dilated before you do, okay Elise?” 

Natasha wanted to kick her in the face.

She got through fifteen more minutes of excruciating pain, squeezing Clint’s hand and letting tears roll down her cheeks. “Please, I have to push,” she cried and the doctor came quickly to check how far along she was. This time, she was ten centimeters dilated and the doctor’s team gathered in the small hospital room, ready to deliver this baby.

The nurses got everything set up, including Clint, who was directed on how to hold his wife and what he should be doing. Clint was sat on the bed with her, body half next to, half behind her. His right arm wrapped around her shoulders, his left pulling up her left leg. 

She looked up at him, a glimmer of fear in her watery eyes. He placed a kiss on her sweat covered forehead, “You got this.”

As another contraction hit, she cried through the overwhelming pressure to push, and the doctor was finally ready for her. “Okay, Elise!” 

Fuck that name. 

“You ready to meet your little one? On your next contraction, I need you to push.”

Natasha nodded, eyes squeezed shut as she waited for the pain to build up again. When it did, she held her breath and began to push how she had read too in the maternity books. Clint held her tightly as she screamed through her first push, a pain that was far worse than she had imagined. 

It might not have been this bad if it wasn’t for the Red Room. If it wasn’t for the fact that this baby wasn’t supposed to be here. If she had instead got to live a normal life, like Elise and Mark did. 

She snapped out of her thoughts as the doctor counted up, “One, two, three, push!”

Natasha listened to her body’s instincts, pushing as hard as she possibly could. “Good, good!” The doctor said, before she stopped and slammed her head back against the pillow.

“I can’t, I can’t-”

Clint placed his head against hers, “Yes, you can, you are doing so well, you got this.”

Another contraction came over her, and she pushed again. And again. And again. 

After six rounds of pushing, Natasha was becoming exhausted, but on the seventh push, the doctor declared that the baby was crowning. He told Mark to take a peak at his baby’s head, and Clint was overwhelmed by what his was witnessing. “You’re almost there, you got this.”

Natasha pushed as hard as she could and this time, the baby’s head was out. After a second, the doctor told her, “One more push, Elise, and then you can see your baby! One, two, three!”

She pushed harder than she ever did, mustering up as much strength as she could through her exhaustion, when she felt an immense pressure release from her and heard the loud wails of a small baby. She flopped back against the bed and Clint as the doctor held up her newborn baby.

“It’s a girl!”

The two spies, heartless as they used to be, both sat astonished by what they were witnessing. Their baby, their little girl was right there, right in front of them. 

“Here you go, mama,” a nurse said as she handed the wailing child to Natasha. 

Natasha grabbed her carefully and placed the child on her chest, arms wrapped around her gently as Clint was still wrapped around her too. Natasha felt a tear roll down her cheek, “Hello, little one.”

Her Anya was here. And she was beautiful. 

Both of the spies cried as they held their child for the first time. Her little screams subsided as she became more adjusted to her surroundings. The nurses got her all cleaned up, weighed and measured her, and wrapped her up in a blanket, putting a small hat on her head.

 5lb, 6 oz. 18 inches long.  

She was small, but she was mighty. 

Their little Anya Arianna Romanoff-Barton. 

[affcgato-archived]

MUNDANE / ELEMENTARY TEACHER.

verse tag: → clary fairchild // to awaken joy (v.) location: manhattan & brooklyn, NY. age: varies; 26-29, thread dependent.

verse summary.

Art has always been Clary's passion, threading itself through her entire life. at first, it even took her to college until a pivotal class prompted her to declare a dual major, & she started on the path of Elementary Education & Art. graduating with honors & earning both her B.A. & M.A., she took a risk & did a nine month artist in residency program with The Whitney Museum.

After the conclusion of the program, she would go on to accept a job teaching kindergarten at one of the prestigious private schools in New York City. Her curriculum centers largely around art, & language development following the expectations established by the school.

During the school year, she works with other volunteers for a nonprofit specializing in guided art therapy for both men & women - youth & adults - looking for support after trauma associated with assault, as well as military veteran groups confronting issues surrounding re-entry to civilian life, post-traumatic stress, & other related things. Typically she oversees one session a week after the conclusion of her school day for each group, with her youth group being on Saturdays, & her adult group on Wednesday nights.

During the summer, she's often called to act as an artist in residence for various programs through New York Foundation for the Arts. Through these residencies, she's traveled to places such as Cape Town, South Africa, Skowhegan, Maine, & Itaparica, Brazil - the latter of which was funded by grant through her employer in the hopes to bring back ideas for further diversifying their curriculum.

basics.

Clary's canon backstory in this verse is largely similar to her seemingly mundane life prior to her sixteenth birthday. She was born the younger child of Jocelyn Fairchild & Valentine Morgenstern, but raised solely by Jocelyn in Park Slope, Brooklyn. They had separated following steep personal tragedy that had claimed the life of Jocelyn’s parents when their home burned under mysterious circumstances, & Valentine had bolted with their son.

She attended St. Francis Xavier School, a private school near her home in Park Slope, Brooklyn, which is where she met Simon Lewis when she was six years old. Additionally, prior to her high school graduation, she was taking classes at NYU's Tisch School of the Arts.

When she was 16 ( circa 2007 ), she received a letter from her father’s estate revealing he had passed away far more recently than she & her mother had been lead to believe - Jocelyn had been under the impression her husband had died in that tragic fire that had claimed the life of her parents & young son before the birth of their daughter. Several weeks later, Jonathan turned up on Jocelyn’s doorstep with the revelation that not only had Valentine lied about his own death, but also that of his son.

Jonathan has been living & working in Manhattan since, compliant with @idumean​‘s professional chef verse unless plotted otherwise. Jocelyn & Luke are now married & living at Luke’s.

Clary teaches kindergarten at a private school in Manhattan’s Upper East. Her class size ranges from 8-10 small children, & follows a Scandinavian elementary model that emphasizes playtime & education through discovery. Her school year runs from roughly the second week of September through the first week of June, with her artist in residence programs typically picking up the third week of June through the second week of August. ( yearly salary: 76,000, pretax ( link ), $60,291 after taxes. works out to roughly $5,024/mo. )

Clary does not drive. She does however frequently use the metro, as well as very, very rarely takes cabs to get between home & work as well as the various places she goes during the week for her volunteer work or art ramblings. She runs an instagram account based on the rambling sketcher ( link ), & sells prints for additional income. she carries an etchr field case with her for those excursions. you can find the rest of the details of her kit here ( link ).

Clary lives in East Harlem ( link ). She has a small studio apartment that’s perpetually covered in plants & paintings. It’s very small, but it’s one of the most walkable areas & close to public transportation - & it’s home. Her rent takes up a disproportionate amount of her income, but she supplements her teacher’s salary with her art work, & various grants cover the cost of her artist in residence excursions that aren’t covered by the programs themselves. She doesn’t have any pets.

simplified timeline of events.

prior to 2007, lived in Park Slope & attended St. Xavier’s.

after August 2007, lived with Luke & Jocelyn but continued attending St. Xavier’s. Additionally started taking classes at Tisch.

Graduated St. Xavier’s in 2009, age 17, & starts college the following fall.

Graduates college in 2014, age 22, with both a B.A. & M.A. in elementary education & art. Starts a nine month artist in residency program with The Whitney Museum immediately after graduation.

Summer 2015, Artist in Residence in Cape Town, South Africa

Starts as a kindergarten teacher in the Fall of 2015.

Summer 2016, Artist in Residence in Skowhegan, Maine through the Skowhegan School of Painting & Sculpture.

Summer 2017, Artist in Residence in Itaparica, Bahia, Brazil through The Sacatar Foundation’s Instituto Sacatar.

options & ideas for interaction

option i. meeting in a public space. Clary frequently wanders the city doing sketches, so it’s very possible to run into her at various museums, coffee shops, or while she’s navigating the sidewalks after work. places of high interest for her at the New York Botanical Gardens, the High Line, The New York Public Library, or her canon haunt, Java Jones in Brooklyn. Additionally, she can also be found at various gallery openings, or at her brother’s restaurant, Per Se.

option ii. meeting through work. Clary works in Manhattan’s Upper East at a private school modeled after The Brearley School, as well as with various artist in residence programs listed but not limited to above. Her artist in residence programs are relatively short, & only occur during the Northern Hemisphere’s summer months ( late June - early August ), but offer flexibility in that they aren’t restricted to Manhattan as the rest of the school year would be.

option iii. meeting through volunteer work. Clary additional volunteers with a nonprofit organization working with youth & veterans. These programs emphasize art therapy, with youth activities on Saturdays, & the veteran meetings on Wednesday nights.

verse specific ooc notes

Disaster related plots ( bird box, apocalypse, etc. ) will default to this verse unless otherwise plotted.

Additionally, if using other canon TSC muses as NPCs, I will default to my own portrayals if possible unless plotted otherwise for simplicity’s sake.

[rankertopgoogle]

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[bunnyhendrix]

Not everyone can say they’ve been to the Big Apple, but ELIZABETH “BUNNY” HENDRIX, a 25 year-old FEMALE has lived in UPPER EAST SIDE, MANHATTAN for 25 YEARS. This is the city of dreams and SHE knows it, because they came to NYC to be a MODEL & INFLUENCER. Living in the city means they meet all kinds of people, but everyone always seems to think they look like ANYA TAYLOR JOY. They even got away with free cab fare once because of it! [violet, 24, she/they, est, self harm & abuse]

LINKS: statistics + pinterest

NAME: Elizabeth “Bunny” Love Hendrix

PRONOUNS: She/Her

ORIENTATION: Bisexual

RESIDENCE: Upper East Side, Manhattan

HOMETOWN: New York City, NY

OCCUPATION: Model & Influencer

MARITAL/RELATIONSHIP STATUS: Single

CURRENTLY

Bunny is a bonafide Upper East Side Bitch, born and raised. She’s somewhat of an it girl at the moment, both a successful model and flourishing socialite. But behind the pink silk and blonde curls there is most definitely a brain, as Bunny runs most of her own social media and general business. Her first big break was in Vanity Fair, and she semi-regularly graces it’s glossy pages. The daughter of an a-list actor and model, Bunny was always destined for greatness. But that greatness weighs heavy. Under her blunt and confident exterior, Bunny is a very tender hearted and sensitive person. Recently she went through a very public breakup with another (relatively) famous person, and she is trying to pick up her pride and her public image.

BIOGRAPHY

tw: eating disorder, hospitalisation, parental abuse

Born to Ethan Hendrix the actor, and runway model Kate Alexander, Bunny Love is the youngest of three children. Without a doubt she was spoiled rotten and besotted by her parents throughout her childhood. Bunny wanted a pony? Bunny got a pony. Her parents had no issue fulfilling her every material desire. Despite being from famous parentage, Ethan and Kate kept their children out of the spotlight, keeping their lives private. Bunny attended prep school, always maintaining good grades and practically ruling the school. She was the golden girl, at least on the outside.

Her mother started buying her clothes a size too small when Bunny was fifteen and a half, ridding her closet of all of her clothing that had been tailored to fit her perfectly. She had been gaining weight, her mother claimed, she hadn’t lost her baby fat and it was nearly time for her sweet sixteen. Her mother told her she needed to pull herself together and focus on how other people viewed her, viewed their family. Her parents got her a pink car for her birthday. She fit into the dress her mother picked out for her.

But she couldn’t keep it up forever. When Bunny was sixteen she was hospitalised for malnutrition and went through a year of rehab for anorexia. She missed the second half of her sophomore year, but the mystery surrounding her disappearance and the subsequent attention delighted her.

Bunny officially became queen bee when she returned for her junior year of high school, and she’s never looked back. She had her first modelling campaign at eighteen years old, right after she graduated high school. She decided to forgo a business degree once the ad campaigns started pouring in. Since then she has taken Tik Tok, Instagram, and the fashion industry by storm.

On the outside Bunny is extremely sure of herself and well put together. But all is not well beneath the surface. Bunny suffers extreme pressure from her family, from her parents as well as her exceptional older siblings who have never seemed to have the same issues as she has. She’s never been able to understand why she’s never quite enough to them. This bleeds into her self esteem, giving her a strong case of imposter syndrome and even plain loss of her own identity outside the shadow of what she’s meant to be. In edition, she never quite feels worthy of her success due to her family’s influence.

If you can crack Bunny’s hard exterior, you’ll be in her heart forever. But few come close.

CONNECTION IDEAS

(I will have a full wanted connections page up soon!)

penpal

fake boyfriend

ex with whom she had a very public breakup

various ex flings

two one older brother

other models - either people she’s close with, clashes with, or has just worked with

photographers that have shot her

reporters who have interviewed her

friends, folks that put up with her

fans

an assistant

[qualitytrann]

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[newstfionline]

‘There’s No Law’: Political Crisis Sends Nicaraguans Fleeing

By Kirk Semple, NY Times, Aug. 6, 2018

MANAGUA, Nicaragua--There is always a line outside the main passport office, often with several hundred people or more clutching documents and manila folders. It starts forming well before dawn. The demand is so great that it has bred a cottage industry of hustlers here in the capital who camp out on the sidewalk and sell places in line to the highest bidder.

It is one of many indications that something is gravely wrong here in Nicaragua.

With a violent political crisis that has ruined the economy and challenged President Daniel Ortega’s hold on power, people are fleeing the country in droves.

“It’s a terrible reality,” said Miltón, 36, who was far back in line, and asked that his surname not be published for fear of government reprisals. “It’s not a sustainable country.”

Nicaragua suddenly exploded in mid-April, when Mr. Ortega’s government announced changes to the social security program, setting off nationwide street protests that quickly turned violent. Demonstrators clashed with security forces and barricaded roadways across the nation, bringing commerce to a halt.

Human rights advocates contend that at least 300, and maybe as many as 450 people, have been killed and thousands wounded since the protests began, and that the vast majority were demonstrators shot by the police or by paramilitary forces working in concert with the authorities.

The government has also used torture and arbitrary detentions to crush dissent, according to officials in the Roman Catholic Church and members of the opposition, which has expanded to include business leaders angry at the president’s heavy-handed approach.

The Nicaraguan Pro-Human Rights Association, an advocacy group, said that nearly 600 people, mainly opponents to the government, had been kidnapped and that hundreds more were missing and possibly “disappeared.”

In the face of the government crackdown, street protests, once a daily occurrence, have subsided, replaced by the occasional peaceful march. But the crisis has entered a new phase, colored by widespread dread and a paralyzing uncertainty over what comes next.

“Total anxiety,” said Msgr. Carlos Avilés Cantón, the vicar general of the Archdiocese of Managua. “Every day waking up and asking, ‘How many deaths?’ Death, death, death. That’s what makes you sad.”

Talks between the government and the opposition fell apart last month, putting a political solution further out of reach. The government has continued to hunt down and jail opponents, and many observers, including the United Nations, worry that a new antiterrorism law is being used to criminalize members of the opposition, including those protesting peacefully.

“We’re in a very difficult stage,” said Álvaro Leiva, the director of the Nicaraguan Association. “It’s the stage of repression.”

Hundreds of protest leaders have gone into hiding or fled the country. Mr. Leiva said his team members had been threatened--it is unclear by whom--and forced to move out of their homes and sleep in a network of safe houses.

Mr. Ortega, who has refused the opposition’s demands to step down or hold early elections, has responded with a publicity blitz, giving interviews to several international news organizations, in which he has deflected blame for the bloodshed and sought to convey that the country is returning to normal.

But even some of Mr. Ortega’s closest allies acknowledge that Nicaragua is a mess. In an interview with The New York Times late last month, Paul Oquist, the minister private secretary for national policy, recognized the sense of fear and uncertainty in Nicaraguan society--on both sides of the conflict.

He seemed particularly concerned about the damage the nation’s economy had suffered, calling it “enormous.”

“We have to see what can be salvaged,” he lamented.

Tens of thousands of workers have been furloughed or laid off. Thousands of companies have closed. Foreign direct investment has nearly halted, and credit has been choked off.

The tourism industry has suffered widespread layoffs as the flow of international visitors has slowed to barely a trickle, and international airlines have slashed the number of inbound flights. About 80 percent of the country’s small hotels, which provide the vast majority of rooms, are closed, as are about a third of the country’s restaurants, said Lucy Valenti, the president of Nicaragua’s National Tourism Chamber.

“The first thing tourists look for is security,” Ms. Valenti said. “And we can’t guarantee that they will find security in Nicaragua.”

In Granada, a jewel of Nicaragua’s once-vibrant tourism industry, the colonial streets used to be full of visitors from abroad, visiting churches, tooling around in horse-drawn carriages or relaxing in its courtyard cafes. But on a recent afternoon, there wasn’t a tourist in sight.

Osman Guadamuy, languishing in the cab of his horse carriage in Granada’s central square, said business had never been so bad. In a week, he had been hired by tourists only once: a Mexican couple who wanted a tour of the city.

If he sold his horses, that might support his family through the rest of the year, at which he point, he said, he would probably have to migrate to Costa Rica.

The moribund state of affairs here in Nicaragua becomes most apparent at night, particularly in Managua and other cities, when fear of paramilitary forces and criminals taking advantage of the disorder drives Nicaraguans indoors.

Businesses start closing in the midafternoon and employees head home. By dusk, restaurants and bars have gone dark, and a de facto curfew goes into effect.

“We feel like prisoners in our houses,” said Xochilt Aguirre, the general manager of the Hotel Plaza Colón in Granada.

Throughout Nicaragua, lives have been turned upside down. At the beginning of the year, Laura Flores had a thriving yoga business and a new landscaping company. Then the crisis erupted.

Nearly all of her yoga clients fled the country, as did most of her closest friends. Her nascent landscaping business dried up, and as the body count mounted, she began to fear for her own safety.

“My independence went to hell,” she said. She has decided to join relatives in the United States.

José, a barber who was afraid to give his last name, said he had received death threats for posting criticism of the Ortega administration on his social media accounts. He closed his business and fled his home.

He said men disguised in balaclavas had appeared at his house, forced their way past his wife and two young children and ransacked the place, as well as his barbershop.

“I’m scared they’re going to do something,” he said. “They kill, they imprison, they torture.”

“There’s no law in Nicaragua,” he added. “There’s no law that can defend you.”

Most people seem to agree that the best way out of the crisis is through political negotiation, not weapons. Opposition leaders, government officials, human rights activists, international diplomats, people in the street--they all speak of the need for “dialogue.”

“Neither side can impose a settlement on the other, because that would not end the violence,” Mr. Oquist said.

It is hard to gauge how much support Mr. Ortega has. But those who do support him cite his arguments that he was legitimately elected, that the Constitution should govern whether he stays or leaves, and that the opposition is at fault for plunging the country into violence and disarray.

The longer the political impasse persists, many warn, the more likely that elements of the opposition may take up arms.