#half-price rentals

[bibleofficial]

LOVE ordering things online, HATE waiting at home for them to arrive 😭😭😭

[iwatcheditbegin]

I’m seeing so many people flying to Seattle for taycouver

[jellogram]

Currency conversions are such bullshit. I'll throw a price in a converter for work and it'll be like "1000 in XYZ money is 10 in USD" and then I'll read that you can buy a full meal at a restaurant for the calculator equivalent of 5 USD. Like if your conversion isn't "what is the equivalent buying power of this currency compared to yours" then what is even the point of converting??

[derinthescarletpescatarian]

Game that's a dating sim/time management style game, but you don't date anyone (or at least if you do, dating isn't the point). The premise is that you've gotten a new entry level job in your dream career in a town that's WAY too expensive for you to live in with zero available rentals, but due to a stroke of amazing luck and a distant family connection, you're able to score a rental in a nice community for a price you can just about handle. The catch is that you have to join the homeowner's association. Your landlord is distant, but expects you to keep in line with the HOA or get evicted.

The game consists of carefully managing your out-of-work time to keep up with the HOA's increasingly stringent list of rules about the appearance and maintenance of your property. If you don't spend enough time on yardwork and maintenance, you'll start to get violation warnings, but you also need to go to community events to avoid getting on the other members' shitlists and making enemies who'll look more critically at your property. You can buy leeway if you spend time schmoozing the other HOA people, helping them with crises, and siding with the more powerful figures in disputes. Your dream career is a background event in your life, focused more on keeping a roof over your head, but if you skip work to tend to HOA stuff you risk getting fired, and conversely if you put in extra hours and do really well you can get bonuses which you can use to pay a professional gardener or housekeeper and free up some more time. The power dynamic in the HOA can change, so be careful putting all your eggs in one basket relationship-wise lest your friends be on the outs and your enemies start looking for ways to get rid of you. But if you change your alleigances too often, you'll get a reputation as a fair weather friend, which can be equally dangerous. Getting too close to someone who ends up in a scandal could tarr you with an equally scandalous reputation, but you won't know what scandals are going on in the neighbourhood . Getting evicted or fired are both, of course, loss conditions, but showing up for work and [honing it in isn't too hard; you've always wanted to work at... uh... whatever it is that you're doing again. Never mind that. The most important thing in your life is making sure that the grass in the front lawn doesn't grow more than half an inch above the prescribed length.

[forsuretaxiinpune]

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[robertreich]

How Wall Street Priced You Out of a Home

Rent is skyrocketing and home buying is out of reach for millions. One big reason why? Wall Street.

Hedge funds and private equity firms have been buying up hundreds of thousands of homes that would otherwise be purchased by people. Wall Street’s appetite for housing ramped up after the 2008 financial crisis. As you’ll recall, the Street’s excessive greed created a housing bubble that burst. Millions of people lost their homes to foreclosure.

Did the Street learn a lesson? Of course not. It got bailed out. Then it began picking off the scraps of the housing market it had just destroyed, gobbling up foreclosed homes at fire-sale prices — which it then sold or rented for big profits.

Investor purchases hit their peak in 2022, accounting for around 28% of all home sales in America.

Home buyers frequently reported being outbid by cash offers made by investors. So called “iBuyers” used algorithms to instantly buy homes before offers could even be made by actual humans.

If the present trend continues, by 2030, Wall Street investors may control 40% of U.S. single-family rental homes.

Partly as a result, homeownership — a cornerstone of generational wealth and a big part of the American dream — is increasingly out of reach for a large number of Americans, especially young people.

Now, Wall Street’s feasting has slowed recently due to rising home prices — even the wolves of Wall Street are falling victim to sticker shock. But that hasn’t stopped them from specifically targeting more modestly priced homes — buying up a record share of the country’s most affordable homes at the end of 2023.

They’ve also been most active in bigger cities, particularly in the Sun Belt, which has become an increasingly expensive place to live. And they’re pointedly going after neighborhoods that are home to communities of color.

For example, in one diverse neighborhood in Charlotte, North Carolina, Wall Street-backed investors bought half of the homes that sold in 2021 and 2022. On a single block, investors bought every house but one, and turned them into rentals.

Folks, it’s a vicious cycle: First you’re outbid by investors, then you may be stuck renting from them at excessive prices that leave you with even less money to put up for a new home. Rinse. Repeat.

Now I want to be clear: This is just one part of the problem with housing in America. The lack of supply is considered the biggest reason why home prices and rents have soared — and are outpacing recent wage gains. But Wall Street sinking its teeth into whatever is left on the market is making the supply problem even worse.

So what can we do about this? Start by getting Wall Street out of our homes.

Democrats have introduced a bill in both houses of Congress to ban hedge funds and private equity firms from buying or owning single-family homes.

If signed into law, this could increase the supply of homes available to individual buyers — thereby making housing more affordable.

President Biden has also made it a priority to tackle the housing crisis, proposing billions in funding to increase the supply of homes and tax credits to help actual people buy them.

Now I have no delusions that any of this will be easy to get done. But these plans provide a roadmap of where the country could head — under the right leadership.

So many Americans I meet these days are cynical about the country. I understand their cynicism. But cynicism can be a self-fulfilling prophecy if it means giving up the fight.

The captains of American industry and Wall Street would like nothing better than for the rest of us to give up that fight, so they can take it all.

I say we keep fighting.

[angel5ofp0rn]

♡ part nine ♡

ExHusband!Price x f!reader

You and John have been pretty distant during the past two months, basically just coparenting in the same house.

You decided that depending on how this goes, how John and his ex wife interact, how the kids all get along, that's how you’ll decide the next step for the two of to get back together.

On the train from London to Bath, John holds your youngest in his lap and listen to her ooh's and ah's about being in a new country.

Meanwhile, you listen to every little question your oldest asks you about the new country, about the plane ride, about why everyone here “talks like daddy”.

After a while the train finally arrives at the station. John takes the lead out the door, carrying your oldest on his back as you carry the youngest on your hip.

The two of you are pretty silent, only talking to the children rather than each other.

The kids go crazy, suddenly getting a burst of energy as they explore the rental John booked for this trip.

They’re clearly more interested in the temporary house than anything else.

"So," you look at John as the kids giggle and wrestle on the floor. "When do we meet them?"

John takes a deep breath before he speaks. "Tomorrow morning. I thought the four of us could get breakfast and then head out to Nadia's house." He speaks carefully as if he’s trying not to say something that might upset you.

You just nod, turning your attention back to the kids.

He doesn’t say it, but he’s just as nervous as you. He doesn’t know what it’ll be like tomorrow, if the kids will all get along, if you and his other ex-wife will get along.

The kids definitely don’t sense any tension, that's for sure.

•••

You and John tucked the kids into bed in the larger room of the house, letting them share the king bed. It’s just John and you in the second room, separate beds, as had become the norm for the two of you.

John's quiet in his bed simply staring at the ceiling, his mind filled with thoughts of the following day.

"John..?" You sit up in your bed and look over at him.

John turns his head, a tiny bit surprised to see that you're still awake. He just gives you a small smile.

"Can't sleep?"

You shake your head. You’d been trying to sleep for the last two hours but the anxiety isn't letting you.

"Yeah... Neither can I..." John rubs his face and lets out a small sigh. He lifts his covers. "C'mon, love."

You should put your foot down or tell him off... But you don’t.

He has you. Divorce, secret family and all.

You slowly get out of your bed and crawl into his, instantly cuddling up to his warm body.

John wraps his arms around you, pulling you to his chest. He closes his eyes, savoring this moment with you.

You're in his arms, and although things between you two are still tense, you're at least here with each other.

Things are okay as long as you two are together, he thinks to himself before slowly starting to drift off to sleep.

•••

After breakfast the four of you head off. You have John park your rental car down the block hoping that the fresh air would help calm your nerves…

Or maybe you were just stalling.

John's leading the way, carrying your youngest in one arm and holding the oldest’s hand with the other.

The kids are both pretty excited to meet Theo. They took the news that their father has another child very well… That wasn’t surprising, as they're just kids and don't fully understand.

You, on the other hand, are a nervous wreck. You thought of what would happen if Nadia hates you, since John meeting you made him leave her, or what if Theo wants nothing to do with your kids, his half-siblings.

What if Nadia and John still have feelings for each other?

John looks over at you, noticing the slight panic and anxiety on your face even though you're trying to hide it from the kids. He keeps his expression calm, even when his heart feels like it's pounding out of his chest.

He knows you're going to have questions and feelings about this no matter what, but he just hopes the two of you can get through his visit with his other family without any more damage.

The four of you continue walking, the house that Nadia and Theo live in coming into full view. John's grip on your oldest’s hand tightens slightly, you could notice. He lets go of the five-year-old’s hand once you're all at the front door and he rings the doorbell.

After a moment Nadia stands in the doorway, her blonde hair pulled back in a claw clip, a small smile on her face...

Damn it, she's gorgeous.

She's older than you, John's age, with these gorgeous green eyes and the prettiest long eyelashes and full lips… She even has the cutest dimples in her cheeks.

You felt like couldn't even blame John if he decided today that he wants to go back to her.

John didn't really think much about Nadia's appearance. To him she was just an old flame of the past. She was beautiful, sure, but he had moved on years ago.

She was just his son’s mother.

But, seeing how you looked at her caused John a bit of pain. He knew it was bothering you. He wanted to assure you that there was nothing to worry about between the two of them, but he didn’t have a chance to do so just yet.

Instead, John smiles a bit as he starts to introduce you all.

"Nadia... Uh, this is Gabriel, my son.” Your oldest, just excited to see his older brother soon, waves a bit, "and this is Linnie, my little girl.” Your youngest, feeling shy around the stranger, buries her face into John’s chest.

John then gestures to you, turning his head towards you then glances back over at Nadia. "And this is Y/N... My, erm..."

"Ex-wife." You offer, blushing a bit. No need to complicate it. "It's really nice to meet you, Nadia. Thank you for letting us all be here."

Nadia smiles, genuinely. "Of course. I'm glad this is all finally happening. Come in, come in. Tea's on."

You follow behind John as we walk into Nadia's house, holding Gabriel's hand tightly.

John walks in with you and the kids, a lot of nervous energy still adiating from him. You sit at the table with everyone, holding your youngest in your lap now as your oldest sits between John and yourself.

"Where's my brother?" Your oldest whispers to John as Nadia sets tea in front of John and you, then herself as she sits across.

John looks down at your son and smiles, his nervousness temporarily gone when asked about Theo. "I'm sure he'll be out of his room in a moment."

Nadia just seems to be staring at John for a moment, her expression hard to read, before she smiles and gestures to the children. "These two are adorable."

"Thank you,” you laugh a bit. "They're a couple of little monkeys."

Nadia laughs as well, finding your description of your children funny. She takes a drink of her tea as she sets her cup down on the table. "They're beautiful. They really look like Theo when he was their ages."

As if on cue, Theo walks into the dining room.

Of course he’s gorgeous.

He looks like ten year old John.

He see's his dad and immediately runs up to him and hugs him tightly. You watch as John smiles widely, hugging his oldest son tightly.

Your oldest, upon seeing that John is now hugging his big brother, starts to get excited. He hops out of his seat and goes running towards Theo as well.

“Big brother!" The five year old’s arms immediately wrap around Theo and hugs him tightly as well. Theo hugs him back, unfazed, as if he's know him his entire life instead of this being their first time meeting.

"Oh my God…” You smile, the sight warming my heart.

Nadia seems to be having a similar reaction to you, grinning broadly as the two boys hug each other. She turns to look at your daughter for a moment, who just watches intently, taking in the sight of her brothers. She seems excited too, wiggling around in your lap to see them better.

"Do you want to meet Theo as well, little one?" Nadia asked her gently.

Your youngest nods shyly.

You put her on her feet, and the oldest child kneels down, anticipating a hug from the toddler.

Instead, the little one runs to Nadia and climbs into her lap for a hug instead. You and John both laugh, surprised by this.

Nadia smiles and wraps her arms around Linnie, hugging her tightly. Her embrace is comforting and reassuring to the bashful little one.

"It's nice to meet you, Theo." You finally smile at John and Nadia's son. "I'm Y/N."

Theo's smile grows as he sees you, his bright blue eyes studying you carefully almost like he's trying to memorize your appearance. "It's nice to meet you, too.”

"Can we play?!" Your oldest asked John’s oldest, then looked back to John for permission as well.

John nods quickly, giving him permission to play with his older brother. Nadia, meanwhile, just smiles and nods as well. "Theo has loads of Legos in his room. Go ahead. Get to know one another as well."

Your oldest smiles widely before following his “new” big brother to his room. Linnie just clings to Nadia's chest, looking between the two of you, trying to take everything in.

"I might just keep this little one." Nadia teased, hugging her a bit closer.

You can't help but smile. This isn't at all how you thought this would go.

It's so much better.

The boys are now playing in the room, building Legos and just enjoying each other's company. Your daughter seems content to be with Nadia, who's holding her in her lap, stroking her hair softly with her fingers and talking quietly with her.

You feel John take your hand under the table, squeezing it a bit as he sips his tea.

John leans in closely, whispering to you as Nadia speaks with your youngest. "Everything's goin’ well... right?"

You nod with a small smile, then sip at your tea as well. You watch as Nadia gets your little one to open up a bit, getting her to talk and giggle.

It only takes a few minutes before Nadia convinces the two year old to go into Theo's room and play with her big brothers, and to get to know Theo a bit. Now it's just her, John and you at the table.

John looks around and seems to sigh in relief, leaning back in his seat as he continues to squeeze your hand.

Nadia and you finally get a chance to have a proper conversation as the two of you continue to talk and sip on your tea.

Everything has gone so smoothly; especially now when Gabriel and Linnie seem to have just bonded with Theo like the three have known each other for years rather than just having met today.

John sighs a bit, smiling over at Nadia and you as she holds a conversation with you, seeming more than happy that things are working out.

For the first time in a long time, today he feels at ease, like everything's going just like it's supposed to go.

After spending the entire day together, You decide it's time to get the kiddos back to the rental and get them into bed.

John helps Nadia with the dishes after dinner while you help the kids clean up Theo's room after playing.

•••

You and John finish bathing the children after their long day and tuck them into the king bed once again.

John follows you into the other bedroom, shutting the door behind him as he goes over and sits on the edge of his bed. He just takes a deep breath in there, sighing as he rubs his face.

Today went well, sure. But that doesn’t exactly change anything between the two of you just yet.

You sit on John's lap, his arms instantly wrapping around your waist. It was just natural.

John just exhales. Your warmth against his chest helped him to feel at ease for a moment.

"Nadia is gorgeous." You sigh. "You didn't tell me that part."

John chuckles softly. "Don’t tell me you’re jealous.”

"How can I not be?"

John rubs his thumb over the top of your thigh. "She's my past, love... We don't have... We've never had what you and I have."

You look at him, meeting his eyes. You try to find even a tiny hint of dishonestly.

That makes the next part harder.

“I don’t understand how you could have done that to them.” You start slowly. “The man I married isn’t a man that would just abandon his family for some random girl at a bar.”

You could feel John tense at your words. You stand up off of his lap now, pacing the room a bit.

“I didn’t abandon them-“

“You left your wife and child in a different country. What would you call that?” You retort.

“You don’t understand how things were between Nadia and I before I met you.” John insists. “It’s not like I left a happy marriage.”

“You still left your child.” You shake your head. “If you visit fucking Italy right now and meet a younger woman, would you leave Gabe and Linnie back in the states and only see them once a month? I always thought, ‘maybe John and I aren’t a good match, but at least he’s a good dad’… But I don’t know if I believe that anymore.”

“I’m a damn good dad. To all of them.” John defends himself through gritted teeth.

“You’ve been lying to my kids their whole lives!”

“Your kids?” John quirked an eyebrow at that.

“My kids.” You double down, arms crossed.

“I don’t wanna fight.” John sighs finally, rubbing his eyes. “Can we talk about this in the morning?”

“Fine.” You exit the room, going back to where the kids slept, leaving John alone.

<< prev next >>

[ms-demeanor]

if we're like, showing graphs and stuff, this is the type that i think a lot of people on tumblr are thinking of when they think about the economy.

Only one third of people with family incomes below $50k spent less than their income each month. I would guess that a lot of people on tumblr who get aggro about this topic (and the vast majority of people on r/povertyfinance, who discuss this sort of thing a lot) fall into this earning category.

Real wage increases only matter if you got a raise (one third of workers got a raise last year, which means that 2/3rds didn't - included in the economic wellbeing report linked above). Whether or not rent is outpacing wages only matters if you're not going to be rent burdened (more than a third of renter households are cost burdened in every state and 12 million rental households spend more than half their income on rent). Employment rates lose a lot of meaning when you're working multiple jobs to make ends meet (the percentage of multiply employed workers was falling in the US from 1996 to the 2010s, when it plateaued, then it started rising slightly then collapsed in 2020 and has been rising steeply since then and it's too soon to tell if it's going to go back to the plateau or keep going up).

Four in ten adults in the US is carrying some level of medical debt (even people who are insured) and 60% of people with medical debt have cut back on food, clothes or household items; about 50% of people with medical debt have used up all their savings.

Tumblr is the broke people website and yeah, people who are working two jobs to afford $900 for one room and utilities in a three bedroom apartment are not going to feel great about the economy even if real wages are raising and inflation-adjusted rents are actually pretty stable. "The Rent is too Damn High" has been a meme for 14 years so, like, yeah. Even if it's pretty stable when adjusted for inflation it is stable and HIGH.

It's hard to feel good about the economy when you're spending the last few days of the pay period hoping nothing unexpected hits your account, and it's VERY frustrating to be told that the economy's doing well when you've had to start selling blood to buy groceries.

Sure, unemployment is low, that's neat. It's good that inflation has stabilized (it genuinely has; prices are not likely to fall back to pre-inflation rates and eventually you'll likely be paid enough to reach equilibrium, but a lot of people aren't there yet).

But, like, it costs eight thousand dollars a year out of pocket to keep my spouse alive. I'd guess that we've paid off about a third of the 40-ish thousands of dollars he's racked up since his heart attack. His medical debt is why I don't have a retirement plan beyond "I guess I'll die?" So talking about how good the economy is kind of feels like being chained in the bottom of a pit that is slowly filling with water while people on the surface talk about the fact that the rain is tapering off. Neat! That's good! But I can't really see it from where I'm standing.

Inflation really is getting better. My state just enacted a $20 minimum wage for fast food workers. The Biden administration has worked hard to reduce many kinds of healthcare costs. A lot of people have had significant portions of their student debt cancelled.

But a lot of people are still having trouble affording groceries and it doesn't seem helpful to say "your perception of the economy is decoupled from the reality of the economy" on the "can I get a few dollars for food today?" website.

[red5tars]

all that remains, pt.2

simon x soapsdaughter!reader | past ghoap

cw: discussions of death, soap is dead, alcohol/drinking mentions, brief instances of homophobia (not from simon nor reader)

prev | next

synopsis: after going no contact for nearly two decades, simon riley gets the closure he's always needed with his sergeant. except its through his daughter.

simon can count the funerals he’s been to on one hand.

the first was his gran's, a distant woman whose more memory than material. despite that, he can still make out the many lines on her face, the portrait that they used, and the way his mother squeezed his hand, the other half resting on her protruding belly.

second funeral, which he's unsure if he should count it, comes a year after his gran's. the year 4 class pet, findleton fishgerald, was found belly up upon walking into mrs.barett's room. playtime was instead used as a period for mourning, him and his fellow classmates listening to their teacher give a speech about the poor goldfish.

(now that he thinks about it, fish looked more like a corpse each passing day. it was only matter of time before the little guy kicked the bucket. well, swam out of it)

the third funeral was for multiple people, but they were mourned and packed into an urn on the same day so it counts as one. the contents of said urn include his mother, brother, sister-in-law, and his nephew.

it sticks with simon. his nephew in particular. he died when he was four, his first (and last) encounter with death beating simon's.

the few days after were a blur, but he can still taste the aftermath of his carnage, as well as the whiskey he drank following it.

now, he's attending his fourth funeral. johnny's.

well, 'attend' is an overstatement. stalking is a better describes simon. sitting in the shitty rental he got, parked in the second lot over of the cemetery, away from everyone who claims to love johnny.

bet they didn't love him like he did.

if he wanted too, he could walk over to the gas port, remove the cigarette from his chapped lips and toss it in there. last thing he sees would be this rusty pick-up, his soul barreling towards damnation.

he won't, knowing the muppets that come across his remains will leave him here, too close and yet too far from his johnny.

to others, it may be difficult seeing the gathering, but a trained eye like simon sees everything. he can make out gaz and price from the crowd, as well as johnny's mum.

age has not done her any favors, looking as bitchy as the day he met her. still, she was an important person to johnny.

if only she accepted he was too.

briefly, he thinks about getting out of his car, walking towards what would be a scandalous, bittersweet reunion. sure, price and gaz'll be there to defend him if things get ugly, but blood is thicker than water. even if the string binding johnny and him was red.

(is it severed because he's dead? or does it go deeper? six feet under and unfrayed)

he decides to let them mourn without his interference. the last thing he needs is that hag telling him this is all his fault, with his agendas and whatever the fuck they rant about at churches now.

without sparing a glance, he starts the rental. a small part of him is thankful for parking so far away, the obnoxious rumble of the engine would reveal his location if he were a few feet closer.

he backs out of the spot before heading south, vowing to come back later. only johnny and him.

and the groundskeeper, if his unlucky streak continues.

——————————————————————————

it continues.

shouldn't have. he came back in the middle of the night, the witching hour. while he isn't into the paranormal, a foolish part of him thought johnny's spirit might say some parting words. unless he already left the plane. bastard.

if anything, he was prepared for an intimate moment with the scot, say what he's wanted to say, or at least attempt to. the only feeling he can properly communicate is anger, this aching sadness an unwelcomed yet familiar weight on simon.

that's what he was ready for.

he wasn't ready to find a woman dressed in pajamas and an arm sling kneeling in front of johnny's gravestone.

while he can still see quite far, the night obscures more than it used too, only clocking her when he's a few feet away.

strange, he doesn't recognize her from the funeral crowd. then again, he didn't care for anyone else besides the corpse.

he thinks about retreating, would probably be best to visit when the sun's up, rather than lurk like some ghoul.

simon's begun to turn on his heel when a scream pierces through the air.

he turns back around to find the girl, hunched over the tombstone, clutching it with her free arm. her screams are alarming, like a siren going off in the middle of the night. it might just be a loon, having escaped the bin and is hugging stranger's tombstones because they aren't sane (neither is simon, but he has a semblance of common decency).

it's another sign he needs to go, do a 180 and come back in the morn. though, he pauses upon hearing the girl let out a strangled cry that vaguely resembles "dad.."

no, that can't be right. he knows the crash didn't just involve johnny, his whole family too (unfortunately not his mom).

he knows for certain johnny's wife didn't make it, but the daughter.. the daughter..

he turns back around, zeroing in on her like she's a target. it's hard to see her features, and from what he can see she looks nothing like johnny.

but she is injured. and a girl. and she keeps crying for her mom and dad rather loudly and-

fuck.

there's no denying that before him is johnny's kid. johnny’s daughter.

a mess of a woman, snot and tears running down her face, her skin stretching after she lets out another sob, curved lines surrounding her anguish.

he has to retreat now. simon has, and wants, no business with any of the other mactavish's. if she's anything like the rest of them, he's sure the girl hates him, will damn him to an eternity in hell if he so much as approaches her.

so for the third time that night, simon begins to turn, set on leaving this cemetery and never coming back. what's another twenty years without johnny? he's lived his life in constant pain, won't stop now.

he's taken about three more steps when something rustles underneath him. simon looks down, his foot landing on a pile of leaves. it isn't loud, but it's loud enough to get johnny's daughter (whose cries have quieted down by a few decibels) attention.

"..hello?" it comes out just as tear-filled as her other proclamations have. his back remains turned. if he can't see her, she's not there. this is all some fucked night terror, and he's going to wake up in his johnny's arms in 3, 2, 1-

"i said hello," her voice is a bit more firm, as if she's fully materialized into a person rather than some grief-stricken thing. reluctantly, simon turns , the girl now standing before him. the soft light of the moon illuminates her tear-stained face, the knees of her pants dirtied from kneeling over her parents' grave.

to think, his johnny would have a kid without saying anything. it might be low, but given how simon reacted to their split, he can't blame the man.

the silence continues to stretch on between them. poor kid, probably waiting on simon to break it. he's surprised her first instinct isn't to run or scream for help, but people in mourning tend to forget themselves in their grief.

simon knows firsthand.

a frown stretches across her face when she realizes simon isn't going to say anything. she sighs, wiping her damp face with the back of her hand.

"look, i'm not on anything, and- and i was here earlier for a funeral i just..," she takes in a shuddering breath, her whole body becoming loose as she exhales, "i need more time with my folks," a pause, "alone."

it's a sentiment simon knows all too well, having lost many people. even the damned fish, he wished he was able to spend more time with it.

and simon's ready to oblige, bid her 'goodbye' wordlessly, make her think he was just some hallucination her sorrow conjured up. be nothing more than strangers in an awkward situation.

although, this isn't just a stranger. this is johnny. well, his daughter. and even if she's annoyed at him, its not for the reasons he thought it be.

in another universe, he's already left. hell, he hasn't even shown up in the first place. but in this one, he doesn't do any of that.

instead, simon does the unthinkable;

“pint for your troubles?”

he offers her a drink.

[seat-safety-switch]

"Look, bud," started the jackbooted thug. He was splitting his attention between threatening me, and watching our waiter so he could tell him when he had "enough" grated cheese on his spaghetti combo. "We want you out of the business."

The waiter coughed gently. My opponent glared at him. Cheese continued to fall like rain between us, accumulating in a small mountain on top of the steaming 'sta.

For a couple years now, it has been like this. They simply do not know how to compete with my low, low prices. I accepted the offer to come out to dinner because, you know, free meal, knowing full well that I would be threatened and possibly whacked in the parking lot. As the grater runs dry, I wonder if there will be any parmesan left for me when it is my turn. The waiter notices I am staring at it, and shrugs a half-apology. There's no way they only brought out one chunk of the good stuff.

"If I agree to sell – and that's an if," I finally speak, "I never want to work again."

We both know now that I am a whore, and we are merely arguing on price. Tension has left the room. Unfortunately, so has the cheese. In disgust, the waiter disappears into the kitchen, leaving behind a dissatisfied mobster and, worst of all, a cheeseless me. My naked spaghetti gleams obscenely beneath the gently flickering Inexpensive House Brand® LED lighting.

So this is how it ends. I never wanted to be in the bouncy castle rental business anyway.

[lanormie]

blipped - mcu crossover au (pt. 5)

what if? the event of Thanos snap happened in the BNHA universe? you're forced to navigate the aftermath of The Blip, where half of the population get thrown back into existence after disappearing for five years. pairing: pro-hero!Shouto x f!pro-hero!reader (ft. slight katsuki x reader) read on AO3 previous part - next part

Hawks has you started right away, and you’re thankful for it. Time spent idle is time to dwell, even time spent with Shouto in Fuyumi’s room catching up with her stock of mangas does not occupy your mind enough to soften the agony.

So here you are, on a roundabout train route (cause who knows when the direct route is going to get restored) across town to your new agency at 5 in the morning. You’ll need to find a new apartment soon, commuting like this everyday will be time consuming, not to mention hellish with how much it allows you to steep in your thoughts. On top of that, Shouto is helping Rei bring his Dad home this morning, and even though the man will be unconscious, you’re not too keen on existing in the same space as him.

You and Endeavor share a mutual disdain towards each other. The whole time you grew up with Shouto and around the Todorokis, he didn’t speak more than a handful of words to you, only pinning you with a hateful glare whenever he called your friend away. Once severe wounds started showing up on Shouto and he started becoming defiant, you two would start coming up with schemes to get him out of training, or simply sneak away on days he didn’t particularly feel like dealing with his Dad.

And after you found out you also got into UA, your cousin mysteriously got a once in a lifetime job offer in another city, and you had to move away the week before school started, your dream of taking part in the most prestigious hero course crushed. Surprise surprise, you found out later that it was Endeavor who pulled some strings to relocate her, but there was nothing you could do at that point.

As soon as you became independent, you returned to your hometown to find the man had mellowed out a bit. But still, the bastard never offered an apology.

And you’re not about to spend any significant amount of time around him, no thanks.

You open up the rental app on your phone to start an apartment search around Hawks’ agency, and your eyes pop out of their socket.

.

You:

you won’t BELIEVE how much apartments are going for

i might have to sleep under my desk

Sho:

I was talking to Natsuo yesterday

He said a lot of housings were converted into commercial space

Since they were all sitting empty

And now the ones that are left are quickly filling up

You:

yikes

i doubt anything will get passed fast enough to stop the price gouging

anyway

you ready to see sleeping beauty?

Sho:

?

You:

your dad

Sho:

Absolutely not.

Thankfully I have some paperwork I have to do after

So I won’t have to stick around for long once he’s home

I have to go now

I’ll see you later

* * * * *

You’re only one step deep in the door before a feather snatches your bag away and another swoops you backwards and up into the air by your tool belt. You catch a glimpse of Touya two-finger saluting you from one of the upper floor windows on your way up to Hawks, who’s already on the move.

“Morning!” He chirps, looking five coffees deep already at 8AM. “My staff’s gonna handle your paperwork, you’re with me today, hope you don’t mind.”

“Are you kidding?” You flip over and speed up to catch up with him. “I’d rather be out here than sifting through 500 pages of jargon.”

“You’re speaking my language.” He calls the feathers back to his gliding wings now that you’re flying on your own. “Didn’t think you would call back so soon.”

In the whipping winds, you only mutter a barely audible ‘yup’ that tells Hawks everything he needs to know. He slows down to hand you an earpiece.

“If it helps, your old place has terrible PTO policies.” His voice crackles on comms.

“Hey!” You snort. “They were practically raised by Eraserhead, have you seen the man? How can they possibly know anything about time off?”

Hawks full-belly laughs at this, the echoes of his voice in the wind and the sound from your earpiece reverberate in a way that is kind of…foreign.

Right. You’re not with your friends anymore. Mina is not cackling on comms at something Toru said. Denki and Kiri are not talking over each other. Kyoka is not using the wrong channel to flirt with Momo. The one zooming in front of you is not Shouto, Izuku, or Tokoyami.

Or Katsuki.

A page has been turned, yet you’re still wedged in between chapters like a bookmark.

“Trouble’s ahead.” A voice cuts through your gloom. “Robbery on 35th.”

“Put me to work, bossman.” You straighten up, eager to put your inner turmoil on the backburner.

From this point on, you’re truly going it alone.

* * * * *

“You are not going it alone.”

Shouto looks up from his spot at the conference table, where you found him after coming back from patrol with Hawks. You had been led here to finish signing some papers, and you opened the door to Shouto sitting in front of his own contract. He reminded you that ‘I did say I would see you later’, as if that was enough information. So here you are, arguing about how a decision as important as an agency switch should not be made on a whim.

“You can drop the papers off by my desk when you’re done.” Hawks’ personal assistant gives you both a polite smile before making her exit, closing the conference room door behind her.

Trying to ignore the fact that you just made an awkward first impression on the lovely lady, you turn back to Shouto.

“What about your friends?”

“They’ve gone on without me for five years. I doubt my absence will make an impact.”

There’s a tick of something adjacent to sadness in his statement. It’s still spoken as evenly as ever, but it’s void of his usual nonchalance. You suddenly realize, that this is the first time in the past week he lets shown - albeit through a tiny glimpse - that he is not as unaffected by the whole situation as you thought he might be.

Shouto too was misplaced in time. He too is now a jagged piece in the puzzle. In one way or another, you two have each other to commiserate. 

That is until your pursuit of abandoning everything, where you’ve accidentally abandoned him as well.

Your argument dissipates into thin air.

“Do you think we’d ever catch up?” You take a seat next to your two-toned friend.

“I don’t think we need to.” Shouto pens his signature at the bottom of a page, then turns to you. “I’d rather focus on what’s right in front of me.”

You blow air through your lips, completely missing the hint of fondness in his phrase. “You’re probably right, things will get very tense very soon.”

Grabbing a pen nearby, you move to look through your own paperwork, just as a loud knock comes through the…windows? On the 8th floor?

You both look up to see Touya slap a piece of paper onto the glass before getting promptly yoinked away by Hawks. It says in obnoxiously large letters ‘5000 yens. On my desk. Tomorrow. Loser.’

Shouto looks back at you.

“You are very prone to being blackmailed.”

* * * * *

You had managed to explain it was a bet that you didn’t agree to take part in, instead of a blackmail, before Shouto dozed off like he always does on train rides.

You haven’t taken a train with Sho since middle school, so this is extremely nostalgic. You two would always start watching some show or video on his phone with shared earbuds, then he would slip right into a coma half way through, earbud still blaring.

Except now he is a head taller and when he tips over in your direction, his cheek would knock painfully against the top of your noggin.

“You got shorter.” He mumbles groggily, hand reaching for the hood of your hoodie and flipping it over your head.

“Maybe I lost some particles getting put back.” You snort, watching him put up his own hood. “Or maybe it’s your Dad’s genes finally kicking in.”

“That would not be good news for doorways.” He resettles on your head, now that it’s properly cushioned. “Speaking of my Dad, are you okay with him being there?”

“Sho, it’s his house.” You remind him. “Plus, he’s not exactly awake to stare me down or kick me out.”

“Still. He doesn’t inspire comfort.” He muses, perhaps more to himself than to you.

You shrug, and Shouto goes quiet for a while. For a moment you thought he'd fallen back asleep, but then you hear him suck in a breath and speak up again.

“If we can’t find our own apartment, would you like to split one with me?”

You want to turn to look at his face, but his cheek stays steadfast on your head.

You’ve never really co-inhabited with anyone before, except for your cousin. When you got an apartment, despite Katsuki staying over pretty regularly, it was still your own space. You used to prefer it like that. But now after everything, you feel like loneliness would consume you whole at any moment.

Moving in with your best friend doesn’t sound bad at all.

“Only if we keep the thermostat at a reasonable temperature.”

You swear you could feel him smile through layers of hair and fabrics.

“Deal.”

[kenyatta]

Optimists blame these uncomfortable figures on inevitable volatility. Prices are choppy from month to month, and inflation tends not to fall in a straight line. Moreover, there is also a statistical delay: the lagged effect from a surge in house rents in 2021 and 2022. This is now the main contributor to high inflation data. The cost of shelter accounted for slightly more than half of the annual increase in core CPI in November. Although rent hikes have slowed markedly since the height of the covid-19 pandemic, house-price measures in inflation indices remain frustratingly elevated because they are based on rents for all tenants and, because rental contracts can be multi-year, the increases of earlier periods take time to pass through. The measures have started to decelerate, but are doing so slowly. “There’s a strong argument that shelter prices are just goofy. It’s a technical thing, and it needs to flow through,” says Luke Tilley of Wilmington Trust, an investment firm.

[fuck-customers]

Genuine question, how do I care less about my job? Warning this is long but this doesn't even include all the details.

I'm so fed up with my coworkers doing the same shit that was brought up in multiple meetings to not do, yet they still do it, and they seem to do it worse. Don't take longer than your time allowed from breaks. Both of them will take longer than their 15min and lunch break. Don't dissappear without saying something. Both still do this so when I'm stuck at the register calling out for someone who's not there cause they disappeared, I look like a dumbass. Don't go shopping while on the clock, and during our 15s we're on the clock. It was only the one girl who would do this constantly, walking off, leaving me alone upfront, shopping. But my other coworker decided she's gonna go shopping for plants for her friend while she's on the clock, not on a break, on a Tuesday morning which Tuesdays the phone line always blows up. Thus leaving me alone to fend for myself. I've brought up these things in meetings multiple times, and they STILL do it.

Those meetings are arranged by my boss, who knows well of my complaints, but my coworkers clearly don't care. Even the one manager above my boss knows that they leave me upfront and has seen it twice on the *same Sunday, a busy day, and has even told them that they need to be more cognizant of the front end and help out cause I'm drowning in customers and the phone ringing.

I do 90% of the shit required for the giftshop at work. I do the morning and night counts for the register, I water the plants in the parking lot, I water the plants in the atrium, I run the register, do deliveries and rentals and installs, water the orchids and African violettes, mist the airplants, water the ladybugs, help out customers, clean up messes. YET. I leave alone one area, the 2" area to either one of my coworkers, and I am *CONSTANTLY finding dead plants, either by rot, dried out, or somethin else. Half of that section, which the entirety of the 2" is only a quarter size of the atrium, at most, is succulents, cacti and sansevierias! Stuff that doesn't need watering that much!! But still my one coworker manages to over water them despite me and the other coworker telling her to stop watering them so much. Yet when I tell her she needs to water the moss ferns and calatheas more, she doesn't do jack shit to them. It's come to the point that even thou my boss says to keep all 2" stuff in one area, I've taken it upon myself to ignore that and put any and all 2" ferns in the atrium fern shelf, including moss ferns, so they actually get watered. And they're waaaay better in there. I haven't had to throw a SINGLE 2" fern away yet due to it being dead somehow. Even my one coworker, the guy, agrees that even thou boss said to keep 2" in one area, that I should probably keep them in the atrium.

I have to leave tasks alone for my coworkers to do them but even then they still don't do them!

Also, anythin goes wrong, *I'm the one who gets asked about it, even if my name was nowhere near it, even if I wasn't there that day!! I got asked why the coworker guy put a delivery on a Tuesday. We don't do deliveries Tuesday. He knows that. He's been working there longer than I have. It's literally written on the calender. The kicker, I wasn't even there that day. That was a rare Sunday or Saturday that I took off, so I wasn't even there to tell coworker to not put it on a Tuesday.

Anythin else that goes wrong, I'm the one they ask 'what happened' or have to fix it. I get in trouble for my mistakes but it seems like they don't get in trouble for theirs.

I am a hard worker and I am good at my job and I'm not a slacking ass. When I say I'm being left alone, it's not cause I'm new. I've been there for a year now, I know how to do all the things. It's cause I'm expected to do all the things. I get lines of customers upfront and zero help. We don't have barcodes so I have to manually type quantity and price in thr computer, which often requires me to leave the register, go around, write down all that, then type it in thr computer. Which takes quite a bit of time if they cart is jackshit full. It would be way easier if my coworkers followed the damn rule of one behind the register one saying prices. But no, that's too hard for them.

Even when I ask for the help, I still don't get it. Or when I tell them what I need, they still don't do it. Yet it's somehow my fault for not getting the help.

So, if they don't have to follow the rules, why should I? If they can't do the tasks, why should I? Because I'm the one who gets in trouble if the tasks don't get done. I can't even 'slack' cause it's somehow my fault.

Since my coworkers want to take longer than their allowed break times, so am I. Since they can't give me the courtesy to tell me when they leave the giftshop, I won't either. Since they don't wanna help me on the register. Oh, a spontaneous rush? Suddenly I conveniently don't notice nor are they actually asking me for help. Throw me to the wolves don't be surprised when I give them a taste of their own medicane. My boss one time even made a joke about there being a rush. I was watering the atrium so this was still in the morning. I hadn't noticed so by the time I was done the rush was gone. She made a joke that that was the least stressful rush I've been a part of, which I said 'yeah cause for once I wasn't in it', saying how I'm always in the rushes, which she makes some joke and I give her an annoyed look cause she knows I'm always in rushes with no help, which she had. She says oh don't take it personal it's a joke. Jokes are supposed to be funny. Mocking me that I do most of the work around here no help isn't funny.

TL;DR: How do I care less about my job despite me gettin in trouble for things that go wrong? I've brought my slacking coworkers up to my boss multiple times, nothings changed in the end. I want to do a good job cause I'm the type of person who is hard worker but if I slack too much, plants die then *I get in trouble. I'm constantly stressed and mad at my coworkers and rude customers and I get snappy, which still gets me in trouble.

Posted by admin Rodney

[allthemurders]

Walter Sullivan’s car

I spent literally four hours researching this for a throwaway line in a fic which doesn’t even apply anymore. Please appreciate my nerdiness so this doesn’t go entirely to waste 😭😭

This is Walter Sullivan’s car — a 1954 Jaguar XK120 Drophead Coupé (DHC), Special Equipment (SE) version.

These were manufactured in 1953–1954. Only 295 right-hand drive versions of the XK120 DHC were made, with less than 40 right-hand drive SE versions

The DHC SE was basically the “sport version” of the DHC. It had a 3.4 litre engine which produced 180–190 bhp, up from the regular DHC’s 160 bhp. I’m uncertain about its top speed, but the Open Two-Seater (OTS) model on which the DHC was based had a reported top speed of 125 mph, and could achieve 0–60 mph in 10 seconds. This made it the fastest production car in the world as of its debut in 1949, a title it seems to have carried until 1953

The DHC SE version had the following improvements on the DHC:

Wire wheels, meaning increased cooling to the brakes

Uprated torsion bars & rear springs

More powerful engine with high-lift cams

Dual exhaust system (this one was possibly an optional extra on top of the usual SE offerings?? Basically I found some sites that say the DHC SE had a single exhaust, except in the entirely unexplained “Super Sports model”… but also that might just be a difference between UK & US models, idk)

I wasn’t able to find information on original prices for the DHC SE, but you could probably make a rough estimate based on the following:

Apparently the OTS cost £1600 in 1953. (For context, the average house price was £1800 and the average salary was £10 a week)

The DHC probably would’ve cost more than the OTS, as it came with additional comforts such as a lined roof, external door handles, roll-up windows, opening quarter lights, and wood-veneered dashboards & door-caps

The DHC SE would’ve cost more than the regular DHC due to its further additional features and more powerful engine

Walter’s car in particular also has optional extras of Lucas fog lights and a Radiomobile car radio. It possibly also has (unseen) optional extras of a larger fuel tank and/or an underbody steel shield

Of course, after I’d spent literally four hours researching this (most of which was spent struggling to figure out if it actually was an SE version, or if it was just a regular DHC with some optional extras), I finally came up with the much simpler and easier idea of just. googling the car model + “hire”. Which immediately brought up the hire website for the exact car used in the show:

Although it doesn’t specifically say it’s the SE version, the 180 hp is a clear indication. Why did I not think to do this like three and a half hours sooner,,,,

Also put the registration plate through the DVLA checker to get the 1954 manufacture date! Apparently it was first registered in July 1954, if you want to be particularly specific

Anyways. TL;DR: Walter Sullivan’s car is only like a year old; it’s fast, fancy, and super rare… and most of all, it’s ridiculously expensive

[mariacallous]

New York Gov. Kathy Hochul wants to ban the use of real estate management software that sets rent prices via algorithm—what federal prosecutors say can amount to collusion that artificially inflates rents during a nation-wide housing crisis. Hochul is expected to announce the proposal in her State of the State speech Tuesday, a week after the U.S. Justice Department sued six of the country’s biggest landlords for allegedly using “anticompetitive pricing algorithms” to set rents. “I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: the rent is too damn high and New Yorkers need our help,” Gov. Hochul said in a statement shared with City Limits ahead of her annual address.

“Last year, we passed the most significant housing legislation in generations, working to build more supply and increase tenant protections,” Hochul continued. “There’s more work to do, which is why I’m proposing new legislation to crack down on algorithmic abuses that increase the cost of living and force rents sky-high. We need to ban the sale or use of price-fixing software—so tenants have a fair shot at an affordable home.”

Should her proposal pass, New York would join jurisdictions like San Francisco and Philadelphia in prohibiting such software, which often uses competitor data to set suggested rents. A report by the White House’s Council of Economic Advisers in December that sought to “quantify the anticompetitive impact of algorithmic pricing on rents across the country” estimated the practice cost renters $3.8 billion in 2023, what its authors warned “is likely a lower bound on the true costs.”

“Algorithmic pricing weakens competition because it can facilitate price coordination among landlords who would otherwise be competing,” the White House report reads. “Our analysis indicates that if price coordination was eliminated, there would be an economically meaningful decrease in price mark-ups for rental units using pricing algorithms.”

Among the most popular of these technologies comes from the company RealPage, which is the target of an antitrust lawsuit filed by the Justice Department, following reporting on its practices by the investigative news outlet ProPublica. RealPage has characterized the criticism against it as “demonstrably false,” saying its customers have “100 [percent] discretion to accept or reject software price recommendations.”

But in its legal complaint against the company and six major landlords who used the software, the DOJ alleges that, “RealPage replaces competition with coordination.”

“It substitutes unity for rivalry. It subverts competition and the competitive process,” the complaint reads. “It does so openly and directly—and American renters are left paying the price.”

Nationwide, nearly half of the 42.5 million renter households in the U.S. are considered rent-burdened, meaning they spend at least a third of their income on housing, according to the U.S. Census Bureau.

In New York, that rate is even higher, with more than 52 percent of renters meeting that threshold, according to an analysis by the state comptroller last year.

Gov. Hochul is set to deliver her State of the State beginning at 1 p.m. Tuesday. The speech will be livestreamed on the governor’s website here.

[duck-ducks]

Thomas rents a semi truck that he affectionately nicknames Dolly.

“Dolly” however, just so happens to be a very embarrassed, very unamused, undercover Optimus Prime.

 She was a beauty. 

Gleaming red paint, newish tires, and a cute face like decal on the steering wheel and grill. 

And now she was all Thomas Winston’s, for the short foreseeable future as she was a rental from the company he worked for and in fact they had insisted that he take the very nice and somewhat new looking truck for his next haul. For half the price he would have expected too.

Why they specifically wanted this truck to get a bunch of crates of rocks, who knew and honestly who cared. The engine ran nicely and she drove smooth as hell. Thomas wasn’t about to complain about the oddities a bunch of pencil pushers had about which trucks were to pick up some shiny rocks.

Getting on the highway this early ensured the road was damp and empty. That worked out pretty well for Thomas, he was quite fond of just driving on the open road with just he, himself, and him. The only sound being the engine running, the tires on the road and, the radio quietly playing some country song about how great red dresses and beer are. 

It was perfect.

Now all he needed was a name for the truck.

Thomas had nicknamed every truck he rented no matter how long he was in them, some little thing would stick out about the truck, the job, or just general events. Thus far the only thing was the insistence that this particular truck be taken on the haul but nothing nickname worthy so far.

He patted the steering wheel. “We’ll find something to call you, I'm sure.” 

The song on the radio ended and the host began talking way too excitedly for this early in the morning, just as he thought to change the station the next song began. A song he knew well, it was one of his daughter’s favorites, Jolene by Dolly Parton. Madeline was all grown up now but when she was little she would dance around the kitchen and living room with Sherry, the most beautiful woman in the world that he got to call his wife, while Dolly Parton played.

Dolly had first played first on a radio that had both cassette player and cd player while matching brunette heads twirled and hopped around and then later on an ipod speaker, some of that hair a little grayer and now on a bluetooth speaker that you can talk to, a single all gray head swayed and hummed. 

It was always Dolly that he would come home to then and after this haul was done he hoped it would be Dolly that he came home to now.

Jolene ended, and with a few words from the radio host played ‘here you come again.’ 

“Well how about that? You know this will be my last drive and I hope I’ll be hearing a lot more like this once I’m home more." The little face on the steering wheel didn’t look back at him. “Dolly is as good a name as any and you seem as good a truck.” and thus it was decided the pretty red truck would be Dolly.

~~~

 Optimus was not amused by this development.

He didn’t like that he needed a driver for the long drive. He didn’t like that none of the agents who knew what he was didn’t have the right license to drive him so that had to get someone else, which meant he would have to go the entire drive stuck in his alt mode and unable to talk, thankfully it could be made in one day.

To make matters even worse his high command had insisted he keep his internal comm on just in case something happened, so whoever was on monitor duty could hear everything that his driver said.

Including his delightful new nickname. 

He was unable to voice his annoyance while his driver was still around however he was currently working on a scathingly worded email to his two dear “friends.”

And because the universe would not grant Optimus any peace. “I ain’t making fun of you Prime, I mean I wouldn’t want to hurt your feelings you’re just a purty little thin-” Ironhide wasn’t able to fully finish his remark before Ratchet silenced him via what Optimus hoped was a fist to the side of the head. “Hey! I thought medics weren’t allowed to cause harm!”

“Don't worry I’m sure the thickness of your helm will have protected you.” technically they were only supposed to contact Optimus if there was an emergency, but Ironhide as one of his oldest friends decided it was his duty to make fun of him whenever the chance was given. Ratchet was but an innocent bystander to the scoffery and was coming to his rescue- “Obviously you have to be careful with your words around someone as delicate as Dolly Prime.” Optimus could hear the laughter in Ratchet's voice.

“Dolly Prime, name granted to him by the great Thomas.” Ironhide never did know when to quit.

Optimus was tempted to end the open comm. Nothing was happening, it was early and dark and there was no danger. He could just reopen it if anything were to happen.

“Maybe we shouldn’t have sent him on his own. I mean I would be devastated if anything were to happen to our beloved Do-” 

His rationalization and the self preservation of his sanity won. He clicked the comm off.

~~~

 A couple hours later he and Dolly had arrived. 

The whole thing had seemed strange as soon as he had pulled into the parking lot. 

The place was creepy. Crates upon crates of these blue rocks sat inside the warehouse, various people in suits stood around by all the exits and a man in an even fancier suit had talked to Thomas while the crates were loaded onto Dolly. 

Fancy suit man had introduced himself as senior director Hendrickson, he didn't say what he was the director of but he had bought Thomas lunch from a local grocery store and asked that he not leave while the truck was loaded as they intended to be as fast as possible. 

Sitting a distance away he could see a couple people talking in the direction of Dolly. They didn’t look like they were talking to each other, they also didn’t look like they were interacting with each other at all, just talking at the truck.

~~~

 Being loaded was an uncomfortable affair. Humans tended to forget, even when talking to him, that he could feel every time they touched him. Most would step in little crevices to lift themselves onto Optimus, stack things unevenly, and tell him things he was certain they wouldn’t have told other humans. He was sure if they worked efficiently he could have been back on the road much faster but they insisted that their way of doing things was superior to any of his suggestions. Stubborn little things humans were, it was sometimes a blessing but currently a bit of a curse. 

Agent Fowler had not been assigned to this particular matter and that in of itself meant a little more discomfort for Optimus. Fowler was good at convincing his fellows to seriously consider Optimus’s opinions on the little matters. Such as not stepping on his tires to give themselves a little lift when he had foot holds for that very reason damn it. 

He knew this trip was important, he didn’t want to send only humans to deal with the energon collection. It was a bit unstable in its solid crystal form, should anything happen, such as the appearance of a decepticon, he would be more comfortable being able to handle it himself.

Having said that, He was not about to suddenly become fond of senior director Hendrickson putting his foot on the front of his grill. He was uncomfortable, he had dirt in his seams and he couldn’t talk louder than a whisper in fear that his driver would hear him. How much trouble would it bring if he told senior director Hendrickson off, if Optimus just told him where he could shove it. How much damage would that really do to human relations? The director has had to deal with the twins before, with Sunstreaker he knows how belligerent an annoyed cybertronian could be.

Thomas’s unimpressed voice stopped Optimus from making a minor mistake in mild enemy making.  “There's dirt on your boots. I don't want to return her all dirtied up.” Her, while Optimus still didn’t fully understand human gender customs he had become used to being referred to with masculine pronouns, It didn’t really make much of a difference to him besides straying from the usual. The way Thomas said ‘her’ was with an underlying fondness to it. He must say it a lot in a way that speaks of love without outright saying it. “I wouldn’t want to make a bad impression on anyone even if I wont see them again, and bringing back a truck with muddy footprints on the grill isn’t all that great of a thing to do now is it?” 

senior director Hendrickson sheepishly removed his shoe from Oprimus’s grill. Thoroughly chastised the man begrudgingly mumbled an apology only partially directed towards the one he had his gross shoe on.

Optimus would have liked to thank Thomas alas he was stuck playing an unliving truck. 

“Well Dolly, it is time to head back from whence we came.” Thomas patted his side as one would pat the shoulder of a friend. Optimus elected to not consider that he might have been patted like a dog. “Anything else I need to know about before I go?” He asked.

senior director Hendrickson shook his head and made his blessed exit. 

~~~

 Back on the road Thomas would put in his two cents that this drive back felt different. How so he didn’t quite know yet but he would figure it out before the end of this circuit. 

The radio was significantly less interesting now only playing obnoxious new age country that was teetering on the edge of becoming pop. it wasn’t the worst but now it was grating even after such a short time. The radio knob seemed a bit finicky when Thomas tried to turn it. It didn’t really turn like it should and it turned back almost immediately and hadn’t even changed the station at all. 

He took a moment to glare at the knob just to visually show his disappointment to the inanimate object before trying again to change the station. It changed to static and nice and smoothly as if it had been working the whole time, changed to some slow orchestral music.

It wasn’t the kind of music he would normally listen to but it was alright enough.

It certainly wasn’t, however, the kind of music that went with almost hitting a deer in a semi truck.

Which was what happened. 

A lone deer barreled into the road in the direct path of Dolly. Thomas was not going to be able to stop before he hit this deer. It was going to become a wet red smear on Dolly’s grill making much more of a mess than senior director Hendrickson’s shoe. Thomas in the short two seconds that he had to process and act to the deer had very few choices and no time to make said choices. 

The truck swerved. Thomas had not moved the steering wheel and the truck swerved, there was a loud clicking, metal on metal slid together moving apart and back together and a large hand extended from the passenger side pushing the ground to prevent the cab from tipping.

The deer continued running across the road disappearing into the woods on the other side. Dolly straightened out steadily, speeding back up to the speed limit.

“Oops.” the voice hadn’t been loud yet Thomas had heard it as if it had blared over the radio. The noncorporeal voice was not nearly as much a shock as the truck moving on its own.

Thomas no longer had his foot on the gas pedal. Dolly continued driving steadily down the road, thankfully there weren’t many others on the road at this time. 

Thomas was tense and unmoving. “This isn’t some bluetooth remote control shit is it?” it wasn’t really a question. Thomas wasn’t an expert on technology, he didn’t know the ins and outs of the internet or how coding worked, his daughter had to help him set up Sherry’s smart tv and despite having been there for the entirety of the set up he still didn’t fully understand how to use it. This he knew was not that kind of thing, this wasn’t something a human could make into a truck. What Dolly actually was he didn’t know, man made it surely wasn’t. “What are you?”

~~~

 What if he said nothing, what if he just dumped Thomas off on the side of the road and let senior director Hendrickson deal with the entire situation. It was an option. He could do that and just make a comm to headquarters letting the human department know where he had left the poor old man they had involved in this mess. 

Optimus wasn’t going to do that, it was a useless train of thought because Optimus was never one to let others deal with difficult situations if he was involved or could involve himself.

“My name is Optimus Prime. I am an autonomous robot from the planet Cybertron. I mean you no harm.” he had been told before that his usual introduction came on a little strong, nonetheless it was the quickest way to establish who and what he was.

“What the hell is an autonomous robot and why are you a truck?!” His “driver” was not understanding. Perhaps because Optimus was in his alt mode, the other humans had seen him in his bipedal form before he had explained what he was. That may have played a part in their understanding during the distress that is finding out about extraterrestrial beings that have taken harbor on their planet. 

“My name is Optimus Prime and I am an Autobot soldier who has taken refuge on your planet.” Thomas was making him nervous. He was slowly folding his arms and his face was turning from shock to a more stern anger. 

 A similarity between cybertron and earth is that on both planets the government really does ruin everything.

“I don't understand what you are,” Rude, what was there not to understand. “but you can move on your own so why am I here?” a reasonable question, even Optimus didn’t understand the humans insistence that he needed someone in his passenger seat. What was the point? He had been driving without one for years and never had any problems but then the government got involved and he was no longer “allowed” to drive on populated roads without a real human driver.

“I must apologize for startling you but the agency that I am harbored by insisted that I require a human driver.”

“Why didn’t they send someone who already knew about you?”

“They were unable to get somebody with a CDL license fast enough.” It was true. Apparently most of the agents with the licence were on either vacation or already away on assignment. Optimus had assumed incorrectly that they would leave him be for once but fate wasn’t that kind. 

Thomas started to relax. He sat back in Optimus's seat and looked around as if he was looking for oddities in the cab. “An alien robot. Huh.” he scoffed.”My last day working and I got the revelation that aliens exist. My daughter would love this.”

“I have found that many of our young human friends do find delight in the discovery of other living beings beyond their galaxy.” 

“Beyond our galaxy. Huh. you’re far from home aren't you?”

“Very. we are not quite sure where our planet resides now, it is dead and no longer in the orbit it once was.” Optimus had wondered before if humans could feel cybertronian fields or if they were just very perceptive. Cybertronians would act sad to show empathy but they didn’t truly feel the sadness they portrayed. Humans did, they would feel the emotion and confide in eachother with sharing experiences of the same or similar to the situation. The melancholy on Thomas’s face showed an understanding of some kind. He could tell that Thomas wanted to ask more about this, every human did they wanted to know about another planet and how one died.

“No, cybertronians have taken an array of different alt modes from land vehicles to air crafts as well as a few boats. We are a diverse transforming species. After arriving on your planet we took the form of non sentient vehicles to blend in and hide from our main enemies as well as any others who may want to cause us harm. Although we have made a many friends among your species, we have seen the cruelty of which humanity is capable.” 

“I take it by ‘we’ you mean there are more of you, are you all trucks?” It was said in good casual humor. A segue into a conversation less heavy was appreciated.

Thomas had many questions, many of which Optimus got to expound upon more than usual when it came to the introduction of other planetary life. 

It was calming, the frustration of the day melted away in the explanations of histories of his beloved planet and mechanical living technicalities. Even the traffic that had built was of no remark on Optimus’s now created good mood. 

Until.

“Ah, our drive is almost over.” It was a pity, Optimus was so enjoying the calm. Pulling into the driveway he reminded Thomas to put his hands back on his steering wheel. He’d prefer not to have to fill out the NDA paperwork. What would it hurt if one soon to be retired older man knew of his existence and he was already going to be in trouble about turning his comm off. Explaining the entirety of the situation to Thomas only made him laugh for a reason unknown to Optimus. 

Maybe a little louder than necessary. “I do believe me and Dolly had a mighty fine time.” He forgot about the nickname. And of course there was Ironhide slowly creeping his sorry aft into Optimus’s line of vision. Oh what's that? Ratchet just behind him why not. “Well Dolly! This is where we must part ways. It was a pleasure.” The bastard just patted him. Dog or friend he really wasn’t sure. 

Optimus should have just suffered through the paperwork.

 Maybe they would meet again one day, for now Thomas just wanted to get home to the most beautiful woman in the world who would be dancing around the kitchen to Dolly.

~~~